#also sams part is too short but i am too lazy to go back and edit

[autistook]

Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

[fictionfixations]

wiki

I FIGURED OUT HOW PEOPLE ADD STUFF ON THE WIKI

there's TEMPLATES

(god i feel like sebek with all these caps)

ive mostly just been seeing how other people do it and referencing it (cause there's specific names for things. like the navigation box for events having its own thing and a specific name for its 'type')

so so.

You know that one post I made sharing Azul's birthday bloom lines because it wasn't on the wiki? I ADDED THOSE

not the recordings tho because i dont know how to do it and i dont think recent-ish cards have those audio files (you basically add stuff from a sort of 'storage'. Like. you put in the name and it just. appears. like, for card type or something like that you put in the card name, like, say, 'Birthday Bloom', and that card appears there. its cool.)

i dont know how to explain it.

I did it for tsumsitter kalim too

and then because i am insane i did his vignette too (MY HANDS HATE ME). im so bad at describing how the tsum moves around. it was repetitive with 'hops'

because i am undescriptive (also the tsumsitter doesn't have a icon as far as i can tell. so most of the parts with tsumsitter kalim i just switched to his dorm uniform one. but for that one bit where he picks up the tsum i set it to tsumsitter. so its just. red. ALSO i KNOW its tsumsitter because i went to riddle's and checked what outfit name they used for him and its Tsumsitter.)

i got lazy and stopped describing when it left. so if anyone wants to go do that be my guest.

anyway i dont know if there's some special thing for when a time skip happens. like when there's a black swipe to signify talking/time skip so. fshuif

i dont know how to add him to the vignettes box either so. whoops. (i didnt even know there was a vignette navigation box ngl)

and because. for some odd reason i like doing this. i added chapter 5-1, 5-2, and 7-1 of Sam's New Year Sale 2024 (That's Pomefiore's bit, and then Diasomnia's visit. contemplating adding Diasomnia's leave too but my hands hurt). because those are pretty short and dont make me die inside (everything else is so absurdly long and at that point when i feel like stopping i just dont want to leave it unfinished like that yknow?? so i just keep going until im done and then die inside)

i dont think there's a file for the hagoita thingy??? the paddle. thing. i know in some chapters in other stuff it shows images of the item itself. but i looked back to when it was first introduced and there's no image of it showing it. and i tried searching for the file but nothing. so. it prob doesnt exist.

anyway if there's any typos im sorry. its more noticeable on stuff like the name and outfit cuz any typos mess it up, but on text, unless it has that red squiggly, im blind

[notasapleasure]

Stupidly long playlist to go with the stupidly long fic. In short, it follows a kind of meandering path from Icelandic youth to swaggering mercenary behaviour on the continent, to service in the Varangian guard in Constantinople. It is very much in an order I chose, and should be listened to in order. I designed it to have them coming closer together and parting ways at various points, and it follows a very rough outline I have for three 'books'' worth of adventures.

Bit more info about each track under the cut, but basically it's Weird FolkTM, Icelandic rock, a smattering of prog, and some entirely self-indulgent pop picks.

Sumer is icumen in - you may know from Wicker Man soundtrack? Everyone's go to creepy folk song because it's one of the oldest. Included because of cuckoo theme. Kólbítur - Icelandic term for 'coal-biter', a character type in medieval stories and folk tales. Usually a lazy boy who rolls around in the hearth ashes as a child getting in the way of the women. After some trauma he is usually revealed to be a great hero, who just needed a bit of goading on. Vísur Vatnsenda-Rósu well known Icelandic ballad, full of longing and intertwined personhood: 'mine was yours and yours was mine'. Nitlayokoya - kind of a spoiler for the fic, but Cassian isn't actually a 'skraeling' (Norse name for the American peoples encountered around Newfoundland), he's from...way further south. This song has the same title as poem by Nezahualcoyotl, meaning 'I am Sad', though this wasn't composed until the fifteenth century. Get Out of My House is based on The Shining, so there's the link to Native American land, and there's shapeshifting in the song too. Seems a good angry bb Cassian song. Filthy Game a stranger and a good man gets drawn into the locals' 'filthy game'. The Devil & the Huntsman mainly for the Sam Lee, but also a rollicking banger from the King Arthur soundtrack. Vibes. The Dark general foreshadowing and vibes. Don't Say No - there's a lot of Patrick Wolf on there, this is early Patrick Wolf urging us to run with our instincts :)) and teeth. Shapeshifter there's also a lot of Richard Dawson in various iterations on here because he does Weird Folk like no one else. Shapeshifter so impressive he's even handing out potatos pre-Colombian exchange. Pagan Poetry best fucked up Björk song everrrr. 'He makes me want to hurt myself'. To Try for the Sun just boys being lads, sharing coats and hanging out on the streets, nothing to see here. Teardrop this is how you do a cover. Theseus 'A black sail billows, the sun hits your blade / And you are hungry, you are hungry for you'. Jolly Bold Robber I love the way Nic Jones sings this. A 'jolly bold robber' attacks a young sailor who's just come ashore with his earnings and they fight - moral is don't fight a desperate sailor who wants to spend his shore leave well. But the way Nic Jones sings 'like lambkins they've stripped' sure is something. And the apology in the sailor's voice for killing his attacker. Feels very Cassian. Two Brothers - any folksong 'and they were brothers' me: 'what if they were ""brothers""?' Here with wrestling matches, bruised egos, pocket-knife stabbings and regret. The Best Excuse in the World I remember seeing this live and David Rotheray explained it as being about a gay man realising he has 'the best excuse in the world' for not loving his wife, but the way Jim Causley sings it erases any of the triteness of that, it's gorgeous. Go Your Way classic 'I love you so much I'm letting you go' folk song. Nonantzin another Nezahualcoyotl poem, this one asking mother to cry for her child when he dies. Crown Shyness is just one of my Brassian songs. Growing up together but not quite being brave enough to reach out to each other. Raincatchers ditto, also shut up I love it.

We used to be the raincatchers And we couldn't see what we were running from You made me feel like Nothing really matters Here in my dreams, we're raincatchers Come back to me like it was before You made me feel like Nothing really matters, nothing really matters If we let this run Caught on a river Everything that we left unspoken Will never be said Revenge of the Bear instrumental, for the title mainly. Who could it refer to, you ask? Animalia whaaaat it's from the soundtrack to my favourite film, also fucked up love and animal imagery. Daring Highwayman getting into the Norwegian/continental mercenary/troublemaking part of their careers now, Cassian definitely makes robery seem cool. Hare Spell he also makes shapeshifting seem cool. Because it is. Stendur æva is about nine minutes long but it's essential I'm afraid. Played on a glockenspiel made from Icelandic rock, I usually LOATHE your man from Sigur Rós and his squeaky voice, but he sort of sounds like a seagull in this, and it features the then head of the Icelandic folk singing club, who has a lovely voice. It's all bullshit medievalism about 'Odin magic' but it sounds fucking amazing. VIBES I SAY. Trøllabundin this is tumblr, you all know about Eivør Pálsdóttir here, right? Ogre more Richard Dawson! But this time the community is not so happy with the outsider figure on its edges. Twa Corbies is a pan-European folk song with pretty old roots. Pov: you are a corvid observing the body of a dead knight. Villon Song high medieval roots for this poem about all the cool things you can do to break the law. Bwganod Richard Dawson AND FRIENDS this time. The title is Welsh for 'scarecrow', which doesn't really have any bearing on things, but the following lines are just relevant, ok Always jokey-woking ‘Til the shit hits the fan Spray my face in fertiliser Grow a mos-toosh Hairy pits Super fit Built like a brick shit Wearing leopard-print Fishnet underpants

I’m on the run, Barely began Gathering sun, but I’ll take my time I’m overrun The damage is done Everyone’s gonna sink into the slime Hellismanna kvæði for the 1990s girl rock!! Also it's an outlaw song. Strákarnir á Borginni means 'the boys on the town' and is a camp tango about the hypocrisy of 1980s homophobic farmers in Iceland. I've posted it here before, it's iconique. Fin Cop a more tragic outlaw song. Nobody loves a troll. Escape oh just for the Vibes, because Plunkett & Macleane has the energy I want my outlaw saga to have. The Night Safari much more recent Patrick Wolf about love not being enough to stop self-destructive tendencies. Also shapeshifters. Excuse me While I shift shape The ocelot Slips the bowline knot But soon falls to prey As a boy I worshipеd the thunder Now it's just a sky under I wait for to fall No why only whеn Still Too Soon to Know yes yes blorbo got on the playlist. Pleasingly few pronouns in this. After all they've been through, surely Brasso would know? Á Sprengisandi is a jolly Icelandic folk song about riding across the highland interior on the main path. There's unclean spirits! Outlaws! Elves! All those fun guys. Ten Thousand Miles just another nice travelling song :)) Oh come ye back My own true love And stay a while with me If I had a friend On this Earth You've been a friend to me Dodona more recent Patrick Wolf going through it. Night Ride Across the Caucasus I'm not sure yet precisely what route they'll be taking by this stage but you've gotta have some Loreena on a medievalish playlist. Anyone But Me what pining would be complete without some jealous misunderstandings? This is such a sinister and sexy song of obsession and it's a fave. Ivy to go with the general move towards the cradle of ancient civilisationTM this is more Richard Dawson (and DIFFERENT friends, these ones Finnish metalheads) this time telling Dionysus's story. Hey Matt if you can take me at my best you can take me at my Darren Hayes-est, gay angstiest: Hey Matt The water carried all my secrets Sifting through the muck I saw my dirty little grievances And the memories I killed All the shameful feelings spilled Lay bare on the asphalt Broken parts I thought I'd drowned real good Oops! I Did it Again it's a Cassian song, ok? Nikitoa last of the songs with a title matching a poem by Nezahualcoyotl, this one about the transience of all things :)) Móðir mín í kví kví what if we made this lullaby into a girl screamo track? Vibes, I say again. Feet of Clay more on the topic of not being able to make a move despite wanting to. Whispering Light the version with Willy Mason. Distance, mark of distance Your burden is your brilliance There's a vessel A hiddеn vessel in the stonе Difference, not indifference Your passion marks you different And you wrestle And how you'll wrestle to come to know The Gates of Istanbul more Loreena! Constantinople, but, well, I don't need to quote They Might Be Giants. Shim El Yasmine It might not be Istanbul but let's get some Arabic language angst about leaving your boyfriend behind in anyway. Last Polar Bear it's about the long overdue proliferation of contemporary queer folk singers actually. Also bears. From the north. Make you think of anyone? The Moon Shone on my Bed Last Night sneaking some more Sam Lee in for the 'muckle ballad' about being with your lad no matter what. Stál og hnífur this is what happens when you leave the pronouns out, Bubbi! Steel and knife is my symbol, the symbol of travelling workers. Yours was mine and mine was yours while I lived among men. Fire Light soothing. Good vibes. Hopefuly. Probably a happy ending, through I'm a long way from knowing how I'll achieve it yet. What is the medieval equivalent of a Death Star? Over Again haha is it all a flat circle? Or once free to be together to they just go out robbing and causing trouble again? :)

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 21

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Mission: Abominable begins!!

Author’s Note: I keep getting frustrated at myself for writing Y/N to be so thirsty, but I’m also just writing her how I assume my character is in the game, given how harem-like Stardew kinda accidentally can be. So like.. yeah. ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧ She’ll eventually figure out that she’s probably poly lol.

Hope you enjoy! x

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

Magnus was super understanding when I told him that I wanted to go home and rest for a bit. I promised I’d be back later in the day, but told me with a sympathetic smile to take all the time I need to recuperate from my incident with his potion, noting that the mental effects may be drastic even with the physical symptoms gone.

It’s not just the potion I need recuperation from, I’d thought to myself with high hopes that he wouldn’t hear.

Deciding to take him up on the offer to just go back some other time, I spent the rest of the day sulking. Played a few online games with Seb, but just moped around otherwise. Wondering if that was all just an allergic reaction, or if it was my body’s way of rejecting magic… like, what if I’ve got ~the sense~ for these things, but can’t actually partake in any of it? That would suck, dude.

And then there’s the issue of that… lovey feeling that formed in me during the whole debacle. 

That isn’t fun either.

We’re gonna ignore that part, though!

The new day has been lazy, but much needed, after all that farm work and stuff yesterday. I made some crepes for the first time as breakfast, researched good kotatsus for the upcoming colder seasons, and did a ton of much needed cleaning around the house. Got some playtime in with Cannoli too, once it got darker and cooler outside.

Now, the little man’s laying on my belly and purring as I stroke his soft fur. Soothing me from spiraling into any self-deprecating thoughts now that I’m not distracted by chores. Hopefully I can be a good farmer, if nothing else… but only time will tell. 

I take note of how much bigger this lil’ man has gotten. He was basically skin and bone when Marnie delivered him to me like the goddamn stork, and now, he’s perfectly chubby, with fur thicker than ever before. It’s becoming apparent that he might be a Siberian, rather than a short-haired something-or-other.

I pick him up so that I can sit with my back against the headboard, holding him out in front of me once I’m settled. He softly meows, probably wanting me to put him back down, but instead I hold him to my chest like a baby and nuzzle my face onto the top of his head. His immediate purring soothes my soul. I guess I’m a pretty good cat mom, too. 

I still have plenty of time — several hours, actually — to kill before I want to go to bed, but nothing feels appealing. I’ve played through all my games and don’t want to spend money on anything new quite yet. I don’t want to go back to Magnus just yet, because… obviously. I’m too lazy to make dinner, but don’t feel like ordering in either. And, it’s a Friday, so Seb and Sam have had band practice and whatnot with Abby all day. Don’t know if I wanna impede on their ritual hangouts.

It’s times like this where I really wish I had more confidence and more friends.

My phone vibrates, and in my desperation to not disturb Cannoli again, I try to grab at it without moving much. Unfortunately, I just wind up kicking it further away and onto the ground. Fuck. 

Great to know that even if Magnus’ potion works, my clumsiness decided to stick around.

I apologetically kiss the fuzzy little head beneath mine before putting him aside, standing up and retrieving the device. I have a text notification from a number I don’t recognize. 

Preparing for it to be spam, I unlock the screen, and am quite frankly baffled with my findings.

xxx-xxx-xxxx > heyyy. stole ur number from sebby’s phone

xxx-xxx-xxxx > it’s abby

Why is she texting me? Why was she going through his phone? 

I shrug it off and quickly add her to my contacts and sit at the edge of the bed before answering. 

< hey! what’s up

Abby > him and sam told me ur planning to check out that weird ass tower

Abby > i want in

Ohhh, Abigail. Just as fuckin’ peachy as ever. The stresses of the past two days aren’t allowing me to cope well with her intrusion... makin’ it real hard to want to be friends with her. 

I sigh, silently urging myself to smile through the pain. It’ll pay off! If we can be friends, everyone will benefit, right? 

Right?

< fine by me

< i’ll keep ya posted :)

Abby > no you won’t

Abby > we’re going tonight :) 

…What?

Abby > i’ll meet you outside ur place at 12

WHAT?

< do i get any say in this?

Abby > c ya laterrr ;)

“Oh , come the fuck ON, bro!” 

I hear Cannoli subtly activate beside me and put a comforting hand on his back, eyes still trained on Abby’s texts.

I peer up a few inches for the time. Just turned 8. That gives me 4 hours to contact Magnus somehow (I really need this dude’s fucking number, if he even has a phone), figure out some sort of plan that’ll benefit us both, and get back home… Ugh. I’m gonna have to go all the way there, aren’t I?

I’ve gotta leave, like, now.

I’m in the same outfit I wore out yesterday, but with one less bra and some cozy gray shorts instead of a skirt. Now isn’t the time for a bra. I toss my white sneakers over the black crew socks I’d been wearing, grab my keys, and make a dash for Magnus’ tower. I use my left forearm and hand to flatten my chest, keeping the ladies from flopping around, while my right arm pumps, phone and keys clutched in its hand.

The longer I run, the more I realize that I’m not tired. Like, at all. My lungs are fine, my heart rate seems as low as it usually rests, and I’m not breaking a sweat despite the humid summer air clinging to my skin. I wonder if this is what Magnus meant when he said the potion would lower my fatigue, like, permanently.

I also have the jarring realization that these shorts are short and they’re riding up my ass and coochie and Yoba I’m gonna look like a fucking mess showing up to his house like this. I shake my head and right wrist briefly to stop myself from getting too distracted. Gotta focus on keeping my pace. 

Once the tower is within viewing distance, I check my phone for the time. About 15 minutes have passed – Magnus and I will have a few hours to get something done. I pick up the pace, only now starting to feel any shortness in my breath or dampness on my forehead. As I near the bottom of the cliff his tower’s perched on, I call out the wizard’s name, hoping he’ll hear me or feel my presence or something.

Thankfully, it works like a charm – just a few seconds after his title escapes my mouth, his response echoes within me. 

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” He sounds worried – must’ve sensed my urgency. I sigh out in relief that he was able to answer so quickly. “Is everything alright?”

“Not really,” I explain, making my way up the steps. “Abby wants to come here tonight.” 

“Fuck,” he groans, with his low and rumbly voice. 

My breath hitches because o-oh my god that was the first time I’ve heard him say The Fuck Word and it sounded so—?!

I feel the hairs raise on my arms and my heart rate and temperature only now pick up.

No, (y/n)! Stop it! Bad dog! 

I stop proceeding forward once I make it to the top of the stairs, breathe deeply, and blink a few times, in a desperate attempt to keep my mind empty and unable to be perceived. 

Noticing how my hair threatens to stick to my neck and face, I tip my upper half down to pull my tresses up into a ponytail. God, my shorts were already riding up before, but the bent over motion I just did is shoving them further into my crack. Luckily, I’m able to get them into a more appropriate position by the time Magnus opens the door. 

He asks aloud, “When will she be arriving?” as I give myself a once-over to make sure I’m not terribly disheveled. 

“She wants to meet me at my house at midnight, and work from there.” 

As I roll my sleeves to my elbows, I look up to meet his eyes, blue with concern. He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, his other on his hip, as he scans my face, and then my body oh god oh fuck and then my face again.

“Well,” he looks down at his feet in thought for a moment, trailing off. He seems to be in thought, but I could swear I just saw a flash of pink or red in his irises before they turned maroon again… Huh. “I must disguise anywhere that will be accessible, as well as bar off the basement.” 

Magnus meets my orbs again, looking more confident this time around. “I can perform an enchantment to rearrange the appearance of my home, but it will require plenty of energy. It would be too risky to try the same spell downstairs, due to its inventory. Would you be willing to complete a small task while I work?”

I nod, “Yeah, of course.” I walk forward, so that I’m not, like, shouting at him from the top of the stairs anymore. 

He lets me inside as he explains the first priority for the night. Magnus leads me downstairs, and describes that he has a statue down here – he calls it the Shrine of Illusions – which he can use to change his appearance at the cost of a drop of blood and some money. He has to do this, being how much different he looks than your average villager around here; and we do want him to seem like some guy that just so happens to like living in seclusion, after all.

While he’s talking, I gaze around yearningly at the bookshelves surrounding either side of the hallway. It’s been so long since I’ve read anything other than, like, fanfiction. Noticing my wandering eyes, he promises to allow me back here in the future, claiming a lot of these will help with my potential apprenticeship.

The room he escorts me to has some more books and a lounging area to the left, and the Shrine to the right, with a smaller version of the spell circle he has upstairs in front of it. I assume he needs to stand there or some shit for the shrine to do its thing.

After a warning that it’ll take him a bit to finish his transformation, I get cozy with a book on the opposite end of the room. The one I picked out at random – The Wizard’s Compendium: Oaths of the Corrupted – is an allegedly true story about the people who used to live in a desert in Galdora, now called the Crimson Badlands. It became dangerous and barren over time, due to a rising presence of black magic amongst its inhabitants. 

I want to focus on the book so badly. I’m genuinely interested in learning, especially based on what the summary has to say about it… but once I glimpse up to check on Magnus, I find it hard to revert my attention.

As he works, his skin glows brightly, like those fancy berries he’s cultivating outside. He sits cross legged, floating above the also glowing ring painted on the floor, with his hands splayed out in front of him as some funky lil’ stars twirl around them. A slight breeze blows his hair out of his face, and his expression resembles that of someone who’s sleeping: eyes closed, mouth relaxed, only deep breaths escaping him. 

He’s so beautiful.

Fuck. 

No.

Stop ogling. 

Wincing at myself, I sink lower onto the scarlet cushion of the sofa, and attempt to delve back into the book. Just when I’m finally getting lost in its contents, Magnus approaches.

“Alright, how do I look?”

Taking note of what page I’m on for future reference, I shut the book and all but melt at the figure before me.

Magnus’ usual gray skin is now a rich, dark amber. His hair is black with some gray speckled throughout, and his eyes are a deep and piercing shade of liquid gold, with some light wrinkles adorning the corners and bags. His ears are no longer pointed, but all else remains the same – he’s still crazy tall, still has the same features, and still has that stupid little beauty mark under his one eye. His clothes aren’t different either, but his earrings are gone.

Unfortunately, he looks stunning.  

I barely even notice how easily I fucking blurt that opinion out to him oh my fucking god, but when his eyes widen and a deep crimson paints his cheeks, I realize my mistake. My features mirror his in an instant.

“O-oh my god, I mean, um…” I stammer for a sec as I look down at the closed book in my lap, trying to figure out the best way to escape this situation. “I just…” There is no escape. “I didn’t mean to just…” I am trapped. “Fuck.” I am a dumbass. “Sorry…” I mumble in defeat, hiding my face in my hands.

I only look back up when I feel his hand comfortingly flatten against my scalp, prompting a squeak out of me. He’s smirking, and has a mischievous glint in his eye as he starts his response. That look isn’t something I see often... only from, like, Seb. 

My boyfriend…

Fuck me. 

“I appreciate the praise, (y/n).” His voice sounds more… silky than usual? Hello?! “Truly.” 

He removes the hand from my head and gestures for me to give him my own, so he can help me from my seat. I quietly and meekly thank him as I return the book back to its spot on the shelf. Then, Magnus explains our next steps:

I’m gonna be performing a low-level spell – one that he thinks I should be able to manage, despite my fucking atrocious experience with magic yesterday – in order to reinforce that nobody’ll be able to enter the basement until Abby’s gone. He doesn’t want me near him as he enchants the main areas, because one wrong move by me can throw everything off. He reminds me that we don’t want Abby to know magic is, like, an actuality yet. Any indication of what he does can turn this night into a whole thing. So, when I’m done enchanting the door, I’m to wait at the bottom of the stairs that lead down here until further notice.

I patiently linger by the top of the steps, admiring Magnus’ plants until he returns with a tome. He opens to the page I’ll need, and points to a specific section; he then mutters something barely legible, and a purple highlighter effect spreads across the lines I’m supposed to read. 

“Remember, (y/n),” he sternly orders with a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t read anything else in this book out loud, even as a whisper.” I nod, and he reinforces the point, his unfamiliarly dazzling eyes boring into mine. “The effects of any other spell in this book summoned by an untrained mage could legitimately become catastrophic.”

“Got it,” I confirm with another nod. I let out a shaky breath as I look away from his face. “No pressure.”

His hand still on my shoulder, he gives it a squeeze. “Hey,” he calls for my attention. “I am assigning this to you so that you can practice. It’s quite elementary, but being that you’ve never incanted a spell before, it is truly not an issue if you find yourself unable.” Magnus offers a reassuring smile, seemingly melting my worries away. “I believe you can do this. And if your efforts fail, it’s nothing that I can’t fix once I’m done with my own duties upstairs. Alright?” 

I nod again. Go off, bobblehead. I grin up at his kind features and thank him for the support, adding, “I’ll do my best.”

As Magnus climbs the stairs, he assures me he’ll need no more than 25 minutes, but reminds me that I absolutely cannot interrupt. 

When he’s gone, I sigh, and look down at the open book in my arms. I sit on the steps in front of the locked door, reading it over in my head a few times.

I fumble my words often when I’m nervy, but when it comes to reading things out loud, I’m a fucking disaster. I need to rehearse this a few times if I want to do it correctly… then again, I don’t know if I can do the spell, nor do I know how much mana I have if that’s even something I do have, so I’m unsure of how many chances I’ll get to get this right.

A few minutes pass before I hear things moving around upstairs. I’m assuming that means Magnus is already deep in his work.

Now’s probably a good time to try this.

I stand up, taking a few deep breaths and hopping in place a little to shake out my worries. I then reach out in front of me until my palm is flat on the wooden door, look down at the grimoire, and begin. 

My incantation is slow, and I’m careful to enunciate the words on the page. A few syllables in, something begins to tickle the inside of my stomach – it’s hard to ignore, but I do my best to push it aside. Before I know it, that feeling spreads, and suddenly it’s like I can distinctly feel each and every vein pulsing in my body. With only a few words left, the hand on the door begins to shimmer similarly to how Magnus did downstairs during his makeover.

And then…

There’s no fancy sparks, or any visible force coating the door, or anything. All that fancy shit… just kinda stopped once my words faded. 

…Maaybe I just have to test it for myself?

I take a deep breath, wrap my fingers around the handle, and swing the door open with ease god fucking damnit.

I wish I knew what had gone wrong, but I’ve obviously got no idea, and it’s not like I have Magnus here supervising or providing guidance. 

I guess I’ll just have to keep going.

[perlukafarinn]

(ao3)

The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again. 

Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less. 

Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.

Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago. 

Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to. 

The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should  long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.

“Should we get married?”

Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.

“What.”

Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”

Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”

“I suppose I am.”

“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”

“Will you marry me?”

Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas. 

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it. 

Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”

Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”

“Now?”

It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!

They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.

Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.

The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.

The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.

He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.

This doesn’t change anything.

Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.

This really doesn’t change anything.

Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.

They’re married. 

*

When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.

Dean has a better idea.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”

They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place. 

Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”

“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”

“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.

The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.

Damn psychics.

Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.

And yet, nothing.

Dean tries not to feel too smug.

They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.

It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:

“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”

And all hell breaks loose.

Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.

“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.

“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly. 

Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account). 

Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone. 

It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips. 

“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.

“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”

“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely. 

“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up. 

The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.

“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters. 

Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

[highqueenofelfhame]

An: I’ll add tags later, i just wanted to get this posted because I’m like pretty happy with it, it’s alright. So i hope you guys enjoy! I’ll also attach links and stuff later, I’m posting this from my iPad and i just am too lazy for the tagging process. Me wants to sleep. This is part of the Disney au! Shoutout to @tangledraysofsunshine and @punkassbookjockey26 for the help on this one! This is mostly fluff (i know, how wild) but don’t worry i’m working on some angst for you soon. Fafs update soon too! I’ve already started on it and I’m going to keep working on it as the week goes. Thankfully it’s an easy chapter for me to write bc i have plenty of OG stuff to pull from. Okay, anyway! Enjoy!!

With every second that ticked by, it was getting harder and harder not to rummage through his belongings like she lived there. Even worse was that Rowan was sneaking glances at her with a smirk on his lips like he knew she wanted to. It made her scowl, a frown line appearing between her eyebrows as she glared into his back.

“I’m making you dinner, and you’re still finding a reason to be unhappy with me?” He asked her, putting down the spatula and turning to lean against his counter. The man looked criminally good in an ivory cable-knit sweater and dark jeans, an outfit combination that Aelin had never seen him in before. Thinking back on it, she was positive that when he wasn’t in a costume at work, she had only ever seen him in jeans and a t-shirt. There was also the single flannel he’d worn on Halloween, but all of that was simply incomparable to how he looked now.

“You said dinner would be ready ages ago.”

“I said it would be ready in half an hour when you got here, which was twenty minutes ago. I still have ten minutes before you get to hound me about lying.”

“Maybe if you’d prepared an appetizer…” she teased, hoping with every cell in her body that he knew she was kidding. When Rowan had said he wanted to cook her dinner, she’d been floored. The only meal that she could successfully make was breakfast, and the options were limited. Additionally, she couldn’t remember the last time a romantic interest had cooked for her at all. Probably Sam several years earlier, and it had been so bad they’d relented and settled on drive-thru burgers instead.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed at her, and she knew she’d missed the mark with her joke. The date had been going well so far; not much could have been ruined. He’d kissed her hello once, or four times, then told her to make herself at home. Rowan even had a beautiful arrangement of kingsflame at the table in the dining area. Their banter had ensued as it always did, casual teasing comments. Until she went too far. Obviously.

He turned his back, and Aelin tensed, moving across the kitchen to get to him. Just before she touched him, he turned back around, eyes widening almost comically when his elbow nearly hit her temple. Without her boots, her footsteps had been near-silent on his hardwood floors.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, fingers brushing her temple where his sweater had grazed her face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” With their dinner sizzling in the background, she was sure that he could hardly hear the soft whisper of her voice. That didn’t seem to matter because Rowan leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, short and sweet and leaving her wanting more. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Rowan’s brows knit together, green eyes tracing over every feature of her face before settling to meet her gaze.

“Being… me? Teasing? I don’t know. This is a date, and you’re so nice to be making dinner, and I shouldn’t be--”

“Aelin,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t busting my balls for something. I don’t think we would be us.” At the mention of them as an item, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth to ward off the embarrassingly large grin that was threatening to take over her face.

“That doesn’t mean I can be rude,” she grumbled, earning another smile from the man in front of her.

“You aren’t.” Rowan turned away from her for a brief moment. When he faced her again he held half of a cookie in his hand. “You just get hangry.”

She stared at the small offering in his hand before accepting it with a smile. Not only was he making her dinner, but it seemed he had also baked her double chocolate chip cookies. It made her heart squeeze in an almost painful way, but she took the cookie and nibbled on the corner. Whatever recipe he had used was perfect. It only made the rumbling in her belly worse, but she was determined to finish it without chocolate smeared all over her mouth.

“I’m almost done with dinner. Go snoop. I know you’re dying to.” Aelin wrinkled her nose, and Rowan was quick to kiss the tip of it, despite her failed attempt to swerve. Not that she wanted him to miss, really. Aelin wanted to beg him to kiss her until she was physically sick and couldn’t stand to feel his mouth on her body ever again.

The apartment was simple. It had one bedroom and an open living and kitchen area. Rowan had a small table that could seat four between the two rooms. It was sparsely decorated but had a few personal touches here and there that provided a glimpse into Rowan’s life. She walked around the living room, noting the pile of books stacked neatly next to the TV contained some of her favorites. She hadn’t pegged Rowan as an avid reader, but she realized that despite working with the man for the past two years, there was still so much she didn’t know about him.

And she realized, more than anything, that she wanted to know everything.

Furthermore, she’d been right about the books stacked on the coffee table. They were travel books, some of them with tabs and post-it notes sticking out of the sides. With a sly glance to the kitchen, she perched on the edge of the couch and pulled the biggest of them with the most annotations toward her, flipping through the pages to see what all he had bookmarked.

One of the first pages was a map marking all the parks and their major attractions. It seemed Rowan had a key for himself, little stars, triangles and squares marking various locations.

“The stars are my favorite places I’ve been,” Rowan said, pulling her gaze from pages of mountains and canyons and over to his green eyes.

“Is this what you do when you aren’t working?” Aelin closed the books and restacked them neatly on the table. Rowan was carrying two plates of stir-fry over to the table. In a few steps she joined him, sliding into the seat beside his.

“When I can, yes.” She was so hungry that she merely nodded, taking a too-large bite of food and meaning at the taste. Rowan’s eyebrow quirked while he took a bite of his own, and to avoid speaking with a mouthful she gave him a thumbs up.

“So good,” she reiterated after she swallowed, clearing her throat.

“I’m glad you like it. I was worried you wouldn’t.”

“It’s food. I like food. And you baked cookies,” Aelin reminded him, popping another bite in her mouth. The tickle she seemed to be developing in her throat worsened, forcing her to clear her throat again after she swallowed. Actually, the tickle was becoming an insatiable itch that she tried to chase away with water. She had no luck. “Is your um— is your throat itchy?”

“No…?” Aelin tugged on the collar of her shirt, nodding her head instead of responding. Rowan leaned over to brush his fingers along her cheek, worry settling in the wrinkle between his eyebrows. “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Gods, my mouth is itchy,” she mumbled, mostly to herself, while she downed the rest of her water so quickly a drop slipped down the side of her chin.

“Aelin. What are you allergic to?”

“I’m not allergic to anything,” she insisted, despite the way her tongue felt undeniably too big for her mouth. Rowan had already left the table, though, disappearing through a door off the living room and coming back with a small white bottle. His phone was also now in his hand and the numbers his thumb was pressing looked a lot like 9-1-1 from her vantage point.

“Take these,” he said softly, holding two pills to her lips that she opened her mouth for and downed with Rowan’s full glass of water.

“That’s dramatic.” She nodded at his phone. “I can breathe fine. My mouth is just itchy. And my tongue is a little too big.” To prove a point, she stuck her tongue out. Rowan’s eyes were saucers and he was ready to hit the call button.

“Your tongue is twice the size it usually is!”

“Did you do this on purpose? Is this getting me back for the syrup?” Aelin was kidding. Half-kidding, maybe, but kidding all the same. When she spoke, drool dribbled down her chin that she wiped at with the collar of her shirt. The whimper that sounded in the back of her throat wasn’t voluntary. It was their first date and she managed to drool on herself in front of him. Aelin Galathynius was the epitome of cool.

“This is not getting you back for the syrup.” Rowan’s voice was sharp, if still soft around the edges while he watched her carefully. His thumb was still dancing over the call button, but Aelin refused to be carted out of his apartment on a stretcher. She took his phone, locked it, and held it hostage in her lap while he fussed and mumbled about how big her tongue was. “What are you allergic to?”

“I didn’t know I was allergic to anything,” she swore again, grabbing his water for another long drink.

It went on like this for several minutes: Rowan listing the ingredients for the stir-fry that she may not have had before, or maybe she’d not had it in such a long time she forgot she had a mild allergy to it. MSG, soy, celery, sesame, carrots, on and on. He ran through everything twice before Aelin asked him to please stop, she had no idea and listing them over and over wasn’t going to spark a memory or knowledge she didn’t have.

The signature frown he wore most of the time was all the more prominent the droopier her eyes got; the effects of Benadryl were hitting her harder than she cared to admit, but her throat wasn’t as itchy and her tongue was feeling closer to normal. Rowan held both of her hands and guided her to his bedroom. Aelin wanted to make a joke about how this wasn’t what she’d had in mind, but she was too sleepy to find the words.

Rowan undressed her, pulling her jeans off before guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed. The duvet was softer, fluffier than she’d anticipated him to sleep on, and she wanted to burrow down into it as he replaced her shirt with one of his own. When he pulled back the blanket, she crawled under and didn’t settle until he laid down with her. His sweater was soft beneath her cheek and she felt like she was cuddling with him on a cloud. Gods, his bed was so comfortable she wanted to sleep in it forever.

“I’m sorry for ruining our date,” she mumbled, tilting her head back to look at him beneath heavy lashes and heavier lids.

“I’m sorry for accidentally almost killing you.” Despite the way his lips were turned down, there was amusement hidden in his words. Aelin smiled and tilted her head back enough for him to take the hint: she wanted to be kissed. A half smile spread across his lips and he kissed her gently, fingers brushing loose strands of her hair behind her ear.

“This isn’t how I imagined our date ending,” she grumbled, ducking her face down into his sweater. Rowan chuckled and Aelin knew that it wasn’t what he had in mind, either. “I thought I would end up in your bed but not to sleep. I mean, maybe after you fucked me senseless, but I didn’t think we would be skipping that part altogether.”

“I didn’t think I would make something that had flare up an obscure allergy you didn’t know you had, either. So I guess we’re both surprised.” Aelin snorted, sitting up enough to tug on the side of his sweater. Rowan took the hint, sitting up to pull the sweater and his shirt over his head. While in the process of undressing, he stood and pulled his jeans off, too, tossing them over the back of a desk chair in the corner of the room. Aelin swallowed, eyes dipping over the expanse of golden skin he’d exposed.

Her eyes caught on a scar on his lower abdomen, zeroed-in on the trail of hair that disappeared into his briefs. It dawned on her then that she hadn’t seen him completely naked. At work, they saw each other in various stages of undress while changing costumes, but the only time they’d had sex had been a quickie in Lorcan’s bathroom. They’d both been mostly clothed for that. She was making it a goal to see him entirely naked in the next twenty-four hours, because he looked so good like this it was unfair.

“Maybe I’ll feel better when I wake up,” she said, breathlessly. Rowan grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek that she didn’t see often enough.

“I’m counting on it.”

[myrwritesfootie]

Like The Old Days - Chapter Two - Mason Mount

Who: Mason Mount x Original Female Character Words: 1629 Disclaimer: I do not know Mason Mount or anyone else mentioned in these writings. Note: So the first chapter was just mainly an introduction, this chapter is nearly double of the previous chapter and I hope you all like it.

July 31st, 2017. Arnhem, Netherlands

The weather was quite chilly for a day in the middle of the summer. Not that it was a strange occurance in the Netherlands. It was one of the things I disliked the most about living in this country. I am someone who preferred the sun and the warmth. Unfortunately that was not going to happen anytime soon.

Despite the dreary weather, I knew that I would have to enjoy the summer as much as possible before it was over and before I would start on my last year of education. Just one more year and then it was time to find work. Something I just didn’t want to think about just yet. I actually liked my school years until now.

The voice of my friend next to me pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Iris? This is like the third time you blanked on me, what’s going on in that head of yours?” Marie asked and I quickly blinked, a guilty expression on my face. “I’m sorry Mar. What were you saying again?”

The blonde sighed - clearly exaggarating, the smile on her lips giving that away as well as she looked at me  over the edge of her sunglasses, bright blue eyes looking into my own hazel ones. “I was asking if you were up for going out for a drink this afternoon, after I finished work. It shouldn’t be a long day and they say that the weather will only get better by the end of the day. Pretty please?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was an ever returning question from Marie whenever the weather was nice in the city. “Fine, we are going out for a drink, but we are going to bring our own drinks and we are going to the park,” I encountered. Marie squinted her eyes for a moment, but then nodded. “Deal. I’ll ask Frances, Yvette and Sanne as well to see if they want to come.”

Even now I could already tell that the park was going to be packed. The park in the middle of the city was one of the most beautiful places in Arnhem, at least in my opinion. Whenever the sun was shining, it was busy. The slight slope in the grass made it a perfect place for sunbathing but also to have some barbecues in the summer. It was as if a big part of the city made its way into the park and my friends and I were definitely no exception.

The morning at our secondary school was one that finished pretty quickly. Marie and I were busy with our second year, with two more years to follow after this. After that university would probably follow if we were to choose for that, but so far I have not been interested in that. It meant more years at school while I knew what I wanted the most; I wanted to do something physical. I wanted to mean something for people, I wanted to travel. I did not want to get back in the school benches once more when I was done with this level of education.

So while Marie left to get to her job, I went back home. A home where a young brother had been bouncing around the house for some time now because our local football team Vitesse had been having a good pre-season so far and new names had been signed. With the Johan Cruijff Shield coming up at the start of the season, the football vibe was big in our house, with my brother bouncing off the walls. I liked football too but I had to admit that I didn’t like our own competition much. That’s what you get when you get hooked on the Premier League. The pace and level of that league was so much higher than our Eredivisie so who can really blame me, right? So where Sam - my younger brother - had a yellow and black obsession, I had a red one. A Liverpool shaped one.

The moment I walked into the house, it was clear that my mum was pissed off. “Sam de Jong, how many times do I have to tell you that you don’t get to kick that ball around inside.” The sight of shattered pieces on the floor that had previously been a longdrink glass came into my view as I walked into the living room.

“I’m sorry mum! I was trying to score the winning goal.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the words of my ten year old brother. As soon as I saw the look on my mother’s face, I bit my lower lip to stop myself from laughing.

“I just came by to let you know I’ll be at the park for the afternoon and also probably for dinner,” I quickly said, before leaving the room again so I could get upstairs, not wanting to witness the disaster that Sam was about to face.

It was only a short visit at home. While I freshened up after school - and listened to my mother yell at Sam while making him clean up the mess that he had made, I quickly looked through some messages on my phone where the other girls already showed that they had bought drinks and food already for the park.

Once I got the message from Marie that she was on her way to the park, I left the house as well. The park was only a short walk from my house but because I was known as the lazy one of my friends (and it was probably true as well), I picked the bike as my form of transport to the sunny greenery in the centre of the city. It didn't take long for me to find my friends, who had perched themselves on a large blanket in the grass. Many people had thought the same thing as we did. Other little groups had formed on the grass, some guys were kicking a football around while yelling at each other. In English. Which wasn't that rare here in Arnhem.

As I reached my friends, I just heard the last bit of a sentence Francis had said. "- is pretty cute." I rolled my eyes at the words, Francis was probably one of the biggest guy crazy people I had met but I loved her for it. I followed her gaze and found the footballing guys on the end of it. Oh, and Francis had a preference for athletes.

"Of course you have found the cutest guy in the entire park already," Marie said as she waved at me, holding out a glass with some fizzy drink in it. I looked over my shoulder and had to agree with Francis, however. The brown haired young man standing closest to us was not bad on the eyes. They were probably around the same age as us.

It was always good to spend free afternoons in the sun with my friends. For a moment there was not a worry in the world - although my mother would counter that at my age I did not have any worries. Laughing seemed to be the best remedy against long boring school days. I tried my best to zoom back into the story that Marie was telling. "So my brothers were in the backyard, mum kept yelling at them to grey inside for dinner, that they had to stop fooling around. They didn't listen at all, continued playing rugby and next moment, the ball went through the window. Mum was livid." I shook my head, a laugh escaping me as I thought back at the scene between my own brother and mother. 

"Your brothers aren't the only ones good at breaking glass. Sam wanted to score the winning goal for the Johan Cruijff Shield and thought it was a good idea to do that inside. I walked in on -"

Before I could finish my sentence, this time I was interrupted by a sudden football hitting in the middle of our picnic cloth and knocking glasses over, the ball ending in my lap. I was too surprised to jump up like some of the other girls were doing. 

"I'm so sorry ladies, my friend over there did a terrible job controlling the ball." A male voice spoke up in a British accent. It had to be one of the guys who had been kicking the ball around just a few meters away from us. A look up confirmed that it was the cute brown haired one who had come over to collect the ball in my lap. From up close he was even closer. Dark eyes matched his hair and a smile was on his lips, a shy one at that. He was our age, maybe just a bit older but when he smiled he had crinkles next to his eyes. It was Marie who found her voice back as the first one, of course she was. 

"You can definitely say that. He should learn how to play football." The guy standing with us left out a chuckle, even though I did not understand why it was so funny what Marie had said. 

"I'll let my friend Mitchell know." His gaze moved in my direction, since I had the ball. "I really am sorry…" he trailed off, not knowing which name to add to the end of the sentence. A very smooth way to ask for my name although I didn't even realise it. I scrambled onto my feet finally with the ball in my hands. "It's Iris. Here's your ball back." I held out the ball to him, his fingertips brushing mine for just a second as he took it from me. 

"Thank you Iris. I'm Mason."

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (Part 5)

Title: a Home for the Lost (why were they cast aside?)

Summary: None of it went to plan.

Ranboo never planned on facing it, Tommy never planned on leaving, Fundy didn't plan on losing the one place where he belonged. Sam didn't plan on opening his house to a bunch of traumatized hybrids that would worm their way into his heart.

And yet, here they were. Here they were, together. Maybe that was the best part of it all. Part 1 Part 6 Masterlist

_____

Ranboo started learning about everything that he’d missed, like how Tommy’s wings came to be and what people had been up to. Other things, he just noticed. He was very perceptive, and it only served to isolate him from everyone more. He could tell things that other people would rather not face, like how Tommy pretended that everything was fine with Phil and Techno and himself. How he pretended that they were a family, and as they relaxed together, how he would show his vulnerability. Ranboo would’ve bought the act that Tommy believed in wholeheartedly, if not for one thing.

Tommy never let them preen his wings.

So yeah, they could all pretend in their little dollhouse that everything was fine and that their relations were fixed, but it would never be perfect. They could believe it all they wanted, but subconsciously, they knew it’d never go back to the way it was before. Maybe that’s why they so desperately put on a show.

Ranboo noticed these things. All the time, to be honest.

He also noticed that slowly, after he had returned and told Tommy why he’d left, that Tommy drifted slightly from his old family. It wasn’t a bad thing, if a little sad, because he’d found another that believed in him and wanted the best for him instead of trying to make up for using him. 

On a different note in the same tune, Sam and Puffy were angels sent from heaven. Nothing could convince Ranboo otherwise. The way they had gently pushed Tommy in the right direction, understanding how messed up he’d been and knowing that harshness wasn’t the way to fix it. Maybe that’s why when they saw Ranboo accompanying Tommy on one of his visits, they recognized his unrest.

Ranboo knew they had a past, those three. He didn’t think Tommy realized it, but they’d adopted him. They’d decided that Phil wasn’t fit to be a father to anyone but Technoblade long ago, and he was amazed at the subtle way they’d taught him to be better. Maybe they were the reason, then, that he’d matured so much. Maybe they could be his family, too.

And they were.

Phil and Techno still received visits from Tommy every now and then, and Tubbo was over most of the time because at the end of the day they were still best friends, but in their own time they realized that maybe it was best to let bygones be bygones. They’d always be close, they’d always love each other, but maybe this time, the damage was done. In this case, it was okay. It was never mentioned, it was never brought up, but it was acknowledged by everyone. He couldn’t really cut them out, not that he wanted to, but he couldn’t have even if he did, not with the constant reminder on his back that he would always be Phil’s son.

Instead, Tommy spent most of his days at Sam’s base, and Ranboo spent most of his time with Tommy, so they ended up just hanging out with Sam and Puffy more than they intended. Maybe it was all part of the plan for the two older adults.

In any case, Ranboo grew closer and more comfortable with the other three, until soon, he wasn’t quiet and reserved anymore. He wasn’t scared of his own shadow, flinching at every footstep. He was Ranboo again, and he owed it to his family. Maybe, now that he’d healed, he’d be able to face the family he’d lost.

_______________

The summer afternoon found Tommy and Ranboo under a tree, half asleep and lazy, one writing and the other talking. It was hot, and muggy, but Sam had said that he needed to do some renovations and Puffy was away. Ranboo knew she was spending time with Niki, but he had yet to go with her to see his sister.

Did that technically make Ranboo Puffy’s sister-in-law? Or was Niki now his step-mother?

He didn’t want to think on it too much. It’d just make his head hurt.

Ranboo didn’t even completely know what Tommy was rambling about, but he smiled and nodded and he did truly enjoy it. Or, he enjoyed Tommy’s company. Was there a difference?

He zoned in when Tommy nudged his shoulder. “Hey, big man, you awake?”

Rolling his eyes, Ranboo responded. “I am now. What’s up?”

“Something I just remembered, Ranboo- I, now here’s a biggie-” Tommy paused for suspense. “I know how to fly a plane, but-”

“Hold on, you can fly a plane?” 

“Yeah,” Tommy shrugged. “I didn’t appear here, a 16 year old. I had other experiences. Anyway, I know how to fly a plane but I don’t know how to ride a bike.”

“A bike?”

Tommy mistook Ranboo’s confusion for mockery. “Yeah, big man. Phil never taught me. Who taught you, if you’re such a pro?”

“Tommy, I barely even know what a bike is.” Ranboo deadpanned.

So, now, the two young men, for that’s what they were at this point, stood outside of the base that they had been told to stay out of all day. Specifically, they were to stay out of it unless it was an emergency. Was this an emergency? See, that’s where it gets complicated.

“What kind of man my age doesn’t know how to ride a bike?” Tommy argued, “We need to learn and clearly, we haven’t got one. I think that Sam might. He strikes me as a bicycle kind of guy.”

“Neither of us are dying, though!” Ranboo protested. “He’ll probably get mad if we interrupt him, too. What’s he even doing?” 

Tommy groaned. “He’s just, I don’t know, building n’ shit. It’ll take two seconds, Ranboo, come on-”

The large door opened, and though neither of them were short, they felt incredibly small. And nervous.

“Can I help you?” Sam asked, looking at his two- his uh, his two mentees. Yeah, that’s it. Mentees. That’s the word he’s looking for. Definitely not something else. At all.

The two- well, now, they looked like boys, - stared at him, anxiously, suddenly at a loss for words. 

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m done with building, it didn’t take as long as I thought it would. What do you guys need?”

“We don’t know how to ride a-”

Tommy interrupted, “What Ranboo’s trying to say is, neither of us had spectacular father figures in our early life, and we don’t- well, really, we were wondering if you happened to have a bicycle anywhere here? I’m sure we can figure it out on our own, but we don’t have any bikes, is the issue-”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure I’ve got a bike around here somewhere, come help me look.”

So, Sam turned and left, leaving Ranboo and Tommy to trail after him. Not like little ducklings. Not at all. More like, uh… more like… something else. Not ducklings.

After rummaging around a bit, they found one, and after a little more searching, they found another. None of them were sure why Sam, who lived alone, had two bikes (could he even ride them? He pleads the fifth. Why? You’ll find out later.), but they weren’t going to complain. Now, Ranboo and Tommy had thought that Sam would hand them the bikes and let them be off, but, to their surprise, he didn’t. He took the handles of one and walked with it over to a path.

“Hey Sam, why are you going over there?” Tommy yelled, still standing by the main entrance.

“Well, you aren’t going to bike on the grass, are you?”

Wordlessly, Ranboo and Tommy jogged to catch up. Sam stood on the pavement, holding one bike, as Ranboo walked up with the other. He handed his to Tommy, and clapped, bringing the attention back to him. 

“Alright! So, get on the bikes.” Both of the younger men knew what he was doing. They didn’t say anything, though, and obeyed. “So, when you bike, you have to stay balanced…”

They spent the afternoon learning how to ride bikes, and though it maybe wasn’t the most productive way to spend an afternoon, it was a fun and relaxing one that they all needed. It ended with Sam sitting in the grass next to the road while Tommy and Ranboo rode their bikes up and down it. They all chatted, and laughed, and they barely even heard Puffy return. At least, not until she spoke up.

“Hey guys, I’m back! And, I… I brought someone with me.”

Ranboo stopped his bike and turned to where the voice was coming from, stopping all movements abruptly. Sure, Puffy was standing there and he was happy to see her back, but right next to her, looking nervous, was Niki. Not his sister. She’d made sure of that. She was Niki, nothing more.

“Hi, Ranboo.” She said, not meeting his eyes. “It’s been a bit.”

When had Sam and Tommy left? “Yeah. Hi, Niki. What’re you doing here?” It came out harsher than he intended.

“I thought- well, I figured, now that we’ve both had a little more time to, to think about things, I thought that I could come and… apologize.”

It was a little quieter then. Niki was waiting for a response, and Ranboo was thinking of one. What did he want to do? As much as he wanted to forgive her, some of the things that she’d done couldn’t be glossed over.

“I… I forgive you.” Ranboo started, “But, Niki… Niki, you’ve got to understand, you hurt me. You hurt me a lot.”

Niki sighed. “I know. I know I did, Ranboo, but at the end of the day, aren’t you still my brother?”

His chest felt like it closed. Was he? “I’m not sure I am anymore, Niki. I don’t even know who you are.” He looked away from her crestfallen face. “But… I think I’d be willing to re-start.”

He looked back up, and Niki looked a little happier. A bittersweet cheerfulness. He held his arms open, and she ran over to give him a hug. Maybe they weren’t family anymore, but they could be. They just had to hope. This time, neither of them pulled away from the hug. They didn’t want to, but at some point, Puffy told them that it was going to get dark soon, so they needed to head inside.

Sam and Tommy were in the kitchen, making dinner, although only one of them was really working. 

Niki and Puffy stayed for dinner before heading home. It went great, and it was a very relaxed atmosphere. They chatted, made fun of Tommy when he was clumsy with his wings, and laughed every time someone made a joke. Ranboo was truly happy, and he hoped it lasted this time.

That night, when it was dark and the noises of the forest had all settled, Ranboo was thinking. “Hey, Sam, where’s the renovations you were working on this morning? I can’t tell a difference here-”

“Forget that, Ranboo,” Tommy said while yawning, wings hitting the hybrid gently. “We’ve gotta head out if we want to make it back to the cottage in time for a good night’s sleep.”

“Well, about that…” Sam said, laughing a little. “Follow me.” They did, and they followed him down a hallway to two doors, right next to each other.  “Left is for Ranboo, right is for Tommy. I mean, you don’t have to use them, and obviously you can decorate them how you want to, but…”

They each opened their doors, and they were met with little bedrooms. Not too little, but not too large, each with a bed in a corner, a chest, and some other bits of furniture. “Did you make bedrooms for us?” Ranboo asked, and once Sam nodded, he grinned. “That’s great! Could we stay the night? Please?”

“That’s kind of what they’re here for.” Sam said, and he melted inside at the happy grins that Ranboo and Tommy exchanged. “I’ll let you guys get comfy, uh, goodnight?”

“Goodnight!” The other two cheered, nearly crushing Sam in a hug before going to their rooms.

By all means, it should’ve been a peaceful night, but when there’s a traumatized hybrid involved, you never know what to expect. That night, Ranboo’s dreams were plagued with nightmares, all violent and scary and loud- he didn’t know exactly what was happening, but he knew that he was there with Fundy, on the ground and bleeding. He could feel the tears rolling down his face, this time they burned again, with new vigor, and he was forced to look the fox in the eyes as they dimmed. He didn’t know why he started crying harder, but soon he turned to see who had killed his friend, and there stood Dream, hair long from his time in prison.

“It was only a matter of time until I escaped, Ranboo.” Dream taunted. “Ranboo!”

He was scared. Was he going to die?

“Ranboo, wake up!”

And, just like that, he sat up in bed, breathing heavily. Tommy was near, but that didn’t make sense, they didn’t share a room. What was Tommy doing here? Ranboo could feel wings circling around his body, comforting and warm, as he tried to calm down.

“You alright, Ranboo?”

He managed to nod, but it probably wasn’t convincing. He still couldn’t speak. Why couldn’t Dream just leave him alone?

“Am I okay to leave, or-”

“Can you stay?” His voice sounded small, even to him, and was hoarse from screaming in terror. Sam must’ve been a deep sleeper to not wake up.

“Sure thing, man.”

They went back to sleep, then, Ranboo curled in on himself with one of Tommy’s wings draped over him protectively. This time, they slept well, and when Sam went to wake them up the next morning, he did nothing but smile and walk away. He’d let them rest. They’d more than earned it.

When Ranboo’s eyes slipped open a few hours later, he let out a small sigh. He was warm, and he was happy, and he didn’t ever want to move. He was content to have stayed in bed for hours, but then he felt the blankets behind him shift. He let out a confused little warble that sounded remarkably like a cat getting its sleep interrupted.

“What was that?” Tommy groaned. “My ears aren’t started yet. Catch me in a few minutes.”

It was more than a few minutes before they got out of bed, hair wild and eyes still half-closed despite the sun that shone through the windows. Sam greeted them with a cheerful, “Hello,” to which they responded with a vague grunt. They were very articulate in the morning, it appeared. By all means, it should’ve been a dream. It should have been the best thing to happen to him in a while, and it was. But, Ranboo couldn’t shake the underlying feeling of dread that plagued his mind. 

“Ah, what do you want to do today, Ranboo?” Tommy asked loudly, sprawled out across the couch and head lolling back. 

Ranboo thought for a moment, the pit in his stomach growing. “I think that maybe we should go on a trip today, to… to uh, to visit Fundy.”

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his head. “Fundy? As in, my nephew, Fundy?”

Nodding, Ranboo fidgeted with his hands. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

“‘Course it is, big man. You want to go now?”

Ranboo got up swiftly. “If that’s okay. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

They bid Sam goodbye, and went off towards Fundy’s house. It took them a while, because they had to ask Niki for the coords, but they found it eventually. Fundy lived in a village that had gone unnoticed, a peaceful haven that usually would’ve been somewhere for weary travelers to rest. Now, however, the air was thick with dust and there was no one to be seen. The first houses that Tommy and Ranboo found were nothing but ruin, the ashes still smoldering. It was only after a shrill horn could be heard that they realized what was happening.

There was a raid.

They broke into a run, swords pulled out. They yelled for Fundy, and the only response they got was the sound of the Illagers that they ran towards. 

Fighting seemed to go on forever as Ranboo and Tommy slashed at the enemy, backs to each other, until finally they got a chance to breathe. There weren’t as many, though still a lot. Ranboo tried to listen harder, trying to detect even a hint of life in one of the houses. When he heard a soft whimper, he grabbed Tommy’s hand and pulled him to it.

When they saw two Illagers standing over Fundy with their crossbows out, they didn’t hesitate to throw themselves forward. They looked up over the bodies, then, and their eyes softened when they saw how Fundy curled up into himself. He was so small, and he still had his eyes tightly shut.

Tommy got up and wiped his bloody hands on his pants before going over to Fundy. “Hey, Fundy. Is it alright if I touch you?” Tommy didn’t even really have to ask, because the minute Fundy saw the blond, he latched onto his arm. Ranboo hadn’t ever seen Tommy look so awkward, slowly putting his arms around the fox that really wasn’t all that younger than he was. 

They’d all had their childhoods stolen from them, it seemed. 

Fundy was inconsolable, and Tommy motioned for Ranboo to help. They seemed to have the same idea, when Ranboo gathered the fox into his arms and they walked outside to see the still-smoking ruins of all the houses. 

When Fundy stopped crying for a moment, and opened his eyes, he did nothing but utter a small, “Ranboo?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Ranboo said, and was surprised when Fundy closed his eyes again to burrow further into his hold. 

Sam had to do a double-take when the boys got home. “Is that Fundy?” He asked, getting up quickly.

Tommy and Ranboo paused, like children who had been caught sneaking a pet indoors. Only, they were tall young men with a traumatized fox hybrid in their arms. Who, Sam soon learned, was now homeless.

“Please, can he stay with us Sam, please?” Tommy had pleaded, Ranboo standing near, still holding Fundy. “He’s got nowhere else to go, Sam, please?”

And, well, Sam took one look at his little brothers and had to concede. “Of course he can stay,” Sam said, already coming up for a plan for Fundy’s room.

Later that night, once Fundy had been told he was fine to stay and was sharing a room with Tommy (all three of the boys, for that’s how Sam fondly thought of them, ended up crammed into one bed by the morning, though, and neither of them knew which one of them had the nightmare. Maybe it was all three.), Sam let out a soft chuckle. 

He really was collecting a menagerie of fucked-up kids, wasn’t he? Only, they weren’t really kids anymore.

Well, he was growing his little family, and if no one else was going to let these kiddos heal, he would. They deserved the chances that war and adulthood had stolen from them. They deserved the love that he was set on giving them.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Sam Winchester: Disney

*Credit to gif owner*

Pairing: Sam W. x Reader

Pov: Sams

Warnings: fluffy!Sam, The reader having an addiction to Disney movies, movie night, Sam quoting Disney movies, ( I think it's like one word) swearing, quick interaction with Dean.

Summary: Movie night rolls around and this time it's just Sam and Y/n. Letting Y/n choose pretty much just turns into them watching Disney movies. And maybe Sam knows a few quotes from each movie.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is for band--pyschos 1.5 followers Bingo Challenge. I'm so excited o be a part of this writing challenge.

Square- Movie Quote

Masterlist

Sams Masterlist

Taglist: @band--psycho @sweetdetectivequeen

If you keep sliding on the floor with those damn socks on, you're going to land on your ass, Y/n" I finally said after watching her pass by the library at least ten times within five minutes.

Y/n huffed and crossed her arms dramatically, but stopped. Standing there for a few moments, before once she thought that I wasn't paying attention she continued.

"Shit" I heard Y/n in a rather loud voice. So, I got up from my library seat, closing the lore book I was reading through. "Did you fall?" I asked as I rounded the corner.

Seeing Y/n sitting on her ass. She looked up at me, doing the thing I taught her. "No, No puppy eyes. I told you. I told you that you were going to fall on your ass." I said putting my hand out.

In moments like this, I noticed how much bigger my hand was compared to Y/n. She gripped my hand and I lifted her up from the floor. "Hey, you two, y'all okay?" Dean asked passing by the two of us in the hallway.

I knew he was going out; it was Saturday night and we were home at the bunker. "Yeah, we're fine. I was just sliding on the floor with my socks." Y/n said patting down her sweatshirt that used to be mine.

"That must have been the 'oh shit' I heard. We should totally do that, I'm heading out." Dean said. "Don't have too much fun," I said interlocking Y/n and I's fingers together.

Dean skipped up the bunker stairs and was gone within minutes.

"Babe, can we do something fun?" Y/n asked dragging me into the kitchen. I let her drag me into the kitchen before answering her question.

"I guess so since you've dragged me into the kitchen," I said, not letting go of Y/ns soft and small hands clasped around mine. "Well since we are in the kitchen, can we get some snacks together?" She asked.

Y/n had the tendency to always ask before doing anything around the bunker. It sometimes made me feel as if she was my student in school, and I was her jailer of a teacher.

"Y/n, honey you don't have to ask me every time you want to do something. This is your home, your home to do as you please, get snacks as you please. You aren't a student here and I am most defiantly not your teacher." I said, wrapping Y/n in a hug from behind.

"I know, but still I don't like the idea of just doing without asking," Y/n said leaning her head back up against my shoulder. We stood like this for a while, in the presence of each other was nice, it was always nice to just be together.

Nothing trying to get in the way, no Dean trying to tease me, no monster ruining dates, anniversary, or having to hunt monster worried about each other safety.

This was the most normal we could get. The most normal we would ever have. "So what are the snacks for?" I asked Y/n as she started to release herself from the embrace we had.

"I thought that maybe we could have a movie night since Dean is out," Y/n said rummaging through the cabinets and through the fridge. Her shorter stature giving her a problem as she tried to reach things on the higher shelves.

"Do you want some help? Also, what are you looking for?" I asked coming closer to hear what she had to say. "MMMH," She said, her face pensive and thoughtful about what she was going to say.

"I was trying to grab some popcorn for me, and some more healthy choices for you, but as you can see, I've failed miserably." Y/n said shrugging her shoulders.

Taking a moment to get an idea of the hand situation at hand. “You haven’t failed, and if I’m honest with you dear, I'm in the mood to snack on junk food and be lazy.” I spoke. Grabbing junk like food off of the shelves and from the fridge.

I’m rather glad that just a few days ago we needed to go shopping because Dean tends to pick up the junky food and tends to forget he has such an abundance at the bunker. Throwing a pint of ice cream on to the kitchen island, gently placing a twelve-ounce bottle of soda-pop, Y/n had already put out the over flow of candy that we had, so all that was left was really just making the popcorn.

“Movie night is going to be hella fun!” Y/n said dancing around the kitchen, as I looked for a clean useable big bowl for the popcorn. I think she noticed my struggle because she stopped dancing and come over to me. Taking the popcorn out of my hands.

“Just nuke the popcorn’ she said placing the popcorn bag into the microwave and pressing popcorn, ‘see now you can go look for your bowl” She said finishing her sentence and backing away to let me continue trying to look for a bowl.

Once that entire process was done, we migrated towards the Dean cave which had just turned into a living room slash movie room at this point. Not that either one of us would ever tell Dean that what it’s used for now.

We ended up having to make multiple trips back to the kitchen since we honestly did have a shit ton of food. But once we finally had all our food and snacks placed out in front of us, we sat down, well it was more like we sank down into the couch.

Dean was a rather lazy person and didn’t like to spend money which never made much sense to me seeing as we used fake credit cards, or the very bold answer which was credit fraud. We could have totally gone out and bought a brand-new couch, but instead Dean just saw this one and decided on the side of the road that he had to have it.

So, like I said we almost every time sink into the couch.

“Since it was your idea for a movie night, I’m giving you the honors of picking the first movie we watch!” I said handing her the remote that I had just fished form between the seat moments ago.

“Aww, you’re so sweet baby.” Y/n said kissing my cheek before she went on and searched through Netflix. After only a short time, I heard a frustrated groan come from Y/n. After being with Y/n for as long as I have, I’ve noticed different groans, and huffs have completely different meanings.

The groan thought meant that she was about to give up, frustration taking over her mind and her body. “Honey, is everything okay?” I asked deciding best to intervene before the remote ended up stuck in the TV screen. My girl has one hell of a throw.

“No nothing is fine!” She said huffing rather louder. “Give me the remote and tell me what you want to find.” I suggested. Plopping the remote into my lap Y/n crossed her arms and leaned in to the back of the couch.

“Baby you gotta tell me what I’m looking for, or should I already know?” I asked. I feel like I was poking a bear, or maybe a balloon just waiting her to explode. But she never did, I could hear her taking a deep breath in and then exhaling. “You know me enough to know that you let me choose, so Disney movies and I’m sorry for getting so upset so quickly.” Y/n said fidgeting with her finger nails.

“It’s okay love. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Now let’s see about watching some Disney movies.” I spoke.

I ended up having to go to Disney plus which held all of Disney's movies. “I’m figuring you want to watch their princess collection first, right?” I said, I received a hum in response.

Watching the movies in order for Y/n was the most important thing, so we started off with Snow white and the seven dwarfs. Watching through Y/n sang almost every song, and would sometimes nudge me to join in. I’d deny and she give me her doe eyes and I'd join regardless. Once the movie was over, I clicked around trying to find the next movie.

“Lips red as the rose, Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow.” I repeated as I looked around for the movie CInderella. I was interrupted before being able to click on the movie title. “Hey, that’s the phrase that the mirror says the queen. How do you remember that?” Y/n asked.

I honestly think she was totally surprised. “Because in a way it reminds me of you.” I said winking and clicked on the title of the movie. Cinderella played through, I had to pause a few times letting Y/n tell me when she was a young girl how much she wanted to be a princess but not just any princess she wanted to be Cinderella, and how her parents had bought her Cinderella dresses and she wear the plastic glass slippers and clink around her house.

Somethings you just always forget. Somethings like that are worth forgetting though, just so she can retell the same story and have the same cute and exciting look on her face. That was why I was okay with sitting down and watching Disney movies with her, because they made her so extremely happy and that’s all I needed to be happy.

We watched through that movies. “On the stoke of twelve, the spell will be broken, and everything will be as it was before.” I spoke. “Who said it though?” Y/n said questioning me. “Cinderellas fairy godmother!” I spoke.

I hadn’t realized how much this was now turning in to a game between Y/n and I. The next movie in our now marathon was sleepy beauty, so far, I had quoted every movie at the end.

So, this time Y/n was ready for it, “Now father, you’re living in the past, this is the 14th century.” I said a little laughed came out. “Oh, come on, there are so many better ones to choose from!” Y/n said dramatic.

“Yeah, like which ones? "I said, knowing Y/n knew a lot more about Disney movies then I did. “I’m awfully sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, Make it pink, Oh dear, what an awkward situation. And that to name a few.” Y/n said totally sassy me, but whatever. This was her guilty pleasure. There was no reason to tease her about it.

We watched through ariel, I only stopped the movie once since Y/n said she need a peep break and I most defiantly needed a good stretch. When she came back, I said “Don’t underestimate the importance of body language!” I said as I shimmied my hands down my sides and winked at her as Y/n sat down on to the couch.

“Haha, very funny. Come on now. Sit with me.” She said giving me grabby hands. I sat down and we continued our watch through, unfortunately we only made it another two movies seeing as Y/n had fallen asleep with her head in my lap and a blanket covering the rest of her body.

Beauty and the Beast was the second to last movie we watched before Y/n fell asleep, she had cuddled closer and reminded me that she sometimes thought of this movie when she saw us together. “Take it with you so you’ll always have a way to look back... and remember me”

She cuddled in closer as I quoted that and looked for the next movie. Yawning I asked Y/n “Do you want to stop? We can always pick up tomorrow.” I said She shook her head and said “Please continue.”

Looking for the next movie, I found that was a musical now about the movie, Aladdin was the next movie, this was an upbeat movie. I remember vaguely seeing this as a young boy, something that Dean had taken me to do, while he sat in the back making out with whatever girl he was with at that point.

“Y/n, I do love you, but I gotta stop pretending to be something I’m not.” I said kissing Y/n temple and shutting off the tv, and the lights before grabbing the underneath of Y/n knees and carrying her to bed.

Compelted on: 04/15/2021

[janeofcakes]

Soulmate: How John Met Sherlock...Again  Chapter 2

Hello, my friends! I come to you today knowing there is but one burning question in your minds today: What will Gracie and Olive get up to next? Okay, maybe two: When the hell will John and Sherlock meet, Jane? Tell me. Tell me now! Haha. Patience, my lovelies. You know I can't write a story without stringing you along for a while first. I am very firmly on the naughty list and like our dear friend, Martin Freeman I cannot abide being on anyone's nice list. Mwahaha.

I also wanted to say that the next few chapters are not as long as the first. There was so much to get through in that one. I hope you aren't disappointed. The good news is my typing and editing are going well so I should be able to keep my weekend schedule. Hooray!Happy reading. Jane

----

Gracie casts a side look at Olive from where she sits on the jungle gym. It is afternoon break and the two girls just climbed frantically up the poles and bars to sit at the top for a rest after running themselves ragged all over the playground pretending to be Nancy Drew and George Fayne solving a mystery. Every day since Monday has gone more or less the same way. They play together for morning break, talk at lunch and play again in the afternoon. They write notes on one another’s notebooks during lessons, but manage not to disrupt class or miss instruction. It has been a truly amazing first week of school, better than Gracie could have ever imagined.

Gracie looks at Olive again and feels her throat swell. It’s like she has known Olive forever. They seem to always understand each other and be in perfect sync. Gracie has talked about nothing else at home and has even dreamed about playing with Olive each night. Olive has told her all kinds of things about London and its history. Tower Bridge, London Bridge, the National Theatre, but what Gracie is most interested in seeing is the Tower of London. She asked her father just last night if they could go sometime to see the old castle and the crown jewels. She can’t wait to see and do everything, and it would be even better if Olive could come along for some of it. London is much more exciting than Bath ever was, hands down!

“Gracie,” Olive begins in a lazy tone, “how do you feel about bees?”

Turning to face her friend fully, Gracie furrows her brow and frowns. Olive does not react to the movement and continues looking at something in the distance, or perhaps at nothing at all. Gracie says nothing at first, wondering if Olive had been talking before and all Gracie heard was the bee question. The taller girl finally turns her head and fixes the blonde with an inquisitive gaze. Gracie frowns as she considers the question. She is not really partial to any insect, nor is she upset by them. 

“They’re all right, I guess,” Gracie shrugs. “They make honey, so there’s that.”

“Mm…” Olives hums in approval. “True.”

Gracie raises her brows, every inch of her face asking ‘What are you on about?’. Olive blinks and seems to realize she was lost in her own mind, leaving Gracie with absolutely no context for the question.

“That’s what my dad wants to do when he retires,” Olive explains. “Beekeeping. In Sussex, probably.”

Oh no. This can’t be happening. Gracie just met Olive and had the best week of her life and now she’s going to lose her to bees?!

“You’d leave London then?” Gracie chokes on the words, not even trying to hide her distress.

“Yeah,” Olive answers absently, playing with the end of her long braid. “He says they’re fascinating.”

Gracie’s whole body tenses and her stomach roils. She feels sick and a bit dizzy when she glances away from Olive to a girl laughing wildly on the swings. It’s like a bad dream spiraling out of control to the soundtrack of that girl’s mad laughter. Gracie bites her lip hard to ground herself and looks back at Olive.

“Is he close to retiring?” Gracie forces out, beads of sweat beginning to collect at her temples.

“What? No,” Olive huffs a laugh and looks at Gracie again. “He’s definitely old, but not ancient. He has too much fun working anyway. Hey, are you okay?”

“Fun?” Gracie asks incredulously, ignoring her friend’s inquiry. “At a crime scene?”

“Oh, yeah, he loves it,” Olive laughs, seeing Gracie begin to relax. “He loves a good mystery. Locked room murders are his favorite.”

“Wow,” Gracie mutters, only half understanding what that means.

“He used to have a partner, you know,” Olive adds with a grin. “He loved it even more then.”

“So he had his own Clue Crew?” excited energy vibrates through Gracie’s body as she pictures a grown up and male version of Olive with a man and woman posed behind him like on Charlie’s Angels. Gracie’s dad loves old shows and movies, so she has seen her fair share. James Bond is his favorite. She makes a note to ask Olive if she has ever seen any of them.

“Not a crew,” the brunette corrects. “Just the one partner. They solved all kinds of cases together. They were best friends.”

“Like us?”

“Yep, exactly like us,” Olive says with a flash of teeth. Gracie grins too and is about to ask about Bond when something else pops to the forefront of her mind.

“Oh! It’s like my dad’s bedtime stories!” Gracie blurts eagerly. “Sam Williams and Dean Jensen. They’re best friends and solve crimes together. That’s how I got started on Nancy Drew in the first place. Dad’s read some of the old ones to me.”

“Really?” Olive cries. “Oh! Oh! Mystery of the 99 Steps?”

“That’s my favorite!” Gracie shrieks, her hands flying to her cheeks.

“Mine too!” Olive gasps.

“Girls,” the teacher on duty calls up to them from the ground below. They look down at her, all wide eyes and smiles. “Time to go back inside.”

They climb down as the teacher walks away to tell other kids. The two girls bound towards the school, slowing to a walk as they get closer. Gracie feels something brush against her hand and glances at it just in time to see Olive’s longer fingers wrap around it. She shifts her wide eyes to her friend’s, barely able to contain her joy.

“We should get our dads to read us the same old Nancy Drew book, a chapter each night,” Olive tells her conspiratorially. “Then we can compare notes the next day and see if we can solve it before Nancy.”

“That’s the best idea!” Gracie crows. “We can figure out which one during library time.”

“And then you check it out,” Olive says decisively. “Mrs. Hudson has all of them. I can borrow it from her.”

“Ok,” Gracie agrees, already knowing so much about Olive’s godmother that she doesn’t even question the woman would have the whole series. Honestly, Gracie wants to meet her almost as much as she wants to meet Olive’s detective father.

The two girls giggle for a moment at their new plan and then skip into the school building.

***

Saturday afternoon finds Gracie hand in hand with Candace McCleary, a nanny John handpicked while Gracie was still in Bath. They met the day after Gracie arrived last week and she instantly fell in love with Candace, much to John’s relief. Candace would not be a live-in nanny, but is employed like one. John needs her to get Gracie from school and stay with her until he gets home in the evenings. He also needs her to be available at a moment’s notice for when an emergency, like the birth of a baby, arises. John had warned his daughter after Angela Taylor’s check-up on Wednesday that he thought the baby would come early and probably at a most inconvenient time. Sure enough, he received the call just as he started lunch. Gracie was disappointed that her first trip to Hanover Gate Children’s Playground in Regent’s Park would be without her father, but was still over the moon when Candace was happy to take her. She had been looking forward to it almost all week.

“Oh my gosh!” Gracie exclaims as she and Candace approach the playground. There is equipment everywhere to climb and swing on and slide down. Gracie immediately decides the sandpit is first on her list. A tall tree stands in its center with wooden bridges and walkways built all around it. Rope ladders and nets offer admittance and there is even a hammock to sit on. “Candace, this is amazing! This is the best park ever!”

“Why don’t you jump right in?” the woman laughs. “I’ll just be right on this bench if you need me.”

Candace points to an empty green bench as she speaks and starts heading for it before someone else claims it. Gracie calls out her agreement and makes a b-line for the nearest rope ladder. She is up it in seconds and running across a bouncy bridge, laughing all the way. She runs the whole course, turns right back around and does it again. There are quite a few kids in this part of the park, but it’s still easy to work her way around them. After a few more laps on the equipment, a small group of kids asks Gracie to play tag. She recognizes them from school and accepts.

A good hour later, two of the kids have to go home and Gracie is exhausted. She begs off, having had her mind set on playing in the sand since she and Candace got there. Plopping down in a shady spot, she plunges her hands beneath the beige and brown grains. The sand is cool and dry and feels soft in between her fingers, not like the rough sand that is sometimes used in parks. It’s like the white sand from a beach. She has half a mind to pull her shoes off and let her feet sink into its depths. Gracie closes her eyes and wiggles her fingers, feeling the sand move around them like a favorite blanket. She opens her eyes as she curls her fingers around the tiny grains and watches them slip through when she lifts her hands. 

Gracie does this again and again until she grabs a stick and begins to drag it through the sand like a plow. At one point, she makes a short trench and plants sunflower seeds and raisins from the snack baggy in her pocket. She pats the sand with satisfaction after covering them and looks toward the bench where Candace sits. She waves and her nanny waves back. Gracie giggles and gets to her knees, but stops when a figure just sitting down on the hammock suddenly blocks her view of Candace.

“What the…” Gracie mutters, her mouth falling open in disbelief. She gets to her feet and runs straight for the rope hammock and its occupant, who hears her footfalls and looks up with blue-grey eyes.

“Gracie!” Olive cries in surprise as her friend trips in the sand and drops face-first next to the hammock. “Gracie?”

“I’m okay,” the blonde girl declares, pushing herself up and standing quickly. The two girls lock eyes and start laughing. “What are you doing here?”

“We come every weekend,” Olive replies, pulling Gracie onto the woven rope. “Our flat’s just that way.”

“Really?” Gracie gasps with a delighted squeak. She points in the opposite direction. “Mine’s that way.”

“No way!” Olive shouts with glee. “That’s amazing! I had no idea we lived so close.”

“I know right,” Gracie exclaims, beginning to rock the hammock a bit. Olive unfolds her legs to hang them down and help push. “What are the odds?”

“Well,” Olive considers, adopting her contemplative face. Gracie knows instantly that a deduction is coming. She giggles and her smile widens as she watches her best friend. “Since we go to the same school, it seems fairly likely that we would live close together because it’s usually based on geography. However, it’s a bit different with public school. Kids can come from all parts of London as long as they have the money to pay.”

“Oh my god,” Gracie can barely contain her excitement and she stamps a foot on the ground a few times. “We could play here every weekend! I’m sure I could get Dad to bring me.”

“Yes! Let’s set it up now,” Olive sits up straight, ready to jump off the netting. “Is your dad here?”

“No, he had to deliver a baby,” Gracie rolls her eyes. Olive makes a dismissive noise that sounds like she just opened an air-tight container and sinks back into the hammock “Exactly. I mean, babies are important and all, but now he has to wait another week to see all this.”

Gracie swings her arms out wide and tilts her head skyward before flopping unceremoniously onto her back. Olive lets herself tip backwards as well and they soon lie side by side, looking up at the clouds. Gracie points out one that looks like a panda and proceeds to tell her friend all sorts of facts about pandas.

“I even have a panda,” she finishes.

“You do?” Olive asks, her eyes widen with wonder. 

“Since I was three,” Gracie nods. “She’s my favorite stuffie. She’s called Pandy and I sleep with her every night.”

“I have a bee,” Olive says without hesitation. “I call him Wellington, sometimes Wellies for short.”

“Do you like bees as much as your dad does?” Gracie is curious because Wellington might have been a gift like Pandy was, but it certainly sparked her interest in pandas. 

“I don’t think anyone could like them as much as Dad,” Olive huffs a laugh, “but yeah, I definitely like them too. It’s amazing how they make honey and their whole society and all.”

“Wow. Would you tell me?” Gracie fixes her with a serious gaze and licks her lips. “I loooove honey.”

“Sure, and you can tell me more about pandas,” Olive grins and points to a medium-sized cloud. “That one looks like a catapult.”

Gracie cocks a brow and follows her finger to a cloud that, amazingly enough, does resemble a rudimentary catapult.

The afternoon passes as the two girls tell each other stories and make up new games, their favorite being pirates sailing their hammock boat across the sea to a mysterious island. They leave their spot at this point to explore sandy beaches, nearly being vanquished by a giant hippo and almost losing Olive beneath quicksand. Gracie keeps her head about her and is always within Candace’s line of sight, and it’s a good thing too because the two girls are interrupted as tea time nears.

“I knew I’d find you here,” a low rumble of a voice comes from behind Gracie where she sits facing Olive. They have just dug up a treasure of sunflowers and raisins, a very valuable find on the sea. Their eyes grow wide as a menacing laugh fills the air around them. Gracie swallows hard and turns slowly to see the towering silhouette of a man in a billowy black coat. She shields her eyes, but with the sun behind him, she cannot make out his features. He probably has an eye patch and everything.

“What are you doing on my island?” the man demands as he steps closer. Gracie gasps and pushes herself backwards toward Olive to get away from the dark figure only just coming into focus.

“Hi, girls. Is everything okay?” Candace McCleary asks from the right and Gracie glances at her gratefully. Her trusty companion must have bolted from her park bench as soon as the giant appeared. Now she stands alert as though ready to pounce and Gracie breathes a sigh of relief. She hadn’t even seen this man until it was too late. Gracie grits her teeth and silently berates herself as her father’s words about being observant come to mind.

“Uhhh…” Gracie finds her voice, but it comes out as a meek croak. Meanwhile, Olive leaps up next to her and runs for the figure with open arms. Gracie gapes, sure she is about to see her friend eaten before her very eyes.

“Daddy!” Olive cries, launching herself into the man’s arms. Gracie blinks and it is like a cloud has moved from where it had covered the sun. The giant, no longer in the shadows, transforms into a tall man wearing a nice suit with no tie and a long coat. Gracie finds herself marveling at the fact that he doesn’t appear to be hot in the slightest and momentarily wonders if he has ice in his pockets, but stops all speculation when she sees his face. Angles and cheeks like Olive, dark curls and the same grey eyes that seem to change from green to blue and back. The corners of Gracie’s mouth turn up and a sense of ease washes over her.

“Is it time to go already?” Olive is speaking at a mile a minute. “We only just started playing pirates. Can Gracie come home with us? We’re having Thai for dinner. I bet she’ll like it.”

The tall man chuckles at his daughter and the sound is like a really warm blanket, soft and comfy. He glances at Candace and settles his gaze on Gracie. She bristles for a moment at those all-seeing eyes. It’s true they are like Olive’s, but much wiser. Gracie has the feeling he is learning much more from just watching her than anyone else can. She’s not entirely sure how she feels about that, but supposes it’s why Olive is so perceptive and she loves her. Besides, this is her dad. Gracie feels like she knows him already after all the stories she has heard.

“Ah, so this is the infamous Gracie,” Sherlock says surreptitiously with a look in Olive’s direction. The girl smiles broadly and nods while Gracie smiles a little timidly. His chin dips in greeting. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

“I know a lot about you too,” Gracie replies as she rises, finding her tenacity again.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Sherlock answers. He turns his attention to Candace, who still looks a touch uneasy. “And this is your friend?”

“Yeah,” Gracie confirms enthusiastically. “This is Candace.”

She jumps up and grabs Olive’s hand, pulling her toward the young woman.

“And this is Olive,” she exclaims.

“Oh,” the last traces of suspicion vanish from Candace’s eyes and she gestures at the girls. “Of course. You’re Olive. Gracie has been telling me about you all week.” “And this is my dad,” Olive introduces. “Sher…”

“William,” Sherlock interrupts, offering his hand. Candace steps forward and takes it in a firm shake. “Will.”

“Nice to meet you,” Candace replies, not noticing the quizzical look on Olive’s face, but Gracie sees. She also sees Sherlock glance at his daughter and communicate something that clears the confusion from Olive’s mind in an instant. Gracie tilts her head in thought, considering this new information. She and John can do that sometimes too. It makes her that much more certain that Olive is meant to be her best friend.

“It’s quite a coincidence them meeting in the park like this,” Candace is saying when Gracie emerges from her thoughts. “Do you live around here?”

“Yes, just on Baker Street,” Sherlock answers politely, but with a tinge of the tone Olive has when she mutters that something is obvious. Gracie lets out a quick giggle.

“Oh, right,” Candace nods with a friendly smile. “That’s not far at all. Maybe we’ll see you here again.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Sherlock looks down at the two girls, both of which are very excited. Olive is almost dancing in place and Gracie would swear she needed the toilet if she didn’t know better. “We’re here every Saturday just after lunch.”

“Perfect,” Candace says. “That’s about when we arrived. I’ll let her father know too. He’ll usually be the one who brings her.”

“He had a baby to deliver,” Gracie supplies. “He’s a doctor.”

“So Olive tells me,” Sherlock tells her with a certain mirth in his tone. “I would very much like to meet him, especially now that I’ve met you.”

“He’s wanted to all week,” Olive exclaims, giving Gracie’s hand a squeeze. “Ever since the first day.”

“I just can’t believe we ran into each other like this,” Candace declares, still a little dumbfounded.

Gracie doesn’t hear Sherlock’s response because Olive leans in close to whisper in her ear how great it will be when their fathers meet. The blonde nods her head vigorously and they laugh together quietly.

“Oh my, it’s nearly tea time,” Candace says to her watch. “I have to get her home. Are you ready, Gracie?”

“I guess so,” the girl pouts. She throws her arms around Olive in a huge hug. “I can’t wait to see you on Monday.”

Gracie gasps and looks at Olive with wide eyes, her hands still clamped around her arms.

“I’m going to write you a special note tomorrow and make a comic with my favorite markers,” she announces with glee. “They smell like strawberries and grapes and stuff.”

“Oh, wow!” Olive hoots. “I’ll make one of my maps for you.”

“It could be of this park!” Gracie shouts as Candace’s mobile sounds. She pulls it from her pocket and glances at its screen, pressing the surface to turn off the alarm.

“We really have to be going,” Candace says apologetically. “It was so nice to meet you both.”

“And you as well,” Sherlock dips his chin in farewell as Candace takes Gracie’s hand and leads her away.

“Bye, Gracie!” Olive calls, waving madly.

“Bye!” the blonde shouts back.

Olive waves for a good thirty seconds and then turns to face her father with her arms crossed over her chest. She raises a brow expectantly and Sherlock knows precisely why, but says nothing.

“Let’s go, shall we?” he begins walking toward home, knowing she will follow. “I believe Mrs. Hudson is making fresh biscuits.”

“What was that about, Dad?” Olive asks in disbelief, already matching his steps. “Why William?”

“You know I use aliases at times,” Sherlock replies without looking at her.

“Yeah, for cases, but these aren’t criminals,” Olive insists. “These are my friends.”

“I know, love,” he turns his head to see her earnest expression looking up at him. “I just don’t want to prejudice Gracie’s father.”

“What’s prejudice?” Olive furrows her brow as she repeats the word.

“Well, you know my profession can be dangerous,” Sherlock begins.

“Yeah…” Olive says slowly, eyeing him curiously.

“A lot of people know that because they see my name in the media,” he explains. “I don’t want Gracie’s father to hear my name and assume Gracie will be in danger. I’m concerned he will get the wrong impression and feel uncomfortable about you being friends.”

“Oh,” Olive says flatly as if she hadn’t considered that. They walk in silence for a moment until she speaks up again. He knew she would. She is too smart and inquisitive not to have follow-up questions. “So what are you going to do when we’ve been friends for months and it’s time to tell them your real name? Say ‘By the way, my name is really Sherlock Holmes.’?”

Sherlock gives her a withering look and says nothing. Her jaw drops and she shoves him lightly.

“Dad! You can’t NOT tell them,” Olive insists. She bends at the knees slightly to emphasize the word not. “It’s dishonest. Dad, it’s lying.”

“Sometimes we lie for the greater good,” Sherlock tells her curtly.

“Now you sound like Mycroft,” Olive sneers and that stops Sherlock dead in his tracks. He turns to face her, dropping into a squat and meeting her eyes.

“I would do anything for you, Olive,” he says sincerely, resting his hands on her shoulders. She curls the corner of her mouth and cocks a brow.

“Dad,” Olive begins matter-of-factly, “I know that and I would do anything for you too, but you told me I couldn’t lie.”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” Sherlock sighs and then continues resolutely. “You’re right. I’ll introduce myself properly when we meet Gracie’s father. Okay?”

“Okay,” Olive grins and they walk again, hand in hand.

“Olive?” Sherlock says, glancing her way. She looks up at him in answer. “Don’t compare me to Mycroft again.”

Olive lets out a quiet chortle and tightens her grip on his fingers. 

“Desperate measures,” she replies more than a little pleased with herself. Sherlock puffs a quick breath through his nose and smirks as they walk on. Like father, like daughter.

---

What the hell, Jane?? I know what you said at the beginning, but this is unfair. Gracie and Candace get to meet Sherlock, but not John?! I want the boys to meet again! NOW! So sorry, my friends, but you'll have to wait a bit longer. Worry not, it will happen. Eventually. (insert evil smile, cruel chuckle and holding of fingertips together like Mr. Burns) Love, Jane

@johnlock-rocks

[sestra-inestro]

Part of the Team (3/?)

Miniseries for @mushyjellybeans writing challenge. Hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: fem!reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Reader wakes up surrounded by people she knows but she doesn’t know enough to understand their reactions to her waking. 

A/N: I just really wanted to get this chapter over with, I was sick of it. I’m also not a doctor, I only spent a brief time in hospital recently so I still have no idea what I’m talking about but its fiction anyway. I also just started writing chapter 5...you guys got something coming because that shit made me sad, 

 Warnings: Slight amnesia, nothing really. Possibly typos - idk once again, I’m lazy and trust a program I downloaded to fix my mistakes. 

You could hear the voices of people around. Simple conversations and deliberate teasing. 

“If I threw one of the chairs out the window, how many spins do you think it would before it hit the ground?” You heard a male ask. 

“If you kept asking me dumbass questions I’m gonna throw you out the window. How many spins do you think you would do?” Another male said in response. 

There was a pause. 

“I mean we’re pretty high up so probably a few. It depends on the spin of your wrist.” 

“God, do you ever shut up?” 

“How about both of you shut up?” Another male butted in. 

There was another pause. 

“It was just a question.”

There was then what sounded like a clutter and someone struggling against someone else. 

“Stop it now.” Someone growled. 

Then a door opened. 

“I’m gonna have to ask some of you to leave. Fighting in the patients’ rooms is not tolerated.” A woman’s voice told the men and there was no argument as a shuffle of feet followed out of the room then the door closed again. 

The silence was cut short by the sound of fabric rustling next to you and a squeeze on your hand. You felt someone caressing the back of your hand and your fingers and a pair of lips connected with the palm of your hand. 

Feelings the affection, you willed yourself to move your fingers, but you couldn’t just yet. 

The door opened again and a woman’s voice. “Just a check-up.”  Another woman’s soft voice hummed in response next to you. As you felt movement around you, you managed to move your eyes around, eyelids becoming less and less heavy and you could finally see some light. The dull light in the room came with a sudden wave of nausea and pain. Which caused you to groan. 

The person next to you moved so fast another small wave of pain went through you.

“June?” She spoke and squeezed your hand. 

You squeeze your eyes shut again as pain throbbed in your temples. 

“Oh, June.” The woman sounded like she was sobbing. 

Coming to your senses, she sounds familiar. Those men sounded familiar. 

“It’s best if we give her some room, Ms. Romanoff.” Another woman’s voice said. 

The door opened again. 

“June? June, honey can you hear me?” A male called to you. 

“June, We are your nurses Luke and Amy. Can you hear us?” The same woman’s voice said. 

“She’s responding?” Said a different woman. 

“Yes, doctor.” Said the man.

Too many people in the room now, you try to open your eyes but more pain came. 

“Hurts.” You groaned. 

“Alright, June is okay.” Said one of the women. “We are going to give you some Morphine, does that sound good?” 

You groaned in response as you felt a rush of cold go through your arm. Soon enough the pain started to smooth and it became bearable to open your eyes. 

The first thing you see is a beautiful woman with velvet red hair, tied back but falling out everywhere. Her worried, green eyes peered down at you. Nat was here. 

“June?” Asked another woman. You look to your left to see a woman in a white coat next to you. “Can you tell me your date of birth?” 

You mumble your date of birth to her like muscle memory. 

“Okay good.” You watched her through strained eyelids as she scribbled something down on the pad she was holding. “Do you know what country you were last in?” 

You thought for a moment. “United States?” You doubted yourself, it felt like a distant memory of being in the United States.

The doctor studied you for a moment before nodding to herself. 

“June you are actually in London. You’ve been here for a long time.” She said. “I’m am your doctor, Dr. Patel. And you have been unconscious for the last week.” 

You frowned at her. You don’t even remember you became unconscious in the first place. Now you’re in London. 

You looked to Nat very confused. Your mind was all muddled. 

“Nat, happening?” You asked her.

She watched your eyes with hope. She hoped that you had remembered your time together but she dreaded you remembering the treatment that you suffered while they thought of you as a traitor. But, also dreading needing to tell you again.

Nat leaned forward and grasped your hand. “You got your head, June. You were on a mission here and you were hurt.” She told you. 

You were slightly taken aback by her tenderness towards you, as if you weren’t used to her touch anymore, or at all. 

“Was anyone else hurt?” You asked. 

“A few others, but they are all in their separate rooms. And the team is here too.” Nat reassures you. 

On cue, the door opens and in steps in Fury, Clint, Bucky, Sam, Steve and a woman who was almost Steve’s height with a strong sense of authority. She reminded you of Fury. And you heard Clint, Sam and Bucky arguing before. 

“Hey, guys.” You smile at them. 

The men’s worried faces turned into ones of soft smiles. Bucky waved at you from where he stood. 

“Hey there, June.” Steve said.

“So, none of the team got hurt? Just me?” Your words made Nat pause. 

“June, what’s the last thing you remember?” Nat frowned at you and ran her thumb over the back of your hand. 

You stumbled over the thoughts in your mind. Your memories felt so jumbled and a mess that it made your head hurt again. 

“I don’t know.” You uttered out after a moment of thought. 

“June.” The tall woman stepped forward. “Do you know who I am?” 

You thought for another moment before saying. “You’re familiar, but no, I don’t know you. I’m sorry.” 

She gave you a soft, close-mouthed smile. “No need to apologize. My name is Drew Campbell and I’m very glad that you’re okay.” She then looked to Fury, nodded and bid him fair well. 

“Okay, I think we should clear out and let the doctor do her evaluation.” Fury spoke up and ushered everyone out but Nat hesitates as everyone files out, not letting go of your hand. “It’s alright Ms. Romanoff, if June’s alright with you staying then you can stay.” 

She looks at you with pleading eyes as if begging you to let her stay. You squeeze her hand. 

“Please stay.” You told her. 

She smiled at you and nodded. “Of course I will.” 

~

Evaluating you, they came to the conclusion that you couldn’t remember a lot of the last 4 years. Very small memories you picked up on showed that you couldn’t connect them to major things that had happened. 

Not only could you not remember the entire investigation and the undercover agent, but you didn’t remember getting together with Nat. 

“We dated?” You asked her as she still held onto your hand. 

She nodded at you, both hands clasping your hand and rubbing her thumbs over your fingers. This loving warmth from her is something you once wished for when you first joined the team and its something that Nat had craved for longer than she would like to admit. 

“But we broke up?” You frowned to yourself and fiddles with the oxygen hose up your nose. It had been making you uncomfortable but they insisted that you keep it in to best measure your oxygen levels. 

“Yeah,” Nat looks down at your intertwined fingers. “Yeah, we broke up.” 

“What happened?” 

Nat took a deep breath. There was no way she could tell you about this right now, but she couldn’t not tell you. It would all be way too much. 

“It was a misunderstanding.” She told you. “A bad misunderstanding on my behalf and you tried to make it right but I didn’t listen. It’s my fault.” 

Her words make you sad. You could remember having the biggest crush on her, always observing how she fought and how she beat almost everyone at training. She was a whole lot of woman and after trailing after her for a while, you got together and broke up. And you don’t even remember it.

“I’m sure we can work it out?” You squeezed her hand in hopes of convincing her to start over. 

She gave you a sad smile. But one that held hope. But behind it was fear. 

“I hope so.” 

Nat went to lean down to you to place a kiss on your cheek when the door opened, the doctor, Steve and Fury stepped through. 

“The good news is that you are in a much better state than we thought you would be. A little time to rest and recover will do you a lot of good. We will keep you here for a couple more weeks, possibly days, before we send you home, though.” Doctor Patel said positively. 

“Oh good.” You were thankful that you’d be able to go back to the familiar soon. 

“But no missions for a long time. Your body still needs to heal from the bullet wounds and you don’t want to rattle your brain any more than you already have.” Steve pointed to you. 

You gave him a captain’s salute. “Yes, sir.” Trying to lighten the mood. 

“And when you’re all cleared to leave, we have your room set up for you back at the compound.” Fury assured you. 

“Okay.” You sighed. No matter what, you had a space to go back to. 

“I’ll try and stay here for as long as I can.” Nat tapped your hand. 

“Thank you.” You smiled at her. 

Tags: If you’re in the tags, please show some love and like, reblog, comment and share. It would be very appreciated. Crossed out is not working. 

@geekysimmerthings / @blackluthxr / @panoramahearts / @lesbiiionest  / @ludwigvonbaethoven / @cdc-1996 / @sexysamsungl / @daniellajocelyn / @90skid018 / @solaettristis / @5aftermidnight / @booksandlighters / @romeo-the-cactus / @xxxtwilightaxelxxx / @ashadash0904 / @perrythefrickinplatypus

[maggyme13]

Sugar (16/?)

AN; I am sorry for the long delay (again) but Work was hell and still is..

I also apologize if this chapter seems out of place; i simply haven´t written in a long while for this story, so please forgive me for that and any mistakes I made as well... I might edit it later.

Warnings:  none (?)

Wordcount: around 2000

Masterlist

Sugar- Masterlist

Part 15

It was christmas eve  that you finally were allowed to leave  the hospital under the condition to be closely monitored by your friends.

“Now that you are free again, what do you want to do.”, Sam teased.

“Burger. I need some meat!”, you groaned, even with Loki´s ´Luxurious´-hospital charge, the food had been mediocre.

“If that is what you want.”, Loki hummed, trying to hold Hati back from attacking you with kisses, “The ones of the local diner are alright, I heard.”

“Yes, they really are.”

“Good, then we will go and have lunch there.”, the CEO decided.

“And then I want to go and see Ma.”, you stated with a nod.

“Of course. But I can send Thor to retrieve her and joins us for lunch.”

“Na. I will go and see her. There are things I have to discuss -things that should not be spoken of publicly.”

“Again, if that is what you wish.”, Loki breathed into your ear, “But I will join you. No arguments.”

A shiver went down your spine and you nodded, “okay.”

“Boss!”, Sam called out from ahead, “I just called the diner and reserved a table fro everyone. We have three hours before they close for Christmas.”

“Thak you Wilson. You lot heard him, hurry up your lazy asses.”, the last part was more of a laughter and everyone piled into the cars.

The diner was already filled with families and small groups of friends, when the five of you and two dogs entered.

“You must be Mr Wilson. Please follow me. There is a small table I was able to reserve for you. As you can imagine we have a lot to do today. So please except my apology for any trouble.”

“It´s alright.”, you smiled, “We came on a rather short notice. Please don´t stress yourself.”

“Thank you Miss. Please, take a seat and have a look on our menue. I will be back in a bit to take your order.”

“Thank you, Anne.”, Bucky winked, sending her away with a shy smile.

“I will take the Double Cheese with Onions, jalapenos, extra bacon, fries and Soda.”, you declared after a quick glance at the menu.

“For me it will be the ´Meatlover´s` with Fries and Soda.”, Thor exclaimed with his stomach agreeing.

“Same for me, only with potato wedges instead of fries.”, Bucky hummed.

“I am gonna eat the wings with fries.”, that was Sam.

“I think I will take the Mac´n´Cheese.”, the dark haired CEO hummed, “And some baked-apple-pie ad dessert.”

It took Anne fifteen minutes to return to your table and another five to take the order, because Hati and Skali kept begging for attention by the waitress.

“I will be back as soon as possible with your orders. Just give me a few minutes to get you your drinks.”

“Thank you Anne.”, you grinned.

-..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..-

The food was delicious and after around one hour your little group was finished.

“Here is the check, Sir.”, Anne said, “Do you want to play cash or using card?”

“Cash, if that is alright with you.”

“It is fine by me.”

“Good. This is for the food.”, Loki said, handing over some money, “And this is for your excellent service, and this for the people in the kitchen.”, another two 100 Bills landed in the girls hand, who in return was lost for words.

“Uh-uhuh. Th-Th- Thank you, Sir. But this is far too much. I – I can´t take this.”, she spluttered and you piped in.

“Yes, you can. And believe me: If you don´t take this money now, he will find a way for you to get this somehow. He doesn´t take ´no´ for an answer.”

“Uhm. This… Thank you so much, Sir. God bless you!”, she almost squealed.

“It´s fine. Have a Merry Christmas!”

She thanked him once more when she closed the door of the diner behind them.

.--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..-

“Are you sure you want to do this?”, Bucky asked one last time before turning into the parking lot of Teller-Morrows.

“Yes.”, you spoke with determination in your voice.

“Well then. We will stay at the cars, you know what to do if you need our help.”

“Rosebutt”., you nodded.

“Rosebutt.”, the security nodded back in union.

“Looks like we were already found out.”, Thor stated, nodding to the entrance of the clubhouse where multiple bikers had already gathered, including your brother and his brothers Tig and Kozik.

Stepping out of the cars, you noticed the way the biker´s tensed statures changed once they realized it was you, to a more relaxed. And most of them even left to go inside.

Anger rose in your heart with every step to took towards your brother, and being usually calm and not known for using physical force, a round of surprise noised were heard all around. You had punched your brother in the face, hurting yourself in the process, but also (hopefully) hurting him while bringing your point across.

“Fuck you Happy Lowman!”, you growled, shaking out your hand, “Fuck you and your stupid way of thinking! Damn that hurt. I hope I broke your nose.”

You did not. You were not even sure that this punch had hurt him at all, but at least he was looking down ashamed.

“You heard that? Or did your Boss tell you?”, he grumbled.

“I heard you. For real? I can understand why you did what you did. At least when I was younger. But I am sure, you could have explained everything once I was, what, maybe 18 or just before I left to study? Did you think me this stupid?”

“You ain´t stupid and don´t ever believe someone who claims you are!”, he growled with so much love in your voice you nearly laughed.

“I know I am not! But seriously? Do you know what I had to go through because I believed I was alone and did not want to pull Ma into my trouble? When I thought I had nowhere to go? When I had to live on the streets!  When I was fucking harassed my a swine of a man. When I was sure I would end up in jail? And don´t even think about going into full big-brother mode or something! You lost that right up until the point of a few days ago! But you may have it now, if you stop being an asshole from now on and more of a brother. I do not forgive you right now, but maybe I will in the future. For now I am happy to maybe start anew?”

“ I would like that.”, he nodded, “And I really am sorry. For everything.”

“Good. You do deserve a broken nose though!”, you grumbled, “Where is Ma?”

“In the clubhouse. Hasn´t spoken to me really since I send you away. Deserved that.”

“Yes you did. And before this goes further: how the heck do you know about the account? No one knows about that!”

“I have my informants. Though they never told me about what you had just told me.”, he rumbled, “If anything like that happens again, call me. And I mean it- I will ride my harley to that damn city if I must.”

“Mhm… And you-”, you pointed at your mother who had just joined the two of you,”- don´t you ever be angry or disappointed because I don´t tell you thinks. And do never argue with me if I want to buy you things or help with stuff. If I didn´t know that bafoon of a brother as well as I do, I would be more than disappointed with you not telling me all of this shit. But alas, as we all are as stubborn as they come, there is no need to argue. It was what it was and what done is is done. No need to fret over thinks that can´t be changed anymore.”

Your mother smiled, “God help me with such stubborn children.”

“And us with such a stubborn mother.”, the two of you hummed in union.

“I am sorry to interrupt this moment.”, Loki´s voice suddenly piped up, “May I suggest having some pie or other baked goods together? To celebrate this?”

“And I have just the right cake for this in the fridge. If you have a place. We have a deal, Mr Laufeyson.”, your mother exclaimed and you knew there would be no other choice now, not that you would have wanted.

“As a matter of fact, I have. I am sure your brother is aware of the address. “

“Yeah.”, the brother in question grumbled.

“Good. You go ahead. I will get myself and the cake ready and Happy will drive us there. Say 4pm?”

“My pleasure.”, Loki nodded and offered you his arm, that you happily took.

“We will take care of everything else.”, the CEO smiled his charismatic smile.

“See you later Ma, Happy.”, with these words you allowed Loki to escort you back to the cars.

-..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..-

The five of you had returned to New York two days later and were now in the middle of planning how the lot of you would celebrate  New Years Eve.

As you learned, there was usually a big Party at the Bifrost, because of that every one of the friends group was able to celebrate together while still being at work.

“Are there any rules on what to wear?”, you asked Loki one evening while cooking dinner, as he was sitting at the table looking at some designs for a new collection.

“Whatever you like. You could go naked for all I care, but then I would suggest having a private gathering with only the two of us.”, amusement and a bit of flirting was in his voice.

“Maybe after the official part. For now I just need to know if there will be others apart from us at the VIP or if there will be -others.”, you asked again, turning towards the CEO over your shoulder.

“If you are hinting at someone like Quill, then don´t worry your beautiful head of. Our Area of the VIP lounge will be private and separated from the rest. There will be no unwanted attention.”

“That´s exactly what I was hinting at.”, you poked out your tongue, “But seriously, I am representing you and whatever I do will reflect on you and your business. I don´t want to do something wrong or disappoint.”

Having stated this, you turned your attention back to the food, so you did not realized the man hat gotten up from his seat and stepped beside you.

His hands reassuringly caressing your shoulders and arms, he spoke with the warm tone you loved so much.

“No matter what you do, you can not do anything that would reflect badly on me. That is not who you are and even so, I don´t care what others think of you.”

“Maybe.”, you hummed.

“What else is troubling your mind. It is not only the question on what to wear.”, he stated, his arms snaking around your middle.

A deep sight left your chest and you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace.

“I haven´t repaid you for the other night.”, you mumbled, the slight feeling of guilt had been plaguing your mind for the last couple of days. Just as Loki himself you liked to take care of those that are important to you, and so having been brought to a release without your partner finding one had you feeling that way.

“That night was about you and what you need. Not what I need. And trust me, I have just as much enjoyed that night as you did. Just because I did not came to a release, does not mean I got nothing out of it. I got you and that is far more important than any release you could have given me. You gave me your trust.”, he hummed, his nose buried into your hair.

But still…

“Now, may I ask what is for dinner?”

“Chilli.”

Part 17

AN 2.0.

REBLOGS and comments are appreciated:)

Thank you very much.

~MaggY

Taglists:

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I couldnt tag a few of you… sorry.

Want to get tagged as well? Comment, Reblog or send an ask to let me know.

[sweetness47]

Too Lazy to Care

Pairing: Dean x reader

This is for the Seven Deadly Sins challenge hosted by @ne-gans​

Word count: 1225

Warnings: possibly smut, language, laziness, Dean being an ass, MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY

Summary: Dean can really infuriate you some days, especially when he’s in one of his moods.

Yeah, it was one of those days. You know the ones, where your significant other decides to be an ass and almost completely ignore you?

And it made me want to strangle the man.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dean is everything a girl like me could want. Strong, devastatingly handsome, rock hard chiseled abs, and those mesmerizing green eyes. Not to mention that panty-melting smile of his.

But his mood swings were something I could definitely do without.

Those were the times where I honestly wondered why I was even in his bed. He would either ignore me completely, give me a peck on the cheek, or worse, he would make love to me, but with an air of duty instead of passion.

As if I were some kind of chore he had to take care of. Chuck forbid I should actually get any response or enjoyment from it.

Sam knew about the mood swings, and he knew what it did to me. He knew my anger, my frustrations, my desire to fucking slap the man senseless. He would make attempts to cheer me up, and most times it worked to some degree, and for that I was immensely grateful. Otherwise I’d be insane and Dean would be six feet under.

No, seriously. When two people love each other, they talk, they communicate their feelings, they make love, cuddle, and keep each other safe. Or at least that’s what I was always lead to believe.

So this morning, Dean wakes up grumpy. Hardly says two fucking words to me. He showers and gets dressed. Now, sometimes this happens if we are dealing with a tough case, or an exceptionally difficult hunt. But today? None of those things are in the menu.

He’s sitting having coffee by the time I enter the kitchen. Sam gives me that look, the one that warns me what kind of day I’m going to have. I roll my eyes, mentally preparing for whatever fate happens to throw my way.

I sit beside him and say good morning, he grunts. Doesn’t even look at me. He has no interest whatsoever in searching for a new case. In fact, he looks positively bored and depressed. Ok, depression, maybe, considering what we do. Seeing innocent people haunted or killed by monsters, demons, spirits…it’s enough to destroy one’s mind. I get that. But keeping it bottled in? Not good for the psyche and definitely not cool for a relationship built on communication and trust.

He slowly saunters to the common room, sinking to the couch and turning on the TV. He doesn’t even care what show is on. He doesn’t even watch it. He just stares off into space, zoning out me, Sam, everyone.

Part of me crumples when I see him like this. My heart aches to take him into my arms and just hold him. I’ve tried that, but he pushes me away and tells me to leave him alone. The first time he did that, I cried all afternoon. Sam held me, stroked my hair as I sobbed uncontrollably on his shoulder. He knows how much I hurt when I see Dean like this. And Dean doesn’t even seem to care.

At some point, he goes to our room and lays down. I’m playing cards with Sam on our bed, but when Dean walks in, Sam leaves, giving me a sad smile as he does. I try to cuddle with my boyfriend, hold him close, show him he can lean on me. He does respond this time, turning to face me.

He kisses me, slowly removing my clothes, while I remove his. But that’s where the romantic part ends. He crawls onto me, not that I mind, it’s why I’m here. I am wet, but not a lot. He thrusts in slow, but it’s uncomfortable because of the lack of juices.

His movements are agonizingly lazy, like he doesn’t want to put in the effort. It’s just a chore. Something he feels like he has to do instead of something he wants to do. I try hard not to cry, I refuse to show him how much it kills me when he does this. I don’t know how much more my heart can take. I love him so much, but this is the one thing that could drive me away.

I wrestle with the thought. I have numerous times. But at this particular moment, it’s more than a thought. It’s slowly killing me. And I know leaving him will completely demolish what’s left of my heart. But for the sake of my sanity, I honestly don’t think I have a choice.

I wait till he’s finished and he falls asleep. Then I quietly pack up my clothes and toiletries and move back to my original room. I won’t leave the bunker, and I won’t leave Sam. They need my help. But I can’t be with Dean. Not now, perhaps not ever again. My heart is already shattered. I’m withering away.

Sam knocks on my door to check and see how I’m doing. I cry again. He just lets me rant and vent, letting me cry on his shoulder again. He’s been my one constant friend in all this. I won’t lose him because of Dean’s indifference toward me.

~~

Dean’s POV

YN has been nothing short of a miracle since she became part of my life. I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been. But, I realized she’s also my biggest weakness.

That’s when I decided I needed to keep her at a distance. Not too much of a gap. I just needed to take an occasional day and cut off all thoughts of her, zone out. It takes every bit of will power I possess to do this to her. But I need to keep my emotions under control.

Because I know it would kill me if anything ever happened to her. I honestly think I would close down completely, give up on life, because YN is my life.

When I do pay attention to her, I just make it seem like I don’t really care. It pains me to see the hurt in her expression, to see how much it affects her. All I want to do is kiss away her tears and her worries, tell her it was all a ruse.

But I don’t. And that was my downfall.

I went too far, let it happen too long.

When I woke from my nap, I saw the drawers open. Her clothes missing. I panicked, thinking she’d left the bunker. Then I saw the note. She was still in the bunker, but had moved back to her own room. YN had left me because of my ‘mood swings’.

I did what I did to keep her safe, to keep us safe.

But I failed.

I lost her to laziness, to sloth.

My face falls into my hands as I let loose the tears I’ve held back, feeling like a complete fool. I deserve this. All of it.

@drkcnry67​ @akshi8278​

[mariinara]

TWENTY-TWO (Sam Drake x Reader) ANGST |PART 1|

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I'm STILL alive lmao. I've been so held back by finals that I didn't have time to actually think of writing or the premise of this request but a thought suddenly OCCURED to me and HERE WE ARE. Hope ya'll enjoy this 🥰.

Request for anon: '14, 18, and 19 for angst prompts with Sam? 👀👀 I also really really adore your work!!!'

Tags: @the-drakeboys , @the-winchesterboys , @missdictatorme , @hrgnm , @elledrake , @samdrakeftw , @ghost-of-the-oldwest​, @s4mdrake , @purplezebra68

Prompts: "Can you just kiss me? One last time? That's all I ask.." + "Don't make this harder than it already is.." + "It's better this way."

Warnings: OKAY. So this one has none of the prompts yet. This gets a little NSFW towards the end. HUGE age-gap between Sam and the reader. Mentions of Sam getting cheated on. So on, so forth.

Word count: 4,106

(Part 2 here!)

“I got it.” 

You reached out for the plates Sam held in his hands, giving him a polite smile as you did. He returned it and carefully handed them over to you, being cautious so as not to drop the multiple cups in his other hand.

“Thanks, kiddo.” He said, to which you smiled brighter before turning around and walking over to your best friend and Sam’s only daughter-- Avery. Sam was hot on your heels to the kitchen and you placed all the dishes in the sink for you and Ave to clean up. 

You smiled to yourself when you saw Sam giving his daughter a quick kiss on the cheek, which made her groan in embarrassment but giggle when her dad made fun of her. It's always been like that. You’d sleep over at their place for the weekends and help around the house after dinner. It was a tradition that you’d kept ever since kindergarten, back when Sam and your father were friends, before the asshole completely bailed out on you and your mother when you were quite young. Sam had your mom’s back throughout the years, with family court, some expenses she couldn’t handle, finding her a job, taking care of you when she was working late. They were like brother and sister and you grew to be Sam’s second daughter, but as soon as you hit sixteen, spending time around Sam became for the sole purpose of just..

Being around him. 

You didn’t know how or why it happened, but ever since that whole month he’d spent picking you up from highschool with his daughter to go over to their place, make dinner for you, and struggle with calculus, you felt those butterflies in your stomach whenever he’d call you “sweetheart” or kiss your forehead or give you the warmest of smiles. He did the same thing with his daughter, but you weren’t his daughter and, since that month, Sam became the epitome of the man you’ve always been dreaming of. 

He was funny, spontaneous, had a heart of gold, but jokes as dirty as the bottom of his worn out Timberlands that only added to his rugged charm. He was supportive, understanding, and showed unadulterated love and passion towards his daughter-- towards bringing her up. Granted, he was stubborn and had a bit of a temper and rarely ever listened to the voice of reason, but those traits all came with the ‘pure-hearted man’ package. 

And when you went to college with Avery and the two of you got a summer job outside of Boston, you found yourself missing the man during the entirety of the summer that you’d spent away from him and when he’d facetime you and Avery, you’d stay up talking to him about movies, books, your job, how your day went. He cared for you like a daughter and while that was frustrating for you for a couple of months, you found out that as long as you were around him, that was enough. As long as he loved and cared for you, that was enough. You were no longer interested in having a much older man wrapped around your finger. You didn’t know how he might react but you were sure he was going to lecture you about how you were too young. How him and your parents had been friends for over two decades. That you were like a daughter to him, nothing more. You could literally feel the red hot waves of embarrassment creeping up your neck with the mere thought of confessing to the man who constantly drove you crazy with the simplest of gestures.

But you swallowed your tongue and bottled up your more-than-likely teenage hormones and never told anyone about your feelings. Nobody knew. Not even Avery. Especially not Avery. You weren’t prepared to lose your childhood best friend over emotions that’d eventually fade. And you weren’t prepared to lose the only “father-figure” in your life, either. 

So, there you were: Cleaning the dishes while chatting about random subjects with Sam and Avery. Your mind and heart were heavy, but you weren’t willing to ruin the few days off you had in Boston with your family. Your mom was in New Jersey-- too busy with work to drop everything to come and see you. It was upsetting, but those two made everything better for you.

You looked over your shoulder when Sam called out to both of you from the living room and, coincidentally, you’d just finished drying the last dish. You and Avery exchanged looks before chuckling.

“He sounds excited..” You commented, to which Avery rolled her eyes with a smile she couldn’t conceal.

“His video game just got here..” She nonchalantly said, but that caused your eyes to widen slowly before you dropped the rag from your hand.

“What video game?” 

“Uhh..” She pulled on a thinking face, “Dead.. Red.. Somethin’ -- I dunno, dude.” 

In a flash, you were out of the kitchen and on the couch, right next to Sam, who looked at you with a grin which you returned with a bright smile, “You ready?” 

You sighed and shook your head, “Ready to watch you fail miserably at this.” 

“Oh, that is-- That’s not fair.” He laughed lightly while you waited for the game to install data. He’d turned to you when he said that, faking defeat. You smiled and shook your head, looking down at your hands.

God, he was so perfect. The way the corners of his eyes tugged up when he smiled. His wrinkles. His bright, warm, hazel eyes that held both strength and tenderness. 

Nope. You weren't getting over that man anytime soon. And when you snapped back from staring at him, you found him staring back at you silently, his eyes jumping from yours and to your lips and then you felt it.

That spark. 

His smile softened and some perverse area in your brain convinced you that he was leaning closer. Or maybe you were and he stayed still because he wanted this as much as you did.

"You guys again.." Avery sighed as she plopped on the lazy boy chair next to the couch, her eyes on the TV screen. 

Sam cleared his throat and looked down at his lap, rubbing his sweaty hands against his thighs and you looked down at your hands that were nestled between your thighs, biting down on your lip to contain a girly giggle. 

"What is it with you two and video games?" Avery asked, resting her head back on the back of the chair. 

You turned to her, immediately perking up at her words. You then sighed and sat back with an eye roll, "Your daughter is such a disappointment.." You muttered to Sam, who shook his head in fake dismay, clicking his tongue.

"She can take that attitude to the orphanage." He joked, which made you look at him with furrowed brows, a surprised laugh leaving you.

"Har‐Har. Very funny." She rolled her brown eyes at the both of you, crossing her arms when her dad sent her a wink and mouthed an 'I love you', "You two just have fun and I.." She stood up from her place, "Am gonna crash." She stretched her arms up with a groan and a yawn afterwards, reaching under her pyjama top to scratch her stomach.

"Alright, baby, g'night." Sam called out, receiving a wave-off from his daughter, "I love you!" He called out with an amused grin.

"You're not gettin' one back, old man." She called back from the top of the staircase that led to her room. Her response made Sam laugh lightly. 

You looked at him when he did, soaking in his infuriatingly good looks. You couldn't help but smile when he shook his head and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, the controller in his hands and his eyes glued to the TV.

"Ready?” He asked, sending you a grin and a small eyebrow raise, as if he was challenging you.

You raised a brow at him in the same fashion and nudged his shoulder with your fist, grinning back, “Ready to see your ass getting kicked, y'old geezer.”

Sam rolled his eyes and focused on the TV and you could see his little smile from the corner of your eyes, only to see it falter as he looked at the controller and back at the TV repeatedly, “Uhh..”

You looked down at the controller to see that the blue light wasn’t emitting from the front, which meant he was disconnected. You smirked as you watched him struggle and button-mash with a questioning look on his face.

“Either you’re really exhausted or you really don’t know how to work a PlayStation controller..” You quipped, trying to hold back an amused chuckle, “Which I doubt.”

Sam frowned in confusion at you and looked at his controller again, his shoulders slacking when he saw that it wasn’t lit. He breathed out a chuckle, his eyes closing. You could tell that he was beating himself up at his own lack of focus, “Yeah, okay..” He reached for the charging cable and plugged it into the controller, “Got it. Thanks for the help.” He sarcastically muttered.

“Don’t mention it.” You replied nonchalantly.

And there he went, completely immersed in playing, while you watched him take one too many bullets, get devoured by giant snakes, or gallop off a cliff. He’d curse and laugh in frustration, his head getting thrown back while you teased him about how he’d make the same mistakes over and over again. You made short trips to and from the kitchen to grab some beer for both of you to go about your long gaming hours.

An hour turned into two, which turned into five-- by some miracle. Two bottles of beer turned into six, and then it was the whole pack. You two handled alcohol well, but it didn’t mean that you weren’t a little tipsy. You found yourself laughing at your blunders when it was your turn to play, which elicited laughter from Samuel, despite not knowing what was so funny. 

You then sighed and paused the game to rub your eyes, calming down from whatever hilarity that was going on. You then sniffled and sat back, “I dunno how Ave doesn’t like video games..” You mumbled, watching Sam taking a swig from his beer. He then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swallowed with a heavy breath afterwards. 

“Uhh..” He leaned forward to put the nearly empty bottle down, “She’s more like her mom than anything; She got everything from ‘er.” He paused for a second, “Uh-- Well not everything, but..” He sent you an unreadable look, his lips pressed together in a thin line, “She’s still here, y’know?”

You knew. 

Ave had told you about why her mother was no longer in the picture. Rather, she was never in the picture. Not for Avery, at least. She was too young when her mom “left” them. The lack of a father for you and the lack of a mother for her was why your relationship grew stronger. You were both missing certain aspects from your life and you could relate and understand each other better because of it. So while it was a curse, it served as a blessing. She was always open about that issue and about her past. 

But the reason you perked up when Sam started talking-- when his voice had the faintest tinge of sadness and his eyes glued to his hands as he fiddled with his thumb, seemingly deep in thought -- was because he’d never opened up to you about that particular bit. You knew everything, but only in Ave’s perspective and you never knew how Sam felt about all of it. 

“Whaddya mean?” You asked, adjusting yourself on the couch so one leg was bent under you and the other was on the floor, your arm resting on the back.

He glanced at you, unsure. He seemed like he wanted to take what he said back. His eyes darted nervously around the living room and he pursed his lips, clearing his throat, “I’m.. sure Avery told you." 

You shrugged, a small, warm smile playing on your lips, "But you're not Ave." 

Sam's left thumb rubbed against the palm of his right hand and he looked down and away from you, his leg bouncing up and down and his elbows braced on his knees again when he leaned forward. He seemed like he was thinking deeply about what you'd said and after a few seconds, he let out a sigh of surrender. 

"Do we have any more beer left..?" He quietly asked. You blinked and stopped fiddling with the fraying thread on the stitching of the back of the couch.

"Uhh.." You racked your brain, "Just the shitty kind.." You replied with a small shrug.

He nodded, still not looking at you, "Grab one." 

 "Alright.."

You made a quick trip to the open kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing him a bottle and popping it open. When you were done, you went back to the living room, sitting back down next to him and handing him the cold beverage. 

He rested back and placed his arm on the back of the couch, bringing the bottle to his lips. You watched him intently, leaving him to collect his thoughts. You knew he was trying to filter them-- to decide what it was he was going to say and what it was he was going to leave out, but God, you wanted him to be as authentic and transparent as possible. 

“I tried..” 

He suddenly started. His voice had dropped an octave, as if he didn’t want you to hear that. You did, though, and his words -- as simple as they were -- made you frown deeply. You just wished he’d look back at you but he only looked down at his lap, his fingers tapping on the bottle that rested on his knee. 

“I really.. really did..” He shook his head slightly, “I tried for Avery.. She was so young and I thought she needed her mother, but..” He let out a dry chuckle, reaching up to rub his forehead, “One day, I come back home after a long day out with Avery.. We–" He laughed softly– wistfully even, "We spent the whole day at the zoo and.. I'd almost forgotten about why it hurt to be at home, but.." He shrugged, frowning again as his gaze lowered. You saw him swallow thickly, as if he was holding himself back from an outburst, "I walk in there and I see another man in my bed with my wife.." 

Your heart stung at what he said. What made it worse was how he said it. His voice had cracked and it was barely above a whisper. You never knew what Avery's mother did exactly and upon hearing that, you wondered how a person could be so selfish. So willing to give people like Sam up for her own personal pleasure. So willing to leave her little girl with that permanent scar in her life. 

"I knew she was doing that.." He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, his brows twitching to a furrow as he swallowed again, only a bit harder. He pursed his lips and exhaled shakily, "I never thought that she'd bring him home. To our room. Our bed.." He wiped the palm of his free hand against his lap, inhaling a shaky breath, "The.. same goddamn bed where our baby girl slept between us while we sang her to sleep.."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and felt your eyes well up with tears at what he said. He'd been keeping those thoughts to himself all that time and it seemed as if finally voicing those thoughts– the nightmares that clawed at his brain every single night – brought tears of comfort and relief to his eyes. 

Your eyes flickered up to see him frowning, his eyes still closed and his lips pressed tightly together. But there was no way you could miss it: That single, glistening tear that ran down his cheek. You felt the anxiety bubbling within you. 

That was not what you had in mind.

You didn't want to see him like that.

You thought he'd stopped hurting from that a long, long time ago but you were wrong. It never left him. He carried that weight around while simultaneously trying to raise a happy daughter all by himself. 

He covered his eyes with one, trembling hand, rubbing them while trying to take deep breaths to calm himself. You reached for his back and started to rub big, slow circles silently, letting him know that it was okay to let it all out. That was something that you've never experienced before. In all of your years knowing him, that was the first time you've seen him like that. And you absolutely hated it.

How he trembled with every cry he held back from you. How he furiously rubbed away the tears from his eyes with his fingers. He reached to set the half empty bottle on the table and plopped back again, his posture surrendered and weak.

“Oh, baby girl..” He breathed out, shaking his head slowly, “If I’d known she was gonna grow up, knowing that her mother betrayed her, hurting because of it for so long.. I wouldn’t’ve married her..” He finally removed his hand from his eyes and sniffled, “I wish she’d know how sorry I am sometimes.. Because I look at her, and..” He sighed, trying to find the right words, “I just-- I see a beautiful, smart, creative girl who deserves the world and I always feel like there’s somethin’ missing in her life and it’s like whatever I do, it’d never compensate for the lack of a mother figure and--”

You cut off his rambling by squeezing his shoulder lightly, “Sam..” You shook your head, a deep frown on your face. For the first time during the past fifteen minutes, he looked at you. He looked so lost. His cheeks were stained with tears and his eyes were red and glassy with the layer of tears that begged for one more reason to drop from his hazel eyes. You pursed your lips and shook your head at him and the longer you looked at him, the more you felt his pain. And before you knew it, you lurched forward, right into his arms, hugging him close. As close as possible. Your fingers curled to grip at the back of his t-shirt as you closed your eyes tightly and let your own tears run down your cheeks. He seemed to be in a state of shock for a couple of seconds but, slowly, his arms snaked around your waist to hug you back. His fingers sunk in the skin of your back through the thin pyjama top the tighter he held onto you. His nose was buried into the crook of your neck and, despite your furiously beating heart, you mustered up enough courage to let your fingers slip into the back of his hair for your nails to softly and soothingly scratch his scalp.

“You could’ve never known, Sam..” You spoke, your voice a hushed whisper as you continued calming him with your fingers, “Avery is the best friend I’ve ever had and it’s all thanks to you and you alone..” 

You felt him inhale deeply, his chest pressing against yours more as his lungs expanded and the breath he let out against your neck almost made you dizzy but you continued without fail, “I hope you know that I think you’re the most amazing human being on this planet and, when in doubt, remember how much you’ve helped me and mom through the hardest times..” 

Sam slowly relaxed in your arms and his hand started rubbing circles on your back until it was just about the both of you, comforting each other in the comfortable silence. His steady breaths let you know that there was an enormous weight on his chest and it’d been lifted only then. During that conversation. It was all he needed: Someone to listen to him and hold him and..

He slowly pulled away from the embrace but his hands were loosely on your hips. He looked at you with a warm gaze. Stared into your soul, unraveling you then and there. The look in your eyes-- that pure adoration you had towards him. The way you gave him those big, beautiful eyes and bit down on your lip while you stared at his. It made his breath hitch in his throat. 

No one had ever looked at him that way and as much as that scared him. As much as it was wrong and unethical. He felt himself gravitating towards you. It was absolutely ridiculous how both of you had no control and almost seemed surprised by your own actions. While one hand remained on your hip, his other raised to brush your hair out of your eyes to tuck it behind your ear and grab the side of your neck, his thumb brushing on your jawline once, twice, three times as he leaned closer and closer. His breath fanned your lips and suddenly, his lips were against yours. 

The warmth inside you burst. It overflowed. Your brows arched and you took in a deep breath, in disbelief of what was going on but it felt so good. So wrong but so right all at once. As bad as it was, your eyes fluttered shut and your resolve melted away completely, but Sam suddenly realized..

You are his friend’s daughter. 

He practically raised you.

He pulled away with a disapproving groan and pressed the back of his hand to his lips, blinking repeatedly. You studied his reaction carefully, your own fingers ghosting your lips as you took in a shaky breath. 

“Fuck..” He breathed out, his eyes closing and his brows knitting together, “I’m sorry, sweetheart-- I dunno what came over m--” 

You silenced him by grabbing his shirt and pulling him to crash your lips against his again. 

‘Fuck it.’, you thought, ‘He needs this and so do I.’ 

Your hands went to his shoulders, your grip firm on his muscles. He was still tense and he wasn't kissing back but, God, when your tongue brushed his bottom lip softly, he felt his willpower dwindling away. 

He wasn't thinking anymore and neither were you.

It was a right-here-right-now moment and you were going to cease the chance and hold onto it with your nails and teeth.

When he relaxed and kissed you back deeply, you pushed him down on the couch, never breaking the kiss as you straddled his hips. His hands were all over you. Under your top, his nails scratched at your tender skin gently and the moan he let out when you pressed yourself against his crotch snapped something within you.

And Sam?

He was too far gone.

'Fuck..' He thought, 'This is so wrong.. So fuckin' wrong..'

He watched you hastily unbutton his pants and he told himself to stop this. That there was still time for him to push you off of him and tell you what a mistake that was. But he couldn't help it. The innocence in your eyes as they flickered to look up at him. The sweet yet devious grin you sent him. 

The fact that you could get any man you wanted but needed him right there was enough to make his resolve crumble. 

He let out a grunt and closed his eyes, throwing his head back and trying to steady his breathing. You were so needy. Your hands were on his hips as your mouth fully enveloped him. He couldn't help himself. His hips bucked and low, gruff curses tumbled from his parted lips. 

And you couldn’t stop yourself. 

You wanted to relieve him and he felt so good. His hands brushing your hair back and holding it in a tight fist. And you watched his head rolling back again after he’d mustered up enough strength to look at what you were doing. 

You didn’t know it yet but you had much to regret soon.

And so did he. 

Nothing would ever be the same again after that night. 

[dcbbw]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tag, @ao719​!! With Election Day Tuesday and work kicking into even higher gear this week, no promises on when any of my WIPs will be touched. I am writing this evening, so hopefully something gets posted this week. 

This week’s sneak peeks are under the cut, and please heed the warnings for the last snippet (UnRomance, Chapter 10) 

Dress Up (Kinktober, Day 17)

Riley looked at him with eyes dark with desire and clouded with wariness. “No sex!”

“I know,” Liam nodded.

“You think I’m silly.”

Liam shook his head. “No. You’ve been hurt. I’m fine with going slowly.”

Riley kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you. I just … I wanna get it right this time.”

“Me too.” His fingers raked through her hair.

Liam shrugged out of his shirt; Riley walked backwards to her bed; the backs of her legs hit the edge and she sat down. Her eyes were glued on Liam’s body the entire time. She grinned when she saw his boxers matched his socks. His eyes caught her smile, and he looked at her sheepishly.

“If you tell anyone about this …” he warned.

“What? That you have more than sock game going on?” she teased.

“Oh, I have plenty of game, Riley B.”

Marked (Kinktober, Day 18)

Olivia’s fingernail unconsciously traced the scar that lay beneath her clothing. On the royals’ wedding night, she had been stabbed by her husband; a husband no one had bothered to inform her about. Olivia had willingly taken wound to protect Liam. To save Liam’s life.

Liam knew it. Oliva knew it. Riley did not.

Both the King and Duchess said Olivia’s bravery was for Cordonia.

Yet, she was still whispered a traitor.

Yet, Liam never once acknowledged her feelings towards him.

Sometimes, Cordonia sucked.

She set her fork on her plate and pushed her chair back. She gave a brief smile to the table. “Exciting news, indeed! I’ll be returning to my compartment now; I didn’t rest well last night and want as much energy as possible for Paris.”

There were distant nods of acknowledgement; once again, Queen Riley was the center of attention.

The tapping of Olivia’s stilettos was muted as she walked briskly down the aisle of the carpeted train car. She was pressing the oversized button to open the car door in front of her when she heard his ragged breathing, smelled the pine and leather of his cologne.

Drake Walker.

 Betrayal, Part 2—Vengeful Thoughts

Barthelemy drank deeply of the bourbon in the glass he held in his hand. Gray eyes locked with gray eyes. Barthelemy’s eyes traveled over Bertrand appraisingly before speaking.

“Tomorrow, I am giving an announcement to the country. You, that commoner bitch, and your bastard child will be there with me, offering the full support of House Beaumont.”

Bertrand’s face flushed as his hands curled into fists. “You will NOT speak of my WIFE AND CHILD that way!”

His father pushed the Duke aside as he strode across the room. Barthelemy’s fingers traced the spines of the books housed in the built-in mahogany bookshelves. “Lythikos did not go as planned; I have planted the seeds of doubt and driven a wedge between the Crown and the Duchess. But I need to ensure that I obtain the unanimous vote of all the Great Houses, including this one.”

“As the Duke of Ramsford, my allegiance lies with the Crown. Their Majesties have brought both peace and prosperity to all of Cordonia, not just a select few.”

Barthelemy’s fingers fell from the books; he shoved both hands in his pant pockets. When he spoke, his voice was low and his tone flat.

“You are only Duke because I was unable to fulfill my duties as a result of  the downturn of my health. But I’m back, son. Now, either you and your band of misfits support me, or you are ALL out on your pathetic asses once I reclaim my rightful title. And before you run and tell your little friends about this, just remember: the Rys Queens love their tea. To death.”

 UnRomance, Chapter 9

Riley rushes to her friend, wrapping an arm around Nita’s shoulder as the short blonde cries into Riley’s black dress. Sam doesn’t even spare his lover a glance as he follows Sofia and Robin out the door. I am unsure if I am angry or amused at Sam.

For certain, I am unsurprised by the way everything went down: Sam has always been a greedy, selfish bastard. He doesn’t believe in the give and take; he offers women nothing but dick pics, barely there promises, and half-hearted sex. No gifts, no quid pro quo. I am also not surprised he paid Nita no attention; he’s weak and afraid of confrontation.

I am angry because now Riley is being a friend and my day-long fantasies are thwarted. But it’s a stairwell; I can take her in one anytime. Besides, I am now wondering if this could work out to my advantage; Riley doesn’t want to be shared with another man, but we have never discussed other women. I could care less about Nita’s embarrassment and heartbreak. I do care how I can turn it to my advantage.

Nita is emotionally vulnerable. She trusts Riley.

Riley is in love with me. She trusts me.

If I play my cards correctly, this could be the most satisfying Sunday afternoon I’ve had in a long, long time.

Games--UnRomance, Chapter 10 (also for Kinktober, Day 26)

Trigger warning: Pet play and noncon (there isn’t going to be a safe space in this fic)

We make our way slowly down the hall; our destination is the living room. He jerks the leash, encouraging me to keep up with him. He looks back at me with a smirk on his face. “Come along, Josephine. I have a treat for you when we get to the living room.”

He sits on the sofa, his legs spread. He lays back, a lazy smile on his face. “Wag your tail.”

I shake my hips and buttocks. He pats my head. “Good girl.”

“Sit.”

I rest back on my haunches. He nods in approval and satisfaction.

“Bark.”

My lips press together tightly. I don’t want to do that. I shake my head. He raises an eyebrow.

“Bark,” he repeats, impatience in his tone.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” I speak.

“Riley, I am not going to negotiate with you. Now, you can bark or go fetch the riding crop.”

“NO!” I yell. Why doesn’t he understand that I don’t want to do this anymore?

“I don’t like this anymore, Liam.”

His expression is now bored, but his eyes glitter. I feel the slightest lick of fear in my stomach.

He presses his palms together and laces his fingers.

“Go get the belt.”

I begin to rise, but he raises his hand. “You will crawl everywhere until I give you permission to stand. Now, go get the belt.”

I look at him confused. I open my mouth to speak, but again, he stops me.

“The game isn’t over. Now, be a good bitch and fetch me my belt. And don’t make me repeat myself.”

 I’ll tag @sirbeepsalot​ @bebepac​ @glaimtruelovealways​

[choicesreal]

About me.🗣

🗣Well, first of all..I was born on 30th of October. It’s a pretty boring and uneventful day lmao. I’m not going to say the exact birthdate, however it’s in the 2000′s.🤸🏽‍♀️

🗣My pseudonym’s Silsha, and my real name also starts with a “S”, I’m just keeping it secret ‘cause I want to keep that mYsTerIoUs vibe going on, is it working?🥺

🗣I’m from the Philippines, born and raised. I am also full Filipino (or at least I think so? My mom said we have a lil bit of French blood in there, so..🥐oui 🥐 ).. I was actually supposed to be raised in the US, but my mom’s visa got declined. She went to US last year though! (not me getting jealous but ok.)

🗣I’m an ambivert. There are times where I’m shy as fuck, and times where all the nastiest in this world’s dictionary comes outta this big ass mouth. There are times where I grab any opportunity to keep away from other people and just stay in my room with my trusty book and earphones, while there are times that I go out with my friends and go to the mall or chill in their houses. (ofc, before COVID happened.)😷

🗣I’ve played Choices since early 2018, and boy, if my past self would look at how addicted I am to it now, past self would run screeching to the ends of the Earth.  🏃🏽‍♀️ 💨

🗣My favorite books from Choices are Open Heart (this is the one fucking reason why i’m stuck going crazy over one blue-eyed spoiled child diagnostician called Ethan Jonah freaking Ramsey), The Heist Monaco, A Courtesan of Rome (the main reason why I’m OBSESSED with ancient Roman history, and why I want to go there on my birthday.), Platinum, A Royal Masquerade, Perfect Match (though I wasn’t able to finish it..) Blades of Light and Shadow (my bb Tyril 😿) Distant Shores (FUCK YOU PB, FUCK YOU.) Queen B,(yeah, I know it was such a mess, but I kinda liked Ian ;-;) and last but certainly not the least is....Most Wanted!

🗣The other games that I’ve played and stayed for a while was Romance Club (please, please, please support and check this app out! It’s really worth it and won’t disappoint you!) and Chapters (this was the game that I’ve also been obsessed about too! Aside from Choices, when I took a little time off of Choices and went inactive with this account, this was my only safe haven then, with all of those schoolworks pouring in, it was really hard to take a breather.)

🗣What does Choices mean to me? It means the world to me, the absolute world. Hell, because of it, I got to meet so many nice and appreciative people here on this platform itself.(Thanks, Tumblr. I’ll make sure to give you a five star rating if I don’t forget it again😭) I got included in a community that I felt really comfortable to be in, and most importantly, it made me happy. I consider it as my safe haven, from being depressed and anxious. I’ve never really acknowledged myself as one, but it’s noticeable, even to myself. I just don’t show it. Our education system here sucks, just..no words.

🗣My favorite singers are (internationally): Sabrina Carpenter, Camila Cabello, Taylor Swift, Dua Lipa, Adele (queen, please come back🕊),The Weeknd, and many more that I can’t remember. 

🗣My favorite songs now are: (pls try to listen to them if you have the chance!) Skin by Sabrina Carpenter, Earned it by The Weeknd(yeah no actually, every song of his is my favorite, sorry not sorry.), Tango by Abir, This City by Sam Fischer, Safety net by Ariana Grande (all of her songs in her newest album, no actually all of ‘em!), Loves Control by Camila Cabello (another artist who’s powerful enough to make me love all her songs.) and so many more LMAO i’m just lazy to type all of it, it’ll go on for decades.

🗣I almost forgot- I’m a she. It may come of as a shock to others, some not, but yes. LMAO. I think it’s pretty obvious from how I talk online.

🗣I’m a pretty chill not chill student. (not me lying to myself to make me feel better.) But really, I don’t put that much effort when it comes to education, and I didn’t even review when it comes to quizzes and exams back from 1st-6th grade. What changed? Well, the fact that became older and became more self-conscious about it (my grades). But, I still don’t give it my all partly because of my belief that we should enjoy our youth. Studying too hard may hinder that. And so, I did just that. I’m not particularly a naturally intelligent student. I’m just observant and can be pretty hardworking if necessary (groupings for school projects and stuff.) I’m not the type who goes and becomes a leader in one group cause I can’t handle the pressure and I don’t give enough authority vibes to be listened to (I can though, if y’all push my buttons too far.), however I act as an assistant leader, who also helps in anyway I can and handles all the research (’cause I love learning new things online, and I love to research.) And so, I kinda became a With Honors type of student. (sHocKer.) And honestly? I don’t regret putting a bit of effort in school, because I get to see how proud my parents are for me.

And if you’ve made it this far...you’re a complete sTalKerR!! Nah, just kidding you’re cool. LMAOO. Thank you for reading this short-filled information about me, or also known as @choicesreal. It’s been really fun to type this out, because I might come off as kind of a closed book around others in the community. This is a text to let you learn a few bits and tiny details about me! Part 2? Maybe. It really depends KDJHAKDJH. And now it is time for me to end this post as my eyes are stinging.

With that, Paalam muna. (From my native language, it’s translated as “Goodbye, for now” in English.)