#I write that late sorry if there's faults I will re check tomorrow

[fantomette22]

Ok every time I start to write your name, I almost type “Fanta” which I find hilarious. It’d be a cute nickname!

(Cherry best flavor)

ANYWAY. Back on track. I am curious if you have any head-canons for Annalise and her role to play in the story? What is her character like to you? I am very curious 😈

Never thought some would compared my nickname as a soda xD (a YouTuber I used to follow is named like that too)

But anyway, Annalise ! I don't have too much too (because you know my brain is way much concentrated on always the same stuff but here's the few ideas/headcanons I got :)

I already talk about it, but for me this, is a younger Annalise.

So what she's like hm ? (I'm not sure XD) I mean if we look at the source materials she can be a bit mean if you don't do what she wants x) she sure have a LOT of pride. It's understandable she's the queen ✨ after all. But she's one of the few npc who don't want to hurt us too (that's kind of an accomplishment in Bloodborne & soulsborne games) & if we behave accordingly she can be quite sympathetic towards us.

But she's definitely not innocent and probably have bloods on her hands (less than a lot of people but still) I feel she might have order really dark things to get blood dregs and have the church against her But still... she lost so much too... I really feel bad for her... And I think she's kinda in denial... like how can you not go completely crazy after what happened ?!

But perhaps in her youth it was more different. Still with a big ego but perhaps quite caring too, who wants the best for Cainhurst, her family and all. Pretty sure she was quite good in politics, reasoned and have a really good prestance. And you know all the things a XIX century princess was supposed to do/know I guess. I mean ok everything she wears is a bit outdated. But like everyone seems to wear 1700s clothes in this damn castle. Oh and pretty sure she had good relationship with Byrgen, the church, Laurence, the hunters too maybe help them with their own expeditions too ! Maybe Logarius too. Before everything went down at least...

---

I think she used to have a good relationship with Maria ? Even if they didn't agree all the times she understood that Maria couldn't just be locked in Cainhurst and that another way of life fit her better. And Even if she was originally supposed to become one of her personal bodyguards/royal guards ("a shadow" of the queen like I call them hehe). Also, she always have an excuse and wise words for Maria rebellious teenage years x) And yeah they're cousins or smt similar in my main interprets and basically grow up together even if Annalise is a few years older.

I need to mention my oc Vledemyr too (still not sure of the orthograph help) basically Maria's cousin? almost the same age as Anna/bit older who became her bodyguard, then the chief of the royal guards later. Her closet friends and he's always been quite overprotective of the 2. Like an older brother to Maria and really want the best for /protect Annalise. He's really dedicated. (He's the mvp too).

Her mother died when she was young (but like not too young? between childhood/pre teens ?? yeah lot of people dies...) so not always easy. She likes her father too but you know he kinda let things just pass and happened too...and being really active.

Need to talk a bit about her husband too, but not too much it's not the subject (I mean... should i finally share his name and what he did to be king?! I don't remember if I already share... (I love this smart idiot so much, she do too). Yeah she actually really care about him. She knows he wants even more to restore Cainhurst power (for the honor of cainhurst blabla), he went to the chalices to find lot of things (statues, the ring...) and is doing a lot for her that she acknowledge. And to finishes with the relationships. I need to mention of course the bloody crow of Cainhurst ! I hesitated for a while but it's not Vledemyr...BUT there's a link somewhere.

But first, when she became "immortal" ( like the great one I guess? you live really long, don't really decomposed and your soul can't die but your body can die/be destroyed??) so yeah cool, as such she wasn't really stressed out to have an heir at the beginning. (And she got relatives that could take after her just in case but there's one relatives she know wouldn't want that to happened at all...) but still I feel she really wanted to eventually have one, and in their own way ascend like the pthumerians wanted to do. + have a family kinda. I guess the child of the immortal queen would be quite powerful and such an event don't you think ?

But... It didn't work... I mean she either have huge difficulties to fall pregnant / or don't manage to have a pregnancy going to term... either because of natural physiology or maybe the forbidden blood itself... king fell awful about it... she blames herself, he blames himself... that's why I think it took a few decades to have the child of blood with all blood dregs and all ! (sure took lot of times and researches) (ultimately it didn't work too but it could have if well you know... 😔) ((yeah love drama and sad stuff T_T that's maybe a bit dark too I'm really sorry...)

So in the meantime to compensated, she passed a lot of time with well... baby Crow ! (that I call Voron if I remember. I let you guess what it means. And literally everyone was crazy with him when he was a baby. Some much hc about him now thanks to you Crow!!!) Who's actually the son of a close relative (no telling yet hehe). She even made him some kind of heir of Cainhurst until she get could got hers, in case smt. happened. (Crow is a prince and rightful heir to Cainhurst hello ?! wouldn't that be cool?!)

---

And when you ask me about her role ? Like in the stories in my head XD ? Well it's not a really big role at the beginning . Until her father (the former king) died and she became queen. Cainhurst was becoming really dusty she wanted to make things moves, make Cainhurst strong again, and the church/byrgenwerth? needed help with the chalices + researches and blood were a good deal. And then they found the forbidden blood... but didn't wanted to gives to much info to Cainhurst to soon... even if that was their rightful inheritance ! So you know one of the scholar leaks some info to the Queen... then stole it and bring it back kof kof 👀 (not telling too much bc it's not the subject but this guy I swear I have a few ideas XD guess what the guy become after lol)

Then things don't move too much but slowly behind the scenes. Cainhurst get in too much with their lost Pthumerians irritate, goes into chalices dungeons, bring back some stuff... but then at some points their views clash with the healing church + maybe begin to kills hunters for blood dregs. At the beginning it's just mad people but maybe at some points it's not anymore so... and then you know they try to have the child of blood but the executioners show up...

Hope it answers you're question ! If you want smt for specific about some subject in particular let me know ! :)

[deandoesthingstome]

Hall Pass - Chapter 1

Paring: Henry Cavill x Reader (RPF)

Series Summary: You run into Henry Cavill at the start of a two-week house-sitting vacation. You had some previous plans. Some were ruined by your now ex-boyfriend. Some were made better. Guess by whom?

Series Warnings: I’ll be honest, this whole thing is just self-indulgent smutty fluff. Here’s what I offer: meeting, making out, and having sex with Henry Cavill (rpf). I’m probably NOT going to be adding chapter warnings unless I get a bug to re-write and something worms it’s way into the story that I wasn’t expecting.

A/N: I started this story shortly after the fiasco of The Witcher and Superman announcements. I thought about how great it would be to try and cheer him up a little. For the purposes of this story, he is single. No hate to anyone in his life right now, in whatever way you imagine that to be. I also understand if you do not read rpf. Feel free to scroll on by. I don’t need to hear about it.

This was going to be a looooong one-shot, but solicited feedback prompted me to break it up for you. 

Playlist: I will add to Spotify for each chapter.

Word Count: 3.1K 

"You've got to be fu..."

You barely had time to register the deep intonation of the same words you yourself were spouting when you glanced up from your phone screen just before walking smack dab into a 6'1" brick wall.

"...cking kidding me."

Your phone hit the ground with a clatter, though you knew it could sustain the impact. The best thing your as-of-this-minute ex had ever done was insist on the military grade phone case for your clumsy ass.

"I'm so sorry. Are you quite alright?"

"Oh, I absolutely should be the one apologizing," you responded, not even glancing up to check out the person from whom the sensual accent slipped as you knelt to retrieve your device. Had you done so, you would have noticed the shape blocking your way moving in the same general direction and probably wouldn't have bumped your head into his. Possibly.

"Oof! Oh dear..."

"My god, I am so clumsy! Please forgi..." you lost the rest of that apology as you raised your head and found yourself staring directly into the clearest blue eyes you'd know anywhere, the spot of brown, a dead giveaway.

"Cat got your tongue now?" A dazzling smile peeked out from behind a short, salt and pepper beard as firm hands gripped your shoulders to steady you. "May I help you up?"

It was all you could do to nod and soon you were standing once again, phone in hand, staring up at a face you would never in a million years dream might be found outside a Warhammer store in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere. You blinked a couple times, then clasped a free hand against your burning cheek.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry. I wasn't looking at all where I was going. Let me just get out of your way and let you get on with your day."

If the slight furrow in his brow didn't cause your mouth to salivate, the tiny lip pucker sure did.

"Well that's just it, isn't it? The reason I was in your way in the first place..."

"Oh, this isn't your fault..." you tried to interrupt.

"...is because this door appears to be locked and there's a hastily hand-written sign stating 'Emergency. Back tomorrow at 10.'"

You glanced to the side to confirm the statement as well as peel your eyes off the man in front of you, for fear he was seeing all the thoughts inside your head. Who were you kidding? He'd clearly already seen them, the way he returned a shy grin as he finished his explanation.

"Oh that sucks. Wonder what happened to Josh?"

"Who's Josh?” he asked, with a deadly raised eyebrow.

"The store owner. He's usually here everyday, late sometimes even. If he's not here, something is definitely out of sorts. Hope he's okay," you worried.

"Do you frequent the store often?"

"Me? Oh, no. I buy honey from Josh's wife and sometimes he keeps a few jars around the store for regulars. I was going to see if I could pick some up."

"So you're not a gamer then?" Was that a tinge of disappointment underneath the curiosity? No, why would there be?

"Um, noooo..." Dammit. You took a quick look around to see who might be with him, possibly about to wrangle him away, but there didn't seem to be anyone worried about an errant fan. "Look, I'm sorry, but aren't you...?"

"Aren't I...?" A cheekier version of his shy grin appeared and you were absolutely done for.

"Oh my god. Please, forgive me. I should get out of your hair."

"It's Henry," he offered a large hand in your direction.

"Henry Cavill," you whispered back, accepting the shake.

"That's so odd," he grinned, hand still clasped in yours as you continued to let him slowly raise and lower your arm, completely amazed it was even happening..

"Hmm? What's odd?"

"We appear to have the same name."

You laughed and offered your real name before ending the shake.

"Lovely to make your acquaintance," he smiled. "Were you that upset about missing out on the honey?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You appeared quite upset just now. It must be really good honey."

"Oh my god, it's the best," you gushed, excited to talk up your friend's business. "She makes a clover variety as well as orange blossom and both are phenomenal. Oh, but no, that's not, no, I hadn't seen the sign at all."

"Well something seemed rather upsetting."

"Oh, my, um boyf.., um," you stuttered, unclear why you were about to unload your personal shit on a Hollywood A-List celebrity.

"It's alright. I didn't mean to pry."

"Well, what are you doing all the way out here anyway? Surely, there's another location closer to the city. I mean, you were here for the convention, right?"

"Yes, well. You're not the only clumsy one. I blame these fat fingers," he waved a hand in front of your face and it was all you could do not to drool. "I ordered a special model online, thinking I could work on it during a brief hiatus, and thought I'd arranged to have it shipped to a store near my rental, but apparently I don't know the geography around here very well, and well, I guess I didn't realize there was more than one location in this area. By the time I noticed I tapped the wrong store on my phone, it was too late to change the order and I figured a drive might be nice."

"Well that's, um, that's really unfortunate. Are you staying in the city?" You checked your watch. "Oof, you're about to hit rush hour traffic. What a nightmare to have to go back in and then do the trip again tomorrow morning."

"Rush hour into the city this time of day?"

"It's rush hour in every direction back that way this time of day. Plus two lane roads most of the way. Dreadful. And you didn’t even get what you came for. Sorry!"

"Well, where are you headed this time of day?" Why was he chatting with you like an old friend? Surely, he had better things to get to.

"Oh, well, we're," nope, not 'we' anymore. "Um, I'm house sitting at another friend's farm for a few weeks. A nice little staycation while I celebrate my birthday and anniver...um, birthday."

"Oh, it's your birthday?"

"Week after next."

"Well happy early birthday."

"Thanks!" You couldn't possibly smile any wider and your cheeks were about to start hurting. Definitely not the feelings you thought you would be experiencing as you read the text messages from your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, you reminded yourself.

"Alright, well, I guess I should probably hit the road and get the rush hour over with."

You stared a little too long, wheels turning in your head. No. This is dumb. Don't open your mouth.

"Do you have some place you have to be tonight?" Way to go.

"Sorry?"

"Just, um. Okay, this is so awkward and I swear it's not a prank or publicity stunt or anything and I'm not a stalker..."

"Though you are beginning to worry me," he chuckled, with a conspiratorial nod of his head.

"If no one's waiting on you, you could stay the night at the farm with me. There's plenty of room. And that way you don't have to make the trip twice." The words were out of your mouth before you could even consider you might want to clear it with your friend. But who wouldn't want Henry Cavill staying under their roof?

"Oh. That's, um, that's certainly unexpected and not necessary at all."

"It's no trouble, really. I could just make a quick call..."

"Well, if you're sure..."

"One sec." You turned away to phone your friend and, leaving out the part about a text-message breakup, you secured permission to allow Henry Cavill into the house for the night. No arm twisting needed, just promises of a few photos. You were sure he'd oblige, after everything you'd seen and heard about his gentle and considerate way with paparazzi and fans.

"Okay, we're on. Only if you want, of course." Please say yes, please say yes.

"If you're sure?" That eyebrow would definitely be the death of you.

"Positive. Follow me?"

You headed back to your vehicle, loaded with packages of food and alcohol for the next two weeks. When you pulled out of your spot, you saw Henry in what must be a luxury SUV rental fall in behind you and you led him 30 minutes down the winding back country roads to Grouse Ridge Farm.

"I hope the gravel didn't do any damage," you called to him as you exited your very not luxury SUV "I tried to keep the speed low so I didn't kick back any rocks or dust your way."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Can I give you a hand with your belongings?" he nodded toward the cargo hold.

"That's so kind of you, yes. Thank you."

You each grabbed several items from the back and you noticed Henry look off toward the barn as you headed up the wide front stairs of the wraparound porch.

"Are there horses on this farm?"

"Why, yes there are. Do you...oh, of course you ride! Would you like to see them?" You set your bags down to fish the house key out of your pocket and opened the door.

"I'd love to. Shall we put these groceries away first? And are you feeding an army?" Henry's laugh was so pleasing, not derisive or mean at all. Just genuinely cheery. You led him to the kitchen where he began to hand you items from coolers to place in the fridge while you chatted.

"Not that it's a terrible trek to the store, that's actually the other reason I stopped in town on my way out, and there are a few variety stores nearby as well, but when I'm out here, I love to just ... be out here. So I try to plan for most meals with an occasional night out at a local restaurant or two."

"Surely you can't eat all this by yourself though?"

Here we go.

"No, you're right. I wasn't actually meant to be alone here for two weeks. Along with my birthday, tomorrow was supposed to be my one year anniversary with my boyfriend but he bailed." You could feel tears welling. "Like, it's been a little stressful lately, because he's been away for business for a few months and he's promised to get back to visit on weekends when he can but that hasn't worked out so well and this was going to be like a reset for us and then he texted..."

"He did not break up with you in a text message?"

You nodded slowly, embarrassed at how ridiculous the whole thing sounded, but also at the well of tears still building and threatening to break free.

"What a complete and utter twat. Pardon my French."

That particular curse never failed to make you giggle, and so with relief you let out a cautious laugh and wiped the tears away.

"He really is," you replied. You took a beat. The method of ending the relationship notwithstanding, even the few months before he was sent off to a new city to help build a brand for his company hadn't been the greatest. Petty squabbles, missed dinner dates, shifting priorities. You were so grateful you had held your ground and insisted on not moving in together right away. "You know what? Just nevermind it. I mean, if I'm not important enough to plan a few trips home over several months to continue nurturing our new-ish relationship let alone show up for an anniversary vacation, clearly he's not worth crying over."

"There you go! Absolutely right."

"Should we go meet the horses?"

"Love to." 

The bright smile on his face had you weak in the knees again but you somehow managed to lead Henry back outside to the barn, stepping inside the large doors carefully, so you didn't spook the animals.

"They don't spend all their time in here, do they?"

"Oh, no! It's just getting late and dark soon. My friends have a farm hand who comes by in the mornings and evenings to feed and water them, let them out on the property, muck the stalls, wrangle them back in. All the things I'm positively no good at. I can feed the goats," you laughed and nodded to the three animals in an enclosure with a small door leading out to a fenced in paddock.

"Well that's a relief. Do you know their names?"

"Yes! This is Telly," you walked toward a massive brown stallion with a gorgeous black mane. "And next to him is Butterscotch. Her coloring is my favorite. Over here we have Mikka and Sadie, the two Appaloosas. Sadie's pregnant. "

You watched the way Henry cooed and whispered to each horse in turn, taking the time to figure out the exact right spot to pat or rub or scratch at. Was he that meticulous in all his interactions?

“And what kind of dogs do the owners keep?” 

“How did you ...?” you trailed off as you realized he must have noticed the dog beds by the fireplace in the great-room off the kitchen, as well as the water bowls scattered throughout the house and barn. “They have two Great Pyrenees.”

“Oh, big floofers then. Excellent!” Did he just say floofers? Could this man get any more adorable? 

“Yes,” you laughed. “Um, Leo and Gabs.”

“And where are those two?”

“Oh, well my friends take them along on trips. I wish they’d leave them. I love their couch cuddles. Don’t care how many lint rollers I have to go through.”

“Ha, yes,” Henry laughed. “Lint rollers, a dog owner’s best friend.”

Oh shit.

“Henry? Is Kal with you on this trip? I mean, he’s not suffering alone in a strange hotel room right now is he?” You were close to mortified. Had you forced Henry to abandon Kal? 

“In the hotel room, yes. Alone? Decidedly not,” he chuckled. “I rang my assistant on the way out here to let her know she’d need to extend her baby-sitting for the night. Kal’s in good hands. Probably scamming for extra dinner as we speak.”

“Oh, good! Speaking of dinner, are you hungry?”

“I could eat, yes.”

“Good. I have something for that.” Henry cocked his head to the side with an eyebrow raise and you paused for a moment, shocked at how easily the double-entendre slipped out. “I just mean, well, you know, the army stores and ...”

Henry laughed and saved you from further embarrassment. “Yes, what’s on the menu tonight?”

“Okay, well I have sandwich fixings, a few soups, stuff for stew, plenty of pasta options, and oooh, I make a killer bolognese if I do say so myself,” you listed off as you headed back into the house.

“Oh, I don’t want you to go to any trouble. Sandwiches would be fine.”

“It’s literally no trouble. I prepped the sauce this week. Just need to reheat it and toast up some gnocchi. The hardest part for me would probably be opening the wine. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m terribly clumsy and all the bottles I brought are corked instead of screw tops. Jeremy bought them all before he left for work. Would you mind?”

You nodded to the stash of bottles on the counter and Henry set about picking out a pairing for the dinner. “Did he imagine you’d never want a glass without him?”

“Like you said, total twat. Oh, and I don’t mean to keep putting you to work, but it’s going to start getting cold in here now that the sun’s down. I can turn up the thermostat a bit, but how are you at building fires?”

“I’m excellent at it.” He was already turning toward the great room after pouring two glasses of red. You wondered about the title of this Hallmark Holiday movie you suddenly found yourself in.

By the time the fire was roaring, you had plates served up at the long farmhouse table. Henry sat and the two of you chatted throughout the meal, beginning with his amazement at how you were not lying about the sauce.

“Right??? I simply won’t be modest about it. It’s like the one good thing I can do.”

“Oh I highly doubt that. The skill it takes to coax this flavor? You must be able to translate that into other dishes?”

“Well, I try.” There, a return to modesty.

After dinner, Henry suggested drinks by the fire and you were happy to join him, settling into the overstuffed easy chair, lest he feel you were crowding him on the couch. But this way you could stare naturally into his mesmerizing eyes while he spoke a language you didn’t understand about a topic you could tell meant the world to him. You’d asked about the model he was to pick up tomorrow and that opened a floodgate, as if he’d been dying to chat about his hobby for ages.

“I’m sorry, I must be boring you.”

“Not at all! I mean, I don’t know anything about the game, but I love hearing people talk about their passions. It’s enlightening, getting to know what makes people tick, what makes them happy.” You tried to stifle a yawn. “That’s not a commentary!” you laughed.

“Yeah it’s definitely getting late,” Henry glanced at his watch for the first time the entire evening. Other than a quick glance at his phone at dinner to answer a text from his assistant, his attention had been entirely on you and the evening.

“Okay, well let me get you settled in a guest room.”

There were three rooms in the house with private baths, while the rest shared various full and half baths up and downstairs. You felt weird putting him in your friend’s room or the room with two twins, so the king guest room that you normally stayed in would be his for the night. Don’t think about wrapping yourself in the sheets later.

“This is you. Bathroom is through the far door and there are usually extra toiletries stocked under the sink so help yourself. Oh, gosh! Do you want me to grab a pair of pj bottoms or something for you?”

Henry pursed his lips and with a mischievous look stated, “Hmmm, not necessary.”

It took you a moment to catch his drift and your eyes widened as you turned with a squeak of surprise. “Oh! Right, okay.. Well, I’m just down the hall if you need anything. Goodnight, Henry.”

“Goodnight Henry,” he winked when you turned back confused, then waited as you entered your room laughing. 

You closed the door and took a deep breath then exhaled as you began imagining him naked in your bed. You grabbed your toiletry bag and prepared for bed trying not to think anymore about it. Sleep was going to come hard tonight.

Chapter 2

Tags: Please let me know if you want on or off or moved.

Anything: @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @aireraume @kebabgirl67 @marantha @sweetdreamsofgelato @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @dedicated-to-mr-cavill @alexakeyloveloki @feelmyroarrrr @raccoon-eyed-rebel (I put you here based on all our fun times together, but please let me know if this was too presumptuous) @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @kingliam2019

Hall Pass: (askers and likers, though if you liked the teaser post and you aren’t here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you)  @anastasia00moon (can’t tag you sorry!) @crymeariversworld @tess-lecter-blog @codykosuckmytoe @casadutti @fefa-la-printcessa @kaylamontaniz @kemillyfreitas​ @urmom3sposts​ @alicasalime​ @florxdexcerezo​ @lothbrokcore​ @straightforwardly @fuzzyugly-blog @livesinfantasyland @thereisa8ella @coldmooninthedark @12dilucswife @ms-angiealsina

[luvspence]

roommates (III)

i’m literally obsssed

I, II , IV<- additional roommate fluff

prompts i used: 1 2 3

spencer reid x reader

synopsis: and they were roommates

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

————

sunday paper

to you the paper was just something to be eventually recycled

but to spencer it was something so special, so special he’d wake up at 8 am on a sunday just to grab it. usually waking you up in the process

“spencer why”

he was perched on his chair, coffee in hand getting settled in to read

“why what?”

“why must you get up at 8 am, that stupid news paper would still be there at noon”

“i don’t wanna risk the neighbors stealing it, they’re sketchy y/n”

“believe me spencer no one wants to steal your news paper, and anyways wake up when you want but you don’t need to be so loud”

“hey it’s not my fault i tripped over your 100 cords plugged into the wall”

you rolled your eyes are we about to go back to bed when spencer called out

“so you don’t want the cross word y/n?”

you immediately turned around, you had a love for crosswords

you stood in front of him “give it”

he tuts “i thought you said my news paper was stupid”

“it is, give me the cross word”

“you have to respect the newspaper to get the cross word”

you scoffed

“fine i respect the news paper”

“and?”

“and??????”

“what else”

“it’s very cool and it’s totally not a waste of paper and ink when you could just look at news online”

he nods and hands you the crossword, that you work on fervently

——

white board

you and spencer had a little white board that was on your fridge, you’d write little notes to each other as you came and went

“we’re out of coffee creamer

- reid”

“okay i’ll get more creamer, why do you sign your name? there’s only two people living here

-l/n”

“the new creamers great, thanks. and i don’t know what if someone broke in and decided to leave a note. it could’ve been them

-reid”

“fair enough, have a good day spence!

-l/n”

—

“y/n, question that’s too awkward to ask any other way: do you miss me when i leave on cases?

-reid”

“yeah of course i do, i miss having someone to talk to constantly, of course i miss my best friend when he’s gone spencer was kind of question is that. but it’s not too bad because we work together and we’re always on the phone. anyway yeah i do

-l/n”

“oh okay, that’s good to hear because i miss you too, i never wake up in the middle of the night to find morgan baking in our hotel. and i miss hearing the singing from the bathroom. anyways,,, we’re leaving on a case tonight (as your most likely aware). don’t forget to feed the fish for me!

-reid”

-

“have a good day y/n!

-reid

p.s. attached is a drawing of a lady bug!“

“i quite enjoy your lady bug spencer, have a good day as well!

-l/n

p.s. i tried to draw a bee”

“y/n i love you but that’s the most a.) terrible drawing of a bee and b.) most scientifically un accurate bee i’ve ever seen, why is its stinger so big?

-reid”

“dont stinger shame my bee, he likes himself how he is

-l/n”

——-

blackouts

you and spencer were both in the home office, you were sitting through emails and spencer was reading a book under the lamp, when suddenly the light went out

“my computer! i was just- my emails!!”

“ugh now i can’t see my book”

“dont you have that book memorized at this point spencer”

“yes, but i like to re read”

you laughed and went under the sink to pull out the flash lights

you stood up, immediately tripping over spencer

“jesus christ spencer dont sneak up on me like that”

he caught you mid fall

“apologies, do the flash lights work?”

you clicked them on and off, gave the back of them a good smack as well

“shoot no, i think i have some candles”

you wandered off into your room, spencer hearing another loud thump and rushing to see if you were okay

“y/n?? are you okay?”

“yes i’m fine, this wall came out of no where”

you found the few candles and the lighter, giving a couple to spencer to spread around the apartment

you were criminally bored, your whole life revolves around your computers, which were useless without an electricity

spencer was reading his book next to one of the candles, he looked like an 18th century philosopher, crouched down with a tiny worn out book in his hands, next to the light of a candle

you were hanging backwards off the couch in boredom

“spencerrrrrrrr”

“yes?”

“i’m bored. the super said the power won’t be back for a whole TWO hours”

spencer looked around, your apartment wasn’t nearly illuminated enough to play any sort of game

“do you want me to read to you?”

he flashed you the book, “the prince” by niccolo machiavelli

“it is much more secure to be feared than loved”

“ahh you’re an expert already”

he crawled on the couch next to you, moving another candle near him to start and reading the pages to you

you listening peacefully as spencer read the pages to you, his voice like music to your ears

———

spiders

spencer was finishing up his nightly routine, about to enter his bed when he heard a scream from tour room

he immediately ran in “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

you trembled as you pointed to the spider on your wall, you then took refuge under spencer’s arm

“y/n seriously? it’s not going to hurt you”

“i don’t careeeeeee!! spence kill it please please please”

he looked at you, you were glossy eyed and had a terrible fear of spiders. he didn’t wanna kill it, but he’d do anything for you, including insect murder

he grabbed a tissue and crushed the spider, disposing of it in the trash

“my hero!” you flung your arms around him, he stroked the back of your head

“y/n if the food chain in this apartment is thrown off now i’m blaming you”

———

keys

“hey y/n you ready to go home?”

you wearing in the cave with penelope

“hey tonight i’m gonna stay a little late, penelope can give me a ride home”

“oh okay, see you at home then”

you guys waved to each other

penelope started to tease

“you’re so in love”

“am not!”

penelope put her best spencer impression on

“are you ready to go home the dearest y/n? ready to come with me? your genuis future boyfriend?”

you threw a piece of paper at her

“shut up! oh my gosh it’s not even like that”

a couple minutes later you get a call from spencer

“hey spence what’s up?”

“okay so, i um. am locked out? i t-think my key fell out on the jet?? i’ll check tomorrow but for now can you please come and open the door for me”

you laughed and told penelope

“yes of course i can my love, sit tight i’ll see you soon”

“okay thank you y/n, bye”

you put down your phone and laughed to yourself a bit

penelope dropped you off at your yet apartment, you found spenxer sitting on the steps on the front door

“spencer?”

“oh hi y/n sorry for making you come out”

“hey no worries, i live here too”

you opened the door and spencer followed you in

“thank you y/n, you’re the very best roommate”

you nodded but in your head you said

“if you like me as a roommate you should see me as a girlfriend”

[sdmnluvs]

Home Town Glory- Minishaw

Disclaimer!! I know that Simon is in a very happy relationship with Talia! It’s just for entertainment purposes and to let me practice my writing. This is also posted on my Wattpad!

28 years old and he misses home more than ever. That's why he's walking the streets of Hemel Hempstead at quarter past 11 on a Friday night.

It wasn't his plan when he woke up this morning. But he had fucked up, told Harry he loved him and when Harry just stared at him he fled the flat in record worthy time.

Got back to his own flat with ignoring Harry's missed calls and texts. Grabs a bag and packs a weekends worth of clothes as Jj enters his room confused.

"You alright there Simon?" He asks dumbly as the taller runs to the bathroom to grab his toothbrush. "I-I fucked up, going home for the weekend!" He says, pulls out his phone to call an Uber. He doesn't care if it's expensive, would spend every dime in his bank account if it meant he didn't have to look at the pity his friends would throw him when they found out what he had done.

"Did something happen with Harry? Did you guys break up?" Jj asks shock evident in his voice. Everyone was sure that they were a stable couple. Maybe looks really can be deceiving.

"I need to clear my head for a while Jide, if Harry comes please don't tell him where I am," Simon says before grabbing his bag and leaving Jj standing in bedroom. Heard the door close and the younger doesn't know what to do.

But he listens to what Simon said. When Harry shows up half an hour later with tears in his eyes it takes all of his might to say that he doesn't know where Simon is. Says me might have gone to visit Josh.

It's evil really, Jj decides when Harry leaves his sitting room with a look of determination on his face. He's sending the poor boy on a wild goose chase for what? Jj doesn't even know what happened between the both of them. For all he knows Simon could be in the wrong here. He had said that he fucked up.....

But by the time he comes to the decision that he should ask Harry what happened the brunet is long gone and he curses to himself. Feels even worse when he realizes that Josh will probably send Harry to Tobi's to check, then Tobi will send him to Randys and Randy will send him back to the flat.

Simon calls him 2 hours later. He's sat in his old room and trying not to cry. "So what happened?" Jj never did have the best patience, Simons surprised he's waited this long.

"I overreacted I guess," the blond sighs. "I told Harry that I loved him. He just stared at me for a straight minute. I couldn't deal with it Jide so I ran. I ran as fast and as far away as I could. Sure I only made it about 27 miles away from home but I couldn't deal with the pity when I told you. I just thought, it's been a year and I've loved him for long. But I guess that it was too soon".

Simon explains it all and Jj listens. Doesn't interrupt just let's Simon talk and it feels nice. Once he's finished talking Jj comforts him. Tells him to go for a walk even though it's 8pm and the sun is going to set soon. Also tells him that Harry definitely loves him back. "He was probably shocked Simon. Give him time. Just go relax, hey go to that park you used to drag me to every Sunday!".

And Simon follows his advice. Tells his mum that he's going to pub to see a few of his old friends. He doesn't need her worrying about him anymore than she already is. So he heads out. Goes for a walk around the town.

Meanwhile Jj sighs when he hears the door knock again. Knows that it's either Josh about to give out to him for sending Harry round his when he knew exactly where the blond was because Tobi had already called him and gave out to him. Or it's Harry back, probably just as deflated as he was this morning.

Opens the door and he's not shocked to see Harry stood in front of him. Bit more shocked that Ethan is stood with him. Arm wrapped around the youngers shoulder. He's smiling sadly and Harry's a puddle of tears.

Jj opens the door wider and rushes both of them in. They all sit down on the couch and Harry won't let go of Ethan's arm as he re-tells the story of his day.

"I-I was shocked Jide, I didn't expect him to say it. I called him back, must've called his name 20 times but it was too late. He was gone. Cal wouldn't let me go until I had told him that happened. I never got the chance to tell him that I love him too. I got to yours as fast as I could. Then you told me to go to Josh and he wasn't there.

Freya convinced me to have a cup of tea and some breakfast. I didn't want to tell them why I was there but you know what Freya's like. They gave me some comforting words and then Josh said that he might be at Tobi's. So I went to Tobi's but he wasn't there. I stayed for a while, talked to Tobi to calm down.

Our last resort was that he was at Randys. But he wasn't. Randy made me eat again, told me that he'd probably of gone back to the flat by now. But that I should maybe leave him until tomorrow. I agreed and was heading home but I couldn't face it. The thought that I'd lost Simon forever. Like our relationship had started and ended in my flat.

Ethan was the closest person to me at that stage. Told the taxi driver to turn around...," he trails off tears falling faster and harder. Ethan throws a comforting arm around him and finishes the story for the younger.

"I tried to calm him down but it was no use. That's when I realized that maybe big man knowledge, strength, Integrity would know where Simon is by now!" Ethan says his eyes cold and narrow when he says Integrity and Jj knows that he's in for it.

He loves Simon he really does, he's his best friend but Harry's sat in their living room crying an actual river and Ethan's glaring at him as much as to say "Tell him the truth or else".

"He's away home for the weekend. I'm sorry Harry, I promised him I wouldn't tell you," but Harry isn't even mad. He lets go of Ethan for the first time since he entered the flat and hugs Jj as tightly as he can.

"Jide please, we have to go. I'll do anything, I'll, I'll-"

Jj stops him, the least he can do is drive the three of them to Hertfordshire as an apology to Harry. Even though it's 10pm and he has a meeting at 8am tomorrow. The things he does for his friends.

So here Simon is. Quarter past 11 on a Friday night. He had actually popped into the local pub. Met a few of his old friends and downed 2 pints. Laughed and laughed and laughed as they re-told childhood stories. Listens as they catch him up on everything he had missed the past 8 years not living at home.

Sure his mum had kept him up to date and he had come home every so often but he'd never found the time to catch up with old friends. Looks around the room and wonders if he had never left what would life be like?

Would he be sat here with the same group of friends every Friday night making memories to last a lifetime. Would Jide be KSI or would he be sat here right next to him. Would he of met a nice girl from the town and be married already. Would he of made memories?

Thinks and remembers that he's made memories to last a lifetime. He's met people, he's met his friends, he's met Harry. The love of his life and suddenly it's all too much. The walls of the pub are closing in on him. He thanks them for the laughs and memories but he's gotta go. Promises them that he'll come home again, with Jj this time and they'll make even more memories.

He looks back and smiles seeing them all doubled over in laughter over something one of them had said. He wants to say that he escaped but there was never really anything to escape. Everyone that stayed is happy. They're all content with their lives. And so is he. He took a different route that's all.

Left the pub and heads off in the direction of the park Jj had mentioned. He had wanted to leave it for last. Let's his mind wander as he wanders around the streets.

Passes by a group of teenagers shrieking in laughter, empty bottle of vodka in their hands and he has to smile. Because that used to be him, running through the same streets when he was younger. Drunk, young and free.

He's so engrossed that he almost walks into a woman. She asks if he's lost because she's never seen him around here. He shakes his head, tells her that he's not lost, just wandering around home. She leaves him be and he keeps going.

Arrives at the park and heads straight to the field. Lies down and watches the stars. Let's the day wash over him and he can't help but smile as he remembers the first time he ever went star gazing was with Harry.

Jj knocks on the door. Simons mum opens the door and she's so happy to see Jj. Welcomes him inside but Jj asks if Simons around. She can hear the desperation in his voice and tells him that he went down to the pub to met a few of the lads.

So the 3 of them leave. They enter and nobody bats and eyelid at them. Jj instantly spots the group of people that Simon should be with, it's just, he's nowhere to be seen. Swears under his breath as he approaches the table.

Taps one of the boys on the shoulder and he turns grinning. "When we told Simon to hurry back with you we didn't mean this soon!" The man laughs and stands up to hug Jj.

He laughs weakly "it's really nice to see you James, but do you have any idea where Simon is?". The man now known as James to Harry and Ethan shakes his head. Explains how he left 20 minutes ago, adds that he looked like he had been doing a lot of thinking. Jj thanks him and they leave,

"So we're back to square 1?" Ethan asks as Harry lets a sob rip from his mouth. "This is all my fault, I shouldn't of been such a prick today," he cries as Ethan hugs him.

"It's ok Bog, let's just head back to his, he'll be home-," Jj starts but then stops. He has a shit eating grin on his face. "I know where he is!".

They all pile into Jj's car once again and 5 minutes later they're pulling up to a park. "Simon used to drag me here every Sunday, I told him to visit here when I was talking to him earlier as a joke," Jj explains as they exit the car and head to the field.

And that's where they spot him. Lying in the grass eyes closed and mouth turned upwards in a smile. Harry walks closer as Ethan and Jj hang back.

"Si?" Harry asks shyly and the body shoots up. Looks around and all air leaves his body because Harry is inching closer to him with a nervous smile on his face. Simon can't take it, not whilst he's at home, in his safe place.

"Harry, please not-," but Harry cuts him off. "Simon please, just listen to me I beg. You don't understand what I've done to get here!". So Simon stays quiet.

"Si I was shocked when you told me that you loved me. Ever since I met you I was convinced that I'd never be enough for you. I was just a 17 year old kid with insecurities that would've drowned me when I first met you. But you, as cringy as it sounds you taught me how to love myself. I was finally in the shallow end when I moved in with Cal and Cal and I started drinking a lot, when the drugs started.

But you were there. Every single time I relapsed you where there. On bad nights that I was tempted you made me watch a shitty movie with you. And even though I hate movies I watched them with you. You supported me when I came out. And then you kissed me when we where in Vegas for Jides fight. A week later we had our first date in London and you weren't embarrassed of me. You held my hand as we walked home and you asked me to be your boyfriend and I said yes. Because I loved you. You kept me afloat, Simon I have loved you since I was 18, too young to know what love is as mum always said. But I loved you. And I still do.

And I'm sorry that I left you standing there waiting for an answer today. I just couldn't wrap my head around the fact that you loved me, you love me just as much as I love you! And I would've been able to tell you all of this this morning but Cal held me back and then Jide sent me on a goose chase like a whole twat.

So I'm sorry Si, I love you. A lot more than the moon and stars combined,". And Simons stood staring at him, tears falling down his face. Because holy fucking shit. Harry loved him as much as he loved Harry. Didn't even think as he tackled him into a hug. Kissed him deeply and had every unspoken word added to it.

And Harry seemed to just know because when they pulled away he hugged him tighter. They turn to their 2 cheering friends before Simon leans down to kiss him again.

Because he had Harry. Harry was his, the love of his life. "I even love you enough for the first time I tell you to be in Hertfordshire," Harry giggles and Simon grins at him. "Hometown glory I guess,". And then Simon kisses him again

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Capt. Syverson-Chapter Two: Therapeutic Procedure

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Shane and Sy share some moments during their treatment sessions…and a phone call that could set the tone for the next few weeks.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None, yet… ;)

Author’s Note: Sorry, I was so eager and excited to post the first chapter of this last night, I totally put some inaccurate info in my description notes. I will correct that in the original post and  try to do better henceforth! Hope you enjoy Sy and Shane totally flirting some more and getting more friendly in this chapter. Feedback is appreciated! Even constructive criticism! :D

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. 

Tags: @onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee

Let me know if you wish to be added to the list! I’m happy to do it!

Shane woke up that morning with knots in her stomach. She dropped every product she picked up in the shower, she was shaking so much. She accidentally ordered the wrong coffee on her way to work and was now drinking something much less caffeinated and far too sweet for her taste. The barista had informed her it was a grande caramel macchiato with an extra pump of vanilla and extra caramel drizzle…with only two shots of espresso…she couldn't begin to describe how wrong that drink was for her. But it was better than nothing, she told herself, not fully convincingly.

She had chosen her clothes with extra care, even though, with the dress code, her options were limited. And she had made sure to put on a bit of mascara and just a touch of perfume, even though they weren't strictly supposed to wear it…she didn't know why she was bothering.

Well, actually, she did know why. She had been checking her schedule extra diligently lately to make sure she didn't look like a hobo when Sy was coming in. He'd been coming for three weeks now, and after the initial bellyaching about Jordan not being as pretty as her…her heart!...and his feeling extra sore after his visits with him, they were on a roll and had a great chemistry together as far as their treatments went…she tried not to think about…beyond the world of therapy.

She thought back to their first session after she got back from her trip. And the conversation they had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I think the next time you can't see me, I'm just going to cancel." he had sulked as he wiggled his mass of muscle onto the mat.

"Sy, no. you need therapy. Don't be like that to Jordan. He's an excellent therapist."

"He ain't you though." he smirked, sending her heart racing with that smile that somehow managed to look both boyish and rakish under his full, dark beard. Fucking hell. He needed to stop.

"Well, we can't fault him for that, can we? Lay back, Mister." She demanded. Done with the niceties of the evaluation and onto the treatments where she was in charge. The boss.

"Yes, sir!" she laughed at his clear avoidance of calling her ma'am.

"So where'd you go last week? Vacation or stay-cation?" he asked, the term "stay-cation" sounding downright comical coming out of his country-boy mouth.

"I went to the beach. Gulf Shores."

"I thought you looked like you got some sun."

"Yeah," she pretended his noticing the detail of her awesome tan did not send her reeling. "My folks rented a condo right on the water for my siblings and I to come and stay with them. They're still there. It was tough to leave all that beauty." the beach, pretty much any beach, was her favorite place to be.

"I bet…" he looked at her, something dreamy in his eyes, but he looked away before she could process it. "I thought I had my fill of sand and sun when I was over in Iraq. But you make it sound…like paradise." he smiled softly up at her as she worked on his knee, trying to break apart some of the scar tissue from the injuries and surgeries he'd had…and focus on that, and not the warmth rising in her.

"That's the perfect way to describe any place on the Gulf of Mexico. I doubt it's anything like Iraq, since there's so much water around. It's my favorite vacation destination. Well, apart from London."

"Them British folks always seem so stuck up. Don't know if I'd get along with any of 'em."

"It felt like a second home for me. Everyone was very kind and polite, for the most part. At least it was no worse than it is here."

"Maybe it's just because you're so nice."

"Wait 'til about week eight or ten of your protocol. You won't think I'm nice then. You'll be cussing me out and ready to ring my neck."

"Promise?" he asked, a dark grin on his lips and in his eyes…she faltered for a moment, gulping.

"Cut it out, Syverson." she rolled her eyes, covering…without great effect the way he made her feel.

"Yes...ma'am." he smirked with satisfaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now, today, she'd be treating him again, fairly early in the day, and she had to prepare herself. She'd checked the policy, and although there wasn't anything strictly against dating a patient, it was clearly a conflict of interest, and would be frowned upon by her frigid tyrant of a boss. Best to let things remain platonic for now.

Her 9:30 was a no show, so she finished up some notes and was working on some continuing education credits when messenger popped up around 10:00.

Sergeant Sexypants is here. He's quite early and he knows it…*smirk emoji* he must like you, Shane!

Heather, come on, be respectful…he was discharged at the rank of Captain! *rofl emoji* and I think you might be right about him liking me…*nervous emoji*

Oooooooooh!!! You guys are gonna *couple kissing emoji* *eggplant emoji* *okay emoji* *explosion emoji* *baby emoji*

Omg…*three facepalm emojis* I am going to go ahead and start him early since my 9:30 was a NCNS.

Don't finish him too early. Make it last. *smirk emoji*

Jeez. She closed the chat and went to grab him from the waiting area.

"Hey Sy, you ready?"

"You bet, sunshine!" he flashed her a crooked smile. He was calling her sunshine now…ad that to the list of things she'd have to pretend didn't make her swoon.

"Great. Let's start on the bike. How's the knee feeling today?"

"Oh, it's…about the same. Stiff. Lil' sore."

"Well, it's a slow process, like I told you at your eval. You've got a lot going on in there."

"I know…just…it hasn't taken me four weeks to do anything in my life." he sulked. "So…thinking about this taking…twelve or more…" he grimaced as he sat down on the bike, and adjusted it for his longer than average legs, putting his feet in the pedal stirrups.

"You may not see it, Sy, because you're so close to it, but trust me, you're making progress. I can tell you're doing your exercises at home, and you're always willing to put in the work here. You have no idea how much that sets you apart from…some of these other people." she leaned in closer and spoke the last part more quietly to him. It was true. So many of her patients were either lazy or just in it to appease their MDs into writing them scripts for pain meds. That wasn't Sy.

"You really think so?" he gave her the side eye with his baby blues, crushing her with the color like the waves of the ocean she'd just returned from.

"In fact, I know so." she placed a reassuring hand on his broad and thick shoulder. She felt the tension between them hum, like electric current.

"Now, level one, and a steady pace. You're not trying to win any medals here. I'll take those crutches."

"When ya think I can 86 'em damn things?" he griped as he handed over the assistive devices.

"Well, you see Potter again tomorrow? I'll write an update today and send it to him. If he likes what he reads, or more likely pretends to read, regarding your progress, he may discharge them. Do you feel like you can be good to the knee and treat it nice without using crutches? I don't want you to regress and re-injure yourself. That's not gonna get you into your running shoes any sooner."

"I'll be nice. Real gentle." he winked at her…he wasn't just talking about the knee. And she knew it. But again, she pretended she didn't, ignoring once more those butterflies threatening to choke her they were multiplying so fast in her belly.

"Okay, I'll put that in my note. Patient compliant with instructions to be nice." she laughed.

They talked as they biked, Shane sat on the one next to him and pedaled along with him for something to do other than be idle. She thought it made him feel better as well. Like he wasn't doing it alone. They covered the subject of her siblings, an older brother in IT and a younger sister who was an MA, and his German Shepherd, Aika, which he was allowed to bring home from Iraq after they were both honorably discharged. Music, both of them completely in agreeance about the superiority of classic rock.

"I noticed you've worn a Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt a few times and meant to say something before now."

"Yeah, they're one of my favorites. But there are a few newer groups that I like a lot, too. Kings of Leon got me through some tough times, honestly."

"Oh, they're great! I love their sound. And their lyrics…poetry."

"No shit. Sorry." she shook her head and raised up her hands to indicate that he didn't need to apologize to her for swearing. She'd been known to make sailors blush when she was off the clock. "Only by the Night…that whole album is…it's just in my blood, ya know? Ya ever have an album do that?"

"I have. Whole artists catalogs, actually."

"Which artist?" he prodded.

"The Beatles. Pretty much every song. Like you said, it just, like, I dunno, it's almost deeper than the veins. It's in the marrow. My soul." she stared off out the windows ahead of them, thinking about her favorite band in the world and how magical it was to experience Sir Paul McCartney playing some of her favorites live…twice…and the timer on the bike went off, pulling her from her daydream.

She looked over at him, startled by both the noise, and the dreamy look in his eyes that was becoming all too familiar.

"Sorry." she stood, grabbing his crutches for him and handing them back to him from where she had leaned them as they rode.

"Hey, don't be sorry for…ahem…for loving what you love. We should all…hold on to the things that make us feel like that." she nodded.

"Thanks…I don't think a lot of people…understand the way I…my tendency to take things like music, movies, and shows…books…so deeply to my heart." they walked to the treatment room from the gym, taking their time, since they had it. A rare occurrence for Shane, always needing to capitalize on every spare minute. To make productivity a priority.

"I think…that…well, seeing a pretty grim side of the world like I have…seems like there's enough darkness and bullshit making everyone miserable. If we find something…or…someone…that brings us some happiness or even just makes that misery bearable…we oughta hang onto 'em real tight. Cherish it like gold." the silence in the small room was loud with that electrical hum of their tension again. He'd said all the right things, as he always seemed to, but under the absolute wrong circumstances. She just nodded.

"They teach you philosophy in Basic?" she giggled. He laughed back in response.

"Oh, no, Basic was way easier than…whatever goes on inside of us."

"Speaking of which," she segued deftly, "lay back, and let my try to get some range out of that knee before I take new measurements for this update I'm gonna write."

"Yes, ma'am!" he chuckled.

"You get some sick thrill out of calling me that, don't you?" she scowled playfully at him.

"Oh, you have no idea…ma'am." he winked at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Shane was wondering how Sy's appointment went as she ate her soup at lunch and caught up on her morning notes. She got a ping on messenger.

You have a gentleman caller…*eggplant emoji*  hehe, he's on line three.

Geez…thanks Heather.

No need to ask for a name. She knew Heather meant Sy.

She picked up the phone at her desk in the treatment room.

"Hey Sy! How'd the appointment go?"

"Hey, sunshine…eh…he said I'm doin' good, but he wants me to stay on crutches another two weeks." she could hear grave disappointment in his voice. She felt for him.

"Aww, I'm sorry Sy. I know you wanted off those. And I know they're a pain. Literally and figuratively."

"Why wouldn't he want me off 'em?" he was so frustrated. He must have just left the office.

"Did you ask him that question?"

"You know doctors, Shane. Not like I would have got an answer in plain English. Figured you'd know."

"Well, I haven't seen your post-visit report, but it's my presumption that he wants to play it safe. You know he spent most of his day in the operating room with you, right? An eight hour surgery, you had. He probably doesn't want to undo all that by d/c'ing the crutches too soon."

"I was gonna be careful though, Shane!" he was worked up properly, and she could hear it over the roar of his pickup in the background.

"I know you were, Sy. I'm sure you were going to take all kinds of precautions. But what if you're walking into your kitchen, during a storm, and there's a loud clap of thunder, and Aika gets startled and busts past you? What if you're feeling good one day, and forget about it, and jog to catch up to someone holding the door open for you and miss a stick or something under foot? You can't prepare yourself for every pebble or patch of mud in your path, Sy. Accidents will happen. Some circumstances are beyond our control…we just have to do the best we can. The crutches are going to help you until we get you stronger. That's what we'll focus on until those two weeks are up."

"Why is it you can calm me down like this?" he asked, sincere and truly calmer than he had been.

"I'm just a good therapist, is all."

"Ya don't think that's really all, do ya?" the sound of his deep drawl in her ear from the receiver made her shiver. He was implying something that she just couldn't entertain. It wasn't possible for them right now. Maybe…down the road…in a few weeks…

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Sy. Come ready to work that knee."

"You didn't say no…" he was too hopeful. Damn it, he was cute when he was hopeful. She was glad she couldn't see his face light up like she knew it was doing.

"You may have noted I didn't say yes, either."

"Yet. See ya in the mornin', sunshine."

"Bye, Sy."

She put the receiver in the cradle and her face in her hands.

"Shit."

She had a feeling this particular patient was about to become much more complicated.

Up Next: Chapter Three-Therapeutic Activity

[muselover1901]

Re: prompts. “Quarantine.” Alternatively, something based off urban legends. Thanks!

Well it took me forever, but hey, the world is crazy and I am just so proud of myself for finishing this Quarantine AU for you! It’s definitely WAY bigger than a drabble (at just over 2700 words) but I had a lot of fun writing it and it really pushed my abilities as a writer. Thank you for the ask! Enjoy :)

Edit: Now posted to AO3

Here With(out) You

“Are you getting close to finishing? It’s almost eight o’clock and we haven’t eaten dinner yet,” Zen says as he plops down beside Shirayuki—well, not exactly beside her, but just outside the orbit of her ever-present sticky notes, journal articles, and scratch-paper lesson plans. She acknowledges his presence with a noncommittal hum before continuing her vigorous typing on the laptop balanced on her knees. Even before the pandemic, it wasn’t totally unusual for Shirayuki to work late—she is a graduate student, after all—but lately she has been spending every waking hour on either her lab’s vaccine research or creating online lessons for her introductory biology students.

Zen’s work-life balance honestly hasn’t been much better, but since most of his work as the Mayor’s Chief of Staff involves writing reports and attending video call meetings, he can turn off his computer at the end of the day and walk away from work. Shirayuki, unfortunately, does not have the same luxury.

His stomach growls, upset at the lack of food this late in the evening. Zen reaches over, guiding a stray hair behind her ear before setting his palm against her shoulder to get her attention.

“I can make us something easy, if you want. You really should take a break to eat something.”

Shirayuki doesn’t respond. He squeezes her shoulder gently and dips his head to try to catch her gaze, but she reacts with naught but a firm pursing of her lips as she scrutinizes her screen even more. Zen gives her a small shake, as if to wake her.

“Hm?” She blinks up at him, broken from her trance, her voice sounding thin and tired. “Sorry, Zen, I really need to get this done tonight.”

She gestures vaguely to the smudged sticky-note to-do list by her laptop keyboard, the usual tasks of exercise, meal prep, and do something fun with Zen and friends crammed between terms he half-recognizes as different types of data analyses.

“We have our Friday meeting tomorrow and I need to have the preliminary results ready to present.”

“It’s fine,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down her arm and offering her a tender smile as she turns back to her spreadsheet. She is such a hard worker, and right now she’s both working to save lives and to educate the next generation of scientists. Now was not the time to be selfish—even though he misses spending time with her, they just have to push through. And if that means Zen has to cook meals by himself, without Shirayuki’s incredible culinary talent for support, then he will gladly put his limited skill to use.

“How about I make pancakes?” he suggests, “I think we still have some eggs that need to be used, so I could scramble them too—if you want?”

Without looking up, Shirayuki murmurs a dry, “Sounds great, thank you.”

Zen stands and makes his way to their kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he goes. Even after three years of living together and countless Sundays spent chopping endless armies of vegetables as they prepped meals, there are few dishes he trusts himself to cook properly. It’s Mitsuhide and Kiki’s fault, really. When they were his roommates sophomore year, he tried his hand at a simple vegetable stew to feed Mitsuhide’s hockey team at their annual fall party. The final product honestly wasn’t half bad, but he forgot to peel the vegetables, which gave the soup a mild dirt-like aftertaste.

He honestly thought he would be able to laugh it off and learn from such a minor culinary mistake, but it turned out almost no one was willing to let him live it down—even Shirayuki couldn't resist the occasional jab when they cooked together. Indeed, one of the last times they enjoyed quality time together was during a massive day of meal prepping after their first pandemic shopping trip. Hours of chopping and grating and sautéing had driven them a little crazy, and Shirayuki had broken out in giggles while he diligently peeled his seventeenth potato.

It had taken some prodding, but eventually she managed to hold back her laughter enough to snicker, "It’s nice of you to actually peel them this time."

He’d responded with the most convincing glare he could muster before selecting a particularly long piece of peel from the pile on the counter, turning to her with a dangerous smirk, and depositing said peel on top of her head. This only served to bring back her laughter in full-force, the contagiousness of it gripping him and dragging him along until their whole house reverberated with the ridiculousness of it all.

Unlike vegetable soups, Zen had yet to mess up a batch of pancakes in his lifetime, a fact which he was quite proud of. That’s why he’d chosen to make them for Shirayuki the first morning after she stayed the night at his place. They’d groggily rolled out of bed, blushing furiously as they realized that their late-night study session for Advanced Composition had ended with both of them passed out on top of Zen’s covers with their laptops discarded by the foot of the bed. He’d insisted on making her breakfast before she left, partly because he felt bad about their awkward start to the day, but mostly because he’d been smitten with her for months and he just wanted to keep doing things with her.

Zen smiles at the memory as he gathers the ingredients and begins measuring out the flour. Even after all this time, he still treasures every moment together. And now, as they are stuck working from home for the foreseeable future, he misses her more than he did before they moved in together. Although they are around each other nearly all day, every day, they hardly interact outside of breakfast and a kiss goodnight. He sighs and forces his focus back to mixing the batter. Shirayuki is working hard and here he is being selfish again. He should be stronger.

Pushing down his loneliness, he flings himself into scrambling eggs and flipping pancakes with gusto. He quickly finishes the first set of pancakes, butters them, and stacks them neatly on Shirayuki’s plate next to her portion of eggs. For the final touch, he sprinkles a hint of powdered sugar across them and places a little dollop of fruit preserves on top. Hopefully these would look appetizing enough to entice her into taking a break from work to eat. With her plate in hand, Zen makes his way back to the living room and sets her meal on the coffee table.

“Food’s ready,” he announces. “Please don’t forget to eat.”

Shirayuki pauses, tired eyes flicking away from her screen to meet his and offering all the gratitude she can muster. “Thank you, Zen. I promise I will eat as soon as I finish this analysis.”

Zen offers a quick smile in return before heading back to the kitchen to make dinner for himself. He’d better check on her soon, just to make sure she doesn’t get sucked into her work despite her promise—although it is never intentional, her basic needs often fall by the wayside when she is hyper-focused like this.

Fifteen minutes later, Zen returns to the living room with his own stack of pancakes (chocolate chip) and scrambled eggs (sprinkled with his friend Obi’s homemade hot sauce, because the pain was always worth the flavor). And just as he feared, Shirayuki hasn’t touched her food.

“How’s it coming? Are you going to eat soon?” Zen settles into his spot on the couch next to her and cuts into his pancakes with his fork.

“Hm? Oh yes, I figured out why that regression was behaving unexpectedly, I had just flipped the variables.” She bites her lip. “I guess after I fixed that, I just moved on to the next thing.”

Zen reaches out to tenderly place a hand on her cheek and guide her eyes away from her screen and to his own. Her eyelids droop a little, and he notices a small crease between her eyebrows—she looks so tired. He drags his thumb across her cheekbone and her eyes flutter shut as she relaxes into his hand.

His heart skips a little at the intimacy of their position; after all, it had been weeks since they had really shared a moment like this, just comfortable in stillness with each other’s full attention. Eyes still closed, Shirayuki reaches up to hold his hand against her cheek and sighs as she turns her head to press her lips against his palm. With a gentle squeeze of his hand, she releases him and turns to exchange her laptop for her plate.

Although she continues working while they eat, Zen is relieved to see her diligently taking bites between bits of code. It doesn’t take long before she cleans her plate entirely. With a yawn, Zen stretches and rises from the couch before collecting their dishes and returning to the kitchen to clean up. The clock above the stove reads 10:08pm.

How did it get so late? He’d just have to head right to bed after this. Dozing off during his morning call with the Mayor was not how he wanted to start his day tomorrow.

After finishing the dishes and changing into his sleep shirt, he returns to the living room to let Shirayuki know he’s going to bed—apparently she still has a couple hours of work ahead of her, but she promised she’d come to bed as soon as she was done. With Shirayuki resigned to her work for the night, Zen heads to their bed and does his best to get comfortable. As the weight of the blanket settles over him, he melts into the mattress and takes the deepest, most relaxing breath he’s taken all day. Despite his body giving in to its need to rest, Zen’s mind still races with thoughts of the meeting tomorrow morning and of the latest case counts in the city. God, he can’t wait for the day when all of this chaos is over. He and Shirayuki could take a weekend off and hike Mount Koto just like they did senior year after finals. He sighs at the thought.

Visions of them packing their picnic supplies into his old backpack flash through his mind. He’s smiling as he makes Shirayuki’s sandwich with the mustard by the meat and the veggies under the cheese, just the way she likes it. The sunshine warms their faces as they walk along the trail, and Shirayuki is a vision in her button-up hiking shirt and sunhat, all glowing skin and bright smiles. He reaches their picnic spot first, so he spreads their blanket and sets out their food. Shirayuki’s still a ways behind, but she’ll be there with him soon, he tells himself. She will. He busies himself smoothing the blanket and making sure her sandwich is arranged just so with a nice serving of chips and a gleaming red apple.

He’s just about to polish her apple for a second time when he realizes he doesn’t hear the crunch of her footsteps on the trail anymore. Panicked, he shoots up from his seat and runs over to the trail to try to find her, to no avail. Maybe she went off-trail to relieve herself? No that can’t be it, she’s taking way too long, and she would have told him if she was going off trail, right? Oh god—what if she hurt herself and she’s stuck somewhere down the trail? Zen abandons the picnic and runs as fast as his legs can take him down the trail, until—

He hears the faint tapping of fingers on a keyboard. Looking across the trail, he sees the edge of a laptop screen poking out from behind a tree. As he approaches it, the sound gets louder and louder, until it feels almost deafening and Zen has to cover his ears to avoid the incessant din. He looks around the tree’s thick trunk and sees Shirayuki in front of the screen, her hair disheveled and eyes unblinking as she types away.

She’s absolutely overworking herself! Zen can’t let her keep doing this. He should have caught it before it got this bad, he should have pulled her away from work and made her take care of herself. Regardless, he refuses to let this go on any longer. He takes a deep breath, removes his hands from his ears, and reaches out to set his hand on her shoulder as he always does when he needs to get her attention. His hand goes right through her, as if she were a ghost.

He wakes to find her side of the bed empty.

Zen’s sleep shirt is clinging to his sweating chest and the sheets are tangled up in his legs. He kicks them off and rolls over with a groan. So much for getting a good nights’ sleep before the meeting tomorrow morning. He reaches for his bedside lamp, trying to feel the small switch in the dark. It takes him a minute, fingers clumsy and sleep-addled, but he finally finds it with a click and squints against the soft, yellow light. He yawns and drags his phone towards him by its charging cable and groans again when he sees the time. 2:37am.

With little desire to return to the stifling sheets, he decides it’s best to just get out of bed and have a glass of water before trying to sleep again. He shuffles out of the bedroom, and as the door clicks behind him, his tired mind peripherally registers that the living room light is still on. But with water being his body’s primary goal, he drowsily continues on to the kitchen and downs a full glass in three big gulps when he gets there. With his mind cleared from the coolness of the water, he realizes that even though the living room light is still on, Shirayuki’s persistent typing is absent.

When he reaches the living room, he finds Shirayuki on the couch, slumped to the side with her lips parted and a quiet snore escaping her with each exhale.  Her laptop is open and teetering dangerously close to the edge of her lap, but the screen has long since shut itself off. There’s still a pencil behind her ear, too.

With as much gentleness as he can muster this late at night, Zen extracts her laptop and moves it over to her desk so it can charge overnight. He removes the pencil from behind her ear and brushes her hair away from her eyes.

“Shirayuki, come to bed.” Her eyes crack open ever so slightly, and she grumbles but does not stir. Zen sighs. Even in sleep—no, especially in sleep—she’s as stubborn as ever.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?” She mumbles something unintelligible, but’s all the affirmation he needs. He pushes his arms underneath her knees and shoulders, steels himself, and scoops her up. At first, her head lolls to the side, but then she turns and nuzzles against his chest. He can’t help but smile down at her as he carries her back to the bedroom and slowly places her on top of the sheets.

“Shirayuki, you should change out of your clothes,” he says.

She stirs a bit before slurring, “Don’t wanna. Wanna sleep.”

“If you don’t change now, you’ll regret it in the morning. You know you will.”

At this, Shirayuki groans and pushes herself up off the mattress. She insists he help her take off her clothes, which makes him laugh and blush in equal measure.

It’s only after she is changed and settled under the sheets that he finally lets himself sink into their bed again, mind and body finally relaxed with the knowledge that she’s next to him and already half asleep. He turns off his bedside lamp with a click and lets the rhythm of her breathing lull him back to sleep. Just as the last remains of his consciousness are about to slip away, he feels the delicate press of fingers against his shoulder, the tickle of a whisper against his ear, and the softness of a kiss against his temple.

“Thank you, Zen. I love you.”

[smolbeandrabbles]

How Did You Love - George VI & Reader (Darkest Hour)

100 Sentence Prompt Request

Here’s a concept. I’m gonna use an “&” now to denote something more platonic 😁

@mandy23b  @wltz-bby @happyskywhale​ #MendoTagSquad

George VI + 5, 18 & 31 - “I’m not here to make friends.” / “What’s the matter, sweetie?” / “I haven’t slept in ages.” Requested by @purebloodwitch​

Author’s Note: This makes it 30 Mendos with readers anyway. Is that crazy-!? It feels crazy!  The girl who started this way on back with Danny in January 2019 had no idea she’d end up here... no idea what she was in for! 😁 And now she has all of you, too! Reasons it’s not “x” reader? Simple, I feel kinda uncomfortable doing that because he was a real person - and Y’know, being from the UK myself he’s the father of the Queen - it wouldn’t have felt right.  But I did want to write this one, so here’s some platonic George! 😊 How Did You Love - Shinedown

Disclaimer: ...Uh. Well I guess I didn’t make up History / Darkest Hour has nothing to do with me / Lyrics not mine / gifs not mine  - the usual stuff! For fact, I did some research about Royal Assistants, and some of them have been female... 

Premise: It’s getting late in the evening, and the King is still working. You have just been given the unenviable task of trying to get him to retire to bed.

Words: 2099

Warnings: N/A 

____ You can have a sound of the thousand voices calling your name You can have the light of the world blind you, bath you in grace But I don't see so easily what you hold in your hands 'Cause castles crumble, kingdoms fall and turn into sand You can be an angel of mercy or give in to hate You can try to buy it just like it every other careless mistake How do you justify I'm mystified by the ways of your heart With a million lies the truth will rise to tear you apart This ain't no cross to bury We are the judge and jury, we are the judge and jury No one gets out alive, every day is do or die The one thing you leave behind Is how did you love, how did you love? It's not what you believe those prayers will make you bleed But while you're on your knees How did you love, how did you love?

---

It was getting pretty late when Elizabeth sent you to him. You had just about finished up your own work for the day, but you were more than happy to oblige her request; she couldn’t have seen so much of her husband these days. Especially not these days. You made your way through the Palace swiftly to find the King sitting at his desk tapping his pen against paper, deep in thought. You knocked politely on the door, rousing him, and when his eyes locked on you he narrowed them; “Yes?” “Sir, I have been sent by your wife to remind you that it’s getting late, and perhaps you aught to think about getting some rest.” He sighed, “Of course you have.” Then looked around himself wearily; “Would that I could, I have much to attend to.” You crossed the room, “Well, I don’t have to go home quite yet, is there anything I can help with?” Anything to do what you’d actually been asked to (You were slightly more scared of Elizabeth than you were him, too). You were the assistant secretary to the Sovereign, and you had never loved a job more than this one – it was just never a job you’d expected to have. For obvious reasons. George was never meant to be King. He pushed out his chair, and rifled through his desk before handing you a stack of papers; “I’m going to have to send a lot of notices out first thing tomorrow. Would you make sure these are all sorted and filed correctly.” “Yes Sir.” He glanced to the window, “I suppose we should be closing all the curtains at this late hour also… It shouldn’t be long before we’re issued a black out warning, I would think.” George motioned to stand, “No, it’s okay, I can do it… I shall need to collect envelopes from my office for these anyway…” You stacked the paper on a second table and turned back to him, “…Would you like anything else, Sir?” “I’m sure I can find more for you to do if need be.” He gave a nod, to dismiss you for now, and you backed out of the room. Making your way quickly to your usual office, you realised you wouldn’t be leaving any time soon – gathering a collection of envelopes you made your way back to him, checking your watch. You could write quick and still be neat, so you could have all of this done before midnight. Placing them down you drew the curtains, lingering for a second to stare at the moon. You would never get tired of the view from here either… Crossing back, he held out another paper to you. “Addresses…” he explained “You’ll need them.” You took it gently from him, “…Thank you.” You were about half way through before George made another sound; “Y/N?” “Yes Sir?” “Just how long have you been in my service?” You looked across to your King, head tipped – he was still concentrating hard on the paper in front of him. “Uh…” You only gave the illusion of having to think hard about it, “Eight years?” “Eight years.” He blew out a breath, “Fancy still having to address all my letters after eight years.” “I do enjoy my job, Sir.” You smiled gently, glad to see that he did also, before turning to you, eyebrow raised, “Is that so?” “Yes Sir. But, I’m not here to make friends.” He couldn’t help but laugh, “Friends? I’m simply passing the time of day.” “Evening.” You reminded him, “Late evening. Elizabeth is possibly not best pleased with me helping you and not forcing you to bed.” “You needn’t worry about her; I shall certainly take the blame.” Although you were only half joking about being friends with him – there was a certainly level of friendship to be gained from being in someone’s service for the best part of eight years. “I certainly must worry about her!” You possibly did more for the Queen than you did him these days, and reminding yourself that she did keep him in check meant a lot could be said about what you would face should you fail here. Still, you knew how much Elizabeth worried for him, and you worried for him too. The King would run himself into the ground if he kept going the way he had been – and his health wasn’t the best as it was. You didn’t want to fail here. He continued to watch you fold and seal letters, and you thought that getting distracted may well have been half the problem; “I suppose really you should like to return home.” “Not necessarily, Sir. If I have work to do – that is certainly paramount.” “You have someone to return to, yes?” You bit your lips together, raising your gaze to him again and blinked a few times, shaking your head; “No, Sir.” “Oh?” “He, uh…” Although even in the low lighting, George could see the tears smarting your eyes; “Oh. I see, I’m… I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault.” You rubbed your eyes, “I’m sorry, Sir.” “You needn’t apologise to me. I have upset you.” He sighed gently, “May I ask, your opinion on our Prime Minister?” You thought it was a strange jump, but logical. The thread of war ran through most conversations now. “You didn’t…” you hummed before answering his question, “I believe, perhaps if anyone will get us through this he will.” George nodded thoughtfully, “Do you believe that is the opinion of the country?” “I do, Sir. I certainly do.” “Thank you.” He gave a firm nod of agreement, and turned back to his paper – conversation over. But suddenly his deep thought became frantic scribbling – and it left you wondering exactly what you might have said, but you were grateful for it. Once you had finished your task, you thought he might let you go and accompany you out of the room. No such luck. “Ah, one more thing before you go – would you distribute the letters accordingly, make sure they are all ready for the morning?” “Of course.” You nodded, and then kicked yourself for not being stronger but wondered what exactly you were supposed to do. You may be able to gently coax him, but you couldn’t force the King to stop working and go to bed.  After you’d placed them in all the correct pigeon holes for mail distribution, you were making your way back to him to say goodnight and froze. Coming down the stairs, wondering exactly where her husband was, was the Queen herself. “Elizabeth-!” Your voice was at least a little timid and you bowed your head, “My apologies – I tried but, he just won’t…” But she smiled gently, “I thought as much. I’ve come to collect him, thank you for trying. Oh dear, I hope he hasn’t had you working?” “Oh. I... enjoy it!” She tsked you, “Must I apologise on behalf of my husband now-!?” “No, he- I was happy to help – I thought it might get him to you sooner.” “Nonsense, you should be on the way home.” She touched your cheek gently, “Look what he’s doing to you! Don’t you worry, darling, I’ll handle this.” You couldn’t help but grimace a little as you watched her stalk towards his drawing room; you were going to get him in trouble, you could already tell. You followed close behind, ready to come to his aid if needs must. Elizabeth didn’t even need to knock, and as soon as she entered the room she sighed deeply; “What’s the matter, sweetie?” “Oh. Nothing more than usual.” He blustered, as she made her way to him, sitting on his desk. “Darling, come to bed. You cannot rule a Kingdom on as little sleep as you’ve been getting…” “Sleep? I haven’t slept in ages.” She ran a hand through his hair, “Well, shouldn’t that say it all? Come along. Come to bed.” “But I just need to-” She stopped him, taking his pen from his hand, “You don’t need to just anything… Besides, you’re running our staff into the ground as much as you are yourself. And you need them at their best, as much as the country need you at your best.” She smiled, “You need to set an example, my darling.” You felt embarrassed, and although you wanted to cover your face, you couldn’t look away from this. Watching the Queen be sweet but stern with George was a sight that was possibly a rarity to get to witness. And all of a sudden you found yourself overcome with a range of emotion; you placed your hand to your heart for a moment with a smile, and realised how much you were yearning - All I can wish for now is a love like this… George stood, and let her take his arm, “I suppose you are right.” “I am right.” She laughed gently, and leant up to kiss his cheek. And even your King couldn’t help but beam at that. You backed from the room again as they walked through and stood politely to one side as they continued their conversation. The way that they looked at each other like they couldn’t possibly have been more in love. From how she was holding his arm, to the way that he was smiling at her… You loved this family so much – eight years’ service may have been a long time, but it wouldn’t be enough. You hoped you got to be here for the rest of his reign. And you hoped to witness many more moments like this. Elizabeth paused their chatter, and turned to you with a brilliant smile and a slight bow of her head, making you bow yours politely in turn. “Thank you, Y/N. For attempting to get this stubborn man to bed. And for helping him, when he needs it the most.” “It’s my pleasure. Any time…” George was smiling too, though, “Extremely good work, Ms.L/N... but I want you here bright and early to finish up!” He was joking, of course and you could tell that by his amusement, but the Queen swatted his arm; “Leave the poor girl alone and let’s get to bed-!!! It’ll be tomorrow before you let her get home!” “In fact,” the King glanced at the first clock he could find, “She’s probably missed the last train. Y/N, perhaps you would like to stay in a guest room tonight?” Your heart caught in your chest for a moment, you were certainly honoured to even be asked such a thing “Oh, I-” “Yes.” Elizabeth agreed, “Stay. But don’t let him have you up too early now! I’ll keep an eye on him!” George chuckled, and you blushed again at their kindness, “I… I would like to accept your offer, that’s extremely generous of you.” “Ah, nonsense.” He smiled, “You’ve stayed with us before, no?” “Yes, but not here.” Elizabeth turned to him, “Don’t get any ideas that she will stay and work ridiculous hours for you now!” “Perish the thought!” The King smiled and then nodded to you, “Goodnight, Ms.Y/N. I shall see you tomorrow.” “Goodnight, Sir. Goodnight, Elizabeth.” She let go of his arm and embraced you, “Thank you. I know you’ll look after him well.” “Oh, you did the work…” You hugged her back, “…It is me who should be thanking you for letting me stay.” She shook her head to let you know you didn’t have to thank her, “Please, it’s our pleasure, and quite honestly-” Elizabeth looked back to her husband, “-my relief!” George coughed but didn’t offer retaliation, “You know you way to the guest wing?” You nodded, “I do, Sir.” “Good, see yourself to bed. And make sure you are well rested.” “I will, I promise!” You bowed before waving them off and watched them ascend the stairs together, the way she was quite clearly still chiding him for being up so late – but his gentle responses, and the way that they laughed together. You couldn’t help but stare after them and yearn once more for a relationship just like that, and eventually a marriage like they had. It was clear how much love and respect they had for each other – and right then, now more so than ever you were happy that they were the heads of your Monarchy. You watched them until they were out of sight, and couldn’t help but beam as you turned up the corridor to the guest rooms. They were both right of course – it was about time you got some sleep, after all, it sounded like you had another busy day in store. But it wasn’t something you would miss for the world.

---

3/16

Thank you for reading! 🥰

[nobody7102]

Losers in Life- IT One-shot

Paring: Losers Club X Reader(Platonic other than Stan)

Requested by Anonymous 

Warning: Gore, suicide, swearing, bad spelling

Word Count: 1773

Seated on the couch of their home she stared at the stairwell, watching as the paramedics transported Stanley’s body out of the house. Her hands were clammy and tears swelled in her eyes.

“Mrs. Uris…. I know this is hard right now, and a million things are probably going through your head but did your husband give you any reason to believe that he was going to kill himself?”

Her eyes darting from the now empty stairwell to the officer in front of her, she shook her head. She didn’t know what to do. Should she still be sitting? Should she stand? What should she do with her hands? 

“Ma’m?” The Officers snapped her out of her daze

“Sorry….” She shook her head once more wiping her eyes and nose “No ...he seemed fine, no issues at work, or with either of our families, or with us….we…..we had just planned a trip….”

“Did anything happen recently to him that could have caused him to think about suicide?” 

She thought for a moment before her mind went to the phone call he had gotten that caused him to retreat to his study then to the mailbox with a stack of letters,it did seem odd ...not to mention the fact that she had gotten a call moment after…. But Stan was an accountant after all and he liked to do things the old fashioned way when communicating with clients. 

“....I mean……..he had lost a client earlier this week……..” Lie

“...and that previous client had called earlier…” Another lie, she knew well enough to not lie to the police yet she did it anyways.

The officer nodded. 

“One last question Mrs. Uris then we’ll hopefully be out of your hair, and this is a standard question in general. Are you going anywhere or do you have any plans to go anywhere? We just want to make sure that you’re accounted for until the courier clears this as a suicide.” 

Rubbing her temples she thought for a moment.

“No we…well we had planned to...go to… our hometown early tomorrow……. Later today.” she corrected herself since it was well past midnight. 

“And when would you have left for that?” She looked at the clock on the wall, then back to the officer. “Within the next two hours….” 

“Are you still planning to go?” She nodded, “His family deserves to hear it from me.”

The officer nodded writing the answers down before he put the notepad away. 

“Well Mrs. Uris, I hope that you get their safely. I would advise that you leave a little later in the day but that choice if up to you, and I’m so sorry for your loss”

“Thank you…” as the officer started to leave she walked over to him catching him in the doorway. “Officer?”

He turned to her. “Yes?” “Do you think I could get his wedding ring off of him before they take him off?” her voice shook lightly as she spoke those words.

The officer looked between her and the ambulance. Motioning for her to give him a moment, he jogged over to the ambulance. Speaking to one of the EMTs she saw one of them disappear into the ambulance before re-emerging and talking to the officer. It took him a moment before returning to her.

“It took a minute for them to get it to me because they had to sanitize it but…” he held out a bag for her that held Stanley’s ring. 

Taking the bag the thanked the officer once more before she watched the officer and paramedics leave. Retreating back into the house she jogged upstairs grabbing a suitcase out of the closet. 

Throwing the suitcase onto the bed in what once was her shared bedroom but now it was…..just her’s. Going over to the dresser she started taking things out and throwing them in the direction of the suitcase. Before she started to re-dial the number that had called her before.

“Hello?” a voice came from the phone as she set it on speaker.

“Mike? Is that you?” she started to pack the suitcase. “I changed my mind I’m coming back.” “Are you sure? I thought we both agreed you staying put was the best option for your situation.” His voice strained.

“I know!...I know ...but the circumstances are different now, Mike … something happened today...and I know it was that fucken clowns fault...” with that she hung up the phone and continued to pack. 

Pausing for a moment she took Stan’s ring out of the bag butfor going over to her jewelry box, and taking out a chain with a small flower petal in it. 

Stan had gotten her a necklace for their third wedding anniversary, the petal was apart of her bouquet. Sliding the ring onto the chain, she placed it around her neck before she closed up the suitcase.

Finishing packing she changed her close before bringing her suitcase and purse out to the car. As she sat in the car she went over a checklist in her head. 

“House is locked ...Everything packed…. Phone and charger ...check all check…”

Pulling out of the driveway she set up her GPS for the one place she’s hoped she’d never have to return to. Seeing a message pop up on the screen of the car she glanced at it.

‘Returning home Y/N? Better make sure that you’re wearing your floaties, because I can’t wait to watch you float. Just. Like. Stan.’

Place her hazard lights on Y/N took her hand off the wheel tears pouring from her eyes, she punched the screen, letting out a scream. The glass didn't break, it didn’t even crack but her hand would be bruised the next day. Turning off her hazards she sobbed as she drove down the road. 

It took about two hours before she was fully able to stop crying, and by then she was about halfway to Derry from were she and Stan lived. So she decided it was as good a time as any to make a rest stop. Pulling into a gas station she turned off the ignition before unbuckling and slouching back in her seat. 

She covered her face letting out a sigh, pulling out her phone Y/N scrolled through her notifications seeing the message from the unknown number deleting the chat. She also noticed some more messages from Mike. 

‘I’ve got Bill here now, everyone else should be arriving the same time as you.’

 ‘Might be a little late took a rest stop.’ she sent back before she placed the phone back in her bag. Moving her y/h out of her face she hummed before starting the car and preparing to leave once more. 

As she looked up Stan stood in front of the car reaching out for Y/N. He was pale and bloodied, by how stiff his stance was he it looked like rigamortis had set in. 

Staring in horror Y/N froze watching him walk towards the her side of the car. Eyes still on Stan she shifted the gears of the car hearing an inhuman like laugh erupted from his throat. 

“YOU WILL FLOAT Y/N! IF I CAN YOU CAN TO!” 

The tires screeched as the car ran out of parking lot.

Sobs left Y/N’s mouth as she barreled down the road.

It took another two hours till she reached Darry, plus the separate hour she took to calm herself down. 

Her car was parked outside of a chinese restaurant courtesy of MIke, and as she got out of the car she saw a group exit. All of them were shouting before two left the group which left four standing outside of the restaurant. Feeling her phone ring in her pocket, she noticed a redheaded girl holding a phone, and Y/N’s voice mail could be heard. 

‘Hey you’ve reached by voicemail please leave a message.’

“Hello Mrs. Uris, this is Beverly Marsh i’m an old friend of Stanley I was wondering-” the line dropped. “If you’re trying to reach me I’m right here.” Y/n now stood a few feet away from the group of four, and for the first time in the past few hours Y/N had let someone or in this case multiple someone's see how much of a mess she had been. Her Y/H was messy, eyes were red from lack of sleep and all of the crying she’d done, from first glance Y/N looked rough.

Mike separated from the group walking over to Y/N,

“Are you okay? You said something changed? What happ-”

“I’m sorry, but w-who are you?” Bill looked to between Mike and this women.

Mike took a few moments speaking with Y/N before he turned to was Losers remained in front of the restaurant.

“Ben, Bill, Bev… This is Y/N…. durring that summer she was...also one of Pennywize’s fear targets.”

“Mike called me, wanted me to come back…” Y/N crossed her arms shifting on her feet. “Originally I wasn’t gonna come but,” Her hand went to her necklace. “Things change.”

Ben stared at her before turning to the others, 

“You’re that girl that Bowers always harassed by the school? He got your hair caught in his car door and started to drive with you still stuck…” Ben’s voice got quiet towards the end 

“I also happen to be Stan’s wife…” she took out her phone playing Bev’s message.

“If you are Stan’s wi-w-wife” Bill’s voice was strained as he tried to get the words out then w-h-w-where is he?!”

Y/N looked to the warn tar road eye’s starting to well up with tears, she squeezed the necklace before clearing her throat and blinking back the tears.

“Stan’s de-.....” her voice dropped before she even got the word out, she covered her mouth taking a few breaths before just ripping the bandaid off. “Stan killed himself..” she choked a bit on her own words.

“Y/N” Bev slowly walked over to her placing a hand on her shoulder, “I know this is a hard question ...but it is essential that I know this answer. Where did Stan kill himself?” “He umm…. In our bathroom” “Bathroom.”

Y/N and Bev both spoke at the same time answers allining down to the last syllable.

Y/N eyed Bev horrified, no one new about Stan other than the first responders. Much less where he died. Before Y/N could speak Bev slowly continued.

“..You, you saw him an hour ago. But you knew it wasn’t him.”

Y/N’s knees gave out as Bev spoke. Tears pouring from her eyes, catching Y/N Bev slowly sank to the ground with her looking to the three who were still standing wondering what to do.

[starker-stories]

An Accord (WIS), Chapter 2

I’m sorry I missed a day re-posting Accord. I really want to get it all back out there so I can continue on with chapter 10-13 when I hit that point. Unfortunately, I’m still sleeping off whatever hit me Monday-Wednesday while I was in the hospital. I’m pretty sure I’m back up to normal now. So let’s start this daily posting thing again.

As a bit of annoyance, I’m going to remind you that @starker-stories is formerly starkerstories, which got accidentally deleted. So if you followed me at the non-hyphenated blog, I hope you’ll make the move with me to the hyphenated one. I miss all’y’all. 

I’ll be re-creating my individual chapter posts for An Accord over here on the blog that replaces starkerstories. Until I hit the current chapter, I’ll be posting daily. They’ll have links to both tumblr and AO3 chapter links. I’m sorry if that bothers people who’ve seen this all before in the tag. I’m content to leave all my other fic as AO3 only, but this is my current favorite child, so I’m spoiling it rotten.

This fic is on a weekly update schedule. Hopefully every Friday. More chapters may appear sooner if the writing is going well. Because I have 0 self-control.

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: “Oh. My. God. Old man stereo.” Peter disentangled himself from Tony’s hold. “Feed me.” Bucky started to rise. “Sit down, Bucky. I didn’t say cook. I told him to feed me. Feed US.” ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 2:  The pass-code to the penthouse

A movie and a half later, Tony sat on the other end of the sofa from Bucky. “Taken care of. Tomorrow you’ll meet Fury up at HQ.”

“It’ll take more than one day,” Bucky said quietly. “There were a lot of missions.”

Tony nodded.

“I remember all of them, Tony. I’m sorry.”

It was still hard for Tony to reconcile the raw emotion of what happened with the knowledge that the man sitting next to him was not the man in that videotape. “I know, Bucky. I’m getting there, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’ll head upstate for a few hours a day until it’s finished. Either Fury or Maria Hill will handle the debrief personally. Whatever Ross finds out will be filtered through them, cross-checked by FRIDAY, gone over by me, and then given back to Fury to release.”

“They agreed to that?”

Tony laughed. “Of course not. It’s all going directly from Fury to Ross, with not a single stop in between.”

Bucky was quiet for a long time and they both pretended to watch the movie. “Steve underestimated you.”

“You think?”

They watched the movie until its end. “Didn’t peg you for a rom-com man, Bucky,” Tony said smiling.

“War movies kinda lost their charm.”

“Overly realistic sci-fi ones lost theirs for me,” Tony countered.

“Drama… I live enough of that lately.”

“Ditto action.”

“Romance never gets old,” Bucky said finally.

“God, are you two getting weepy over Tom Hanks movies?” Peter said, laughing and landing in Tony’s lap once he dropped his backpack by the elevator.

“You told me you liked that I’m a romantic,” Tony said, kissing Peter lightly on the lips.

“Yes, but…” Peter picked up the remote, clicked, and brought up the title. “Sleepless in Seattle?”

“Shut up, kid.”

“Shut up, kid.”

“Oh. My. God. Old man stereo.” Peter disentangled himself from Tony’s hold. “Feed me.” Bucky started to rise. “Sit down, Bucky. I didn’t say cook. I told him to feed me. Feed US.”

“Take out?”

“Take me… us… out.”

“Your house is full of food, Tony,” Bucky said. “Take your boyfriend out to dinner, I’ll be fine.”

“I said, feed US,” Peter hollered back from the bedroom.

“Thai?” Tony suggested.

“Thai.” Peter agreed, coming back, tugging on a fresh shirt.

“Chinese?” Bucky countered.

“Thai wasn’t a thing in your day?” Peter asked.

“In Thailand it was. Not in Manhattan.”

Tony laughed. “How long has it been since you were here… that you remember?”

“Uh… Forty-three? I’ve been here since, and I remember, but it wasn’t to sample the cuisine. Back in forty-three, pretty much everyone still called it Siam, even though it had changed already. But by any name, there weren’t any restaurants serving that kind of food. Chinese was the closest.”

“I doubt spending the last year, since Wakanda, on the run with Rogers broadened your horizons.”

“Not really.”

“Thai then,” Peter insisted.

“Yes, but proper Thai. We’re not dragging our new guest to that place you and May like.”

“Fine. Rich people Thai.”

“Yes, Thai. Not Thai by way of American Cantonese and whichever Korean guy they have working the kitchen today.”

Bucky smiled at the couple, arguing as they wandered back and forth from the bedroom to the living room, various bits of clothes flying while they changed.

“There.” Peter said, finally dressed in much the same as he’d started out in.

“Ready?” Tony asked Bucky.

“We can just… go out?” He’d spent all of his time, since he escaped from HYDRA, on the run. The idea of just being able to walk outside the door and go to a restaurant was unbelievable.

“Well, yeah,” Peter said.

“It can be a bit of a zoo once I’m recognized,” Tony admitted. “But that’s why I get driven even though it’s only a few blocks away, and I’ll have security there.”

“Iron Man needs security?” Bucky asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No, Iron Man does not need security,” Tony said sharply. “However Tony Stark, the fifth richest man in the world and New York celebrity needs security. Unless you fancy being mobbed by everyone with a cellphone.”

“Not fun,” Peter said sagely.

Happy was waiting with the Rolls outside Tony’s private elevator in the garage when the three of them arrived.

“Bucky, this is Happy Hogan. Head of Security for Stark Industries, but I also make him be my driver and pilot still. He tolerates it because I’m so loveable. Happy, Bucky Barnes. He’s staying with Peter and I for awhile.”

“Mr. Hogan.”

“Sergeant Barnes.”

“Can we not? It wasn’t him. It was someone else. I’m… getting over it. I appreciate my defense squad, Happy, but save the death glare for Rogers if he ever shows up.”

“Tony’s taking us out to dinner,” Peter said brightly.

“Thai?” Happy asked.

“He’s nothing if not predictable,” Tony said, helping Peter in. “There’s going to be grooves carved into the road from the tower to the Thai restaurant.”

“To match the grooves from the tower to the Italian one you insist on going to every time it’s your choice,” Peter countered.

“Italian?” Bucky asked. “You been to Gargiulo’s?”

“Fuck yes. I haven’t been in years. But it was as close as you get to Napoletano outside of Naples. Sorry kid, you’re overruled. Happy! Change of plan. Coney Island.”

“What‽” Peter screeched. “I will be as old as you two before I eat.”

“Yeah, true. Never mind the car. Make the arrangements, Hap. We’ll meet you on the helipad.”

“What the fuck?” Peter said.

“What the fuck?” Bucky said, just a little bit behind him.

“Oh, pretty and beautiful chime in,” Tony said, teasingly. “You think you’re going to dangle the possibility of me eating like my m… Oh.” Tony gasped and sat heavily down onto the backseat of the car. His eyes closed tightly shut and he began hyperventilating.

“Shit,” Bucky whispered. He backed away until he was up against the wall of the garage, as far away from Tony as he could get. He watched as Peter climbed next to Tony. Once the kid had Tony in his arms, Bucky ran up the garage ramp and kept running.

“Stop him,” Tony gasped out. “Lock the garage down before he gets out.” He flailed for Happy’s arm. “It’s not his fault,” he told Happy. Which was as far as Tony’s bravery would take him. He buried his face against Peter’s chest. “It’s not his fault,” he said quieter.

“I know, Tony. It’s okay. He’s… his twin brother.”

“Yeah.” Tony drew a shaky breath and another and another. Slow and deep. In the safety of Peter’s arms, it was easy to convince himself of that. Twin brother. That made sense. It was a gut level reaction to seeing the same face associated with…

Tony was sitting on the edge of the carseat when Bucky came back down, followed by Happy. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“You couldn’t.”

“Debatable. But I don’t want to kill you. Your dead twin brother on the other hand,” Tony said, trying at a wan smile.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky sat cross-legged on the garage floor in front of the car door’s opening.

“I forgot who you aren’t. It’s… I got caught up in the moment. My… her cousin used to work at the place. She and I ate there a lot the summer between high school and MIT. Howard was setting things up in L.A. that summer. It…” Tony closed his eyes again. “I don’t want to blame you,” he said quietly. “I know it wasn’t you.”

“She was Italian? That wasn’t in the file. Nothing was. A time. A date. A location. A mission. I didn’t know who. Not until after. Until just before Pierce had me wiped again and sent me back to Siberia for storage.” Bucky tried to hide his reaction to his memory of the procedure.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said.

Peter reached out for each of their hands. “Takeout, obviously.” He helped both men to their feet and led them to the elevator. “Chinese or pizza?”

“Chinese,” they both said.

“Fantastic.” Peter leaned his head on Tony’s shoulder and wrapped their arms together. But he kept his hand reached out to hold Bucky’s.

~~~~~

They let Peter pick the movie.

“I thought you didn’t like sci-fi?” Bucky asked.

“To be honest, the whole ‘sitting still pretending to be mentally engaged by a movie’ is new to me,” Tony offered in his defense.

“You told me you loved Star Wars.”

“Yeah. Star Wars.”

“And Star Trek.”

“That’s okay too.”

“That’s sci-fi!” Peter said emphatically.

“Technically, that’s space opera,” Tony countered.

“You don’t have to sit and watch movies with me,” Peter said, sounding actually hurt.

“I like sitting and watching movies with you. I never said I didn’t. I said it was new to me.”

“Watching movies can’t be new to you. He’s older than you and it’s not new to him,” Peter said, nodding towards Bucky.

“Baby, the last movie I sat and watched all the way through, in one sitting, was Star Wars. The summer right before I was sent to boarding school in the fall.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay. It’s just… new. Sitting still for this long. Not… doing anything.”

“You’re watching a movie.”

“No, baby. You’re watching a movie. I’m watching you.” Tony leaned over and gave Peter a kiss. He was about to deepen it when he remembered they weren’t alone. He chuckled. “Sorry.”

Peter laughed. “I foresee us bumbling around each other saying ‘sorry’ a lot.”

“You haven’t said ‘sorry’ yet, kid,” Bucky grinned.

“Call me kid again and I’ll web your cool metal arm to the floor again.” Peter grinned back. “Then I’ll say sorry for it after.”

~~~~~

“Bucky. Hey, Bucky. It’s all right. You’re safe. You’re in New York. You’re in Stark Tower. Bucky. It’s Peter. Parker. Peter Parker. You’re okay.”

Bucky punched in the direction of the voice. His punch was… caught. His arm made an electromechanical whir. He opened his eyes.

“Hi Bucky,” Peter smiled at him, holding his metal fist in his hand. “You were having a nightmare. No, no. Don’t move yet.” Peter put Bucky’s hand down onto the bed.

“Peter?” Bucky said hoarsely.

“Yeah,” he smiled again.

“You shouldn’t wake me up from a nightmare. I could hurt you.”

“Hi, I’m Spider-Man. You can’t hurt me. You already tried to hurt me and didn’t. But I didn’t wake you up. I know better.”

“You know better?” Bucky asked, stretching his legs out, one at a time, then his right arm, moving his fingers.

“Nightmares. Kinda the pass-code to the penthouse.”

“Tony?” Peter nodded. “You?” Bucky asked, less credulously. Peter nodded again.

“Welcome to the fabulous superhero life.”

“Some of mine were from before the superhero life,” Bucky said quietly.

“Some of Tony’s. Some of mine, too. It doesn’t matter who has them worse, when they’re happening, they’re all worse.”

“You can go back to bed now, kid. Thanks. But Tony’ll be missing you.”

Peter sucked in his lips, but stayed.

“He’s not in bed?”

“When he’s avoiding nightmares, he doesn’t sleep.”

“Wish I could learn that trick,” Bucky said bitterly. He saw Peter’s expression. “No, I guess I don’t.”

“It could be three days or more before he sleeps. However long it takes his body to pass out this time around. I’ll be there when he needs me.”

“Who’s there for you, kid?”

“Tony is. When I wake up crushed by tons of concrete or seeing my uncle get murdered or clinging onto the skin of an airplane as it falls from the sky or…”

“Price of admission to the Stark Tower penthouse suite,” Bucky said, “one lifetime of nightmares.”

“Basically,” Peter said, nodding. “You okay? Tony doesn’t like being alone after. You used to have Steve…”

Bucky sighed. “Not exactly. Our relationship was…”

“Complicated?”

He chuckled. “That’s one way to put it. The thing you and Tony have? We grew up in a different time.”

“I thought you two were together?”

“We were. But not like you and Tony. It was more… casual.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “You don’t sound casual.”

“It was all it could be. We were looking for different things. The thing I wanted… it wasn’t possible back then. Then other things became a habit… then it was hard to fall out of those habits…”

“Tony had those habits. He told me what it was like. I can’t imagine it. Not really. To know you want one thing, but lie and hide and pretend to want something else. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Fear’s where you begin, Peter,” Bucky said. He rolled onto his side and balled up the pillow under his head. “I’m glad you don’t know where to begin.”

“Tony learned to get over it.”

“He had you to make him want to get over it. A cute boyfriend’s a pretty strong motivator.”

Peter giggled and blushed. “You’re a cute boyfriend, why didn’t Steve get over it?”

“I wasn’t even sure what we were. What we could be. What I even wanted us to be anymore. I had him before the war, I lost him after I shipped out. Then I had him again for awhile during the war and lost him again. Then I had him after HYDRA. But this third time? I think ‘lost’ has finally won. Whatever we might’ve had…” Bucky shook his head. “The Steve I knew, either before or during the war, wouldn’t have made the decision he has. Whoever he’s become, he isn’t my Steve anymore.”

They fell into silence. “Go to bed, Peter. You have class and I have the first of my debriefs with Fury. Trade ya,” he said, smiling.

“Not for all the money in Tony Stark’s bank account.” Peter leaned over and gave Bucky a quick kiss on his temple. “Good night.”

~~~~~

“He had a nightmare,” Peter said, sleepily settling on a stool next to Tony’s workstation.

“Hmm.”

“He and Rogers weren’t… together together.”

“That’s good.”

“The Chitauri are attacking again.”

“Uh huh.”

“TONY!”

“What?” Tony spun on his chair to face Peter.

“Good night, FRIDAY.”

“Good night, Peter. Good night, boss.” FRIDAY powered down the holotables and the screens.

“I thought I told you not to fuck with FRIDAY’s protocols anymore.”

Peter laughed and took Tony’s hands. “Build tighter access to prevent a hardware intercept.”

“No one else but you has access to FRIDAY’s hardware.”

“Then don’t complain about me adding a ‘good night’ protocol to her.” He pulled on Tony’s hands until he was standing and following him.

“I don’t have to follow you upstairs, you know.”

“Yeah you kinda do if you want to keep your hands attached to the rest of you.”

“God, I hate you, Peter Parker.”

“Ya love me and ya know it.”

“He had a nightmare?” Tony asked, having heard the whole thing.

“Uh huh. A bad one. Don’t worry. I was there when he woke up.”

“I do love you, you know.” Tony let Peter finish leading him to their bedroom door. “I’m glad you were able to help him,” he said. “I know it’s not his fault. It doesn’t… make it hurt any less.” he added, quieter.

“It hurts him too.”

“I know. That’s why I’m glad you helped him.” Tony kissed Peter lightly before closing the door behind them and letting him finish taking him to bed.

[kmclaude]

Writing: A Monster (III) - Family

AKA Vampire!Tiefer AU

A vampire AU story of my characters Jehan and Tiefer and them where Tiefer’s a vampire, so sex and violence ensue and sexualized violence and violent sex also ensue, as well as cursing, mentions of various abuse, dubious consent, penetrative and nonpenetrative sex, infantilizing, and overall cruelty. This part features daddy kink and urine (in a mostly nonsexual way.)

Check the reblogs for links to part I and part II. Most of this is under a read more because it is LONG.

---

When Jehan kissed his godfather and agreed to stay with him -- choose him -- sure, he didn’t expect Tiefer to embrace him with open arms and suddenly give him free reign to come and go as he pleased, but he thought they would at least be beyond tying him down to the bedframe. Unfortunately, that was just wishful thinking.

“Parrain, please, you know I won’t leave.”

“An’ I believe you, baby, I do,” Tiefer said from above him as he tied his wrists to the frame, loose enough that he could move around, at least to roll his feet to the ground and piss in the bucket that Tiefer had dragged in from the yard and left beside the bed. “But I can’t go takin’ any chances. We gotta be careful now if you wanna live like a normal family.”

“Normal families don’t tie each other to the bed,” Jehan huffed, though he had laid in it willingly. Or, rather, as willingly as he could given the circumstances.

Tiefer frowned. “Mine did.” He tightened up the ties and then reached up, adjusting the freshly applied bandages he’d placed over his eye -- “for appearances,” he’d said when he’d applied it, right before walking Jehan to the back bedroom. “I promise, it won’t be much longer. Just until I can transfer out of this parish, somewhere far from here. Then you won’t have to hide away.” He pouted mockingly. “I’ll just tell the archbishop I’ve been so traumatized with what happened and so grievously injured at the hands of the poor confused godson I cared for so much, he’ll have to grant my request. And if not, well,” a dirty smirk crossed his face, “I’ll just say I fucked a bunch of little boys. They’ll transfer me without a word.”

Jehan obviously didn’t find it as funny as his godfather did.

“Speaking of little…” Tiefer walked around the bed and grabbed Jehan’s hips, hands on the waistband of his underwear, tugging the cloth down and off his legs.

“No-- wait--”

“Oh calm down, I’m not gonna touch you,” he huffed. “Ain’t got enough time to enjoy it.” He threw the pair of underwear to the other end of the bed. “Unless you’d rather piss yourself than use that bucket, you ain’t gonna want those on you.”

“Thanks...I think…” Jehan pouted, obviously preferring the third, unavailable option of an actual toilet but there wasn’t much he could do besides wait it all out: wait out the day, wait out Tiefer’s transition to a different parish, wait out his moods and trust until Jehan could get the upper hand...wait out Tiefer staring between his legs. When Tiefer’s gaze didn’t waver, however, he quickly crossed his legs, pulling his knees up to try and hide himself.

Unfortunately, it only gave Tiefer a very lovely and direct view of his still-smarting ass--an irony which was not lost on Tiefer, considering the sharp laugh he’d breathed out.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Jehan huffed, his face flushed.

Tiefer frowned. “Regrettably.” He leaned over Jehan, kissing him lightly on the forehead. “Gotta straighten out my story with my superiors,” he said, petting Jehan’s cheek and then his throat and his chest and his stomach until he reached between his thighs. “An’ then there’s the funeral service.” His fingers wrapped around Jehan’s cock.

“You said you wouldn’t--”

“Don’t interrupt, babydoll, that’s very rude,” Tiefer said, baring his teeth. “Like I was sayin’, gotta say the funeral for your mama an’ little baby brother.” He pumped him until he was just hard enough and then slowed, running delicate touches around the head. “Then, of course, I’ll have to tidy up on aaaall my duties that had gone slacking since I was...indisposed…” He glanced down at Jehan’s pink cock, flushed with blood, and grinned, teeth bared as he withdrew his hand. “Fuck you’re so cute, boy...too bad I won’t get a taste for a long while…”

“Wait--”

“See you later, Jehan.”

“No, don’t-- Come back!”

Tiefer all but disappeared in thin air with how fast he seemed to have left the bedroom, crossed the house, and gone out the sorry excuse for a door, leaving Jehan stripped, tied to the bed, and painfully, desperately aroused.

“Fuck.” He was in for a long day, alone with just his thoughts--thoughts of his (now late) family, his tenuous future with Tiefer, and his way out of all of this hell--and the latest ‘gift’ Tiefer deigned to bestow on him.

************************* Time passed --or at least it had to have considering eventually, with a few less-than-appetizing thoughts, Jehan was no longer in the compromising situation he started in-- and eventually Tiefer returned around sunset.

“Honey I’m home! Did ya miss me?” His voice carried down the dilapidated hallway and announced his arrival in the bedroom moments before he entered, face alight with a smug sort of glee. “Good to see you’re almost just the way I left you.”

Jehan was far less chipper. “I miss my mother, my father, and my brother; not you,” he replied. “Now let me go, I gotta piss.”

Tiefer frowned. “Missed you too, sweetie,” he said and nudged the bucket he’d left at Jehan’s bedside with the toe of his boot; the slosh of piss against metal replied. “Well, you obviously ain’t too good to use this.”

“‘Cause you left me tied to a goddamn bed all day long, what else was I supposed to do?”

Tiefer shrugged. “Piss yourself.”

“Look can you untie me so I can piss in the toilet like a goddamn human being?”

“That any way to ask for a favor?”

Jehan huffed, an angry desperation that quickly faltered when he met Tiefer’s gaze. “...Please?”

“Fine.” Tiefer circled to the head of the bed and began untying Jehan, still frowning at him. “I’ll let you go.”

“Thank you, parrain.” Jehan’s reply came quick, but Tiefer said nothing, expression still sour, until he’d finished untying him and Jehan found himself free to sit up, leave the bed, walk to the door, and--

“Where you think you’re goin’, boy?”

So much for Tiefer’s good mood.

Jehan froze. “The...toilet?”

“Ain’t you goin’ the wrong way?”

Jehan turned to look at him. “No?”

Tiefer pushed the bucket towards Jehan with the toe of his boot.

“But you said--”

“I said I’d let you go,” Tiefer replied. “Ain’t said you could use the commode.”

“Parrain--”

“Keep trying me, Jehan, and I’ll make sure your only option tomorrow is to piss yourself like the bratty little child you are.”

Jehan’s cheeks went red and he stepped away from the door. His gaze flitted between the bucket before him and Tiefer a few feet away, leaning against the bedframe, a dead silence hanging in the air.

It didn’t last long.

“Thought you needed to piss,” Tiefer drawled. “You know, I’m more than happy to help you with your sorry little excuse for a cock if you’re having trouble.”

“Can’t you leave? Or at least turn around?”

“ ‘Fraid not,” Tiefer replied, looking Jehan over and pointedly letting his gaze rest between Jehan’s thighs.

Scowling, Jehan spat something that sounded suspiciously like “pervert” before closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to meet Tiefer’s gaze and relieving himself in the bucket. When he was done, he didn’t look up but merely stepped back towards the door. “Happy?”

“I’d be happier if it were my hands on you rather than your own. But...” Stepping away from the bed, Tiefer scooped up the bucket and, as he passed Jehan, emptied it over his head before chucking the bucket aside. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

“Fuck!”

Tiefer sneered as he stepped out of the room, glancing back at Jehan, now piss-soaked. “We can do that later. C’mon, I brought home dinner -- not that you deserve any.” He laughed and headed down the hallway, calling back: “Wash up first, you fuckin’ reek!”

Jehan bit back the urge to ask him whose fault that was in the first fucking place.

************************

“I’m sorry.”

Those were the first words out of Jehan’s mouth as he walked into the kitchen, freshly clean of piss (or as fresh as he could get given their accommodations.) This new life of his was all just a game. He knew, in order to survive, he had to play nice, real nice, but good God did Tiefer make it difficult sometimes. Like earlier.

“Oh really?” Cigarette dangling from his mouth, Tiefer looked up from unwrapping the small take out containers from the bag he’d picked up on the way back to the house. His mangled eye was unbandaged. “What’re you sorry for? Besides getting dressed.”

Or like right now.

Jehan sighed. “I’m sorry for being a brat.”

“And?”

“And for being rude.”

“And?”

“And for...calling you a pervert?”

“Hm.” Tiefer pursed his lips. “Well I guess if that’s all you want to say sorry for…”

Jehan had to work to keep his incredulity from showing all over his face as Tiefer was still facing him.

“Here. Red beans.” Tiefer pulled the lid off a container and chucked a plastic spoon in it before he handed it to Jehan. “Eat up. Once it goes cold, it’s cold. We ain’t got shit in here to reheat it.”

“Thanks…”

“Not that you deserve it.”

Jehan frowned around  spoonful, swallowing hard. “If I don’t deserve it then why bother? We got cold cuts in the icebox.”

“You’ll be eating cold cuts for the next month until we leave.”

The spoon fell out of Jehan’s hand. “Excuse me?!”

Tiefer took a long drag. “I transfer out of here in one”--he held up a finger--”month so until then, we’re stuck here.” He paused, lowering his hand. “Or...well...you’re stuck here. I got my own bed to sleep in--and for appearance’s sake, I really should. Miss havin’ you in it, though...”

“Fuck that! I’m just supposed to be chained up here for a month?!”

“No. Not all the time. Just when I’m not around.”

“Which is starting to sound like all the damn time! Am I supposed to just be tied to that bed and hope you remember to maybe give me some food?”

Tiefer sneered. “Well maybe then you’ll miss me,” he said, taking another drag.

Jehan was silent for a moment. His hands shook. Then -- screams.

“THAT’S what this was all about? THAT’S why I couldn’t fucking piss in the toilet--why you dumped it on my fucking HEAD? You’re mad ‘cause I didn’t miss YOU?!”

Tiefer pursed his lips, cigarette dangling between his fingers. “You done your bratty little tantrum?”

“No I’m not fucking done, you--you fucking--you fucking monster! I hate you! You’ve taken everything from me!” He threw what was left of the dinner Tiefer had bought him at Tiefer’s feet. So much for playing nice. ��Fuck your house, fuck your stupid vampire blood disease bullshit, and fuck you!”

Slowly, Tiefer put out his cigarette. “You said you wanted a home,” he said, his eyes unblinking on Jehan. “You said you wanted to be with me. A nice, proper little family, you an’ me.”

“Didn’t have much of a fucking choice now did I, parrain?”

“I told you I could make this good for the both of us and all you had to do--all you had to fucking do--was be good. You think this bullshit” --he gestured at the spilled container on the ground as he stepped over it, coming face to face with Jehan and towering over him-- “is being good?”

Jehan scowled up at him. “Blow me.”

Tiefer snarled before grabbing Jehan by the front of his shirt and pulling him up on his tiptoes to meet his eyes. “I didn’t even ask for your fucking love--you’re your daddy’s son, I know better than to expect that,” Tiefer spat. “All I ask is that you fuckin’ fake it, do what I say, and be good, and so far you’re doin’ a piss-poor job.”

“So get rid of me then,” Jehan replied. “Oh wait, that’s right! You can’t. Because I’m your literal fucking meal ticket. So maybe you should do what I say and I say don’t leave me tied to a bed all goddamn day and then throw piss on my fucking head because you’re so goddamn insecure that the teenager you’ve been fucking for YEARS whose entire family you also fucking MURDERED didn’t MISS YOU!”

For a long moment, Tiefer didn’t say a word. And then, he laughed, his sharp teeth glinting. His very very sharp teeth. That were inches from his face.

Jehan felt his heart sink like a stone into his stomach.

“Oh Jehan…” He leaned in, his lips barely brushing Jehan’s. “I gotta say, it is exciting watchin’ you get all riled up like that, thinkin’ you’re hot shit. Makes me wanna rip open your throat while I fuck your little boy cunt ‘til it bleeds.”

“Wait--”

“In fact, I might just do that.”

“No!”

“No? You’re gonna tell me no?” Tiefer sneered and closed what little space was between them, kissing Jehan hard before shoving him onto the ground and standing over him. “You may be right -- I can’t get rid of you -- but I can make not only this month but the rest of your miserable fucking life a living hell if I so choose,” he said as he positioned his foot between Jehan’s legs, the heel of his boot pressing down on his crotch, “and you, my stupid little brat, you’re really helping me make that decision.”

Jehan gazed up at him from where he lay on the dirty floor, wincing at the press of Tiefer’s foot between his thighs. “I…” This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have let his anger get the better of him. He needed to salvage whatever he could. “I’m s--”

“Screwing yourself? Pretty fuckin’ badly yeah.”

“No, I’m s--”

“Stupid? Yes. Yes you are.”

“I’m sorry,” Jehan bit out.

“Couldn’t hear you from up here, brat. Say it again.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tiefer pressed down, harder. “Louder, you stupid piece of shit!”

“I’m sorry!”

“‘I’m sorry’ what?”

“I’m sorry sir!”

“And what are you sorry for?” Tiefer asked. Each word was punctuated by a slow grind of his boot.

“I’m sorry for not missing you--sir!” Jehan added with a pained squeak. “And I’m sorry for being a brat a-and being rude!”

“Hmm.” Tiefer stepped off of Jehan and slowly offered his hand.

Cautious, Jehan reached out and was pulled to his feet--too hard, even, until he was flush against Tiefer’s chest.

Tiefer kept his grip on Jehan. “So, how you gonna make this whole little tantrum up to me?”

“By...not doing it again?”

It had been worth a shot.

Laughing, Tiefer let Jehan go. “I don’t think that’ll cut it.” He looked Jehan up and down. “Nah, boy, I think you better get your ass into that bedroom ‘cause you might’ve wasted your dinner but I ain’t wastin’ mine.”

“You’re not gonna rip my throat open, are you?”

“Mmm, depends. How good you gonna be for me, baby?”

Jehan was silent under Tiefer’s gaze, adrenaline from his outburst beating against every bit of good sense that reminded him he needed to behave, to play the long game, to be good…

To play house.

Slowly, he stepped forward and, reaching out to put his arms around Tiefer’s neck, kissed his godfather, gentle and soft. His hands ghosted down Tiefer’s shoulders, his arms, stopping at his wrists as Jehan took him by the hand and lead him to the bedroom.

“Very,” he answered once they were beside the bed. Jehan stripped off what little clothing he still had on him and, turning around, sat on the bed delicately. “I’ll be very good for you,” he said, pulling Tiefer closer and adding, “Daddy.”

Tiefer’s eyes went wide and for a moment Jehan was afraid he’d gone too far and severely misjudged his godfather -- at least, taste-wise -- but then Tiefer composed himself, any shock quickly replaced with a snide grin and wicked gleam in his eyes as he tightened his grip on Jehan already flush against him and -- oh. Oh.

He hadn’t misjudged at all.

“Prove it, then, my little brat.”

****************************************

“Wait--wait, stop, please--parrain!”

Tiefer pulled away, blood reddened lips downturned in a frown. Jehan was stripped bare beneath him, his heaving chest and throat littered in bite marks and smeared blood; Tiefer had brought his hands down along Jehan’s behind, and in response Jehan yelped as if he had been burned.

“I’m still...hurting...down there.”

Something flashed in Tiefer’s eyes -- anger and insult, perhaps, at being denied.

Jehan quickly wrapped his arms around Tiefer’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss as a hot, wet apology. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised once he pulled away, breathing heavy, “if you’ll let me, daddy.”

Tiefer hummed something that sounded like assent enough and, much like a bored cat tolerating a favorite child moving it, allowed Jehan to roll them over until he was on his back and Jehan, naked and bloody and wincing, straddled his hips. There was drying blood on Tiefer’s lips and pinched boredom across his face, as if he was still largely put out and merely counting down the few moments of time Jehan’s slutty little whine of “daddy” had bought from him.

Reaching down, Jehan undid his godfather’s pants and gently pulled his hard cock out. He bit his lip, trying to keep his expression from turning to disgust as he spat in his hand and slowly stroked both himself and his godfather before leaning down, his hips against Tiefer’s, their cocks pressing together, hard and slick with spit and precum. It wasn’t awful, and the control was welcome (much better humping that huge cock than being split open on it) but the thought of another month like this, stinking of blood and sex in a decrepit shell of a house -- the thought of a lifetime of this, living at Tiefer’s whims, having to wear a mask over his festering anger, having to play a fake role to avoid his godfather’s brutal rages, having to be a son, a friend, a lover -- made his stomach turn.

The disgust must have shown on his face because Tiefer’s hands pressed heavily on his hips, keeping him still, his smaller cock trapped between Tiefer’s and his own belly.

“It must really hurt, baby, what with that face you’re makin’.”

“Oh.” Jehan sat back against Tiefer’s thighs. “Y-yeah.”

“Kinda hard to cum with you lookin’ ready to vomit all over me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better, I--”

“Scoot up,” Tiefer interrupted, lazily beckoning Jehan further and gesturing towards his chest.

Jehan did as he was told, situating himself on Tiefer’s chest, knees on either side of Tiefer’s head, and letting his godfather pull him forward until his cock pressed against blood stained lips.

“Good boy.” He took Jehan into his mouth, as far into his throat as the teenager’s length allowed, his hands warm and heavy on his hips, pulling him forward.

“Parrain--”

Tiefer hummed softly -- which earned a very startled jerk from Jehan -- and pulled away with a soft pop. “Go ‘head, fuck my mouth,” he said before kissing the head.

“Pa--”

“Do what Daddy says, Jehan.”

Jehan blushed. Tiefer had never told him to do that before -- hell, he’d actively punished him for accidentally thrusting into his mouth without permission -- and God, if he hadn’t thought about what it would be like, how fucking wonderful it would be to grab his godfather by the hair, nails digging in, and to abuse his throat, make him choke and gag until he vomitted all over himself, all the while pushing his cock down, fucking him harder and harder and harder --

“Fuck!”

At some point he had to have done it -- his vision was white, his hands were tangled in white, and white trickled down Tiefer’s chin from where it had escaped his lips, stretched around Jehan’s cock, mixing with the blood smeared on his face. Chest heaving, Jehan let go of Tiefer and fell back against him, his cock making an obscenely wet pop as he went.

Tiefer merely watched as if nothing had happened, despite his flushed cheeks, messy hair, and burning throat.

“When I said I’d make this nice for the both of us, I meant it,” he said, slowly. “An’ ain’t it nice?”

Jehan was slow to nod. “U-uh-huh…”

“You want it to keep bein’ nice?”

“Yes.” At the look Tiefer gave him, Jehan quickly amended his answer. “Yes sir.”

“Then be good for Daddy, Jehan,” Tiefer ordered. “Y’can start by returning the favor.”

And as Jehan leaned down and took his godfather in his mouth and felt a hand in his hair gripping tighter than it needed to be, he knew he wanted it to be nice because nice was the only way he’d be able to keep behaving, to keep being good -- to find a way out -- without losing his mind.

[arabellaflynn]

Text of a test monologue. Would you like to see me deliver this on camera, with no makeup, no lighting equipment, and using Notepad as a TelePrompTer? Head on over to my https://www.patreon.com/ArabellaFlynnPatreon, and for a dollar a month you too can see me waffle on in real time.

Hi, all. You may notice that I am on video now. I was going to shoot a couple of tests and apologize for the poor quality of the footage, and explain that I want to start vlogging and streaming in addition to writing, but I need some equipment to do it properly and for that I need to raise some funds... But fuck it. This is going out first instead.

As I record this, it is the fourth of July. You can probably hear the fireworks outside my window. I know I can. There are a lot of those, because we've all been inside and bored for the past four months. 

I know a lot of people who have opted not to observe the holiday this year. The 4th of July is often viewed as a celebration of the American institution, which is a little bit on fire right now, with a few people determined to squirt lighter fluid all over the flames like a bored suburban dad at a barbecue. On the other hand, it's also Independence Day, and marks the end of the long, painful process by which a population broke free of distant, uncaring overlords who cared mainly about the financial dividends of their colonies, and ignored the grievances of the people until they started breaking shit. So YMMV.

I would comment on some of the details, but I don't know them. The Late Show is on hiatus, and John Oliver doesn't air until tomorrow. I, like a lot of my demographic, get most of my current events from comedians. There's a reason for that.

I actually watched a lot of news as a teenager.

Well, "watched" might be too strong a word. It's easier for me to fall asleep if there's some sort of droning noise in the background. When I was about fifteen, I discovered that, unlike the main CNN channel, which has actual shows and documentaries, CNN Headline News just runs the day's top stories over and over again in an unending 30 minute loop. Interesting enough to keep me from falling into a train of thought that will prevent me from sleeping, boring enough that I don't want to stay up and listen.

I have no memory of the desk anchors. I'm sure they were consummate professionals, but they also had no distinguishing human characteristics whatsoever. I know they were updating the loop live, because occasionally a story would be added to the list and another one would drop off the back, and occasionally one would flub the text on their prompter, but other than that there was no hint that the face at the desk was attached to a living, breathing person.

I do remember a couple of the correspondents. One was Christiane Amanpour. Her voice stood out; CNN is an American news station that was originally restricted to American cable networks, and the vast majority of the staff is from the US. Amanpour is British-Iranian, having split her childhood between Tehran, before the revolution, and London, after. They liked to send her to the bowels of Eastern Europe to report from the war-torn streets of Citygrad in Countrystan. She had already caught some criticism on her reporting of the Bosnian War, for advancing the apparently controversial opinion that genocide was bad. I didn't know that at the time; I just thought she sounded more like she told real stories than read off lists of facts.

Another was Anderson Cooper, who was not nearly such a big deal then as he is now. Cooper, a self-described adrenaline junkie, was a war correspondent at the time, with a habit of ducking only briefly for explosions before standing back up to continue his piece to camera. He wouldn't be infamous until his coverage of Hurricane Katrina years later, both for the overall stellar job he did, and also for that one time he got tired of getting non-answers from some government toad in a live interview and very professionally flipped his shit at the lady, asking if she realized how tone deaf it was to sit there thanking other politicians for doing essentially nothing while there were still bodies in the street.

I quit watching the news when I moved away to college. It wasn't necessarily that knowing was worse than not knowing, but I felt a lot of pressure to be "adult" about it at that point, and watching proper news shows made me anxious to the point where I wouldn't sleep. I outright avoided it to the point where I made it to a canceled class at 4 pm, Mountain Standard Time, on September 11, 2001, before anyone told me what was going on.

I wasn't able to put my finger on why I found the news so horrible until many years later. I can't remember what rabbit hole I'd fallen down, but I ended up sitting on YouTube watching segments of the live news coverage of the 1981 assassination attempt on President Reagan. Reagan was shot in the side and later recovered without complications, but his Press Secretary, James Brady, was struck in the head and sustained considerable neurological damage. Brady, together with his wife Sarah, later went on to be a noted advocate for gun control, but at the time was reported to have died on the scene. 

I wound up watching a lot of one of the news desks -- ABC, I think. It started out like all the others, until the anchor tripped up a couple of times and referred to Press Secretary Brady as "Jim", and I realized: He knows these people. Personally. He's a member of the White House Press Corps, or a friend of the Bradys, or both. I'm watching a journalist reporting on a moment of historical significance to the American people, and a human being who has to tell the entire nation about someone's personal tragedy. His investment did not make him any less professional or informative than any of the others, but it did make his coverage feel very grounded in reality in a way that most news, then and now, does not.

The older I get, the more disquieting I find it to have a talking head behind a shiny desk read me a list of horrible things that have happened today without any apparent reaction. It makes it seem like these things are a randomized representative sample of the cruelty of the universe, rather than what they are, which is a list of things so unusually terrible they made the news. I realize that this is part of an effort to remain impartial so that the viewer can decide how they feel about events, but it's also disturbingly normative. Yes, everything is on fire, everything is always on fire, this is nothing new. 

I can't say I'm any more enamored of the opposite, either, the more recent style where the news anchor's entire job is to tell you that entirety of human existence is awful and here's what you should prioritize being afraid of this week. Everything around you is on fire, the fire is racing right at you, and here's whose fault the fire is.

A lot of Americans, especially younger ones, have taken to getting their news mostly from political satire because-- well, one, because for about the past twenty years, our comedians have been better at fact-checking than our actual newsrooms. You can thank Jon Stewart for getting a bee in his bonnet over that. But also because their coverage of major issues takes neither of those paths. The Daily Show alumni write up stories like they actually live on the planet they're reporting from. You're on fire? They're on fire too! Holy shit, let's all find some water! 

The conceit behind the comedy of The Daily Show and the Colbert Report and Full Frontal and Last Week Tonight and now the monologues on The Late Show is not that this is a normal amount of fire for everything to be on so it's fine, nor establishing that someone has set you on fire on purpose and here's who should be punished for it. It's bewilderment and frustration at the way we somehow keep catching on fire over and over again. Yeah, they crack jokes, because it's their job, but all the jokes are predicated on the idea that this is, above all, just very, very, inexplicably stupid. We can, and we should, be better than this. And the hosts stubbornly refuse to just give up and internalize as immutable all the reasons why we aren't.

You wouldn't know it to look at him, but Jon Stewart has accumulated "fuck you" money from his time on The Daily Show, among other things. I really hope the rest of them are doing the same. Because we need some figureheads who are able to say "fuck you" to a lot of authority figures right now without having to worry about how their family is going to survive the next month. John Oliver has HBO backing and I'm pretty sure Last Week Tonight has roughly equal budgets set aside for handling lawsuits and shoveling money at charity. Stephen Colbert has been insulting Donald Trump as hard as he possibly can since day one, and he just re-upped until 2023. Samantha Bee has her husband holding the camera to shoot her monologues out in the woods. 

They've all figured out how to produce their show over the internet, so at least we have something to watch in the After Times.

I really hope the neighbors run out of fireworks soon. Aside from not wanting the neighborhood to be literally on fire at any point, one of my housemates has a dog, and the dog has epilepsy, so this has been an interesting evening. Sorry about the fireworks, sorry about the camera, sorry about the country, sorry about the state of the world. Imma go find my Xanax. G'night.

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[romancenerd]

Kisses Not Intened

*Dont know what to use for a gif so blank for now*

A/N - *I wanted to make at least one more fanfic before the year was over. Very very very extremely long time ago I was asked to write this when i posted a prompt list 9 decades ago and I’ve been lacking in the fanfic department. This was supposed to be a Christmas present but consider this a new year present. So this fanfic is for @nitia95​ thank you so much for requesting this i serioisuly enjoyed writing this the fluff and just everything. Like i love Azusa so very much when i got stuck i didn’t want to force it out of me so this is all for you girl happy new year and thank you for being an amazing tumblr friend and big supporter of my blog!*

Also I don’t feel like proof reading or editing in the moment so please ignore grammar and punctuation until i fix it tomorrow also I’m going to change the title I just don’t know what to call it comment below some good titles please and thank you. So I’m going to shut up and let you all read now.

Liz was rapidly running through the streets of new york. Pausing to catch her breath at a crosswalk she checked her watch to see she only had 5 minutes to get to school before she was marked tardy.

She mentally cursed. The power in her building had went off last night and thank God she woke up when she did or she would have missed first period.

Even if it did only leave her 25 minutes to brush her teeth, hair, get dressed, and shove a granola bar and apple in her bag.

She continued running and glanced down to check her watch and collided head on something.

“Why don’t you watch where you're going.” A deep voice called to her.

She shook her head and glanced up at the dark haired stranger meeting his piercing sapphire gaze.

Rolling her eyes she pursed her lips and try to keep her anger in check, and sarcastically replied.

“Oh I'm so sorry! I'll try to watch where I'm going!” Using air quotes. She began to walk away. And at the same time they both made quite comments which they thought would fall upon deaf ears but would not be the case.

“Morron.”

“Asshole.”

Both of them faced each other with nasty looks.

“Do you have a problem with me or something?” Liz said

“No but I'm not the one crashing into people am I?”

“Yeah let's keep acting like it was my fault, I'm not the one walking in the middle of the street with my face glued to a map, so who wasn't really paying attention here.”

“ Well your -.”

“Listen I don't have time to argue with you, some of us have places to be.” Liz interrupted

And with that last statement Liz stormed off in the opposite direction  slinging her bag over her shoulder with the stranger staring at the back of her head.

•••••••••••

Liz let out a long sign all while rubbing her eyes. She pushed the hair out of her face and grabbed the stack of textbooks near her and proceeded to her next class.

Professor Goldstein had given her extra work due to her tardiness to class this morning.

It was all that jerks fault this morning. What's his problem, she thought. I mean he was really cute but still he didn’t need to be a jerk about it.

As she walked through the halls of the university she was greeted with smiles and friendly waves. Second period was always her favorite class. Zoology. She loved animals more than anything.

That's why she decided to go to college and pursue a career in veterinary medicine. To help care and heal animals.

•••••••••••

Finally third period had arrived and she made her way to her usual spot in the classroom and waited for class to start she was a little earlier than usual than normal and people had yet to arrive.

Once the class started filling up and the bell rang, Professor Schular made an announcement. Not paying any mind, Liz leaned down and began collection and pulling her books out of her bag. When she popped back up she couldn't believe what her eyes were seeing.

“We have a new transfer student joining us today, I would all like you to welcome Azusa Kuze.” Proffesor Schuler spoke

Whispers and gasps suddenly filled the classroom.

“He’s so hot!”

“I think I'm going faint.”

“That jawline!”

Liz however was stunned and went his gaze meet hers her heart skipped a beat.

“Now.” The professor spoke. “ Where to put you ….”

Please not by me please not by me. Liz spoke over and over again in here head.

“ You can have a seat next to Ms. Hart .”

Liz felt her eyes go wide and her blood boil. She clenched her fist under the desk so hard she was positive they were turning white.

How ever he walked all the way to her table in the back of the room with a smile on his face and sat down.

“Well, well, well we meet again.

There staring at her with a sarcastic smile was none other than the blockhead she ran into earlier.

“It would appear so.” Liz said unamused.

She faced forward and began taking notes trying to completely forgetting his existence.

••••••••••••

Once class was over she got up and immediately collected her belongings.

“Hold on a minute.”

“What?”

“I was wondering if you knew where room B213 would be.”

Liz paused momentarily and swallowed the lump in her throat to speak. He handed her the paper and she saw that she had ever single class with him but her first 2.

Great. She thought

“Well according to this schedule apparently starting now we have every single class together.”

Liz tried as hard as she could to keep from sounding irritated.

He smiled sarcastically. She knew that he was getting a kick out of this.

“So I could just follow you for the day correct?”

She stared at him for the longest time and finally spoke.

“Fine, lets go before were late.”

••••••••••••

Today was a day off from school. Liz found herself in cute and cozy coffee shop 2 blocks from her apartment.

She sat with her legs crossed on a bean bag re-reading her favorite novel for the hundredth time.

Yesterday had been Friday and showing that jerk around while he smirked and teased her at every little thing she did.

She was glad it was the weekend now. Setting her book down and taking a quick sip of tea. She slowly inhaled in and out to calm her nerves.

Getting comfortable again, she grabbed her book and picked up where she left off.

The door to the coffee shop opened letting the crisp slightly chilly air into the room. Trying to ignore any and all distractions as best as she could until.

“Loving you was breathing but that breath disappearing before it filled my lungs.”

Liz suddenly looked up to find Azusa towering above her with a calm expression on his face.

“You know the sun and her flowers.”

Azusa suddenly smirked down at her.

“If were being honest here its it's a favorite of mine.” Azusa said chucking.

“Mine too.”

“Really?”

“Really really.” Liz smiled slightly than smirked.

“So even jerks have good literature taste.”

“Life is full of surprises.” Azusa said sitting down in the bean bag next to her putting his arms behind his head

“Tell me about it.” Liz said with her lips pursed. “So do you have anything better to do than stalk me all day and night.”

“You honestly think I give a damn about what your doing every single moment.”

“Clearly you seem to.” Azusa rolled his eyes at her comment and chuckled.

“Maybe I don't maybe I do, who's to say.” He teased

“You are a serious pain in my ass I swear.” Liz then stood up slamming her book shut and grabbed her coffee and purse.

“Where are you going.”

“To enjoy the rest of my day in peace thank you.”

Liz then left the shop leaving Azusa by himself. He simply stared at the door she walked out of with mixed thoughts. He let out a soft sigh and feel back into the bean bag wondering what in the world he was going to do.

“No no no.” Liz rested her head on the steering wheel as the engine started smoking. She was on her way home from the coffee shop when her car starting acting up and died on her.

Getting out and popping the hood she began to cough from all the smoke.

“This is just perfect what else can go wrong?! “ She screamed when the sky rumbled and a heavy downpour was upon her.

“Great what luck. Closing the hood she sat down and brought he knees to her chest. She was still a good 40 minutes away from home.

After several moments the rain upon her finally stopped even though the sound could still be heard. Lifting her head she was met by black jean’s and a white t shirt. Furthering her gaze upwards she was met with sapphire eyes.

“Get in my car and I'll drive you home.”

“You don -”

“Shut up get in the car and don't argue with me.” Azusa sternly said.

Liz knew he was trying to be nice. Maybe trying to make up for being such an asshole these past couple of weeks. Sliding off the hood she stood underneath the umbrella with him. He pulled her close wrapping his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the passenger side.

She never really looked at him before but up close she could see what the other girls were talking about. Liz wasn't going to like he was handsome. Like some guy from a fairytale or a dream.

After Azusa helped her into the passenger side and closed the door all Liz could think was if this was a fairytale. Azusa coming to her aid like a knight in shining armor. Or perhaps she was at home in bed sleeping through the rain. This is probably a dream she reassured herself.

But if it was then why was Azusa in it? She thought to herself as Azusa got in and began to drive.

“Where do you live?”

“In the Reitz apartments.”

“Really?” He laughed

“Yeah what's so funny.”

“I live 2 buildings over.”

“Seriously?” She grumbled

“Seriously, it's a small world you and I live in.”

“A little too small if you ask me.” Suddenly Azusa bursted into laughter. The way he smiled made her heart flutter.

What's the matter with me she thought. Liz sat in silence for the rest of the ride trying to figure out the strange dream out.

Liz wondered how far her dream would go. How long it would last.

“Were here.”He suddenly announced pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Oh.” She said a little disappointed. “Well thank you for the ride I'll be sure to give you money for gas next time I run into you. It's a small world so you shouldn't have to wait long.”

Azusa snorted and suddenly locked the doors when Liz tried to get out. She curiously looked at him, he dream kept getting stranger by the second.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure I guess.” Liz said settling back into her seat.

They sat in silence for a moment before Azusa blurted out. “Do you hate me?”

Taken by surprise Liz looked up at him to find him staring out the window. It took her a moment to answer but when she did.

“No I don't hate you.” Azusa suddenly turned his head towards hers.

“You don't.”

“No not at all. I think your a sarcastic asshole but who isn’t.” She said smiling.

Liz wondered why her subconscious would create such a dream unless. . .

Liz was pulled out her thoughts when Azusa's face got closer to hers. She suddenly forgot how to think. His face got closer until she could feel his breath on her lips.

Azusa then leaned forward a little as their lips brushed together in a soft and delicate kiss. Her heart seizes up and fluttered from the contact. He slightly pulled away and whispered.

“I'm sorry I didn't intend on kissing you.”

She slowly looked up into his eyes. Realizing this was reality. This was the real Azusa in front of her and that was a real, and that what her heart was telling her was real too.

Looking down and gently brushing her fingers across his cheek and returning to his gaze she whispered.

“I’m sorry I didn't intend on falling in love with you.”

Azusa suddenly smiled. “ Well I did intend on falling in love with you.”

Liz smiled back at him and he leaned forward and kissed her again. Its was slightly more passionate than the first.

The only sounds that could be heard were the drops of rain against the car and the sound of their lips meeting in heated breathless kisses.

[overly-affectionate-animatronics]

Endings and Beginnings

DISCLAIMER:  This story was written back in 2015 before FNAF 4 came out.  If canon divergence doesn’t bother you, it’s still a fun read.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Title:  Endings and Beginnings Part:  1/1 Author:  Murasaki Rose Beta:  none Genre:  Horror Rating:  PG Spoilers:  Minor ones for first and second games. Warnings:  dark themes Pairings:  None

Disclaimer:  Here we go...Five Nights at Freddy's and all related characters are the property/creation of Scott Cawthon.   In other words, they aren't mine and I'm not making any money off of this, I'm just a fangirl having some fun.

Author's Note:  Short prequel to - Ashes, Ashes, They All Fall Down but can be read by itself.

Flames will be used to keep me warm while I write and will only serve to make me more determined to continue.  (They may also cause me to break out in bouts of maniacal laughter.)  Soooo......come at me bro.

Summary:  After witnessing so much tragedy and death, with a little help Phone Guy finally decides it's time to leave Freddy Fazbear's for good.  His boss asks him for one more week, time enough to find a new night guard, should be a breeze right?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Stepping into the dimly lit Parts and Service room, the slim figure of the young security manager walked over to where the original animatronics lay and stared sadly down at them.  Today mechanics were dismantling the Toys down to the very last nut and bolt before they wiped the hard drives clean.  As far as the company was concerned the flawed and buggy facial recognition programming was too dangerous to ever be used again.  Then tomorrow he'd be over-seeing the sealing of the safe room along with the Spring Bonnie suit and its' new permanent "resident".

At least the old animatronics would survive.  His childhood friends would live again, fully restored and updated in time for the remodeling to be complete...but the company could never fully wipe away this tragedy.  Five children.  Children they were supposed to entertain and protect...

"I'm sorry.  It's all my fault.  If I'd just payed attention....the Toys weren't malfunctioning, not in the beginning.  They knew.  Somehow they knew and I put him right where he wanted to be!"  Uttering a hoarse cry, he punched the wall, tears streaming down his face.  He would never forgive himself.

Unseen, the spirit of his young friend, the first and oldest child to go missing, appeared behind him.  "It's not your fault!  He tricked you like he tricked us!"  Wrapping his arms around the guard's waist, he rested his head on the older boy's back.  "Please don't cry."

Wiping the tears from his face, he turned back to the old animatronics, "the restaurant is going to re-open but I-I ah, don't know if I'll be coming back."

A sharp spike of fear lanced through the twelve year-old spirit, he was leaving?   Desperate, he clung tighter to the older boy, so tight his "body" dissipated and suddenly he was wrapped around the other's very mind and soul.  'Don't leave us alone...don't leave me.'

'Who?'

'It's me.  It's me.  It's me.  It's me.  It's me.  It's me.   It's me.'  the spirit chanted over and over, even as his grip loosened and he was forced from the other's body.

Dizzy from the near-possession, the young guard staggered forward, just barely catching himself on a wall as his body lurched violently to one side.  He felt like he'd just gotten off a five hour ride on a mega loop rollercoaster.

"Are you all right?"  His world spun again as he tried to focus on the approaching figure of Jeremy Fitzgerald.

"I-" he stumbled forward and had it not been for the other guard's quick reflexes he'd have crashed face-first on the floor.

"Good thing I came looking for you, huh?"

Feeling his world finally stop spinning, he gave the other man a quizzical look," How'd you know I'd be here?"

"I believe somebody once mentioned that he liked the old animatronics better..."

"Oh, y-yeah," blushing in embarrassment, the slightly older guard pulled away and under Jeremy's watchful eye stood on his own.  Nodding his thanks he headed for the door, Jeremy close behind.  The other guard didn't want to stay around the broken and dismantled bots any longer than he had to.

Honestly, Jeremy never even wanted to set foot in this place again.  It was only for his own piece of mind that he had come to watch the Toys being dismantled.  After what he had seen this week, he needed to know those things would never move again before he could even consider getting a decent night's sleep anytime soon.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Look at what that place has done to you!  You're not even thirty and you've got gray hair and stress lines that belong on a man twice your age!" his friend and longtime roommate lectured, holding up his girlfriend's hand mirror to the guard's face to emphasize his point.

"Has it really been ten years?"

The other man sighed and put the mirror down.  "It's not too late to start over.  Stop punishing yourself for something that wasn't your fault," his friend fixed him with a glare that promised fierce retribution if he tried to disagree.

Shoulders slumping forward, the guard sighed heavily.  "I'll do it."

Still not entirely convinced, his friend handed him the phone, "call your boss now."

"I should really tell him in person-"

"Like you did the last time?  Or the time before that?  No way man.  Everytime you go in that building to quit, you change your mind and it's months before you'll listen to reason again.  No, you are gonna call him now and quit right where I can hear you do it."

Another sigh.  "Fine."  As much as he hated to admit it, his friend was right.

Dialing up his boss' home, he felt a knot forming in his stomach with every ring.   It only took a couple rings before the line picked up and he began talking immediately before he could lose his nerve.  "Ah, hello, hello! Uh sir, I ah- I......I quit."

"It's about damn time."

"What?"  Well that wasn't the reaction he'd expected.

He heard his boss sigh on the other end.  "I wondered when you'd finally get fed up with all this crap and go.  Just do me a favor and give me a week to get your replacement.  You've done night shift long enough, you can record some kind of, I don't know, training messages for the new guy okay?"

"Sure.  I can do that."  He'd done some for the spring suits back when he was a new employee and later when the suits were retired, so it shouldn't be a problem.  "You're ah, taking this...kinda well sir."

"No one can be as selfless as you for that long without reaching their limit.  You've gone through more for this place than it deserves."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He'd have to be careful with his recording, if he came on too strong, the new guy might think he was crazy and cut the recording too early.  But if he was too vague, then that would be a disaster too.  'I wish the boss had let me do these when he tried to switch me back to days-'  Taking a quick drink from a water bottle he shook the thought from his head, there was no sense wishing for things in the past.  All he could do now was move forward.  Clearing his throat, he pressed the record button and began...

x-x-x-x

"He's leaving?!" the spirits cried, their voices filled with shock and fear.

The Marionette nodded, "wIlL yOu KeEp HiM oR WiLl YoU lEt HiM gO?"

"He's always been here."  Foxy.

"He's the only one we can trust."  Bonnie.

"He promised to keep us safe."  Chica.

"He's not allowed to leave."  Freddy.

"I won't lose him now.  He's MINE."  Golden Freddy.

x-x-x-x

Flashing images of a black-eyed Bonnie, a human-eyed Freddy, and an eyeless Golden Freddy suddenly flashed across the tablet screen, the words "IT'S ME." popping up before, inbetween, and after each image.  The sound of pounding footsteps on his left, a feeling of being watched on the right, before the thought was even finished he'd pressed both door buttons.  Checking the right-side light he found Chica staring at him through the window while Foxy banged on the left door.

Determined, he settled back into the chair and flicked through the cameras with the ease of familiarity.  "I will get out of here.  I'm finally going to move on with my life."

Mocking laughter echoed through the tiny room.  Unseen, a spectral form clad in purple hissed in his ear, "YOU CAN'T."

-

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

May 12, 2015

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Aaaand we all know how this ends...three nights later.

Once again, if you haven't read Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down then now's a great time to do it and if you like that one, then move on to the sequel, Full Circle.

[whats-sith]

Stress writing

For some reason I’m incapable of cultivating healthy writing (and living) habits. My anxiety has returned with a vengeance, thanks to the growing mountain of RL issues I try to forget and deal with later... So. Stress writing. It works better than whisky, but it also led to more anxiety because I almost got no sleep this night, I still need to hand in 5 pages of lesson outline by 7pm (in less than eight hours) and then I still have to do the preparations I could have finished at any time these past two weeks of holidays.

Here be fic. Written on no sleep, too much alcohol and no fucks left to give. Not betaed, probably a bit wonky. Not finished by far.

Might edit later (after I finish part two).

Skywalker is late. Of-fripping-course he is. Probably got lost while trying to disentangle himself from the thousands of layers of gauzy fabric that make up Senator Amidala's formidable skirts.

Mace tries very hard not to glare at the off-white spot of re-touched wall he has been staring at for the better part of an hour now. The wall is not at fault here. Neither is the green troll-like creature who currently occupies the single bunk this Force-forsaken cell has to offer.

Well. Maybe Yoda is partly at fault. After all, it was he who decided on this meeting. And this particular location.

Come to think of it, maybe Master Yoda is indeed the one mostly to blame for the current situation. And Qui-Gon Jinn, of course. Can't forget him.

At this epiphany, Mace decides to direct his not-glare at the only present (and living) source of his frustrations. Who appears to be meditating. Great.

"Look older than your old Master you will, if stuck this face becomes."

Only decades of practice since the cutting of his braid prevent Mace from smoothing his features into a mask of serenity as a reflex to the verbal jab. Instead he makes an effort to deepen his frown.

"Skywalker is late. And this place is vile." That alone should be justification enough.

"Hrmph." Master Yoda deigns to lift one eyelid to glance at the door that they left slightly ajar upon entering. "Unknown to most, this place is. Hard to find. Meant to keep in evil and meant to keep out the Force. Arrive soon, young Skywalker will."

Mace just wishes that "soon" was ten minutes ago.

He, as Master of the Order, has of course known about the existence of these cells. Built over a thousand years ago during the last Sith Wars, their purpose is to hold the most powerful darkside users. They are designed in a way that not only keeps prisoners from breaking out, but also ensures that nobody can assist a break-out attempt from the outside. In short, there is no way of using the Force from either the inside or the outside of this cell once the door is closed.

Considering that no-one (except Skywalker) knows where they are at the moment, this isn't exactly a comforting thought.

However, the reason Master Yoda had to choose this cell for a meeting far outweighs any feelings of discomfort Mace might have about the place and so he tries to distract himself with conversation.

"You are really sure that we should go through with it?"

"Doubtful of the information you still are?" Master Yoda finally opens his eyes and smirks. The audacity. "Thought that one proof would be enough I did."

"It is enough proof," Mace hastily says. He tries very hard not to think of that… proof. "I'm just not sure if this is really the right course of action in the light of this revelation…"

"Clouded by the darkside, the Force is. Sure we cannot be. Trust in young Skywalker, we must now."

Easier said than done, Mace thinks. He is the first to admit that he and Skywalker usually do not see eye to eye. About following commands. About showing the proper respect to your elders. About the appropriate amount of Muja sauce to douse your breakfast waffles with. About the Code.

Still, until last night, when Yoda roused him to reveal to him all that he had learnt, Mace Windu would never have thought twice about trusting Skywalker with his life - or the future of the Order.

Skywalker may often be rash and too emotional, but that is not unusual for young knights who constantly feel they have to prove something. If Mace is somewhat antagonistic towards Skywalker, it is because he believes that the man is a damn fine Jedi. A damn fine Jedi with the potential to maybe become the greatest Jedi the Order has seen in a very long time. Maybe he should have shown him…

"Masters?"

And there arrives the subject of Mace's musings. He's almost an hour late. At least he looks somewhat apologetic.

"Apologies for being late, Masters. I was not sure I got the right place so I turned back twice. They weren't big on numbering the corridors down here, were they." He explains sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. There is a suspicious reddish streak peeking out of his collar. As usual, Mace determinedly does not take notice.

"Come in, Skywalker. I'd offer to take a seat, but I'm afraid that furnishings are rather sparse."

Skywalker gives the cell a cursory sweep with his gaze and doesn't even try to conceal how decidedly unimpressed he is with their choice of meeting place. Mace cannot blame him.

"What is this place?" He finally asks.

Look around and take a guess, Mace wants to say. He doesn't. Yoda only let him come because he promised not to provoke Skywalker. If they believe what Qui-Gon had to say, alienating the Chosen One is what they must try to prevent and not further encourage by their actions - or their in-action.

"The Order used these cells in the last great war against the Sith. They are completely cut-off from the Force. No-one can access the Force from inside here and no-one from the outside can sense what happens in here."

"Then why are we meeting here of all places?" Skywalker's narrows his eyes and fixes Mace with a stare. "And where are the other Masters of the Council? Why isn't Obi-Wan here? He is on-planet at the moment."

Trust Skywalker to open with the easy questions. Why can't he ever just first listen to what they have to say before he starts to question their motives? Mace breaks the stare and looks pointedly at Yoda. His plan - his turn for explanations. Mace sure as hell has no idea how to answer these questions in a nice and appeasing manner.

Apparently, neither does Master Yoda, because the next words out of his mouth are: "Know of this meeting, Master Kenobi must not. Important it is that he remains in the dark."

Following the Grandmaster's words, for the briefest moment, the Force flares up with Skywalker's distrust, sour and suffocating. In here, they are cut off from the outside world, so it feels like all that exists in the Force is the three of them. This must be the only reason why this briefest slip of Skywalker's shields let them get a clear read of his feelings. It's disconcerting to think that the Chosen One can harbour such negative feelings towards them. All the more considering what Qui-Gon has revealed to Master Yoda.

"Calm yourself, young Skywalker," Yoda continues without missing a beat.

"Contacted I was by a former student of mine. Some important information I have learned, about the Sith Master and his plans…"

"I'm sorry, Master Kenobi, but there really is no more paperwork." The Padawan behind the counter manages to look both apprehensive and apologetic at the same time. Obi-Wan still isn't convinced.

"How can there be no more paperwork? I have been away from the temple for almost three whole months. The backlog-"

"Be assured that all is in order, Master Kenobi." Madame Nu's  familiar voice interrupts suddenly from behind. "There have been some changes in administration recently, to increase efficiency and offer relief to desperately overworked Generals. So far, the results are compelling."

She glides next to the Padawan and checks the datapad of requisition notes and inventory logs that Obi-Wan has wanted to swap for a new one.  "Like I said, all seems to be in order. No need to frighten Padawan Badel any more than necessary. Good day, Master Kenobi. Enjoy your free time."  

Obi-Wan steps out of the archives and does not know what to do with himself. He has planned to spend the afternoon doing paperwork before he Council's evening session and then fall into bed. Tomorrow he was going to check on the progress of the repairs on the Negotiator and then repeat the cycle of paperwork, Council and sleep.

Meeting with Anakin for a bit of sparring and catching up has been on his agenda as well, until Anakin had to leave on an impromptu solo-mission to the Mid-Rim early this morning. The mission was only supposed to last three days at the most, but Obi-Wan would most likely already be gone when Anakin returned.

It really can't be helped. Duty always comes before pleasure. Maybe they would manage to see each other the next time they are both planet side.

Once there was a time when Obi-Wan looked forward to shore-leave on Coruscant. Shore-leave for his men, that is. Council-duties and paperwork usually keep his schedule sufficiently busy, but sometimes there is time for a friendly sparring match, a trip to the archives that is strictly for leisure -research can be fun, Anakin, thank you very much- taking a moment to watch the antics of their Padawan with her agemates or having a pleasant meal together at Dex's. On some rare occasions, he even managed a live holo-call to Mandalore over a secure connection.

Now though, there is nobody left on Mandalore to wait for his call. Nobody to scold him for the tardiness of his replies, to tease him about the scruffiness of his beard, to smile at him as they reminisce about simpler times long gone.

Now, when he steps into the Padawans' training salle, it always takes a moment for his eyes to finish their futile sweep for blue and white montrals and a pair of green sabres until his brain catches up and he remembers that Ahsoka won't be there anymore.

Now, the most he sees of Anakin is during joint missions between the 501st and the 212th. When they are both planet-side at the same time, Anakin prefers to spend his time away from the temple. Of course Obi-Wan knows to whomwhere Anakin goes in his free time (he doubts that there is anyone on Coruscant with functioning eyesight who doesn't) and he doesn't begrudge Anakin that bit of happiness.

And it's not as if they don't see each other at all - sometimes they manage to squeeze in a sparring match between debriefings or a late shared meal in their quarters - but spending time together used to be a given, a casual closeness without need of arrangements in advance… now all their meetings on temple grounds outside the training salle are characterised by an awkward stiffness, both of them trying to recreate their former closeness, but not knowing how to go about it.

It's not the Jedi way to regret or to wonder 'what if'. Still, in moments like this, when Obi-Wan can't help but miss the closeness he once shared with his former Padawan, he wonders if things might be different if he had never agreed to the Rako Hardeen mission. Or if he had allowed Anakin to accompany him to Mandalore. Or if he had done more to protect Ahsoka, to convince her to stay.

He only realises the depth of his melancholy musings when he sees where his feet have carried him without his explicit command. The hangar isn't usually a place where he spends any of his freetime, if he can help it. This is Anakin's territory.

Well- Obi-Wan might not be a genius at engineering like Anakin, but he is a passable mechanic. Spending the afternoon to do some basic maintenance on his own star fighter isn't such a bad idea.

Anakin's star fighter next to his own is expectedly missing. What is unexpected, however, is the sight of a familiar white and blue astromech standing in its place.

"Artoo?" At the call of his name, the droid swivels around. "Has Anakin left you here?"

Obi-Wan cannot understand binary, but the beeps and trills that answer his questions are sufficiently outraged that no translation is needed. It also catches the attention of every sentient within 200 feet.

"There is something wrong with his thrusters," calls one of the maintenance workers, a Weequay wearing the grey uniform of Temple ground personnel, from out of a half-dismantled cockpit. "Skywalker wanted to fix them as soon as he's back."

That explains it. When it comes to his droids, Anakin doesn't like to take risks. Were it that Anakin held his own life in similar regard.

He bends down and pats Artoo's dome. "Come on, Artoo. How about you help me do some maintenance? I might even spring an oil bath as a reward."

The droid humms and hawwws and finally beeps something unenthusiastic that Obi-Wan interprets as a 'Fine then.' He allows himself a fond smile. Artoo might be exasperating at times, but he can't deny that the little droid starts to grow on him.

From one moments to the next, the world ends.

Later the Healers will tell him that he just collapsed on his way from the hangar back to the apartment. He knows it is not the whole truth.

At the spot where it happened, two of the giant stained glass windows are completely blown out and one of the columns has to be reinforced due to its structural integrity being compromised.

All he can remember is feeling an instance of intense dread, reaching out to Anakin through their bond in confusion and then, pain.

Obi-Wan has read many descriptions of the excruciating pain that comes with the spontaneous severing of a Force-bond. He has also a lot of first-hand experience as the subject of many different, often quite creative torture techniques.

Neither the books, nor the torture could have ever prepared him for the reality of living through a torn bond.

After the pain comes the darkness and then the sterile white of the Halls of healing.

Master Yoda is there when he wakes that first time to a world without Anakin Skywalker. He doesn't have to say anything. Obi-Wan knows without a doubt that Anakin is dead. Their bond is gone and in its place, nothing. Physical wounds at least leave a scar, but when Obi-Wan reaches inside of himself to all the places that Anakin used to be, there is nothing left of him. The realisation leaves him numb.

Obi-Wan tries to keep is eyes on the ceiling. He cannot look Yoda in the eye.

Not yet.

"How?" he manages to croak. His voice sounds as if he had swallowed a bucket of sand. His vocal chords are on fire. Strange that he hasn't noticed before… did he scream?

"A malfunction in the hyperspace ring. Trigger an explosion it did, the moment he left hyperspace."

"Sabotage?" The ceiling is very white. Like all of the halls of Healing. Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan sees Yoda shaking his head.

"An accident it was. Certain that is."

Anakin dying - not on a battlefield with a lightsaber in hand, Obi-Wan at his side- but alone in space because of mechanical failure? That can't be right… Anakin is the Chosen One. He cannot just be gone because of an accident.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes against all that whiteness. He lets out the breath he hasn't realised he's holding. Now the outside is dark again. Like the inside. With Anakin's light gone, all the world is very dark. Everything matches.

Funny that.

"Strong your bond was." He hears Yoda say from somewhere on the left of the outside-darkness. "Strong your attachment."

It's a statement, not a reprimand, but still Obi-Wan feels like a failure. His attachments have always been his greatest weakness. Not that there are very many left now.

He has the feeling that Master Yoda wants to say more, but after a while he hears him get up and leave the room.

tbc...

next up: the “funeral” of Anakin Skywalker, some explanations about what the hell is going on, lots and lots of Obi-Wan angsting and having chats with the Chancellor