#and it is some weird balance to have to be raised by your Father's sister's which in biblical terms is your mother

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

I might be the one pretending to be insane.

Actually I am sanely showing that true brilliance IS insane.

Excuse me. My story about the restaurant is true and it's gonna fuck with her how I said it with such conviction.

That's fucking easy. It's the dead ass truth that's why.

Now I have hunted to her plenty to examine things but she is subconsciously avoiding it.

[tinylilacbun]

Ok so what about big brother Rafe and the youngest cameron where she is like 3-5 years old, she is just loves her big brother so much, and dont understand why is everyone afraid of him. Also rafe is only soft when it comes to her😭💞

Big, Bad, and Scary?

Pairing: brother!rafe cameron x sister!reader

Warnings: none I guess?

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It was no secret that you love and look up to Rafe, of course you do, he's your big brother after all. It's just that with everyone else he seems to be intimidating, a crazy spoiled rich boy with short temper who only seeks his father's approval.

But with you, with you he's patient and almost instantly drops what he's doing the second he hears you call for him. Somehow only you get to see a side of Rafe that no one gets to experience. Maybe it's because you look at him like he's the only person in the world, that you just want to spend time with him.

He doesn't get it. With what does he deserve all your adoration and love for him? He didn't exactly do anything to deserve that except for listening to the things you got to say and simply existing.

Rafe can't complain though, it's nice to have someone who actually appreciates him or isn't judging him even if you're just a four year old who doesn't know better and only wants to spend time with her brother, not knowing how messed up he really is.

The scary thing is he could be shouting and having an angry fit in one second but the moment you enter the room he's calm again, afraid to scare you and destroy the bond he has with you.

"God, Top, could you stop your fucking whining already?" He snaps into his phone, standing on the balcony with one hand resting on the railing, the other gripping his phone tightly.

As Topper on the other line keeps complaining he hears your small feet toddle behind him, feeling you tug on his shirt a second later. He looks down, holding the phone away from his ear. "Yes?"

You only raise your arms in response, making grabby hands. The request is clear and Rafe sighs, balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder he bends down to pick you up.

As you place your head on his shoulder he focuses back on his call, taking a deep breath, your mere presence alone has him a lot calmer. "A'ight, listen, we both know who did that and make sure he regrets it. Just- I'll text you soon. Yeah, bye."

He ends the call, pocketing his phone and turns his attention to you. "So, what's up with you, hm?"

"S'nap time, Rafey." You mumble, a yawn escaping your lips and without another word he walks back inside, making his way to your room.

You would notice when people avoid looking at Rafe, rushing past him to not accidentally set him off somehow. Like at the beach, you're just building a sand castle with Rafe sitting beside you, busy on his phone when you see a group of boys walking past, glancing at you both and suddenly speaking to each other in hushed voices.

You furrow your brows, looking over your shoulder and watching them for a moment longer when Rafe pokes your side. You turn back to look at him. "Rafey?"

"Yeah...?"

"Why people look at you like that?" You ask, tilting your head.

"Like what exactly?" He puts his phone aside to give you his full attention.

"Dunno...they always look at you weird." You mumble, mindlessly working on your castle.

"Oh, uh-" He scratches his chin, thinking about how to explain it to you. "Y'know...some people are just- surprised I guess. It's nothing bad, you don't need to worry 'bout that."

You nod seeming to accept his explanation, placing the last sea shell on top of your sand castle to finish it up.

One day Rafe took you to that outdoor movie thing that has been organized. It's unsettling how he can still look intimidating with you sitting on his lap, your legs swinging back and forth on each side of his, giddy with excitement.

"When's it gonna start?" You ask craning your head to look up at him.

"Soon, kid. Just be- hold on. Top, look over there." Rafe stops mid sentence, nudging Topper's shoulder and pointing in the direction of Pope and JJ. "Told you they'd be here."

"Yeah, great, what do you think we can just go over there and give them a mindful?" He remarks sarcastically.

"Course not you dumbass." Rafe rolls his eyes, noticing you trying to reach for your cup that was on the ground beside his chair. He grabs it, handing it to you. "We gotta wait for the perfect moment to surprise them."

After it got dark, you were still engrossed in the movie that was playing and munching on the popcorn with your back resting against Rafe's front. You make a sound of protest when he suddenly stands up, placing you to sit on his seat before crouching down in front of you.

"I'll be right back. Stay here and don't talk to anyone, okay? I won't be long." He makes sure you nod before standing straight again, ruffling your hair and walking off with Topper.

Your moment of concern of them being away is gone the second you focus back on the movie. Everything was well when suddenly the screen caught fire, people jumping up gasping and shouting in surprise.

You jump in your seat at the sudden commotion, looking around frantically and tearing up but don't dare to get up. Rafey told you to stay.

Speaking of Rafe, he was behind said screen after his little altercation with the two pogues. His eyes wide as he notices the fire, snapping out of his adrenaline haze as Topper slaps his shoulder.

"Dude, your sister..." He reminds him.

"Shit-" Rafe doesn't think twice, running off to where he left you, his anger forgotten the second Topper mentioned you. Stupid, he is so damn stupid. Leaving his little sister alone just because he felt like messing with the pogues.

He quickly finds you, feeling guilty the moment he sees your distressed expression and the tears running down your cheeks. Immediately he picks you up, placing his hand on the back of your head to cradle you against his chest.

"Shh, you're okay. I'm sorry, I'm here now..." He murmurs, starting to walk towards where his truck is parked, rubbing your back the whole way there.

Your crying subside to quiet hiccups but still cling onto his shirt tightly. He leans against the truck, still trying to soothe you by murmuring softly in your ear and holding you securely in his arms.

"There we go, all good now?" He asks as you pull away, his thumb wiping away some of your tears. You nod, the moment of shock disappearing as exhaustion takes over. "Let's go home."

He turns around and opens the back door, getting you settled in your car seat and buckling you in. Rafe kisses the side of your head before shutting the door, running a hand through his hair with a sigh when he sees Topper approaching him.

"She good?" He asks, obviously concerned about you.

"Yeah...just a little spooked but she's fine. I'm gonna get her home now, see you on the golf course." Rafe pats him on the back, rounding his truck to get in the driver's seat, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. You're already knocked out cold and he smiles at that, turning on the engine.

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Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Ayla shrugged, glancing over at Blaze with a nonchalant attitude, "Freya always liked being by herself... If she's not with me or Blaze..." She recalled seeing her be around Snotlout a few times, as well as the Thorston twins once in a while alongside Astrid, but never around Hiccup. "She just does what she's supposed to around Berk and then, I don't know...leaves?"

She lifted her chin, pointing towards the Sand Wrath as though he couldn't already hear her, "He's my dragon too! Until...until I get one for myself..!"

Wanting to enlighten the mood a bit, Freya glanced in the direction of Blaze as he remained on the roof, speaking in a sarcastic manner once again: "Yeah, well... I'd probably willingly lead you into a net trap back then if I did, so it's probably best I didn't go."

As she recovered from her stumbling, but not from her embarrassment, she glimpsed at Hiccup when he said her name, thankful that the darkening sky provided her the relief of not allowing him to see her reddened face. She nodded weakly at his comment, mumbling out a "You too..." Before she rushed inside.

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

Ayla was filled with excitement and anticipation for what might happen, feeling like they were doing some form of a secret mission as they went to the training grounds, "Don't worry, no matter what happens, I'll just make sure to look at Fey if she does anything extra weird and our plan will work!" She chose to follow him to lean against the railing, waving at her older sister with a wide grin.

Freya almost hadn't seen them both, acknowledging them with a faint smile before she returned her focus on the group, carefully listening to her father as he was giving one final review of everything they've learned so far. Ragnar walked up to the viking that previously told her to move out of his way, looking him over while he spoke: "You, what's your name again? You can go first since you look so..confident."

"...Arvid... it's Arvid." He spoke pointedly, appearing annoyed that his name wasn't remembered. He was given no further chance to complain as Ragnar firmly gestured at the sword he held, silently telling him to step up. "Okay, okay.." He muttered, sauntering out of the line which the rest of the group stood. Making eye contact with Freya, he didn't hide the glare that he threw her way. That, however, only made her restrain herself from laughing, glancing at Hiccup with an amused smirk.

"Okay.." She sighed out, leisurely walking up to him with a reasonable amount of distance between them, extending out her sword with a straightened arm, "Show me how you would block or counterattack this." She lowered her arm before slowly lifting it back up again to the original position she had it in, giving him a clear opportunity to do what he wished. Her eyes closely followed each of his movements as he thrusted her blade away with his, quickly pointing it at her face once he was finished.

Freya, however, caught something that he messed up on. One of his feet slightly stepped the side, allowing her the perfect opportunity to make him trip. "Good...but you made one small mistake. Do it again." She firmly commanded, raising her sword as Arvid questioningly returned to his original position. Once he repeated the same actions, he didn't see her own foot swiping underneath his, making him stumble; he was still wobbly standing, though.

'That's for talking to me like I was some sort of child.'

Assuming she would try and get the sword out of his hands first, he lifted it up so she wouldn't reach it all the way, but she roughly went to kick his leg, throwing him more off balance.

'That's for the judgmental look from my dad.'

Freya swiftly brought her sword down against his, making it fall from his grip as he too staggered onto the floor, wincing from the impact.

'And, darn it..that's for Hiccup making me have feelings for him!'

Not realizing what she had thought yet, Freya steadied her breath as she stalked up to Arvid, securing her sword back into it's covering before reaching down to grab his sword, the familiar austere expression on her face. While he tried to get up, she abruptly thrusted the tip of the blade on the floor beside him, stopping him from moving. Kneeling down next to him, she spoke, "Your movements were too sloppy, you practically gave yourself away with your first swing and you weren't looking at anything else but my weapon, bad mistake on your part."

Ragnar nodded his head in approval of what she said, agreeing with a lowered tone, "If you were really paying attention, you would've paid close attention to her feet as well, not just her sword; that's only one part of the fight, not the whole thing."

With a sudden idea in mind, Freya tightly gripped the handle of Arvid's sword, mockingly smiling at him as she established her victory, "I'm sorry, am I in your way again?" She reveled in the irritation that practically melted off his face, knowing she had proved him wrong in more ways than one.

Ragnar spoke up, preventing another fight from happening, "Alright, that's enough. We're moving on now." Finally noticing Hiccup once he was finished talking, and the small cheer Ayla did, he motioned for him to come to where they all stood with folded arms.

Hiccup shook his head with a shrug. "Honestly, Ayla? I really have no idea what I did, but...I'm glad she changed her mind, that's for sure."

At that comment, Hiccup chuckled. "The twins would've helped you do it, actually. You know they actually spent a couple days-- uhhh, you know what? That's a story for another time." He cut himself off, wanting to keep the mood light.

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

Glancing back at Ayla, he gave her a grin. "Thanks! I appreciate that!"

Freya should be a little relieved though, since part of her concerns was if Stoick joined them. Thankfully he was unable to, having to renegotiate with the traders today.

Standing beside Ayla, Hiccup watched with interest, listening to Rag ars instructions.

He definitely knows his sword work, Hiccup thought to himself. And that guy looks familiar...

While he knew everyone on Berk, it took him a bit to place this Arvid.

Then, it clicked. Oh, of course! He's the one Freya threw her knife at that day!

Oh, wait...

He's in for it now, Hiccup realized, leaning in a bit to get a better look.

The future chief couldn't help but smile at Freya's amused smirk, raising his eyebrows slightly, showing he was looking forward to seeing her put Arvid in his place.

Hiccup noticed it as well, Arvid wasn't paying close enough attention. Now, it was Freya's time to shine.

A warm smile found its way on his face as she disarmed Arvin, knocking him to the ground and using his own sword to keep him there.

His dad was right. Freya would probably make a great Chieftess someday...

Realizing the thought that just came through his mind, his eyes widened slightly, and he blinked in surprise.

Just as he managed to...feel normal again, he noticed Ragnar beckoning him forward.

Nodding, he made his way towards Ragnar and the others, standing next to Freya.

"What can I do?"

[ffxiv-swarm]

prompt 18: hackneyed

“They want me to come back,” Hahki’a says at the breakfast table one morning.

Family chatter ceases. Everyone knows who they are—the Conjurer’s Guild, who were incensed when Hahki’a Otombe completed his training and promptly left for the Shroud, never to set foot in the Stillglade Fane again. That was years ago, now. Rrisya’s never been prouder of her baby brother. The rest of the family is too, of course, but Hahki and Beriss’to never would have settled in the city if they didn’t believe in some city values, and neither of them have been entirely sure what to make of their only son wearing the serpent tattoos and feathered cloak of an Otombe shaman.

Mirra is between Rrisya and Hahki’a in both age and seating, and asks—frowning—“Are you going to do it, Kiki?” in a tone that says she wants the answer to be yes. She’s always thought her big sister and little brother were weird.

Their parents exchange glances. They’re both striving for calm, but Rrisya sees her father’s tail puffing up under the table. Kiki worries at his bottom lip and says, “You know what they’re like.”

Rrisya grimaces. She does know what they’re like. “We must preserve the balance of nature,” “Wood’s Will be done,” “The spirits will it,”—she’s heard all their stupid, hackneyed phrases her whole life, and she can’t imagine how Hahki’a managed to study under them without snapping and bludgeoning anyone with his cane. She would have snapped. But the conjurers are also disgustingly persistent, and she...

Well. She has some sympathy for people who get worn down by them. Not everyone’s family is like her own, close-knit and supportive to the last after weathering the Final Days together. Some people have families like her friend Ritanelle’s, who think she’s dead because it’d be better than her being alive and a source of shame. They’d probably shove Kiki into the arms of the Conjurer’s Guild, if he were one of theirs.

But he isn’t, so she says, “Don’t listen to them. You know what you believe. You know what’s important.”

Her mother is staring at her now. She blinks back. “What? What’d I say?”

Hahki Otombe shakes her head as if to clear it. “Nothing. ‘Tis only that you remind me so much of Grandmother when you look like that.”

“She’s not that much like Grandma,” Mirra mutters. “She’s not telling us we shame the ancestors for even considering it.”

“Did I raise you to speak like that about your elders?” Hahki demands, ears flicking.

The answer comes from all four of her children in unison.

“YES.”

And Kiki adds, “Don’t worry, Mama. I’m not going to do it, I just...wanted you all to know. In case they start being...pushy.”

Beriss’to Mriha’s eyes narrow. He’s a merchant; he’s never lifted a weapon to harm another person in his life. Hells, he barely even leaves the city. But when he and Rrisya meet each other’s eyes—when Mirra twins her tail with her sister’s under the table—when Hahki growls quietly and lays her ears back—she knows they’re united.

They won’t let anything come for their family.

[snowzing1]

Writing pet peeve

I do not like it when we are seeing the POV of a character, and a character talks about an arguably completely okay and normal part of their life and goes "I know. Its like. So weird. But that's my family. And, like, it's not gross either. It's normal to us but like. So weird. The first thing I have to tell people is that it's not weird". And I just. I just. ???????????

The authors intent is to bring this character/ group specific characteristic, normalise it, but then treats it abnormal and makes the audience question if it's normal because that seed of doubt is planted in their head???? That's a complete contradiction

It's different if a one-off situation occurs that's *natural* and its brought up in the story. Two characters have opposing views and struggle to understand the other

But why would the author straight up tell you it could be weird, like so weird, but this is different. This isn't weird. Okay. Then what is the weird version??????

You know, I love exploring families in stories. I love seeing unique relationships in stories. I love exploring things that I may not normally do with my friends but is still "normal" by the stand point of others. We all do things that are normal to use, completely freaking weird to another. That's in itself is normal, to not hold the same values, habits and traditions. So why are we getting so characteristic specific and completely going against the idea that it's normal to be different??

Your an author. You have power. The reader hangs onto each and every individual word. You let them inside your head, your interests and ideal are reflected on each sentence you construct one way or another

So why you making the audience's mind wander and wonder what the weird version is like and why this is not the "weird version"?????

Some people kiss their family on the lips, from mother, father, brother, sister, daughter, son, uncle, aunt, cousins, and that's normal. Some people do lock their houses every time they leave or return home. Some people are comfortable enough to be naked or snuggling with their closest friends or even family. Some people are raised to know how to use a knife- or some other fighting form of self defence. Some people tell their parents absolutely everything- including if they had sex for the first time- some people tell their parents nothing. Some people believe eating meat is wrong. Some people believe yoga is a necessity for a healthy spiritual balance. Some people believe you should mature faster. Some people believe in no sex before marriage. Some people believe tattoos hold values. Some people prefer the country life.

So why are we doing the opposite of normalization and instead planting the seed of doubt???? Why are you so obviously trying to normalise but then completely failing????

I have a passion. This is a thorn in my side.

(Not my cat)

[cartcop]

Concept that’s been floating around in my brain since I saw the guest cast:

Kameron & Connor involved in the disaster, baby survives but they don’t and Buck ends up with baby. Thoughts?

Honestly I don't see it happening for a few reasons, but that's not to say I wouldn't be down for it if it DID happen.

For one, this season has focused a lot on striking the balance between biological and non-biological family—we had Buck and Chim reconciling with their parents for their own well-being (or at least Chim; still not entirely sure what the resolution with Buck and his parents is) but at the same time, we had a whole episode really cementing Bobby in his role as Buck's chosen father figure. We've had Henren and their struggle with Denny's bio dad, ultimately culminating in them standing their ground as Denny's parents, but allowing Denny to explore that relationship because it's what he needs. With all that in mind, I think it would be a little bit off-theme for Buck to get Kameron and Connor's kid just because they died; they've really made it clear that Buck doesn't see this kid as his, and with the baby being very much theirs, I don't think the baby going to Buck makes much sense. Surely he would go to their next of kin, right? Unless of course there's something in 6x17 with Kameron where it's made clear that they've chosen Buck in the event of their deaths which would be a wild thing to do, but maybe also an interesting exploration of Eddie's will? Idk, seems like it'd be a lot to cram into 2 episodes, what with everything else going on. And then Buck would have a baby. Which would also be a lot for the show to deal with going forward. (don’t get me wrong, I want to get that man a baby asap. but im not sure the writers would agree with me)

The other thing is that it just feels....really dark for 911. Like orphaning a baby? Taking the opportunity to raise him away from the parents who wanted him so badly? I mean, lord knows there's been some dark plot lines on the show but ending the season on that would be....whew.

I do kind of love the idea that the pile up that causes the bridge collapse includes civilians that we've met over the course of this season. I saw someone else mention the disaster could start at the end of 6x17 and Marisol could be involved, and that's why she's in both episodes. Marisol (who's house Buck helped fix up) causes or is the first person injured in the pile up, injuring Chim (Buck's soon-to-be brother-in-law), Natalia (Buck's....girlfriend, maybe? Too soon to say), and Connor and Kameron (old friend and woman carrying a baby with his genetic material). Battle over his priorities ensues (save Kameron and the baby who's got half his DNA but leave them without Connor? Save his chosen family and the love of his sister's life? But if he does one or both he can't save his hot new death obsessed love interest? I mean, also exceptionally dark, but could turn out okay maybe? Idk, I'm very intrigued though.

send me your spec for the last two episodes of s6 (but don't be weird)

[live-tweeting-hotg]

Maris x Aemond oneshot? Also can Maris be sword trained by her grandfather Boremund? (Like she’s not pretty but she’s athletic)

Basically it just Maris getting herself into trouble because of her big mouth. Like always.

Like he catches her making fun of him for being so serious to her sister Floris. So he goads her into a sword fight by saying women can’t fight.

Underlying sexual tension. Hate/love. Aemond trying to put her in her place but Maris is a spitfire.

Big Fucking Bat [a.t. x reader]

summary: Maris calls Aemond a big fucking bat.

pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!reader

warnings & content: sexual tension, violence, swords, death threats, swearing (I plagiarise Shakespeare), Aemond being himself

wc: 1.6k

a/n: thank you for the request- hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it ;)

Aemond Targaryen leant against the stone wall of the courtyard with crossed arms, lips twitching half in amusement as he listened to you talk shit about him behind his back. 

In the short time that he’d been listening, you had called him, amongst other things, an “albino cunt”, a “son and heir of a mongrel bitch”, a “glass-gazing, finical rogue”, and his personal favourite, “some kind of weird pirate-princess cross breed.”

The first time he laid his eyes on you, he did not think you were beautiful. You nose was broad, set comfortably below sharp, narrow eyes and strong, dark brows. You laugh came easily and wildly, and you carried yourself with a confidence and openness that suggested you would better suit a breastplate than a corset. He took in the stories they told about you in court, how, as a child, you trained at the sword and the bow with your grandfather, Boremund Baratheon, and how you had broken your leg falling from his horse, only for your septa to find you laughing as he carried you back into the castle. He found you interesting at best, irritating at worst, but he hadn’t considered that your views on him could become so… opinionated.

You were not in the best of moods. Ever since Aemond arrived at your father’s court, he had refused to smile at anyone and stalked the long halls in a solemn, brooding manner which annoyed you to no end. You would have held your tongue about it, with Aemond being your father’s guest and a prince of the realm and whatnot, until an incident this morning made it impossible to bear your annoyance in silence. 

You had been carrying the plates on your arm, carefully balanced stacks of pies and sweetcakes, preferring not to trouble the servants, when a tall figure billowed past, clad in a trailing black cloak, knocked the ceramic out of your arms and carried on without a single glance back. After your initial shock, you looked down at the ground and found that not a single plate was left intact. You gritted your teeth. Aemond fucking Targaryen. 

That was how you found yourself in the courtyard, leaning against a stack of sparring swords and various other weapons, ranting to your sister about every wrong that the prince had committed during his very short stay. It felt like an indescribable relief to let your words flow out finally, without any semblance of restraint. Floris listened to you speak and only smiled, letting you hold the conversation. She, too, understood that this was a necessary outlet for your pent-up frustration.

“Why the fuck was he wearing a cloak inside anyway?” You continued on your tirade, blissfully unaware that the object of your dissent was around the corner. “It’s so stupid. It makes him look like— like a big fucking bat!”

Aemond’s one eye shot open. Everything else that you had said, he could take in stride. After all, he’s had much worse thrown at him in King’s Landing. But insult his favourite cloak? He would not stand for this. 

You were still talking when you heard steps behind you and saw Floris freeze, eyes darting to stare behind you, eyebrows raised in a silent warning. Whatever next insult you had in mind died in your throat.

“No,” you said, almost in a whisper. “He’s not behind me, is he?” Floris blinks once, slowly, and you send a silent prayer to the Mother. Have mercy. Please.

It become evident that the Mother was not feeling particularly merciful, as you heard Aemond’s voice ring behind you, cold, mellow, flowing with an undertone of fury. “If you wish to bitch about me, Lady Maris, then at least have the good grace to do it to my face.” Floris excused herself quietly, looking visibly shaken, and disappeared with a flurry of skirts. When you finally turned your face towards him, Aemond was surprised to see your eyes blazing with a ferocity he had only ever associated with the crudeness of a bloodied battlefield. 

“Gladly, my Prince. Did you catch everything I said, or would you like me to repeat it to your face?” You aimed your words like knives. Aemond was still for a moment, his face unreadable, before he inhaled sharply through his nose and met your eyes. 

“I would have your tongue for this, my Lady.” He spoke flatly, as if delivering not a threat but a promise.

“You may take it if you dare, your highness.” You weren’t sure whether it was pride or stupidity that flooded to your head and made you spat out the words. Blood coursed through your ears and your skin tingled, like the thin, dry air pulled apart by tension before the breaking of a storm. Aemond’s pale blue eye flashed and you pressed further. “Remind me, my Prince, what was it your nephew took? One of your eyes or one of your balls?”

Aemond’s smile caught you by surprise. To say it was a smile, you thought, would be less accurate than saying it was a baring of the teeth. One strong hand snapped up to grab your jaw, forcing you to look upwards, and as he leaned in, you could see the fine contours of his face was twisted into something pointed and purely malicious. 

“You forget yourself, Maris.” The words were quick and low. “I could kill you here and no a single man in the realm would dare to speak against me. Not even your suitor—” He paused, eye glittering, and you clenched your jaw, waiting for the blow. Whilst your sisters had received proposals flung from all corners of the realm from knights and lords alike, you became the subject of endless jests as the only Baratheon to never have been courted. “Ah, I forget. For what poor bastard would willingly take you into his bed, Maris? Your cheeks flushed and Aemond smirked mirthlessly at your reaction. The hand on your jaw tightened, fixing you helplessly in place as he brought his lips to your ear. “Tell me, my Lady— do you intend to remain chaste forever, or have you already begged the stable boy to fuck you?”

You stood against Aemond wordlessly, clenching your hands to stop them from shaking. You felt his breath against your cheek as he exhaled in a quiet laugh. “Your clever tongue and your swords won’t save you from your fate, my Lady. To be wed unhappily to some fat lord, bound and bred to squeeze out heirs—” His voice seeped through you like ice. “Like a whore.” 

You choked on nothing. You— How could he—

Rage slammed through you like a solid iron bolt, knocking your rationality senseless. The stack of sparring swords were behind you, within grasp, and your hand reaches for it before you realised what was happening. Aemond steps back, right hand crossing to his belt to unsheathe his own sword. Later, looking back on it, you would remember hazily that there was something about his composure that was almost too expectant. 

You hear, rather than feel, metal clashing in mid-air. As Aemond brings his sword back for another blow, you drop low and lunge for his centre. He sidesteps the thrust and intercepts your blade, locking it into his with a skilled turn of the wrist. You press forward, unbothered, until his is forced to break contact and reposition himself, bracing for another attack. He takes the time to begrudgingly study your steps: for someone who is so openly distasteful of dancing, your footwork was truly admirable. 

You cover the length of the open corridor in a flurry of swords. Unlike the other young knights you’ve sparred with, Aemond’s strokes are balanced, calculated, almost immaculate. Every blow you plan, his sword is right there to meet you. In another world, you would have thought that he made an excellent partner. In this moment, however, the only thought that occupied you head was the itching realisation that he was fucking annoying. 

Another clash of steel takes you to the middle of the courtyard. Aemond deals a brutal overhead blow, and you square your shoulders to take the full force of it against your sword. Your teeth bare as the blades strain against each other, as you, by some miracle, press Aemond’s sword back until it edges against his own neck. “Fate means nothing to me,” you say, breathing against the mettle of blades between you. The sound of your own voice startles you. You had not intended to say it out loud.

Aemond merely smiles, with a cold glint in his eye that had become too familiar. Suddenly, horribly, you realise that you were too close to him. What—

It is all you have time to think before his leg sweeps out under you, making you lose your balance, tumbling to the floor, blade flying from your hand. You half-crawl towards your sword, almost grasping the hilt before Aemond’s hand closes around your leg to drag you back against the ground. Before realisation hits you, Aemond drops down to trap you under him, a knee tucked tightly between your thighs and one hand snaking up to pin your arms down. The other hand discards his sword almost lazily, before returning to grip your chin once more. 

You are, for once, left at a loss for words, as Aemond takes the opportunity to slide his hand down to close around your throat.

“I should kill you, Maris.” His voice is like cool velvet. You gasp for breath and his grip tightens. 

He speaks again, almost to himself. 

“But what fun would that be?”

[imaginefan]

Werewolf Or Hunter

Derek Hale X Reader

Word Count: 1069

Requested: @emaz-0225​

Request: Hey can you do an imagine where the reader is Stiles older sister and she was in the same grade with Derek Hale and they have a one night stand and she gets pregnant with their son and Co parent the son was born July 4th and his name is Caelan. The readers name is Emily and she ends up being part of Pack McCall and she finds out a secret her mother is an Argent. Maybe this can be a series lol and it is Teen Wolf

Your Dad was a police officer and often told you the importance of thinking through your actions so wasn't happy that you had a one night stand and got pregnant but that didn't mean that he made any decisions for you. You decided that you wanted to keep the baby no matter what happened, you told Derek (the father) that you were pregnant and for a little, while you were sure that he was going to be around but it turned out that you were both amazing co-parents. Derek was cold to a lot of people but he loved his family and while you were officially together in any way, he definitely loved and cared for his son, he sat you down when Caelan was 1 and decided to tell you about a secret of his family, after showing you some proof that werewolves existed and some time to get used to it, you went on with your life and eventually decided that it was time to go back and visit your Dad.

When you got back to Beacon Hills the first thing that you realised was that your brother was acting weird and so instead of trying to figure it out yourself you decided that you were just going to ask him "what is the matter with you?" You asked one morning after your Dad had left for work. "What are you talking about?" Stiles asked as he stuffed more food into his mouth. "Your acting weird and you know it." You mumbled before turning back to Caelan giving him the chopped banana and sitting down next to you. "I'm not acting weird." He shrugged. "Oh, so it's not weird that Scott hasn't been around since the night of the party and that you're sneaking out at night all the time?" You asked. "I don't sneak out." He dismissed you and you raised an eyebrow. "You realise that I'm up late into the night on most nights because he is awake at night right? You know that I can hear your crappy Jeep leaving every night right? And you know that I see you sneak your way back in pretending that you haven't been up all night right?" You asked and he rolled his eyes. "It's nothing don't worry about it." Stiles waved you off but before you could say anything else your phone rang. "Hello." You answered as you narrowed your eyes at your brother making a quick get away. "Hey, you said that you were back in Beacon Hills right?" Derek asked. "Hello to you too Derek." You rolled your eyes frowning when you heard your brother fall over something rushing out of the kitchen to make sure that he was okay. "Are you alright Stiles?" "Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I'm gonna be late for school see you later." he waved before heading out of the house. "Did you say, Stiles?" Derek asked. "Hm oh yeah, that's my little brother." You explained as you turned back to the kitchen balancing your phone between your shoulder and ear picking up Caelan and heading into the living room. "That's your brother?" He asked. "You know him?" You asked. "Are you the reason that he's acting weird?" "Maybe," Derek answered. "Are you going to explain that?" You asked. "Him and his friend Scott think that I killed my sister." He answered. "Why do they even care?" You asked. "Scott is a werewolf, they don't know who to trust but they're going to get themselves hurt," Derek muttered. "So tell them you didn't kill her." You suggested as you put Caelan on the floor in the middle of all of his toys. "You don't think I tried that?" He asked, his voice slightly raised as he became more frustrated with everything that was going on. "Well okay then, I won't suggest ways to fix your problems, I'll stay quiet next time." You muttered deciding that you were done talking to him for a while, you hung up the phone.

Later that evening you got a text from Derek apologising for the way that he talked to you and explained that while he was dealing with the hunters he didn't want to come to see Caelan in case they were following him and you agreed with him, however, one night you were in your old bedroom, Caelan was asleep and you were doing some work that you were going to send into work since you had arranged to work from home in order to look after Caelan when he was born. Your bedroom door was pushed open while you were working and you didn't look up straight away but the clumsy way that the person entered gave you a good indication of who it was and the way that he stumbled made you think that he was expecting you to be asleep. "Were you expecting me to be asleep?" You asked as you glanced over at your brother who had frozen by the door. "Why would I come in here if I thought that you were sleeping?" He asked. "To check my phone." You answered and he frowned. "What are you talking about?" He asked. "You could just ask me how I know Derek." You suggested and you saw his hand tighten around the doorknob before he looked at you again. "I'm not going to lie to you." "He's Caelan's Dad isn't he?" Stiles asked. "Yeah." You nodded. "We've known each other since we were in school but I got pregnant when I was in college after his family died. I don't know if he remembers me from school but we met again afterwards." "He's dangerous." Stiles finally said. "Because he killed his sister?" You asked as you put your work aside and gestured for him to come in and sit down. "You don't think he did?" He asked. "I know that he didn't." You answered, "because he never lied to me, he told me everything about him and his family when Caelan was 1 mostly because of the genetics of everything." "What are you talking about?" Stiles asked. "Stiles don't pretend that you don't know." Stiles "there is no way that Scott didn't tell you that he was a werewolf." "How do you know that!?" He asked. "Because Derek tells me everything." You explained. "So how about you tell me everything and we can try and get this figured out.

*Part 2* (Coming Soon)

Requests and general question!

[miamiuh]

𝘠'𝘈𝘓𝘓!

so i just finished watching spy x family & i wanted to give my first impressions!

first of all, let me just say that this anime was one of the most wholesome shows i've seen. so many cute moments that had my heart jumping out my chest

now let's get on to my thoughts on a few of the characters...

ャ agent twilight/loid forger

• what an absolute dilf

• yor is crazy for not tonguing him down the minute she got a chance to, because if it were me.... BABYYYYY

• but on another note, for someone who doesn't/didn't aspire to have a family, he sure does make a damn good father/husband

• the way he tries his best to encourage anya & reassure yor, & how he corrects his parenting mistakes with anya >>>>>

• love a man that can actually acknowledge his mistakes & actively tries to correct them

• the man we truly all deserve, even if he's just pretending (he's still being sincere lol)

• obviously is getting attached to anya & yor, will eventually have to find a balance between being a spy & maintaining his "family", or will have to choose one or the other

• needs to learn how to say no, those side missions have him so exhausted

• really hope he doesn't end up hurting anya & yor (especially anya since she's grown to love him so much) once his mission is over

ャ yor forger/briar

• she's so pretty like are u fucking kidding me

• her co-workers are a bunch of hating ass bitches

• she better than me because i would have offed that blonde chick with the quickness for disrespecting me

• everyone who was on her ass for not having a boyfriend/husband at the age of 27 deserves the worst

• like she's still young asf smh they need to mind their business

• i love how much she cares for anya, she grew attached to her fairly quickly

• she needs to check her brother for acting like a weirdo

• like i understand you raised him & you love him but that behavior isn't normal sis

• she doesn't know how to cook either, she just like me!

• i have a feeling she's gonna get contracted to assassinate loid & i don't like that. reminds me of mr. & mrs. smith kinda lol

ャ anya forger

• such a cutie pie

• just wants to have a family & wants to be loved :(

• best believe if i had her powers i'd be reading people's minds 24/7 just to find out if their fake af lol

ャ damian desmond & his weird looking minions

• damian is a little annoying brat

• but fr why his friends look like that? they're parents must be cousins

ャ yuri briar

• he's cute, but batshit fucking crazy

• he's just strange like why are you acting like that over your sister

• like i understand being protective considering she's your only sister & she raised you, but you're doing entirely too much, stink

• he definitely has some weird incestuous feelings for yor, she gotta do something about him & she needs to do it QUICK before it gets out of hand

obviously there are more characters in the show, but it's late & i have work tomorrow morning so i'll stop here for now. but before i go, i have one last thing...

JEAN KIRCHSTEIN, IS THAT YOU??????

guess he left paradis & started a new life lmfao

[milliedazzledust]

Somewhere Only We Know (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @the-craziestone story about Bucky x Reader, where Bucky is really obsessed with Reader - But not in a creepy way, more like he's really really in love with her and he can only see her, like she's his world Anon: can you do something with reader gifting Bucky Barnes the 3 Lord of the Rings books? They were published after WWII, and reader knows he liked The Hobbit so she thinks it's something he'd like

Words: 2943

A/N: this is pure fluff with no warning, also I changed a tiny bit the second request to fit the story - enjoy ;)

He couldn’t explain the sadness he constantly felt every time he was walking through the streets of the city he used to know by heart. A stranger in a strange land was the best way to describe him. More than seventy years had passed, and he hadn’t witnessed any changes. While he had been a puppet deprived of freewill and controlled with the sole purpose of killing, he had missed the birth of a whole new world. Now, as he strode around the streets, he could easily remember each of their names, but none of them were familiar. His mind remained in the 1940’s and in the middle of the noises, surrounded by the sound of first responders vehicles, the children running around and cars piling up on the road, he was a stranger in his own home. It was an unsettling feeling, a pining melancholy that reminded him in every step he made that his Brooklyn didn’t exist anymore. 

He was furious in a way, but mostly confused. Haunted by memories he had gotten back a second ago, and they didn’t fit this new reality. He wasn’t even nostalgic, but the loneliness was getting heavier every day. He could still picture the park he used to take his sister, the alley where Steve had gotten beaten up one day, the bakery his mother used to go to every morning. Treasure of souvenirs he would keep forever. And although the park, the alley and the streets names were still here, he was left alone walking down Brooklyn. 

“Hey, Y/N!” He heard a voice shouting. “Where do I put those ?” 

His head mechanically turned to a young boy carrying a heavy box of what looked like antics. Without thinking he crossed the road and when his eyes laid on the small shop, he gasped. There it was, one small piece of his past still here. It was an old bookstore he used to go to with his sister. The man, a friend, an immigrant from France with a thick accent, would let them stay for hours. Bucky loved reading to Rebecca. They would sit inside and she’d insist to hear The Hobbit. François, the man owning the store, would make coffee and stay with them, relating the stories he had heard around the world, telling them all about the France he had known. It was all still here. ‘Au Nom de la Rose’ was still here. 

He didn’t hesitate a second and rushed inside the place, an honest smile on his face. His eyes roamed over the room and he took a deep breath. It was just like he remembered, a place filled with murmurs and whispers floating above his head and through the roof, indistinct conversations between friends, huge windows bringing in a powerful light at this hour of the day, plants in almost every corner. Even the atmosphere was the same, this powerful smell of imagination coming from the laying books on the shelves, begging to be read, mixing with a distinct smell coming from the dust. The small couch and the old table he used to sit by with his sister were also there. The wooden pieces had many rough and sharp edges but looked just as smooth and clean as he remembered. Finally, his eyes landed on a woman there. He watched her rearranging a bouquet of daffodils, breathing in the perfume of the vibrant flowers as she tended to them meticulously. 

For some reason, he couldn’t look away. She felt familiar, like he had known her all his life, yet he had never seen her before. When she turned around he took an instinctive step toward her. She noticed, raised her head and that was the moment their eyes met. His breath caught in his throat when she smiled at him. He stood, frozen on the spot, staring at her. He couldn’t comprehend that instant connection. There was an inexplicable sense of excitement yet weird feeling that they had known each other forever, that they were meeting each other again after a long journey. He was transfixed, almost stuck by the confusing mixture of emotions but oddly comforted by them - all at the same time. 

“Can I help you ?” She asked him.

He surprised himself thinking there was something eerily calming about her voice, that he could listen to her for hours.

“Do I know you ?” He quickly wondered out loud, mentally facepalming himself for his lack of tact. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking that question ?”

“Why ?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes” She grinned.

“I’m … I’m sorry” He apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean to…” 

“Look weird ?” 

He could swear his heart skipped a beat when he heard her laugh.

“This place is beautiful”

“Thank you” 

“How long have you been working here ?”

“Forever” She smirked. “The store belongs to my family. Passed on from generation to generation” 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“You’re related to François Y/L/N ?” He questioned.

She tilted her head, crossing her arms.

“Now I’m intrigued” She told him. “How do you know about my grandfather ?” 

“We’ve met,” He answered without thinking. He rapidly realized his mistake when she narrowed her eyes in utter curiosity. “I … I didn’t mean … I mean … It was … It was a long time ago”

He gulped, hoping she wouldn’t push it. She looked him up and down, assessing him. 

“What’s your name, weirdo ?” She inquired, giving him a skeptical glance.

“Bucky. M’am” 

She smirked.

“Let me guess, a soldier ?” 

“How … ?” 

“You all have the same manners, and the same eyes”

“What do you mean ?”

She was now standing in front of him, staring at his face with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

“You carry the same sadness and the horror you’ve seen” She replied honestly. “My father was a lot like that too” 

Her answer had the effect of a punch in the gut he hadn’t been expecting. He felt naked under her gaze, a stranger with the power to see through his soul.

“I’m Y/N” She introduced herself, raising her hand to shake his.

It was rare for him to smile truthfully but the unexpected bliss slowly growing made his lips twitch before he could even acknowledge it.

“Hi, Y/N” He greeted her.

She chuckled, amused. 

“Hi, Bucky” She murmured. 

After that encounter, he made a point of coming back as much as he could. He stayed for hours sitting on the couch, reading the same book over and over again. They shared quick words but he didn’t dare to start up a conversation, too afraid he would say something he shouldn’t, something that would scare her away. He was content like this. There was no Winter Soldier, no war, no fight, no one else than Bucky. Being next to this girl was in itself a medication for him. It made no sense but she was so bright and radiant. Like a magnet, he was sucked into an invisible gravitational pull toward her.

By the second week of him coming into the store, she started to notice the small marks of attention. He would come so silently she wouldn’t hear a thing, bringing a fresh cup of coffee he would lay on her counter when she wasn’t looking, replacing the daffodils before they could fade, carrying the heavy boxes filled with new books. When she wasn’t working, she would grab something to read and sit next to him. They would exchange a smile but wouldn’t talk. The proximity was enough. Their presence was louder than any word. A quiet routine they were slowly creating. 

By the fourth month, nothing had changed and that day was no different. Rain was pouring outside and the store was empty, except for Y/N and Bucky. Just as usual, he was reading in a corner while she was working. New stacks of books had arrived and she was methodically putting them on the shelves. Standing on a ladder, on the tip of her toes, she was so focused on the task she had failed to notice the soldier walking up to her. 

“Do you need any help ?” He offered. 

Surprised to hear his voice so close to her, she lost her balance and slipped. She yelped as her ankle hit one side of the ladder and automatically closed her eyes, anticipating the fall. She tried to brace herself but before her body could touch the ground she felt something cold holding her waist. Suddenly, instead of laying on the floor, she was against his hard chest, in a protective embrace. She recognized his arms around her and shivered at the odd coldness. He  felt it immediately and was quick to put some distance between them, making sure his metal arm was no more on her body and only his human hand was steadying her. 

“Are you alright ?” He questioned. She pursed her lips, trying not to show that she was hurt when she heard how worried he sounded. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine”

He looked skeptic but didn’t say anything about it.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologetically told her.

He took the books scattered on the ground, putting them away, and helped her walk to the couch.

“You know, if the goal was to literally make me fall for you, I’d say you did a pretty good job there” She flirted, making him chuckle. 

He sat on the table in front of her and grabbed her calve, gently laying her leg on his thigh to assess the damage. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her blushing. It made him insanely happy to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their closeness. They tried not to look at one another, too embarrassed by the situation. This was the closest they had ever been and the touch on his skin on hers was more than enough to make her heart ready to jump out of her chest. When he clasped her injured ankle, she cried and instinctively pushed him back. 

“Fine, huh ?” He repeated her own words with a smirk.

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

“It’s not a big deal, Bucky” She reassured him. “I’ve got to get back to work”

“You’re not moving from this couch” He ordered.

“Is that an order, soldier ?” She ironically threw at him, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“You bet it is”

She watched him, intrigued, as he stood up and piled up some books on the table to put her ankle to rest on it. 

“No moving around, got it ?” He made sure she would follow his advice.

“Aye, aye, Captain”

He chuckled 

“Technically speaking, I’m not a Captain” He confessed as he continued what she had been doing earlier and started putting the books carefully on the right shelves. 

“Would you have preferred Sergeant ?” She replied, bitting her lips, unsure this was the wrong moment to admit she knew who he was.

He instantly stopped what he was doing and slowly turned around to stare at her.

“What did you say ?” He asked, more scared than ever.

Up until that moment, he had avoided telling her who he was. Becoming part of the Avengers meant his identity wasn’t a secret anymore, and although he had done a terrific job staying hidden among the mass of people, it wouldn’t have taken more than a little push to find who he really was. He stood in front of her, frozen, not having a clue how to react.

“Sergeant Barnes, isn’t it ?” She sounded nervous, almost frightened to say his name out loud.

“I… “ He tried to say anything, but as the rain kept pouring outside, slowly turning into a thunderstorm, he blankly stared back.

“Would you have told me ?” She whispered.

“Eventually”

She humorlessly snorted. 

“We’ve known each other for more than three months, Bucky. I see you practically every day. Be honest, eventually would’ve never come” 

“It’s not like that” He tried to explain.

“I’m not mad, don’t worry” She sadly smiled. “I just wish… I guess I wish you could’ve trust me” 

He rubbed his jaw in frustration and made a step toward her. Without breaking his gaze, he slowly took the glove off, revealing his metal hand. Still, he didn’t look at her, too afraid of her reaction. The cold metal had never felt so hot against his skin, a burning reminder of the stranger he had become.

“I didn’t want you to be scared,” He admitted in a broken voice. 

“Of you ?” She was surprised. “Why would I be ?”

“I’m not a good man, Y/N”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that ?” 

“You don’t understand…”

“The red box under the counter” She interrupted him. “Can you take it for me ? And turn the sign of the shop, we’re closed.”

He gave her a puzzled look, but did as she said anyway. He locked the front door and took the box she asked for before walking to her and putting it directly in her hands.

“Sit” She instructed him.

He didn’t dare to stay near her and chose to stay on an opposite chair.

“I found this a little after you and I met” She told him, motioning to the box. “It was in the basement, hidden under old junks my parents had kept over the years”

He let her speak, not understanding where this was going or why she was telling him about that. She slowly opened the mystery box and took a small envelope out of it. It looked old, so old the paper had turned into a deep shade of yellow.

“My grandfather wrote this” She confessed. “In 1957. It’s addressed to Bucky and Rebecca Barnes. I believe it belongs to you” 

She handed him the letter that he took with shaky hands.

“How did you… ?” He started to ask.

“It was a long shot,” She explained. “The first time you were here, you said my grandfather's name like it meant something to you. Like you really knew him. When I found the box, and the envelope, I didn’t make the connection with you right away. But your name was all I needed to start my research. My parents kept pretty much everything so it didn’t took me too long to find an old photo with you and him, back in the 1930′s” 

He wasn’t moving at all when she showed him a picture François had taken of them right before he was enlisted. 

“I wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, I guess. I mean, you have enough ghosts as it is”

“Still not scared ?” He inquired in a humorless chuckle.

“Not one bit” She didn’t hesitate to reply.

She softly smiled and motioned for him to come closer. When he sat next to her, she moved the box from her lap to his. 

“We were friends, François and I” He recalled, his eyes glued on the letter. “He was married to Eloise. This bookstore was their treasure. He kept repeating that I shouldn’t go to war when I could stay hidden under the pages of books that would take me around the world without risking my life”

She took his metal palm between her fingers when she heard his voice breaking. He almost tried to remove it but she tightly entwined their hands together.

“Maybe he was right” He muttered under his breath.

“Or maybe you and I were meant to meet almost a century later” She shrugged.

He snorted before turning around the envelope to open it. Y/N gently laid her head against his shoulder and let him read in silence. She didn’t move when she felt his body shaking with tears but only held his hand harder.

“They’re originals, from 1954 I think. He kept them for you” She told him as he slowly took what was in the red box. A set of three old books. “Why Lord of the Rings, though ?” 

He laughed,sniffing, before brushing the tears off his face and staring down at the woman. At that very moment, he felt like the journey was done. His soul had stopped the search it had been on for a time that felt like forever. Like a century. 

“My sister and I, we used to come here often,” He said in a melancholic grin. Sorrow was finally starting to be replace by something much better, happiness. “We would sit on this very couch and she would make me read the Hobbit. She used to love that story so much.”

“How many times has she make you read it ?” The woman smirked.

“Enough to remember every single word” He exaggerated, making her giggle. “When I told François I was leaving, he said he would send me books to help me travel away from the war, even just for a moment. I guess he kept them, hoping I would come back. Even after I was declared dead” 

“Maybe deep down he knew you weren’t”

“And he planned this whole meeting with his granddaughter ?” He ironically added.

“Oh no, that was beyond him. That was fate, Barnes”

“I was meant to find you” He agreed, a deep feeling of love and utter contentment forming in his heart. He bent his head down and let all he needed to say be spoken through the kiss they shared. 

“Will you read it to me ?” She playfully requested.

Overflowed with joy, he smirked and kissed her forehead before opening the old book on his lap. There it was, the only choice he needed to make. The only home he had yearn to create. Her. 

[boltcuttersfetched-archive]

Man okay I love love love your writing and if I may send a prompt either Steddie helping Dustin after he falls off Max’s skateboard and breaks his arm or the three of them talking about their absent fathers >.<

thank you so much!! 🥺 i can absolutely do the first one, especially bc i had a similar idea going for some cupids! he would totally try to use his sister's board and wipe tf out. this takes place about 2 years before the story starts! i was originally going to make it a missing scene but i'm still getting the timeline figured out.

Steve would've thought that at the age of ten, his kids would be responsible enough to exist outside without adult supervision. If they were smart enough for fifth grade math and to make snide comments about his casserole at the dinner table last night--which still stung, by the way--surely they could be unleashed upon the neighborhood without doing anything outrageously stupid.

Steve also thought it was safe to open a condom wrapper with his teeth once upon a time, and Dustin and Max had definitely fallen from his tree. Which made them genetically predisposed to having really bad ideas.

The crack came first. A loud, wet snap, like someone grabbed a stalk of freshly washed celery and broke it over their knee. It was the kind of sound that flipped a primal switch in his brain stem--like a caveman hearing something rustle in the bushes. He dropped the remote and booked it to the driveway, leaving the Indiana Pacers to get their asses kicked without an audience.

The scream came shortly after.

Steve scanned the yard with frantic eyes, searching for the source of the sickening cry and soft whimpers that had his skin erupting into goosebumps and raised hackles. The twins sat huddled at the edge of the driveway, Dustin's bike and Max's skateboard laying abandoned on the asphalt.

Dustin was holding his arm at a weird angle.

He was crying.

Shit, fuck, shit-fuck, shitting-fucking motherfucker. Steve jogged down the front steps, nearly tangling his feet and falling head over New Balances.

"What the Hell happened?!" The hard pavement sent an ache echoing through his knees as he dropped down a little faster than planned. He took one of Dustin's chubby little cheeks in hand, rubbing away a trail of hot tears with his thumb. "Hey, hey," he shushed, "What happened, huh?"

The other hand patted frantically around Dustin's head--over his crown, his temples. Steve could practically trace the places where his skull plates fused together by memory. By the grace of God, Dustin's perfect, fragile little melon seemed to have made it through unscathed.

"It was an accident!" Dustin blubbered, panting through the onslaught of tears, snot, and pained whines. Yeah, no shit it was an accident. Nobody wiped out and fucked their arm three ways to Hell on purpose.

Max sat behind him, brow furrowed and jaw clenched, rubbing her brother's shoulder softly. The color had drained from her face completely, and even her hair looked a little pale. "I told you it was stupid." Steve followed her eyes as they flickered to the fallen bike. There was a weathered jump rope tied just below the handlebars--and yeah, that was pretty stupid.

Dustin shot her a weak, watery glare. "It was your idea too!"

Steve held up a hand between them, cutting off the argument before it could start. "I don't care whose idea it was," he said, knowing it was probably both of them anyway, "I'm not mad--just..." He shifted on his knees and looked down at Dustin's cradled arm. "Show me."

Dustin squeezed his eyes shut and gingerly moved his good hand away. Even Max gasped. "Is it bad?" he whined, "Son of a bitch, Max--is it bad?!" And normally Steve would try to correct him, but the kid had just turned his arm into a crazy straw. He could use a swear word or two, as a treat.

"It's not"--Max swallowed hard-- "Bad...?"

It was fucking gnarly.

"Okay." Steve let out a long breath, hoping it would expel the heavy, twisted queasiness growing like wet vines in his stomach. "Okay...Max, just go inside and grab the keys." She didn't need to be told twice. Steve rubbed Dustin's back softly. "Let's get you up, come on."

After some trial and error, he finally managed to get Dustin on his feet and eventually in the car. It wasn't his scariest drive to Hawkins General, but it definitely wasn't a good one. The twins sat in guilty silence in the back seat, unable to even make eye contact. But as Dustin pressed his teary face to the cool window, Max put her hand on his knee.

The break wasn't as bad as it looked. Obviously it was still bad, Steve's kid broke his fucking arm--but it was what the ER called a simple fracture. One clean, easy-to-fix snap of the radius. No torn skin or muscle, no floating bone fragments. They wrapped Dustin's arm in a neon orange cast, and pretty much made his fucking year when they wrote a note excusing him from gym class for the next six to eight weeks.

Steve took them to Benny's for burgers, and even let Dustin order a chocolate milkshake because he felt so damn bad for him. ("It's good," he said after a few seconds of careful thought and exaggerated lip-smacking, "But your milkshakes are better.") Max picked at her dinner, uninterested in eating or talking. Steve half-expected her to check out the second Dustin hit the ground; the loud roar of a passing bus was enough to get her glassy-eyed and absent. But she'd managed to stay present and engaged. This wasn't about her, but Steve was still damn happy to see it.

He got Dustin situated in bed, all propped up with his cast covered in ice packs.

"This feels familiar," he said, picking up Dustin's Chewbacca and tucking it under his good arm, "Did we just do this? I feel like we just did this. Oh, yeah." He stuck out his finger and poked Dustin's chin. "These." He'd gotten his baby teeth yanked out in June, and spent a month and a half eating chocolate pudding and mashed potatoes. "Jesus, kid. You think you can go six months without needing urgent medical attention?"

Dustin grinned, and then leaned forward and bit down on Steve's finger with his gums.

[ginwhitlock]

summary: human!JASPER/ human!BELLA. Bella is called to deliver day supplies to a very tired and mostly lost 1st Regiment Calvary, headed by no other than Major Jasper Whitlock. What will the two do once left alone to go over maps of the Tennessee hills?

fic type: oneshot, SMUT 18+

warnings: is set in the civil war, which means Jasper is a soldier in the confederacy literally only because he’s from Texas I promise, it would’ve been weird to make him union and apart of the Texas Calvary as that wasnt a union regiment, I do not support the confederacy or any of its beliefs, its just part of his backstory and this fic is centered directly in his human life (the confederacy itself is not mentioned in detail, it is just alluded to the fact). This is a smut fic but not hardcore in anyway so be warned. Oh also I made Bella and Emmett siblings. Of course. 

She almost broke his nose kissing him.

She almost shattered bone and cartilage clicking their teeth together, enamel scraping enamel.

She almost caved in the center of his face so she could lick the insides of his molars, separate his jaws to find the pit of his throat, dangle her self righteousness by his uvula.

And to think she almost didn’t go out that morning.

Isabella Marie was the kind of pretty you didn’t see right away. The layers of fine muscle and fragile skin hiding the richness of her blood-red cheeks, crisp even in the horrible heat of August. And with that heat came hot headed Calvary men with unlined coat pockets and a hunger for pretty little girls.

She met Major Whitlock three miles outside of town, the local preacher sending her out to their camp with as many baskets as her daddy’s two mules could hold on their hips. She was flushed, the slot of her breastbone slick with afternoon sweat— her riding boots did nothing but slosh around with her pale feet inside, leather no match for Tennessee mountain hidin weather.

Maybe she should’ve dropped ice down her shift. Maybe she should’ve played dead and waited for God to put her on her ass.

The thin brunette was graced with the presence of an even skinner red head the moment Stubborn Ass’s (as she affectionally called her steed in private) hooves entered the temporary camp. The mans hair fell limply in front of his eyes which were slightly sunken, the blue of his irises molting into a starved shade of dust. His lips were worse. Once pink and slightly plump, now skinny and cracked with the less than dusty air.

“Is this the 1st Regiment Calvary? From Texas?” Her voice was strained and feverish, salt dripping off her Cupid’s bow.

The man nodded and offered a hand, “Names Sargent Henry Arquette. Nice to see you Miss, the boys haven’t been able to get any supplies up here for days,” Bella grasped his hand tightly, afraid her unskilled balance would come into play, and forced her weight down to the ground ungracefully, “you’re the sheriffs daughter, right miss?” His smile seemed correct handing off his skinny face, his teeth crooked and off centered, but sweet. She quirked her lip in return.

“Yes Sargent, I seem to be your supply wagon today. There’s more back in town but I was told you wouldn’t be in for a day or so.” Flushed and overdressed, that’s how she felt. Every second.

Henry took in the view of the well fed half breeds and gestured off handedly, something she would come to learn was an action he didn’t even notice he performed. “Day. Days. Who knows until we ration it. These trails are less trails and more raccoon paths. I’m just waiting to see why the hell we’ve been sent so far east to begin with.” He had no recognition what was proper to say in front of the young lady at his side, the year had been sucked dry of any feminine… life, to say lightly. A piece of his brain nudged him for speaking so plainly, but Bella never once looked offended and twitched her head in both sympathy and understanding. She had been raised in these hills. She knew their damnation like the back of her hand. Maybe even the back of her skull.

“I’ve heard about raids up in McMinnville. Bases and such lining up and down the mountain. My brother’s part of the 16th Regiment Calvary up there actually, you know. Things are heating up in our little slice of the world.” The little thing spoke like a sparrow, her nose pointed and soft, the bottom of her front teeth pillowing into her bottom lip. At the age of seventeen she seemed somehow both grounded and unsure.

The south was ripping itself apart. And she— and the Sargent, knew it.

Bella could see the redhead start to comment on her brothers hand me down gossip when a giant of a man— boy? Man? Definitely man, by the looks of his muscled shoulders and high jaw, the darkened cast shifting just under the skin of his cheeks, the low dip of a scar just below his brow— a brow which furrowed, twisted, and arched back up into his tanned forehead when he noticed the mules waiting restlessly, tails swinging behind a girl in a kinder man's idea of a dress and interrupted the lower soldiers train of thought.

“You must be Miss Isabella McCarty. I spoke to your father when we arrived last night.” Clipped and forward were his words, his hand outstretched in front of him, decorated in mis-matched freckles and calluses she could feel pressing into the column of her throat as she placed her small palm in his. “Major Jasper Whitlock, at your assistance.”

No smile graced his face but by God she would witness his lips stretch over his teeth if it was the last thing she ever did.

Still with her hand in his she whispered “You can call me Bella. Or Bella Marie. Or Isabella Marie oh or my mother calls me Belle or sometimes when my father is upset with me he calls me Marie McCarty like my grandmother used to and um..” her tongue had to have swelled to the size of a watermelon in the three seconds it took to look him in the eyes— the swamp green eyes in fact. Eyes the color of duckweed and marigold stems and whatever leaves would stick to the blackberries in the spring.

He laughed. And it sounded like a white flag waving in her insides. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Maybe the preacher was a righteous man after all.

“I like Isabella Marie. Miss Isabella Marie.” Like rain drops on a tin ceiling.

The Arquette boy looked between the two before edging towards the black mules “Any orders where to put these, Major?” Skinny lips. Skinny spine.

Jasper had finally looked up from the strawberry cheeked girl in front of him, released their hands, and knocked his head backwards, towards the other soldiers checking tents and cleaning their own horses.

“Just take em back to the storage tent. Not like it’ll be competing for space.” The Major looked back at his men “Calhoun, Jennings, help Arquette move these rations will you? Make yourself useful for once.” His voice didn’t have to boom and condense like a rung out air horn, the cool of his vocal cords carried and personally plucked the not yet men from their activities and dragged them towards the group of three. Like some sort of magic act.

Bella was far from resigned. “So Major Whitlock, what would you like me to do?” Hopeful eyes, always searching to please. Or to piss off— as Emmett always scorned.

An upturn of lips flashed through Jaspers face and he looked to the sky for a mere moment “Mind helping me sort out some of my maps back in camp? My backwoods knowledge ain’t as sharp as my Houston kind and you seem like an expert in this area, getting yourself up to us all alone.” Bella’s feet started to move on instinct towards the felted wool tent covering a hundred or so feet behind the large man, but his hand stopped her at the shoulder, “And, if you don’t mind, would you be my guide back to town this evening? I’ve got to scout the path for the boys to pull through by the end of this week.”

She should’ve thought longer about it, linger over his words, the way his tongue flicked over his canines and brushed noticeably at the edge of his front teeth. But she didn’t. Not now. Not when the time it would’ve taken could pick at the carefully constructed wall built specifically for boys with serpent tongues. And lion hands. And bear teeth and… he still waiting for her response.

A shake to her head “Of course Major. If you’ll help me bring the mules back home, you’d be more help to me than I think I’d ever be to you.”

He could taste her self doubt. And he didn’t like it.

A jut of his brow led them through the ragged campsite, broken down cinders coating the bottom of her unusually worn boots, the lace of her dress clashing horribly with the scent of charred flesh and resting wounds. If only she knew a doctor. If only the town still had one.

His tent was one of the stronger ones, every inch placated with the spine of a book or a map binder or a drape of letters. He needed a desk and a real bed and maybe someone to make sure he stayed warm during the mountain nights.

Jaspers hands found a tiny stack of drawn maps and laid them over his now folded lap on the ground. Bella swiftly found her place at his bended knee and ran a finger over the torn edge. “These look older than my father. It doesn’t even mark the trail you follow to town.” The squishy flesh of her thumb traced an invisible oil line through the mountain and deposited itself in a town with seemingly no name, according to the parchment. “That’s home. If you’re following these maps I don’t quite understand how you ever got here.” Her eyes were full, engorged on road markers and faded city names.

Jasper softly nodded, their heads just inches from each other as she leaned in to scour the map. He had barely gotten to the camp they were in, his right hand Henry doing nearly all of the sight work. He’d be a hell of a tracker if he was a bloodhound. The blond almost chucked at the thought of Henry with big floppy mutt ears, yelping at the pretty girl almost in Jasper’s lap.

Her hair was like a chocolate waterfall. The good chocolate that mama got sent to her from her sister up north, the kind that was broken off continuously, piece after piece fed to him and his sisters until nothing was left.

Part of him wanted to see if she tasted as sweet.

He’d blame it on how damn long it’s been since he’s smelled anything other than soured sores and gunpowder. Even if Miss Isabella Marie smelled good enough to eat. Good enough to take like a man starved. And God— Jasper hungered like no other.

“There’s a river through the valley here, if you can find yourself through the woods.” Bella had found a piece of graphite and drawn in the harsh line of a hidden waterway just a mile or so from camp. She looked up at him as she spoke, her eyes warmly whiskey colored through her lashes.

His mouth clenched. “How old are you Miss McCarty?”

She blinked rapidly, like coming out of a daze. “Seventeen.”

Her hand dropped the instrument to the paper and draw up to his knee, the covered bone sharp under her knuckles.

“Do you have a boy at home waiting for you, Miss McCarty?” Hot air blew from his mouth to hers like a heatwave. Like a curse.

Bella’s lips formed a small “No” as she slid her small hand up the Major’s thigh, her singular ring gliding like margarine inch my inch as the seconds ticked by, each breath marking the two closer.

“Do you have a wife, Major?” Only whisper escaped her rosebud mouth, his face turning downwards, noses only separated by spirit.

“I was too busy waiting for you, it seems, Miss Bella.”

Her heart thumped her chest hard enough to make her ears ring.

Bella’s fist jumped from Jasper’s thigh to his army issued button up and crushed his chest to her own, her lips finding purchase slotted against his, the force clinking their front teeth together without care. His hands were gripping the roots of her soft waves, their skulls as close as their skin would let them. She wanted more, more, the heat suffocating the tent from more than the August sun. Her thin fingers slipped easily through the button gaps as his tongue invaded the privacy of her mouth. A horrible demented part of her brain screamed ‘Take, Take, Take. Mark me down and climb into the spaces that were meant to fit just us.’ Her brother had always called her too much of a dreamer. Too much of a poet and a believer and an artist. But God. This man was in her hands and she felt like a masterpiece.

A man she hardly knew.

But somehow, the scrape of his knuckles against her soon to be bare thighs felt like they had known each other at birth. Like Texas and Tennessee were just minutes from each other. As if they were the only bodies in the whole entire war.

Jasper’s hands were of no gentleman’s when he unfastened the ribbons holding her skirt to her waist, the under coat used for riding coming off like silk in his calloused palms. She was moaning into his mouth, the world outside the tent becoming buttery soft and not to be worried about. All there was was Jasper and his fucking mouth moving to her neck and his teeth toying around her jaw.

“Jesus, Major” He chuckled at her swear and rid her completely of every layer but her shift and the wool of her stockings, the small corset she wore becoming just cannon fodder for the mouth and hands of the Cavalryman.

“I love when you call me that, darlin. Wanna hear you scream it.” She had barely gotten open a single button on his shirt before he brushed the maps out of the way and flipped her on her back underneath him, the sway of his curled mane teasing her, the golden wheat just barely out of the reach of her teeth or fingers.

She wanted to use it like reins.

She’d especially like calling him by his rank then.

“You know I—“ her breathing caught the better of her as he lifted her by her thighs and dragged her ass to his kneeled position, his fingers running up her stockings with particular care, each inch another layer to her growing wetness. She didn’t let go of her breath until he had reached the skirting of her underdress, the white cotton nearly see through with the sweat sticking to every inch of her skin. His watery eyes devoured the sight with an indescribable hunger. Like a wolf hanging over a bleeding lamb.

What a happy sacrifice she’d be.

“Are you a good little southern girl, Isabella?” His fingertips brushed just under the fabric, his intent not easily hidden behind his hardened brow.

She came out trembling, she couldn’t tell over excitement or fear. “Yes Sir. No ones ever…” even her mother would blush saying those words.

Jasper finally smiled, sharp and soul quenching, like a mist of rain before a hurricane.

“I’m going to ruin you.” He couldn’t tell her about the wedding playing out behind his eyes or the static electric resonance he felt thinking about how another man would never get to lay a hand on his pretty Isabella.

His fingers slipped over her cunt, the soft curling hair tickling his fingertips. The moist warmth wet his fingers before skirting over her lips. He almost groaned. She was soaked. He had to see what his little Belle looked like in the light.

Jasper’s eyes met Bella’s giant blown out doe ones, her elbows holding up her upper body, trying to anticipate his very next move.

If they were playing chess, he was going to win. And she had always been a sore loser.

The skirt of the shift creased with the heat of his palms against her stomach, the slightly cooler air blowing across her pussy, making Bella suck in a breath through her teeth, her bottom lip becoming stuck under them with practiced strength.

Her knees knocked against Jasper’s hips as he watched the pink of her pussy clench around nothing, her wet little hole puckering and buzzing with the want of something under his trousers. He licked his lips as he had a gathered two fingers at her slit and traced upwards, her breath coming out in pants as he reached her clit, the engorged nub nearly ringing in her ears. A small circle over it make her moan from her throat. Bella had never felt someone else’s touch, she had never realized how much she wanted for it. She never knew how much she wanted Jasper to touch her.

The solider took his time as he brought the pads of his fingers back down to her achingly small hole and gathered some of her slick, the smell of sweat and Bella nearly driving him half insane as he brought a finger to his mouth, his tongue licking her clean off.

If Bella could speak to God directly and have him reply, she’d thank him for the creation of Major Jasper Whitlock.

But all she could do was cry out for more. And more he silently promised to give.

Maybe too much.

He had to stretch her out, the head of his cock wouldn’t fit into her without an orgasm in her, not now at least. Jasper slowly brought his hand back a third time and entered a single finger, her hips nearly bucking against his wrist as he slowly sat himself. A bead of sweat ran off his brow. A second finger partnered with the first after a few pumps, in and out, in and out. The near wetness coated on those fingers alone could bring him to release in his cot. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Isabella I have to—“ “Please Major I need—“

The two looked at each other, their mouths in sync as they sat, their souls intertwining and bundling up into a bramble of wonderful thorns, coy smiles gracing both their faces.

Bella sat up slowly and draped a hand over Jasper’s belt buckle. “May I, Major?” The shorty craftsmanship of the iron buckle became putty under her unskilled hands as he nodded, now without words for the angel in front of him. The belt was off before the two noticed and Jasper brought his issued pants down to his ankles and off with his shoes to rest with the scraps of her dress he had taken off so quickly.

“Do you… always go bare?” The squeak of Bella’s voice made Jasper snicker like the teenage boy he technically still was, the nineteen year old clicking his teeth together and grinning. “Miss McCarty, sometimes underpinnings only get in the way of an army man.” A deep blush settled into her cheeks as she slapped at his chest, his shirt hanging open just slightly as he pushed her back to the floor.

“Shush, Whitlock.”

His smile turned feral as the head of his cock graced the hood of her clit, bouncing just slightly with the breath of their bodies. Jasper marked in his head that this should be a sight to see on their wedding night, not their first night together, but by God was it a beautiful one.

He looked at her as he grasped one of her hips with his right hand and the base of his cock with his left. “Breathe, Belle. Breathe with me, alright?” She nodded her head slowly and brought her own hand to the tent floor, grasping tightly.

Jasper’s hand guided the head carefully over her lips and to her quivering entrance. One buck and he’d tear her to badly to bear. No matter how long it had been… he’d never rush with his Isabella. Not now.

He slowly pushed in, the stretch a burn like no other, Bella’s voice turning from a quick steal of breath to a long sigh, the air being pushed out as he took her in. Inch by inch she devoured him, the heat marking his cock in emotional third degree burns. The sky burned brighter, the colors in his eyes turned clearer. Her hips and her fragile skin and the slip of her cunt was the end of the world and the birth of something entirely new. She grasped his shoulders as he mumbled a slew of impressive praise as he allowed her to adjust and seated himself at the very base of her cervix. Her throat screamed out to him as her nails dug in his back.

A wonderful, wonderful burn.

Bella slipped a hand to Jasper’s hip to push him back, to set any and all pace so that the fire would keep burning. He quickly slotted his face in the clench of her neck and began to move his pale hips, beginning to push and pull within her very tight walls.

The tent was full of grunts and moans and breathy screams he was sure the entirely camp heard. But Jesus Christ he didn’t give a single damn at that very moment. His boys knew to stay out of his shit and they be proven that every second until his angel’s orgasm.

God he wanted to fill her up. Wanted to take all of his cum and bury it deep where the lord intended, leave her leaking and exhausted and full of everything he had. He’d empty his balls in her again and again if it meant the Tennessee flower in his arms would keep him forever.

He wanted her forever.

“Major, deeper, please God please yes YES.” Jasper’s hips were snapping at a rapid pace, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove her into the hard ground. He could feel her tighten up the way he felt the air change around him before a fight broke out, the way a horse steps on a snake without jumping. There was an electricity in the air and the moment Bella tore his head out from her and pulled him into a jaw crushing kiss, he was crumbling at her feet, her pussy clenching and spasming around his cock with enough force to take out a grizzly bear.

She locked her legs around his hips as he all but collapsed into her, his hair sweaty between her fingers as she combed through it as his dick twitched it’s last time inside her belly. Jasper’s own hands found repentance under her ass and stayed there, too tired to remove himself from her heat.

“That ride home is gonna be sweaty, isn’t it?” Her whisper made her snort and bite into the side of her neck as she giggled.

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 10 - Pudding & Champagne

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot​ @suzy-rainbow @miingxuxi​​​​

“What would it have been like, had she been the one in Kim Jang Won’s shoes instead?”

“What was that about?” Jang Won’s look of disapproval is the strongest on her face now than he has ever seen on her. “The Hell’s wrong with you? Have you not been to a check-up before? Were you mad you couldn’t go in with me? What?”

“We... can get you to another hospital for your check-ups, how’s that? I can recommend you my family doctor and he’s one of the best in the city-”

“What? Is that what it is? You’re upset because I’m not seeing ‘one of the best doctors’ in the city?”

Juyeon refuses to respond, her wrist in his grip as she’s trying to wriggle her way out. “Juyeon!”

“Please, just shut up, and trust me, will you?”

“Trust you? You don’t even want to tell me what the Hell’s going on!” 

Upon reaching the car, Juyeon finally releases her, leaving a bright peach-pink mark on her wrists where he held her too tightly. He pulls open the passenger’s door, but she violently slams it back shut, palm reaching out and pressing into the line where the top of the door connects to the roof of the car.

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what that was.”

“Jesus Christ, will you just trust me for this once? This has nothing to do with HERA & ARTEMIS or your family! This is for your own health and I... I have my own reasons, okay?” Juyeon huffs, running his hands through his hair and ruining the efforts of Younghoon’s hairstylist from the morning. “Not everything is about money, or your reputation, or The Board, okay? I just have a bad feeling about... this.”

Jang Won reels backwards, frown deepening and her lips pursed into a tight, thin, suspicious line. 

He inhales a sharp breath, turning around on his feet and paces up and down in the next lot. He sucks in his lips between his teeth with his hands on the back of his neck. Silently; harshly, begging his intelligence to cook up some stupid, believable reason before she drives a knife into his back for being unreasonable. 

“Okay,” Whirling around, he lifts a single finger and approaches her slowly. “So don’t change hospitals. But every time you go for your check-up, you tell me. If she prescribes you medication, I see it, okay?”

Her pupils are shaking, now that he’s closer and he’s got his palms on her shoulders. Her lips part, wishing to hurl a string of vulgarities at him for even thinking he can dictate her life.

But then he opens his arms and wraps them around her, her frown fading and shock replacing her anger instead. His breath is heavy into the hair that fell onto her back, and she can feel his chest rising against her shoulders.

“What the- Juyeon...”

“Please, just promise me this one thing,” The layer of wetness coat his eyes, and he keeps his mouth open to regulate his breathing. “Please.”

There’s a growing, uneasy nausea in her stomach when she struggles to process his words. It’s in her instincts to pull away, probably send a palm into one of his cheeks for thinking that he has the autonomy and power to decide what she gets to do and what she doesn’t, but she can’t. Almost ashamed, she finds herself buying his plea. 

Is this what genuine care and concern sounds like?

He pulls away, the heat of the carpark air rushing between their bodies. He’s searching her face for any sign of relent, any sign of resignation, and she finds desperation in his. The questions in her head can’t even begin to formulate, because there’s absolutely no reason for Juyeon to be so bothered by her health, and yet he’s got no agenda to be suspicious about. 

He’d be the richer, more powerful one of the two in just about a month’s time.

“Jang Won.”

“Okay!” Shutting her eyes and raising her hands, she trembles as she agrees. “Okay. I’ll bring you along whenever I come for a check-up.”

Relief washes over him, and she can see his lungs deflate, like he was holding his breath waiting for her response. She looks away, unable to maintain any form of eye contact with him after experiencing what seems to be like cared for. It’s disgustingly alien, and it kind of wants to make her cry too. 

It’s like finding your favourite toy stashed away in some obscure cabinet after 20 years. 

Juyeon rests his palms on her shoulders again, then gradually pulls her in once more, this time gentler; less aggressive. A protest rises in her throat, but is interrupted by the form of his palm stroking the hair on the back of her head. 

Yoo Hye In is twirling the stray bit of fringe hanging from her face, Jang Won’s folder in her left hand, stuck between her torso and her right elbow. It was a pity she had missed most of the conversation between her patient and her husband, but nonetheless, the sight of them intrigues her. 

What would it have been like, had she been the one in Kim Jang Won’s shoes instead?

The Porsche starts up with a melancholic atmosphere - not a single word exchanged between the two when they part and he opens the door for her. Already, she can tell that Juyeon is harboring a parasite, one that he will grow to hate and despise. His heart is opening up to her, a piece of stone-cold, less-than-human brat who has no clue how lucky she was to be born into the family that shouldn’t even have existed. The warmth for Kim Jang Won was beginning to brew in the depths of Juyeon’s gut, against his wishes, against his needs, against his wants.

He must have a world of problems to worry about, and now, to throw Kim Jang Won into the floor plan?

Yoo Hye In fails to contain the slight smirk that arises on her lips when the car drives off with Juyeon at the wheel. Pushing herself off the wall of the lift lobby, she turns, heading back into the lift. 

Younghoon was busy sieving through the racks and racks and racks of clothes in the second master bedroom when he hears his little sister’s heels clack and echo along the corridor. 

“Ms Kim, your brother is here.”

“Huh?”

“Surprise!” Younghoon sticks his head out of the second master, eyeing the couple entering the hallway and the butler chasing after them from the stairs. 

“What are you doing with my honeymoon closet?” She hurriedly steps over, heels clacking noisily as she rushes to greet him with a slap on his arm. 

“Tea will be ready in 15, Mr Lee,” Mr Ro bows from the stairs, not bothering to make it to the second floor. Juyeon nods, turning to listen to the muffled bickering emitting from the second master.

“This is alot of clothes for a cool climate. It’s not gonna snow, is it?” Younghoon dumps himself in one of the sofa seats by the coffee table, bringing his feet up to the edge of the bed where some leather patches were displaying scarfs and other garments. Jang Won reaches over and slaps his feet off, pressing down into the scarfs to neaten them. 

“No, it’s not. But you know me, I’m extra and greedy and I have no clue what’s appropriate, so.”

Juyeon enters the room, eyes glossing over the almost 20 racks of clothes, and easily half of them were clothes for him, from HERA & ARTEMIS (and probably like, Dior, and Chanel, or LV, or Gucci, or HERMES). He bows and greets Younghoon, who waves it off nonchalantly as he stands.

“I heard you stayed over,” Raising an arm and casually resting it over Juyeon’s shoulders, Younghoon cheekily side-eyes him. 

“It was an impromptu situation,” Juyeon’s eyes slightly widen with caution.

“Yeah, he ran away from home. Lovely, right?” Jang Won chortles, moving over to one of the racks and skimming through the dresses. 

Younghoon chuckles in disbelief, brows high up on his forehead as he turns to Juyeon, holding him by his shoulder. 

“What?” His glossy eyes flicker. “I’m technically her husband now, which means I could technically live here too.”

“You wish,” Jang Won removes some clothes from the rack and into an empty one.

“Anyway, I managed to get a PI to dig out more information on Mr Nam’s body swap.”

“Body swap?” Juyeon’s eyes light up with caution disguised in curiosity. “You mean... the one that replaced your father?”

“The one and only,” Jang Won sings with a matter-of-fact tone. 

“They actually didn’t figure out much, which is weird, but we did get information on where he used to go for health check ups. Turns out, he went to the same hospital as you do.”

“Aren’t the hospital fees expensive? Did Artemis Ent. provide coverage costs?”

“We don’t cover the entire bill but there is a discount or some kind of partial coverage.”

“Did we get a doctor’s name or something?”

“Multiple, actually,” Younghoon scratches the line where his hairline meets his forehead. “He kept changing doctors because his diagnosis kept changing.”

“This is alot of information at once. Can’t you get it in a folder and have it mailed to me or something? My honeymoon is soon and I’d like the time to myself and not worry about a dead man.”

“Sure, it’s not like I was gonna recite every piece of information to you now,” Younghoon turns and heads for the door. “Tea’s ready, by the way.”

And then, for some strange reason, Younghoon runs.

“Oh! No!” Jang Won’s sudden change in mannerism stuns Juyeon. She flings the clothes back onto her bed and dashes after Younghoon right after he leaves the room. “No! You’re gonna finish the pudding on your own!”

The footsteps slam down into the marble floor when Younghoon starts running down the steps as well. She yells, and her heels click-clack to an abrupt stop for her to remove her shoes. 

“You’re going on your honeymoon, you should give me the pudding!”

With one sharp burst of a sprint, Jang Won manages to catch up to Younghoon, pulling his neck into a headlock and struggling to yank the end of his blazer over his head. 

“Agh!” He shouts, almost losing his balance as he stumbles backwards. “That’s cheating!”

Jang Won giggles, the marble cold against her feet as she pushes past him and runs backwards into the dining hall. Panting, she turns on her heels, hair slightly tousled but the scent of butter pudding wafting in the air was enough to make an appetite.

However, her appetite hits the streets once she sees that the table was one seat occupied. Her breaths immediately become shallow as Younghoon pats himself down, reaching the table and sitting down even before she does. 

“What-”

“Ms Kim,” Mr Ro interrupts, pushing the kitchen door open for the kitchen staff to bring out one more tray of cream puffs. “A guest must also eat.”

“But-”

“Do you want him to die in your house? And then compromise... everything?”

Jang Won puffs her cheeks and frowns. Glaring at Mr Ro, she pulls out the nearest seat, far, far away from her father, and dumps her butt in the chair. 

Watching Jang Won sit down in her seat like a child after acting like one with her brother draws a susceptible smile on Juyeon’s face as he makes his way into the dining hall. 

She picks up the fork as Juyeon bows subtly to Kim Jo-Pil, taking a seat next to her. 

“‘A guest must also eat’,” She whines under her breath. Juyeon’s gaze darts to her when he can hear her mockery. “‘Do you want him to die in your house?’”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Younghoon calls from across the table, hands occupied with spreading jam across his toast. 

“Does it look like I was talking to you?” Jang Won sticks her tongue out at him, and he does the same.

“Children,” Juyeon criticises under his breath, smirk prancing on his lips. In his peripheral vision, he spots a smile emerging on Kim Jo-Pil’s face. It’s the kind of smile that only a father would have, when he’s at the dining table watching his two children argue with one another.

Kim Jo-Pil can’t decide if he was grateful or resentful for the fact that he was alive again. Fate has a strange way of forcing people into thinking the worst or the best out of situations that you weren’t meant to be in, and right now, Kim Jo-Pil knows for a fact that he shouldn’t be sitting here. 

He should’ve been lying in a coffin, 6 feet under, rotting. He had been given a second shot at life, and by the last person he’d expected to birth him one. 

But if Yoo Hye In had Se Kyung’s eyes, Jang Won had the rest of her. 

On the balcony outside Jang Won’s massive bedroom, Juyeon finds himself fiddling with a glass of champagne that Mr Ro had offered him in secret. Jang Won’s favourite champagne, tens of thousands of dollars per bottle.

In the distance and past the metal bars, he can make out the lights in the city against the navy-blue nightsky. All the tall skyscrapers and amongst one of them was the building his family owned, where he should’ve been today and all the days prior. Maybe even next week. But he’d be halfway across the globe in about 5 days, spending time with his wife, not by choice, but by force - and yet he’s gone all soft for her. It’s strange, how his expectations have changed drastically throughout this ordeal. For some moments in this silence he has to himself, he worries if this is sympathy he feels for her.

Then again, sympathy is better than if it were anything more serious. 

Like love.

The door being pulled open from behind him drags him out of his drowning thoughts. The secrets piled up in his memory chucks itself away in fear upon the sight of Jang Won’s head sticking out through the gap between the doors.

“I’ve been told a bottle of my favourite champagne has been opened.”

Juyeon turns back to the glass sitting on the floor and picks it up. “I was given this glass, in case you were wondering if I went into your wine cellar. Want the rest?”

With a childish grin on her face, Jang Won pulls out the entire bottle and an empty from behind her back. Juyeon raises both brows in delightful surprise, chuckling under his breath. 

“I was gonna offer it to you anyway, so it doesn’t matter that Mr Ro’s given you a glass himself,” She slots the rest of her body through the gaps and shuts it behind her. Sinking into the sofa seat (Juyeon had known it was hers and decided to make himself comfortable on the floor instead), she places the bottle on the stand and yanks the cork off. 

“You were gonna offer me your favourite champagne?” He raises a skeptic brow. “After you called me a coward yesterday? After our wedding?”

“That was yesterday?” Jang Won tilts the bottle over her glass. “Feels like last week.”

He snorts at her attempt to change the focus of the conversation. “It does.”

“I just... thought that since the wedding was all for show and none of it was real...” She places the bottle back down and swirls the champagne. “At least this was by choice.”

“What, hanging out on your balcony and drinking champagne?”

Jang Won snickers and pulls her legs onto the seat, taking a sip of her share. 

“Are you really okay with giving me 50% of HERA & ARTEMIS though?” 

“I don’t have a choice, do I? I’m not gonna give my father all 100% of it.”

Juyeon turns away and stares at the bit of champagne left in his glass. “What’s your plan after that? After your father and I get half each and your brother for Artemis Ent.”

“I’ll worry about that then,” She gulps down the rest of her champagne, then reaches over to grab the bottle. “Right now, I just can’t wait to get out of here.”

Juyeon’s finishes the rest of his champagne then looks up to see her gulping straight from the bottle. 

“Do you have a death wish?” He stands and places his glass next to hers. She doesn’t stop. Wrapping his fingers around the cool glass, he gently pulls it away from her lips and tears it out of her grip. Judging by the weight of the bottle, she’s downed half of it in one shot. 

He sucks in a deep breath, turning and leaving the bottle in the corner of the balcony where it’s out of her reach. 

“Do you think your parents love you?”

The question turns his attention back to her. 

“Why do you ask that?” His voice is quiet and low as he sits himself between her and the bottle. “You know I would say no but I can’t say that in front of you.”

“Do you think they did what they did solely for the family’s name?”

“Their defence would be that I get to live with the benefits. So-”

“I’m not talking about them, I’m asking about what you think.”

Juyeon pauses to think, but Jang Won speaks first anyway.

“I think they do, you know. That they do love you. They just... grew up in an environment where they’re just doing what their parents did for them. They turned out fine, so I think they just assume you’ll turn out fine as well.”

“‘Fine’ now is different from being ‘fine’ in the 1960s and 70s,” Juyeon leans his head against the metal bars keeping him safe within the balcony. 

Jang Won’s head was resting against the backseat of the sofa chair, hair dribbled all over the woven wooden strips and her eyes reflecting the dim, amber balcony lights from above. She’s tired, and definitely feeling like the entire world is against her. 

If she squinted hard enough, she could barely make out the huge H&A signs stuck to the side of shopping malls all around the city. By now, she can feel her cheeks heat up from the alcohol ingested in such a short amount of time, but luckily for her, the amber lights are helping the pink in her cheeks camouflage into her skin. 

She turns to find Juyeon staring at the bottle’s label, like he were memorizing the details of it.

“I’ll get you a new bottle,” Juyeon holds the neck and grunts as he stands, hands reaching for the cork on the stand. “Also, your cheeks are pink. I think that’s good enough reason to get you to sleep.”

Juyeon reaches for the door grip to slide it open, pulling it open just a few inches. 

“I miss my mom.”

He stops. 

“Tomorrow’s her death anniversary,” She whispers under her breath. “It’s been five long years without her.”

They lock eyes, but Jang Won turns away first. 

“Hera’s Manor was meant for the both of us. The blueprint of the house... every room and every statue purchased and made the way we wanted it to be made. But before the house could be moved into, she leaves me. All alone.”

Jang Won’s eyes flit to Juyeon, and he can’t look at her in the eye. He’s not used to her opening up like this, but it’s all thanks to the champagne anyway. Never in a million years would she bother to do this if she wasn’t tipsy. 

“I mean... Does she know I’m here now? In this very spot, wondering what had gone wrong?”

Juyeon lowers his head and seals his eyes shut. The guilt stirs within him.

“I wish I could tell her that I’m okay, at least. She always worried about me more than Younghoon, for some strange reason, because I was a girl in the administration of The Board,” Her voice cracks and Juyeon’s eyes are open now. “And yet, I’m the one taking care of him now.”

She gulps loudly, trying her best to swallow the ball of sobs stuck in her throat. Shaking her head and prying out a painful smile, she finally snaps when she looks down into her lap where her hands are.

Gritting her teeth, and pursing her lips, it’s a meagre attempt at trying to stop the hiccups that are already in the back of her mouth. The tears begin to collect in her palms and kiss the material of her pajama pants, the warmth seeping through the cotton and sticking it to her thighs. 

The shuffling rustles through her left ear, followed by a soft thud of the glass decanter, and then she feels a warmth hold her hands. Cold tears bleed through the lines of their palms when she opens her eyes, just barely, to meet Juyeon’s. 

He’s got a painful, pitiful look in his eyes that she would punch him in the face for, but even she can’t disagree that she was being a sad mope right now. 

“Your mother knows,” He nods, reaching up to her forehead and pushing a strand of hair out of her tear streaks. “I promise you.”

Her facial muscles crush towards the middle when the sobs finally break past her discipline, and she crumbles her face into her hands. The sorrow in Juyeon carefully motivates her off the seat, and he shuffles to get his back against the metal bars of the balcony, and her in his arms between his legs. 

His nose sours and his vision starts to blur when he can feel her torso shiver and jerk with every sob he hears. The side of her head nestles into his left shoulder, hands tightly clenched together against her stomach with his elbow resting on her bent knees. 

He parts his lips to inhale, but he looks down to watch the tears drip off her chin. 

“Are you going to meet Younghoon to see your mother tomorrow?” He whispers, gently pushing her hair out of her tears. 

She sniffles, wiping away the mucus on her philtrum. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” He nods, keeping her head on his shoulder. “I’ll go with you.”

“Okay.”

[egyptian-sun-god]

Never Have I Ever (mildly critical lens)

1. BIG THING. NHIE is not a show that was made directed at me. Yes it has similarities with my heritage as Indian but I am not American. Not born there nor raised. I am a diaspora Tamilian though, and my schools throughout most of my life have had very little Indians and even fewer Tamilians in them. Usually its just me.  So while there is overlap, Devi and I would have innately different experiences and worldviews.

2. Why is her last name Vishwakumar and her Dad’s name Mohan? Where that coming from. Correct me if I’m wrong, but most to all Tamil people use patronymic's right? Like am I right or am I tripping? Someone correct me. I checked Mindy Kaling’s bio and she took her father’s last name so I might be tripping? 

3. Okay straight off the bat, Devi annoyed the hell outta me. Like no joke...I really dislked Devi. But she’s a traumatized teenager who has no common sense and too much hormones. I’ve seen ppl like her so I’m fairly happy we have a flawed and messed up portrayal of a POC and doesn’t feed into the idea of perfection. But also Devi’s mom is suprisingly lenient to Devi’s disrespect man. like I see why but woowowowowo....she’s uncharacteristically tolerant sometimes. 

Now even though I get that Devi is supposed to be flawed and unlikeable. Because she is immensely selfish and bitchy with shitty communication skills. Devi’s friends forgive her waaay to fast. Like ladies, what are you aiming for? SAINTHOOD? Like at least let her grovel a little bit for being such a bitch. 

4. Love interest. Y’all heard me. WHY THE FUCK IS BOTH OF HER INTERESTS WHITE or at least definitely white passing. Like they did Paxton dirty man. Like was it too much? Was it too much to wish for Devi to have more Indian friends or like an Indian/POC love interest? I feel personally that it is such a weird precedent that has been set with POC centric love stories. And this definitely should be a critic that has come up before. 

You know which love stories resonated with me? Nalini and Mohan. Because it represented the possibility of like marrying someone (going off the assumption they were arranged to be married) and falling in love after marriage. A very real scenario for many many couples. Kamala’s entire shenanigan with Steve and Prasanth and having to choose between the uncertain boyfriend situation but losing family but keeping family and going with an arranged marriage. Also props to Kaling for not demonizing arranged marriages. Please please let season 2 explore Kamala’s struggle more. Hell even that one off thing with Eleanor and the tech crew boy was funny. 

5. Kamala’s whole character was many vibes. Because counting down and stressing about marriage is such a goddamn relatable feeling. I ain’t that much younger than Kamala and let me tell you the anticipation/fear is REAL. And like her talking in Ganesh puja and like weighting the options of being a social outcast or going with the arranged marriage and with the hope that like you’ll find someone cool.

6. I don’t like how Devi tries to reject her Indian culture and I really really hope they develop that next season or something and get her to find a balance. Because at the end of that season she did get a good talking to about trying to be Indian enough or too Indian and finding that balance but it doesn’t feel like she’s finding that balance and her being jealous of the other Indian girl does not bode well for me. 

ALSO THEY FUCKING MISSED OUT SO BAD. You make a series about a Tamil American girl and you don’t name drop any famous stars. Thala Thalapathy, Superstar??? VJS?? Surya? Dhanush? Nobody? Why? Like Devi doesn’t know them...makes sense. But like Kamala is from town right? She has to have carried some of that. Like that scene when she called them for a movie right? Why not name drop some famous ass classic like Baasha or Sachein or Roja? Like a cool nod to the Tamil kids out there watching this series to see parts of their culture and language included. Like even the soundtrack and songs have no Tamil songs? Like not even one for the heck of it?? WHY? IS THAT NOT SO SO MUCH MISSED REPRESENTATION? Like typical Tamil things like making a beat out of random shit, Tamil kuthu songs, Typical Tamil mega serials, food and enjoying food together. Like why wasn’t the food stated or name dropped. 

Personally, NHIE was really really really white palatable and it didn’t really get it into any roots of our culture especially for a girl struggling to find roots as in where she fits. Like you gotta show both cultures and let the audience and Devi figure out where she fits. If you show long Netflix shows like Pretty little liars, show alternatives like mega serials such as Chitti or Mudiyaathu Karuppu or Mettioli? Or if you wanna be more modern name drop Tamil webseries’s? If you wanna show English pop hits, show Tamil album songs and kuthu beats. IF YOU WANNA REPRESENT, THEN ACTUALLY REPRESENT. Don’t pull this generic ass BS on me!

5. I hope the lack of tamil culture in the series gets corrected next season somehow. I don’t have ANY ANY faith that it will. But I can be hopeful. Also I lowkey like that Devi has like a “rival” of another Indian girl. I don’t like that is is rivalry cause brown sisters gotta support each other and that’s sort of been the general motto from where I’m from. But like I get why and it would make complete sense. 

I really really hope that Aneesha is like super super Indian. Proud of her culture and brings a lot of her culture and its facets to discussions and not afraid to make her culture a focal point of herself.  It would be a really good foil to Devi and it might spark some thought into her and accepting or at least recognizing the cool shit about being Tamil. I wanna see that mainly cause I used to be lowkey ashamed for having a strong accent when I speak cause I was made fun of and I didn’t like having different lunches or listening to different music and not being part of the more Western culture. But I learnt to ignore that and became like 3000 times more proud of being Tamil and wore like traditional clothes to school, ranging from kurti tops over jeans at first and eventually wearing full on chudidaars and saris (saris to proms at least, I couldn’t wear a sari on a daily, half sari probably, sari would be hard). Bringing traditional sweets and food and distributing them to anyone who would ask and trading lunches.  Please let me see a brown kid who is proud to be brown and straight up in your face about it at times. 

(Unrelated but to Tamil/Indian ppl who had other Indian/Tamil kids in your school like was trading lunches or like sharing lunches common? Like its a pretty common Tamil thing to do and I brought that culture of taking some of everybody’s lunch and giving everybody a part of mine everywhere I went. But like was that a thing? )

[redrobin-detective]

a passing glimpse

heaven gives it glimpses only to those not in a position to look too close ~ Robert Frost, A Passing Glimpse _______________________________

Jack Fenton was eleven and he was an explorer, just like Davey Crockett or Buzz Aldrin. He’d declared so to his mother that very morning but she had simply rolled her eyes and told him to get on with his chores. That’s all his parents wanted him for, chores and his duty to the family. But Jack knew there was so much more out there and he was determined to find it. 

Ma had told him never to go into the woods alone but Jack brought his rifle with him so he wasn’t exactly alone. He adjusted his coontail hat and hiked the strap of the rifle higher on his shoulder. Pa would probably be mad that Jack had taken it without permission but punishments and chores were far away, not when there was adventure to be had here and now.

The woods was an okay place to hang out. There were always animals around to sneak up on and study, plenty of trees for climbing and plenty of rock or sticks to fend have pretend battles with. Jack wanted nothing but adventure in his life, Ma said that peace was a blessing but he craved more. He felt like he was brimming with energy, always getting yelled for talking to loud or moving too fast. The woods were wide reaching and deep and yet Jack felt constrained by them, he wanted more. 

Jack scrambled over rocks and pretended he was climbing on the moon, in search of aliens. He picked up a stick and batted it against the trunks of trees and acted as if he were engaging in battle with a sworn enemy. Staring up at the setting sun, Jack let himself be pulled away from his dull present. It was only when he realized he couldn’t see his breath fogging anymore in the midwinter air did he realize how dark it had gotten, having snuck up on him suddenly while he’d been daydreaming.

Oh fudge, Ma was probably going to throw a fit when he got back. Pa would just glare at him, radiating anger and disappointment. They’d tell him over and over that they didn’t understand why he felt he had to act out, why he couldn’t just obey them like his sisters? Jack wishes he was better with words to explain that he wasn’t like them, that their world wasn’t his. Only he didn’t know where his own was just yet. He kicked a stone and grudgingly turned to head back.

Just as he was turning, a faded light caught the edges of his vision. It was a soft pulsing glow, like someone had lit a candle somewhere nearby. Only candles didn’t feel cold like this. Jack shivered and pulled his jacket around him tighter, it wasn’t cold enough to snow but the air seemed drastically colder than it had been a minute ago. Ma said that Jack was filled with guts where most boys had sense so of course he had to see. He unstrapped the small rifle from his shoulder but kept it pointed low at the ground like Pa had taught him. Slowly he approached, the strange glow radiating from a particular section of wood. He passed through a particularly thick cluster of trees and saw it.

It was a man, at least that was Jack’s first thought until his eyes took in the rest of the apparition. Though it looked young, it’s hair was white as snow. The ends misted softly in the air, tossing in a gentle wind that existed only for it. Jack could see most of the way through the strange creature who didn’t seem to care that it ought to be on the ground instead of floating above it. It wore something that was black and white, a white cape glittered around it’s shoulders and the black on the inside twinkled like stars. A crown of icy crystal floated above it’s head, perfectly balanced.

Jack had read about kings in his books. He hadn’t cared about the politics of being a ruler or how one person or another was chosen. All he’d really cared about was their graves and the treasures and knowledge they held. Staring at this ghostly king floating peacefully in the woods near his home, Jack realized that graves could hold other things too. 

The woods were deadly quiet, it felt like Jack was the only living thing on the planet, like the spirit’s presence had driven everything else off. Everything but Jack who had guts but no brains. He should go, should flee back home but found he couldn’t not just out of fear but wonder too. As weird as it was to say, the ghost was beautiful, ethereal. He was something Jack didn’t understand but longed to. For the first time in his young life, he wanted something in front of him and not some faraway dream.

He leaned forward and the barrel of his rifle scraped against the bark of the tree. The apparition, which had been staring in the other direction turned it’s eyes in his direction. Jack lifted his rifle on reflex when it’s glowing green eyes landed on him. Almost as soon as the gun was raised, he lowered it. Jack can’t say why only that when that ghost looked at him, when he saw that face, he couldn’t bear to point the weapon at it. You only pointed your gun at things you intended to shoot.

“Are you-” the ghost began softly, floating gently forward. While Jack had been content to watch from afar, once the spirit moved towards him did Jack’s deeply buried survival instincts kick in. He turned tail and ran. He ran so fast his coontail hat flew off and landed somewhere behind it. Maybe it would be enough of a gift to stop that thing from chasing him, for trespassing in a place where the living were not welcomed. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, stumbling and staggering over loose rocks or roots but never slowing until the lights of his family’s cabin came into view. 

Ma didn’t believe his story and neither did Pa. He did get the lecture he expected and more chores piled on top of the ones he’d already ignored. His sisters teased him for his runaway imagination and asked when he was going to grow up. Lying in bed that night, Jack wondered if what he saw was real. It had seemed real, if not the spirit but the way it made him feel. Like he was a real explorer, not just a pretend one in a silly hat but someone who had stepped just over the edge of the unknown and gotten a taste. And who could stop after just one bite? He needed more, whatever that thing was, Jack Fenton was going to find it again. Even if it took him his whole life. Unbeknownst to him, it would only take him twenty-eight years to see the spirit again, blue eyes twinkling from inside a baby blanket. 

Life can take a lot of twists and turns, some of them sharper when one is friends with a Master of Time. An encounter becomes a story which becomes a passion. A passion for understanding leads to a passion for a young woman which results in a blue eyed baby boy. A boy who became a ghost, a hero and a king and let himself be summoned by his timely friend to the deep woods late at night for an important meeting. Neither father nor son understood how deftly they’d been placed, like pieces on a chess board. How a whole life can be made and the best timeline preserved by a passing chance and a passing glimpse.

[headinthestaticsky]

Extras for The Dusk Calls for me.

Authors Note: While I plan out the next few chapters of my story, enjoy these memories I did for the re-write I did on Wattpad.

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions and a attempt of SA

Time: This Takes place a year before the beginning of The Dusk Calls for me.

"Makes me feel like flying

Top-down backstreet driving Dusty road all alone

Tip my hat Puff of smoke, smoke

Makes me feel like flying

I just run ."

American Gurl by: Kilo Kish

I was finally out, those words of bile my mother and sister spew toward me finally pushed me over the edge. Yet those words finally got me back with my father in Forks, where I always belonged.

Flashback: One Week Ago.

"FLEUR! GET DOWN HERE NOW!" My erratic mother Renee yelled from downstairs.

My heart started beating out of my chest, what did I do this time? I walked into the dining room, Renee and Isabella were sitting at the table across from where I was sitting. Bella had a smirk on her face relishing in the tension between Renee and I.

"Yes?" I asked.

"You always have to cause trouble don't you?' She replied back, malice laced her voice.

"What? What are you even talking about?"

"Bella told me you've been saving money to go see your father in Forks." She spat at me.

My rapidly beating heart sunk down into my stomach, I had been trying to see my dad in Forks for a year now. My mother refused to get me a plane ticket herself, she always told me I reminded her too much of my father and that I didn't need to be around him anymore than I already was which wasn't often.

"Mother, it's my money I can do with it as I please," I said calmly though I could feel the rage beginning to boil in my blood.

"YOU AREN'T GOING!" She yelled demandingly.

I couldn't control myself, it was as if someone else had entered my body.

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS SO WRONG FOR WANTING TO SEE MY FATHER!?"

"I'M NOT GOING TO WASTE THAT KIND OF MONEY ON YOU!"

"Well you aren't now aren't you? It's my own money and I will use it however the hell I want to!"

"Oh don't you..." Renee started.

"Are you going to tell me you would be doing the same thing if Bella was the one wanting to go see dad?"

"She isn't a trouble maker." She snapped back.

"How am I a trouble maker? For wanting my mother to be kind and considerate? For wanting my mother to treat me with respect? To get an ounce of love from the frozen, undead heart inside your chest?" I asked, my face heated up it felt like it was burning.

"If you can't stand to be around us so much why don't you just move down there to Forks?"

"I will, just give me the rest of the money for the plane ticket and I swear to god the second I walk out that door I will NEVER come back!"

"Fine..." I turned away from her before she could say anything else. Before I reached the stairs I turned around again, looking directly at Bella.

"Get away from her while you can Isabella, or you're going to end up being just as toxic as she is." I then left before they could say anything else.

Flashback over: 2 years before the Original story begins.

I looked to the side, staring out the window. The desert plains had disappeared while I slept and now the lush green forests overtook the view. The fog wasn't heavy but the skies were covered with dark grey clouds and a downpour of rain. The cold weather was a lot more favorable in my opinion, the sun couldn't burn my skin much here. The plane had begun to shake signaling that the plane was beginning to land. I couldn't wait to see my father again, I hadn't seen him since my 12th birthday. When I got off the plane I stretched, being cramped in a small plane for an almost 3-hour flight wasn't exactly the most comfortable.

I walked through the crowded airport, scanning the area for my father. I bumped into some disgruntled couples and quickly left before I was caught in the crossfires of their mood.

"Petal?" I heard from behind me. I turned around quickly recognizing that voice, it could calm me down before I got into trouble.

"Dad..." I said fondly before running up to hug him.

My heartfelt I little more full, and the pain my mother inflicted on me was healed for the time being. We walked out together, each of us was carrying a bag. The wind was strong today and my hair was flying all of the places. Its cooling touch raised goosebumps on my skin, mom didn't buy any warmer clothes for me so I was stuck in the typical Arizona tank tops and shorts. Luckily for me, the car was already warmed up so I dethawed quickly. We drove for a few minutes in silence, the roar of the engine and other passing cars were the only sounds filling the space.

"So, how have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in a while." Dad said.

"I've been better, you know how mom is," I mumbled.

"I don't know what happened to her, she wasn't like that in high school. If she was I wouldn't have even wasted a second on her."

"I know you would've dad...she's cruel for sure. She's just good at hiding it from people she wants to impress."

"Yeah, she is."

The drive was a giant wave of nostalgia, being 16 now and seeing all of the familiar sites and views brought back fond memories. The old ice cream shop dad use to take me to, the reservation that Sam and Leah lived on, it all brought me back. It also fueled anger, however, as my mother constantly kept me under the brutal radiation of the sun.  Dad must've seen the look on my face and put his hand on my shoulder.

"It's going to be okay Petal, you're away from her now." He comforted.

"It's not just her dad... Bella's acting like her too."

"That's a shame... it really is."

"Yeah... it is." I sighed.

"I just can't wait to get back home, the attic is calling for me."

Dad chuckled before speaking again.

"You know... I heard you just got your license... So I got you an older car."

"You did not have to do that dad."

"It doesn't get in until next week, so I'll have to drive you to school until then," Dad said as if that would balance out the fact he got me a car.

"That's fine dad. What is it?"

"It's an old Mustang, a Fastback."

"Thank you, dad..."

"No problem Petal.

When we pulled into the driveway of our small but beautiful home the nostalgia fully set in. The colors were exactly the same, and the grass was just as muddy and dead as before.

"Well I cleared off some shelves for you in the bathroom, your room was a bit dusty so I just cleaned it for you," Dad explained as he helped me take my luggage upstairs.

"Sounds good, thank you again, dad, I love you."

"Love you too Petal." He kissed my head before closing the door behind me. The room was bare, I would have to fix it later on. I collapsed on my bed, facing the ceiling.

"I'm home."

September 17th, 2004.

"Dad I have to go, I don't want to be late on my first day!" I exclaimed throwing on a leather jacket.

"Petal I am almost ready, I never knew you were so much of a bookworm." He joked, ruffling my hair.

"Dad I am an entire school year ahead of where I should be... I take my education very seriously." I said, trying to hide the growing smirk on my face.

"Alright alright let's go," Dad said, taking my arm and pulling me out the door.

We were only driving for a little bit when I decided to roll the window down, I placed my arms on where the window used to be and rested my head on them. My hair blew out of my face and the cool mist of Forks hit me. When we arrived at the school dad was scanning the parking lot looking for a place to park when he passed right by a group of people. They were all gorgeous, their faces seemingly perfectly sculpted, and they all had the same colored eyes, golden. My eyes locked with one however, they were filled with pain for a second before melting into shock. something strange filled my chest and my heart began to race. As we drove past them I gave him a smile, hoping to ease his shock.

Timeskip: September 30th, 2004

Something was up, the boy I saw outside that window, Jasper Hale was more than what he seemed. He was freezing cold all the time, and I swore I saw his eyes turn black for a split second when he saw a boy from another make a gesture toward me. It was strange really, we had been friends for a few weeks but he seemingly had a protective...energy over me. But at the same time, I still felt something... I couldn't explain it. It was as if we were connected to each other in some way. My dad had to take my car to the shop and he couldn't pick me up today so I decided to take a trip to the library, hoping to find some new material to read.

I didn't realize how long I had been in the library until I looked out of the small windows of the building. The sky was darkened and daylight was running out, I checked out a few books and left not wanting to be stuck walking in the night. I was a few blocks home when I heard 3 men talking behind me.

"Oh looks at this one..."

"She seems perfect for us."

"Come here girly... we just want to talk."

My heart raced and my pace quickened, speed walking home. I tried taking weird turns and cuts but they wouldn't fall for the bait. I decided to run for it hoping my legs would be quick enough to evade them all. I was then pushed against the wall 2 minutes into my escape again, the smell of alcohol made me want to retch.

"You aren't very good at listening to orders." One murmured, his face was inches away from me, he breathed in my scent and began to chuckle.

"Don't be too hard on her... I like ones that fight." Another said

"Make this easy on yourself girl..."

One reached down to take off my clothes when he was suddenly thrown back a few feet into the air. I just stood against the wall shocked, I saw Jasper standing over the man before making his way over to the other two men. They both took off leaving their "friend" behind but Jasper zoomed toward them. His speed was inhuman and his strength was unprecedented yet I couldn't stop myself from moving from my spot. The other two men were flown into the air and scream on impact. Jasper grabbed them both by the throats.

"If you EVER try to touch her or any woman for that matter like that again... I. will. kill. you!" He growled before releasing them down on the ground. They gasped and ran again, babbling in terror toward one another.

Jasper walked toward me with a guilty look on his face, his hand reached out for mine and I took it without even thinking.

"Come with me Darlin' I have a lot to explain to you." He said softly, his mood had completely changed with me.

We walked for a few moments in silence, I side-eyed him for any shift in behavior, when it didn't I decided to interrogate him.

"How did you do that?" My voice trembled.

He sighed before replying.

"I'm a vampire." He said blatantly.

I looked at him and laughed thinking it was a joke... when he didn't join I stopped and looked at him with shock.

"You're serious?" I said, my eyes widening again.

"Yes I am, I've been 17 for...141 years. I got changed during the Civil War."

"Damn... you're old... wait were you in the Civil War?"

"Yes, I was drafted to the Confederate Army when I was 17..."

"Yikes..."

"You're telling me, I ran away the first chance I got... I wasn't going to fight in some war that was fueled by warped and disgusting ideas just because I was forced to. I never thought the way they did... I never understood why someone could think so low of a human being just because of his skin."

"That's very brave of you."

"I had just made it to Galveston when I decided to take a break... I ended up on a beach... that's when I ran into an immortal named Maria. She was creating an army and decided that I would be a good fit for it."

"She changed you against your will?"

"I didn't even know what she was doing until I felt searing pains from my arms all the way up to my neck." He explained rolling up his sleeves and showing me his scars."

I traced the teeth marks on his forearm before looking up at him again.

"I'm sorry that happened to you..."

He looked up at me in shock.

"You... you feel sympathy for something like me? I'm a monster..." He said sincerely.

"It wasn't even your choice as to what you became... and I don't think a monster would've saved me back there. Face it, Jasper, you're a big softie who's had bad experiences in his long... long life."

He chuckled before glancing at me, we made it back to the house, dad still wasn't home yet. We walked into the backyard, sitting in patio chairs and looking up at the stars.

"There's something else I have to tell you." Jasper admitted in the darkness.

I looked at him in confusion, what else did he have to tell me? He's a werewolf too?

"You're..." He hesitated. "You're my mate." He said quickly.

"What? How... vampires have mates?" I asked in shock.

"Yes we do, and we instantly know when we've met them. Didn't you feel it, when you looked out that window at me? It was enamour... love, something I have never experienced before."

"I haven't either... but I have to admit I felt something too. I just didn't know what it was, I felt connected to you somehow though. But... I'm 16... falling deeply in love isn't exactly something I planned."

"I understand completely. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. I understand I am a vampire... this is a lot to take in." Jasper said lowering his head in shame, his curls covered his eyes.

I sat up and turned to him.

"Hey, hey it's not just because you're a vampire honest! I just need to think things through... we can still talk in and out of school I won't push you out." I said a bit faced-paced. I didn't want to hurt his feelings he did just save me after all.

He looked and me and grabbed my hand.

"Take all the time you need Fleur, I will accept your answer no matter what is it." He said sincerely.

"Thank you... Jasper."

"It's not any trouble." His face lit up all of the sudden, car headlights entered my line of view. I felt my hand by dropped by his cold one and a whoosh of wind flew my hair forward. I turned back around and he was gone.

Timeskip: October 16th, 2004.

It was hard, weighing the pros and cons of being with Jasper.

Pros: We were soulmates... destined to be with each other, He knew my limits and respected my boundaries, he gave me a choice, not forcing me into something I might not want to do, and he was a kind and gentle soul. We understood each other, our hearts and souls were connected and I would never find someone else I would be so close to.

Cons: He was a creature who thirsted for blood... a thirst he didn't always have the best control over, Being in a serious relationship at such a young age was a huge commitment I didn't even fully know who I was... would I ever be able to find out who I am being so committed to someone If I did become involved in a relationship two things would happen... I would die and leave him lonely for eternity, or I would be turned into a vampire... leaving my family behind.

My mulling over of the pros and cons was interrupted, a girl had cleared her throat. I looked up realizing I was still in the school library, standing in the back of the constant isles of books. I turned to the voice and my eyes were shocked to see Rosalie Hale looking at me.

"Rosalie? Is there something you need?" I asked.

"Let's go for a walk, I need to talk to you in private." She said she seemed tense about something.

I checked out the books I got before following her to the outside, we walked near the edge of the woods. The dead leaves and grass crunched underneath our feet.

"I know Jasper told you about us... and he told me that you wanted to think somethings over with him." She started.

"Hey... I just wanted to let you know I would never tell anyone about you guys... And I'm not trying to hurt Jasper with me thinking our relationship over. It's just a lot of process." By the time I finished that statement she laughed and patted my shoulder.

"Don't worry Fleur I completely understand why you want to think over some things... I would too if I were in your shoes. Besides, I trust you... I get a good vibe off of you." Rosalie replied smiling at me.

"I want to get into a relationship with Jasper I do but... I don't want to leave my father... he's all I got right now and I'm all he's got."

"Hey, I promise no one would force you into becoming a vampire in our family... I especially wouldn't force you to."

"Really?"

"Yes of course... It's nice to meet someone with a respect for mortality."

"It's just... I always to do certain things... like going to that art school in Cayon City Oregon... the Art Museums down there are amazing... and I always wanted to kid when I was older... a little boy." I explained smiling fondly at the thought.

"I did too... I always wanted a son."

"But at the same time... I wouldn't want to spend all my time with Jasper... only to leave him alone for eternity you know?" I asked her hoping she would get my point of view.

"Of course... I can tell you've been conflicted these past few weeks about it. But I wanted to vouch for Jasper... he's willing to do anything for you, and his thirst for blood has never been more controlled than when he's been with you. He won't take you away from your family either... he would never want to hurt you in any way possible." She explains turning toward me to look me in the eyes so the message could really sink in.

"Thanks, Rosalie..."

"Of course...give Jasper a chance, I promise it'll be worth it." She said.

"I will... I'll talk to him tonight, thanks for the guidance."

"No problem."

Timeskip: October 16th, 2004: 10:12 PM

Dad was gone, he had to work late down at the station tonight. My palms and legs shook nervous to tell Jasper my decision. I was sitting in the same spot I was in when Jasper told me I was his soulmate... the cool air calmed my nerves slightly before I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Fleur? You said you wanted to talk to me... are you okay?" Jasper's voice asked worryingly behind my closed lids.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I just wanted to give you an answer about... everything."

He sat down adjacent to me and nodded, wanting me to continue.

"I will get into a relationship with you... thank you for giving me the time to think about things."

He smiled before asking me if he could kiss my cheek. I said yes of course and it seemed my body melted in bliss and content. All the past weeks' tensions and worrying left me and it was replaced with love... and a sense of stability. We looked up at the stars and I pointed toward the largest one in the sky.

"You see that one?" I said.

"Yes, I do Darlin'."

"That is the star of the path I started with you..."