#all I’m saying is a lot of you exactly act like your worst auntie and you aren’t ready for that conversation.

[sundaywonder]

the lost song : yoonmin

Getting ready to start fresh in life, physical education professor Park Jimin is just waiting to migrate to Australia with his daughter and girlfriend. Everything gets topsy-turvy when world-class music producer Min Yoongi—and also his secret ex-boyfriend—comes back home to South Korea to marry his it-girl fiancé. If that wasn’t bad enough for Jimin, Yoongi invites him to the wedding. It gets worse; it leaves him no choice but accept it to avoid spilling the beans.

Although the worst happened back then, it’s not enough for their forsaken what-ifs and unsaid feelings from making itself clear. The situation makes Jimin realize how jaded he was without Yoongi all the years they were apart—and vice versa. As they slowly pick up the broken pieces of the past, reality hits hard back at them again. There are two choices: to give up on love and live in the present or to run away and never look back.

Genre: Romance, Adult Fiction, Melodrama, Erotica

Fandom: BTS, BLACKPINK, Red Velvet, IU

Pairing: Suga & Jimin, Jimin & Rosé, Suga & Jennie, IU & Jungkook, Wendy & j-hope

Rating: M or R-18 — contains sensitive themes, strong language and graphic depiction of sexual activity

Status: Ongoing — 6/12

Link: Wattpad, ao3

Excerpt: The Flower Bloomed — 10 Years Ago

Yoongi, 20

I hurriedly go down the stairs while vigorously drying my head with a towel. I knew I would oversleep. Aside from being a deep sleeper, I’m also not used to waking up as early as 7 a.m. Nine is still pretty early if you’d ask me. The cool air last night made everything even worse. I shouldn’t have opened the windows.

Good thing my grandma heard Aunt Hyeja yelling outside our house. If she didn’t, I wouldn’t have even noticed that her and our other neighbors’ missed calls and text messages.

“Make sure none of the kids get injured, okay? We don’t have money for their hospital bills if ever,” reminds grandma as she followed me down. I don’t hear and comprehend what she said until five seconds later.

“Got it. Bye.” When I get out of our gate, I immediately see Aunt Hyeja who was waiting for me outside.

“We’ll get going, Auntie Dooshim!” exclaims Aunt Hyeja.

“Alright, have a safe trip!”

“I’m so sorry, Auntie. I really am.” She walks so briskly that I have a hard time catching up with her. Regardless, I feel like that’s how should it be; I must walk maybe two or three steps behind her after what I’ve done.

“Don’t think about it anymore. The kids are already in there. You know our numbers so contact us immediately if anything goes wrong. There’s a ton of food on the table so feed yourselves when you get hungry. Don’t leave at least one of them unattended. Never attend to the gate if it’s a stranger and refrain from telling them that an adult is not present—oh, how old are you again?”

“Twenty.”

“My bad. It slipped my mind that you’re already an adult. Anyway, did you understand everything clearly?” I just nod. Aunt Hyeja doesn’t seem to be mad but it’s fairly obvious that she’s already dying to leave. I discreetly peek at her watch which says 7:15 a.m. I can’t help but shake my head. I reminded myself endless times to do well in this babysitting gig but I still ended up ruining the first thing about it. There must be something really wrong with me.

After arriving in front of the home of my best friends, brothers Seokjin and Taehyung, she tells me, “Also, your Aunt Misun told me that Jimin won’t be able to attend the excursion because he’s sick. He’s going to be home alone today so I told him that he can contact you if he needs anything.”

I gulped as soon as I heard Jimin’s name and forced myself to act nonchalant. “W-what happened to him?” It was definitely hard to do so.

“He has fever,” she replied. “Don’t you guys get more written projects in lieu of not attending out-of-the-classroom activities?”

“Yes.”

“So, does it mean you like completing paperworks instead of attending trips and such?” I just let out a fake chuckle and nodded. I’m sure it wouldn’t sit with her when I say that I don’t like socializing and going to places with a lot of people. Aunt Hyeja is a social butterfly and—I don’t want to sound like I’m judging her (but maybe I am)—she’s not exactly the type of person to bother understand things deeper if it doesn’t concern her. Besides, it’s lengthy and we’re not that close for me to open up to her. An awkward giggle is probably better than an explanation.

The Kims already left when I entered and all the four kids were sleeping on the sofa in the living room, not even noticing my entrance. I decide to just sit on the floor and watch TV in low volume. My body is asking for me to sleep so badly that pinching myself isn’t working anymore. A faint regret is starting to form in my chest but I cut it out immediately.

After getting bored of the morning makjang drama that I forced myself to watch, I turn around to check on them. Jingoo—a cousin of Seokjin and Taehyung, as well as Namjoon who is also a cousin of the two—is already up but still lying on his stomach while silently watching the drama with me. Our eyes meet but he doesn’t say a word and just shifts his eyes back at the screen.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” I ask. Jingoo just nods. “What did you eat?”

“Seaweed rice balls and jeon.”

“Tell me when you’re hungry.” He just nods once again.

Our conversation awakens Taejoon, Chanbin and Yeongyu. Unlike Jingoo, they wanted to eat so I prepared the food that was left for us. Being alone with these kids who I barely know suddenly makes me feel weird for some reason. It’s probably because I don’t have any experience in babysitting. So far, it’s an alright deal. The money is good and you practically get paid to stay at home.

I leave them and go back to the living room, sitting beside Jingoo’s feet who hasn’t moved an inch ever since he woke up. “Where did they go?” He asks, not moving his eyes from the screen.

“A trip.”

“Event aunt and uncle? I thought it was a school trip.”

I let out a sigh and close my eyes. Some sort of hot energy constantly forms in my head the longer I talk to this kid.  “I don’t know why. Ask them when they come back later.”

It got rowdy when they started to play. This is way worse than I imagined. Toy cars and guns are all over the place and I need to remind them every two to three minutes that they shouldn’t be shooting bullets on the TV screen, as well as the vases and figurines. None of my words seem to get to their tiny heads.

I take back what I said. I don’t want to this ever again. I wasn’t like this when I was a kid. Even my friends. We weren’t anything like this. Not even close. We were well-liked by the neighborhood in general because of that.

Out of the blue, my phone suddenly vibrated. My heart almost dropped on the floor when I read Jimin’s name on the screen.

[JIMIN :)

1 NEW MESSAGE]

All of a sudden, my heart started to pound like it wanted to get out of my chest. I took a deep breath before flipping my phone and pressing View.

[JIMIN :)

Hey, can I go there? It’s getting a little boring here.]

[ME (draft)

Of course! Bring what you need!]

I delete it before I could even think twice. I cringed at what I just typed.

[ME (draft)

Okay, but it’s a little loud here]

Maybe not. He might end up not going if I say that.

[ME

Sure]

[JIMIN :)

I’ll bring ramen]

[ME (draft)

Okay]

I press the end call button and just fold my phone instead. I immediately go to the bathroom and wash my face with soap and water. I run my wet hands through my hair as well. Just as I got out, someone knocked on the door.

“Don’t shoot on anything!” I yell before walking out the door.

“Hey,” greets Jimin as soon as I open the gate. Unlike his usual self, the gloomy aura surrounding him can be clearly felt. His face and shoulders seem wretched as well.

“Are you alright? You look so pale.”

“Trying to be.”

“Stay in Seokjin’s or Taehyung’s room if you want to get some rest. It’s a little rowdy in the living room.”

“Thanks. I’ll go text him.”

As soon as I hear Seokjin’s bedroom door close, I make an announcement to the kids. “Jimin’s sick. Don’t make any loud noises from now on.” It did subside but only for a short while. “You kids, anyone who makes loud noises will not get to eat lunch.” They stop playing tok look at me with a weird expression on their faces, as if they’ve never heard someone say such a thing to them before. A hint of fear can also be seen. I fucked up again, didn’t I?

Unlike what I said, I started to prepare lunch when the clock hit noon. The kids gathered at the table and chowed down as soon as the food was ready. Meanwhile, I got my own food and ate in the living room.

[ME (draft)

Hey, lunch is ready. Can you go down here?]

[ME

Lunch is ready, feel free to eat here.]

[JIMIN :)

What’s for lunch?]

[ME

Pork belly, barbecue, dumplings, rice and kimchi]

[JIMIN :)

Damn, will go there ASAP]

I wipe the droplets of sweat on my forehead. My breath keeps on running as if they are trying to get away from something… or someone. I don’t know. I don’t even want to think about this. It only makes me go crazier and crazier. Even my well-trained emotional suppression skills are barely working. Helpless, hopeless—that’s what I am.

“Hey!”

“Shit!” I hold to my chest in shock and turn around. “I-it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me. You okay? You’re deep in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice me pass in front of you,” asks Jimin.

I shake my head. “I just zoned out.”

“Shit!” Taejoon mimicks while the other three laugh.

“Shit!” Chanbin and Yeongyu repeat in unison which makes them laugh even harder.

“Are you kids an adult to say that?” I ask.

“Shit!” The three exclaim, not even bothering to answer me.

Suddenly, I hear Jimin giggle softly—making me look back at him. “So, you can already laugh. Feeling better now?”

He just nods with a faint smile and takes a spoonful of kimchi stew. “Mmm, delicious. Did you cook?”

“Nope, one their parents probably.”

Neither of us talked after that; I just pretended the focus on my food while his eyes wandered around the place. Even though it feels like I need to say something, not a single word’s coming to my mind. My mouth is left agape from the urge to speak but not knowing what to say. For some reason, it seems to me that he’s feeling the same way. But how can I know for sure?

The kids come back to the living room not long after they have finished eating. I couldn’t thank the heavens enough; this is the only time today that I’ve actually become happy about their presence. Before they can even settle on their seats, I stand up to play the first Disney DVD my hand landed on: The Incredibles.

Jimin passes behind me so I look at him. He’s bringing my dirty plate with him to the kitchen. “Hey, s-sorry. You didn’t have to.”

He looks back and says, “Huh?”

“The plate.”

“Psh. It’s nothing.”

I follow him to the sink where he’s silently washing the dishes. He almost looks like he’s zoned out and submerged in his deep thoughts.

“Hey!” I jokingly yell from his back.

“Sh—!” He accidentally loses his grip on the plate he’s holding. It falls back to the sink, causing a small chip on the edge. “Oh, no…”

“I’m so sorry,” I say as I try to catch my breath. The plate looks expensive with all those blue Chinese prints. It most definitely came from an expensive dinnerware collection and Mrs. Kim would kill me if she sees this. I might have to babysit for nine or ten more times just to pay for the damage.

“Don’t worry about it. It was an accident.”

“But it looks expensive!”

“I was the one who lost grip on it, what are you being so worried about?” Jimin says with a faint giggle. I’m not buying it; he doesn’t sound amused at all. “Also, wanna watch?” He nonchalantly asks.

“This?” I ask back, pointing at the TV.

He just shakes his head. “Seokjin has a big collection up there.” I just looked blankly at him, deliberately making it obvious that I need more details to get what he’s saying. “Sola Aoi, Asami Yuma, Haruna Hana and so much more. We have everything we need up there!” I feel my whole body suddenly heat up upon hearing what he just said and my legs seem like they want to give up on me. “Hey, you okay?”

“Th-the kids…”

He takes a peek at them. “They’re already asleep.”

I look back at the kids and close my eyes in panic. Images of him being half-naked while beating off instantly flash in my mind. I vigorously shake my head along those thoughts. I can’t count how many times I saw him naked in the past. We even used to take a bath together along with the other guys when were younger. But this time everything’s different, especially to me, and it sucks big time. “Okay, then…”

He opens the dish dryer and puts all the now-squeaky clean plates, glasses, spoons and forks. “Don’t be so nervous. They’ll probably stay asleep until twilight or something.”

“Maybe,” I replied to him even if his words just seemed to bounce against my head. Naked. Naked. Naked. My mind just doesn’t seem to get tired about this goddamn word and keeps asking for more. Now, even the way he looks and smiles at me is starting to mean something else.

Jimin grabs my arm and pulls me until we reach Seokjin’s room. Before I could even react, the door was already locked and his pants and underwear were on the floor. My manhood starts to throb and harden as soon as my eyes lands on his half-naked body. He’s grown much bigger and thicker ever since I last saw him. That was a few years ago—same situation as now but with Hoseok and Taehyung, minus the feelings. To stop myself from completely breaking down out of panic and ruining everything for good, including our friendship, I just turn my head at a random teddy bear on Seokjin’s bed.

I sit beside him on the carpet and before also taking off my short pants and underwear. A strange kind of electricity seemed to charge on my body when I saw him look at my manhood. His mouth slightly gaped but he immediately closed it and focused on operating the DVD player. Since the tapes weren’t labeled, we don’t know what those contained. Jimin chooses just whatever. The video begins, and we see Sola Aoi who was wearing a provocative nurse uniform enter the hospital room where the middle-aged male patient was in.

I lean on the bed to relax and force myself to focus on the film. Jimin’s already starting to touch himself. He looks back at me with an unexplainable expression in his eyes. It’s been a while since I did this with them but I’m sure we didn’t look at each other while beating off, or maybe I’m just forcing weird meanings. At this point, I can’t even trust myself anymore.

I couldn’t help but start to actually beat off as soon as Sola started to moan. All of us in our group likes her the most for how irresistible she sounds when she’s getting fucked. It makes the film feel like 5D.

The film already ended but neither of us reached climax yet. When I was almost there, I stopped. I don’t know why but I felt like I needed to do so. As I try to catch my breath, I watch him while he did his business.

To my surprise, Jimin also stops and joins me in leaning on the bed, panting hard. He looked at me straight in the eyes, then his gaze dropped on my lips. “They look dry…”

Before I even knew it, our lips were all over each other and his tongue has successfully penetrated my mouth. Jimin’s hands start to explore inside my shirt before pulling it off of me. He removes his own next. My hands are frozen on his groin in disbelief. Everything seems like a dream but all of these are a hundred percent real.

“Jimin…” I mindlessly say.

“Do whatever you want to do to me.” He grabs my hand and places it on top of his manhood. “Don’t hold back.”

I pull his head and kiss him hard before pushing him down. Only God and I know how much he looks good with nothing on but his golden rolo chain necklace. “As long as you let me, I won’t.”

—

If you’re reading until here, thank you so much! The Wattpad and ao3 links where you can read the whole story are available above.

[fluffyvillain]

The Bond

Chapter: 4/?

Summary: Henry and Mila meet again after two years

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: A little swearing, like two words

"And what did you do after that?" Doctor Leitmann adjusted his glasses.

"I invited some friends over and I drank, a lot." Mila was completely honest as that was the deal between the two of them.

"Mhm, you see, it's not uncommon for people to swap one addiction with another and, let's face it, craving for a soulmate is sort of an addiction. Not rarely do people substitute this addiction with a different one, the one that allows them not to feel."

"I don't plan on doing that, but I have to admit that it did make me forget, even for only a few hours."

"Alright. Now, can you, please, tell me how you felt after you had left Henry at the restaurant."

Mila put both of her legs on the chair where she was sitting, hugging her shins, leaning chin on her knees. "Disappointed. Sad. Hollow. Piqued. Broken. Angry."

"Were you angry because of the way he treated you or because you didn't bond?"

"Because of the way he acted, the fact he doesn't feel the same about me makes me devastated."

"That's good, some people get angry at their soulmate because they don't feel the same way, but that is not something they chose, just like you didn't choose to feel this way for him, that is destiny. Now I'm going to ask you to do something you probably won't like, but you need it in order to begin your healing."

"Please, do."

"I need to contact Henry one more time, just to make sure. Ask him to meet you, try to explain that he got the wrong picture of you."

"Is that really necessary?" Mila felt like throwing up just thinking about it.

"I'm afraid it is, if you don't do this, you will always live with a grain of doubt."

"Well, my pride is already bruised, so what is there left to lose?"

"We will talk again last week, like we agreed. Until then, I want you to practice all the breathing techniques I showed you and everything else."

"I will, thank you."

"You have my number, if get into crises, feel free to call me at any hour."

"Thank you. Goodbye, doctor."

Mila decided to rip off the band aid right away.

 Dear Henry,

 Can we meet again? I wasn't lying about what I said. Please.

 Mila

--------------------------------------------------

10 DAYS LATER

 "So, what are your impressions after first week as a CEO?" James asked Mila.

"It's okay, a little bit stressful, but i like the position so far. And it's not like I could even make a mistake when gramps has been checking up on me the whole time."

Robert put down his glass on a table. "That's absolutely not true."

"Really, gramps? Out of 5 business days, you visited me only 4 times and you missed the 5th one only because you had a meeting outside of town." Mila raised an eyebrow at her grandfather.

"Can you blame me for wanting to help you?" Mila's eyebrow shot up even higher. "Okay, I just have to make sure that you have everything under control before I retire."

"Dad, we all know that you are never going to retire. Or you will, for a month or two." Rose joined the conversation.

"I second that." James supported his wife.

"We agree too," twins exclaimed in unison and once again their family was creeped out by the fact that they often said the exact same thing at the exact same time.

"Anyhow, I invited you here for a reason. So, you all know how I've always talked about finding my other half..." three silent nods followed, and two eye rolls - which were followed by their mother's death glare. "Well, that's not happening. I mean, it did happen, I met him, but we didn't bond. He simply doesn't feel it." Everyone kept silent, staring at her, except for uncle Blake, his eyes were fixated on the table. "I seeked professional help and I was advised to share this with my family, not to keep it inside. I've tried contacting him again, but he ignored me, so, definitely, that's it. I didn't even know that that could happen, but it can and it did happen to me." She took a deep, shaky breath.

"Cuz," Stephan grabbed Mila's hand and she expected words of support coming from him, "do you want us to kick his ass? We can do that much."

"I highly doubt that would be possible."

"Do you really think we can't do that, that we aren't strong enough? Who is that guy?" Mike supported his brother.

"Your favourite Superman."

"Christopher Reeve? He's a little dead I'm afraid."

"Okay, your second favourite."

"Cavill?"

"That's the one."

"Okay, maybe we cannot fight him, but he just dropped to the bottom of my list."

"Thanks, Mike, it means a lot to me."

"That's not fair." Everyone turned to Rose. "It's just not. Why would that happen, why to you?"

"Auntie, I will be fine, it will not be easy, but I will truly be fine. Don't you know me? I have my job to keep me busy, I will do different stuff to keep me occupied, like Sudoku, crosswords, playing video games, reading. I won't sink." Mila wasn't saying this just so Rose would calm down, she was sure she could do it, because she had to.

Robert walked over to his granddaughter speechlessly, he kissed her forehead before he excused himself to go to the bathroom, only Blake noticed a single tear rolling down his cheek, but he chose not to mention it even to his wife.

Rose insisted on staying with Mila overnight, but Mila refused. She needed to be alone, she needed to figure this out on her own. After she had bid them goodbye, she did the dishes, really focusing on what she was doing and it took her three times longer than necessary. Dishwasher wasn't even an option in her recent past or future, she used everything, every possible chore to get her mind of the way Henry felt.

Nights were the worst, she didn't know it at this moment, but it would take her months to be able to fall asleep without much trouble. Tonight wasn't an exception either, so Mila threw a blanket over her back, sitting in front of a glass wall of her living room, watching clouds get rid of excess energy, shooting up lightnings.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

2 YEARS LATER

 Waking up 2 hours before having to go to work was difficult at first, but Mila got used to it now. Doing morning yoga and meditation became a forced habit of hers, she did it so much that she got trained to block Henry's feelings within minutes, but not this morning. She almost never got the feeling of sadness and pain coming from him and even if she did, it was for a very short time. This morning those feelings wouldn't go away, it took her a lot to tone them down to a point she only felt them in traces.

The same thing happened the next day and the day after the next one. On the third day, she could barely eat her lunch, so she retreated to her office and decided to do something she hasn't done since a few days after she had met Henry. She put his name in Google search engine and pressed enter.

  Henry Cavill breks up with a long time girlfriend as she finds her soulmate

Elaine Svensson finds her soulmate, dumps Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill is back on the dating market

 Those were the first three results. Oh, that's what's going on. No wonder he's been feeling this way. Now that she knew what was going on, she though it would be easier for her to block it. Knowing how much love he felt, it wasn't a surprise he felt that way.

-----------------------------------------------------------

2 WEEKS LATER

 After finishing her yoga session, Mila made herself a cup of tea. She got her phone off a charger to check her social networks, but she was surprised to see that she got a an e-mail on her personal address last nigh. She opened it and stared at it for quite some time, it was an e-mail she should've received 2 years ago.

 I was wrong, you are not just some crazy fan.

I did some research about you, I asked around, I know who you are.

We need to meet, does tomorrow work for you? I'll come to your hotel.

 Henry

 She wasn't sure whether she wanted to answer at first, but she wasn't like him, even if her response was negative, she wanted to do it. She just wasn't sure what to write, so she opted for a short one.

 FUCK YOU!

 No, that's a little harsh, it would be rude for you to write it.

 SCREW YOU! GO TO HELL!!!

 She pressed backspace until everything was deleted. Breathe, Mila. She knew exactly what was going on, he wanted her to be his rebound. Otherwise, she would feel the change in his feelings. He knew her love would be unconditional, that she would never leave him, but she wasn't anyone's second choice, not even his. She deserved better.

 Dear Mr. Cavill,

 Thank you for your e-mail.

Unfortunately, tomorrow doesn't work for me. As a matter of fact, any day after tomorrow doesn't work for me either.

 Best regards and good luck in your future endeavors,

Mila Radcliffe

 She did 15 more minutes of meditation again and then continued her day as usually, like nothing happened. Today was the day her company organized annual blood donating day. Her grandfather started it after her mother had been in a need of blood while in the hospital, even though it didn't do much for her in the end, Robert realized the importance of blood donating. He saw it as an homage to her daughter and Mila continued his legacy.

When she was done with daily reports, she joined her coworkers in a conference room where blood donating was held. She was among the last ones, she greeted her colleagues first: "Hello everyone, you are doing an amazing thing, thank you." Then she greeted the medical staff before she filled in a standard form, they checked her hemoglobin level and then she proceeded to a quick doctor's check up. "Is everything alright, doctor?"

"It is, thank you for doing this again."

"Pleasure is all mine." Mila feed access to her biceps.

"Okay, let's check your blood pressure now." Doctor wrapped and inflatable cuff around her arm, she waited for a few seconds. "You are good to go. I just have one more question. I see in the system that you are a bone marrow donor to, have you ever donated?"

"Unfortunately, no. Nobody ever matched with me."

"Chances are 1:430, but even if you never get matched, just applying is a very noble thing. Well, that's all from me, you know the procedure."

It took less than 5 minutes for Mila to finish up the blood drawl, she thanked everyone again and left the conference room. The ones who donated blood didn't have to go back to work, especially if their job involved using physical strength, hers didn't and she was used to donating blood.

She rolled down her sleeve and continued to her office. Path leading there went through the hotel lobby, so she smiled and nodded at the front desk staff and tried to hurry in order not to disturb guests and visitors sitting there, but soon she stopped in her track when she heard someone calling her once and she knew exactly who he was.

"Mila," Henry approached her, confident steps, deep voice, arm firmly outstretched towards her.

If they were alone, she would've never accepted his hand, but she didn't want to make a scandal. She shook his hand for a second and she instantly started resenting herself for feeling the same electrical current coming through her like when she touched him the first time. "I think I made it clear that I didn't want to see you," she tried to be quiet enough so nobody else could her.

"Can we go somewhere more private, please?" Henry didn't pay much attention to her when they met, but now that he looked at her, she was beautiful. She was significantly shorter than him even on heels, he usually dated tall girls, but women's height wasn't something that was of utmost importance for him. Her large blue eyes had something worm in them even though her voice was ice cold. Since this was his best option, he could make it work, it wouldn't be so difficult. Maybe one day he would come to love her, now that Elaine would never be his again.

Mila looked him straight in the eye, his eyes looked tired and dark circles around his eyes gave out the fact that he didn't sleep in God knows how long. "Only because I don't need any kind of scandal here, let alone one caused by me. You can follow me to my office."

Henry followed silently, taking his time to analyze her appearance further. Her long dark brown curls bounced in the rhythm of her footsteps, she was on a skinnier side, but her ass didn't look skinny at all.

Mila pressed her ID card against a card reader and a door opened. "Please, go ahead," she held the door for him. They passed a few offices until they reached hers. When they entered, she gestured for him to have a seat on the opposite side of her desk, across from her chair. "Okay, go ahead. What do you want?"

"I need to apologize for my previous behavior first. I couldn't even grasp what you felt in that moment when you met me. You know, Elaine left me, about two weeks ago, we were out in a club and it was over in minutes. The person I though was the love of my life left me in about 15 minutes for her soulmate, after all the years we spent together, after I moved here for her. All of that didn't matter. That's when I saw how powerful that force is. I wish I could feel the same for you."

Mila looked at his blue eyes at first, noticing a little brown patch in one. In order to focus on what he was saying, she focused on a pile of papers in front of her. He sounded hurt and a part of him wanted to help him, to console him, but the part who wanted to kill him for even thinking about her as a consolation price won. "How stupid do you think I am? No, you don't. You wish your soulmate was Elaine and now that you can't have her anymore, you came to pick up your second prize. You miscalculated a bit, I learned to live without you and I'd rather be alone my whole life than feel like a silver medal you won, when all you've ever wanted was to win gold."

"That's not..."

"Let me stop you right there, I don't want you to waste your time anymore, nor do I want to waste mine." Mila stood up, she was the one who offered her hand now first.

Henry took it and shook it gently, he really thought that she would agree, he needed her to. He wanted to belong somewhere. "If you ever change your mind, you know how to find me."

"I won't and, please, if you ever run into me, just pretend that you didn't see me and that you don't know me, it will make things easier for me. Now, if you don't mind, I have a lot of work, you know your way out." She set back on the chair and gestured towards the door. "Goodbye, Mr. Cavill."

"Goodbye, Mila."

She waited until she heard a vague click of the second door before she threw a paper clip at the door, all of her pens followed. She slammed a drawer shut and then kicked a garbage can, feeling completely helpless. Then she lay on the floor in a fetal position, hoping the pain would go away and that her tears would dry soon.

[bellamygateoldblog]

The 100 7x01: Discussion

My general takeaway from the episode can be summarised like this: Echo is spectacular. (I might’ve said “oh my god look at her!!!!!” and “ugh she is just The Best” too many times to count).

This is long-ish because I really just wanted to consolidate my thoughts in one place. Bitch it’s me i got a lot to say!!!!!

The Good Parts

— The farmhouse setting. While it’s existence is strange and “a sore thumb” and worked to further push Sanctum being the abomination born of clumsily mixing genres and time periods in terms of construction/costuming, making everything appear disconnected and obnoxious, it was still a nice change. It made me feel warmer and more comfortable as a ‘modern’ viewer. It’s a breath of fresh air from the constant dark element: dilapidated post-apoc buildings falling from their foundation, endless woods, and equally cold-feeling labs and skeleton dungeons.

— Echo. This was a damn good episode for Echo and every second reminded me of why she’s my favourite. She’s a badass. I always love to see her falling naturally into leadership of her little ragtag groups who accept it wholeheartedly. From the “testing a theory” moment where she went ‘when Gabriel doesn’t speak >>>’, to right at the end when she killed the solider about to “eliminate” Hope (hesitation is death...oh no he can’t hear us he’s got airpods in oh my god). It was Echo that got them through the whole sequence with the anomaly, Echo who figured shit out, Echo who quickly judged the situations and formed plans to overcome the obstacles. In other words: she did THAT.

Favourite scene: Echo coming face-to-face with the projection of her own insecurities in the form of Roan and Echo 1.0, and physically overcoming them (shooting them down), along with the trauma and pain that they both represent. The perserverence and getting the job done despite the emotional torture felt like a callback to the Psychosis episode of 6x02 when she was clever enough to sedate herself to silence the voices in her head. I also think the dialogue chosen was also foreshadowing that she would become a leader by the finale (commander?) and i love to see it!

— Clarke and Madi’s conversation. Oh Clarke, you just keep reinforcing and validating my perceptions of who you are as a person over and over again lol. In all her self-importance failing to remember that Madi, in fact, had and was raised by her biological parents for half of her life (and the new knowledge that she spent six years telling her little mind tales from the book of her life whilst apparently never taking the time to learn about Madi’s or acknowledge/honour her birth parents in any way) is “yeah that’s about right” to me. Sure you could say she was still reeling from the events of six and her death-almost death-almost death again. But I’ve always had this Thing about the relationship between Clarke and Madi. And i’ve seen some of the lighthearted humourous reception that scene got from fandom, “#where do you think the child CAME from?!” which only served to remind me of my own impression that Clarke views Madi as wholely ‘hers’, as if Madi’s existence was tied to Clarke, but i might elaborate in a seperate post.

This scene was a lovely display of self-awareness I’ve rarely seen on Clarke (never even got it when she electrocuted said child two seasons ago- however that absense of apology and acknowledgement of the sheer wrongness of that action also fits very nicely with my view of her lmao, still though, a weird choice for your ‘heroine’).

— Clarke’s “feels like a different world.” Felt romantically-coded. I think Gaia/Clarke might be the most convinient relationship to transform into romance at this point. However I’m sincerely hoping this road they could go down won’t reduce Gaia to a crutch/accessory for Clarke, and that she doesn’t become merely a love interest. I’ve seen talk already of Gaia being “Clarke’s happiness” etc.. which is already confirming my worst fears. Sigh.

This moment very much felt like found closure and the turning of a page. But i will say it was a very sharp turn from the three seasons of shoehorned-in mentions of Lexa, and last season’s emphasis on Clarke’s very-much intact emotional response to her memory- “it’s why you cry when you think about Lexa”- to her looking at an image of Lexa’s memory of her, reminicing but having no emotional response to it, and brushing it off while sharing a soft look with Gaia (and this is a few days since s6? I don’t know how this timeline is working but Tbh it’s not like these writers ever concerned themselves with ‘realistic time frames’ anyway lol). Yep, Jason’s seasons are individual “movies,” alright.

Other *nodding approvingly* moments

— Raven’s subtle “elevator eyes” on Clarke when she started giving her orders again. I see you, Miss Reyes, and I appreciate you.

— Raven + the foot in her mouth and the cute way she catches herself both times. I just love watching characters fail at existing LOL. She was feeling more human than stereotype or plot device this episode.

— "Mommy and Auntie O” and the implication that Hope is a child inside an aged-up body.

— This quote: “I know what it’s like to lose your family 100 years ago and yesterday at the same time.” It’s so literal but I like it a lot.

— Clarke being ‘leader’ again is, as usual, solely a matter of convinient (and familial/love) circumstances and it felt very true.

The Rest

— The Eligius Situation. So Clarke and her inner circle conquer and live in a nice home, and we’re specifically told Clarke takes the master suite (and the dog), and I was like ‘fair enough’ but then she orders prison labour. She tells them to build her a compound that they won’t actually get to be apart of, and to live in tents while they do so. They aren’t getting anything out of this (before they resist and set their own terms). This is slavery. Also, those aren’t her people to boss around, look down on, and use accordingly for her own gain (in fact they barely know her or why she’s gone from being that one unloyal woman who executed their men and got herself captured like an idiot, then couldn’t make up her mind about which side she wanted to kill- to one in the uppermost position of authority...like...they woke up yesterday) But, then again, that never stopped her.

— Too much and not enough at the same time. The pacing of the episode in general was awful. Too much happening in quick succession, no breathing room, too many factions (no, actually Raven, where is ALIE when you need her? smh). I blink, I miss an entire scene and a character is now beating someone else up. Amazingly, i was still bored 90% of the time.

— The Children of Gabriel calling themselves “The Children of Gabriel.” It was always goofy, even more so when a grown man is saying it.

— Murphy + his self loathing over Abby’s death. Did I miss the part where she was ever good to him? One of their final moments together was of her telling him he deserved to die over Clarke after she spent the entire series treating him like he was inferior and disposable. uhhhhhhhhhh.

— The picnic scene. Jackson’s sudden violent outburst was unearned (it wasn’t even set up???), and also disrespectful. Wrong place, wrong time, bro. He’s grieving? Okay. But when Abby’s daughter is sitting right in front of you, making this about you, ruining a perfectly good toast in her honour with your uncomfortable accusations loses you points you never even had to begin with. And this is a ‘me’ thing but I can’t be bothered to be sympathetic when this is about Abby Griffin.

Also, I have to say it. Eliza’s acting took me out of the scene every time I looked at Clarke. I couldn’t for the life of me work out what those expressions were supposed to be.

— Russell, his manpain, and a fury over the consiquences of his own actions  that could rival the grounders (”my brother died in your ring of fire [while he was trying to murder you all]” hmm sounds like a you problem). But the worst part is, I simply couldn’t tell where he stood or what he was feeling. He’s so one-dimensional. He’s an evil man (so much for ”grey morality”).

— Clarke + Jordan. A small point to make but all Clarke has done since Marper made her ‘Godmother’ of their son has blame him for everything bad happening lol. Marper loses a lot of my respect as time goes on for that choice. As much as I dislike Jordan’s presence in the show, still not a great pattern to have noticed.

— Raven seeking approval from Clarke (specifically) for the Prime idea was...weird and very bad. When has Raven ever cared for Clarke’s validation, especially in the last few seasons?

Was also taken aback by how Indra and Miller are both suddenly so protective of Clarke, like i can make sense of the Indra part even though it relies on me making things up that aren’t supported by what’s on screen, but Miller?

— (Bonus moment that was bad for me, but not for the same reason it was for the rest of you: the scene of Hope finding the message in her arm. When she was removing the blood-soaked bandage I freaked out because I thought she was peeling her skin off. You’re welcome for that visual.)

The Mixed/No Feelings

— Clarke’s full-dark-no-stars. How many times have they told me now she’s “the head”? LMAO. 

I have no actual formed opinion on it. Only disjointed thoughts. Like i might’ve just gone “good for her” if Clarke wasn’t the person she is, with the history she has.

I appreciate the idea, to have her spend the whole episode declaring she is, in fact, completely fine, to end it having her explode with the repressed pain.

I mean...i realise the cognition behind it, but it’s eye-roll inducing at this point. This- kicking Russell to death (giving him exactly what he wanted and set out to provoke), and burning down a palace she promised to keep intact, once again going against the group to do her own Thing that they all ultimately have the suffer the consiquences of and help clean up- is just a repeat of past patterns, and Monty’s “do better” mantra that she desperately clung to like she owned it last season is nowhere in sight.

(Also, I can’t be the only one who spotted her physically smacking that Sanctum girl as she walked onto the balcony? Not cool. Wasn’t cool when Murphy acted like a dick to one of them either this episode.)

The rushed switch did a number on me, too, like Jackson’s did. Literally five minutes before she was preaching about a peaceful life for Madi that doesn’t take revenge (I think I know what they were going for with that but it just left me feeling confused and frustrated).

Furthermore, I’ve seen talk that this was her “burning down of a symbol of oppression”, something she experienced first hand (not so unlike Blodreina and the bunker she desperately wanted to escape and deliver her people from), but there was no noble, calculated intention there. She burned the palace accidentally in her rage because she was in pain and disorientated. The moral stuff was just an after effect.

The speech was also very ‘Clarke’. Feeling entitled to and making decisions on who lives and dies right after declaring this wasn’t their kill to make. She wasn’t the only person hurt by the Primes (but we’ve also been given no reason to care about any of the other victims- the manipulated, enslaved population have been turned into a joke and a punching bag for the main characters which...isn’t great either). And the castle could’ve been used to shelter some of the “too many people” we had problems with through the episode (or used to harvest resources from). It really comes down to if i think the situation justifies the reaction and if i hold her wholely responsible...and this is the part where i reiterate that i have no intact opinion and don’t actually care to have one either ha.

[ironspiidey]

Starker Spofity Shuffle

So ive been struggling with severe writers block. After seeing some peeps do the song shuffle mini fic thing on tumblr I thought it might be a good way to curb said writers block. Fingers crossed guys.

Read on A03

Help Pour Out the Rain (Lacey’s Song)// Buddy Jewell (Parent!Peter, Innocent!Morgan )

Peter was just on his way back to the house after his and Morgan’s weekly ice cream date after much of both Pepper and Tony saying that he was her parent as Pep and Tony are and that she needed alone time with her Papa as much as her Mommy and Daddy. When Morgan piped up from the backseat

“Papa!”

“Yes peanut?”

“Will we ever visit Auntie Nat?”

Peter glanced back at her through the rear-view mirror “I wish we could but Nat is in heaven with the angels.”

“Can we go there? Like to visit or would we have to stay forever. Could god use another angel to poor out the rain?” Morgan kept questioning her papa while she kept looking out the window

“Sorry baby we can’t go visit or stay until its our time to do so sweetie.”

“Oh okay.” Morgan shrugs her shoulders, the 6-year-old was silent for a moment before asking about something else. Not noticed how her Papa’s eyes were misty.

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With it// Always Never (Teenage!Starker, Hidden Relationship!)

Peter doesn’t get it, one-minute Tony and he are on the same page than all of a sudden he’s ghosted hard.

Tony tells his buddies that him and Peter have a weird friendship. Which honestly is true. After the disaster that was Quentin Beck, Peter stopped putting his heart on his sleeve. He thought things would be kinda okay with him and Tony until Tony started hiding them like what the fuck is that. Especially since he was with guys openly it wasn’t a coming out thing. Maybe Tony is just scared because of how Peter told him to enjoy the ride and let it play out and not to worry about love.

Only reason Peter even said that was because he was A. Stoned as hell, B. Just getting over his ex and C. Knowing how much of a player Tony Stark was and didn’t want to lose this good vibe of a friendship thing they had. But now? Now Peter knows he’s in love with him and maybe next time they get high he’ll mention it. Tony is always 100% honest while high.

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Hymn For The Missing// Red ( Character Death, Grieving!Tony, Adult!Peter, )

Tony finds himself back on the rooftop of the tower once again still heartbroken 2 years later. He fucking lost Peter. Tony never forgave himself for it, staring at the sky he wonders what happens to those that were dusted. Are they alive but in an alternate universe? Or are they truly dead? Strange doesn’t say much about what could be and frankly Tony doesn’t really want to know. The thought of sweet Peter, his Babyboy truly dead forever or stuck in the galaxy drifting would be too much to bear. It’s bad enough as it is with the knowledge that he couldn’t save him in the first place. Tony takes a deep breath and downs the scotch in his hand. It helps numb helps the pain. But only a little.

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Difficult Love// City and Colour (Minor Cheating mentioned, Drug use Mentioned Tony fucked up a lot but Peter loves him)

Tony knows its not been easy for Peter to stick by him. All these years from his college days and the fights, the drugs, the ‘cheating’. Peter refuses to call what Tony did cheating, says they were on a break so he cant call it cheating, But Tony well he knows it was a dick move because they were only on a break because Peter felt Tony needed to deal with some of his issues on his own without having to worry about Peter too.

All that happened during that break was Tony getting high out of his tree on things much harsher than weed, sleeping with randos and 2 overdoses. One that nearly killed him.

At the same time, he knows he needed to go through all that to be the Tony Stark he is today. Maybe without the overdoses but he’s still breathing and that’s what counts, or that’s at least what Peter keeps drilling into his thick brain.

God Tony is so grateful Peter stuck by him through his difficult love all these years.

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Worst in Me// Julia Michaels (Jealous!Peter, they have issues, but Tony knows they can work through it)

Peter sighs out on the balcony of their home. THEIR home. Peter takes a deep breath. Tonight’s fight was bad real bad. Peter let his emotions get in the way, the bad ones. The ones where he can’t help but be jealous of the woman that try to hang of Tony, his husband. They worked through so much shit. From abusive exs and past traumas together to have something so stupid get in the way. Peter shakes his head. Why does the worst in him have to come out and ruin things? Things used to be so great with him and Tony. But of course, Tony pushes and Peter pushes back and then they end up like this. Peter swallows and heads back inside, headed for the lab where he knows his better half is bound to be.

Peter tries the door, but it won’t him which means Tony is very mad and Peter definitely crossed the invisible line of don’t go here.

“Friday? Can you open this door?”

“Sorry Peter, Boss said no visitors, especially Spiderhusband.”

Peter lets out a sad chuckle at the little nickname.  “Can you patch my voice through to the lab.”

“Of course.”

“Tony..”

“Peter please go away.”

“Just hear me out, I promise if you don’t want to hear from me. Ill go stay with May or Bucky or something. Just please” Peter swallows, his voice starting to break. “Just let me say my piece first.”

Tony doesn’t look up from his hologram, just motions with his hand for him to continue.

“Its like I’ve got this chain reaction to act like a total dick. That the worst in me just must make an appearance when things are just getting good. I bring out all your monsters and I’m so sorry Tony. I’m not perfect but I cant lose you.. We used to be so happy and I know we could fix these kinks and the bad parts may not want to fix this, us. But the best in me wants to love you until the end of every forever.”

By the end of Peter’s spiel, both of them are crying. Tony walks over to the door and unlocks it. Opening his arms “C’mere Petey Pie. We are never above fixing. I get bitter.” Tony wraps his arms tightly around his husband as he ran into his arms “But I didn’t exactly stop people from mauling over me and I’ll do my very best to not hurt you again baby, We can do this.”

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Until the Day I Die// Story Of The Year (Hurt!Tony, Peter professes his love )

“God Tony this is so scary.” Peter swallows looking at his boyfriend and mentor laying in this hospital bed . “I need you to be okay. I know we haven’t been together long and this is definitely NOT the way to profess my love to you but the Doctors say your brain activity is fine and your just not waking up. So here goes.”

Peter glances at the door to make sure nobody was within listening distance. “Tony I feel like I loved you my whole life and not in the hero obsession everyone thinks. You’ve become my best friend, rock and partner all in one and while we only started becoming a thing. I love you with all of me until the day I die. If you don’t wake up and pull through this, if you.” Peter swallows “If you die, you’ll be taking me with you because without you Im nothing. Please Baby come back to me.”

[galaxae]

3, 7 and 18 for as many as you can answer; btw do you still have an ocs page? like with introductions and all that

wow this took forever oops!

tysm for the ask!! i’ve been meaning to make a carrd or something with oc intros, but i have so goddamn many ocs and so little time now that i’m in college and all that. and i have the code saved from my old pages before i remade, but those are kind of outdated and incomplete

that being said i’m probably gonna end up making that carrd regardless of how busy i am cause special interest indulgence and all that, so i’ll post about it when i do

anyway! i’m putting the actual oc answers under a readmore because i’m gonna try to do all the ocs i listed and it’ll be kinda long lol

3. What does your oc’s voice sound like? (Or, if you have one, what’s their voiceclaim?) Can they sing, whistle, or roll their rs? Do they have any speech impediments or notable dialects/accents?

how does one even describe voices... ok here goes

avani: she’s my character for a ttrpg campaign, so her voice sounds basically like mine (which might not help much cause you don’t know how i talk lol), but when i’m talking as her i pitch my voice up a bit and make it a bit more nasally. she’s not much of a singer, nor can she whistle, but she can roll her r’s pretty well. also, since she’s autistic and hard of hearing, her tone of voice often comes off the "wrong” way

farhan: he’s another ttrpg character i play lol, or at least he will be next semester, so his voice is again kind of like mine. but when i talk as him i pitch my voice down and it’s a bit hoarse. ig his voice would also be more “masculine” than mine but whatever. he can sing and whistle but has a pretty small vocal range (since he’s, like, 13 right now and will be 16 when i rp him next semester)

carter: i imagine his voice as low and on the quiet and raspy end, with a tiny bit of a lisp. he’s way too insecure to try to sing or even whistle or anything like that, though if he practiced at it he’d probably get pretty good

calira: she’s mute so n/a i guess. but she talks pretty formally in her dialect of elvish sign language, which is definitely unusual

sam: they have kind of a low voice that’s also raspy, but with quite a bit of pep and variation in their tone. they can even sing pretty well and they like to whistle constantly while working. that creates some kind of whiplash cause sam comes off as a typical edgy teen a lot of the time

jizoriel: high-pitched with lots of voice cracks, peak pretentious preteen/early teen jerkass. he can’t really sing or do anything similar, nor does he want to very much

victoria: so quiet and raspy that you can barely make out that it’s low and has a soothing and pleasant tone to it. she can sing well, or at least she could once upon a time

rowan: just! the happiest and most cheerful voice you can imagine! so much love behind how she talks! her voice fills up her whole head and the whole room!! and she whistles sometimes while she walks

ace: defies any masculine or feminine labels, smooth and cool in theory but they stutter quite a bit

charity: gruff but with a hint of cheer and clarity behind it that comes out when she’s startled. she loves to sing but can’t whistle and can’t roll her r’s either

jamal: i actually have a voiceclaim for him! it’s this (the voice that sings from 1:51 to 1:58)

kimberly: her voice is a bit high and a bit... idk how to say it exactly... i guess shrill would be the word?

fabián: his voice seems higher-pitched than it actually is cause he talks higher when he’s anxious, and he’s always anxious. it’s a bit hard to describe his voice otherwise tbh. i can hear it in my head but i can’t quite put it to paper oops. oh yeah also he has a great singing voice but never uses it sooo

7. What song reminds you of this oc? Does this match up with the type of music your oc likes to listen to?

this question opens up a wormhole cause i have playlists for many of these guys but instead i’ll just provide one (1) song for each and vaguely describe their music taste, how does that sound

avani: honestly “mr. capgras encounters a secondhand vanity” by will wood is a “her” song to me. her music taste leans a lot more toward older music though (like some classics from the 70s and 80s and such)

farhan: he’s still very new so i haven’t really found a song for him yet. but i know he absolutely loves peppy and energetic pop music and also sappy gay love songs

carter: (slaps my hand away when i try to type another will wood song) “fantasy island” by the shins always launches me into daydreams about him. which kinda roughly aligns with his music taste, he listens to a lot of those “mainstream indie” artists. he’d also listen to will wood because he’s gay and mentally ill <3

calira: one of my favorite songs on her playlist is “maximillian von spee” by dirt poor robins. but the music she listens to is basically all invigorating church-loving stuff with medieval-era instruments lmao

sam: “sometimes” by nick lutsko is an absolute bop and very much a sam song. sam actually doesn’t go out of their way to listen to music though, but when they do they listen to either the most soothing and relaxing stuff or to the angriest metal emo music. no in between

jizoriel: i’ll go the less emo angle here and say a song that reminds me of him is “upside down” by jack johnson. jizoriel’s music taste is like. old choir music and shit plus incomprehensible magical music that doesn’t even sound like music. if he was from earth he’d like my chemical romance

victoria and rowan: i’m grouping these two together here because a song that reminds me very strongly of both of them/their relationship is “human” by dodie. which actually fits very well into both of their music tastes!

ace: again, going the less edgy angle here, “auntie earth” by walter mitty and his makeshift orchestra. but ace mostly listens to uh, classical flute music and flute covers

charity: absolutely “dance and cry” by mother mother, that’s pretty much her theme song. it’s among her favorite songs in canon too

jamal: “tire swing” by los elk, since his arc is about letting go of childhood and all that jazz. he’s more inclined to listen to fun. and other pop artists and rappers and such. he likes janelle monae

kimberly: “best tears” by the happy fits for sure. in terms of her music taste though, her taste is pretty similar to jamal’s. they bond over being janelle monae fans

fabián: by god does “heal” by so much light fit him. his taste is that he rotates through three (3) specific obscure indie artists lmao, so theoretically i guess that specific song is included in there

18. How does your oc see themself? How does this compare to the way other ocs see them?

i am gonna do my best to keep these short cause this is a loaded question for all of them hoo boy

avani: how she sees herself: honestly the worst person alive. unless she spends every moment of her time trying to make up for what she’s done, she’s worthless, and she doesn’t deserve to love herself in any capacity how others see her: her brother (farhan) really looks up to her! most of the time. the superhero team she’s on (other people’s ocs) all think she’s generally smart and capable enough, and her boyfriend in particular thinks she’s incredible

farhan: how he sees himself: as of right now? a misunderstood emo middle schooler who’s still kind of cool i guess how others see him: his sister (avani) thinks he’s quite an impressive and charismatic young man

carter:  how he sees himself: 1/10 awkward and annoying how others see him: carter reminds calira too much of her old self, so she love-hates him. sam thinks he’s weak and cowardly but admires his kindness. and jizoriel clings to him as a caring father figure and loves carter’s passion for natural studies

calira: how she sees herself: it goes back and forth between “i’m the greatest chosen one ever im such a strong warrior” and “wow i’m literal trash why did the gods pick me for this” how others see her: carter is a bit intimidated by her but appreciates her attempts to vibe with him, sam thinks she’s an annoying pretentious self-important bitch (but their opinion softens over time), and jizoriel sees right through her facade and feels comfortable around her because of it

sam:  how they see themself: evil and in need of redemption, kind of similar to avani ig but with 10x more confidence in their skills and also much more violent how others see them: carter knows theyre doing their best even if theyre kind of an asshole, calira is a fan of their strength and determination, and jizoriel Hates Their Guts (at first) because they baby him too much

jizoriel: how he sees himself: a fucking fraud of a prince. all he has going for him is his abilities as a mage, but even then those are shaky how others see him: carter knows he’s very insecure and wants to comfort him, calira admires his magical prowess and noble air, and sam thinks he’s a snarky little pretentious douchebag but also he reminds them of their late brother and they want to protect him at all costs

victoria: how she sees herself: basically dead. only good for interacting with ghosts. not worthy of the human world or of friendship how others see her: she reminds rowan of her old self. rowan sees a glimmer of love and hope in her and wants to bring it out

rowan: how she sees herself: a fucking mess but she’s trying her best and that’s what counts! how others see her: victoria very much appreciates her cheerful air even if she doesn’t act like it

ace: how they see themself: way too weird to be human, way too weak not to be. their self-image changes constantly. theyre very confused about everything please help how others see them: charity is literally dating them lol she thinks theyre the cutest person alive, jamal appreciates how hard they try as a friend, kimberly thinks theyre an alien invader whom she can study and use to get further in life, and fabián knows more about ace than anyone else and loves them for it

charity: how she sees herself: a Teenager who’s struggling. she desperately wants to be young without the burden of her trauma but whether she thinks of herself as emo and sad and angry or not depends a lot on her mood how others see her: ace adores everything about her, jamal loves how cool and fun and sociable she can be, kimberly is annoyed with her rebelliousness, and fabián worries very much for her well-being and can’t shake the image of her as helpless (oops that’s gonna cause some drama)

jamal: how he sees himself: just a chill guy trying to get by. unremarkable. how others see him: ace is grateful for how forgiving he can be but is still terrified of him being angry over [spoilers], charity loves how sociable and fun he is and how protective he can be of his friends, kimberly secretly envies his carefree nature, and fabián sees him as a solid acquaintance to whom he did not give a good first impression

kimberly: how she sees herself: not good! if she can’t grow up fast and do science well then she’s useless how others see her: ace wants to be friends with her but doesn’t know how to do that, charity is annoyed by her rule-bound-ness, jamal thinks she’s cool but should unwind a little, and fabián resents her at first but would still like to play chess with her sometime

fabián: how he sees himself: he has a moral responsibility to help people Or Else. way too anxious and stuck up but he doesn’t know how to change that how others see him: ace fuckin Loves this guy, charity loves him too but she gets pissed when he tries to help her with anything, jamal genuinely thinks he’s a great guy and wants to get to know him better, and kimberly is actually impressed by him and envies his apparent confidence and charisma

ok ok that’s it i promise. sorry this is so long and tysm for reading if you made it this far!! feel free to ask more oc questions literally whenever, that goes for anyone reading this <3

[221bshrlocked]

Look Ma, I Made It

Trouble is a Friend Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 2775

Warnings: None so far. Some emotional talk in the end (I apologize for that). Swearing. Flirting.

Prompt: Fake Dating AU

A/N: Part 3. I don’t do taglists anymore sorry.

Bucky’s laugh every time something didn’t go your way only made you angrier and you didn’t want to admit that it’s because you loved the sound of it. You rarely heard him laugh, and when he did, it was either because he was teasing you or because Steve said something funny. You were hanging your last shirt when you turned around and saw Bucky standing in just his boxers.

“What the hell are you doing?” You tried not to look at his chest for too long but it was useless. He was shameless in everything he did and you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry at him. In the time that you knew him, you’ve seen him at his worst, and his worst was sad, anyway you looked at it. So you were pissed that he was making butterflies flutter in your stomach but it wasn’t his fault you were so attracted to him. If he’d just stop being an asshole all the time, that would solve your issue.

“I’m changing because it’s been a long day.”

“There’s a bathroom right there idiot.” You pointed behind him and blinked away when he smiled at you. Throwing his shirt on the bed, he took a few steps towards you and stopped, trapping you between your dresser and his firm body.

“Am I making you uncomfortable little doll?” Bucky’s blue orbs trailed over your skin, from your lips to your neck and back to your eyes. He licked his bottom lip before placing his hands on either side of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and could only breathe heavily as you felt the heat radiating off of him. Then he leaned down to whisper in your ears. “Because it’s might be a problem if you are. Only one bed sweetheart.” To anyone else, it would have been nothing but Bucky was a perceptive man, and the little whimper escaping your throat was all he needed to know the effect he had on you.

He suddenly pushed away and got dressed quickly, opening the door and telling you he’ll wait for you downstairs.

“We’re here together Y/N, so act like it. Or else someone will put it together.” He shut the door behind him and you heard his footsteps down the stairway, trying to collect yourself before you followed him. He was right, but this was the last thing you wanted. You knew he wasn’t capable of doing what the last asshole did. Granted you found him annoying as shit but this was Bucky. He wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it was pissing off Steve. And as much as you wanted to open your heart to him, his words lingered in the back of your mind.

Act. This was just an act. He’s probably just acting like all the times he went undercover.

You took your time freshening up in the bathroom, wanting to look as calm as possible when you made an appearance again.

As soon as Bucky entered the kitchen, the kids ran to him again and pretended to fall over when they hugged him.

“Kids give him some space. Don’t wanna scare him away.” Diane said from the couch and Bucky told her he didn’t mind.

“What’s your name young man?” Bucky straightened up when he heard someone ask from behind him and he told the kids to give him a minute.

“I’m James Barnes. But everyone calls me Bucky Mr. Y/L/N.”

“Oh I’m not Y/L/N, that was Diane’s late husband. I’m Pete.” He stretched out his hand and Bucky took it immediately, realizing he may have just blown his cover. “Surely Y/N would’ve told you?” Pete narrowed his eyes at Bucky and he cleared his throat before answering. “Y/N likes to keep a lot to herself and I’m never one to pressure her to talk about anything she doesn’t want.” Bucky chuckled awkwardly and sighed in relief when he saw you appearing at the end of the stairway.

Pete turned around and smiled at you, putting his drink down and laughing when you jumped at him.

“I missed you baby.” He kissed your forehead and you hugged him tightly, responding with a smile before pulling away and apologizing for bringing Bucky on such short notice.

“Nonsense, I’m just happy you found nice one this time,” he elbowed you and told Diane to be quiet when she said ‘good-looking’ as well. You turned to Bucky and stared at him silently before approaching him.

“Is something wrong? Did he say anything?” You were genuinely concerned, the way Bucky was looking at you made you think he was sad.

“No no not at all. We’ll talk later doll.” He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head before pulling away to play with the kids.

The entire night was spent with you and Bucky running after the three incredibly hyper children and it was all going smoothly until one of them asked Bucky the obvious question.

“How come you get a metal arm and I don’t?” Riley asked, looking between you and her brother and sister before tracing the metal plates on Bucky’s arms. You didn’t know what to say and were surprised when Bucky responded calmly.

“So here’s the thing, a very long time ago, I was being a naughty boy and hurt myself because I wasn’t too careful so I kinda lost my arm.” Bucky stopped when all three of them gasped and apologized when Sofia started crying and ran to you. Lucas shushed her and told Bucky to keep going. “It’s okay little one I’m fine now. Your auntie’s closest friend helped me out and built me this so I can use both of them.”

“Does it hurt?” Sofia asked and your heart broke because of the sincerity in her question.

“Sometimes it does, when Y/N grabs on it when we’re watching a scary movie.” Bucky said as seriously as he could and laughed when you pushed him and he fell over.

“I do not!”

“Oh yes you do doll. No shame in being a scaredy cat.”

“Don’t hurt him please. I like Bucky.” Sofia smacked your shoulder and ran to him, playing with the arm along with her siblings and you could whisper your response, smiling when Bucky heard it loud and clear.

“I’ll try not to.”

“Alright that’s it, time to go to bed kids.” Pete bellowed from behind you, shaking his head when all three kids whined. “No buts, come on. You’ll play with Bucky all day tomorrow.” He took all of them and walked up the stairs, leaving you and Bucky washing the dishes as Diane collected the plates.

“I’m really sorry about that,” you whispered to him and he told you not to worry about it.

Pete came downstairs and waited until you were both done before he spoke. The two of you turned around and noticed the way he was staring at Bucky’s arm.

“Didn’t think it was water proof,” Pete said, looking at Diane when she shook her head at the rude comment.

“Dad!” You threw the towel at him and apologized to Bucky again, turning to Pete when she saw the shy smile Bucky threw her way. He was about to speak when Pete cut him off.

“Is this why you never mentioned him Y/N? Because let me tell you somethin’, if you can’t talk about him to your own parents, then you sure as hell don’t deserve him.” The comment took everyone off guard and you must’ve looked as confused as you felt because Pete stepped forward and held onto Bucky’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry what? Wait no no I didn’t tell you about him because of- Ma are you listening to this? I would never make him feel unwanted because of his arm and frankly, I’m hurt you thought I’m capable of doing that.” Bucky’s heart leaped at your words, a part of him hoping this wasn’t you acting to diffuse the tension and that you actually felt this way. “What happened to him was horrible and y’all aren’t stupid. I know you know who he is but that’s not why I never spoke about him. If you think I’m the type of person to be embarrassed from dating a guy with a prosthetic arm then it’s obviously mistake I came.” You didn’t give any of them a chance to reply, walking out the front door towards the barn.

Pete was about to follow you out when Bucky stopped him and told him he got it.

He walked out and looked for you, his eyes taking a while adjusting to the darkness of the countryside. But then he heard you whispering angrily to yourself on a swing, walking towards you and making sure you can hear him so you don’t freak out.

Bucky stopped in front of you, hands in his pockets and trying to look at you. When you didn’t acknowledge his presence, he got on his knees and stopped the swing, hands grabbing your legs and tugging until you looked at him.

“You alright sweetheart?”

“I knew this would happen. Like fuck can I not catch a break from anyone? I love him but he just on my nerves.”

“He just misunderstood.”

“How are you so calm about all of this? I knew you and I don’t exactly get along but that doesn’t mean I’ll just standby while someone says shit like that.”

“Awww doll that must be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me...besides openly checking me out upstairs.” Bucky smiled when you rolled your eyes and avoided him. You completely forgot about what happened in your room and you were about to get snarky when you saw your parents walking towards you.

You all stared at each other and said nothing until your mom elbowed Pete.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said...and that we shouldn’t go to sleep angry with each other. So I apologize.” He said robotically but you knew he meant it.

“And for the record, I didn’t tell you about him because of something else.”

“You don’t gotta explain sweetheart. We only want him to feel welcomed.”

“I am Diane, believe me. Your daughter here knows that when I don’t like somethin’, I make sure everyone knows. Ain’t that right dollface?” He pulled you into his arms and you nodded, suddenly feeling overwhelmed because of his cologne.

On your way back into the house, your mom asked Bucky if he could show her how to use a shotgun since Pete never wanted to give her one and he said he’d gladly do it, laughing and running away when you and Pete told him to not fucking dare.

You bid everyone good night and went up to your room, avoiding Bucky until it was absolutely necessary to talk to him. You walked into the bathroom to change and calm your nerves, giving yourself a pep talk before unlocking the door.

Bucky was already on the bed, shirtless and writing in his journal.

“Can you at least put a shirt on?”

“I run hot darling.” He said nonchalantly, groaning when you stepped over him to get to your spot.

“Why do you get to sleep on the edge?”

“Why are you being a child right now? Just admit it and we’ll be good.” He shut his journal and placed it on the nightstand, pushing your leg so he can throw the covers over the two of you.

“Admit what?”

“That you find me irresistible.” Bucky winked at you, chuckling when you turned around and tried to ignore him.

“Oh god you’re so full of it.”

“Come’re, it’s gonna get cold at night and you’re right below the window.” He whispered, pulling your waist until your back was right against his chest. You said nothing, trying to calm your heart so he doesn’t get any ideas. But then he wrapped his arm around your stomach, his breath fanning over your neck and causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin.

It was a while later when you heard his snores. As much as you hated it, you loved this, loved the feeling of his arms against you and the solid chest rumbling behind you. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. You were sleeping like a baby not long after and although you wouldn’t tell him, it was the best night’s sleep you had in a long time.

You woke up the next day to an empty bed, looking out the window when you heard the kids screaming. Bucky was running after them with a water hose and he was drenched from head to toe. Getting ready, you walked downstairs and grabbed the cup of coffee your mom placed in front of you.

“Aren’t you proud I’m adulting now?” She smiled at you and shook her head, telling you she was always proud of you.

“I gotta ask’ya something and I don’t want you to get mad. Are y’all safe?” You almost spat out the coffee at her question, telling her to not worry about it.

“No no I don’t mean that. I mean...your line of work sweetheart. Do I have to worry?” You were touched by her question and walked around the kitchen island to hug her.

“We got each other’s backs ma. The whole team, Bucky and I. We work well together. Don’t you worry alright?” You kissed her cheek and told her you’ll call the kids in so they can have their breakfast. When you walked out and saw them, you told them they can play after they ate, completely missing what Bucky was doing.

As soon as they walked through the door, you turned around and saw the look Bucky was giving you. You didn’t have time to say anything, the water hitting your entire body a second later. You started running around trying to avoid him but he was much faster, tackling you to the muddy ground and making a mess,

“I’m going to kill you.” You tried to say with a straight face but he was tickling you, laughing and putting a thumbs up to the kids who were staring at you through the window. “They were in on this too?”

“Yup. They thought it’d be really funny.” He said, throwing mud at your neck and smearing it everywhere.

“Ughhh I don’t miss this.” You pretended to grab for your shirt and used Bucky’s distraction to take the hose and aim it at him. And that’s how the entire day went, with you and Bucky running after Lucas and Sofia while Riley stood to the side flying her kite. Around dinner time, you were completely exhausted, glad that all three of them were tired enough to eat and go to sleep. It took you and Bucky a long time to convince them to shower and when they noticed the two of you were going to do so as well, they agreed and followed your mom to their room.

“I’ll be quick.” You told Bucky, turning around when he didn’t respond. He walked into the bathroom and turned the hot water on, completely ignoring your questions and walking out when he felt it was the right temperature.

“Why didn’t you tell me Pete wasn’t your dad?” You were surprised by the question, sitting on the edge of the tub and ringing your fingers. “He’s as much of a dad as the other one.”

“When did he pass away?” He kneeled in front of you, resting his hands on your knees and drawing circles to distract you.

“A while back. When I was in college. But I never felt like he was gone you know. Pete was everything he was. Probably as kind which is really hard for me to say because my dad was so kind. Too kind as a matter of fact. But Pete is amazing and-”

“You don’t have to talk about it Y/N.” Bucky cut you off when he saw you tearing up. You nodded and awkwardly smiled at him, telling him the hot water would run out if you didn’t shower.

“We can always conserve water and shower together.” Bucky was being cheeky and you knew he was just joking but you almost took him up on the offer. He walked out and shut the door behind him, leaving you emotional and confused in the middle of your bathroom.

And as hard as you tried to convince yourself that Bucky wasn’t Lance, you couldn’t find it in yourself to talk to him about your potential feelings.

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Love Me Before You Leave

Fandom: Queen/ Bohemian Rhapsody

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: Ben Hardy! Roger Taylor X reader ( can be read as actual Roger Taylor)

TW: swearing, angsty

Genre Angst with a fluffy ending

Word Count:3.4K

Requests: OPEN

A/n: So, I wrote this for @queens-n-roses  2K writing challenge, written to the song ‘Love Me Before You Leave’ By COmmon Kings. I am so sorrI am late posting this, school work has been crazy. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Want you to love me before you leave

Let me hold you before you go

Just remember the time we shared and remember you touched my soul We don't know where life will take us I'll hold my breath and be patient So won't you love me before you leave

"Morning, baby." Roger hummed against your neck, arm thrown lazily over your hip. You tensed as his lips brushed your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Hey, Roger." You mumbled, shifting out of his grip quickly.

"Everything okay?" Roger asked quietly, sitting up, confused as to why you'd parted from him so suddenly.

"Yeah. Just feeling a bit off, that's all." You lied smoothly, pulling a shirt over your head. "I need to get to work, I'm gonna be late."

"Come cuddle with me. Let me hold you before you go." Roger whined, making grabby hands at you. You let out a heavy sigh, guilt climbing through your veins, before stepping over into his waiting arms.

Roger was worried. You hadn't been acting like yourself for a few weeks. You'd stopped coming to the studio, refused to see his friends, cancelled date night as much as possible and you were cold and distant. Something wasn't right. He'd tried getting through to you, but it was like talking to a wall. He missed you. And it made him more anxious about the ring that was hidden in his sock drawer. Your head rested on his chest, listening to his gentle heartbeat. Tears burned the back of your eyes as his hand moved to rest on your stomach.

"You need to head to the studio." You said weakly, climbing from his arms. He grabbed your wrist before you could get off the bed.

"Darling, what's going on? You've been acting odd" Roger sounded so concerned, it only made it harder for you to hide your tears.

"Everything is fine, Rog. I promise." You huffed, carefully working your wrist from his fingers, wandering over to the closet to finish getting ready.

"Baby I just... alright. If you say so. I'm going to get ready." Roger shook his head, getting up and throwing on the outfit that had been abandoned in the corner. You swiped at your eyes before beginning to apply some makeup. Roger glanced at you, clearly distressed, placing a kiss on your cheek and walking out. The door to the house slammed shut behind him and you rushed into action. You tugged a bag and two boxes from under your bed, quickly chucking any clothes and belongings in sight. Tears began pouring from your eyes. Sobs escaped your chest as you packed. You left an hour later, a singular note on the fridge.

Every moment with you Been perfect for me & baby you're telling me that we could never be And now I'm like Cool it down, cool it down, take a minute You say you have to go But yesterday your heart was in it My love Oh woah oh Let me say what I need to say

"I just don't know what's wrong. I've tried everything with no proper response." Roger placed his face in his hands, all the boys watching him sadly.

"Maybe you've chosen the wrong words? We all know you're not exactly subtle."Brian offered, trying to make his friend feel better.

"I'm starting to feel to wonder if she even wants to be with me." Roger declared, feeling his eyes water at the thought.

"Are you kidding? She looks at you like you've hung the stars and the moons in the sky." Freddie replied quickly, placing a hand on the drummer's shoulder.

"She means the world to me. I don't want to lose her." The band had never heard Roger so lost. So heartbroken.

"I know, Roger. But it's hard for her. She's not used to this kind of life." Deaky reasoned, knelt in front of his friend.

"You guys will be okay. It's just going to take a bit of time and a lot of love." Freddie added. Roger sighed heavily, scrubbing the tears from his eyes.

"Thanks, guys. C'mon, enough of the sappy shit. Let's make some music." Roger stated, running a hand through his hair. getting up and heading to the drum risers.

"I don't think Roger's doing as well as he acts," Brian muttered in a hushed tone, pulling the guitar strap over his head, adjusting the tightness of it.

"No, he's not. But we know he won't open up any more than he already has All we can do is be there for him when he needs it." Deaky sighed, already tuning his bass.

"Roger's not stupid. Most of the time. He'll come to us if he needs us." Freddie chipped in before waltzing over to the piano.

"I'll call (Y/N) later. See if she'll talk." Brian said voice laced with worry.

"Let me know how it goes, okay?" Deaky asked, ignoring how Roger began pounding at his drums and how Freddie magically formed a rhythm to the randomized, sporadic drumming.

"Yeah, course. C'mon Deaks, let's go before Freddie hangs us."

"(Y/N), I'm home!" Roger called as he opened the door, slipping his shoes off and hanging his coat by the door, sunglasses perched on his head.

"(Y/N)?" Roger made his way to the living room, noticing the lack of fo light. He jogged to the kitchen, soon spying the note on the fridge. He was expecting something like you were going out with friends. He didn't expect a note reading:

'I'm sorry Roger. We both know this wouldn't work. I love you. -Y/n'

Roger's eyes began leaking, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, dread coursing through him. His feet couldn't move fast enough as he raced to the bedroom. The drummer felt his knees give out, falling onto the bed when he saw the room barren of your belongings. He buried his face in his hands, sobs wracking his body.

And now I'm like Cool it down, cool it down, take a minute You say you have to go But yesterday your heart was in it My love Oh woah oh Let me say what I need to say

"Roger, what's wrong?" Brian asked, unease pouring into his voice at the sounds of his friend hiccuping.

"She's gone, Bri. She's gone." He cried, fingers tugging at his blonde locks.

"Who's gone?" Brian pushed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulled on his shoes, getting ready to leave the studio with Deaky and Freddie.

"Is Roger okay?" Freddie mouthed, shrugging on his coat. Brian shook his head, taking the phone back between his fingers.

"(Y/N)," Roger answered shakily, holding the phone tightly.

"(Y/N)? Have you tried calling her parents or Freddie's? Or her friends?" Brian suggested, feeling the eyes of his bandmates boring into him.

"No. She left a note saying we can't be together. I-I just the thought - I should've realized- fuck, I'm the worst boyfriend ever!" Brian could hear the anger and self-depreciation seep into Roger's voice.

"Roger, calm down. I think something isn't right with (Y/N). She adores you. Just hold on, I'm coming over." The guitarist sighed before placing the phone down. Brian jumped into action, grabbing his keys.

"I'll come with you. I just need to call Veronica. I'll catch up." Deaky exclaimed as Brian dashed down the hall.

"You need to find (Y/N), Freddie. She's your cousin if anyone knows where she'll be, it's you." Deaky informed the singer as he began dialling his houses number.

"On it. I'll find her darling, don't worry." Freddie responded before exiting to his car.

Want you to love me before you leave Let me hold you before you go Just remember the time we shared and remember you touched my soul We don't know where life will take us I'll hold my breath and be patient So won't you love me before you leave And let me hold you before you Go oh, Oh woah oh, oh woah And let me hold you before you Go oh

You didn't visit your aunt, uncle and cousin very often. Only when you needed advice and right now, you needed as much advice as you could get. With a heavy breath, you knocked on the door, wiping at your eyes one last time.

"Oh, (Y/N)! It's so good to see you." Your aunt exclaimed, bringing you into a tight hug.

"Hi, Auntie. Good to see you too. Is Kash here?" You questioned, giving her a forced smile.

"She's just upstairs in her room. Say hello to your uncle before you say hello to Kash." She replied, leading you through the house to the kitchen, where your uncle was sitting, reading the newspaper.

"Ah, (Y/N). How's that boy treating? How's Farrokh?" Your uncle greeted softly, glancing at you over his glasses. You paused.

"Everything's amazing, uncle. Freddie's doing well, his band is phenomenal. And R-Roger treats me like a goddess." You choked out twirling the promise ring Roger gave you anxiously.

"Good. I wouldn't expect that kind of treatment from a boy like him." He said with a raised eyebrows.

"I'm going to talk to Kash. I'll talk to you guys later." You gave another fake smile before wandering upstairs to your cousin's room. Your soft knocking echoed through the dim corridor, which was soon answered by your youngest cousin, Kashmira.

"Oh, hi (Y/N). You okay?" Kash questioned and you shook your head, biting your lip nervously.

"Can we talk about this in your room?" You requested softly.

"Of course. C'mon in." Kash mumbled, opening the door to reveal her bed, a mountain of homework piled upon it.

"You look busy." You chuckled, weakly, taking a seat on her desk chair as she perched on the edge of the bed.

"Just a little. Anyways, what's up?" She enquired, resting her hands in her lap.

"I...I left Roger this morning..." You confessed, eyes fixed on the ground.

"You did what?" Kash uttered, eyes wide. "Why?"

"I-I just- I saw something that made me think we're not good together. An article saying I was dragging him down. I don't want to be an anchor." You explained, twisting your ring again.

"Did you seriously believe an article? Hun, you know that the media just wants to stir drama about Queen and its members. Freddie's had it so many times." Kash stood up and took your hands, running her thumbs over them calmingly.

"I know that, but they're right. I'm nothing like Roger. And every day there's a new way of dragging him down." You defended, beginning to feel tears burning the backs if your eyes.

"What do you mean by that?" She pushed cautiously, tilting your head up to her.

"I-I-we-he's..." You began, choking on air as a tear made its way down your cheek, Kash held your cheeks gently.

"(Y/N), darling, breathe. C'mon. In and out." She guided quietly, letting you calm down. After a few minutes, you took a deep breath.

"I-I'm pregnant. A-And I don't know if R-Roger wants a kid or-or if he even sees a future with me. I'm not sure if I can be a mom." You were panicking, heart beating in your ears so loud that you didn't hear the door open.

"Kash, what's going on?" Freddie asked, surprised to see his cousin falling apart in his sister's arms.

"Maybe you should talk to her, Fred. I'll be downstairs with mama and papa if you need me."Kash muttered, allowing Freddie to scoop you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. You buried your face in his neck, tears soaking the turtle neck he wore. Kash closed the door behind her, giving you some privacy.

"Now dear, what are the waterworks for?" Freddie asked, voice delicate as he began running his fingers through your hair.

"Freddie, I'm pregnant and-and I know that Roger probably doesn't even want a kid and doesn't see a future with me and I don't know if-" You were cut off by Freddie carefully pulling your face from his neck, placing a finger on your lips.

"Now, hush, darling. That's utter nonsense. He thinks the world of you, loves you with every fibre of his being. I've never seen Roger look or act like that with anyone before you. He's whipped. And how do you know that Roger doesn't want a kid? Have you even spoken to him about it?" Freddie shot back, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear and wiping your eyes.

"He's a rockstar. Why would he want anything to do with someone like me?" You asked sarcastically, causing Freddie's lips to quirk up a little at the return of your normal attitude.

"Because you, my darling, are an enigma. Someone that Roger adores beyond words. You're kind, funny, compassionate, understanding and accepting. You've changed Roger for the better." He smiled slightly.

"I-I just need to sleep on it, okay? I'll talk to Roger, promise."

Don't you get what we got? No, we can't be replaced One moment we're holding hands And you leave without a trace

It had taken Brian and Deaky an hour to calm down the hysterical drummer. Roger had gone between sobbing into his friend's shoulder to yelling at himself, to throwing various items across the living room and then back to crying. Eventually, Deaky had managed to settle Roger onto the couch, Brian knelt in front of him, a hand on his knee.

"I don't know why she left. What did I do?" Roger mopped, resting his chin on his hand.

"I'm not sure, Roger. Freddie's gone to find her, bud. He'll talk to her." Deaky placed some water in front of the blue-eyed drummer, resting on the armrest of the couch.

"I... I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Want to marry her, have kids with her. All that. I love her." Roger blurted out, yanking a jewelled ring from his pocket and twirling it between his fingers. Deaky's eyes widened with Brian's.

"You really mean that?"Brian questioned.

"No, of course, I don't. That's the whole fucking reason I've got a ring in my hand."Roger snapped miserably. All heads snapped in the direction of the door as it opened, Freddie stood in the doorway.

"So, did you find her?" Brian asked, eyebrows raised and eyes still widened in shock.

"She's with my parents and my sister. She's going to stay there for a night or two to think things over then she'll come to talk to you." Freddie commented, folding his arms, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Did she tell you why she left?" Roger enquired sadly.

"She did indeed, but I think it's something she needs to tell you herself."

You know that I love you as hard as I try I'll never get over your baby blue eyes You know that I love you as hard as I try I'll never get over your baby blue eyes

You tossed and turned that night, restlessly. Every time you closed your eyes, he was there, memories flashing behind your eyelids, like a personal movie. Your arm held your stomach protectively as you tried to get some rest, but it was all pointless.

"Get off!" Roger exclaimed between giggles as your fingers prodded at his sides, your legs straddling his waist. His bandmates watched with joy as you tickled the blonde-haired boy.

"Not until you say that I won!" You screeched, letting out a loud laugh as Roger flipped you over.

"Never." He whispered in your ear before digging his fingers into your stomach. You screamed out a laugh, trying to shove him off of you,

The sun was beating down on you, sunglasses balanced on the end of your nose. You were sat in a beach chair, the boys letting out shouts as they splashed water over each other. Roger had tried to make you join in, to get your nose out of the book you were reading, with no luck. But this time, as he made his way over to you, he couldn't stop his eyes dragging over you. You looked so adorable when you were concentrating, eyebrows furrowed slightly. Your hair had been pulled back into a bun, the wind was blowing a few pieces of escaped hair around your ears. You looked... gorgeous to him. You looked over your glasses at him.

"What you staring at, Rog?" You smiled, placing a bookmark in your book and setting it down as Roger came to kneel beside your chair, pulling your hand into his.

"You. You're so beautiful. I can't believe that I'm the lucky guy who gets to love you." He stated, too awed to realize what he'd said. You froze for a second before letting a grin slide onto your face. That was the first time he'd ever said 'I love you'.

"I love you too, Roger, so much."

You knew that you wouldn't be able to wait an extra day to see Roger. Those ocean eyes would haunt you until the day you died.

Cool it down, cool it down Take a minute you say you have to go But yesterday your heart was in it, my love

Roger looked like a mess when he opened the door to your house. Probably as bad as you did. His eyes were red, bloodshot and puffy, he had bags under his eyes and his clothes were messy. If he only looked like that after one night, you were concerned about what would happen if you left for over a week.

"Oh, (Y/N), hey." Roger murmured, moving out of the way so you could walk in.

"Hi, Roger. Can we talk?" You asked quietly, stepping inside, heading towards the living room. Roger closed the door with a soft click and followed after you, sitting on the couch opposite you, nodding silently.

"So you probably have some questions..." You started but before you could continue, Roger had already begun asking questions.

"Why did you leave? Did I do something wrong?" Roger was giving you puppy eyes, messed hair hanging in front of his bright eyes.

"You... you did nothing wrong, love. I panicked and I ran. I shouldn't have done it and I'm so sorry." You tried, but Roger narrowed his eyes, but not with anger, for once.

"Do you really mean that? About us not being good together? That we won't work."He continued, holding the note between his fingers.

"I just... I just think that I'm dragging you down. You don't deserve that. You're a rockstar. I'm just a nobody." You sighed, averting your eyes to your hands.

"Why would you say that? You're not dragging me down, at all, darling. You're my entire world. How could you think anything different?" He was shocked and immediately came to sit beside you, holding your hand tightly.

"There was something in the newspaper about how .... how I was just a long term distraction and that you were young and deserved to be free.." You blurted and Roger's grip tightened.

"Darling, you know that they like spreading lies and rumours. You're in no way dragging me down. I promise. I love you so much, you know that." Roger insisted and you looked away.

"I love you too, Roggie. I have something to ask you, though." You were trembling now, hands shaking violently in Roger's grasp.

"So do I, love. You go first." Roger gave you a small, reassuring smile, kissing your hand softly.

"H-have you ever thought about kids, Rog? With me?" You couldn't focus your eyes on one spot, and Roger noticed. But his own eyes filled with hope.

"Of course I have. I have dreams about it, baby girl. A little boy or girl with rosy cheeks, blue eyes and (Y/H/C) hair." Roger chuckled, cupping your cheek.

"Roger, I'm preg-" Before you could finish your sentence, Roger brought you into a passionate kiss. He placed your joint hands onto your stomach. After a second, Roger pulled back, a grin on his face.

"That's the best news I've heard all year, my love." He pressed another kiss to your lips.

"Really?" You couldn't keep your eyes off him.

"Of course, baby. Now I have a question for you." He replied, letting go of your hand to pull the ring from his pocket. "You're the light of my life. I am a mess without you and I don't want to imagine another day without you. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" His eyes held so much love and you felt like you couldn't breathe. Tears sprung to your eyes once more, but this time, they weren't tears of sadness.

"Yes."

Want you to love me before you leave Let me hold you before you go Just remember the time we shared and remember you touched my soul We don't know where life will take us I'll hold my breath and be patient So won't you love me before you leave And let me hold you before you go

Tags: @writingfortoomanyfandoms @yourealegendfred @fierce-bab @dusthas-beenbitten@silvver-rose @benhardyjones @bensroger

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Fix You 10

A/N: Rewrite. This series doesn’t follow the show. Sorry, its been forever since this has been updated!!!! 

Link to Chapter 9

Words: 2,797

Pairings: Gabriel  x Reader

________

Meanwhile,

Lucifer sat in a small cafe with a bottle of whiskey in front of him. He was enjoying watching the drunken humans make total fools of themselves.

“Having fun?”

He looked up to see none other then Anael looking down at him. Lucifer gave him his best pouty smile.

“Awe, did you miss me?”

Anael rolled her eyes before sitting down.

“Hardly, I am only here because I have news that could be of some use to you.”

Lucifer put a hand on his heart acting like he was having a heart attack.

“Oh, you are so hurtful! You are breaking my poor little heart! Now that I have gotten that out of my system, what do you have to tell me?”

Anael rolled her eyes. As much as she hated dealing with Lucifer at the moment it was good news to share. Lucifer's voice interrupted her thoughts,

“Did you find my kid? Please tell me that you did because I am getting a little impatient and you know how me and impatience don't go well together.”

Anael focused her cat-like gaze on the prince of darkness before speaking.

“No, regrettably, I was unable to locate your child as you asked. I do, however, know that you have other family that you could use.”

Lucifer scowled before slouching down in his chair.

“I doubt whatever you have to say isn't going to make me happy. You’re a party pooper.”

Anael rolled her eyes.

“You have a niece and I think she would be of some interest to you. The angels are really concerned about her.”

Lucifer's eyes widened.

“A niece, huh? Well, look at that some other angel has been bad too! Why should I care about some other Nephilim when I have my own kid to worry about?”

Anael smiled.

“Because she is half Nephilim and half archangel.”

Lucifer sat up straighter, looking clearly confused.

“Half Archangel? What is Michael and Raphael up to?”

Anael smirked.

“It wasn't either of them.”

Lucifer's scowl became more defined.

“It's not possible! Gabriel is dead! I killed him!”

Anael rolled her eyes.

“Not quite. He's alive and kicking. Your niece is five years old and smart! The smartest I have ever seen. She has a lot of potential”

Lucifer looked completely baffled! Gabriel had literally placed him like a fiddle! Lucifer taught Gabriel all of his tricks and now they had been used against him.

“That little son of a bitch played me! He made me feel, feelings! I want you to go get that kid! I want her too!”

Anael snorted.

“Sorry, I am not going after her! I am not foolish enough to go up against Gabriel. He'll kill me when it comes to that child. Not to mention I am kind of concerned about what that child can actually do. If you want her, go get her yourself. I should probably also mention that the child is also being protected by Amara.”

Lucifer stood. He was done listening to this bullshit!

“I'll go find them myself. I swear if you want something done right you have to do it yourself! This time that brother of mine is dying!”

Meanwhile, back with Team Free Will....

“Prove to me that you actually love me and that I can trust you....that's my word.”

Gabriel had to look away from you. There was that disappointed expression that he was given so often. Maybe Loki was right? Maybe he was a failure? He had it all with you before; someone who loved him and relationship should!

You meanwhile, kept your attention focused on Gabriel. His face looked almost hopeless! Even after everything that he had put you through; you still felt pain when you saw that look in his eyes.

“What happened to your face?”

You asked softly. Gabriel’s head snapped up as he thought about the ass beating that Loki had given him.

“Had my ass kicked.”

He said with an embarrassed expression. Your worries expression intensified.

“It’s alright, sugar. It wasn’t the worst thing that has happened to me.”

You didn’t look convinced enough. You walked to Gabriel putting a hand on his cheek healing the bruise.

“Is your grace weak again?”

Gabriel gave you a nervous chuckle.

“Yea, peach. Everything about me is weak apparently.”

Gabriel immediately reached out taking your hands in his.

“It isn’t your fault so please don’t even think of it. Y/n, I’ll sing like a canary if it fixes things between us. I’ll let you know everything you want to know. You want my life story I’ll tell you every grimy detail.”

You were clearly surprised! This was a whole new side to Gabriel. You expected Gabriel to put up a fight or do one of his cunning little jokes. Sitting down on the bed, you patted the place beside you.

“Whatever you want to tell me.”

You said softly. Curiosity was definitely getting the better of you! Gabriel nodded as he joined you on the bed.

30 minutes later, you sat beside Gabriel with your mouth hanging open. Your head was spinning with everything that Gabriel had just told you! For a few moments, you had no idea what to say to him! From hearing about his wreck of a “childhood” to his decision to leave heaven, up to getting his ass kicked by Loki...all of it was hard to hear!

“Gabriel, I...”

He shook his head.

“You don't have to say anything. Hopefully, you can see why I didn't want to go and spill my guts to you. What kind of girl in the right mind would want to be with a guy like me?”

You answered without thinking.

“One that loves you! Why can't you see that? After everything that you have put me through I still love you more than anyone on this earth! I don't trust you right now! I am not about to jump in bed and fuck you. Like I said, you have a lot to make up for. Gabriel, you are not a failure. I don't even want that in your mind.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. How could you say that he wasn't a failure? In his mind, he literally failed at everything he has ever done! He failed at being an archangel and he most definitely failed as a soulmate and father.

“Kinda hard for it not to be.”

You stood up fighting the urge to cuddle him. He looked so hurt and vulnerable! You reached out letting your hand cup his face. Gabriel's golden eyes rolled up to your face.

“Y/n, you don't have to do this.”

You shook your head.

“I'm not doing anything. We are going to get you back to your standard archangel power strength and go from there. That is what WE are going to do. Now I am going to go get our daughter so I can get her back to sleep before she talks Jack's ear off.”

Gabriel smirked.

“Jack wouldn't complain. He's missed her.”

You turned and walked into JoyAnna's room where she sat snoozing on Jack's lap. He looked up with a smile.

“I think she is tired.”

Jack stood up and placed the little girl in your arms. You were pleased to see that he hadn't lost his kind demeanor.

“I'm glad to see you, Jack.”

Jack looked overjoyed.

“Me too. We'll talk later in the morning when Joy wakes up.”

You gave his forearm a pat before turning and going back into your bedroom. Gabriel sat on the bed. He quickly looked up as you put Joy in the middle of the bed.

“She will be out for a few hours.”

You said before laying down as Gabriel turned on his side. He looked down at his daughter's little round face and that guilty feeling came right back! Gabriel had missed her birth and the majority of her first few years.

Looking back up at your face, Gabriel reached out intertwining your hands. To his surprise, you didn't pull away.

“It's going to be okay.”

You whispered softly. Gabriel half smiled. Both of you were unsure whether that statement to be true or not. The most that the two of you could do was hope for the best!

Later in the morning when Joy woke up. She between Gabriel and yourself with a small smile before throwing a leg over Gabriel's side to get out of bed. Joy stopped moving when her father's eyes snapped open.

“Where are you going?”

Gabriel questioned softly. JoyAnna pointed to the door.

“Going to find Jack. Mommy is still sleeping?”

Gabriel nodded.

“Yeah, peach.”

Gabriel carefully turned on his back so JoyAnna could slide out of bed a little easier.

“Don't go getting into anything.”

Gabriel whispered. JoyAnna gave him a knowing smirk. She giggled.

“You're good!”

Gabriel chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“You have no idea, princess. Now go be a good girl.”

A few hours later, Joy sat on the couch with a quantum mechanics book in front of her as she read to Sam. He was totally surprised that the child could sit there and read word for word each sentence and was able to tell him exactly how the subject worked.

“Wow, Joy.”

Sam managed to get out as he looked over at Dean who was half asleep.

“Maybe you should go teach Dean all about it.”

Joy grinned before she slid off of Sam's lap and went over to Dean. Slinging the book against the eldest Winchester's chest, Joy climbed up to join him. Dean jumped awake and looked down as she started to read.

“What are you doing?”

He asked. Joy pointed to the book and gave him the exact expression Gabriel would when dealing with a stupid person.

“I am teaching you something.”

Dean looked down at the book and right away he felt tired again.

“Kid, I will never use this a day in my life.”

Joy smirked.

“Did you watch Cops like I asked you?”

Dean nodded.

“I was doing character building all night.”

The sound of fluttering wings made Dean look around to see none other than Balthazar. Joy immediately jumped off of Dean's lap and went to the angel holding her hands up. Balthazar reached down picking the child up before noticing Sam and Dean. He automatically frowned before giving them a nod and looking back to his granddaughter. Balthazar knew that he could get whatever he wanted from the child.

“Hello there, sweet pea. What's new around here?”

JoyAnna looked like she was about to pop with all of the excitement that had happened in the last day!

“You have missed a lot grandpa! Daddy came back and so did everyone else! Aunty Amara has stepped out for a bit. She said she was going to visit grandpa Chuck. He's a nervous little guy, huh?”

Balthazar's rage began to build at the mere mention of Gabriel being anywhere near his daughter and granddaughter.

“Love, where are your mum and dad?”

As if cued to do so, you walked into the room with Gabriel behind you. You stopped the moment that you saw your father. Turning to Gabriel, you sighed seeing that frown on his face reappear.

Balthazar, meanwhile, put Joy down.

“Sweetheart, why don't you...”

Joy sighed,

“I know, go play! Sheesh, I am missing everything.”

Once JoyAnna was safely out of earshot Balthazar focused his attention on Gabriel.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here? You left and should have stayed gone, Gabriel. You're made a giant mess out of things as it is.”

Gabriel smiled.

“I am here for my family. I don't know what else it looks like.”

Balthazar frowned.

“You are just going to destroy things.”

Your eyes widened as you tried to get between Gabriel and your father.

“Both of you stop! Dad, Gabriel and I have a lot of things to work on and I am not jumping into anything quickly. Gabriel has every right to see his child. I am not stopping that. Besides Joy loves him. I was wrong to keep him from her this long.”

Balthazar was clearly not seeing his daughter's point of view.

“He's just going to hurt the two of you again. It seems that is his talent.”

Dean stepped in clearly having enough! He was tired of being privy to angel relations.

“I'm putting my two cents in. Balthazar, I get where you are coming from because I am concerned too but it is their decision. If you try to keep Y/n and Gabriel apart it's going to backfire on you.”

Dean turned to face Gabriel and yourself.

“You two are going to have to get your shit together and grow up that's all there is to it. You both run when the rough gets going and that has to stop! It isn't fair to Joy or anyone else that has to deal with you both. That is the lesson that Chuck and Amara are trying to drill into your head, Gabriel. Y/n, you know I care about you. You're a great friend and I can't believe that I am saying this but Gabriel has been miserable without you. I am not telling you to go fuck his brains out but listen to him. Asmodeus the asshat may be gone but there are other things that we are going to have to deal with. We can't go up against things like Lucifer and whatever else and expect to live the way that we are going.”

Dean was pleased to see that he had clearly struck a nerve with both of you. You had edged closer to Gabriel and was wrapping your hand around his.

“He's right. Things have to change.”

Meanwhile with Lucifer,

Lucifer stood in front of none other than Michael. His older brother sat behind a large oak desk with his hands crossed.

“Lucifer, whatever can I do for you? I must say that I am shocked that you have come to locate me.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes as he looked at his older brother. The guy left “bizarro world” and his kick-ass vessel to come to this world and be in fucking young John Winchester's vessel.

“Sheesh Michael, you got rid of the cool vessel for a Winchester?”

Michael smirked. The coldness in his eyes sparkled as he gave his younger brother a disapproving scowl.

“My choosing of vessels in my own business. Now like I asked what can I do for you?”

Lucifer shook his head.

“Actually I have a team work propitiation for you.”

Lucifer wanted to choke on his words. The last thing that he wanted to do was team up with Michael but he would need help getting his hands on their little niece. Michael looked intrigued as he sat up straighter.

“And that is? Why would I want to work with you?”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

“Aw, I don't know. I mean it's just a slight issue known as a half Nephilim/half archangel that has come into existence that could totally help us.”

Michael held up a hand.

“Pardon? Half Nephilim/half archangel? What?”

Lucifer nodded feeling a little more excited. The expression on Michael's face was enough to make Lucifer be more amused.

“Gabriel and a Nephilim shacked up and made a baby. I would go after them but poor little ole me is low on grace because of you. I know that you wouldn't want to get your hands dirty...”

Michael slammed his hands down the table.

“Gabriel knows better! You did too when you made a Nephilim and look what happened to you!”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

“Uh yeah, but I really would like to get our niece.”

Michael shook his head.

“The child has to die and so does her filthy half breed mother. Do not harm either of them. I have plans.”

Lucifer was quietly muttering that he should have just started looking himself as Michael again stood.

“What plans?”

Lucifer questioned. Maybe he was going to have to play double agent to finally get Michael killed off and get his hands on his niece.

“I am going to kill them in front of Gabriel and make him watch the light leave their eyes.”

___________

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[theincaprincess]

Shards of a forgotten past

I adopted this little plot bunny from the lovely @sdavid09 "Before Smaug, there was an Elf princess, Thranduil’s twin sister, who fell in love with a dwarf prince (Thorin). When the dragon attacked, she didn’t hesitate to go to the oblivious prince’s aid. What happens when she turns up later to help the company?"

So this is my spin on this plot bunny and because I suck at just writing one chapter this will be a few chapters long haha. 

Thank you to @amyf20 for the cover art darling, it was exactly what I was looking for! 

Also, I am tagging you lot and hope you don’t mind :D  @blankdblank @deepestfirefun @catthefearless @moonfaery @meyoko10 @tolkienprincess @starlightintherain89 @southsidesarcasticwriter  @nikolett3 @j25m18c24 @makingmischiefandcausingtrouble  @letsbeinspiredby @shanty-lol @miabee0706  

Word count 1,855

Pacing up and down the halls of his kingdom he waited for news about his wife, hearing the door open he turned to the small elleth “my lord, it’s a boy” smiling to himself he smiled at her but the smile dropped at hearing his wife scream the elleth turned and ran back in the room closing the door behind her, a few moments later the same elleth opened the door to see the king on his knees “King Oropher, you have a daughter” feeling his mouth growing dry he hoarse voice asked “how?” “Twins my lord, the Queen has given birth to twins, you can come in and see them” raising to his feet Oropher entered the room and turned to his wife who softly smiled at him and looked towards the second elleth holding the babies, holding his hands out he softly asked “may I?” “Of course my lord” handing over the baby boy He saw the pale blue eyes looking up at him “Thranduil” his wife whispered, swapping over he held up the baby girl and smiled at her bright shining blue eyes looking to his wife for her name, she smiled “you can name her Oropher” turning his eyes back to the baby he studied her small frame and wet his lips before speaking “the boy is older?” “Yes my lord” “then she shall be known as Thennith” looking for approval Oropher turned to his wife and saw her eyes shut “love?” He asked handing Thennith to the elleth, sitting on the bed he placed his hand over hers and draw it back at how cold it was “my darling?” He asked once again the panic building in him, the elleth by the door rushed over to his side as the one with the babies placed them in the cot, placing her hand under the Queen's nose she gasped “my lord, your wife, the Queen is dead”

....

Walking though the halls Thennith was on her way to the family dinner, quickly braiding her long platinum blonde hair into an elegant side braid, her father still had no idea she attended archery and sword lesions, Thranduil knew because it was his idea, not wanting to have a weak sister arriving outside the royal wing she straightened her long grown and entered already seeing her brother in his chair holding his wine glass ranting to their father about something “and here is the lamb to the slaughter” Thranduil spoke while smirking at Thennith “we’re vegetarians Thranny” she replied with her own smirk as she knew he hated her nickname for him, kissing her Fathers check she took her seat as Oropher shook his head at the sarcastic comments his children offered each other, “Thranduil, Thennith, as you are aware the young dwarf prince Thorin will be coming of age soon, and I need one of you to go along to represent our kingdom” “Thranduil can go, after all he is the oldest” Thennith replied smirking, “But you are the fairest dear sister” Thranduil smirked back causing her to roll her eyes, “can you two just listen for five minutes” Oropher shouted at the siblings making them both jump at they fathers outburst, “I have decided Thennith, you are going as Thranduil needs to be here, as acting king” sharing a look the siblings looked to their father for an explanation “there is a battle soon to the east and I am taking some of the armies there, I will be gone no longer than 6 months, and that’s my final order, now both of you go get any of your business sorted” “yes father” Thranduil and Thennith said as they rose from their chairs and left their father alone. 

....

Arriving at the front gates of Erebor a few weeks after her father left for the war to the east, Thennith and a few nobles from the woodland realm presented their invitation to the guards and was told where to go, following their instructions the group walked through the halls while the princess studied every inch of Erebor, she had never seen such great craftsmanship and was in awe of the dwarven kingdom, “Thennith focus” the older noblewoman whispered to her while handing her a box “we are to walk up to Prince Thorin, and give him the box, don’t speak to him unless you're spoken to” nodding Thennith turned to face the door “one more thing Thennith a messages from your father, don’t be sarcastic” hearing that she let out a giggle just as the door to the throne room opened. Looking a head at the throne her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the throne room, it was much bigger then she expected tuning her blue eyes over everything the finally landed on the young raven haired prince, sitting proudly in the throne, studying him she watched as his muscled chest rose and fell with his breathing, how his leg was moving up and down, probably due to boredom, she thought to herself and the way he was rubbing his thumb and index finger together, a nervous tick perhaps, getting closer to him she could now see his eyes more clear and when the light hit them the right way they were shining like the rarest sapphires, feeling a soft flutter in her heart she knew that the young dwarf prince was her soulmate, “ may I present Princess Thennith and the nobles of the woodland realm” taking a breath she walked up to Thorin and handed him the box and slightly bowed “thank you” the young prince spoke making her sightly shiver at his deep baritone voice “you’re welcome, Prince Thorin” she spoke flashing her lashes at him “may I present” the older dwarf started as the noble woman pushed her aside, leaving the room the group was making their way to the guest room when one of the guards approached them “Princess Thennith?” “Yes?” “I have a letter for you” taking it from the guard she opened it, and gasped turning to the group “we must return home right away, my father is dead” feeling the world around her closing in, the elven princess fainted.

*years later*

“Pull it back all the way, and visually the target, control your breathing and when your ready to let go, let go” with a swoosh an arrow was released from a bow and landed in the target bullseye with an exhale Legolas turned “I did it Auntie Thennith, I hit the target” “you sure did little leaf, and it’s the longest yet” “Father did you?” “Yes I did, now go back inside and finish your work” Thranduil huffed “but Father....” “Now Legolas” turning to her nephew Thennith smiled “listen to your Father, little leaf we will pick this up later” “I’m not little, I am of age” Legolas protested getting a glare from his father making him rush inside, collecting the bow and arrows Thennith turned to her brother “what has you so grumpy Thranny?” “The  scouts have informed me of a dragon on the move” “a dragon, it can’t be, I thought you killed them all in the north years ago brother” “all but the one who gave me my scar, Smaug the foul beast, they have tracked his movements his on the way to Dale and Erebor” “do the dwarves and humans know?” “No, but we must make our kingdom secure” “Thranduil we have to warn them” “it’s too late Thennith, he’ll be there by daybreak” “then at least gather the army and help them, Father would have done it, and if you don’t warn them, I will!” Listening to his sister Thranduil knew he would be fighting a losing battle, if he kept trying to disagree with her, after all, she was the general of the army, and would take them without his permission nodding Thranduil waved one of the guards over "call all the  nobles to the throne room" waving his hand the guard rushed off,  "I will meet you at the throne room in half an hour Thranduil” Thennith said as she rushed off as well, huffing as he watched his sister run off Thranduil knew he was only doing this because she would have taken the army and probably get herself and them killed walking back into his kingdom he made his way to the throne room, to inform all the nobles and make plans for Legolas to be crown king if anything goes wrong. 

....

Standing at the edge of the cliff she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, Dale was in flames and the dwarves of Erebor were fleeing their kingdom in terror, smoke raising from both city’s was feeling the air making the day dark, and ashes falling like snow, searching the fleeing dwarves with her elven eyesight Thennith felt her heart beating faster she hadn’t seen Thorin yet and started to think the worst till a formally baritone voice hit her ears turning to her left she saw him waving his hands screaming for their help, “Thranduil we must help them” she demanded “why should we dear sister?” Looking at the two city’s in flames Thranduil remembered the night Smaug almost took his life, and he didn’t want a repeat of it, “Thranduil there is a dragon in there, the one that marked you” “and almost took my life, if you haven’t forgotten” Thranduil hissed “they will die!” “And how is that our problem sister?” Thranduil asked coldly. 

Looking back down at Erebor Thennith saw Thorin still waving for help “Thranduil you know my feelings for the Prince” climbing down off his elk Thranduil stood next to his twin sister his icy blue eyes looking over the scene below them, landing on Thorin “what you feel for him is not real sister, it was only a stupid childhood crush” “don’t you dare say that Thranduil, I know how I feel” Thennith turned to face her brother anger flashing in her once bright eyes  “you know nothing of love Thennith” Thranduil snapped at how foolish his sister was, for years she pinned over the dwarf prince, sending him letters but got nothing in return, he spent many nights listing to her crying, and vowed to himself never to see her hurt again and Thranduil was not on the best of terms with the dwarves as they still had not returned his late wife’s necklace, hearing her brother words Thennith starred Thranduil in the eyes as her anger exploded “and neither do you brother, or your wife would still be alive” watching her words hit a nerve in Thranduil she regretted them at once turning to Erebor again as she couldn’t face the painful look she knew would be on her brothers face  “no but I can keep you alive” was the last thing she heard, before feeling the hit to the back of the head “return to our kingdom” Thranduil ordered the army as he pulled his sisters body up and across his elk as Thorin watched them leave, vowing to never trust another elf in his life time.

Part 2

[marisbugs]

dare you (to let me go) | part 3

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: It was just a game you’d been playing for years to no end. After all, you knew each other since forever – since, as you usually said, you happened to be dumb enough not to run away when you had the chance and got stuck with the Shelby family.  playlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Timeline: season 1 – 2-ish.

Word Count: 5,274.

Warnings: Language.

It was well past midday when you found yourself engaged in the long-forgotten activities, running around the street, chasing John’s children and Finn who scattered in different directions, squeaking at the mere sight of you coming closer. They made it their life goal not to let you tag them, and they’d been doing a great job so far, moving like the swiftest horse in a stable, making you work for it, as you became short of breath gradually. Yet, you weren’t one to give up so easily.

Rapidly turning around once again to try to take them by surprise, you noticed Arthur watching you lot from the distance, with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Even from afar, you could tell that he was smiling at you so you smiled back and waved, announcing that you needed a break. The kids gave dissatisfied cries of protest but calmed down quickly as Finn busied them with a game of pat-a-cake.

“How do you feel about helping me out?” You asked with a raise of your eyebrows once you approached him. “Someone needs to teach these kids not to mess with the most famous bulldogs of Small Heath.”

The fact that you still took great pride in that little achievement from your youth years always struck him as endearing, and he smiled broadly once again, shaking his head.

“I think I might be getting too old for this.”

“I’m having the world’s worst hangover, and I’m still in the groove,” you pointed out, crossing your arms, without a hint of false modesty. “So spare me a pity party, grandpa.”

He grunted but looked as if he may be swayed. It had been a long time since he played children’s games and it seemed even longer, but the sight had evoked fond memories of the past he didn’t mind recreating.

“Well, it’s not a kiss chase, but I guess it’ll do…”

“Oh my God,” you couldn’t help laughing at the memory which was as comical as it was embarrassing, “don’t even get me started.”

“Why? I thought you liked it.” He teased.

“You sure you’re not projecting?” You rolled your eyes. “Because I remember how you flapped when Mary from down the street tagged you. You wouldn’t shut up about it for days.”

He was glad he wasn’t eighteen or he just might have blushed. It would have been without doubt embarrassing and just what you wanted.

“Should I remind you of Eddie?” He enquired innocently, raising his eyebrows.

You stared at him blankly.

“We were dating.” Not that it ended on a particularly bright note, however, but that was beside the point.

“So? You started dating after the game.” He looked like he had caught you in some sort of a lie.

You threw your hands up in the air in mild irritation.

“It’s completely irrelevant!” Having decided to end this irksome walk down the memory lane, you hit his arm unexpectedly, shouting “tag, you’re it” before speeding off, alerting the kids on the way so that they could disperse all over the street, while Arthur did what he – among some other things he was not particularly proud of – did best and chased after you.

You had so much fun; it was like you came back in time and became those carefree children you once were, running around the streets of Small Heath, happy, your sides hurting from exercise and laughter. The little ones were on cloud nine, having not one but two adults engaged in their games, since they were usually left to entertain themselves.

“I’m sure you can catch me if you try a little harder, grandpa,” you sing-songed, grinning impishly, while briskly walking backwards, keeping a safe distance between you. The kids giggled. “Fuck!” You cursed loudly as you tripped over your own foot, falling onto a sharp stone that gouged a hole in both your stocking and your knee. Not to mention that you grazed your palms on the ground, and now it felt as if they were on fire. Just your luck. You inwardly cursed the clumsiness you seemed not to have been able to outgrow. You shot a quick glance at the stunned children who stared at you in shock; your vision was a bit blurred. “You haven’t heard auntie say anything, aye?”

They nodded obediently. Before you could muster the courage to stand up, knowing that any movement would bring additional pain, you were promptly lifted up, and a moment later you were clutching the lapels of Arthur’s jacket who had rushed towards you as soon as he saw you fall.

“There is a hole in your knee the size of a penny, and all you worry about is cursing in front of children?” He looked at you incredulously. “They’ve probably heard worse, you know.”

“Yeah, and Polly’s already whipped John’s arse for it, so I’m not eager to follow in his footsteps.” You wrinkled your nose and caught your breath when your raw skin came in contact with the fabric.

He chuckled, but his gaze remained worried and examining.

“We should take a look at those knees,” he suggested, and you nodded silent agreement.

Despite your insistence that a couple of scratches didn’t make you an invalid yet and that you could walk perfectly well, he carried you into the house and sat you on the table for better access to your injuries which now were at his eye level if he kneeled in front of you. Gingerly, he rolled down your cotton stockings, which were now irreversibly ruined with tear, dirt and blood, to inspect how much damage had been done. Just some weeks ago you were doing the same for him; now, it was only fitting that he should return the favour.

You faintly hissed, but you could tell that it probably looked worse than it really was. He, on the other hand, didn’t quite share your optimism.

“This one will scar,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows while lightly touching your knee near where a sharp bit of gravel had left a deep and uneven cut. “It needs to be cleaned and dressed. The other one looks fine.”

The news didn’t bother you. Unlike many, you didn’t mind scars. You had had your fair share of accidents to grow accustomed to them. At this point they acted as mildly annoying reminders of your general inelegance. You knew for sure that Arthur himself had quite a few. But then again, he was a man. Somehow, it made having scars more appropriate, and you wondered how strongly for whatever reason such things depended on a person’s sex.

“Do you have anything to disinfect it with?” you enquired, turning your head left and right to spot anything useful. He thought for a moment.

“I believe there should be a bottle of rum in my desk. Just give me a second.” It was going to hurt like hell, but you didn’t have much choice except bracing yourself for the inevitable.

Arthur came back with the bottle, the last few remnants of the alcohol sloshing in the bottom, and a bowl of water to clean the scrapes and the cut.

“I guess somebody must have raided my stash,” he announced peevishly, placing the bowl on the table beside you.

“It’s hardly a ‘stash’ when everyone knows where you keep it.” You smirked despite the burning in your knee. “And are you sure it wasn’t just you in your most forgetful disposition?”

“Contrary to what you might believe, I keep track of my alcohol consumption,” he deadpanned.

“Oh really?” You laughed, gesturing at the almost finished bottle with a wet piece of cloth you were washing your cuts and grazes with. “Surely looks like it. Anyway, this should be enough.”

“I reckon.” He nodded and opened the bottle. Despite a bothersome itch on your palms, you clenched onto the table top in anticipation of what was coming, and there it was a second later – an instant, sharp burn of alcohol meeting the raw flesh. You winced, panting deeply, and bit your lips bloody to prevent yourself from groaning. Not for the first time in your life, you wished you had a higher pain tolerance. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, softly blowing on the cut. He placed a calming hand to your white knuckles. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Catching your breath, you tried to sound as nonchalant as possible and offered him a smile as a sign that you were doing just fine, given the circumstances. “I’ve had worse.”

“You’re telling me.” His lips twitched upwards at the corners as he looked up at you. “You were one fast but damn clumsy kid. Always wanted to keep up with us boys.”

“I did my best to keep your egos from overstretching.” The hint of a smile lingered on your face as you reminisced on the past memories. “Last time I got hurt playing a game, you were so damn angry,” you said then thoughtfully, furrowing your brow in slight puzzlement which came over you at the recollection.

His face clouded over as he thought back to the day you were referring to. The images in his head were still vivid as if it was yesterday.

“Because it was stupid,” was all he said. Such terseness was way more typical of a post-war Tommy and in Arthur’s case meant that something was stirring him up. He stood up and picked up the bottle, emptying the last drops on your scratched palms, which made you whimper with a twinge of pain. After that, he lowered it on the table and looked you up and down examiningly.

“It wasn’t exactly my fault,” you pointed out, bringing your hands to your mouth to blow on them to soothe the stinging feeling. “Those sacks of wool were sitting there forever.”

“Except for that day you decided to drop yourself on them.” His relaxed yet stern expression was deeply unsettling, and you felt the childish need to win the argument you had lost once already.

“As if you haven’t done anything stupid for a dare,” you grumbled, dressing the cut before pulling up the stockings. The way he had hauled you over the coals bothered you to that day even though you’d remembered it now by pure chance.

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair in an unconscious gesture.

“I do stupid things every day. It doesn’t mean you should too.”

“I thought we’d already cleared it up that you can’t tell me what to do.” It sounded way harsher than you intended, and you immediately regretted it, wishing that you had bitten your tongue. Still, you meant it; you were free to make any choice possible whether he or anybody else liked it or not.

“I’m yet to meet anyone who bloody can,” he grunted, then stared at you for several long moments, contemplating. He spoke slowly, weighing his words. “I was so fucking mad that day because it was the first time I’d come near to losing someone since mum died.” He chewed on his cheek, uncomfortable with his unplanned confession. It wasn’t something he spoke of freely: it was too much too handle and revealed more than he’d like. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you the way I did. It was just that… You didn’t even think about it. You just jumped.” He looked bewildered; he still couldn’t understand what had got into you. Granted, you were bold but never reckless. “You could have died.”

Your expression drastically changed into one of sorrow, and you mentally kicked yourself for not putting it together sooner. You must definitely be thick, and now you were feeling guilty as hell.

“But I didn’t,” you reminded him in a soft voice and cautiously slid off the table, trying not to bend your knee so that you wouldn’t mess up the bandage. He moved to help you, but, with a wave, you indicated that it was all right, so he just shifted in an ungainly manner and stayed where he was.

“You could have,” he repeated with conviction, probably because he didn’t quite know what else to say and not saying anything at all felt too awkward after such a rare instance of emotional honesty.

It took you several seconds longer to close the short distance between you as you were moving slower than usual, but you managed and looked up at him with a warm little smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“I know it was stupid, and I shouldn’t have done it, and Peter could have just shoved it – bold of him to assume that I would back out just because I’m a girl, by the way,” you rapidly uttered, rolling your eyes in revived annoyance. “But you know what? I was never afraid of anything when you were around.” You traced an almost healed cut under his eye with a light touch and broadened your smile as you let your hand linger on his cheek. “It hasn’t changed.”

He swallowed.

“You’re putting too much faith in me.”

He didn’t forget how helpless he felt then, the thought of you dying on his watch made his blood chill, filling him with dread he would have liked not to experience ever again but somehow seemed to be almost constantly forced to since everything went to shit both in the country and in the family. He wasn’t a feeble man by nature; he had just been feeling more and more useless lately. He didn’t see how he could possibly save anyone if he was doing such a miserable job for himself.

As he wouldn’t meet your gaze, you tilted your head a bit and lifted his chin with your free hand. He reluctantly locked his eyes with yours, and all you could see there was confusion, struggle and somewhat too much like despair.

Your heart ached.

“You have never let me down,” you said, and so did his.

He would have laughed at the bitter irony if he didn’t think that you might just punch him in the face.

“Now that most definitely can’t be the truth,” he chuckled.

“Are you accusing me of lying?” You raised your eyebrows, smiling that damned smile of yours that did unspeakable things to his stomach, with you being none the wiser.

“No.” Thinking that perhaps he wouldn’t feel as if he was being gutted if he didn’t have to see you, he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. “Maybe you don’t know me like you think you do.”

Every now and then, he toyed with the idea of what might have been if it was actually meant to be.

“Maybe I just know you better than you know you.”

As your eyes met once again, it very much felt like it was. He placed his hands on your hips both to steady you just in case and to keep you close for a while longer.

The residual buzz in your head moved down to your stomach. An infinite number of possibilities flashed right before your eyes in a split second, causing an unprompted increase in your heart rate. And you didn’t even have to do anything except to lean just a bit forward…

“No, I won’t!”

“You will.”

“No!”

Katie stuck out her tongue at her brother who looked extremely distressed by whatever she must have told him before the kids barged into the house. You took a considerable step back promptly, turning your attention to the children and away from what it shouldn’t be focused on. You felt a faint blush creep up your cheeks.

“What’s the matter?” You asked firmly, trying to hide your embarrassment. Arthur rubbed his nose briefly before digging his hands in his pockets.

Little George ran to you and clutched your leg, which made you wince in pain. Puzzled and worried, you looked between him and Katie who was now sheepishly poking the wooden floor with her toe.

“I don’t want to become a midge,” he mumbled, with his face pressed into your ankle.

“What?” Your brows furrowed, and you glanced at Arthur who just shrugged, looking mildly amused.

The child sniffed.

“I swallowed a midge, and Katie said that now I’ll turn into one.” He sounded as if he was on the verge of crying. “But I didn’t mean to! I don’t want to!”

“Oh, George, you won’t turn into a midge.”

“Really?” Detaching himself from your leg, he looked up at you for confirmation, with his eyes full of hope and unspilt tears. You smiled.

“Really,” you assured him, tousling his hair. “It’s absolutely impossible no matter what Katie says.” You sent a strict look her way, and her gaze hit the floor. “You shouldn’t fool your brother like that. It isn’t nice.”

“Yes, Aunt Y/N,” she said. Then she risked a glance at you. “How’s your knee?”

“It’s fine, thank you.” You smiled widelier, touched by the child’s concern. “Your uncle helped me great deal. Soon, it’ll be as good as new.”

Katie nodded, and then both children disappeared into the street to join the others. You let out a loud sigh, watching them go, and raised your palm to your forehead.

“I have no idea how Polly even do that.”

“Do what?” Arthur had spoken for the first time since you were interrupted.

“Raising a second generation of Shelbys. I would have long gone off the rails by now.”

“Who says she hasn’t?” He joked, getting an elbow to his ribs from you as a warning to watch it, which he just shrugged off. “Anyway, it seems like you have a magic touch.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed in disbelief, but he knew he was right. Seeing you handling John’s children left no doubt in his mind that you could manage anything thrown your way.

It also made him wonder.

△ ▽

“I can’t believe you eloped.” You shook your head, bringing a cup of freshly brewed tea to your lips. “A little heads-up would’ve been nice.”

Ada laughed at that but gave you an apologetic look, placing her hands on her already protruding belly.

She had been hesitant to let you in at first, but you persisted in knocking, not showing any signs that you were about to give it up any time soon, so she had to give in or else you would have alarmed all the neighbours. You told her that you’d got the address from Polly and swore that her brothers didn’t know where she lived now or that you were going to visit. That seemed to calm her enough to actually invite you for a cup of tea and an overdue girl’s chat.

“Sorry. Next time,” she joked, but then her face fell.

“Troubles in paradise?” You guessed.

She nodded.

“We kind of fell out,” she huffed. “And the fact that I’m getting as large as Charlie’s barge doesn’t make me feel any happier.”

“You’ll get there,” you tried to reassure her. “You love each other, don’t you?”

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell,” she grumbled. “But yeah, I believe we do.”

You smiled.

“Then you both and the baby will be just fine.”

Hugging her belly, she posed an unexpected question.

“Will you?”

“You know me.” You shrugged. “I’ll manage.”

Ada furrowed her brow in concentration and bit her lip.

“Thank you, by the way, for saying what you said to me then. At the time, it felt as if you were the only one who didn’t push me to make the decision they wanted and not the decision I needed.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you argued. “In the end, you figured it all out yourself.”

She shook her head.

“For a second there, Polly had me convinced it would be for the better.”

“Polly is a smart woman, but even she doesn’t know everything,” you said.

“I would have most likely gone with it if Freddie hadn’t shown up when he did.” Ada paused. Her bottom lip quivered, but she quickly pulled herself together. “Then I would have never been able to look him in the eye ever again.”

“So it’s Tommy who you need to thank then,” you pointed out with a small smile.

“Like hell,” she said with a snort of laughter. “He is the reason Freddie’s barely talking to me, and when he does, he calls me a fucking Shelby even though I’m a bloody Thorne now.”

“I’m sure he would be very pleased to hear that he doesn’t need to see you to get under your skin.” You laughed lightly as well. “He may be worried he’s losing his touch.”

Ada rolled her eyes.

“You’re so lucky you’re an only child you don’t even know it.”

That made you snort skeptically.

“Doesn’t actually feel like it. Since almost every man assumes your brothers will act like mybrothers and will cut them to pieces and throw them in the cut or something.” There was a time when that fact drove you up the wall, but you had long come to terms with it since then. Now you found it only slightly irritating – like an annoying itch that wouldn’t go away no matter what. “Most of the time, if I really want to have some action, I have to go to places where no one has heard of them. And nowadays, there aren’t so many here in Birmingham.”

“Now you know my pain.” She sighed, but then a smile beamed from her face. “So tell me how they are.”

You felt a smile tugging at your lips despite your will. Ada would never admit it, but she missed her family, and that was one of the reasons why you were actually here. Well, that and the fact that you missed her as well. After all, Ada was your friend too.

“Oh, same old, you know. Finn wants to be just like his brothers, which drives Pol crazy when Tommy doesn’t. John seems a bit troubled from time to time, but he lets on that everything’s all right, so it’s really hard to guess if something’s bothering him or if he’s just in low spirits. As for Tom – well, you know how he is now. Even Tommy doesn’t know what’s going on in Tommy’s head anymore.” You shrugged. Leaning forward with a mysterious smile on your lips, you dropped your voice like a conspirator sharing top secret information. “I think he may be in love.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Ada shrieked, giving you a skeptical look, but clapped her hands in excitement. “Who on earth with?”

“Grace the barmaid,” you said. “But these are only my speculations, nothing concrete there. Tommy’s hard to read, so it might just as well be what he claims it is, which is nothing.”

“But you don’t believe it,” she guessed.

“Well, he did change the topic all too swiftly when I tried to call him out the other night.” You laughed a short laugh, shaking your head a little. “You can imagine how well it went.”

Ada giggled.

“It’s about damn time,” she said. “If we’re lucky enough and he doesn’t screw this up, maybe he’ll stop being such a pain in the arse.” Then, seemingly having remembered something, she looked at you with a knowing smile. “I hear the boys have bought the Garrison, and someone’s got a generous offer.”

“Hell if I know how it happened,” you said with a laugh. “One minute I’m being scolded like a naughty child, and the next – promoted to a half-pub owner.”

“I know very well how,” she smirked. “The only surprise here is that Arthur didn’t pop the other question while he was at it.”

“Ada!” you exclaimed in amazement. You wondered if you’d ever hear the end of it.

“What?” she enquired, tilting her head in mock innocence.

You shot her a pointed stare.

“Stop it.”

“Sorry, I can’t,” she deadpanned. “I happen to have eyes and not to be a complete moron. You two, on the other hand…” She gave you a masterly eye-roll. “Helpless.” Her words had definitely irked you, and you sighed heavily, which prompted her to send you an almost pitying look. “Sometimes your total obliviousness just blows my mind.”

Dear Lord, not a repeat of your conversation with Polly.

“Okay, now that you’ve got it off your chest-” you rolled your eyes, not wishing to explore that topic any further- “Arthur’s actually been pretty much down in the mouth lately, not in the least because of your runaway wedding.”

“Oh please,” she said. “He’ll get over it.”

“Yes,” you nodded slowly, reflecting on the recent events. “I guess he’s been feeling cut-off from the family business since Tommy took over. Your wedding was just the last blow.”

The problem was that, as the oldest male, he was supposed to be in charge. Since that role had been assumed by Tommy, he felt that he had failed in fulfilling his duty in the eyes of society, his family and himself, and it took its toll on him, even though he was reluctant to admit it.

“Well, if they hadn’t been so fucking hostile to the idea from the start, things might have worked out differently,” she grumbled, lightly rubbing her temple. “Anyway, now he has the Garrison to distract himself with, so he’ll be fine in no time. He’s bloody Arthur. He always cools off before you know it.”

“Yeah,” you mused, “you’re probably right. And they don’t really have anything against Freddie, you know. I’d even say they respect him, even though every one of them would most likely die before they admit it.”

Knowing it to be true, Ada just snorted, rolling her eyes.

“The hell is she doing here?” Freddie’s voice snarled the words behind you, taking you by surprise.

You saw Ada visibly stiffen on the bed as she crossed her arms and sent such an icy stare at him that even Tommy could have envied her.

“By George, he speaks.”

Freddie paid no heed to the dangerous notes in his wife’s voice, which made you wonder whether he was very brave or just plain suicidal – provoking the infamous Shelby temper like that. After you had shaken off his startling entrance, you turned to face him.

“It’s good to see you too, Freddie,” you said casually, keeping your calm.

“Drop the pleasantries, Y/N.” He scowled. “Did Tommy send you?”

You rolled your eyes at yet one more expression of their new-found rivalry which you found quite funny, really, since you very well remembered the times when they were as thick as thieves.

“Not everything in the world revolves around fucking Tommy. Or you, for that matter.” You turned to Ada with a sort of apologetic look. “No offense.”

“None taken,” she said. If she was being fair, she agreed with you. Men tended to be blindly preoccupied with just themselves. It was bloody tiresome. “It may surprise you, Freddie, but she’s come to see me. Because that’s what bloody friends do. If you and Tommy still remember what this word even mean.” She glared daggers at him. “Don’t worry, no one knows this address except her and Pol.”

“No one? Really?” You couldn’t really blame him that he somehow found it hard to believe. In his line of work, one must always stay vigilant. You just wished the question of loyalty didn’t come between the newly-weds.

“Really. A woman’s entitled to her secrets.” He was still eyeing you suspiciously, so you threw your hands up in exasperation. “Ada, tell your husband to, please, dial down the paranoia and have a cup of tea.”

“For fuck’s sake, Freddie, just give it up.” She rolled her eyes. The pointless conversation had tired her out. “Y/N has never been anything but supportive, so there’s really no reason for you to give her shit.”

For the first time since he’d got home, Freddie really looked at his wife, and it seemed to have done wonders for his foul mood, as you watched his features soften and his posture relax. The tension eased with each passing second, and soon it felt like you were on a friendly footing once again.

“All right, all right, I’m sorry,” he conceded. “I might have overreacted.”

Ada and you exchanged looks which said what an understatement you thought it to be, but it was enough to content yourselves with.

“Who even invented families?” she wondered in mild annoyance, glancing at Freddie who busied himself with pouring the tea, and a warm smile lifted the corners of her mouth of its own accord.

He sat down on a chair beside the bed, with a cup in one hand. His other hand reached to stroke Ada’s belly.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” he said.

You watched them, with a tender feeling unfolding in your chest. And you knew that, against all the odds, they would be all right.

△ ▽

With a slight limp in your step, you were going down the street, meaning to come by the office to catch up on paperwork. Lost in thought, you weren’t really aware of your surroundings. The Thornes’ family dynamic had affected you in ways you hadn’t expected. They bickered and quarrelled, yet clearly loved each other. It was something you could strive for. Or maybe it was something that had been staring you in the face all along, but you chose to ignore it.

“It’s not safe to have your head in the clouds while crossing the street, Miss Y/L/N,” said a suave voice right behind you.

You narrowly avoided jumping out of your skin entirely for a second time that day. Turning on your heel, you, to your utmost surprise, came face to face with Inspector Campbell.

“Chief Inspector,” you breathed, looking him up and down. “I haven’t realised you had a chance to catch my name the other night at the pub.”

“Thanks to your… friend, I didn’t.” His lips twitched. “But, as you can guess, I have resources.” You nodded – mostly to yourself. You knew it was only a matter of time before he could figure out who you were; you only hoped that he wouldn’t be that interested in you since you were a woman, and women usually got dismissed and underestimated, especially by men in power. You must have really pushed his buttons then. “Going for a walk? Or maybe visiting a friend?”

You immediately tensed up at his seemingly casual enquires. Was he just poking around because you had rattled his cage or was he implying that he knew more than you wished him to?

“I’m going to work, actually,” you replied, trying to keep both your voice and expression neutral.

“In that case, I shouldn’t waste your time.” With his piercing gaze directed at you, you knew he had something else to say. “You have some dangerous friends for such a nice, young lady. Then again, taking into consideration the type of ladies they usually deal with, maybe you’re not that nice yourself.”

Internally cringing at his unsubtle remark, you squinted your eyes at him, wishing nothing more than to hit the man.

“Are you always prying into the personal affairs of people you’ve just met, or is this little chat, in fact, an interrogation?”

“My bad,” he apologized, although a derisive twist of his mouth told you another story. “Frankness and nosiness come with the job.” He doffed his hat. “Have a good day,” said he and was gone.

You waited till he was out of sight and slapped your forehead. It sickened you to think that Freddie might have been right to worry about your visit.

TAGS (OPEN): @crldrr

(gif’s not mine)

[rosesisupposes]

Destined, part 8

aka Sweet Dreams are Made of These

Character Tags: Virgil/Anixety ; Patton/Creativity ; Patton/Morality ; Logan/Logic ; Remy/Sleep ; Dante/Deceit

Chapter Pairings: 

Chapter Warnings: lies, theft, negative self-talk

Reader Tags: @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @brendonuriesguardianvirgil​

Summary: After centuries of acting as an oracle to heroes, quest-seekers, and villains alike, Virgil just wants to live as a normal, modern human. For someone who can see infinite probabilities, you’d think he’d know better.

<<Chapter 7 | Masterlist | Chapter 9>>

Read on Ao3

Flashback: central Europe, 1000 CE

Kat Baker was not a very good one. At the very least, she was the worst baker in the Baker family. And today she’d proved beyond a doubt that if she inherited running the family store, as she was expected to, Bakers’ Dozen would be out of business within the week. She could practically feel three generations of Baker women glaring at her in disappointment.

It had started with the sign.

Mama had asked her to paint a new sign after the old one rotted. She had been ecstatic. Finally, a chance to create something not made of icing! Something that would last!

She’d been very methodical about it, too. She’d sketched several designs and got Mama’s approval, and made a quick version on parchment paper before trying to recreate it on the wooden sign that hung outside the thatched-roof bakery.

But today, once she finally had gotten her paints out, she had gotten too caught up in it, and she’d forgotten to take the loaves out of the oven. The simple daily loaves. The kind that people actually depended on the Baker business for. The kind that were the staple of half their villages’ meals for the day. They had burned, and Mama and her sister Cythera had had to use up the extra dough to quickly get out as many as possible for the daily traffic.

All the pretty, fancy baking that Kat was good at helping with was just extra, the kind of thing that would help them maintain and expand their business. The village loved her sugar flowers and decorations, even the elegantly braided and twisted breads, but they didn’t live on sweetcakes. The daily bread was the backbone of the town and the store itself. Mama was furious.

Kat had run to the woods, crying. Why couldn’t she be a better daughter, a better Baker. Why was she so flighty when her family needed her to be stable, and dependable, and adult?

She ran down a barely-seen path to a small glade, and threw herself down on the mossy bank of the small pond there. This was her paradise, her tranquil pool. She sat and breathed in and out, listening to forest sounds and admiring the flowers around her. At least here she felt like she belonged, and there were no expectations to disappoint.

Relaxing, she doodled in the dirt with a reed plucked from the bank, sketching the water lilies gently floating on the pool’s surface. She started adding flourishes - a frog on a lilypad, a bird overhead, a butterfly in flight. Her concentration was entirely locked on the spreading patterns drawn in the dirt.

Right up until she heard a splash and a voice yell for help.

A tiny blue form was in the middle of the pool, struggling to stay afloat as sodden white wings threatened to sink it. With a start but no hesitation, she waded in, and used a lilypad to scoop up the small creature.

Kat brought it back to land, and deposited her tiny, soaked burden on the dry moss. Shakily standing, a tiny voice said “Thank you, you sweet thing! You saved my life!”

Getting a good look at last, Kat gasped. It was a fairy! A real-life fairy! She knew they existed of course, and everyone said this forest was mystic, but she’d only ever heard stories. The small creature had sky-blue skin, from tiny toes to dangling antennae. Moth wings, white with light brown dots, flapped out from a wee torso in an effort to dry them.

“Oh, toadstools- I haven’t introduced myself. Hello, human! I’m Baxter!”

“Hello, Baxter, I’m Kat. Are you alright?”

The little fairy grinned. “I’ve been wetter! I was almost in over my head in that situation! But thanks to you I’ll be all flight now!”

Kat giggled. The fairy grinned even more broadly. They loved it when people enjoyed their jokes.

“So, mister Kat!” they peeped cheerfully. “How can I repay you for saving my life?”

“Oh, it was no troub- wait, mister?”

“Fiddlesticks, did I get that wrong again? You humans and your non-fluid genders, I’ll never learn. Do you prefer miss, is that right term? More importantly, can I call you Kitty Kat?”

Kat scowled. “No one calls me Kitty. Well, except Cythy, and only because she’s my little sister. And Mama, but only to annoy me. I’m just Kat. Miss Kat, but only if you insist.”

Baxter shrugged philosophically. “Someday, I will find a kitty I can get along with. Actual cats keep trying to eat me. And - oh wait, I was asking a question back there wasn’t I. Oh yes. What can I do to repay you, my sweet Miss Kat?”

Kat grinned at the funny little creature. “You don’t need to do anything for me - unless you can turn me into not a disaster.”

“Exccuussee me?” the fairy asked, offended. They tested their now-dry wings, and fluttered up to Kat’s eye level. “Are you bad-talking my newest best friend?”

“Who’s your - oh. Me.” She shrugged. “It’s not bad-talking if it’s true. I am a disaster and my whole family - no, the whole village - knows it.”

“I will PHYSICALLY FIGHT YOU!” the fairy said, holding up tiny fists.

Kat eyed them with a crooked smile. The fairy’s body was all of four inches tall, their long curly antenna only adding another half inch. “I mean it!” they insisted fiercely. “You are great and perfect! You just saved my life! How could you not be!”

“Because I’m supposed to be a baker and I just can’t do any of it right. Not to mention actually running a business! I just mess everything up and make my family’s life harder.”

“You adorable wingless butterfly, I am sure that’s not true.”

“It is. Every last bread loaf burned today, all because of me. People needed those, and because of me Cythera and Mama will be exhausted tonight when they need to be preparing for tomorrow.”  

“I know!  I could help you! With just a pinch of magic, you won’t give loaf a bad name!”

Kat half-heartedly laughed at the pun, but couldn’t restrain her sighs. “But even then… I’d be dependent on that for everything. And it wouldn’t be fair to Cythera. She’s the one who can actually bake, and she’s so good at it. Plus, she’s already had so many good ideas about how to make Mama’s life easier. Why couldn’t she have been the oldest? She could inherit the store, like she deserves to. I just want to make beautiful things, without the pressure of knowing families rely on me every day to get food out early enough.”

Baxter frowned. “Have you asked if you can just… not inherit and let your sister take over? It seems like that would make everyone happy.”

“I want to, it’s just… I love my family so much, I would never want to do wrong by them. If I tell Mama I don’t want to run the shop… wouldn't that be rejecting all her hard work, and telling her it didn’t mean anything? And her mother’s work, and her mother’s mother’s work… they all took on the responsibility for our store and our family name. None of them shirked their duty. If I do, that’s who I’ll be my whole life. The Baker who wasn’t.” A tear fell from her cheek and landed on her stained apron.

Baxter sat on her shoulder, legs dangling past her collarbone. “Hey, kiddo, it’s alright! You would be happier, and so would your family - that’s all you could ask for, right?”

Kat shook her head, careful not to knock off her new friend. “It just feels wrong. I know I’m not the best at it, but I promised Mama I would. I promised Papa I would. How can I back out of a promise, especially if I don’t know it will work out? Or even what else I would do?”

“What do you want to do, Kat Not-a-Baker?”

“I want to create, but not from dough,” she whispered reverently. “I want to paint and draw, and make beautiful things. Permanent things,” she added, looking sadly at her drawings in the dirt. In the scramble to rescue Baxter, almost all the marks had been smudged or splashed away. “It always feels so natural and right, when I’m able to sketch, or doodle, or paint. But I don’t know if that means it’s what I’m really meant to do, or if I’m just frivolous and need to focus. That’s what Gran’mama always said, anyway.”

Baxter hummed. “I might be able to help you there,” they said, dangling their legs and swinging them a little. “With my help, you might be able to find just the right person who can tell you exactly what you’re meant to be.”

Kat turned her head to stare at the blue creature. “Like… like a Quest?!”

“Exactly like a Quest,” Baxter replied. They knew that techhhhhnicalllyy, they’re not supposed to be going off on Quests without becoming an official Fairy Godparent, but even official parents don’t get to choose their Godchildren. And Baxter liked Kat a lot.

Plus, the Elders were sticks-in-the-mud and kept saying that Baxter “wasn’t ready” and needed to “stop making so many puns” and “take this seeeeeriousssslyyy.”

All the younger fairies loved them, and thought their advice was great. Maybe if they proved they could be a really great Godparent to Kat, the Elders would finally see reason.

This was a great plan, they could feel it all the way to the tips of their wings.

“Have you heard of the Harz Forest, or the Fortuneteller of the Wood?” they asked, fluttering out in front of the teen.

“Only that humans almost never go in it, and that everyone who tries to enter gets lost. And Auntie Delinda says it’s because the magic folk scare or curse everyone to make sure only the worthy can reach the Teller, but Mama says that’s horseradish and that fortune-tellers are just regular people telling you what you want to hear.”

Baxter put their hands on their hips. “I am offended. Here I am, a real-life fairy, and you’re telling me the magic folk are horseradish?”

“Don’t blame me!” Kat said with a pout. “I’ve been looking for fairies, or unicorns, or even a dragon as long as it’s something magical, for my whole life, and I only just found you on accident today. If most humans have to go at least fifteen years without any clues, no wonder Mama thinks fairies have disappeared.”

Baxter looked chagrined. “The fae folk have been limiting our contact lately, it’s true. Does that mean your mother won’t let you come with me?”

“Not at all - when she sees you, and you tell her we’re going on a Quest! She’ll have to agree. She may be a skeptic, but even she knows the tales - that to be a fairy’s Goddaughter is special, and there are consequences of denying a fairy Quest.”

“That...is… absolutely right! Yes, what we’re doing is a true, official fairy Quest, because you, Kat Baker, are just too special to ignore, you delightful little cherub. Yessiree, you are indeed a Goddaughter, and I am your Official™ Fairy Godparent!” Baxter lied. It was for a good cause, after all.

“Did you say something after official? What is a tee-ehm? Is it like a fairy’s magic wand?”

“Uh, yes! Yes, that’s very wise of you to point out. I will need to stop by my colony to get my magic wand before we can leave. If you meet me here as early as you can tomorrow morning, we can go talk to your mother then. And then we can be off on our Quest - to find the Fortuneteller of the Wood!”

Kate leapt to her feet. “You mean it? Really? Tomorrow? Oh, I’m so excited! Yes, I will be here once the bread is out tomorrow, just after sunrise. I’ll see you tomorrow, Baxter!”

Baxter watched her go, then wheeled in midair to head back to the colony. He’d committed, now. All that was left to do was get a wand.

If Kat hadn’t been convinced that Baxter was magical, this proved it.

Her Mama, her skeptic, no-nonsense, stubborn Mama, had needed only 5 minutes talking with the little fairy to allow her to go off on her Quest. Mama had packed a haversack with the most durable loaves, and made sure she brought her Papa’s forest journal of edible plants.

“Take care of it, and yourself, my sweet Kat. I hope your Quest goes well, and that you find what you’re looking for,” she had said, hugging her tightly and kissing her forehead.

Cythy was jealous, but promised to support Mama. “Bring me back an extra prince, Kitty! Or tell Baxter to come live with us!” Their charm had clearly roped in the entire Baker family. It was something in those earnest brown eyes, and the wide smile. Plus, they seemed to give off respect like a perfume when they put their mind to it.

And now, not even a day later, they’d reached the edge of the Harz Forest. They knew that the Fortuneteller lived deep in the woods, at the furthest point from all the edges. Kat was dying of curiosity - what kept people away? Would it be scary? Would she be ready?

She and Baxter were following what path seemed to exist. It was faint, and definitely not commonly trod. But it definitely was moving steadily away from the edge of the forest, so it must be heading deeper in.

Baxter spent parts of the journey flying beside he, and parts sitting on her shoulder or on her pack, telling stories about antics they and their fae friends had gotten into, and slowly convincing the girl to let them call her Kitty Kat. They were in the middle of a rather entertaining story regarding Baxter’s first ill-fated attempt to befriend an actual cat when they suddenly pulled on Kat’s hair, squeaking “Pump the brakes there, kiddo.”

Kat looked around, confused. She didn’t see anything threatening - what was wrong?

Baxter flew out in front of her, soft wings flapping as they removed their wand from a tiny holster on their waist. Their eyes and wand glowed as they turned in a semicircle, continuing to hover. “Aha! Oh, that is just so clever,” they exclaimed. Turning to their human companion - no, their Goddaughter - Baxter explained, “It’s wood sprite magic. That’s what protects this forest. There are misdirection charms everywhere, designed to send any humans right back to the edges of the forest without realizing they’ve been turned around. It would work on anyone unable to cast spells, though magic folk like me might notice something funny. Luckily, I am your Godparent, and I am Prepared!”

A glow arose from the tip of their wand, spreading into a silvery bubble the enclosed fairy and human alike. It hung for a moment, then melted away. “We’ll be all set now - the spells won’t affect us. The sprites have gotten more strategic than I remember - time was they’d just try to strangle any intruders one by one. But this way, they only need to maintain the spell, and don’t risk losing any of their own!”

Kat rubbed her throat at the thought of wood sprites and strangulation. “Will they still try to stop us? Is there danger?”

“I don’t believe so. We just need to be careful to not harm any trees. Not that either of us wood,” they added, flying next to Kat just to elbow her lightly. She giggled. “No really! These wood sprites are all the same! No bite, all bark!”

“Baxter, you were definitely destined to be my Godparent. Papa used to make the same jokes all the time. I always groaned and complained, but I loved them. I wish I could have told him that.”

The blue fairy felt their heart squeeze. They flew up and stroke the girl’s head. “Kiddo, don’t you worry. He knew.”

As Baxter had predicted, they didn’t encounter any trouble. It was a far distance to walk, but they were able to find small clearings to sleep in. At night, Baxter cast a protection spell just in case, and included heat in the ward, so there was no need to harm any trees for firewood.

It took two nights and three days of walking before Baxter noticed heavier layers of magic, and Kat spotted a break in the trees ahead. “This must be it!” Kat said excitedly. “The center of the forest - we’re almost at the home of the Fortuneteller of the Wood!”

They were expecting a cottage, maybe a tower. What they found was a huge natural home built in the heart of a tree. A sprawling tree, at least fifteen feet in diameter, twisted up towards the clouds above. A hollow in the middle of the trunk contained what looked like a natural staircase as the tree continued to grow around it. The stairs twined within the trunk before disappearing into a dense canopy.

“Should we… go up?” Kat asked nervously. “I hate to barge in…”

“The Teller probably isn’t used to guests, so wouldn’t know to check for us,” Baxter noted. “Let’s see where the stairs lead.”

They climbed up carefully, both in awe of the massive natural being. They reached the top only to find a room made out of twined branches. The floor was a net of branches in all directions, curving up and around to create the walls. It felt a bit like standing in a wicker basket - a still-living basket that pulsed with green life on every side.

Kat made eye contact with Baxter, who nodded encouragingly. She took a deep breath, and called out “Mr. Fortuneteller? Teller of the Wood? I come seeking my destiny!”

They heard a rustling above them. Through the leaves and branches above her head, Kat saw a form swinging back and forth from branch to branch. It descended quickly, but with what was clearly ease of long practice. The form finally dropped deftly in front of the fairy and human guests in its home, bracing its landing with a bended knee.

The form rose to full height. It was a long way to go. Baxter’s first thought was a druid or a sprite grown to fifty times its size, but neither druids nor sprites could be fortune-tellers. No, this was just a Sage who’d chosen to blend in with his home. His skin was a dark, warm brown, made even darker by his leathery tan. His hair was a mixture of dark and light green, falling messily into his face and almost - almost - obscuring shockingly bright green eyes. His cheeks had what could have been greenish stubble, but could also be lichen. At his full height, he was at least six feet tall, towering over both his guests.

Baxter was absolutely overcome. They would have expected the Sage to stand awkwardly, but his body was well-proportionate to his height, and he was clearly in his element surrounded by his wooded home. When Baxter was finally able to pull his eyes away from the tall tree man, he noticed wood sprites darting in and out of the tree room, flitting around their giant counterpart and away.

“Welcome, Seeker,” the Teller said at last. His voice was rough with disuse, but shiveringly deep, and Baxter could feel himself swooning as he fluttered by Kat’s shoulder.  “I am the one some call the Fortuneteller of the Wood. My name is Devas.”

Kat gave a small curtsy. “Greetings, Devas. I am Katherine Baker, Kat. And this is my fairy Godparent, Baxter.”

“A Quest, is this? You must be very special to have a fairy Quest bring you to me. Particularly when I have not been an active Fortune Teller in over a hundred years.”

Kat beamed with pride. “They are an excellent Godparent, and have guided me here to help me find my destiny!”

Devas hesitated, and seemed ready to decline, but paused when the small blue fairy came up to just below eye level. Baxter felt their tiny heart beating much quicker as those emerald eyes inspected him. Devas rumbled, “I have been acting as protector to the sprites of this forest, helping the trees themselves repel advancing farmers and conquerors. Tell me, fairy, why I should resume the ancient duties I had left behind these many years?”

Baxter shivered, partly in fear, and partly not in fear at all. They drew a deep breath, and channeled their innate magic to sweeten the mood of the giant man. “Devas, great Sage, we have journeyed long to find you. My  young friend here - that is, my Goddaughter, is torn between duty and passion. She just wants to know which choice will be Right. Can you, Heart of the Harz, Teller of the Wood, please help her? It’s for her family!”

Devas had never seen a fairy with such striking brown eyes, made all the more startling by the contrast from their bright blue body. And the way the little thing looked at him as they asked, on behalf of their charge… Devas may have been committed to his forest home, but he didn’t have a wooden heart. He relented.

“Very well, young Seeker. Do you know the invocation?” he asked as relaxed his lanky form into a tailor’s seat. Sitting, he still almost as tall as the teen who cautiously approached him.

“I do, great Teller,” she said, taking a breath. “Sage, I entreat you, tell me my destiny.”

“Seeker, to know your destiny is to be bound by it. Are you prepared to risk your future?”

“I am.” Her small face was determined.

“Then give me your hands, and prepare to be bound.”

Devas’ huge brown hands enveloped Kat’s, the paler skin of his palms still not as light as hers. He closed his eyes and looked into the ether.

Kat Baker. What a relief. No dragons or quests or risking the world. She just wanted to know if she was wrong to have an ‘impractical’ passion. It reminded Devas fondly of the farmers from all those years ago at Delphi. No grand decisions of right and wrong - just hoping that life will go her way. And it was within her power - no magic needed. If only all destinies were like this, Devas might not have escaped to the woods for his current lifetime. He smiled internally, and spoke.

“To trust that beauty will be recognized, you must commit with all your heart.”

Kat withdrew her hands, her eyes shining. She looked up at her fluttering companion and grinned. “Baxter, did you hear that! That sounds like a good sign!”

“It sure does kiddo! I can hardly be-leaf it!”

Something was bothering Devas. This wasn’t his first interaction with a fairy Godparent, and this one was… different. Much less polished. Far more scattered than fairies tended to want Godparents to be. And Devas was just a tad suspicious.

“Fairy - Baxter, was it? Do you seek a destiny as well? On behalf of your Quest, I will Tell it for you, if you wish.”

“Ohhh I don’t know that that’s necessary, my future can really stay a mys-tree!”

“Oh Bax, don’t be silly!” Kat piped up. “Even if you know you’re going to keep being a fairy Godparent, don’t you want a hint for how things will go?”

A strained look flashed across the little creatures’ blue face. They fluttered up towards the leafy ceiling, muttering to themself. Finally, they descended, and landed on Devas’ large palm. “I… suppose there are questions I have for the future. Here goes nothing. Sage, I entreat you, tell me my destiny.”

“Seeker, to know your destiny is to be bound by it. Are you prepared to risk your future?”

Baxter’s face turned a much lighter shade of blue, but they proceeded nonetheless. “I am.”

“Then give me your hands, and prepare to be bound.”

Two tiny hands wrapped around the Sage’s thumb as the ether clouded his vision once more.

As he gazed through flashing futures, Devas immediately felt his suspicions were well-founded. There were possible future Godchildren, yes, but far more were ending up selfish, or cruel, or cowardly than fairies were supposed to allow. And in the futures without Godchildren, Baxter was exiled entirely, shut out of their colony. Devas frowned. He didn’t see any future choices that caused it. What could the fairy have already done? Was it worth it to check?

A sudden voice, high-pitched but firm and filled with disdain. “Once a thief, forever a thief.” It came from a grave-looking fairy, clearly much older than Baxter, surrounded by a group of stone-faced elders. That was it. Devas was going to look into the past.

Devas is Baxter, sitting with a smaller, younger fairy. “Now Felics, I know you didn’t mean to hurt Poppy, but you did hurt them, and you need to apologize. “But Bax, what if they are still mad at me? Can’t I just wait until they feel better?” “No, kiddo, you can’t. Sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t feel all that great.”

The world shifts, to only hours later. Devas feels their fairy heart fluttering as quickly as their wings with nerves. Their prank went wrong, and their best friend is furious with them. Why can’t they understand it was a joke? Devas always meant it to be a joke, they should know that. If they don’t understand that and don’t want to be part of the delights that are Devas’ brilliant pranks, maybe it’s best they not be friends anymore.

Devas paused in his visions. He recognized the sentiment - feelings always threatened to overpower better judgment. But to give in to the emotional reaction just after urging the impressionable not to? No wonder their potential future Godchildren could be so… petty.

It is night, just a few days ago. Devas flies silently through the colony. They’d slipped through the illusion on the huge, mossy boulder during the ritual hour, as everyone was out in fairy circles. Their luck is doubly in - only one Elder is guarding the inner vault, and it’s Blunda. She is old and sleepy, and it takes just a whispered suggestion with a tiny twist of magic to have her snoring. Devas grins to themself. Clearly, this is why they would make a great Godparent. They’re so resourceful! The Elders really didn’t know what they were missing, delaying their first deployment. They fly into the vault, and found racks upon racks of magic wands. Bee-ee-ay-youtiful. They select a belt and holster from the tray, then reach for one of the magic objects. As they snatch it, they sense alarm spells going off, zooming to the Elders. Time for their escape. They race past Blunda (still sleeping) and take a hidden shortcut through the colony walls, escaping into open air. They feel a slight twinge against their conscience. They know stealing is Wrong, but who else would help Kat? The Elders were so particular in which children were named Godchildren. Baxter likes Kat a lot, and she was so kind to them. So helping her must be Right, and anything they do that helps her is also Right.

Right?

Devas drew back, frowning. Now the futures all made sense. But the fairy can’t be beyond all help, are they? Devas knew he was likely overstepping, but he asked Baxter a clarifying question.

“Fairy, what do you want your destiny to be? What do you want to be your life’s work and legacy?”

Baxter smiled cheerfully.  “I want to be a Good Fairy and Godparent, and help as many kiddos as I can, and bring smiles to their faces!”

“Can a Godparent be Good if their idea of Good shifts?” Devas asked quietly.

The fairy went pale. Devas nodded, then spoke Baxter’s destiny.

“A willow that bends without end supports no weight. An unforgiving oak will break those that oppose it. Only if you can resist these extremes will the forest path be revealed to you.”

Baxter’s tiny mouth hung open, processing what the forest Sage had said. They had a lot to consider.

As fairy and girl made their way along the long journey home, Kat asked Baxter what they were thinking, unnerved by their uncharacteristic silence.

“Kitty Kat, have I been a good Godparent to you? Have I helped you figure out the Right thing to do?”

“Of course you’ve been good! You got us to the Sage and now I know what I need to do! At least I think I do.”

“But do I do what’s Right? Or just what I think will make me happy?”

“Both, I think!”

“What about when they’re not the same?”

Kat frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t think that’s happened, has it?”

Baxter’s insides twisted. Should they have admitted to Kat that the wand was stolen? But that would mean admitting that they hadn’t been assigned to her, that she hadn’t been picked as a Goddaughter. Would that hurt her? Wouldn’t she feel liked Baxter had betrayed her?

Their sudden realization caused them to fly straight into a tree branch.

They were asking themselves entirely the wrong questions. They couldn’t focus on the perceived outcomes of their actions, but on what was the right thing to do. And the right thing to do was to tell Kat the truth. All of it.

They had betrayed Kat, by lying, and convincing her to leave her family on false pretenses. The forest hadn’t been dangerous, but it could have been, and Kat would have been at risk of her life without even knowing why.

“Kiddo? I mean, Kat? Can we take a break for a second,” they asked nervously.

“Of course, Baxter. Are your wings tired?”

“No, I just… need to get something off my chest.”

“We’d better sit down then. Wouldn’t want you to get crushed!” Kat replied with a goofy grin. The cheesy joke, so like their own, made Baxter grin back in spite of themself.

Kat settled carefully in a mossy clearing, checking for saplings before sitting gently. Even though there was no longer a threat, she didn’t want to harm Devas’ forests.

Baxter found a sapling, barely over two feet tall, and alit on the top-most branch. Leaning against the slender trunk, they let their wings fall back into a rest position. They looked down at their tiny blue feet, not wanting to make eye contact with Kat just yet.

“I… I want to apologize, Kat. I have not been a good Godparent to you.”

Kat looked at him quizzically. “Bax, what do you mean? You’ve been so nice! And we succeeded in our Quest to find the Teller, and we’re practically home already. That all sounds like a great Godparent to me!”

“That’s just it, Kat. It wasn’t a Quest, not truly. And… I’m not a real Godparent. I just really, really wanted to be one. I’m so sorry,” Baxter said sadly. They looked up. Kat’s face was one of confusion, but her eyes still radiated trust for her magical companion of the past week. They felt their heart squish itself into an even tighter corner of their chest.

“The fae folk have a lot of very strict rules over who can be deployed as a Godparent, and who can be a Godchild. I’ve always resented those rules, because the Elders kept telling me I wasn’t ready, and I was so sure that I was.

“But now I understand, finally, why I never was. Kat, I… I lied to you. From practically the moment we first met. I was never chosen to be your Godparent. And to the best of my knowledge… you were never chosen to be a Godchild.”

Kat’s confusion shifted into clear self-doubt, and her eyes started to mist over with tears. This was even harder than Baxter had feared it would be.

“Kitty Kat, I promise you, it’s not because you aren’t brilliant, or talented, or delightful. There are just very exacting standards. It always feels like the Elders have some weird measuring cord - ‘Must Be This Miserable or Have This Much Potential Greatness or Must Have Been This Much Switched At Birth to Get a Fairy’. It’s not about who deserves one, I don’t think, but about whose life absolutely needs magical help to spread the most good in the world. And we don’t want to admit it, but we fae folk are shrinking in number. We live for hundreds of years, yes, but almost all our colonies are aging, and we don’t have as many potential parents to deploy. I’ve never heard of a fairy living over 1,000, and my Elders are all well into their 900s...”

Baxter shook their head. “Sorry, I’m getting distracted. That’s not the point. The point is… I wanted so badly to have the title of Godparent, to skip the process and go right to the glory, that I lied to you. I justified it because I was helping you, but I was really just trying to help myself. I lied to your family, and brought you out to these woods. What if they had been truly dangerous? If you’d been hurt… Kitty Kat, I would never forgive myself. And it would have been all my fault. I even stole this wand from my colony’s vaults, and told myself I deserved to have one. I am glad that you got to hear your destiny, and that you feel confident in your path moving forward. I really am. But you deserved better than me - as a Godparent or as a friend. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

They took a deep breath, still avoiding the girl’s eyes. “I understand if you are mad at me. I hope you will still allow me to accompany you until the end of this journey, so that I can at least protect you until you are safe at home.”

Long moments passed. Kat still had not made a sound. Baxter cringed. She hates me. She must. How could she not - I am a thief and a liar and I risked her life for my own ego.

Or maybe, she is just nervous. I should reassure her. If she needs to be reassured, I need to be the one to do it. I owe her that much, at least.

They peered up, still cringing, prepared for anger and disgust. They instead saw disappointment. Somehow, that was even worse.

“I… don’t know what to say. Thank you for telling me the truth.” Kat looked down, fiddling with the frayed hem of her apron. “I’m glad that I did get to meet the Teller, at least. And the sprites. I’m glad I know there is a destiny where I am happy, and pursuing my dream. I just wish… I wish I’d actually deserved it.”

Baxter’s heart broke.

“Kitty Kat… you did deserve it. And you do. Kat, please look at me,” Baxter pleaded. The girl reluctantly met their eyes, her own bright with unshed tears. “Kat, you deserve all of this and more. Certainly more than this shoddy excuse for a fake Godparent. I… know I haven't exactly been trustworthy. Ask me to swear by anything, though. I really and truly mean it.”

Kat frowned. “Swear by your destiny, then. The tales all say that breaking an oath will destroy the magic of what you swear by. Will you risk it? Or will you take the easy way out again?”

Baxter swallowed. Her tone hurt, but they knew they deserved it. “I will, Kat. I will swear by my destiny that you deserved this quest, and you deserved a Godparent. Even if I wasn’t the one you deserved.”

Both fairy and human regarded each other in silence for a moment. The only sound was the whispers of wind in the treetops above.

Finally, Kat nodded. “Thank you, Baxter. I believe you. And… I forgive you.”

“Why? I mean, really? You don’t have to, I know it was wrong and hurtful, you don’t have to be okay with it already…”

“But that’s just it, Bax,” the girl said. She stood, and reached out a hand for the fairy to step on. “You know now. I think, maybe, you knew before too, but you didn’t want to admit it. Because it was too hard, or too painful. But now you have, despite that.” She held small blue being up to her eye level. “You made mistakes, Bax. And your mistakes hurt others. But I don’t think you’ll ever make those mistakes again, now that you see that. I think you’re a Good fairy, and have always been one deep down. You just know to listen to that deep-down voice more now.”

Baxter tried to swallow the quickly-forming lump in their throat. She believed in them. After everything they’d brought her through, and everything they’d admitted, she believed. They’d never felt like anyone believed in them before. Even before they’d become a prankster, no one in the colony had ever seemed to expect them to be anything special or Good.

“Thank you, Kat. I am going to try my best, and keep trying even when I don’t quite get there. I hope you’ll be proud of me.”

“I know I will be. Swear on my destiny,” she said with a smile.

Baxter flew closer and hugged as much of her face as they could. “I’m sorry I was a fake Godparent, but I am so glad you were my fake Goddaughter. When we get back - will you be my not-fake friend?”

Kat carefully pat their head as a hug back, smiling. “Just you try and stop me!”

Fairy and human set off to the forest’s edge, heading home again. The sprite spells helped guide them away from the heart of the woods, and away from the Sage who’d given them both hope. Baxter was sorry they would likely never see Devas again, but one destiny was enough for anyone’s lifetime.

Besides, the Sage could only get so much credit. Finding him had been a grand adventure, but it was their young human friend who’d truly helped them find what they’d been missing.

Kat had rescued them, the first day they’d met. Now, she’d rescued them again, but for the rest of their life. If it hadn’t been for her, they might never have found their morality.

Notes:

Baxter’s wings are based on the moth Eudeilinia herminiata. Fun fact - this type of moth feeds exclusively trees from the dogwood genus

(did I specifically surround Baxter with Kat and Dog(wood)s yes, yes I did)

Baxter: Anglo-Saxon/Scottish origin, means “baker”

[platonic-plots]

The Interview.

Request/Summary: Spider-Man: Homecoming is your acting debut and you’re doing the press tour with your co-star, Tom. Things have been going fine until you encounter a pretty critical interviewer who doesn’t seem to be a fan of yours.

Pairings: tom holland x platonic!reader 

Words: 2195

Warnings: a family death, mental illness

Specific time/Important info: *** means a change in time, in this case it’s just for the flashback/memory :)

Six months. Six torturous, heart-breaking months since the worst day of your life; the day everything seemed to fall apart.

***

The Saturday it happened had started out the same as any other day, the cast was on set and you were on to the umpteenth take of the scene you’d been working on for the past couple of days. You had repeated it enough times for the team to be able to edit together the perfect sequence, however it needed to be more than that. As the sixth ‘Spider-man’ movie to be released since 2002, everyone who was working on Homecoming knew it had to blow the other movies straight out of the water. The take you were on had just been disrupted by Tom stumbling over his words and seemingly creating an entirely new language in the process, so the director wasn’t too annoyed when your phone rang loudly from the snack table only seconds later.

“Take five, guys. God knows we need it,” Jon mumbled the second part through a chuckle. You apologised to him as you passed, swearing you had switched your phone off, whilst you jogged over to it with a hint of worry beginning to cloud your otherwise positive mood. You didn’t use the device very often, and the only people with your number were either a few feet away from you or members of your very small family - you only had your mom (who you lived with on the east coast) and your auntie (who lived over on the west coast). And everyone knew you’d never answer during filming - for fairly obvious reasons you were quite certain they understood, but apparently you weren’t as right as you thought. Glancing at the caller ID (’the mothership’), you remembered that she was visiting her sister in Los Angeles, so you just assumed that the time zones had most likely confused her.

“Mom? Is everything o-”

“Y-Y/n, i-it’s me,” your auntie spoke in between sobs.

“Y/(auntie’s)/n? What’s wrong? W-why are you- what’s happened?” Your voice emanated a mixture of fear and panic, which managed to grab the attention of a couple of crew members around you. They looked at you with concern, but you just waved them off with a tiny smile.

“It’s yo-your mom. I-I-I.. Sh-she she was,” her speech was replaced with cries of an indescribable sadness. Your heart clambered its way up to your throat and a million different possible scenarios flew in and out of your head, none of them positive. ‘Just breathe,’ you thought, ‘you’re okay, she’s okay, it’s okay.’

“Y/a/n, please, just slow down. T-take a deep breath, yeah? I-I’m sure everything is fine, you just need to tell me what’s going on, okay?” As the conversation went on, more people began to look your way, including some of the actors. You did your best to ignore them and solely pay attention to the phone call. No amount of focusing, however, could prepare you for what you’d find out.

After a few moments of her collecting herself as well as she could, she spoke again: “I-I should be telling you this in person, but i-it isn’t fair for you to wait that long. I-it’s y-your mom, Y/n. There was a car crash, a-and I tried my best, Y/n. I really, really did. But the damage a-and, and..” She paused for a second. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. She didn’t make it.”

Every single day you had always seemed happy about something. On set, people looked forward to simply being around you. Unless a scene required otherwise, the was consistently a smile on your face, whether it was because of a joke you’d just shared, a book you were reading or just life itself. Maybe that’s why every eye in the room was on you when you threw your phone to the ground. Maybe that’s why they looked on in shock when a grief-stricken sob forced its way through your parted lips. Maybe that’s why Tom sprinted over to you when you sank to the ground with tears pouring down your cheeks and cries escaping your mouth.

***

In your head, after the phone call, the day was a blur. Glimpses of the events occasionally interrupted your day dreaming like a gust of uninvited wind on a summer day. Like eventually being lifted off the ground by Tom, and getting driven to the hotel near set you’d been staying in, and Tom staying with you that night. He was so worried. He still is.

“Earth to Y/n,” he joked whilst waving a hand in front of your face.

You snapped back into reality. “S-sorry. I was.. thinking.” Peering through the car window, you realised the vehicle had already stopped outside of the hotel where you were about to spend the next couple of days doing press interviews. You continued: “Oh, I-I didn’t know I was holding us up- I’m ready when you are,” the edges of your lips curled a little at the boy beside you.

Tom’s eyebrows furrowed almost unnoticeably at how quiet you were and how quickly you avoided talking about yourself. “You don’t have to do this, y’know. Nobody’ll be mad if you want to take a couple of days off - your health is more important than answering the same questions over and over and over again.” He gave a laugh and you replied with a smaller one.

“My health is fine, I’m all good, and in one piece, see?” You exaggeratedly motioned towards your limbs.

“Your mental health, stupid.”

“That’s good too,” you opened the car door to the drowning shouts of fans and paparazzi, “barely.”

Tom wasn’t wrong about how many times you’d have to answer the same questions; they were almost exclusively either about ‘becoming an actress’ or ‘what is was like to work alongside RDJ himself’. The number of interviewers who asked those questions was so large you doubted you could even count to it. Despite how repetitive it was, you didn’t mind - in fact, you appreciated it in a strange way. It meant that within the first hour, your answers were already memorized like a script and you knew exactly what to say. The day had been running smoothly. Had. To you, it was obvious that something was bound to go wrong, you just didn’t realise how wrong.

The next interviewer walked in straight after the last and you and Tom both stood up to shake his hand. He greeted your costar with a dazzling smile and a slight bit of small talk, introducing himself as John. You? You just about got a second glance, though it resembled more of a glare than anything else. ‘Ah, lovely,’ you thought.

You didn’t know what you’d done to offend the stranger in front of you, but he was definitely holding a grudge against you. Every question so far was catered solely to Tom and only Tom, and if it wasn’t obvious enough, John made sure to address him by name. You had no problem with him asking your co-star more questions - he was both the main character and a more well-known and experienced actor. But you couldn’t help the feeling of annoyance at the fact that he refused to even look at you. By the fourth question, Tom had caught on to what the interviewer was doing and he tried his best to involve you.

“So, Tom, what was it like working with Robert for the second time? Had much changed since you were co-stars in Civil War?”

“I felt calmer this time around, but only just,” he laughed, “I wasn’t as nervous acting in front of him as I had been in the last film, and he’s been just as helpful and amazing as he was then. Obviously, Y/n hadn’t worked with Robert before, what did you think of him? You seemed pretty star struck to me,” Tom joked, directing the question to you.

You smiled at him appreciatively and replied, “Oh, definitely. He helped me a lot with-” You were cut off as John asked his next question. You tried to keep your calm composure yet you couldn’t stop your eyebrows twitching in bewilderment. A glance at Tom informed you that he had the same expression on his face. You knew there was no stopping the interviewer’s attitude towards you so you returned to doing what you had been doing the entire time, looking on with a small smile and occasionally nodding politely at the one-on-one Q and A session beside you. 

It was around the eighth question when your mind was pulled from its aimless wandering.

“Are you tired, Y/n?”

The confusion was no doubt evident on your face. “I-”

“Or ill, perhaps?”

Your head somewhat subtly cocked to the side, “I’m sorry?”

“In previous interviews you have seemed much more.. involved. I can’t help but feel like I’m boring you.”

“I, um, I apologise if I seem that way,” you started fidgeting your hands in your lap, something you did whenever you felt particularly stressed or anxious, “but I can assure you that it isn’t intended..” In the few moments you took to form another reply in your head, Tom opened his mouth to defend you. The interviewer had moved on to the next question before he even had chance to move his tongue. 

“So, Y/n, I have some rumors here that I was hoping you could clear up.”

The fidgeting grew worse and it wasn’t unnoticed. You felt Tom place his hand on your back, the action reassuring you that you were okay and he was there. 

“I - oh - yeah, sure.” You’d never felt so uncomfortable in your life. You considered leaving the room, but you didn’t want to be that girl. And honestly, you were too scared to; facing the backlash of the press on your own posed as a looming threat.

“In the movie, particularly when paired with that of RDJ and Michael Keaton, you acting is fairly poor- questionable at best. During the filming of Homecoming, there were stories circling of you breaking down on set.” Tom tensed beside you. “There were rumors stating that you became depressed after your mother passed,” people around the room began shifting, waiting for somebody to take charge, “so is this true? And do you believe it’s the reasoning behind your performance?”

Speechless. You were completely, entirely speechless. A lump formed in your throat and your jaw dropped slightly - how could somebody, let alone a complete stranger, be so insensitive? On camera? For a video that was supposed to be released for millions to see?

“We’re leaving,” spoke your co-star as he stood up and sent a glare to the interviewer that was so sharp, he’d have dropped dead if looks could kill. Tom turned his attention to you, his look immensely softer now, and took your hand to lead you out. You turned your head to the wall but you were certain that everyone in the room had caught a glimpse of the tears that had fallen down your face.

When the pair of you left the room, with you gripping Tom’s hand as if he was saving you from drowning, the corridor was empty. Nevertheless, you waited until you’d rounded the corner before you let your feet stop. Back against the wall, you slid down it while your body trembled and you continued to cry. Instantly, he knelt down in front of you and placed one hand on your knee and the other on your cheek. Since the first day on set, Tom had looked after you, always making sure you were okay. He hated seeing you, his ‘honorary little sister’, in the state you were in. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here, Y/n.” He switched his position so that he was sat next to you and he had no problem when you clung onto him in a hug he knew you needed. “You need to forget every word that man said in there, Y/n/n. You’re better than him, god, your so much better. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. At all.” Tom continued for a few minutes, reassuring you that your acting was ‘incredible’ and the movie wouldn’t have been the same without you. 

“C’mon, I want to show you something.” He ignored your questions as he led you to the lift and you ascended to the top floor. As the doors opened, you stared on in amazement at the city around you - you were on the roof of the hotel. 

“Woah,” the view before you was breath taking. Tom followed you around as you took in the city, and the comfortable silence between you seemed to last a life time.

“When something upsets me, I always just want to get as far away from it as I can. Considering the crowds that were waiting for us when we arrived, I figured this was the furthest we could go without being mauled by fans.”

You smiled at him gratefully. You weren’t sure how you managed to have a best friend like Tom, but you knew you weren’t letting him go any time soon.

Requests are open and shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be tagged in any future fics, thank you so much for reading :) it’s 3:43am why aren’t I asleep

[you-are-worth-the-wait]

hey there Love.  in the middle of writing something to you.  just wanted to send this to let you know that i’m still here and thinking about you.  sorry i haven’t written anything in the past day.  doesn’t mean i love you any less.  wierd.  i let myself lapse in sending something your way for over 24 hours and i feel guilty as if i’ve let you down or may make you think differently about things.  that’s totally not it.  my resolve for you is just as strong as ever.

you know that heavy anxiety-like feelings that i get when i feel something is wrong?  i kinda had that feeling when i woke up this morning.  can’t tell why.  it’s not as bad as it usually is.  say if my worst feeling was a 10, this one was like a 4-6.  the ones i usually have that you’ve seen me in are like 7-10.  it’s there and it’s a lingering feeling.  i can feel it building inside of me but i don’t know the proper way to resolve it or what outlet i can use.  i just feel “off” right now and my first thoughts are of you.

it’s been a long weekend with lots of distraction.  i told you how my brother moved into my auntie’s place.  i’ve been staying over night sometimes as of last weekend just for the weekend to play video games and just to hang out.  2K basketball, obviously...*ws*  which may not be obvious since you don’t know what kind of games i usually play but prolly obvious based on my like for the game.  so i’ve had that to distract me.

i also went and hung out with my uncle who is my godfather.  they recently sold some property of their land in hawaii and in order not to get taxed, they used that money to buy a house here in vegas.  it’s really huge and nice.  i’ll send you the link that showcased the house that they used to buy it.  crazily, they purchsed this house during the pandemic so they didn’t even actually physically see the house in person.  they just bought and then eventually came over once the pandemic died down.  

that the link of the website that they used to see the house and purchase it without even seeing it in person.  crazy.  but as you can see, the backyard is crazy nice and so is the inside.  i asked him if i could use the place just to swim and possibly hang out/BBQ in the backyard and he said all i have to do is call and i have access to the place.  i didn’t want to ask for the keys to the house since i feel kinda shame but i know at some point if i/we hang out there, it would be nice to go inside to cook and use the restroom :P  so i spent part of the weekend doing that.  

i had gone there and i was in my regular clothes hanging out around the jacuzzi.  you know how i weear my sleeveless shirt under regular button down shirts.  luckily i took off my shirt and had place my phone on the side because at one point, he and my dad got so frustrated that i didn’t bring my swimming clothes and wasn’t partaking in going into the jacuzzi and pool that my uncle just started splashing me with water and totally drenched me.  my dad got into that act too so i was soaked.  luckily i had those dry wick pants.  the crappy stuff was that i had underwear on.  but after that, i just took off my belt and just enjoyed the jacuzzi and the pool.  it’s a really kewl place.  they spend their time between vegas and hawaii.  mostly hawaii at this point.  it’s an amazing place and i think we could really enjoy it and have some fun there.  endless possibilities. 

that’s pretty much been my weekend.  it was nice, relaxing, and a definite change from my usual routine.  

i do look at your profile from time to time.  i notice you took down one of your likes.  is there are a particualr reason why?  are you/everything okay over there?  something going through your mind/heart that made you do that?  was it something i might have said or made you think/feel?  i’m sorry if that was the case.  i don’t want you to feel that you need to be ashamed, scared, shy, or feel that you can’t be honest, real, and open with me.  just saw your likes and thought something was missing.  had to reread my post reactions to figure out what exactly was missing.

i’ll write more throughout the day or at the end of my night.  just want you to know that you are in my mind.  i thought about you all weekend, sheesh, i think about you always.  you are in my thoughts and in my dreams.  i miss you every day and just wonder what’s in your mind and heart.  wonder what inner battels you may be dealing with at this time.  i worry and fear what other things you may be dealing with along the lines of him, your family, arguements/fights, and you giving him all these “chances”.  wondering...*sigh*  i think some things i really only want to talk with you because i do feel a little lost with what to think and feel and you are the reason behind those thoughts that i feel could help give me some clarity.  it may make things worse but i feel it would be better with you.

was discussing plans for hawaii this year.  all i can think about is wanting you to be with me by then so we could be experiencing it together.  delusion?  wishful thinking?  hopeful romantic?  dreamer?  believer?  someone who is just lost without you becuase of what you mean to my life...

hope your weekend was...i don’t really know at this point.  “uneventful” almost sounds like a better option that what it could possibly have been.  i just hope your heart isn’t any more borken and torn than it already is.

i wish i could end my days just talking with you...

[goddessgirl]

1-70 for the question thingy 😂

Thank you love, I tried to only write a little, but I get carried away so easily 😂💖

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?I do 💖

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? Out loud? My mum

03: Do you regret anything? I regret lots of things

04: Are you insecure? That depends what day it is ngl 😂

05: What is your relationship status? I’m single

06: How do you want to die? I’m not actually that bothered 😂

07: What did you last eat? Chocolate 🍫

08: Played any sports? Yeah, I used to play football but I can’t now cause boobs 😂

09: Do you bite your nails? No, that’s something I’ve never actually done.

10: When was your last physical fight? High school. A girl threatened to push my brother in front of a car, just because they didn’t get on, so I right hooked her 😂

11: Do you like someone? No, not at the moment

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? Yes, worst 48 hours ever! I was a horrible, cranky cow the majority of those 48 hours.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? No, not anymore

14: Do you miss someone? My grandma

15: Have any pets? Yes a dog, Scamp 😍

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? I’m hungry and sick of sounding like a dying seal 😂

17: Ever made out in the bathroom? Yes

18: Are you scared of spiders? Scared is an understatement. The 8 legged freaks have some sort of radar for me though!

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? No, I’m glad the things I’ve gone through have happened, because without them I wouldn’t be the person I am today

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? My bedroom 😉

21: What are your plans for this weekend? I’ll be partying for new year and my Auntie Paula’s birthday. I can’t wait! I’ll also go and visit my dad and do some shopping too with my grandad, mum and cousins

22: Do you want to have kids? How many? Hell yes! I’m not bothered, as long as it’s more than 1

23: Do you have piercings? How many? Just my ears

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? Science, Health and Social, ICT, English and History

25: Do you miss anyone from your past? No

26: What are you craving right now? Gingerbread and fajitas

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? No

28: Have you ever been cheated on? No

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? No, but my ex used to fake cry until I called him out on it 😂

30: What’s irritating you right now? Nothing right now actually! Its a fucking Christmas miracle!!! 😂😂

31: Does somebody love you? No

32: What is your favourite color?Red, Pink and Blue - I couldn’t pick 1😂

33: Do you have trust issues? Kinda

34: Who/what was your last dream about? I dreamt my grandma was still alive and she ran at me, and hugged me so tight and told me she loved me. I was so sad when I woke up because it felt so real (all my dreams do actually)

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? My family when I was drunk

36: Do you give out second chances too easily? Depends who it is, but mainly yes

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? Forgive

38: Is this year the best year of your life? No

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? In Primary school

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? As a child, yes

51: Favourite food? All foods I shouldn’t be eating 😂

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? Yes

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? Looked after my drunk mum and brother

54: Is cheating ever okay? No, its disgusting in my opinion.

55: Are you mean? Sometimes cause I’m blunt and I can be a little critical! I also don’t think before I speak

56: How many people have you fist fought? A few 😂

57: Do you believe in true love? Yes

58: Favourite Weather? Rain

59: Do you like the snow? I get frostbite and chilblains, but I still like it.

60: Do you wanna get married? I do

61Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? I think so 😍

62: What makes you happy? A lot of things, I’m easily pleased

63: Would you change your name? Not my first name, no

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? No cause it was my grandad!

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? I’d go out with all my guy mates 😂 I prefer it that way!

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? I do

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? My brother

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? My mum

69: Do you believe in soulmates? I do

70: Is there anyone you would die for? A hell of a lot of people

[lesmotsincompris]

Thoughts on Game of Thrones S07E07

It’s over. It doesn’t mean we won’t hear about the show anymore, as mainstream media tends to make a huge noise over every little rumour for the upcoming season, but at least we now have some distance between ourselves and a new episode of GoT. Let’s enjoy it.

I’ve heard that the critics are back to praising the show, which surprises me but also doesn’t. On the surprised side, I’ll give that this was better than S07E06, but it was still far from a good episode overall. On the unsurprised (but disappointed nevertheless) side, people praising GoT despite all the inconsistent characterizations, plot contrivances, awful dialogue, and shoddy worldbuilding isn’t exactly new. If this season was the breaking point for only a handful of people, I’m already happy.

We had an extra long episode and I have no idea why. There was a lot of stalling, especially in the King’s Landing subplot. It’s amazing how D&D can put useless crap on screen and actually relevant events and character development offscreen. Priorities.

I’ll probably post a season review at some point, but for Sunday’s episode here’s what I have:

King’s Landing

I’m gonna be honest: I watched this episode yesterday and I barely remember most of the dialogue now. This isn’t a very good effect for one of the most relevant gatherings in your entire series, but that’s hardly the first time one of the show-exclusive “big moments” didn’t work for me.

Part of the reason for that is the conga line of contrivances that led to this meeting. The removal of Aegon’s storyline from the books left Daenerys and Cersei to fight each other, with the septsplosion last season and the show-only Lannister poverty making the odds even worse for Cersei. To give the Lannisters a chance, D&D had #TeamDany coming up with stupid plan after stupid plan. Even so, they still have two dragons and the bigger army, while Cersei’s Golden Company is a Narrow Sea away; they could have ended the war in this episode if they wanted to. Why didn’t they try this instead of a truce?

You can argue this would weaken their forces against the army of dead, except: a) Dany accepted the idea of a truce even before she was fully convinced of said army’s existence; b) they should know better than to trust Cersei Lannister. Despite Cersei’s inconsistent characterization (Lena Headey is a goddess doing wonders with that character), I think we can all agree that nobody expected her to suddenly work for the good guys. The characters don’t know Cersei had her own pet zombie, but we do (and apparently everybody around her, since she keeps calling him Ser Gregor?) so the presence of the wight is hardly a game changer.

Other than that, there was a lot of walking and stalling and characters restating the same things they said before. Not very exciting. Though I legit enjoyed Qyburn’s necromancer bonner when he saw the wight.

But see, here’s a problem: we got more emphasis on secondary characters like Qyburn, Bronn, or the Hound than more important characters like Daenerys or Brienne. The Hound in particular got a lot of screen time this season and there was some heavy CleganeBowl foreshadowing, because of course D&D would do CleganeBowl. That’s why I keep calling the character “Hound” and not “Sandor”. What’s even character development. Or themes.

Brienne of Tarth said “fuck loyalty”. What’s next, Sansa Stark murdering a man out of revenge and smirking at the sound of his screams? Oh wait... 

What is Euron still doing in the story? There was a lot of teasing that he would be worse than Ramsay, but for the moment we got nothing. He’s Littlefinger 2.0: a shadow of his book self, damned because the showrunners don’t know what to do with him and can only think of stupid subplots to keep him around for some mysterious reason.

Cersei and Tyrion meeting is another evidence of how talented Headey and Dinklage are, yet the scene accomplished very little in terms of storytelling and characterization. The show barely explored the emotional consequences of Tywin’s murder for Tyrion, nearly dropping this entirely after season five, so it’s hard to feel it when he claims to hate himself for it. Shae got it even worse and her murder was forgotten altogether, something that I should have seen coming back in season four when they Greedo-ed her death scene.

It’s hard to believe Cersei would pass a chance of killing Tyrion, even without the valonqar prophecy. Why did they do this? It makes Cersei even more inconsistent (they’re certainly not gonna redeem her character or anything) and makes Tyrion’s plot armor even more obvious. This was the show that seven seasons ago would have responded Tyrion’s “give him the order” with “Ser Gregor, kill him”, followed by Tyrion dead. Ned and Robb Stark did not die for this.

Speaking of Ned, I can’t stand those references to R+L=J (A?). Seriously, guys, this isn’t clever, especially not in a show with so many dick jokes. We got it the first ten times.

Jon is an essentially good character in the books, but the show is trying to make him a saint. A dumb saint, of course, because again being honorable and honest is framed as stupidity and cleverness is something evil. Just a reminder: Ned Stark lied too. In fact, one of his biggest lies became this show’s hero, but I don’t expect D&D to notice that.

I still don’t know wtf they want with the Cersei pregnancy subplot. Cersei and Jaime seemed to have broken up for good, but we thought that before and we were wrong. Particularly when Cersei became the personification of Jaime’s worst nightmares, performing the act that he broke his vows to prevent. But hey, nothing stands in the way of true love, right?

Speaking of true love, the show romance of Jon and Daenerys is finally a worse love story than Twilight.

Things I legit enjoyed: the snow falling in King’s Landing. A bit sudden, but still a beautiful sequence.

Dragonstone

Everything about Theon was infuriating.

First we had more fellating of Jon, with both him and Theon stating their characters and motivations. This is lazy writing, pure and simple. If the audience isn’t already aware of Theon’s identity conflict, D&D have done a poor job as writers and this scene won’t fix it.

Here’s another thing: as much as I love the Starks, Theon doesn’t owe them anything. He wasn’t a bastard or a ward, he was a hostage. He was taken to Winterfell specifically so Ned could kill him in retaliation in case Balon did anything stupid (something he was likely to do because Balon).

Plus we already had Theon realizing the Starks were his true family back in season… three? Four? This shouldn’t come as a huge revelation, and least of all from Jon. What’s the emotional significance of Theon and Jon’s relationship in the show? This moment, if we needed it, should have happened with Sansa or Bran, two Stark kids he had an actual on screen relationship with.

Worse, how does Theon claims his place among the Ironborn? With toxic masculinity! The fight scene was overly long, entirely unnecessary, and terribly offensive. I missed the whole kick-in-the-crotch thing and I’m glad I did because I might have thrown something at my TV. D&D have a repulsive track record in dealing with trauma and PTSD, and Theon’s in particular, but this was a whole new level. Mutilation and torture aren’t funny and shouldn’t be used as a joke. I can’t believe I have to actually say this!

Ugh, fuck this show.

Winterfell

I have to confess actually I enjoyed the Winterfell scenes, despite everything that led to them.

Again the show is damned by the poor foundation they establish for their big moments. Yes, watching Littlefinger exposed by Sansa is almost wish fulfillment, but there’s no reason this shouldn’t have happened earlier this season other than the writers really, really wanting to save it for the last episode. In order to achieve that, they came with the stupidest subplot of the entire series, putting Sansa and Arya against each other for reasons you can find only in the most insane and misogynistic posts on Reddit.

There’s no way to take this back. We have no indication that Arya and Sansa were pretending to fight this whole time and a few clues that they weren’t, so in the end Arya still threatened to rip her sister’s face off. This is disturbing and I refuse to ignore it. Yes, having the two sisters finally bonding is nice for a change, but nothing will give me back the brain cells that I lost watching the Winterfell plot this season.

Again women bond over murder, but at least this time they did it better: a public trial, with all of Littlefinger’s crimes listed, a clean execution, and no smirks of empowerment.

There are also minor nitpicks, such as Bran’s visions now counting as evidence, the fact that nobody had any reaction to Littlefinger’s crimes or execution, Sansa calling herself stupid, or the old “one Stark sister couldn’t have survived what the other did” debate. Get out of fuckin’ westeros.org forums, D&D!

Everybody misses Ned, but not Catelyn. Or Robb. Or Raccoon.

On a boat/Dornish lush forest

Boatsex did not live up to its hype. This was supposed to be the culmination of Jon and Daenerys’ feelings for each other, and… well, now that I phrase it this way, it was: it was just as bland and forced as all of their interactions this season. I thought I would remember Team America’s sex scene and I wasn’t disappointed with myself.

The editing was kinda weird too, jumping straight to some auntie fucking, with a seemingly jealous Tyrion lurking and a Robot-Bran voice over completing the creepiness. Okay.

So. The R+L=J revelation. There’s so much wrong with this scene I would need a whole essay tearing it apart. In fact, I may actually write one later this week. That’s how angry I am. A little preview, then.

We often speculate what show events will be or won’t be in the books in some form. Stannis burning Shireen or “hold the door” are likely to happen, though under very different circumstances. R+L=J is one of such events, and we know this revelation will happen in the books too. Among all fan theories, this is the strongest, considered canon by most readers.

It won’t happen in the books like this. There’s a lot about this scene that directly contradicts canon, both book and show. Maybe D&D don’t realize this because they’re hacks, but that hardly makes things better. This isn’t the first deliberate change to the source material, of course, but it’s one of the easiest to avoid and one with terrible implications.

First things first: Robert’s Rebellion didn’t just happen because Rhaegar abducted Lyanna, it happened because Aerys murdered Rickard and Brandon Stark when they demanded answers on this abduction, and then requested Ned and Robert’s heads. In doing so Aerys gave the middle finger to the entire feudal contract in the worst possible way, so he had to be removed. That Lyanna and Rhaegar loved each other doesn’t change this in the slightest. The Rebellion was still entirely justified.

So. Love. Maybe Rhaegar and Lyanna loved each other, but how long did it last? The murder of Rickard and Brandon Stark is show canon too. At some point Rhaegar learned about this, because the fight at the Trident happened. You know, Ragger was such a great guy that he decided the best course of action was to leave a pregnant Lyanna isolated in a tower and go fight defending his mad father. All of that is also show canon, by the way.

At what point did Lyanna learned that her father-in-law murdered her father and brother? Was she in a baby-making mood after that? If she never learned, it’s also bad because Rhaegar knew, and then we have rape by omission. If she did learn, at some point she became a prisoner in a tower.

Even if somehow there’s an explanation for all this that makes Rhaegar come out as a good guy, there’s still the fact that he was a 20-something, married and with two children, and the fuckin’ crown prince. There’s a huge power imbalance in their relationship, so in the best case scenario we have a dubious consent.

All that is to say: don’t romanticize Rhaegar and Lyanna. Don’t romanticize because Rhaegar was a douchebag and even if Lyanna was on board in the beginning, at some point she deeply regretted this.

Not happy with that, the show was also extra cruel with Elia Martell. It’s almost ironic, given that show-favorite Oberyn Martell gave his life so that the suffering of his sister Elia was acknowledged. D&D didn’t learn their lesson.

Before Rhaegar ran away with Lyanna, he and Elia had two children, one of them a boy named Aegon. This was also established in the show, including Aegon’s name. Aegon was the heir to the crown, but dissolving the marriage between Rhaegar and Elia means disinheriting him and his sister, thus removing House Martell from the succession line. Quite shitty, huh? It doesn’t even make sense politically, since Rhaegar would lose the only major house supporting him. I can’t see what he would gain with that, we have no indication he hated Elia and his kids that much, and Targ polygamy was a thing the show could totally have used if they really wanted Jon as a legit child. Oh no, but he must be a child of monogamous true love.

Worse, he must bear Aegon’s name. Why would Rhaegar have two children named Aegon? That’s just plain stupid. I can’t help but think they wanted this so Jon could bear Aegon the Conqueror’s name, a name fit of a true hero. Not honorable nice foster father Jon Arryn, no. That’s not heroic enough.

When I watch a bad show, I like to play a game: what’s the worse thing they may want with a scene?

With this one I got: they want to romanticize rape, erase a woman of color and her children, and turn Jon into the most cliche fantasy hero possible, precisely the type of character ASOIAF goes out of its way to criticize. But as much as this last part infuriates me, the first two are still more offensive, and frankly dangerous.

Fuck you, D&D. Fuck you with a Valyrian sword. I’m done with tolerating your unfortunate implications.

There’s something rotten in fantasy if we still cheer this kind of narrative.

Oh yeah, and the Wall fell. It was pretty. All very predictable too. The only thing surprising me in this show is how gross it can be to give us the most white-centered, male-centered cliche fantasy story possible. Maybe it is all about cocks in the end.

[infinitum-imaginaerum]

Blind // Yoo Kihyun - 15 [M]

Blind Chapter 14 / Fifteen / Blind Chapter 16

It all made sense now.

Wonho continued to smile as he looked at you before peeling the rest of the bloodied gauze off just to turn his back to you. You looked over it, a dark burn scar on his shoulder that marred his skin. Now you understood. You understood why they picked here; you understood why Kihyun was with you now, Minhyuk, himself. It all made sense.

“H-Ho-Hoseok,” you stuttered.

It made sense why he was healed. Why he didn’t die on the spot considering how much he was bleeding and how long it took until you were finally able to get to him. You always knew it was suspicious, but maybe he just was lucky.

But luck had nothing to do with it.

“I haven’t seen you up close since I was five,” he said. “You don’t even recognize your own brother.”

“You died, Hoseok…” you tried to understand, even though he was standing right in front of you.

“I would have died; I would have died if mom didn’t sacrifice herself for me.”

It was a part of your past, of your mother’s past you didn’t know much about. But it was all coming together. Your mother was never stupid enough to go rushing into flames for no reason, but there was a reason—her youngest child, her son, had been trapped to lure your mother.

“You don’t even know, do you? You don’t even know that dad’s company went behind his back and could have killed both of us for this forest. Dad kept you so far in the dark, and tried to your whole life. He gave you enough to keep your spite, but he never told you the truth.”

“And what about you? Where did you go?” you asked, your head spinning with all of this new information, with your brother Hoseok standing right in front of you.

“I stayed with aunty, I didn’t have a choice. Dad was never going to keep me around you while you had to train—”

“But I trained with aunty, too, and you were never there.”

“Yeah, and dad was always gone.”

“How come you never said anything to us?” Kihyun asked from the doorway, having heard quite a bit of the conversation at this point. Yours and Wonho’s head twisted to look at him. You cursed audibly, the situation more of a mess than it was before at this point. “You knew, all along, that if you left me out there to die, I would live; how come you didn’t just say that?”

“You’d ask too many questions, Kihyun. I’ve spent four years enough to know exactly how you are,” he replied. “On top of that, if those guys had known that I had ties to this forest, we would never be here, and I probably would be long dead, do you understand that?”

“Leave him alone,” you said, pushing on Wonho’s shoulder, but he was mostly unfazed as he continued to stare Kihyun down.

“I risked so much for you and Minhyuk, dammit, and you’re just gonna sit here like oh why didn’t you say anything like there was so much more I could have done. I’m not the strong one, Kihyun. I can’t bend earth or control the weather. I heal fast and on a good day can manipulate fire but it’s never a guarantee. She got more of my mom’s genes, I got more of my dad’s.” he explained.

Kihyun was looking back on it now. He could remember catching Wonho now and again shifting the fire, watching his hands move the same way yours did when you shifted the earth. Every little thing he had noticed about Wonho that seemed strange or off, he knew why now.

It was the biggest shock, really. You were enough for him to try and wrap his head around, but Wonho was a whole other story. Kihyun was suddenly hyper aware of everything he’d seen, everything he’d noticed about Wonho. The way he acted so differently around the other guys by comparison of him and Minhyuk; like he was hiding something—because he was.

Wonho took a step towards Kihyun, but you shot your arm out across his body to stop him as you stared at him. You could hear his thoughts, something you didn’t understand until now. There was a reason you always knew of their plans, there was a reason there was so much said without anything being said at all.

He was angry with Kihyun. No, not with Kihyun; he was just angry in general. But he was disturbed with the way Kihyun just stood there staring at him as if he had ten heads. Your gaze shifted from Wonho to Kihyun who just continued to stare at Wonho for moment before his eyes shifted to you.  It wasn’t until Wonho shoved your arm away that you looked back to him. “You’re damn right I’m salty about all of this. Am I thankful that these two are alive? Yes, more than anything. But I’m pissed beyond belief that you didn’t kill Jooheon. I’ve very disappointed in you,” he said, talking to you directly.

“She’s not a killer, Wonho,” Kihyun interjected. Wonho rolled his eyes back over to the younger boy. “You can’t expect one heart to have two opposite passions,” he continued.

“What do you think you know of her heart, Kihyun?” Wonho asked, raising his eyebrows, already intrigued with whatever Kihyun could possibly come up with.

“I don’t know, Wonho,” he started sarcastically, “Maybe I know her heart from the way she took care of me, the way she saved Minhyuk, the way she fought of all four of the guys just to come over to fucking save your ass. The most selfless and caring heart I’ve ever come into contact with. I know if she wanted to, she could have killed them. I know if she wanted to, she could have killed me when I almost killed her. But she didn’t.”

Kihyun’s gaze glanced at you for a moment, catching your stare before shifting back.

“Maybe I know her heart because she’s shown it to me,” he added.  “And I think I know a little more of it than you.”

Wonho chuckled as he looked at the younger male. But it wasn’t a funny laugh, it was a challenging laugh.

“You can argue about this later. Jooheon’s out there and he’s going after Minhyuk first. Dad said he’d be there, so when Minhyuk’s gone, he’ll be heading here,” you interrupted, your arm low but still out enough to stop Wonho if he were to near Kihyun again.

“He’s just human, it will be a day or so before he gets here on foot.”

“How can he even remember where it is? Didn’t you say if blood was spilt on this earth, they’d never remember?” Kihyun asked.

“Not if we’re the ones that spilt it,” Wonho interjected.  “And I know for a fact you got a pretty good slash on him,” he said, looking at you.

You looked away from the both of them. Hoseok had returned from the dead, it seemed. Kihyun was here by his will. He was just now finding everything out, and you were finding out a lot for yourself, too. It was all a little overwhelming so you quickly excused yourself from the room, the air feeling too thick to breathe and you pushed passed Kihyun despite his pleas for you to wait.

“Don’t,” Wonho said as Kihyun turned to go after you. “Give her some space. She needs to process everything right now.”

Kihyun respected that, and him and Wonho spent the rest of the day in the main room. The air was uncomfortable, now that the cat was out of the bag. Wonho spent the day in his own thoughts, thinking up a plan, preparing for the worst. He didn’t even notice any time Kihyun would look over at him. The TV was just white noise in the background of Wonho’s thoughts, of Kihyun trying to figure him out—trying to figure this whole thing out. He was getting worried about you, too. The sun was setting and you still hadn’t come out of your room yet.

The second hand on the clock ticked, and ticked, and ticked.

And ticked.

And ticked.

And Kihyun was about to lose his mind if he had to listen to it anymore, not even the TV able to drown out that horrific sound. It seemed to magnify in his head, to take up all of his attention, to sit and pound even when he closed his eyes to try to block it out.

He slapped his hands down on the couch to push himself off of it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Wonho asked, slightly interrupted by Kihyun’s small outburst.

“To check on her,” he replied, not a second to listen to Wonho’s protest as his feet hit the stairs. He climbed them speedily and came to your door to reach for the knob, but when he tried to turn it, it was locked.  He called your name quietly, turning the back of his hand to the door to gently rap on the hard wood.

“It’s me, let’s talk,” he muttered, loud enough you’d be able to hear, but there was no answer or any sound of movement. He pressed his hands fully up against the door before his ear, listening closely for anything.

The lock turned and clicked, causing Kihyun to jolt back a little bit. The door creaked open, but you weren’t in your bed, you weren’t in the chair by the window—curtains drawn—and you weren’t anywhere he could see with the simple scan through your room only the light from the small fireplace allowing him to see.

He whispered your name and stepped into your room. The door closed and locked behind him and he turned to look, but you still weren’t there. His eyes shot back to the middle of your room and he called your name a little louder this time. He could see the light peeking under the bathroom door and assumed you were in there. His feet carried him slowly towards the bathroom, knocking on the door once he arrived and called your name again.

The door opened to reveal you, your eyes straight forward into his chest and he let out a sharp exhale. You stepped into him, into his chest to wrap your arms around his middle. He took you in tight, an arm around your shoulders and a hand on the back of your head as you buried your face into his neck. No tears slipped from your eyes, your breathing was fine, you didn’t seem to be distressed, you just needed a safe space, and Kihyun was that safe space.

“I’m scared,” you whispered into his neck.

“Why?” Kihyun asked.

“I’m scared I’m not going to make it another day; the forest is restless, Kihyun. The last time it was like this was when my mother died,” you explained to him.

He shifted a bit, pushing you forward to lean out of his neck. “You’re going to make it; we’re all going to make it. Jooheon is nothing. I know you’re scared because you’re not the type, but you have Wonho now.”

He was just trying to comfort you, and you understood that, but it just wasn’t enough right now. You’d spend all day thinking of all possible outcomes, and every time you’d always find yourself back in the ground. “Can I just ask one huge favor, in case I don’t make it?” you asked.

“Of course,” he said, cupping your cheeks. “Anything.”

You stepped towards him, pushing him back and shut the bathroom lights off. The door closed behind you just as your lips were on his in a soft, tender, closed mouth kiss. A couple more followed, and a couple more. Kihyun’s hands that were previously on your cheeks were on your hips now as he welcomed your sweet kisses, your arms draping around his neck as your back hit the bathroom door.  

He was getting the hint, more or less. You wanted to leave this world with no regrets, and you’d regret not doing this. You were on your toes for him, his mouth slanting over yours to taste the inside of your mouth, tongue swiping yours teasingly before withdrawing, tempting your tongue to follow, but it didn’t.  

Ending the kiss, he tugged your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked you, his eyes already misty as the opened half way to look at you. He watched you heave for air just a little bit, trying to catch your breath as you nodded.

“Please,” you replied before his mouth was back on yours. His hands that previously entertained your hips were entwined with yours now, pinning them up above your head until they were pinned by one of his hands. The other traveled back down from where it came, touching your hip, bare now from your raised shirt. His fingertips tickled your skin, goosebumps rose across the plane of your stomach before his whole hand was flat on your midsection.

He could feel your wrists tugging in his large hand, trying to pull down when he touched you just right. You were humming into his mouth for the time being, smothering ticklish noises which he gratefully swallowed. His hips were pinning you to the door, so even if your hands were free, there probably wasn’t any escaping.  

When your hands finally were free, they knotted in his shirt, both of his hands touching up your stomach at this point as his lips entertained your neck. Your head lulled to the side the more he kissed up and up and up until he nipped under your jaw, eliciting an almost silent moan and a harsh tug on the front of his shirt. His fingertips tickled your ribcage until they traced the underwire of your bra and immediately moved back down.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him quietly, unable to say much as your closed eyes were basically rolling into the back of your head, your nerves all on end, and you were sure if he was looking at your eyes your pupils would be blown to magnitudes beyond comprehension of how he made you feel. He was breathing hard into your neck, his hands trying to steady themselves. Was he fully prepared for this? Absolutely; but he was one hundred percent about your consent and even though you were giving it to him, he was still wary of your baby steps, which is what was causing some hesitation.

With your hands tugging at his shirt, wanting it off, he stepped away from you, giving you some space as his lungs searched for air. He unpinned you from the door and lifted his arms over his head, letting you tug that white cotton off and discard it to the floor. It was the first time you were really allowing yourself to get a good look at him. His skin glowed a hue of russet in the light of the crackling fire, mostly immaculate skin that you were now freely running your hands over from shoulders to waistband and everything in between.

His chest rose and fell as he watched you, a small amused grin on his lips as you felt every groove of his body, every scar and imperfection that were just the opposite—they were perfect.  He watched as you licked your lips. “Go ahead,” he prompted, lifting your gaze for only a second before your lips were on his skin, kissing across the expanse of his chest, following your fingers over his shoulders before they were on his neck.

An already slack jaw made it easy for rickety breaths and quiet sighs to slip out like nothing. Approving hums filled the air as you kissed seemingly every inch of skin from neck to sternum, your hands leading the way before he brought you back upright.

“My turn,” he rasped, turning the two of you around as he tugged the hem of your shirt, and just like him raised your arms above your head so he could pull it off. You watched him bite his lip as he looked over you, pupils long dilated as he drank in your skin until your knees caught the bed, landing you on your back. He looked down at you like you were his next meal, his hands already having grabbed your hips, tracing inane circles on him until he leaned down, peppering kisses above your navel and upwards until his lips were dragging over the lace of your lingerie to the swell of your breast and upwards still. To your clavicle, to the crook of your neck, to your ear to whisper into it how beautiful you were, and back down to the waistline of your shorts  which he wanted off no later than immediately.

Respectfully, though, he deemed it fair he always be more naked than you, first. He let you sit up, your puppy dog eyes glancing up at him as a finger traced your jaw. That lip still was pinned between his teeth, especially when you were face to face with the button of his jeans. Your hands were soft on his hips, thumbs tugging at that waistband as you peppered kisses below his navel. His hand pushed through your hair, tucking it away from your face until that wide hand cupped the back of your head.

His mouth fell open in a silent plea for more, eyes darting straight ahead when your teasing touch traveled up his thigh; his eyes clenched closed soon after that, a quiet moan falling from those same lips when you cupped a hand over him, sliding upwards to the button of his jeans to pop it open effortlessly. The zipper followed, sliding down to reveal a sliver of his dark gray underwear until you were pushing the dark denim off his hips and down his legs.

Kihyun’s uneven and rickety breathing screamed anticipation as his jeans pooled around his feet. His hand still occupied itself by combing through your hair, pulling it away from one shoulder and over the other, pushing it away from your face, tucking it behind your ear it didn’t really matter. The other hand dangled at his side, fingers twitching as he could basically feel your breath against him.

“No ma’am,” he muttered, feeling your fingers curl into the tight band of his underwear which he quickly pushed away. Though he agreed he should be the one losing clothes first, you still needed some off before he was ready to dawn his whole self in front of you. So, he pushed you down by the shoulders, your back hitting the cool comforter of your bed once again as his hands found your legs.

It wasn’t good enough, though. He dug his hands under your back, lifting you slightly to toss you higher onto the bed, giving himself room to crawl onto it. Your head pushed back into your pillow, a hand slapping over your mouth when his hot tongue graced the inside of your right thigh, his fingers busy teasing the outside until they grabbed the hem of the legs of your shorts.

“Up, baby,” he pleaded, leading you to plant both of your feet on the bed to lift high enough for him to tug your shorts down. Your hands were over your eyes, he was overwhelming you in the best way. The way he touched you, the way his hot mouth felt on your skin, the way he called you baby and the way it rolled off his tongue.

You could hear your shorts hit the ground, hyper aware of every noise around you until he asked you a simple question. “Do you still want me?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” you replied with confidence, despite hardly being able to find your voice, but you knew he heard you when the sound of a moan trying to pass zipped lips found your ears.

“How bad?” he asked, watching you, feeling you shiver under his touch as a hand smoothed across your lower abdomen.

“So bad,” you replied, burying your eyes in the crook of the elbow of your left arm, the other hand clasping around his wrist but not really guiding him anywhere.

“Can I check just to make sure?” he asked and could barely see you nod behind your arm.

His breath was at your ear as he pressed a gentle kiss against it before your temple, his body eclipsing yours, a hand that would have been on either side of you but only one resided to your right. That other hand gently guided your left leg out and you could feel both of his legs caging your right leg.

A sharp inhale fell into Kihyun’s ear before a swallowed a muffled whimper, his fingers touching your most sensitive area. It was only fair, you’d already given him a pretty good stroke, so it was your turn now—that’s how this was going down. He cupped you between the legs, brow drawing together as he wanted to hiss, but his lips were currently occupied by yours. He could feel your desire for him, the heat radiating off you through your panties and it only drove him that much more over the edge.

Your hands pawed at his hair, gripping chunks on the back of his head now and again as he moved his fingers as much as he could for his hand being pinched tight between your legs, his initial administration causing your legs to fly closed, pinching his leg also.  You were panting when his lips departed from yours, your eyes never wanting to leave his even as he sat up, his free hand taking one of yours to bring it back to the ridge in his underwear, the same ridge you had no problem teasing earlier. He cupped your hand against him, eyes falling closed and brow drawing together once again as you immediately rubbed on your own.

He felt incredibly thick in your hand and you could feel him pulse as more blood rushed through him. His hand left yours to push through his hair, pushing it away from his face until he gripped the back of his neck. “Oh, my god,” he muttered, letting his head fall back when you pushed his hand away from you so you could sit up and give him more of that sweet friction he wanted.

“Easy, easy, easy,” he pleaded, his hand slowing yours. It wasn’t that he didn’t love it—he did—it was just an experience he hadn’t had in quite some time. “Save some for you,” he reminded you with a soft chuckle, chin coming back down so he could look at you. His hair fell back over his eyes as he looked at you utterly adoringly. His thumb and index finger took your chin, tilting your face up to him so he could take your lips in a sweet kiss, unlike the ones before.

Your fingers were nagging his waistband again. Admittedly, you were a little eager, but Kihyun was completely compliant and gave you the go ahead. You pulled them down from the back at first, pulling them half way down his rear until you slid your fingers around, gently tugging the fabric away from his body and over his manhood. From there, it was smooth sailing until his underwear was on the floor.

He blushed as you marveled, turning his face away from yours. “Kihyun,” you called quietly, bringing his attention back to you. Your face tilted up for him, eyes fluttering closed before his lips were even on yours, but they were there soon enough. You lead one of his hands up to your shoulder, to the strap of your bra, and silently encouraged him to slide it off. He wasn’t about to play small games, though, and his fingers were on the clasp in less than two seconds. Your panties fell to the floor soon after and there you were, under him, just as naked.

One hand was under the arch of your back, pulling you into him, his lips on your neck and downward, the other hand steadying himself as he hovered over you, your legs already on either side of his knees. He quickly acquainted the front of his body with yours, settling between your legs to rest part of his weight on your lower half as his mouth took yours. Your hands ran over the expanse of his warm back, tracing the scars that crossed it, but adoring them just the same until you were ready.

“I want you,” you whispered into his ear and you could feel him shiver beneath your fingers and against the front of your body.

“Do you want to get a—”

“Are you clean?” you asked.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, swallowing hard when you nodded, giving him the go ahead. He back up off you, sitting on his legs between yours. His hands rubbed down the inside of your thighs as he looked over you, all of you. Suddenly, he was nervous. Nervous, but not uncomfortable. Nervous, because he felt something in his heart that was different. The inside of your calves stroked against the outside of his thighs comfortingly and encouragingly as he sat there for a moment. He shifted, sitting higher up to poise himself to you. He watched your face the whole time, pressing the head against the slit of your womanhood to give you a solid swipe. Such a simple ministration had your legs dying to come together, clenching his hips as he blocked you.

“God damn,” he muttered and you looked at him as if something was wrong.  He leaned over to your ear, the most satisfied grin on his lips. “You’re so damn wet for me, it’s unbelievable,” he whispered, pressing a burning kiss against your equally as burning cheek before he pulled back. Poised for entrance, he tugged the back of your knees, positioning you just right for him. He leaned back forward, planting a hand on either side of you for the time being; he was ready to cover your mouth the second he pushed in.

Sure enough, his lips were on yours, swallowing your plea as if it was his life-source as he eased into you. Your legs hooked on his immediately, hands on his shoulders as he filled you up. He took one of your hands, pinning it to the bed after lacing your fingers as he wiggled his hips a little, helping you adjust to him.  His lips parted from yours for a second, your panting breath against his face. “Wonho’s just downstairs, so you’re going to have to try to keep quiet, okay?” he asked you.

You nodded, watching his eyes close, lip between his teeth for the nth time as he withdrew a little. Your mouth fell open, any semblance of sound trapped in your throat even as you could feel the ridge of him tickle you just right before he pushed back in. Your nails scraped his back, head pressing back into the pillow, his pace slow but steady.

Shallow pants and small whines filled the air of your room, the only other sound besides Kihyun’s breathing and quiet moans was the crackling of the fire in the background. Kihyun tried to keep you busy with occasional sweet kisses to your lips, gentle licks and nips on your neck when you flung your head to the side when he’d buck a little too hard or hit you just right. He worshipped you, hands all over your body; anywhere you wanted them to touch you just right. Occasionally he’d reach down and take the back of your knee, pulling your leg at a certain angle that had you wild.

“Baby, hush...” he’d soothe you when he thought you were getting a tad too loud.

“How do you expect me to be silent when you make me want to scream?” you groaned, back arching off the bed, head pushing back into the pillow, nails clawing into his forearm as he bucked up. “And I know it’s only going to get worse,” you added and a wicked grin tugged his lips. And oh, did they get worse.

He pushed your legs up, adjusting them onto his shoulders and turned his head to kiss your ankle, his had smoothing over your leg all the way down to your knee before he leaned towards you. He cursed audibly, eyes closing with yours as his pace picked up. You were so tight around him, you could feel it. You could feel every inch of him move in and out of you and you had to grip your covers for grounding.

“Oh, my god; ohhh fuck,” you uttered—getting something out was better than trying to stay totally quiet. His hands were soft on your shins, holding your legs as your ankles wanted nothing more but to hook together behind his neck.

“You’re getting so tight,” Kihyun muttered to you, a small hiss of inhaled air, his eyes closed tight as he continued to work you. Eventually your legs fell back around him, on his hips as his hands planted to the sides of you again. He was basically sitting butterfly now, feet together underneath his rear as his hips snapped into you. Any noise you’d made up until that point was nothing compared to the echo of his hips crashing into yours and that’s when you really wanted to let them fly.

It almost took more than your teeth sinking into Kihyun’s neck to keep you quiet. The pain just meant he was doing his job. You were sliding up and down the same inch of the bed, your backboard dying to beat against the wall if it were any closer. Kihyun’s hand grabbed your hip, steadying himself as the other wiped the beaded sweat off his forehead. You didn’t even care about yours, but his skin was getting sticky against yours, sweat intermingling even as his other hand found your other hip.  

“Do you want to finish yet?” he asked you.

“I do, but I don’t,” you whined back, finally finding the strength to straight your head and look at him as it rested the pillow. You reached out, fingertips brushing against his chest. “I do because I feel like I’m going to explode, but I don’t because I love the way you feel,” you spoke through the stale air, his pace having slowed significantly so you could speak. It was almost a snail’s pace, but being able to feel every detail of him was just that much more satisfying. “I’m ready when you’re ready,” you finished.

“I got you,” he said, nodding, barely able to even look at you his eyes were so glazed over and half-lidded.

His pace picked up again and you were trying so hard to keep quiet. Your jaw was constantly clenched, your hands searching for things to do, occasionally you’d whine his name, telling him how he made you feel, how he got you so good, just right.

Soon, Kihyun’s breathing got really labored, choppy moans slipped from his lips here and there and his pace was faltering a bit. It was time.

“Babe…” he muttered—it was all he could get out. You motioned him to lean down, enough so you could kiss him, enough so you could wipe the sweat from his forehead, enough that you could push his hair back and knot your hand in it, enough that his lower abdomen was rubbing on you just right when he’d thrust—you’d be done in no time.  “O-Oh, oh fuck,” he whimpered as you clenched around him. His nose scrunched up, eyes closed tight, lips pulled back over his teeth; that face that just drove you insane.

Soon, you couldn’t look at him anymore; soon, you couldn’t even see anything but white as your head smashed back into the pillow, back arching so high off the bed you thought you’d break in half, your throat clenching to keep quiet but still so desperate to scream for him. Your nails clawed at the bed, barely able to feel the fact that Kihyun’s thrusts were sloppy at best. You could feel his hot breath on your collar, on your neck; you could hear your name in his weak voice before he kissed your cheek. You could hardly distinguish between your clenching and his pulsing; all you knew was that you were spent and finally coming down from your high.

Kihyun weakly pecked your cheek as you finally made it back to earth. Your labored breathing mixed with his as he propped himself over you on his elbows. The both of you were still for some time before he pulled out, sending your nerves in a tizzy after finally being able to calm down. You shuddered, uncontrolled, and he pressed a kiss below your navel as he got off the bed to clean up.

You just lay there, trying to find your head somewhere in the clouds. In the distance of your mind, you could hear the faucet run for a moment, hear the creak of your floorboards as Kihyun came back, underwear strapped to his hips. In the distance of your absent mind, you could feel him lift you up and let you slump into him as he shirted you with his tee. Somehow you directed him to your lingerie drawer to fetch you clean underwear which he slipped onto your hips.

In the distance of your mind you could hear him confess his love, and in that same distance, you could remember yourself confessing the same.