#at the very least though glad to see the children are returning to their natural habitat: being menaces to adults in malls

[gibbearish]

hey question when did spencer's get dope as fuck

[animatorweirdo]

Gone And Lost Again

You had been in love with him since you were children, but now that fate threatens to take him away once more, you find the courage to say the words you never dared to reveal and hope it might spare you from the sorrow.

Requested by Anon

I would like to request a Gwindor x female elf reader story. The reader is Finduilas's younger sister who is in love with Gwindor but never confessed her feelings because her sister loved Gwindor. Until on day when Gwindor finds out.

The ending is upto you.

Thank you ☺️💖

Warnings: mentions of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, pining, unrequited love, getting captured, mentions of Gelmir's fate, scars, a missing hand, some discrimination toward Gwindor, Turin and his bad luck, some fluff, and a confession.

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You were the youngest daughter of King Orodreth and the younger sister of Princess Finduilas. Timid in nature, but well-liked by your people. You had a good relationship with your father and sister even though things had been difficult since your mother died. Being a princess had its own challenges, which meant studying, knowing certain things about courts and politics, and being expected of things. 

It was not too bad since you were the youngest, so you had more free time than your older sister. You’re usually engrossed in reading, keeping up with the latest news, and worrying about the future.

However, the biggest challenge you could not overcome no matter what were your feelings toward someone.  

Gwindor. He was a kind and handsome elf. He and his brother had been friends with you and your sister since you were children. 

His kind and loving nature pulled you toward him like a moth to a flame, and you could not help but fall hopelessly in love with him. You even imagined yourself marrying him one day and having a family with him. However, that day never came when you grew older and he fell in love with your sister. 

You envied their relationship, especially when later they decided to get engaged. However, you could not bring yourself to hate your sister. You loved them both and since you cared for their happiness, you distanced yourself, wishing the best for their engagement and hiding your broken heart. 

It was not hard for your feelings to go unnoticed by everyone. You were a very silent person, but one did notice and that was your father. He confronted you about it and you told him about your feelings toward Gwindor. He was sharp when it came to you and your sister, so there was no point in trying to hide it from him. 

You felt heartbroken, but you were happy for the pair. Even though you might never be able to love someone else, at least they would be happy with each other. Your father encouraged you to be there, and you did support and comfort them when things got difficult and Gwindor lost his brother in the Sudden Flames.

Then the worst happened: Gwindor decided to join the battle for the north despite your father’s orders not to partake in it. Unable to let go of his brother’s loss, he went anyway, and you wished him a safe return.

However, he never returned and you later heard how the battle came to a devastating loss. Your heart broke for him and you mourned with your sister, believing he had died. It helped break the ice between you and your sister, even though you never told her of your feelings toward Gwindor. 

Many years after the battle, to your joy, Gwindor returned with a human man who called himself Agarwaen. He was scarred, had lost a hand, and his appearance had changed significantly. It would have been difficult to recognize him from his former self, but you still recognized those eyes, which still held kindness.

Joy took over your mind and heart. You even embraced him to see if he was really there. Gwindor was surprised by the gesture but returned it with a soft smile. You nearly cried when you expressed how glad you were to see him again, alive and free from Morgoth’s cruel clutches. 

Gwindor comforted you and then introduced you to his human friend. 

Your soul felt at ease to have him back home. You gladly helped him and his friend settle back in Nargothrond. His friend was odd and quiet, but he showed gratefulness for your kindness. You finally felt like things were going to be better, perhaps the Valars have finally taken pity and granted you joy by returning Gwindor from the darkness. 

However, things between Gwindor and Finduilas were never the same. You saw how she was glad to see him safe and home, but her eyes no longer held the love they once had for him. Instead, her affection was directed toward the human man who had begun to earn fame and recognition among the elves of Nargothrond.

It was not too long when she decided to end their engagement and relationship in total. 

Your heart ached for Gwindor as he seemed saddened yet did not feel anger toward his friend who had Finduilas’s heart. Even after everything and losing so much, he did not feel the slightest ounce of anger or resentment. 

You decided to try to be his comfort, especially when some people mistrusted him for his past as a thrall. You understood that some wounds caused by Angband would take time to heal, but you did not believe Gwindor to be a spy. If Angband had managed to tamper with his gentle heart, he would have been less kind toward everything— but he wasn’t. Angband had not managed to break him. 

Gwindor felt appreciation for you and your support. You two began spending more time with each other, catching up with silly conversations you used to have as children. He shared what had become of his brother, Gelmir, and you felt sorrow at the thought of his sweet brother facing such a cruel end. 

Gwindor had come to terms with his brother’s death during his time in Angband. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of returning to Nargothrond and reuniting with you and your sister.

Your heart felt warm by his conviction, and your feelings for him resurfaced the more time you spent with him. You simply wanted his smile to light up his features once more. 

You felt certain reluctance toward your feelings for him. He had loved Finduilas, and thus would never fall in love again, so what would be the point of confessing your love for him? 

However, you had your answer, when the man he came with turned out to be Turin, and he began to encourage your father and the rest of Nargothrond to go to war with Morgoth. A great bridge was built. Gwindor was against it as he knew the might of Morgoth better than anyone. However, no one would listen. 

You tried to talk to your father about it, having your own doubts about the plan. But he was also convinced of Turin’s plan. 

Then came the day when the forces of Nargothrond were to march to war with Morgoth, led by Turin and your father. And to your fear, Gwindor had also decided to join the battle despite his scars and lack of hand. 

You decided to reveal your feelings now while you still had the chance rather than keep them secret forever and possibly lose Gwindor again to the fangs of war who spared no one who happened to get caught by them. 

“Gwindor, wait!” 

The elf stopped when he heard you and turned to look at you as you approached. His armor gleamed with silver, and a helmet rested beneath his arm. It was a sight all too familiar to you, which only deepened your dread about his chances of returning home.

“Is there any way I could convince you not to go? I’m afraid this plan is too far-fetched and you and father will never return,” you explained as you caught up to him. 

“Turin is confident that we might win, and besides, even if we didn’t go to war, Glaurung would still come this way,” Gwindor answered softly. 

“And we could have been able to stay hidden if that bridge had not been built. It’s standing there like a sore thumb, a dead giveaway to our city,” you stated. 

“I mean no disrespect toward you or your friendship with Turin, but I’m afraid his hatred for Morgoth and thirst for revenge has clouded his judgment. Building the bridge has already left us bare to the world, and what shall we do if you lose this fight and we are left defenseless?” you questioned, sounding nearly desperate and devoid of hope at the thought of being attacked by Morgoth’s armies. 

“That will be left to be seen…” Gwindor said with a tone of hesitation and sorrow. There was no denying it. He was not fully convinced of the plan, and yet he could not stop himself from joining the hopeless fight. 

You thought about your feelings for him. It was no or never. 

“Gwindor, please. Do not go. I already lost you once. I do not think I can bear the pain of losing you again,” you said. 

“You know I can’t just stay behind. It would be neglectful on my part,” Gwindor answered. 

“Then hear out what I have to say, because if this might be the last time we speak, I will never be able to say it again,” you said and he listened. 

“Gwindor. I have loved you since our childhood. And I pushed myself away and never dared to put myself between you and Finduilas. If this might be the last time we talk, then I at least wish to share my feelings toward you once and for all then leave them unsaid,” you revealed, tears nearly prickling out your eyes as your heart was open to him. 

Gwindor looked at you with shock and surprise. 

“I do not expect you to return my feelings. I just wanted to tell them rather than hide them and regret never telling them,” you added, waiting for his reaction. 

“Even If I made foolish decisions and became this…” Gwindor motioned his scars and missing hand. 

“I have never been one to care about looks. You might have lost a hand or been scarred by the dark lord, but you never lost your love and kindness. I can still see in your eyes,” you said as you caressed his face. 

Gwindor leaned into your hand, placing his remaining hand on top of yours.

“To think I was this fool not to notice this..” Gwindor uttered with his eyes closed as he enjoyed the warmth of your hand that nearly felt like a gentle candle flame. 

“If I have said something earlier. Would you have perhaps accepted me?” you asked. 

“You stood by me, even when Finduilas lost her affection for me. Perhaps it has always been possible to fall in love for the second time. My answer is yes,” Gwindor answered, and for a moment, you felt your heart be lifted from the sorrow. 

Then the dreaded horn sang, indicating it was time to march. 

You two looked at each other one final time. His eyes held sorrow, yet familiar warmth as he gently took your hand away from him. 

“I must go now… If the Valars will take pity on us. They will allow us to meet again in the future,” Gwindor said and you then watched him leave. 

You did not want to let him go, but you did nothing and watched as he left with your father and his supposed human friend. You wished you could have even the smallest specks of faith or hope that winning was possible. However, fate was unkind as the dragon and his orcish armies were the ones to return. 

[barefoot-inthewildestwinter]

Make your tea and your toast (part 1)

A/N: This is my first fic ever and also I am new to Criminal Minds as well! I'll work on this story for awhile and I will update warnings at the beginning of each chapter :) I hope to maybe start writing one-shots based on something like taylor swift songs!

Title: Make your tea and your toast

Summary: If he played his cards close to his chest, she never picked hers up. Emily's past slowly catches up to her and he realizes just how little he knows about her.

Word count: 3.7k

Ratings: Mature, eventually

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, SA, abortion, pregnancy and teen pregnancy, and violence.

January 2007

Nevada

He caught a glimpse of her in the rear-view mirror. Her chin was digging into the pale, bony wrist resting against the car door. She had rolled the window down, allowing rural air to fill the empty space. They were stopped at a light. She was staring straight ahead. Eyes fixed on the skyline and the moon glowing back onto them. Most of her hair was still tucked back in a distressed ponytail. Wild brown strands blew around her face, doing their best to cover her expressions. He spent a breath trying to decipher the faint wrinkles across her face. Her nose slightly scrunched, lips pressed together, brow unfurrowed. She didn’t appear sad, or mad, just… disappointed. A fair position to take, he would concede. They had let Frank go. They had handed him Jane. Maybe they would have found the school children on their own. Their safety had been used to justify his release, it had been the right call. He was sure of it, or at least he was sure enough. They had to let Frank go. He was certain she would challenge this if he brought it up. Not to argue that  it was the wrong call, but to question why it had been the right one, why it had to be the only choice. 

 It had been a silent drive, with Morgan tuned into the radio for updates on basketball games, occasionally commenting on the Bulls- a playful attempt to get a rise out of him. Prentiss had been nonverbal well before she climbed into the back seat. Passively nodding at the suggestion that the team head back to the hotel before venturing out for dinner. Sulking behind him closely and waiting for the side door to unlock, pulling the handle after every beep.  Though she was new to the team, she had always returned to her supportive, outgoing state fairly soon after a case, shelving the unfaltering, driven Agent Prentiss, FBI until the next call. It was unusual for her to not press them to pick a restaurant to meet at, or to not offer to buy them drinks at some bar, or to brush past Morgan and Reid to get into his SUV. He may have paid it more attention if her actions had been inconsistent with the group's energy. He didn’t see himself starting a conversation with either of them, and that was okay.

Morgan looked up from the console to paw at his phone. “Garcia, baby. Please tell me you are up to no good tonight.” On the other end, Garcia’s words were incoherent to him. Given the nature of their conversations in the office, he thinks that maybe he should count his blessings. “No, no. We’re almost back to the motel. We’re getting dinner later. Not my choice.” Staring at the road ahead, he catches snippets of Morgan’s conversation. “...Hotch and Prentiss. Reid went with Gideon in the other car. You know we couldn’t have Reid up in here killing the mood… Babygirl, you should just be glad that we are nowhere near Vegas.” He does hear Garcia comment on how lonely it is to never be there for the team dinners when they are away. “Alright, sugar, get to bed at a reasonable hour. Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell them. Goodnight, princess. I love you too.”

 Jack, he winced. When he got back to his room, he would have to call Jack and Haley. He eyed the clock. 7:48. It was past 9:30 for them. Jack would be asleep, and Haley may very well be too. That was probably for the best. He would leave another voicemail, a preemptive ‘Good morning,’ an apology for missing another ‘Goodnight,’ and a reminder to her to lock the doors before bed.  At least this way, the message would be uninterrupted by his wife’s frustration. Something he couldn’t fault her for, but he didn’t have the energy to apologize for tonight. 

He found trouble justifying his actions to Haley, particularly while trying to keep her and Jack far from this world. He did everything in his power to make sure that they would never have to see a frame of what he saw, and he prayed that they would never be pulled into a case. He hoped to rid the country of as much danger as possible so that they could live freely, without worry of things he could not help but picture any time they left the house. He also understood what his absence meant to Haley. How much she had to do on her own, not just with Jack. He had made sure to pick up the lion’s share of the work when he was home, cooking, cleaning, chores. He knew it wouldn’t always be enough. That’s why when she suggested that they have another baby, he was a little taken aback. He knows that he shouldn’t have been. Jack is over a year old now, Haley is 35, and he has loved her for almost two decades. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel strange about it. They surely couldn’t bring another child into their house and go back to fighting over his work. Her position wouldn’t change if they had two kids, and he’s not sure that he can give her what she needs. Not after this case. Besides, she had only brought it up twice since then, and it hadn’t taken them long to get pregnant with Jack. He tries to push the thought of Frank out of his mind, separating his home life from his current one.  

He finds his gaze drifting back to Prentiss in the mirror again. She’s still stuck on the same thought. This time he notices more of her. Her necklace, her eyelashes, her vest still on. That cannot be comfortable. He lets out a small smile. Her fingers lightly pressed a tune into the leather seat. As their SUV pulled into the hotel, Hotch found himself pleased by the trust that had been forged between Prentiss and himself since she had joined the team a few months ago. It wasn’t unusual, and it certainly wasn’t anything much, but it was progress. For a moment, he feels awful for his treatment of her during her first cases in the unit. He knows she caught tension from almost everyone on the team. Gideon fed off of his distrust, his claim that she had arrived in his office due to anything other than her merits. Morgan, suspicious of anyone joining the BAU, and Reid, following their example. Even JJ had feigned contempt for Prentiss for a week or so. Someone new, so soon after Elle’s departure, they had reason to take pause, but not to completely ice her out.  Really, he is grateful for her staying with the team after that. And she had been useful. More so than he expected her to be. She was fluent in over five languages. She was an excellent shot, a quick thinker, and her dedication to the case was unmatched. It was as if any personal hang ups or feelings were controlled by a switch that she could turn off in a blink. This didn’t stop her from being a constant source of support. She was always ready to  empathize with the team, the families, or the unsubs, like it was second nature to her. She was able to gain trust effortlessly. He’d like to believe that his trust took some effort. 

His amusement quickly shriveled when it met with the heaviness of the warm air. After separate car rides, Reid and Morgan immediately revived their bickering about dinner plans. By the time they finally compromise on a place, with encouragement from Hotch, the last shreds of comradery are taut.  Gideon will just go back to his room, he says, citing exhaustion. Hotch collects his takeout order while walking towards  the fire escape. Prentiss nods, “I’m just going to go back to my room, as well. Long day.” Reid frowns at this, but doesn’t say anything back. “Stay out of trouble boys.” She winks at him. It was at them really, but he feels it burn on his skin. 

He’s back in the driver’s seat when Morgan asks if there is something they can get to bring her back. Hotch catches her head shaking in the rear view mirror once more, watching her stumble off into the distance. He knows that she’s being withholding, but after the day they have had, he knows better than to probe that right now. 

Reid climbs into her empty seat in the back. “It smells weird in here.” He says, loudly taking deep breaths through his nose. Morgan turns to look at him, “It’s called perfume, Reid. If you ever got within six feet of a girl, you might know that, genius.” Morgan slides his thumb across his nose. Reid pouts in response, “Well, now I don’t want to go.” “Too late, you picked the restaurant, you don’t get to bail on us now.” They fight like children for miles. “I can still make both of you get out and walk.” That pacifies them for the rest of the ride.

Dinner was more pleasant than he predicted. It seemed that they all had needed some food in their system to treat hypoglycemic angst. Talking and laughing about nothing, teaching Reid to throw darts. Hotch couldn’t remember feeling so light after a case like this, even though it was momentary. On the way back, Morgan joins Reid in the back, allowing him to rest his head on his shoulder and doze off. Oh, god, he thought. I already have two kids. They brought Gideon’s meal and some extra boxes to offer Prentiss. He parks the car, grabbing the takeout in one arm. Morgan startles awake, distancing himself before hopping out. “Want me to carry you?” He extends his hand to Reid, who takes offense and climbs out of the other side door. “Hey Hotch, are you doing bed checks tonight?” His laugh is sincere. “No, but Gideon will do a head count at 1.” He lets them go on ahead, saying their goodnights before they split off. “Garcia loves you!” He hears Morgan call down the veranda. Gideon takes his food with a brief thank you and a goodnight. Hotch can see the files strewn in the background, all of the lamps giving the room an amber hue.  “For Prentiss?” he points to the remaining boxes. Hotch nods. “Did she say anything to you?” Gideon says no, she had taken the stairs and hadn’t left her room since they got back, to his knowledge, but he wasn’t tracking her. “Everything okay with her?” He just sighs. “Is anything ever okay with us?” Knowing that Gideon would be wanting to get back to his paperwork now, he leaves quickly.

He passes a few doors before stopping at hers. He can hear her on the other side, footsteps pacing the length of the room. Without thinking, he grabs the handle.  He raises his hand to knock, catching the time on his wrist. 11:18. He hears the footsteps stop instantly and she slowly moves closer to the door. Realizing what he has done, he clears his throat. “Prentiss, it’s Hotch.” There’s a deep, shaky breath, and then the chain slides off. 

“You’d think a supervisory federal agent would know how to knock on a door without acting like a creep.” She moves into the doorway. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t … uh, I wasn’t thinking.” He stumbles across his sentence, scanning her appearance. She’d traded the vest and slacks for a pair of black athletic shorts and a well loved Yale sweatshirt. “We brought you back some food. I know you said you weren’t hungry, but it’s been a long day and I don’t recall you joining us for breakfast.” She looks up at him. She’s shorter without heels on, he thinks. “It’s just a salad and some fries. Morgan seemed to think that would be okay.” She beams back at him. Her face is bare, and yet her wide eyes are still decorated with long, thick lashes. She is smiling big, which causes his lips to concede a smirk. “Oh, this is great. Thank you.” The light catches the wet black hair clinging to her neck, revealing wet marks at the top of her sweater. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you be. Goodnight.” He goes to turn when he sees her shiver and fixate her gaze at his feet. He feels all of the concern he’s had for her all day rush to churn in his stomach. “Prentiss? I’m in the next room, if you need anything.” He pauses to make sure she detects the earnestness in his words. She looks back up at him, meeting his stare. “I know. Goodnight Hotch.” She closes the door behind him, leaving him alone in the cold air. When he falls back into his bed, it’s 11:30. This will definitely be a voicemail.

He keeps his message short and sweet. He’ll call them in the morning, before wheels up. It’s more of a pacifier for himself than a promise to them. The pacing continues in the distance, it becomes louder the more he concentrates on it. After a while, he finds it soothing enough to drift off to. 

Hotch is awake again when he hears the door slam. Someone outside scurries along the corridor until they reach his room. He sees her through the hole in the door. Her arms wrapped around herself, she bites a nail and then her lower lip. She’s trying to work up the strength to knock, to ask for him. 3:30. He sighs and  groggily throws his brown pullover on and opens the door to nothing but the chill. Confused, he shuts the door and tries to wander after her. 

“Prentiss. Prentiss?” It comes out as more of a hiss as he creeps along the walkway. “Prentiss?” He finds her sitting on the steps of the fire escape, her bare knees buried into her chest. He calls after her once more, making himself known. “Prentiss, it’s Hotch.” She looks up, nodding her nose to the empty space next to her. He understands and sits down. “Hey,” he offers. She doesn’t turn to face him. “We made the right call today. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but we didn’t have a choice.”

 “But how can you know that?” She shoots back, regret pouring in immediately. Her next words sound shaky. “I know we got the children back, I know that.” Her head lifts out of her hands. “But Jane is a person. She’s a victim. She’s his victim, we literally handed her to him and let them ride off into the sunset.” Her voice strained. “I know.” “Anything that happens to her, anything that Frank does to anyone, is on us.” His hand grazes her thigh as he readjusts his leg.

“When I was a prosecutor, one of the worst feelings was when really bad people walked free because they received more compassion and leniency  from the system than their victims. When we fail, we fail victims. We give them no closure, no justice, we tell them that all of their suffering is unimportant. We give them reason to doubt the people that are supposed to help them.” Emily asks how long he practiced as a prosecutor. He replies, a couple of years, after law school. Mostly criminal cases, sexual assault, homicide, child abuse. He never felt like he was doing enough, he was always too late, it nearly destroyed him.

“Why do we fail them though? Sure, sometimes it’s inevitable. But we fail too often.” He is a bit surprised by the raw emotion in her rambling. “We can’t protect everyone, sometimes we fail to uncover the truth until it's too late.” He searches her eyes for hints of what specifically is eating at her. “Do you think it’s a failure due to inability or inconvenience?” He ponders her question for a moment. “What do you mean?” She laughs once. “I mean, if we see the truth and we find it to be inconvenient. We don’t like the way it looks, what stops us from just ignoring it altogether?” He shoots her a look that says, ‘We aren’t the bad guys.’ “Maybe not. But we just as well could be.” She shifts her weight, sitting up straighter.

“Just look at what happened in Chicago. A man was allowed to abuse and murder little boys for decades and no one batted an eye because ‘He was a pillar of the community, an outstanding man.’ And as if that wasn’t enough, they went after Derek with almost no thought. They saw what they wanted to and ignored what they didn’t. It didn’t matter who got hurt.” He places his hand on the middle of her back. Thumb on her spine, his fingers stay just below her shoulder blade. An awkward attempt to comfort her. She exhales deeply but doesn’t jerk away. He thinks back to a few weeks ago, when he had caught her looking out for Morgan on the trip home from Chicago. Giving him space from a calculated distance, bringing him tea and a new book for the plane, offering to buy him a drink when they got home. He didn’t think much of it then. Just Prentiss being Prentiss, offering comfort and exuding resilience to the team after a particularly brutal case. Now, he wonders if there was meaning behind her actions deeper than a desire to be accepted by them.

She’s staring, fixated on his lips now. He spots a paper cup clutched in her left hand. “It’s just water,” she says. “Not that I couldn’t use a drink right about now.” Her wide eyes pout playfully at him, make me a drink. She lifts the cup, tilting it towards him, he declines. Prentiss cracks a smile, turning her head to face the neon motel sign. “It’s past 4:00, did you get any rest?” She bites her lower lip again. “Yeah, some.” It’s a lie, he can hear the exhaustion in her throat. He glares at her. “Fine, no, not really. I usually don’t though.” He frowns, “When do you sleep?” Her answer baffles him. She tells him that if she sleeps, it’s from 2:00 to 5:00 am, but that she naps often on the jet. He lets out a breath but it comes out as a shaky laugh. “If?” He’s looking at her with pity. His hand is resting on the step behind her back now. His words spill out softly, “Oh, Emily. That’s no good.” As soon as he says it, awkwardness fills the air. He rarely says her first name alone, he hasn’t felt close enough to her to use it. He holds his breath waiting for her to say something. Thankfully for him, she brushes right past it, setting her hand on his knee. “Oh, believe me, I’m aware.” He doesn’t move, his focus centered on her face, composed and unfazed. “Prentiss, do you ever get nightmares?” 

“Don’t we all?” She tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear, revealing a pearl earring. “Occupational hazard.” In her periphery, she can see his face teem with concern. Through teeth, she forces her next words out. “All the time, sir. Sometimes even before I fall asleep.”

“Tonight?” he asks, lowering his voice to a whisper, she nods. “It’s okay to have them, you know. There’s nothing wrong with you. We see and think about things that no one should ever have to witness. We put ourselves in danger nearly every day. It would be concerning if it didn’t get to you.” Her grip on his knee tightens. “The important thing to know is that you’re not alone in this. You are safe tonight. I’m here, Morgan is here, Gideon and Reid are here.” She turns her face into her shoulder for a second and he swears he hears her sniffle. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself, Hotch.” 

“I know that you are. I’m just saying that you don't have to be. Whether or not you believe me, you’re a member of this team, not a supporter.” The breeze splashes their skin. It feels nice, sobering them up. “I bet that you’re a really good dad, Hotch. That was nice. Are you going to read me a bedtime story now?” He fails to fend off the smirk from his face. “No, but I will walk you back to your room, wheels up in 90.” She groans as they rise, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head. “This is a good look on you.” Her cheeks match the rosiness of her nose as she studies the lines on his face. “Well honestly, Hotch, I would have put money on you not owning a pair of sweats.”

She expects him to wait at the door, to make sure she hasn't locked herself out.  But to her surprise he comes in, watches as she slips her boots off and flings them across the room before falling onto the bed. When she's safely under a blanket, he turns out the light. He hears a muffled thank you followed by more tired ramblings as he’s drawn back to the moonlight. “Hotch?” His hand clutches the lock, “Yes?” “It’s okay if you call me Emily, anytime you want.”

Shutting the door, he smiles to himself. Talking to her had felt so easy, even so, he was still intrigued by her. Between his evening with Reid and Morgan and his twilight conversation with Prentiss, he found himself much lighter. Though they would all carry this loss with them until they crossed paths with Frank again, for now, he felt peace. Something he rarely let himself feel while at work. He really needed to go to bed. 

“Goodnight, Emily.”

[c4t1l1n4]

So I wrote a quick little short fic about THIS cute comic by @uhuraborealis. I wrote it just now in like 10 minutes so it's not edited, but you can read it under the cut!

Vulcans Tell No Lies

Spock knows that when Jim approaches him with a look like that, nothing good is going to come of it.

“Spock,” Jim asks, voice full of wonder and eyes full of stars. “Can you meld with the Enterprise? Tell her I love her?”

Spock considers the captain for a moment. It’s not something he’s thought about—mind-melding with a ship. He doesn’t really think that anything would happen, as much as he’s touched the console and felt nothing in response. He knows that humans refer to ships as female and often personify them out of loneliness or a need for bonding. He doesn’t understand why humans can’t just appreciate a machine for the tasks it performs, but seeing as much as Dr. McCoy tries to project his human emotions on Spock himself, he supposes that it must just be second nature to them.

He indulges in a more human tendency, seeing as it was just him and Jim, and sighs. It cannot hurt to try, if not for the very least on the premise of scientific discovery, and it’s not like there’s anyone around to judge him.

“Fine.” He agrees rather bluntly, but Jim just looks at him, enthralled.

Spock supposes, as he places a hand on the console, that he can always lie for the sake of appeasing Jim. Vulcans do not lie, but as McCoy always points out, Spock is only half-vulcan, and half-vulcans can bend the truth. 

However, as he reaches out for what he can find of the consciousness of the Enterprise, he finds that he has no reason to lie. He is so caught off guard by the discovery as some form of being reaches back towards him, that he is overwhelmed by the experience.

The Enterprise does not think in the same way, with clear structure, intent, or words. No, she thinks with colors and emotions, bright and loud, filling up his senses. She is overwhelmingly a she, and she imparts him with the notion that she will tolerate nothing less from him, even if it means zapping him through the console like a misbehaving child.

He supposes that might be the best way to describe the way she feels about the crew—as children. They are all so much smaller than her, and she cares for them, treating them as gently as she can. In return, they treat her with love and respect and keep her in working order. If Dr. McCoy would stop hitting the biobed display screens when he was frustrated, she would appreciate that, though.

After taking a moment to reign the sensory flood back in, Spock organizes his mind and sends a specific train of thought to her. The words do not translate to her, so he tries to phrase them in a way she would understand, thinking of command gold, bright eyes, and a happy spirit. He focuses on the general sense of cheer, well-being, and concern that Jim carries for every member of his crew, but also on the horribly mushy feeling Spock gets on the inside when thinking about him.

Color ripples across his vision, something like laughter, and he thinks she gets the point. The reply he gets in return is what he sent tenfold—a tidal wave of things he could not possibly put into words and yet understands perfectly. He thanks her, sending a bright wave of gratitude radiating warmly from deep inside him, and pulls away.

He opens his eyes and looks over to Jim, who is waiting patiently. Curiosity and excitement dance in his eyes. There is no possible way to convey what he experienced in what felt like hours but was probably only seconds, so instead he says, “She loves you back.”

When Jim beams at him, smile wide and eyes glistening, Spock is glad it is no lie at all.

[sandbees]

A few about the Great Seven interacting with Twisted Wonderland characters VIA Yuu. 👀 I only have one word summary; Chaos.

Who would meet the Great Seven first? Obviously the first years (along with Ortho and Grim). They’re Yuu’s best friends after all.

Actually, it was Friday, the last day of the week. And coincidentally, that night would be a special night at the House of Mouse. Ariel and her sisters would be performing that night.

Mickey told Yuu that that they could invite anyone to watch the performance. So Yuu went to get special permission to take their friends along with them.

After kidnapping Ortho After Yuu gathers everyone, they explain that they’re going out to see a special performance at their workplace.

Keep in mind that no one knows exactly what Yuu’s new job was except Grim and Crowley. So naturally everyone was in on it and curious. (Only Grim knows about Yuu meeting the Great Seven though)

Ace: So where do you work at?

Yuu: I work at a club.

Epel: ...As in a strip club or a book club?

Yuu: Wtf Epel? It’s like a club but no alcohol. It’s technically a restaurant but they have live shows and put on a lot of performances so-

Deuce: Oh! That’s cool, we get to see it together!

Yuu: Actually I’m not going to be with you guys. I’m on duty that day so I’ll be waiting tables. But I’ll join during break.

Ace: Really? Bummer.

Ortho: Aw, I wanted to hang out with you too! But it will be fun nonetheless. :D

Yuu tells them to wait downstairs as they go upstairs to get everything ready.

They are low-key nervous, because the House of Mouse isn’t...exactly normal by Twisted Wonderland standards.

Meanwhile, Grim was telling the first years about Yuu’s experiences there.

Grim: You know, the House of Mouse is really popular, I’ve heard about a lot of customers Yuu has met.

Deuce: This job must have been hard...I’m glad Yuu got it though!

Grim: Yeah, they pay them 5,000 madol! Isn’t that great?!

Sebek: 5,000 madol?! That’s a lot more than being a waiter.

Ace: In a week? I mean having a salary of 5,000 is pretty impressive.

Grim: Hehe, it’s actually 5,000 a day.

First Years: WHAT?!

Jack: To be able to pay that much...the owner must be wealthy.

Epel: Yuu lucked out!

When Yuu comes down, the first years are asking a billion questions.

How did you find a job with such a high pay??? Is the work good?? Is your boss nice to you?? Explain everything-

Yuu assured them that their job is just waiting a bunch of tables, and that they’re payed well because the place is very popular.

Anyways, Yuu tells them that they’re going now and leads them upstairs.

“Shouldn’t we be going to the hall of mirrors-?” “It won’t work.”

The group kind of loses their mind as Yuu casually pushes Ace into their mirror, Grim follows behind.

“Come on, or do I have to push you through the mirror like I did with Ace?”

Safe to say is that they go through the mirror and are greeted with a very lavish dressing room.

“Wait woah this isn’t Mickey’s dressing room.”

Yuu finds a note and read it out loud. Apparently Mickey moved the mirror to a new room so they could have privacy. Anything in the room is for their use.

“I’m going to cry. He’s so nICE I DON’T DESERVE THIS-“

Yuu is pretty happy with this arrangement, actually. They also begin to explain the club’s shtick to their friends.

“So this is basically a club for entertainment with live shows and also cartoons on the screen. Oh, and sometimes a cat named Pete tries to sabotage the show so he can kick everyone out and make this his club.” “Isn’t that illegal-“ “Not if there’s no police.”

So anyways Yuu leads them outside and they run into Goofy.

Sebek: Is that-?

Yuu: Hi Goofy, I’m bringing my friends to a table for the show-

Goofy: Yuu! There you are! You’re needed at table 14.

Yuu: What? But my shift hasn’t started-

Goofy: Reservations from Hades himself.

Yuu: Oh shit, ok yeah I’ll be there as soon as possible-

Ortho: Hades? As in the God of the Underworld?

Yuu: Yes, I’ll explain later, more importantly let’s go find you a table.

Ace: I think not telling us you actually met one of the GREAT SEVEN!

Yuu: I did tell you; and you didn’t believe me.

Everyone is vibrating in nervousness and excitement. Especially Ortho. I mean, this is the GREAT SEVEN we’re talking about!

Yuu decides to introduce them to Hades. But surprise surprise, it’s all of the Great Seven!

Yuu’s first year friends are going to pass out from shock. Oof.

With some inquiry, Yuu explains to the Great Seven that the friends they brought were from Twisted Wonderland.

Let’s just say that the First Years got invited to sit at their table. (Sebek is quaking at the idea of sitting with the Witch of Thorns)

So while Yuu leaves to start work (not after taking all of their orders first, of course), the Great Seven begin asking the first years + Grim questions.

The first years are expectantly tense, but they loosen up.

Ursula and Jafar are a little disappointed that no one from their dorm is present, but they seem to easily forget that after Yuu tells them that they know people from their respective dorms anyways.

Yuu also gives them a little more information they found about their respective dorms, so that they don’t feel...left out? (Satisfied is a better word for it)

Ursula pets Grim and Jafar feeds him crackers. Grim does not complain, he’s fine. He becomes more compliant as his tuna arrives.

And some of the other’s thoughts? Well...

The Queen of Hearts almost blew up in anger at Ace and Deuce. They are idiots that do nOT KNOW THE PROPER WAY TO SPEAK TO THEIR SUPERIORS AND THEY HAVE BROKEN AT LEAST 359 RULES ALREADY-

But somehow, the Queen of Hearts warms up to the idiotic duo. She sees them as...annoying children she has to babysit but they’re also really adorable that she can’t stay mad at them forever. Plus, Deuce is trying and Ace has these wonderful card tricks that would make her Jester cry.

So at first, she does not approve, but as the night progresses she does. 8/10 would meet the ADeuce combo again.

Scar and Jack...hm. Well, I don’t think they’d get along of Scar’s sense of morality and justice of the past was brought up. However, the villains all agreed to not bring up their villainous past because they didn’t want to scare away Yuu/make them wary and distrustful of them. Same goes for the first years.

Anyways, Scar is impressed at how buff Jack is. He isn’t surprised though - he expected residents of his dorm to be powerful. Scar lays down some well deserved praise and Jack eats it up with a tail wag. Jack also talks about his dorm and what the dorm represents. Scar’s ego rises 100x and Scar becomes somewhat...egotistical. Well, maybe not like in a “I’m shoving my ego in your face” type of ego but in a “This pleases me and I will treat you kinder” ego.

Basically, Scar opens up a little more to Jack as the night progresses. Like a mentor/student bond.

The Evil Queen and Epel...well, the Evil Queen was quite picky with how Epel was acting. Yes, he had the proper posture but really, he was using the wrong forks to eat that particular kind of food. She expected better from someone who came from her dorm. So she ended up chastising him and scolding him for being “improper”. Like Vil.

She was shocked to say when Epel accidentally snapped back at her, before returning to his more “princely” persona. Ah, so the child had more than meets the eye. She tried a different approach, as in trying to ease Epel into talking to her. Certainly, Epel was much more headstrong and willful than that naive Snow White.

So, the Evil Queen and Epel have a rocky start, but by the end of the show.

Hades and Ortho...well, that’s a combo you never see everyday. But I think Hades would basically adopt Ortho. As in suddenly he gets father vibes from the kid. He’s also particularly interested in his own dorm, and asks Ortho about it. Ortho’s pretty chatty with Hades, and is happy to tell Hades about his dorm! He also asks a few questions himself; which Hades happily obliged to.

...and then it turns into Ortho talking about Idia and how wonderful he is. And Hades is like, “damn, this kid has a wonderful big brother. How come my younger siblings act like shit to me-“

So Hades silently swore to the River of Styx to keep this child safe, and Ortho had a fun time interacting with Hades!

Sebek and Maleficent...well, it could have been worse.

Poor Sebek was tense and tight lipped for most of the night. He really wanted to make a good impression on Malleus’ grandmother. (I don’t think Sebek has met Maleficent yet so-)

Maleficent was patient, however. She knew Fae kind were raised to think of Maleficent as a high authority figure that should be treated with upmost respect. Unlike the other kingdoms; the Valley of Thorns praised Maleficent like a goddess. She didn’t blame Sebek for acting like he was.

So she started with baby steps. Talking about how wonderful it was to meet her grandson’s bodyguard, how Malleus must have grown to be a strong magician, how she wished she had stayed to know more about her grandson.

Actually, the breaking point between the tense atmosphere between the two was Malleus. Sebek opens up a little more as he continues to talk to Maleficent.

At the end of the night, they’ve only talked about Malleus, but Maleficent was content with that. After all, keeping up with what her grandson was doing was more than enough.

By the end of the night, the First Years enjoyed the special performance and their time with the Great Seven. Things went well especially when Yuu came to join during their break.

So when it was time to go, everyone had happily said their goodbyes as they were ready to return.

“Oh, before I forget...Yuu, I have almost completed the portals for the others so do expect one of us to pop in soon.” “Oh, ok!” “...THEY MIGHT VISIT US?!”

Everyone is low key excited to meet again though.

So, the first years go through the mirror and stay at Ramshackle, chatting away at their time at the House of Mouse.

_=_

Yeah, this was a looonngg write, I’m actually going to do the rest of the TW cast in another post. I hope you enjoyed this one! :)

[shewrites02]

Gone Too Long |Shikamaru x Reader|

Summary: Not having his partner around begins to toll on Shikamaru

Word count: 3k

Lady Tsunade was assigning weekly chores to all the Shinobi who had yet to be assigned a mission. Usually these tasks were reserved for Genin, but this week had been slow for the village. Many Chunin and Jonin were left task less aimlessly patrolling the village.

"Shikamaru, you'll assist Iruka at the Academy for the remainder of the week."

Shikamaru let out a long dreadful sigh before muttering "What a drag, that's so much work." Just above his breath.

Shikamaru complaining was not out of the ordinary, but him complaining in front of the Fifth Hokage was and everyone took notice. Lady Tsunade slowly looked up from her journal with her eyebrow slightly raised. She was offering Shikamaru a chance to apologize before she completely ripped into him like she often did with Naruto. But all he did was smack his lips and cross his arms against his chest.

"Forgive him Lady Tsunade, he gets like this whenever y/n is gone on a mission." Ino announced proudly as a devilish smile graced her lips.

The other ninjas futilely tried to suppress their laughter but soon the whole room erupted into a uncontrollable fit. Even Lady Tsunade's scowl had turned into a humorous smile. Shikamaru's face began to turn beat red as his fellow shinobi teased him.

"So that explains his nasty attitude this whole week. Me and Akamaru knew there was something up with you!" Kiba laughed after Akamaru barked, agreeing.

"I bet his attitude will change once he gets some... special attention" Tenten snickered.

This even warranted a light chuckle from the stoned face Shino Aburame.

"Special... Attention?" Naruto mumbled completely lost. as usual he wasn't paying any attention and the joke had gone completely over his head. Kiba leaned over and explained the joke as clearly as he could. It took Naruto probably a full minute before he caught on and laughed with the rest of them.

Shikamaru grumbled under his breath, but didn't argue. As much as he hated to admit it to his friends, not having you around severely impacted his day to day interactions. He was constantly irritated because he didn't get as much sleep with you gone. The side of the bed where you usually reside seemed like a gaping hole with you not there, and no matter how much tossing and turning he did he was never comfortable.

He was frustrated that he couldn't come home to you after a long day of working with idiots. Even if you did nothing but tell him to give his teammates a break he missed the sound of your voice soothing him. He missed laying in your arms while you lectured that not everybody was a genius like him. At this point he would settle for your hands just gracing his.

And most of all he was distracted by the crippling fear that one of these days you might not come home to him. Shikamaru undoubtedly knew that you could handle yourself. Yall had spared a couple times and you'd come close to beating him more than once. But the idea of not being there to protect you often left him feeling helpless.

With these thoughts constantly running through his mind, it was difficult to focus on the seemingly mundane tasks he was often given. To be honest the only times he wasn't thinking of you was when he was on his own missions, and even then his thoughts were reserved for keeping his squad alive and staying alive himself specifically to see you again.

"Well you'll be glad to know she's coming back today, I'll be expecting you to be in a better mood tomorrow!" Lady Tsunade teased before shushing the crowd and returning to give out assignments.

-

Just as Shikamaru had thought working at the academy was the exact mindless work he dreaded so much. They could've put him with the younger children, given him a challenge, well at least that's what he thought. Instead he supervised a group of kids around the ages of 9 to 11. These children were no stranger to Shikamaru or his legacy, actually any shinobi rumored to have amazing talent or great potential was a topic of discussion amongst the children in the academy. The stories they've heard of Shikamaru and the Nara clan as a whole were impressive enough to earn their respect. In fear of potentially earning themselves a bad name with someone they could possibly call their squad leader once graduating, They gave Shikamaru absolutely no problems.

"Shikamaru Sensei... is it true you forfeited your last match in the Chunin exams?!" A little boy shouted across the blacktop as he and a large number of his classmates came rushing towards the lazy uninterested ninja.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I told you, Idiot!" A young girl exclaimed, hitting the previous boy in the back of the head with a scroll she had. "He was running out of Chakra and knew he couldn't finish the fight!"

The young girl's confident proclamation surprised Shikamaru. Every ninja in the village knew the story, but very few knew the reasoning behind his actions. Usually the only ones who accurately recounted the story were those who saw the match with their own eyes.

"Who told you that?" Shikamaru inquired.

"Y/n Sensei told our whole class the story the last time she came to the academy, had all of us try to figure out why you'd throw a match that you practically had won. She said it's her favorite story to tell students who are about to graduate."

"Yeah she said it's still the most amazing match she's watched during the Chunin exams, even now!"

"She told us that if we wanna be half the ninja you are, we always have to be thinking two steps ahead."

Shikamaru couldn't stop that infamous smirk from creeping onto his face. He loved hearing that you spoke to your class about him, that you even bragged about how talented he was, even if it was to a bunch of children. You admired him not only for the person he is, but the ninja he's become and that was a great honor to Shikamaru.

"Look, it's y/n Sensei, she's back from her mission!" The little girl from before yelled pointing over at the village's entrance. All the children fervently yelled your name in a vain attempt to get your attention. The academy laid on hill that allowed them to peer down at the entire village, though they could see you, you could not see them.

Shikamaru acting as if he too were one of your students rushed to the fence to see if they were correct, if finally the love of his life had returned home. Sure enough right alongside Kakashi and Tsume there you were. Your smile is as bright as ever despite having a few minor scrapes and bruises. Butterflies filled the pit of Shikamaru's stomach and what was just a sly smirk had turned into a full blown smile, teeth and all. He's heart fluttered, but skipped a beat at the same time it was like he had seen you for the first time.

"Go ahead, class is wrapping up anyway!" Iruka whispered over to him.

Shikamaru was stunned, he was so entranced by the sight of you he was completely ignorant to his surroundings. For the first time since he graduated from the Academy he had let Iruka sneak up on him. Your being gone had even a greater hold on him than he initially thought. He needed to see you right now.

He thankfully patted Iruka on his back before darting off toward the exit. He knew you'd first go to Ichirkau Ramen to pick up dinner for the two of you, a tradition set in place to celebrate a successful mission. So if he could move quick enough he could make it to the flower shop and back to the apartment the two of you shared before you. He did not want a cold empty uninviting apartment to be what greeted you once you returned home, especially after seeing you had endured wounds while on your mission. Honestly he didn't want you to have to worry about a thing.

Once he fumbled into the door, he immediately began to prepare for your arrival. He lit every candle he could find and arranged them around the perimeter of the bathroom while the water for a hot bath drew. He even went as far as to place rose petals in the water. Something he never understood but knew you would appreciate. When that was handled he placed one of his t-shirts on the counter and dimmed the lights. He could hear your footsteps approaching down the hall.

His nonchalant nature made it absolutely impossible for him to display any type of excitement or anticipation willingly. Due to this he sprinted back to living snatching up a book that was left on the coffee table and pretended to read it as you walked into the room.

He lowered the book just below his nose being careful to conceal the wide tooth smile he had behind those pages.

"You're home." He announced very casually.

You laughed. He never exceeded those two words when it came to welcoming you back, never a "I missed you" or "I'm so excited to see you" always those two words. When you first started dating such a dull response hurt your feelings, you wanted him to be jumping for joy to see you. Now the promise of hearing those two words was the primary motivation in completing your missions.

"And look, ramen!" You squealed slightly shaking the bag.

Shikamaru glanced over at the bag then returned his gaze to his book. You scoffed slightly offended, this was your favorite part of coming home, pigging out on loads of ramen after eating forest food for a week. Shikamaru knew this! He'd let you recite the details of your mission to him while he attentively listened, it was when you explained all the scrapes and bruises you inevitably always returned with.

"Go get cleaned up so we can eat." He demanded eyes still glued to that stupid book.

Your face fell, that childish giddy smile now wiped clean away. Shikamaru had never had a problem sharing at least a quick meal with you before you hopped in the shower. You were well aware of the toll half a day's walk had on one's body, but was this your boyfriend's crude way of telling you, you smelled. You sat the ramen on the dining room table not bothering to suppress the pout on your face.

Shikamaru got a glimpse of your expression out the side of his eye and immediately felt guilty. Perhaps there was a better way of getting you in the bathroom to see his surprise for you. One that hadn't made you feel so self conscious or small. For such a genius he made some stupid mistakes.

He placed his book on the coffee table to meet you in the kitchen. Bypassing the food he snuck behind you, creeping his arms around your waist before planting a small soft kiss on your cheek. Shikamaru snuggled his head into your neck before speaking.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so crass." He mumbled against your skin. "But I do have a surprise for you in the bathroom."

You perked up at the mention of a surprise. A wide grin sneaking on your lips as the scowl you held earlier dissipated. Shikamaru had always been a thoughtful boyfriend even if he was so coy in his interactions with you. He'd fill the apartment with roses for your anniversary , then downplay the extravagant act when you walked in the door. He once planned an entire surprise birthday party for you just to spend the entire night proclaiming he barely did anything. You were excited to see what considerate display your partner had put together this time.

You let out a small gasp as you walked into the romantically decorated bathroom. The dim candles created such a relaxed yet intimate ambiance to the entire space. You chuckled some at the rose petals. Despite the countless lectures both you and Ino had received on how pointless it was to pick the petals off of roses when a person could simply just give their partner a bouquet of roses, he still included them in your warm bath.

"Shika... you didn't have to do all this."

"It was nothing." He reassured disregarding the full speed sprint from the academy to the Yamanaka flower shop, then to the apartment. "Here let me help you."

Shikamaru assisted you in removing your garments. He knew how even the smallest tasks could bring out the failure's in your body after such a long mission. Something as simple as slipping out of a pair of cargoes seemed like a feat to a body so sore from what felt like an endless battle. He let you grasp onto his forearm before dipping into the tub and sinking shoulder deep. The warm water against your ailing body felt almost euphoric. As usual Shikamaru knew exactly what you needed.

Of course your generous boyfriend could not stop there, running you a bath was not enough. He was going to bathe you himself too. Tenderly rubbing the dirt and grime from every cut and scrape on your body.

"How'd you get this one?" a question he asked ever so often. His tone is always dull and irritated.

Shikamaru hated to see you covered in bruises. You called them a causality of the job, but to him they were just a sign that he wasn't there to protect you. He would try to ignore the small ones, but any that seemed too deep or painful he felt obligated to inquire about. Although he never liked the answer. That's probably why wiping away your wounds was so therapeutic for him. If he couldn't prevent the pain, at least he could alleviate it now.

"A shuriken hit me, cheap shot." You huffed.

Your boyfriend's face didn't soften, in fact you were sure you saw him actually grimace at the mention of you getting hit. You wondered why he even tortured himself asking questions he didn't want the answer to. Nonetheless you weren't going to let some small injuries ruin your first night home.

"Rumor around the village is you missed me a whole lot while I was away. "

Shikamaru's cheeks instantly flushed as he averted his eyes away from you. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as a few unsure chuckles fell from his mouth. He was searching for the words to say.

"I ran into Naruto at Ichiraku's, he said you had such an attitude with all of them. Heard you even snapped at Lady Tsunade you missed me so much."

"Damn, Naruto!" He mumbled underneath his breath. "You mess up my whole routine when you leave!"

You let out an exaggerated sigh at the tired excuse.

"Give it up Nara, you missed me!"

Reluctantly the shadow ninja accepted defeat. He laced his now wet hands with yours and brought them to his lips. He planted a trail of endearing kisses up your arm to your elbow before gently returning your hand to the soothing water.

"I'm a mess when you're not here. I swear you occupy so much space in my brain, I can't even think straight. I miss you so much."

The revelation caught you off guard. Maybe it was his lustful entrance of finally having you home after a month, but Shikamaru very rarely was this vulnerable with you. Such words blossomed butterflies in your stomach. It was as if Shikamaru was confessing his feelings for you for the very first time.

"I love you so much y/n."

"I Love you too."

The two of you feel into a comfortable silence. Shikamaru stood to grab you a dry towel. Reluctant you feel deeper into the water, Although drawing colder you couldn't imagine getting out the tub just yet. After all it had been weeks since you allowed yourself to be pampered in such a way. You wanted to savor every moment.

"God, this feels so good." You moaned in pleasure.

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at your blissful proclamation, that infamous smirk plastered on his face. He approached the tub, abandoning the towel on the counter, and kneeled behind you. He snaked his hand up your torso, fondling you some before they landed at your neck. You'd have let out a small gasp if the familiar feeling of his fingers lightly squeezing your throat hadn't completely knocked the air out of you. He kissed his way from behind your ear down to the base of your neck.

"I can make you feel better."

-

The next morning the two of you found yourselves in Lady Tsunade's office, along with your comrades. As usual the Fifth Hokage was assigning daily tasks, when her eyes fell upon Shikamaru. His demeanor was clearly different from yesterday, His hands had returned to his pockets and his scowl had been replaced with a content grin.

"You seem to be in better spirits Shikamaru." Tsunade announced inquisitively. "I assume you've resolved that issue of yours?"

The other shinobi snickered at her insinuation. The attention made both you and Shikamaru look down at the floor hoping it would open up and consume you two whole. Shikamaru rubbed the back of his neck, eyes closed before answering.

"Yes Ma'am."

[beyondspaceandstars]

Happy Engagement

Relationship: Loki x Reader Warnings: contains some dark elements: manipulation Summary: Loki has always thought of you as his and there isn’t anything he won’t do to keep it that way. A/N: I’ve been sitting on this one shot for a while! I had the idea for it months ago and finally wrote it and then it just sat on my computer while I wrote other stuff but I figured since I don’t have anything really new this week it’d be perfect to put out! I hope you enjoy it because I greatly do :)

Masterlist

Loki had always been an interesting force in your life.

You two met when you were just children in school. You two were the official unofficial outsides of your school year — he was a prince, you were a peasant. Despite his royal standing, he’d play with you at recess. For these outlier ways, you two never interacted much with the other kids, life practically forcing you two to one another.

At such a young age, you hadn’t realized how significant this bond would become. As a child, you were just glad someone was talking to you. He shouldn’t have even been looking at you, should’ve maybe been disgusted with your presence alone. You should’ve been some onlooker, amazed by him and his magic but you weren’t — well, except for the magic part. His magic was little when you were kids but it drew quite the amazement from you.

Over time, you two naturally grew with one another. From childhood into your teens and still, now, you two made an unlikely pair of best friends as young adults. All of this though did not come without some bumps along the way.

In your teens, Loki had almost completely shut you out. For some reason, he seemed to be acting embarrassed by you. Your mother had warned you this may happen but you thought he was different, swore he was, unless his sincerity was like the many other tricks he played. Eventually, supposedly after some talking down from his brother, Loki appeared back at your door asking if you wanted to go for a walk.

This disappearing and coming back had become a habit for him over his teenage years and into adulthood. Loki never explicitly told you why but you could tell there was something eating away at him. It had been there a long time and it felt like disassociating himself with you was his solution.

You thought everything was coming to an abrupt end when you fell pregnant. You had been seeing a nobleman who was a regular customer in your parents’ shop. He was absolutely charming and delightful, practically swept you right off your feet within minutes of meeting. Your parents were ecstatic when he asked to court you.

You yourself were stunned but you ran to tell Loki about it. He was speechless. You tried telling him about the man but something in Loki snapped. He got unreasonably upset, spewing hateful comments about the man, practically forcing you out of his chambers in the process. He went radio silent again.

You tried to ignore losing your best friend — again — and focused on your new relationship. He wooed you endlessly with dates to lavish dinners and dawning you in lovely gowns. It was all so much more than you had ever expected in life. He’d tell you you deserved it and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you two would get so lost in one another.

A bit shamefully, hypnotized by the romantics of it all, you gave yourself to him. Tangled in the sheets with him as your guide, you let the man you felt you would marry have every last bit of you.

And for a while after, it was blissful. Nothing had seemed to change between you two until he announced he had to go away for a bit. Confused, you asked why suddenly now facing the fact you were losing another person in your life. He explained he was needed by his father on a different realm, part of the family "business," as he described it.

Days after his departure, you learned you were pregnant. Around this time, Loki popped back up in your life. You felt relieved having someone to confide in but when you told him of your pregnancy, he was far from the supportive force you thought you’d get. He didn’t yell or get upset per se but he was beyond stunned.  

He left for a bit then but can back in less time than last. This time he brought along baby supplies and congratulated you. It was a complete one-eighty from his prior behavior but you accepted it, gratefully. Loki ended up being your main person throughout the pregnancy as clues of when your boyfriend would return were nonexistent.

"Did he know you were carrying his child when he left?" Loki had asked you one night. You two were sitting in the living room of the makeshift house you had acquired. You didn’t feel very good that this was the home you were bringing a child into when you knew her father could’ve provided her with a better one. But, at the end of the day, it was a roof over both your heads.

You crocheted another knot in the baby blanket. "No, he didn’t. I didn’t even know."

Loki gave a passing hum at that answer. He didn’t ask about your boyfriend very much after that.

Once your baby girl arrived, she became your entire world, your entire focus. Between caring for her and working to provide, you had little time to worry about your boyfriend still being gone. But it wasn’t as lonely as it may have looked because Loki was always by your side. Working around his royal duties, he’d take time to come visit you and your daughter even sometimes staying for dinner or to play with her. You didn’t miss how he was unintentionally becoming the father she was missing. You never said anything, though, always biting your tongue as you waited for her father to return.

Hope began to face on that front after your daughter turned three. Maybe he was just a footnote in your life, a foolish hopeful dream, but at least he had given you the lovely gift of your child. You weren’t giving up, still placing him in the boyfriend spot of your mind, but you couldn’t deny doubt crept in. Maybe a relationship of any capacity just wasn’t in the cards for you.

Or so you thought.

As Loki continued with his royal responsibilities, he was growing older and more powerful. That’s when the rumors of marriage began floating about. Your mother had brought it up to you once asking if you met any of his potential suitors. Your stomach did a somersault. You didn’t even know there were suitors, let alone met any of them. You tried to keep your cool and just told her no.

Who these suitors were and if they really existed, you never found out. You never even had the guts to ask about them especially after Loki pulled you aside one night after a dinner at the palace.

He rarely ever invited you to dinners with his family so to get this spontaneous invitation, you didn’t hesitate to attend. He even allowed you to bring along your daughter. She was playing with some servants’ children when Loki asked you to the garden.

"Feeling like a nighttime stroll?" You asked with a little laugh. Loki just smiled.

"There’s actually something I want to speak to you about."

"Oh," you frowned. "Is everything okay?"

Loki nodded. "Yes, yes, everything is fine." He looked up at the sky, almost lost in thought as you walked. You thought for a split second how lovely he looked. "I’m sure you have heard by now the…talk about my anticipated engagement."

Your heart practically stopped beating at that moment. Your hands instinctively gripped at the skirt of your dress as if you were ready to run away at the drop of a hat. Trying to keep your voice stead, you said, "Yes, I believe my mother mentioned that to me the other day."

He shot you an unreadable side glance. Your hands gripped the fabric tighter. Why were you feeling like this? Was that…jealousy you felt? You didn’t understand where that had come from. This was your best friend. Your prince best friend. He was bound to get married and have a lavish life with his bride. You couldn’t stop that, you couldn’t change it.

"Do you know anything of the women I have been offered?"

Was this another one of his cruel jokes? You wanted to vomit all over the bushes of flowers passing you as you walked. You managed to shake your head in response. "I’m sure they’re all wonderful."

He scoffed. "More like they’re all incredibly boring."

You gasped, "Loki, I’m not sure you should be speaking that way of them."

"It’s doesn’t matter," he shrugged, "because none of them are what I want."

You didn’t know if you actually wanted to know what he was seeking. You looked at him wearily.

You two walked in silence for a moment. Loki was now watching the ground intensely. You couldn’t believe how much his gaze was wandering. It must’ve been for courage because the next words out of his mouth were ones you had never thought you’d ever hear. From anyone.

"I believe you could be what I want," he said. He spoke your name so softly. "I’d like to ask for your hand in marriage."

You stopped walking, your legs suddenly unable to move. Your eyes grew wide as complete shock raced over you. You didn’t know what to do, too scared to speak because you didn’t know what was going to come out. Your first thought was that this was one of his magic tricks. Maybe he wasn’t even here, just a clone of him as he wished to make a fool of you. It wouldn’t be the first time but he had never been so cruel.

"You’re not saying anything," Loki noted. He had stopped a few feet ahead of you, completely taken off guard by your halt.

"I-I don’t understand." The words felt so heavy forcing their way out of your mouth.

"I don’t believe I stuttered, dear."

Your jaw dropped, surprised it hadn’t hit the floor already. He was seriously asking this. Loki, a literal prince, and your best friend, was asking for your hand in marriage. But — But you just didn’t know why. Why would he ask such a thing? Not only were you an unwed mother, he knew very well about your boyfriend. It was almost insulting he’d think you’d give up just because business or whatever it was was taking a while. You didn’t even want to begin to think about what this could all mean for your daughter.

"Loki… I… I don’t know. This seems crazy—,"

"Crazy?" His expression turned dark. You suddenly regretted the word despite it holding true. "What is so crazy about me wanting to take your hand? I thought this could be good. You and your daughter would have everything you’d ever want. You’d be a princess for crying out loud!"

You flinched at his anger. You had never seen him so enraged before. It made your whole body stiffen.

"I see. This… This is very generous of you but my boyfriend…"

Loki chuckled but there wasn’t any humor found within it. "Of course. The nobleman." He rolled his eyes. "Tell me again, dear, how long has it been? Do you really think he’s going to just show back up one day?"

"Of course," you nodded. "He told me—,"

"He’s not coming back."

You began shaking your head, growing more and more upset as the seconds passed. "You don’t know that."

Loki sighed, defeatedly. "I do know that, dear." A heavy pause. "I know that because I’m the one that sent him away."

You were certain in that moment your heart had stopped. Everything had stopped. You could barely tell anymore how you got from point A to point B.

"Wh-What do you mean?"

"What I mean is I’ve had my eye on you for a long time," he explained. He was standing so tall making you feel minuscule. "I always thought you could be just right for me but then that nobleman waltzed into your life. Granted, he wasn’t me. He couldn’t give you what I could but he tried his best." Loki shrugged. "I had no choice, really. He threatened everything. He derailed my plan but it’s alright. I think after tonight it’ll be back on track, correct?"

You held your hands up in defense, practically begging Loki to slow down. Your head was spinning. "You sent away the father of my child?"

Loki sighed, sounding actually regretful. "Truly, that wasn’t ever my intention. I didn’t know he was going to do that."

"And you think since you forced him out of the picture, you can swoop in and ask for my hand in marriage? We never had a courtship! Are you even hearing yourself?"

"I’m a prince, darling." He sounded so casual. "We do not court like the rest of you."

Gosh, you felt like you were going to vomit. Your hands fell to your stomach as you tried to calm yourself. You had never heard Loki separate you two so clearly before. Like he had drawn a line, definitively.

Your words tasted like venom as you forced yourself to speak. "Can I at least think about it?"

"I’m afraid not. They’d like an answer tonight."

Tonight. That was what this dinner had been for. You weren’t invited just out of the kindness of his heart. You had been attending your own engagement party.

"Loki, this… I— This is insane. You’re— You’re insane—,"

"Am I, really?" He pressed, taking a few steps closer. You trembled under a darkened gaze you had never seen before on him. "I’m not sure that’s how you should be speaking to the man trying to offer you a bit of… stability."

"Stability?" You repeated. "You think that’s all that I want?"

"Would this not grant your daughter a better life? The little shop of yours is only getting you two so far, dear."

The shock had worn off as you were now being filled with rage. "Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this anymore," you gritted. "Of course, I want nothing but the best for her but I also deserve someone who will truly love me. You’re — You’re just asking to fulfill some royal commitment and trying to pass it off like this is some big, grand gesture to help me."

Loki looked a bit taken back by your words. Even you were a bit surprised by yourself. You didn’t know where this fight was coming from within you. Probably from the depths of motherhood, if you had to guess. But it felt good in a way.

After a heavy moment, Loki asked, "Was I so wrong to assume this proposal could actually help us both?"

That was the real kicker of it all, you thought. This actually could help you both.

"I want to marry someone who loves me."

Loki seemed to debate around the idea mentally. "I’m certain that within time something could bloom. I’m not a psychopath, darling." He smirked. "But I truly can’t believe you’d give this up all for the minuscule chance at love, the hopeless thing that got you where you are today."

You gasped. "I would’ve had true love if you hadn’t banished him away!"

Loki let out a humorless laugh. "You are so adorable, you know that?" You flinched as he got close enough now to place a hand on your damp cheek. You were practically forced to look in his eyes as he spoke. "That man was nothing but a spoiled brat and I refuse to believe you actually fell for his game."

You felt yourself crumbling down again. Way beneath him. "He… He was really…"

"Don’t you dare try to defend him, do you hear me?" Loki spat. That darkness was washing over but this time it felt like a storm you couldn’t escape. "I will not have my bride speak such niceties about another man."

"Your bride—,"

"While I’ve enjoyed this little midnight confessional, we have some good news to share with everyone, don’t we?"

You didn’t know what to do. What to think anymore. He wasn’t letting up. You were trapped. It was like the prison gate had shut behind you. You were stone-cold now, completely under his control. You were giving up in complete defeat. You could scream until you were blue in the face but you were running in circles. At least your daughter would know a home.

"Yes."

Loki’s face lit up. He removed his hands from you. "Fantastic," he said, heading back towards the palace. You helplessly followed beside him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and said, "Happy engagement, dear."

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate. Notes: Reader gets a bit of a backstory here, with just enough concrete details to serve the plot in future chapters. Hopefully enough is kept vague for people to enjoy it. Now... Time to meet your new kids-in-law/the gremlins :) Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants

2: Uncertain Destinations

“You already know my name, as well as my fate, and I have neither threats nor demands to make of you. I am at your mercy, regrettably, with nothing more to say. Shall we consider ourselves ‘introduced’? Or is there more you wish to ask of me?” You wonder, eying ‘Alcina’ with a bored expression. It felt odd to refer to her that way, even within the confines of your mind. She had been ‘Lady Dimitrescu’ for as long as you could remember; starting with your years in the village, and continuing through your months here at the castle. One day, perhaps, you would grow used to calling her by her first name. For now, you simply hoped to focus on other matters.

“Tell me of yourself, your past. Who were you before you came here?” Alcina asks, surprising you. What did it matter, now that you were stuck here? At first you shrug, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to open yourself up to her. But before long she’s placed a hand on your shoulder, applying just enough pressure to encourage you to speak. You win this round, you think.

“Somehow I doubt you’ll find it terribly interesting. I was born in the outskirts of the village, on a small farm, just like any other. I had a pet dog, went to ‘school’ with my neighbors, and spent my weekends volunteering with the church. The only thing you might not expect is that I lived outside the village for about a decade. Traveled for a while, never really staying anywhere for terribly long. Eventually, I got tired, and so I came back to help my parents with what little property they had left,” you explain, quietly. Being vague had been intentional, considering the nature of a few details. Did she need to know why you had left? Or that you had once revered Mother Miranda?... No, because if she learned that, it would not be long before she learned that you had changed your mind years ago. Something told you that she wouldn’t appreciate your lack of faith in her mistress. “That was six months ago, roughly. Barely got to spend time with my parents before I was ‘donated’ to the staff here.”

“Not many ever leave the village. Those that do rarely, if ever, return. How particular,” Alcina replies, giving a soft hum. There’s something in her expression that tells you she’ll eventually ask you to elaborate. For now, however, she seems content to move on. Internally you sigh in relief. “I suppose this is sufficient to sate my curiosity, for the time being. Now come with me, I’d like to introduce you to my daughters, to ensure that they understand you are… off limits.” With that said she stands, once more reminding you just how small and fragile you are in comparison, before heading towards the exit. You’re nearly forced to jog in order to keep up with her long strides. As she leads you through hallways, down a flight of stairs, and past several nervous looking maidens, she slows down the slightest bit, having eventually noticed your struggle. Admittedly, that’s more kindness than you would have anticipated. Perhaps she was used to adjusting her pace for her daughters?

Whatever the reason, you do appreciate it. Still, by the time you arrive at your destination, the castle’s library, your legs are feeling the smallest bit sore. Brushing off the ache, you follow Alcina inside. Then you’re taking in the sights, having not been here before, admiring the impressive collection. Glad I’m not responsible for cleaning this place, you think as you pass by dozens of filled shelves. Before long you encounter the three daughters. They’re sitting in a semi-circle, each with their own book, though they’re quick to sit up once they spy their mother. One by one they’re smiling up at her, not even sparing you a moment’s glance. Admittedly you’re glad for that. What good could come from their attention, especially when they don’t yet know who you ‘truly’ are?

“I’m glad to see you’re all in one place, my darlings. There has been a… development, of sorts,” Alcina says, speaking in the same tone one might use to address a faculty meeting. In a less intimidating household, it would have been much harder to hold in a laugh. Was this always how she spoke to her children? For their sake, you hoped not (though the concept was amusing). Regardless, it is at this point that the daughters notice you, with one of them looking intrigued enough to send a shiver down your spine. You’re pretty sure her name is Daniela, being the only one you haven’t met before today. A toothy grin spreads on her lips, and once you make eye contact you swear that she winks at you. This literally could not be any worse, you think, unable to stop yourself from frowning.

“Does it have to do with this little thing?” Daniela purrs, taking a step towards you. Instantly both Alcina and yourself are tensing up. While your soulmate shifts in front of you, an incredibly faint rosy tint to her cheeks, all you can do is pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers.

“This ‘little thing’ is not your newest playtoy, Daniela. Rather, they are my-” she hesitates, disliking the way the word feels in her mouth- “soulmate. I expect the three of you to behave, understood? At the very most, you are allowed to prevent them from leaving the premises, but even then I expect you to remain gentle. Have I made myself clear?” Alcina asks. Now she’s not the only one blushing, as Daniela looks so embarrassed that you wonder if she’ll pass out. Maybe now you’ll think twice about flirting with everyone you meet, you think, remembering the various rumors you’ve heard about her. For a moment, part of you imagines what your relationship with her would look like, were you to continue ‘courting’ her mother. Could this be a moment you could torment her with for life? Get some cheeky revenge for all the maidens who couldn’t risk it? A lovely thought, though one soon interrupted.

“Of course, mother. We will not lay a single finger on them, unless we have no other choice. Right, sisters?” Bela replies, turning to her siblings with an expectant look. Neither of them seem terribly pleased, but they nod, each giving their own verbal affirmations. All three spend a few moments glancing you over, reevaluating you now that they know who you are, appraising your worth. It’s not hard to imagine that they all find you lacking- at least in comparison to their mother. “Are introductions in order? We’ve met before, but I hardly know anything about them. It would be… nice to properly meet the newest edition to our family.” The way Bela says the words makes you nervous, and the way Cassandra grins only worsens the feeling.

“If you desire such, I see no reason to forgo such a thing. Perhaps the three of you could give them a tour? I must return to my duties, and I doubt they have seen much of the castle, given their… former occupation,” Alcina admits, softly. Was this a confirmation that you’d no longer have to spend every day working yourself to the bone? On one hand you were somewhat relieved, but you also regretted the possible loss of your preferred coping method. Worse, were you really going to spend who knows how long with the dreaded Dimitrescu daughters? They were going to rip you to shreds, at least verbally, you were sure of it. How could you ever meet their expectations? If they were anything like their mother, you would never be enough to satisfy them. Or at least that is what you assumed.

“I’ve seen a fair bit,” you interject, awkwardly, hating the way it brings everyone’s gaze back to you. Alcina’s lips twitch, as she fights back a frown. Evidently she didn’t appreciate you countering her suggestion.

“Please, we insist,” Bela fires back, a pleasant tone covering her thinly-veiled animosity. “I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time getting to know each other. You do want to learn more about your soulmate’s children, don’t you?” Something about the way she speaks makes you want to laugh. When you smile back at her, it’s without a hint of any placating intentions, rather a dewdrop of mischief. Bold of her to assume that you wanted to make her mother happy. After all, it was clear from her phrasing that this was a ‘test’, a ruse to ‘reveal your true colors’ to Alcina. But you were as uneasy about your part in this as Bela was, neither of you finding yourself a suitable match for Alcina. Despite the way she narrows her eyes at you, her mother is smiling again, glad that she had a way to keep you occupied for the time being.

“It’s settled then,” she says, moving to give each of her daughters a kiss on top of their heads. They giggle at the affection, looking rather proud of themselves. Then she turns to you, hesitating, clearly having the instinct to give you a kiss as well. Half of you wants to stand on your tippy-toes, expectantly, wondering if she’d do it (and how flustered it would make her). Instead, you pretend not to notice, accepting the awkward shoulder pat she ends up giving you. “I will see you this evening, for dinner. Do try to enjoy yourself. But don’t forget-” she leans in until her mouth is right next to your ear, breath tickling your neck- “behave yourself. I will not tolerate any tomfoolery, understood?” Alcina does not pull away until you’ve nodded, and you do not relax until the library door has shut behind her.

Except now you’re alone with her daughters. Wonderful.

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

Dealing with finances was not, to put it simply, Alcina’s ‘favorite’ activity. Although she employed someone to handle the majority of the paperwork, she made sure to go over it herself to ensure accuracy. There were many aspects to her business, being both legitimate and illegitimate, technically. One could never be too careful about their records. After all, failing to file tax returns had taken down Al Capone, of all people. Who was to say that such a mistake, or one in a similar vein, could not damage House Dimitrescu? Certainly it wouldn’t be enough to ruin them entirely, but it could lead to certain ‘nuisances’ bothering the village. At the end of the day, Alcina cared more about the impact it would have on Mother Miranda than anything else, even the possible decline of her household.

A nasty habit, really. Few knew the extent of her self-entitled devotion to the cult leader. The only bond that ran deeper was that she had with her daughters, who meant more to her than she could ever vocalize. Even then, she viewed them as a gift from Miranda, which in turn strengthened her love for the woman. Now that love leaked into everything she did. With a flourish of her pen, she signed away some of this month’s earnings. So what if she already ‘donated’ a large portion of her income to the village and its leader? Certainly this was a way to show the level of her devotion? Certainly Miranda would take notice, eventually? Praise her for it? Take Alcina’s hand in her own, thumb caressing her skin, eyes filled with a long-sought affection?...

The sound of passing footsteps brings her back into the moment, and Alcina stares down at the mountain of paperwork she’d yet to approve. With a deep sigh she readjusts her reading glasses, sets the finished document aside, then gets back to work. A part of her mind soon starts to drift to other subjects. To you, primarily. Would your affection be easier to gain? Steadier?... But could it, in any way, compare to Miranda’s? No matter how she tries to brush the thoughts away, they nip at her heels, circling her head like vultures. Only time would give her the relief she so desperately sought.

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

“So, don’t tell me you really think you’re my mother’s soulmate, right?” Cassandra says, somewhat grumbling, as you trail behind Bela. It’s less than five minutes into the tour, with the siblings having behaved so far, focused on actually showing you around. At her words, both her sisters started walking slower. Their gazes were still locked ahead of themselves. The way they positioned themselves, however, made it clear that they were listening. “Is it some elaborate scheme, hmm? Did you spend a dozen hours with the other servants, noting every last detail about her soul mark, before copying it? Do you really think that you’ll get away with this?” Well, ‘twas good to know who the most paranoid of the three were.

“Ah, yes, it’s all a great, horrible ruse. You’ve caught me red-handed, I’m afraid,” you chime, sarcastically. A hand goes to your forehead as you fake faintness. “I’m just so desperate to be scrutinized by yourself and your mother, to have my every movement watched, to somehow be less free than I already was. I simply… cannot… believe… that you saw through my bluff.” With that you give a dramatic sigh, pausing in the hallway to give Cassandra a judgemental look. If not for Alcina’s instructions to keep you safe, you’re certain she would have beheaded you on the spot. “I’m not claiming to understand the universe’s decision. But I’m also not giving up immediately, no matter how much the three of you scare me.” At that, Bela stops in her tracks, slowly turning to you. Instinctively you go to take a step backwards, only for Cassandra to catch you, holding you in place. Next thing you know, the oldest daughter is grabbing your head, staring you right in the eyes.

“Answer one question, and maybe I’ll make sure you don’t fall victim to some tragic, unfortunate accident. Can you see yourself loving my mother?” Bela asks, more intense than you’ve ever seen her before. Despite that, you don’t tremble, swallowing your fear long enough to reply.

“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s terrifying… and beautiful. Cruel to some of the maidens I’ve met… and loving to you three. I… I don’t know if I can love her,” you admit, gulping. “But isn’t that part of the point of trying? To find out? I am going to try, for both my sake and hers, to love her. To cherish her. What more would you ask of me? I cannot tell you how the days to come will go, whether or not your mother will enjoy them, or even whether she could love me. This is not a situation you can threaten into resolving the way you want it to. So let me go, finish the tour, and give me a chance. You owe your mother that much, do you not?” Soon enough the hands keeping you in place loosen their grip, and Bela turns away with a scoff. Honestly, you can hardly believe that your little speech worked. You aren’t given much time to celebrate, however, as the sisters quickly resume their walking. Before long, Daniela is speaking up between giggles.

“I like this one already.”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

travel books and romance novels // Colin Bridgerton

Summary: Colin visits the library for research into his next trip; he didn’t expect to find you.

A/N: Colin’s desire to travel honestly reflects my own. For purposes of the fic, I have aged Colin up - it’s more to fit the plot line of Book Four which is his book anyway. I’m not sure how to feel about this fic, I'm happy with it but I’m not at the same time. I’m not being too harsh on myself however, this is my first time writing for Colin and I haven't got to grips with his character yet. I hope you all like!! <3

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Colin is very cute, pining, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers, female reader, she/her pronouns, marriage proposal, happy ending.

Word count: 4k

Colin Bridgerton had spent over two decades of his life on this planet and had yet to find something or someone he loves more than travelling. The bug first bit him in his early twenties; desperate to experience a Grand Tour – a tradition of which that had strongly died out in the past century. He had read about it so often; dreamed of it nearly every day that eventually he put the idea forward to Anthony and his mother, Violet.

Though Violet was apprehensive at first, she warmed up to the idea once Colin gave her permission to choose some of the countries he would visit. Anthony held no qualms; having travelled to France and Spain before tragedy forced the family title upon his shoulders. Being able to travel would forge Colin into the man he should be; it would give him experience, and plenty of stories to tell his children and then eventually, their children.

Upon arriving back in London after his second trip away, Colin found himself glad to be home. He had sorely missed the sounds and smells that accompany London; the clipping of horses hooves and the constant chit-chat of men and women. It was home; it would always be home.

However, as he stepped off the boat or the train, Colin always wondered the same thing. How long would it be until he craved adventure once more?

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

A month.

Colin lasted a month in the company of his beloved family before he was desperate to head off on his next adventure. However, he had no clear destination in mind. He had visited Europe, toured the Mediterranean and had hopes of crossing the Atlantic one day soon, but for now - to save his mother’s poor nerves - was content to remain closer to home.

He wasn’t one to visit libraries himself, usually sending a list of books with a servant whenever they visited the place, but this time he fancied the walk to stretch his legs. He had decided that research was the best way forward into finding his next destination, his next adventure. The library could offer such a thing.

It truly was a thing of wonder; so many books and serial publications at home in one place. The library at Bridgerton House was well stocked and Colin knew he could walk in freely and take whatever he would need, but there was something attractive about going out to find exactly what you need. There was also the added bonus of a lack of interrogation from his much-loved mother.

A huff leaves his body as Colin is pitched forward; barely catching himself before knocking into one of the shelves. Turning, Colin readies the words he wants to fling at the person who had yet they die in his throat when he finds you standing behind him with an apologetic look on your face, close to tears.

“Mr. Bridgerton!” You gasp, bowing your head politely and in apology, “I hadn’t meant to walk into you.”

Colin smiles, brushing down his suit jacket, “It’s no worry, Miss (Y/L/N). No harm done.”

“I hope not,” You reply, biting your lip.

His smile grows wider at the note of concern in your voice. “Truly, Miss (Y/L/N), no harm done.”

“Nevertheless, I apologise.”

“What are you reading?” He asks, nodding at the two books in your hand, changing the subject.

“They’re romances,” You admit shyly, “I read to my aunt twice a week. She rather enjoys them.”

“And you? Do you enjoy them?”

“There are some that I enjoy, yes, but I prefer books with adventures if I’m being honest.”

“Adventures?”

You nod, “I like them very much. What do you read?”

Colin frowns; confused at the question. You gesture to the shelves of books surrounding you, “What do you like to read, Mr. Bridgerton? We are in a library after all.”

“Non-fiction,” He replies, nodding his head to the stack dedicated to true life accounts of travellers. “I’m here doing research.”

“Research?”

“For where I want to travel to next,” Colin clarifies; walking towards the stack, all the while knowing you’re following.

“Have you an idea?”

He shakes his head; disappointed at the admission. For his last two trips abroad, he had known exactly where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do and see. Now, however, he was struggling for ideas.

You nod your head; seemingly understanding the predicament Colin has found himself in. Holding close the hardcover editions of the romances your aunt loved so much, you take a step back from the third eldest Bridgerton.

“I hope you find your location soon, Mr. Bridgerton,” You murmur in farewell, turning away from the tall brunette.

“I hope you enjoy your romances,” Colin replies, watching you walk away. Fleetingly, he wonders if he will see you again.

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

The library remains just as silent as the last time Colin visited. The books he had borrowed heavy in his hands as he returns them to the attendant who nods in thanks. Distantly, he wonder whether he will run into you again. Since meeting you last, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you.

Colin barely knew you or your family; didn’t know much about your lineage or even whether you knew of his, yet he had not stopped thinking about you and the way you held your books so close to your chest, as if protective of them and what they held even if you didn’t own them. He couldn’t explain the urge he had to get to know you. Colin felt certain that if he wasn’t to see you in the next day or so he was to go mad from the unknown.

Luckily for his sanity, he spies a familiar head of hair amongst the shelves, and he cannot help the surge of happiness that runs through him when he recognises you reading the spines of the books. “Miss (Y/L/N)!” Colin calls out in greeting; rushing over to you.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” You smile, “How have you been? Have you decided on your next destination?”

“I have not though I’ll think of something soon.”

“I look forward to finding out. I’m sure Lady Whistledown will report on it.”

“I’m sure she will,” He drawls; his contempt for the author of the gossip sheet well known amongst family and friends. “How did the romances go down with your aunt? Did she enjoy them?”

Nodding your head, you explain, “Very much so. She usually stays awake for a chapter or two before falling asleep, but this time she stayed awake for close to five. I’m here looking for more books by the same author.”

“Would you like some help?”

“Only if you aren’t too busy. I wouldn’t want to pull you away from something more important.”

Colin shakes his head. “I would be happy to help.”

It takes the better part of an hour. Colin proving to be a distraction to your thoughts as you trawl through the shelves in the library. His very presence throws your mind into overdrive; overthinking his intentions for helping you, but also noticing just how handsome he truly is.

“I think we have enough for now,” You eventually comment, finding it hard to keep the sadness out of your voice as you realise that your time with the Bridgerton is up.

“Are three books enough?” Colin asks warily, as if he doesn’t want the time spent together to end either.

Sighing, you nod, “It’s enough to keep her occupied for a while. It takes us a few weeks to get through one book with me visiting her only twice a week.”

Colin nods understandingly, “Then the other romance novels must be for you.”

You raise an eyebrow, “I much prefer adventure novels though I did tell you that the first time we had met. Though I suppose I didn’t make that much of an impression.”

“I can assure you; you did. I just couldn’t help but notice that you must read far quicker than your aunt so surely you must read the other books you have borrowed.”

Caught out, you avert your gaze back to the books in your hand. Colin tries not to smile in triumph but fails miserably. “How often do you come here?” Colin asks, “Do you borrow books for your aunt alone, or do you read to another relative?”

Pursing your lips, you think over your answer. “I only read to my aunt and I suppose I come here at least once a week, usually on a Wednesday.”

Colin nods, “I shall see you next Wednesday then.”

Watching the Bridgerton walk away from you, you cannot help but wonder what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

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

The friendship that develops with Colin Bridgerton felt entirely natural; as if at some point in your lives your paths were always meant to cross, and a friendship was to begin. Colin finds you in and amongst the stacks of books the following week; a triumphant grin on his lips and his eyes bright with happiness when he finds you once again in the romance aisle.

He starts to offer you suggestions of books to read, meeting you at the library week after week; all the whole continuing his research into where he wants to travel next. He hasn’t settled on a destination, yet he comes to realise that this is the longest he has remained in London in years. Usually, Colin would return home, manage a month with his family before taking off again. A routine his mother has come to despise despite offering her blessing for every trip.

Weeks continue to pass and whilst his family know that Colin has become infatuated with someone, he isn’t ready to share you with them yet. He isn’t ready for the inspecting glances and interrogations from his mother, brothers, and sisters. For now, Colin was more than content to share you with the romance books you swear you don’t love as much as you truly do.

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

The café is busy and getting busier from a lunch rush when Colin sits down across from you. His hair remains a mess despite how often he runs his hands through it in an attempt to flatten it; his eyes are bright as he smiles widely at you.

“I thought you were going to be late,” You admonish, but there’s no heat behind it.

Colin takes a sip of his tea, “I could never be late, not for you.”

“You’re a flatterer.”

“And you’re a romance fan, no matter how many times you try to deny it. Tell me, what are you reading right now?”

You purse your lips, deciding whether to relay the information to him, but the longer you wait, the larger his smile gets. “Definitely not those novels,” You comment, “There is romance in my latest book, but I am reading it for the adventure. It has pirates if you must know, very adventurous.”

Colin laughs, reaching for one of the small cakes on the stand.

“I don’t know how I stand your company,” You complain, trying your best to calm your stomach long enough for you to enjoy the food on your plate. The butterflies raging there were making it rather hard.

“You like me, that’s why.”

“I suppose that is more judgement on me than it is you.”

Colin’s only answer is to wink before returning his attention to the food on his plate. For a while, it is silent between the two of you. happy smiles are exchanged between you both and quiet laughter when you both reach for the same cake; Colin, ever so gracious, lets you have the cake. Instead, he tops up his tea and then yours from the teapot.

“I would like to visit Russia next; I think – St. Petersburg,” Colin declares, breaking the silence once and for all.

“Truly? You would travel so far?” You ask, eyes wandering to the globe on the table in the corner of the room, a display item. Centred on England, Russia could not be seen for the distance between them.

“I’d travel to all four corners of the earth if I could,” Colin admits, voice honest.

You sit back in your chair, eyes wide with wonder at the prospect of travelling even outside the county without a chaperone. “I’d love to travel.”

“It is a marvel,” Colin smiles, thinking back to his trips through Europe and the Mediterranean.

“The only chance I’ll get to travel is on my honeymoon which will be a marvel in itself,” You reply, picking at an invisible thread on your skirts.

“Why?”

You sigh, “Mother doesn’t hold much hope for my marrying. She believes that I have been out for too many seasons and have nothing left to offer that could possibly entice a man into courting me, never mind proposing.”

Colin finds himself gripping the arm of his chair in an attempt to keep his anger at bay. Such words leaving your mouth should be a crime. You have plenty to offer. However, at the sight of your slumped shoulders and sad eyes, Colin realises that you believe the words of your mother; that you truly have nothing left to offer.

On a whim, Colin asks, “Are you attending the Duchess of Hasting’s ball tonight?”

Shaking your head, you explain, “Mother isn’t one for huge events no matter the title of its holder.”

Colin surges forward, grasping your gloved hand, “Come, please. My sister won’t mind. I’ll have her add you to the guest list and send a carriage for you.”

You remain silent as you think over his proposition, ready to turn him down and return to your life of safety but the determination in his eyes and the joy in his smile leaves you nodding your head instead.

“Alright,” You agree, “I shall wait for you carriage.”

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

The London home of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings could only be described as grand. Candles line the way to courtyard in which the ball would be held; they provide a romantic atmosphere, providing many a dark corner where young couples could sneak away from their chaperones.

Upon your announcement, you find yourself walking through the large crowd of people, unwittingly searching for the familiar head of brown hair. He finds you first, however, smiling widely as he notices you in the crowd.

Colin excuses himself from his conversation; making his way over to you as fast as he can without bringing too much attention to himself.

“You came,” Colin breathes as if in disbelief that you stand before him. His eyes run over you; taking it all in as his heart races. He hasn’t felt like this before; he hasn’t ever known anyone to make him feel like this. Colin feels as if he wants to show you everything, introduce you to everyone, but also keep you for himself should anyone want to steal you away.

“I said I would,” You smile, heated from his attention.

“You look beautiful,” Colin states truthfully.

“Thank you,” You answer, “You look very handsome too.”

“Would you care to dance?” Colin asks, a hand outstretched and waiting.

Smiling, you nod your acceptance. You take his offered hand, letting him leads you to the dancefloor where many other couples are readying themselves for the opening notes of the dance. Out of the corner of your eye, you spy Anthony’s eldest brother getting ready to dance with his wife, Kate. He offers Colin a smile and a nod to which Colin’s shoulders relax somewhat. You raise an eyebrow at the brunette only for Colin to shake his head; nothing you need to worry about.

Colin’s hands find themselves in the correct position son your body as you reach for his free hand, resting your hand on his shoulder. The music soon starts up and Colin begins to lead you round the dancefloor in a flurry of spins that leaves you giggling. His face lights up at the sound of your laughter, soon finding himself joining in.

“Stay for one more dance?” He asks as the music dies and you pull away, desperate not to let go of you just yet, happy enough right now to feel your hand in his and your body pressed so close.

“I’d love to,” You answer honestly, letting yourself be pulled back to the dancefloor where Colins hands soon start to feel like home on your body.

By the end of the second dance, you begin to feel dizzy from the spinning. Smiling gratefully at Colin, you apologise for having to bow out. He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand, “Shall we get a drink? I’m sure I saw some lemonade not too long ago.”

“Lemonade sounds perfect. I seem to have worked up quite a thirst.”

“Then by all means,” Colin declares, bowing dramatically at the waist, “We must get the lady a drink.”

Laughing softly, you follow Colin to the drinks table where he hands you a small glass of the cold drink. He goes to take a drink from his own glass but is distracted by his mother calling his name. Colin apologises before leaving you in the company of his sisters, Eloise and Hyacinth.

“Good evening, mother,” Colin greets, dropping his head to kiss her on her cheek.

“Two dances in a row?” She asks as greeting, curious to know just who has distracted her son in this manner.

Colin ducks his head; not ashamed to have been caught out in his feelings, but ashamed that he hasn’t introduced you to his family as of yet. Across the room, despite the music, he hears your laughter. His attention rests on you as he watches you laugh at something said by either Eloise or Hyacinth. Your smile is wide as you try to cover it with your hand; trying to be polite but neither sister care that much as they continue to make you laugh.

You’re beautiful, he realises. He’s known it all along, of course, but with that smile on your face, Colin cannot help but desire to be the one who brings such a smile to life. He wants to be the cause of your smiles and your laughter; the reasons why your eyes crinkle in the corner. He wants it all; he wants it with you.

“I think you know why you haven’t set off on another adventure,” Violet states pointedly; eyes dancing between her son and where you stand, talking to Eloise and Hyacinth. A mother always knows.

Colin’s eyes don’t need to follow his mother’s; they had been on you since you excused yourself from him. He’s finally ready to confront what he had known along. “I think I know too. Do you approve?” He asks; realising he sounds like a child desperate for his mother’s attention.

Violet Bridgerton smiles, brushing Colin’s cheek softly with a gloved hand. “I think you suit each other perfectly.”

The smile that breaks over Colin’s face could only be described as blinding as he takes his mother’s hand from his face, kissing the back of it before leaning in to kiss her cheek. Against her cheek, he whispers, “Thank you, mother.”

Violet nods, eyes lined with tears as she watches her third eldest son walk away from her. She would be the first to admit how well suited you both are; the need for adventure alive in the both of you. She shakes her head fondly as she watches her son make his way over to you; holding out his hand, asking you to dance to which you graciously accept.

Violet begins to walk the outskirts of the ballroom; feeling nothing but pride and happiness for each one of her children and elated in the knowledge that there was soon to be another marriage in the Bridgerton household.

-----------

The morning after the ball is a pleasant one. The weather wonderfully warm as the sun shines through the windows; heating the drawing room pleasantly. Turning your face, you take in the rays, careful not to risk too much exposure.

Your latest read remains open on your lap as you continue to bask in the warmth of the sun. So far, the book has captured your attention and has failed to let it go. The heroine of the novel too relatable personality wise for you to take a break long enough. At this point in the novel, she had offered an ultimatum to her suitor – he can join her on her next escapade, or he can find another woman to marry. You could only hope he would join her in her next adventure; their comradery was too perfect to end so suddenly.

However, after the events of last night, you found it hard to focus on the book long enough to turn the page. Instead, you found yourself reading the same line over and over again, desperately trying to lose yourself in the witty prose of the author.

But your mind focused on last night: the music, the dancing, the company. It had been a dream; it felt like a dream – only your mind could cook something up so perfect, yet deep down you knew you had experienced every second. You were certain you were still dizzy from the spins you had taken when dancing with Colin.

Biting your lip, you think back to the three dances you had shared with the third eldest Bridgerton. Three dances – could it be true? Shaking your head, you answer your own question. It was true; you remember every moment with crystal clarity. Three dances with Colin had to mean something; it had to mean he felt something for you. Your heart begins to race as you think of the possibilities

“Miss,” Your Butler states, interrupting your daydreaming, “A Mr. Colin Bridgerton is here to call on you.”

“Show him in,” You answer, standing from your window seat, brushing down the skirts of you dress. Biting your lip, you could only hope that you looked presentable.

“(Y/N),” Colin greets as he enters the room, a large smile on his face. A bouquet of red roses and lady’s breath in his hand that he offers to you.

“They’re beautiful, Colin. Thank you,” You whisper, eyes darting around the room for a vase. They would be put in there after Colin had left.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“What did I do to deserve flowers though?” You ask, a teasing note in your voice.

Colin smiles, “I know where I want to travel to next. I came to tell you.”

A pang of disappointment rushes through your body soon followed by upset. Placing the flowers on the nearest table, you do what you can to avoid his gaze as you ask, “When do you leave?”

“That’s the thing,” He starts, shifting nervously, “I have something to ask of you before.”

“What?”

“Travel with me. Come with me,” He all but pleads, reaching for your hand, “As my wife.”

Your eyes widen as Colin’s grip on your hand tightens. “What?” You question, breath coming in a hurry. “What are you asking me, Colin?”

“I’m asking you to marry me so we can travel together. I’ve seen the world once; I want to see it again with you.”

“I have to admit this isn’t what I expected today,” You ramble, trying your best to not look into his eyes. The moment you do, you’re done for.

“(Y/N)…” Colin interrupts, cutting off your nervous rambling. “I need to know an answer, love.”

It’s only then that you let yourself look into his blue eyes; reading the emotions written over his face. He was promising you adventure; the likes of which you had only read in books. Colin was promising you a future full of love and laughter; a dream you had hoped for since you were a young child.

Suddenly, as you look into his blue, blue eyes, it’s all clear.

“Yes,” You whisper, somewhat breathless but entirely ready to begin your future with the man in front of you, “Let’s see the world together.”

********

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff​

[dameronology]

love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno.  {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing. 

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it. 

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors. 

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day. 

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you. 

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing. 

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway. 

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error. 

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done. 

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum. 

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’ 

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them. 

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’ 

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents. 

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

--

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead. 

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled. 

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous). 

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek. 

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

--

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up. 

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned. 

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied. 

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured. 

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that. 

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it. 

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you. 

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’ 

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog. 

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved. 

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal. 

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing. 

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled. 

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’ 

[bbyannabeth]

hello hello, i just posted this fic right now.

below the cut is an alternate ending to the fic because i hate writing angst and i needed some serotonin. but please read the fic before reading the alt. ending<3

-

Getting to the Underworld was a lot easier when she had a child of Hades as her friend. Nico shadow traveled with her to his father’s palace, leaving them right outside the doors. “Thank you,” she said, staring up at the doors.

“No problem. You sure you want me to leave, though?” he asked. Annabeth nodded.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. She had Mrs. O’Leary’s whistle in her pocket. Technically that was Percy’s possession, but the hellhound had always loved her too so she hoped it would still work.

“Okay,” Nico said quietly, somewhat awkward. “See you later, then.”

“Bye,” she replied, and then she was alone. Taking one heavy breath, Annabeth pushed through the doors of the palace.  “Lord Hades!” she yelled, walking in.

He materialized in front of her. “What a nice surprise,” he said, his voice flat. “I love screaming children bursting into my home.”

“My apologies, my Lord. You know why I’m here, though.”

“I do,” Hades said. “But I can’t help you.”

He started to walk away but Annabeth followed. “Yes, you can!” she protested. “Percy saved the Gods, he saved you. He’s the only reason Camp Halfblood accepts Nico. He deserves a better life than what he got.”

“He… he made his choices,” he said, though he didn’t sound confident. It reminded her of what her mother said. Annabeth thought that was bullshit. He made his choices based on the circumstances. He would’ve never willingly chosen this life to begin with, none of them would.

“Do it to spite Zeus, then,” she tried. “This eternal feud with your brothers – this would piss them off pretty good!”

Hades stopped, like he was considering it. The silence grew longer and Annabeth was almost worried she’d crossed some line. But then he turned.

“Okay.”

She blinked. “Okay?” she asked.

Hades nodded. “You make good points. He saved us and he’s befriended Nico, I do appreciate those things,” he said. He grinned, a sight that sent shivers up her spine. His smile had an unintentional (or at least she hoped it was unintentional) evil to it that she didn’t like. “And it would be very satisfying to anger my brothers.”

Annabeth was stunned. This has been her entire goal but she was shocked it had actually worked. After what happened on Olympus, she had expected to walk out of there empty-handed.

“Th-thank you, Lord Hades,” she stuttered. “I can’t thank you enough. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

He nodded once before flicking his wrist. In a cloud of dark smoke, Percy appeared in the room with them. He was translucent but other than that, he looked just as he had before. Hades held up a hand to stop her from rushing forward. “You’ll walk right through him,” he said with a dark chuckle.

Percy stared at her, disoriented. Hades flicked his wrist again and Percy jolted, his body becoming solid again. Annabeth looked at Hades, who then rolled his eyes. “Go ahead.”

Annabeth launched forward, tackling Percy in a hug. He was still confused but his arms tightened around her. “Oh my Gods,” she mumbled. “I got you. You’re safe.”

“Annabeth?” he whispered, starting to regain his senses. She stepped back to cup his face.

“Yeah, Perce. It’s me. You’re safe.”

“I don’t,” he trailed off, blinking at Hades. “You brought me back?”

“Your girlfriend was very insistent,” he replied with a shrug. Annabeth almost laughed. Percy blinked again.

“Thank you, Lord Hades,” he stuttered. “Thank you so much.”

The God nodded. “If you die again, you’re on your own,” he said with a smile. Another twisted-looking one that made Annabeth shiver.

She hugged Percy close again and they heard Hades sigh. “Okay, you guys are gross,” he said. It almost sounded like he was… teasing them? Annabeth laughed quietly, her cheeks flushing as she stepped back.

“Thank you again, my Lord,” she said. “We’re indebted to you.”

“Considering it a favor,” he replied. “Now get out of here.”

His wrists flicked and Annabeth was suddenly enveloped in darkness. Her eyes fluttered open, and she and Percy were standing at the New York entrance to the Underworld. With a delirious laugh, she tackled him in another hug. One that sent them sprawling into the grass. “Oh my fucking Gods,” she said, pulling him as close as she could.

“Annabeth,” he murmured, digging his face into her neck. She pulled back enough to cup his face.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he replied, staring up at her in awe. “You got me out, Beth.”

“I know,” she said. Her emotions started to creep back up her throat and suddenly she was crying again. “But still. You- you died. That-“

“Wasn’t your fault,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Annabeth pressed her forehead to his. “I couldn’t do this life without you. I didn’t want to.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

Annabeth sniffled and nodded before standing up, pulling him with her. “We should go see your mom,” she said. Percy’s eyes widened and something in him broke.

“Yeah,” he agreed. They walked there and she told him everything that had happened the past week or so. Getting out of Tartarus, defeating Gaia, visiting Sally, and then storming Olympus. He listened silently, their hands locked between them. Part of her was afraid to let go, as though this were some dream and he’d vanish if she released him.

They were stepping into the elevator, going up to the fourth floor, when Percy let out a quiet breath. “Why am I nervous?” he whispered. “It’s my mom.”

“You haven’t seen her in months, Perce,” Annabeth replied gently. “It’ll be okay.”

“Did you visit her much while I was… gone?” he asked. Annabeth nodded.

“At least once a week before our quest,” she said, a small smile gracing her features. She and Sally had gotten extremely close over the course of Percy’s disappearance. “I even slept in your bed a few nights because I had accidentally ended up staying later than I meant.”

He laughed quietly and dropped her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You probably helped her so much.”

“She helped me,” Annabeth replied. In those months, seeing Sally had kept Annabeth from slipping away entirely. Sally made sure she stayed fed and well. If it hadn’t been for her, Annabeth would’ve withered away.

“I love you.”

Annabeth smiled and as the doors opened, she quickly tilted her head up to kiss him softly. “I love you, too.”

She took his hand again and they walked through the halls. Stopping in front of the door, Annabeth looked up at him. He lifted his hand, paused for just a brief second, and then knocked on the door. Annabeth held his other hand tight as they waited.

The door opened and then Sally Jackson was in front of them. Her hair was in a loose bun and her eyes were red. She stared at Percy, who was crying again. Honestly, Annabeth felt a bit like crying herself. “Mom,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

In an instant, their arms were wrapped around each other. It was a little funny now that Percy was taller, but that didn’t stop Annabeth from tearing up.

“My baby,” Sally murmured. “I love you so much, oh Gods.”

Annabeth saw Percy’s shoulders shake with silent sobs. Sally’s eyes opened just for a second, but she caught sight of Annabeth and regained enough sense to pull away. “Come inside, let’s get out of the hall.”

They were ushered inside and Percy was being wrapped up in another tight hug. Annabeth excused herself quietly, trailing down to the bathroom to wipe her tears away. She was so overwhelmed with emotion and she wanted to give them a moment alone.

When she returned, they had seemingly just broken apart. Sally turned that warm, loving gaze on Annabeth now and swept her up a hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said, and Annabeth melted. And then, much quieter, Sally whispered, “Thank you.”

Annabeth nodded and hugged her tighter. She caught Percy’s eye over Sally’s shoulder and he smiled at her. His mother had always loved Annabeth, but it must’ve been interesting to see how much closer they had gotten over the last year. Sally pulled away and looked at both of them.

“Well,” she said, huffing out a disbelieving laugh as she wiped her tears. “We should order some pizza and talk. Paul will be home in about an hour.”

They sat in the living room, Annabeth tucked into Percy’s side and she told Sally about what happened on Olympus and in the Underworld. She looked impressed at Annabeth’s determination. “Well,” Sally said with a gentle laugh. “At least I know I can count on you to take care of him.”

Annabeth wanted to cry. She had always been the one who was supposed to take care of Percy, and yet she had let him die. Instead of crying, because Gods, was she tired of it, she lifted her eyes to Percy. He was already looking back at her.

“Yeah, someone has to,” she said softly. Percy kissed her head.

“I’m glad it’s you, then,” he whispered.

Just then, the door opened and Percy tensed. “Honey?” Paul called out and Sally smiled.

“In the living room.”

“Did you end up…” he trailed off when he entered the room and his eyes landed on Percy. His bag, filled with school papers and his laptop, fell to the ground. “P-Percy?”

In a flash, Percy was off the couch and pulled into another hug. He and Paul had always been decently close, with maybe a hint of natural awkwardness settled between them. After being gone for so long, though, any residual tension had disappeared and they both seemed perfectly comfortable in a hug.

When Paul finally pulled back, he looked at Percy, then Annabeth, then Sally. “I don’t… understand.”

Sally laughed gently. Her mood had improved greatly since they had gotten to the apartment, for obvious reasons. “Come sit,” she said.

Halfway through retelling the story, the pizza got there and Sally brought it into the living room for all of them to dig into. Afterward, Paul nodded slowly. “This was definitely an interesting family to marry into.”

Annabeth laughed quietly and leaned further into Percy. She only had the stomach capacity for a single slice of pizza right now, despite not eating nearly enough the past few months. In a moment of bravery, she tilted her head up to brush her lips against his ear. “Good thing I’m already used to how crazy this family can be.”

His eyes snapped to hers and she smiled slowly. She remembered what he’d said about New Rome, how demigods could grow up, get married and start families. She wanted that with him and she wanted to be sure he knew that. Judging by the way he kissed her, in full view of his parents, she was fairly confident that he knew.

They stayed there on the couches for a while, catching up. Conversation rarely ceased and Annabeth smiled more in those couple hours than she had in the last six months. It was only about 8:30 when Percy had yawned for the millionth time. “Tired?” she asked gently.

He nodded, leaning against. She looked at Sally. “This one is about to pass out on me,” Annabeth said, nudging Percy who hummed. “We’re gonna head to bed.”

“Okay,” Sally said before getting up with them and wrapping Percy in another hug. Annabeth heard her whisper, “I’m glad you’re home,” to Percy.

“Me too,” he replied before pulling back. Sally didn’t hesitate to hug Annabeth again.

“I love you guys,” she said when she released Annabeth.

“Love you,” Annabeth said softly, smiling. Percy echoed the same sentiment, taking her hand and leading her down the hall.

Once they were safely in his room, he quietly locked the door and turned to her. “You know, if this demigod stuff doesn’t work out for me, I could be an actor.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “Why’s that?”

His hands slipped under her hoodie, finding her waist and he pulled her closer. “I’m not tired,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers. “I just missed you.”

“While I was right next to you?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I missed kissing you. Thought I’d have to wait a long time to be able to do that again. And now I’m back, and we’ve barely gotten to do any kissing.”

Annabeth couldn’t help the way her lips twitched upwards. “You would’ve waited that long to kiss me again?” she asked softly.

“I’d wait a million lifetimes if it meant I got to kiss you again,” he replied, his voice devoid of teasing. Finally, he was done with talking and he leaned down to press his lips to hers. Annabeth’s arms snaked up around his neck and she pulled him closer. Walking her backward towards the bed, he muttered against her lips, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she replied.

Annabeth hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the simple act of kissing him until now. All she wanted to do was get wrapped up in his touch, which wasn’t wise with his parents being down the hall.

For once, however, she decided as she pulled him into the bed with her, wisdom could wait.

[queenshelby]

Time for Change – Part Seven

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,290

Warning: Pregnancy, Infertility

Notes: Not based on Cillian’s life. This is fiction guys! Also, the next few parts will be short but frequent!

Exactly two weeks ago, Cillian ended his relationship with Danielle and told her that he would be moving out and was filing for divorce.

Whilst you and Danielle weren’t exactly close, she asked you whether you would be able to help with the children while she was working through some things like schooling.

You knew that the separation certainly took a toll on them all and, without hesitation, agreed to her request. You thought that, after what you did, this was the least you could do for her.

But, despite your best efforts, Danielle didn’t make things easy for Cillian, threatening him and manipulating the children which was something you despised.

This, however, didn’t change the fact that, unbeknownst to Danielle, you spoke to Cillian daily and, whilst he clearly struggled with not seeing his children as often as he would have liked, he felt as though he was in better place now that he was staying on his own.

You and Cillian still saw each other, once or twice per week while each of you worked through your separations. Yet, neither of you were willing or prepared to start something new and you certainly didn’t want James or Danielle to find out about your secret relationship.  If they did, you knew that things would become much more difficult for you and your children.

***

It was Thursday evening when you called into Danielle’s house to drop off some forms the school had issued for the upcoming excursion.

When you arrived at Danielle’s house, she offered you some wine and dinner and, after a bit of convincing, you agreed to stay for an hour.

‘Where are the kids?’ you asked when you sat down at the kitchen table and Danielle poured you a glass of wine.

‘Staying with Cillian until Monday’ she said, which made you smile.

‘I am glad you are letting him see them Danielle’ you said just as Danielle plated up some lasagne for you which had come straight from the oven.

‘Are you still feeling sick?’ Danielle asked, noticing how pale you looked and going by the fact that you only just picked on the piece of lasagne she had offered you.

‘Yes, but I am going to see my doctor on Friday to get it checked out’ you said, pushing the plate aside and excusing yourself once again in order to use the lavatory.

‘I am curious Y/N…did you take a pregnancy test?’ Danielle then asked when you returned to the kitchen, causing you to laugh before taking another sip from your glass of wine.

‘You know I can’t have children Danielle, that’s why we adopted Chloe’ you reminded her.

‘Well, I’ve heard of stranger things happening before. There is no harm in taking a test now then, is there?’ Danielle laughed and you realised that she clearly had been drinking too much already.

She told you to wait there while she went into the bathroom and, before you knew it, she returned with a whole box of pregnancy tests.

‘Well, now I am curious as to why you have pregnancy tests in your house’ you laughed while filling up your wine glass.

‘Don’t mention this to anyone but, about a year ago, I went off the pill, thinking that I might be able to conceive again’ she explained and your eyes widened immediately.

‘Please tell me that Cillian knew about this’ you then said somewhat concerned and Danielle shook her head with some embarrassment.

‘No and I know I did the wrong thing Y/N, so please don’t judge me’ Danielle said before explaining to you that, obviously, it never happened and telling you that Cillian and her didn’t have sex for over six months and that she was sure that he had been seeing someone else for the past month or two.

‘But none of this matters now that he has left me, probably for some young slut’ Danielle huffed out, failing to acknowledge all of the marital problems they were having over the past two years.

‘Danielle, you both need to take responsibility for the separation. I know you’ve been having problems for over two years’ you said calmly and Danielle nodded and, after you both talked about your failed marriages for a little longer, she insisted that you take the test.

‘Fine, I will pee on the damn stick’ you huffed out eventually, grabbing it off her and disappearing into the bathroom.

***

When you reached the bathroom, you unwrapped the test before placing it onto the vanity and getting comfortable on the toilet.

You couldn’t believe that you were actually doing this, taking a pregnancy test after you had been told that you wouldn’t be able to conceive naturally many years ago by a doctor in America.

Doing what had to be done, you peed on the stick and, when you were done, you dried it off with some toilet paper and washed your hands before carrying it back into the kitchen where Danielle was waiting for you.

Without looking at it, you handed it to Danielle.

‘Happy now?’ you laughed before reaching for your glass of wine but, just as your hand took hold of the glass, Danielle pulled it away from you.

‘Uh Y/N, no more of this for you for a while’ she grinned with excitement.

‘Why?’ you asked somewhat confused and, just when you did, she turned around the test and showed it to you.

‘You are pregnant!’ she then said and your chin dropped.

In this moment, you didn’t know whether to scream, laugh or cry. This could not be happening, you thought.

‘This test must be fucking wrong. I can’t be pregnant’ you said anxiously before disappearing in the bathroom again with another pregnancy test from the box which Danielle had left on the kitchen table.

To your surprise, this test also returned a positive result and you immediately began to crumble.

‘So, perhaps you and James can work things out then huh?’ Danielle asked and you shook your head before beginning to cry.

‘I can’t…fuck. What the fuck have I done?’ you shouted and cried, tears tumbling down your face.

‘Oh my god Y/N, it’s not James’s baby, is it?’ Danielle then asked and you shook your head.

Of course, it wasn’t his baby. You hadn’t had sex with James for a very long time and, in order for it to be his, you would be well and truly showing by now.

‘Who is the father then?’ Danielle then asked.

‘Just someone I met a little while ago’ you then said knowing that you really couldn’t tell her that you had slept with her husband and that the child was his.

‘I just don’t know how this could have happened Danielle? I was told that I cannot conceive naturally’ you explained.

‘Perhaps it wasn’t you who was at fault. Maybe it was James? Did they ever test his sperm or did they just assume you were the one with the problem following your accident?’ Danielle asked and, as soon as she did, you realised that the child James supposingly had with his secretary probably wasn’t his either.

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[sapphicknightaesthetic]

Prompt #2: The winds call me back to you

Ireland had proved to be more than Eivor had bargained for. She sailed home on the wind-tossed sea, wondering if the trade routes, outposts, and alliances she forged would prove to be worth it in the end, compared to their exorbitantly high cost. She remembered Barid’s eyes, soft but desperate, pleading with her to ensure  King Flann’s allegiance with his last breath, paired with an intensity of his love for his son. He had built a thriving city all so that Sichfrith could prosper...

“...Valhalla need not be a place, Eivor. It can be a legacy…”

She thought about her own legacy. Her intention had always been a life dedicated to fighting for honor, for the glory of her people, for some measure of peace where she no longer needed to pick up her axe to defend them at every turn. But is that what England had given her? She had spent much of her energy and immense skills at the whims of others with political aims and goals, not always aligning with her own. She had placed more than one puppet king on a throne, often needing to choose between the better of two evils. Was this honor? Was this a legacy worthy of entrance to Valhalla? 

Eivor felt exhaustion roll through her like the tide, filling every crevice. She felt unsure of her place in the world, and just needed the comfort of home. Of Randvi. That was her raison d'être, as Estrid would say. Her reason for being. If she fought for the betterment of her clan, if she made connections and alliances to ensure their safety, that was all that mattered. She shook the sad cobwebs from her mind, determined to have a genuine smile for her wife when she returned. She leaned against the firm wall of the longship, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

Birna shook her shoulder. “Come on Sunbeam. Home time.”

Eivor’s eyes fluttered open, she blinked sleep back to its void. “Have we docked?”

“Not yet. We’re just around the bend.”

“Thanks for waking me, Birna.”

“I’m so glad to be rid of Ireland! Those Druids were something else, eh? Giving decent Pagans a bad name.”

“Mmmm.”

“Eivor, I don’t mean to pry. But you spent a lot of time with that red haired witch...what’s her name…”

“Ciara. I did. What’s your question, Birna?”

“I’m just wondering if you made any Druid magic of your own in that wet bog of a land?”

Eivor rolled her eyes. Birna knew full well she hadn’t, though this question seemed to pop up after every major journey they undertook. Eivor had tried to tell her multiple times that she would never be unfaithful to Randvi, that she could not bed anyone for the sake of it if her heart wasn’t in it. The concept had been lost on Birna, and so the questions had persisted. 

“You know I didn’t.”

“I’m just checking. You do have a type, Sunbeam. That red hair burns like fire.”

Eivor grinned ruefully, shook her head, and turned to look at their surroundings. They were just passing the trined point in the river that led to Grantebridge, the ruins of Duroliponte looming to the Southeast. One more bend and they’d be home. She wondered if Randvi would be there waiting; she had sent Sýnin ahead with a note. The evening was well on its way, Randvi might even be asleep. She pictured their bed, warm and soft, furs piled on top of them as they snuggled together, limbs entwined. More and more, this was what she wanted. The return home was always worth it, and was always something she looked forward to, but lately she no longer wanted to return, she only wanted the simple everyday fact of her and Randvi together, because she had never left in the first place.

She watched, wistfully, as the crew lowered the sails and started rowing, this part of the river too narrow to traverse safely. Her heart rate increased as the Raider’s hut roof became visible, growing closer with each stroke of the oars. She felt a swell of pride as more of her village emerged from the lowland fog. Her village . She had built this place from almost nothing, discarded hovels of canvas and sticks. Sigurd may have claimed it as theirs, but Eivor had been the one to turn it into something to be proud of, something worth protecting. She leapt to the back of the ship’s tail, standing on a ledge. “...Valhalla need not be a place, Eivor. It can be a legacy…” This was her Valhalla, and it would never be complete without the person at it’s centre, at its heart. 

Eivor realized then that while she was proud of Ravensthorpe, Ravensthorpe, much like her former idea of Valhalla, was only a place. Randvi was her true home. She’d go wherever Randvi was, without question. Their love, with all of its storied history of waiting, longing, and hiding, was her legacy. She saw copper hair, cloaked against the oncoming chill of the evening, waiting like a beacon between the posts of the village entrance.

The ship glided silently up to the dock, and Eivor immediately leapt off, running as fast as her exhausted legs would carry her. She grabbed Randvi, lifting her off the ground in a tight embrace, spinning her around. She inhaled Randvi’s scent, spice and fire blending with earth and ink and smoke. Her heart beat Randvi’s name in fast repetition, her hands holding onto her wife as tightly as she dared without hurting her.

“My love,” Randvi whispered, as she held fast to Eivor. “How I’ve missed you.” Her hands caressed the back of Eivor’s newly shaved head, luxuriating in the velvety feel. 

Eivor couldn’t speak, she did not want to break the moment with words, but slowly set Randvi down, quickly finding her mouth and communicating everything she couldn’t say with a long, slow kiss, paying attention to the feel of Randvi’s lips, the warmth of her mouth, the teasing nature of her teeth. 

Claps and pats of hands landed on her back and shoulders from the crew as they walked past the pair. Their hearts never failed to be happy for their Jarl, for the love that she had found and fought for. For all of her sacrifice, for the enormous work she had devoted to make their lives better, they gladdened at the sight of Eivor and Randvi together. They knew how hard her road had been, how much she had suffered, often silently, from such a young age. Her happiness was their happiness, and they showed her whenever they could. Birna let out a whistle. 

“You better get her to bed, Jarlskona.” Birna wrapped an arm around Petra, who had walked down to meet her wife when she saw the familiar Raven sails from her hut.

“Leave them be, love. I’d better get you to bed.” Petra wrapped an arm around Birna’s waist.

“You’ll hear no complaints from me, Petra. Good night, Sunbeam!”

Eivor and Randvi watched them leave, as Eivor sent them off with a wave. Randvi turned back around, seeing the edges of something in Eivor’s face. “What’s wrong, darling? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I have a few cuts and bruises, nothing to worry about, my heart.”

“Thank you for sending Sýnin. I have a bath prepared. And some roast boar, thanks to Petra.”

Eivor felt overcome at the thoughtful care Randvi showed her in all things. “Randvi...thank you.” Was all she could manage. 

Randvi smiled at her, her wife was always so ready to display gratitude, a custom she never tired of, but she furrowed her eyes, wondering what was troubling her usually contented drengr.

“Let’s get you home.”

 

Randvi and Eivor sat in deliciously scented hot water. The worry and tension Eivor had carried home with her evaporated into the steam drifting to the longhouse ceiling. A satisfied smile now constantly fixed on her face. 

“This was a great idea, possibly the best you’ve ever had. And that’s truly saying something.”

“I aim to please, my Jarl.” Randvi felt self-congratulatory at the obvious change in her love’s mood. Years of observing Eivor, of seeing her come home in different states of health and happiness, of finding different ways of tending to that glorious body and soul made Randvi an expert in the proper care and maintenance of her physically ferocious wife. But one truth prevailed among her experience: Eivor always recooperated faster with a bath. 

“Are you ready to talk about Ireland?”

Eivor exhaled. “I will do my best. It still feels...fresh.”

Randvi sat up in the bath, giving Eivor all of her attention.

“You know I went to Ireland to help my cousin, Barid. And I did help, although Barid fell in battle. His High King did not heed Barid’s warnings. We were able to beat the Druids back, but I have been wondering if his death was needless, no matter how good and glorious his end. He died a hero, and is no doubt in Valhalla, but had his words been listened to, he would still be the King of Dublin, and his son would still have his father.”

“It is not up to us to change fate, Eivor. It sounds like the Nornir gave Barid a good death. What else can we ask in this life?”

“The love of the most beautiful and intelligent of women, for a start, at the very least.”

Randvi rolled her eyes and laughed, pleasure and embarrassment mingled together. When she looked back at Eivor, sorrow still crept in the periphery. “Is that all that troubles you, Eivor?”

“The Druids of Ireland are much like us, trying to carve out a life for themselves, trying to hold onto their traditions and culture, though the Christians would willingly wipe them, and us, away if given the chance. There was an extremist faction, the Children of Danu, that were causing all the strife while other Druids were forced to live in fear and even secrecy. It made me wonder if we will ever truly pacify this land. The Christians make no room for anyone else. I…I had to kill a Druid priestess who I thought was my friend, all for a Christian King who would rule over all. Was that honorable? I feel...stained, Randvi. I wonder if the decisions I’ve made in my time here are hurting our people, rather than truly helping. She was misguided, angry, she caused a lot of pain in the land there. I think King Flann Sinna saw the error of his ways in his treatment of the Druids, and he will make amends - he said as much. But these Christians...they can be false as well as unyielding. I’m not sure how far he can be trusted.” 

Memories of Fulke and King Aelfred made her skin prick involuntarily. The Norse and Danes were often met with a great deal more than suspicion and hostility, labeled as barbarians and savages for their voracity in war. But there was something honest and forthright in them as a people; they hid nothing, they lived openly and celebrated the customs and cultures of all who chose to live among them. Sharing resources through a community was their way, regardless of the people that community comprised; yet this was not the way of the Christians. From what she had seen, they feared all outsiders. She was unsure if this was unique to Anglo-Saxon Christians or not, but from all she had experienced, she was not keen to go looking for other examples. 

Randvi found Eivor’s hand under the warm water, and stroked soothingly. Her love never lost sight of the broader view and what it meant for her people. It was one of the many things she adored and cherished about her. She took Eivor’s fingers and brought them to her lips, kissing them lightly. 

“These are large questions, my love. Too large to confront in one night. But I promise I will help you as much as I can in our time come in this land. You try to take care of so many, Eivor Varinsdottir. I fear the world is too big, even for your very broad shoulders.”

Eivor felt her heart flutter. After all these years, after all this time, being with Randvi made her feel like she was falling in love with her over and over again. She never stopped falling. 

“But maybe, just for tonight, you can let me take care of you?” Randvi leaned forward, kissing one cheek lightly, then the other cheek, her nose, her chin, across her forehead, until she found Eivor’s lips, nipping lightly, until Eivor pulled her forward and kissed her with earnest desire. She opened her body, as Randvi lay on top of her in the bath, relishing the closeness after too many months apart. 

Eivor leaned her head back slightly, looking into Randvi’s eyes, darkened to forest green between her desire and the dim candlelight around them.

“Barid said something to me, before the Valkyrie came to claim him. He told me that Valhalla need not be a place, that it can be a legacy.” Eivor held Randvi’s gaze, needing her to feel how much she meant what she was about to say. “I think perhaps for me, it is not so much a legacy, as it’s you, Randvi. You are my home, my Valhalla. After all of our time in England, all of the campaigns, the politicking, the alliances we have paid for with sweat and blood, we could walk away tomorrow and I would not care. The winds always call me back to you, wherever you are.” 

Randvi felt strangely vulnerable, though deeply moved. She felt her heart race to echo and return Eivor’s sentiment. If Eivor ever left Ravensthorpe, Randvi would follow without hesitation. She used the moment to lean down and kiss Eivor again, with unashamed love and lust and pride and longing and hope. Their lives together had not been easy, but it had been worth every moment they had paid. 

She felt Eivor’s hands slide down to her lower back, holding her closely. She felt a hot rush in her center, and decided it was time to leave the bath. 

“Shall we adjourn to our chambers, my Jarl?”

Eivor smirked, knowingly. “Indeed, my Jarlskona.” 

Randvi made her way out of the bath, as Eivor followed suit. Randvi spied some new blade slices over Eivor’s body, and some fresh bruises getting ready to bloom; she’d be sure to kiss them all later. She took Eivor’s hand and led them naked to their bed. Their bed . A place she was never tired of acknowledging. 

Eivor pulled Randvi to her, wrapping her in strong, solid muscle. “I missed you, Jarlskona.”

“And I you, my Jarl.” Randvi pressed her teeth against Eivor’s neck, nipping and sucking her way along the tender flesh under her chin. She heard Eivor’s breath catch, and a gasp after she released skin from her teeth. She moved a hand, cupping Eivor’s sex, feeling the wet traces of her want on her fingers. Eivor bowed her head resting it on Randvi’s shoulder, her breathing deepening with anticipation. This fierce drengr, terror of England and Ireland, great Jarl of a proud clan, was made vulnerable and soft with a single touch. It was a power Randvi knew only she wielded, and she never took it for granted. 

She brought Eivor to the bed, guiding her down. “What would you like, darling?” She purred in a way that drove Eivor wild.

“You. I just want you.”

“I am yours, Eivor.”

And the sound of those words, said by the only woman in the world she needed to hear them from, snapped Eivor out of the worry she brought home with her. As the sounds of their love-making filled the longhouse, Ravensthorpe sighed relief, and for tonight at least, everything was well in the world.

[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.3

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Three: When I’m Over You: Spencer’s desperate attempt to move on from you doesn't quite go as planned. A/N: chapter titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.7k Warnings: mild cursing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, very angsty, jealousy, this series is a real slow burn babyyy

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A/N: omg thank you for the kind kind feedback to the last chapter! i’d love to reply to you all under each chapter but unfortunately this is not my main account.. but i am so glad you like the series so far, it genuinely it means a lot to me!! 

-

A large window exposed the handsome brunette gentleman not only the restaurant goers, but also the world outside. Any average passerby could detect that he was nervous. Leg shaking underneath the table. Fingers tapping the surface. Quick glances between the watch on his wrist, and the entrance of the restaurant. 

Table for two yet he currently sat alone, most likely waiting for someone. A date. 

Yes, Spencer decided it was time to put himself out there once again. To really try and get over you. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ask his friends for advise on how to go about moving on because they would instantly figure out it had something to do with you. So instead he was forced to turn to a source he usually tried to stray from - the internet.

After hours of browsing Spencer decided majority of the tips were, for lack of a better word, shitty and didn't really apply to his situation. Don't torture yourself. Purge your pictures. No contact rule. Allow some fantasising. Visualise your future. 

He was about to give up when one word caught his eye. Rebound. Although the concept seemed cruel at first, it was quite frankly the only viable option. Plus from conversations he overheard at work between his colleagues there was nothing wrong with a little causal dating.

Fast forward a couple of days and here he was, patiently waiting for his date to arrive. 

Spencer was feeling anxious. He hadn't been out to dinner with a stranger like this in some time. He also couldn't help but wonder whether this would actually work.  

Back when you and Ethan first got together, the brunette doctor did go out a few times. Dinners, drinks, coffee meet-ups, museum outings etc., nothing worked as effectively as he had hoped it would. Honestly, it didn't work at all.

Although, to be fair, Spencer didn't try as hard as he could have. He deliberately picked people he knew he wouldn't hit it off with. Self-sabotage. Majority of the dates he went on were cut short by him, and the ones that made it to the end... Well, there was rarely a second and never a third.

The brunette agent looked in the direction of the door once again. For a brief moment he considered walking out, texting his date to cancel - ‘Something came up. Can we reschedule?’. No harm, no foul. 

He should have done that. He should have, but he didn't. Instead the person he was supposed to meet did. And as his phone buzzed on the table, an apology message illuminating the screen, Spencer’s eyes found themselves focusing instead on the last person he wanted to see right now. 

You.

The air caught in his throat. His instincts told him to duck his head down yet he found himself unable to move. Eyes fixated on you. Wondering why you were here. Wondering whether you were alone. Wondering whether perhaps he should try and get your attention. 

You noticed him just as you were about to leave. A kindhearted smile spread on your face the second your gaze landed on him, and Spencer waved awkwardly from his seat. Without hesitation, you made your way toward him. 

“Fancy seeing you here doctor.” You said warmly. 

Spencer cleared his throat. “You too.” He responded, nervously smiling back at you. “What are you doing here Y/N?”

You directed his focus to a rather large paper gift bag you were holding. “Just collecting some things that were left behind after our engagement party.” 

The brunette agent facepalmed himself mentally. Of course. How could he be so stupid to overlook that this was the same restaurant as your party. 

“How about you? Are you waiting on someone?” You asked, glancing briefly at the empty seat across from him. Spencer nodded slowly. “I was yes, but they just cancelled.” “Oh, I’m sorry.” An apologetic look graced your features but the brunette doctor shook his head. “Don’t be.”

You glanced at the seat once again before lifting your hand over your shoulder and pointing back to the exit. “Well, I should go. I have a bottle of wine at home with my name on it but I will see you bright and early on Monday doctor.” 

Shooting him one last warm smile, you turned around and were about to walk away when he grabbed your attention one more time. 

“Would you like to join me?” Spencer asked causing you to spin back on your heel to look at him again. “I’ve been sitting here for the last twenty minutes, holding up the table, so I kind of feel bad leaving without ordering anything.” He explained. 

“Only if you promise we split the bill evenly in half.” You grinned as Spencer chuckled. “Fine, I promise.” He responded. Satisfied with his answer, you placed the paper bag next to table before taking off your jacket. The brunette doctor sprung to his feet and took the garment from you. He walked up to the nearest coat hanger as you made yourself comfortable in the empty seat.

“Where is Ethan tonight?” Spencer asked sitting back down. He signalled the waiter to bring over the menus. “I don't want to be keeping you if he’s waiting at home.” He said, even though it was a lie. 

“Ethan is working.” You replied, a sad tone to your voice that Spencer detected instantly. “Which is why I’m glad you asked me to stay because otherwise my dinner would consist of frozen pizza.” You added. “Don’t forget the bottle of wine that has your name on it.” Spencer jokingly reminded and you couldn't help but let out a soft giggle.

The waiter appeared shortly after. They handed you each a menu and asked whether you would like something to drink in the meantime. Since you had to drive home later, you only asked for water. Not wanting to drink alone, mainly in fear he would blab the reason he was really here in the first place, Spencer did the same. 

Soon enough the two of you were lost in a naturally flowing conversation. Each of you took turns filling every breath with more interesting topics. It wasn’t strange since Spencer and you never particularly had any difficulties in that area. 

You placed your orders briskly, eager to return to whatever it was that you were talking about. Even when the food arrived, if one of you paused to take a bite the other would jump in and start rambling off. It was nice to say the least. 

“Can I ask you something Spencer?” You enquired while finishing your meal and placing the cutlery on top of your empty plate. “Anything.” Spencer replied before taking a sip of his water.

“Do you think I'm making a mistake?”

Spencer wanted to lie and say that you weren't but no matter what way he looked at it, as an ex or as a friend, it just didn't seem fair. Therefore the silence that enveloped around you was answer enough. Slowly, you nodded your head in understanding.

You looked out the large window next to you and let out a quiet sigh. It didn't come as a surprise that Spencer felt this way. It hurt just a little however, mainly because you couldn't bring yourself to admit that sometimes you felt the same way. That there were nights you lay awake thinking that you should have said no. 

You loved Ethan, and he loved you. He made you laugh, he cared for you. If one day you’d have kids you knew that he would make a great father and that your children would get everything they could ever dream of; they wouldn't even have to ask. All of that should be enough to want to spend the rest of your life with him. But there were days, moments, where you couldn't help but feel like something important was missing. 

“Y/N...” Spencer’s voice brought you back to reality. You looked back at him. Meeting his inviting gaze, you pursed your lips into a gentle smile. 

The brunette doctor leaned forward. “Do you remember that case we worked in Missoula a few years back?” He asked, changing the subject. 

Before he got a chance to elaborate you cut in politely, knowing exactly which case he was talking about. “Of course I remember doctor. It was my first case with the team.” You said, fondly remembering the memory.

“Hotch asked you to play Prince Charming to the unsub, which looking back at it now makes a lot of sense to me. You do have a lot of Prince Charming qualities.” Spencer smirked softly at your comment. “I have Prince Charming qualities?” He raised a curious brow.

“Are you kidding me? Charisma, smarts, kind heart. The perfect hair, warm smile, and just overall good looks.” You chimed. The small smile on your face grew a little bigger. “You tick all the boxes my friend. Disney could use you as a blueprint.”

Spencer laughed. “Good to know.” 

The two of you sat there for a second just smiling at one another. 

“Why do you ask though?” You asked reaching for your water; breaking the comfortable silence.

Spencer licked his lips before taking in a quick breath. “You said something to me on the plane back home that I think applies now; ‘Meant to be isn't real. It’s a concept. You can’t know if something is meant to be unless you live through it, therefore you can’t know if something is a mistake unless you give it a go. Fairy tales and happy endings are made only by people that live them.’.” 

Your eyes began to gloss over with tears. Trying to fight back the floods, you chewed down on your bottom lip and swallowed your breath. You couldn't believe he remembered. Yes, he has an eidetic memory but you couldn't believe he remembered.

“You will get your happy ending Y/N.” Spencer stated confidently. “I know you will.” 

“Thank you.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear. 

Slowly, you wiped your cheeks for any tears that escaped your eyes and smiled kindly. “How is it that you always know exactly what to say doctor?”

“Years of practice as a profiler.” He answered. “Plus having an eidetic memory helps.” He joked, shrugging his shoulders.

You giggled, your eyes once again locking with his. This time however there was a sort of shyness surrounding it. When your heart skipped a beat, when the palms of your hands began to sweat, when you couldn't bring yourself to look away, well, that should have been an indication that you were in trouble.

And while you played off the warning signs as nothing more than a friendship bond, Spencer realised that any efforts to ‘find a rebound’ would be wasteful. 

There was no-one on this planet that would come remotely close to you. 

Someday, someday Some way, some way When I'm over you

-

A/N: hello friends! i hope you liked the third chapter!! i’d love to hear your feedback and what you think will happen next! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01​, @reverdevivre​, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy​, @lunaofcrows

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​

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[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Imagine the Fellowship comforting you, as you reveal your Aro/Ace identity to them

Requested by: @a-dragon-under-the-stars

I was wondering if you could write a gen or maybe qpp (x reader) oneshot where the reader is aroace and they're feeling unaccepted. The fellowship helps the reader then?

AN: I researched the topic, to ensure I got it right, and started relating a little too much, and now I’m questioning my identity. Alas! Enjoy the product of head scratching, and muttering ‘is it an emotional attachment thing, or is this me too??’

‘Either come back with a husband, or don’t come back at all’ – the last thing your mother had said to you, before you’d set out on the Fellowship’s journey.

Though you resented the idea greatly, you knew better than to argue with your mother. Of course, this left you at wrath with yourself. Here you were, travelling with those you’d rather call friends, but were instead sorting through them – as potential suitors, no less!

There were many feasible candidates, and at least two royals in your company. Your mother had placed great emphasis on that particular fact, but you knew she’d be happy either way, so long as you returned home with a lifelong partner.

However, as mentioned before, you found yourself rather at war, with no one but your own mind – and heart.

You see, that was just the thing – your heart cared not for what your mind thought. It had no attraction to any of the males in your presence, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why!

They were all so handsome, and single! Even the ranger, Aragorn, no longer had ties to that Elven lady from Rivendell.

Legolas, the prince, was high on your radar. He had flowing blonde locks, a tall frame and a charming smile. Your mother would be very proud, if you returned home with him linked through your arm.

Of course, then there were the two human men. Boromir and Aragorn were both very similar in heart and spirit, and you knew for sure they’d make wonderful husbands.

Gimli the Dwarf made you chuckle, but you knew he had great social standing, within his own culture.

The Hobbits were last on your list, but they were most agreeable, nonetheless. Frodo, Merry and Pippin, the three cousins, allegedly stood very high in their society, back in the Shire.

Gandalf also travelled with you, but you halted your thoughts, before anything else could be birthed within your mind.

So many great males you travelled with, and yet, you had no hope of romancing them – it simply wasn’t in you to accomplish.

You felt at unease for days, and the Fellowship soon noticed. Your stomach churned and churned, as you wondered how your mother would react, to you returning home without one of them. The other half of you, was restless over the idea of actually returning home with one of them. You would be miserable, forcing both your heart and body to do things it had no interest in.

You felt incomplete, in a way, as if when your soul was crafted, such finite details were neglected. How would you ever honour your family tree, if you couldn’t carry on the ancestral legacy?

It was one big mess – one your newly found friends wished to help you with.

You sat around the campfire, with your head in your hands. The males all glanced between one another, as they revered you in concern.

You thought you had been discreet in your troubled antics, but apparently, at the gentle calling of Aragorn’s voice, you had not been.

“Y/n?” Aragorn called, stoking the fire, as he glanced at you sideways. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

Aware that tears were in your eyes, and had been running down your cheeks, you lifted your head. You sniffled loudly, shocking both yourself, and your friends.

“I’m fine,” you lied, wiping at your nose. “Thank you for asking.”

“Clearly not,” Legolas huffed, creasing his brows at you. “It doesn’t take Elven eyes to observe your saddened state.”

“Aye, we are your friends,” Gimli promised, slurping at his stew. “If you can’t tell us, then who can you tell?”

You lifted your head more, and knitted your own brows at the group. They gave you their undivided attention, and some even shuffled in their seats, as to better pay attention to you.

Their endearment warmed your heart, and you couldn’t help but feel it swell three times bigger in response. You even offered your own smile, as their sincerity was just too lovely.

Sighing, you averted your eyes to the ground, and replied. Your voice was small, and barely above a mumble. However, they had all heard you.

“I don’t want to marry any of you,” you said sheepishly.

Silence ensued around the camp, as the boys all looked between one another. Who among them had desired to court you, so much so that they had asked for your hand in marriage? Worse yet, why would you taunt them so cruelly, as to announce said rejection in everyone’s presence?

“Did…one of us…ask you, for your hand?” Boromir slowly said, glancing at the Hobbits and Legolas – whom he assumed were the most viable candidates.

You cringed deeply, for you quickly realized that you’d have to reveal your mother’s ulterior motives.

“Not exactly,” you winced. “I don’t know how to say this, without coming across as scheming, but…my mother…she told me to marry one of you.”

Silence ensued again, and you kept your eyes on the ground. That is, until Pippin chirped aloud.

“I’ll marry you!” he offered, grinning brightly. “Our children would be rather tall, that way!”

“That’s just the thing,” you huffed, rolling your eyes – amused nonetheless. “I don’t think I want any of that.”

“How so?” Aragorn gently asked, looking at you fully, as he continued meddling with the fire.

“Well,” you swallowed your nerves, “I know what tags along with marriage, and relationships, and I don’t know if there’s something wrong with me, but…I don’t feel inclined towards any of it? I don’t know, I’m just not interested? It’s hard to explain, but forcing those kind of things feels wrong somehow…am I just crazy?”

“Absolutely not,” Frodo promised – smiling, and nodding once in your direction. “I know so, because I’m the exact same.”

“What?” you incredulously asked, gaping across at the Hobbit.

“I feel the same as you,” he repeated. “I too do not have any interest in romance, or the things that ensue afterwards…nor did my uncle, for that matter.”

The Hobbit blushed at his own innuendo, regarding what ensures after marriage. He looked away, with a clearing of his throat.

Legolas’ brows were raised, and he pursed his lips to the side. ‘Can’t relate’, the young Elf thought. Boromir and Aragorn merely only nodded in understanding, as they mulled over both yours and the Hobbit’s admittance.

“I too, will jump on this bandwagon,” Gandalf piped up, having been sat and smoking against a tree the whole time. “It might be because I am a Maia, but even in my Middle-earth form, I do not crave such relations. If you’re crazy, or incomplete, then so am I – and I was made in Eru’s image.”

You suddenly perked up at the wizard’s words, and offered him an eye-squinting smile.

“Doesn’t seem that weird to me,” Gimli mused, shrugging his shoulders. “I know a few Dwarves who felt the same – Thorin, for one. At least, that’s what my father says.”

“It seems the rest of us are in the minority,” Aragorn smiled, glancing between the other Hobbits, Legolas and Boromir. “I wouldn’t fret at all, Y/n. It all seems perfectly natural to me. And regarding your mother, well…if her words ever cause doubt in your heart, remember ours instead; you are valid – just as valid as both Gandalf, and Frodo.”

You steadily beamed brightly, and found tears warming your eyes again. However, this time, they were out of the joy lighting up in your heart.

“Thank you, guys,” you said, nodding around at all of them. “I’m glad I have you all.”

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 12- Whatever It Takes

Summary: This is it, you’re finally going to help save the world and if all goes to plan, bring Bucky back in the process.

Warning: bit o angst

Masterlist

It’s been a solid month since Tony and Rocket have been crafting tirelessly on the construction of the giant time portal machine type deal, or whatever he’s calling it nowadays. And to your great surprise, as well as everyone else’s, the first test run with Clint was an undeniable success.

Compared to the first one with Scott, things have come a long way.

Clint was able to wander around in that alternate universe for a couple minutes without returning with so much as a single scratch. Thus boosting the teams confidence and excitement for the inevitable time heist that’s in the works. So as of now, everyone’s currently brainstorming as to how this will go about for the most successful mission possible.

“Okay, so the how works.” Begins Steve as everyone sits around the large meeting room, glass screens projecting info about the stones displayed in the background, “Now, we gotta figure out the when and where. Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones...”

Tony cuts in with his spout of knowledge, “Or substitute the word “encounter” for “damn near been killed” by one of the six Infinity Stones.” Damn straight, your ass got launched into a Wakandian tree last you saw those goddamn stones.

“Well I haven’t..” Interjects Scott with a puzzled look, confusion clear in his voice, “..but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.” Oh right, he missed out on all the fun while he was fucking around in the quantum realm.

Sitting on the table you shrug, “Be glad you’ve never seen them, those fucking space rocks will kick your ass if used less then kindly, but it doesn’t matter now. From my understanding we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each.” You explain as they all listen intently, “And clearly these fucking stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

Tony nods, “Our history. So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

“Which means we have to pick out targets.” Adds Clint as Tony points in his direction, “Correct.”

Steve soon gains everyone’s attention once again, “So, let’s start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?” Asks the blonde, all eyes turn towards the back corner of the room to find Thor slouched in an armchair, beer can in hand while the other one keeps partially hidden in his pajama pants.

A dark pair of sunglasses conceals whether he’s currently awake or not. “Is he asleep?” Wonders Natasha as Rodney humorously adds, “No, no. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

A few soft chuckles are heard as you listen intently to the god of thunder, “He’s alive, and most definitely sleeping off that last beer.” You muse as they all give a collective curious brow while you simply shrug, “I can hear his heartbeat, and it’s low enough to tell me he’s not dead.....Well, at least not yet.” You mutter, eyeing up the sleeping giant as an idea sparks into your head.

A second later you pick up a discarded empty beer can sitting right next to you on the table before throwing it at the snoozing god, the thin metal smacks against his forehead with that familiar pop of the can sound, falling to the ground with a crackly ting as Thor jolts awake. And back to the land of the living.

“Nordic Santa you’re up.” His head snaps in your direction as he gives a semi-awkward half grin. 

“Ah right, right, thank you angry one.” Points Thor with a genuine smile now as he quickly gets up before walking over to the screen depicting the red swirly like stone substance. Although soon he delves into the finding of the red mass, what it did to his former flame, that he took her to Asgard seeking help for her sickness, how he showed Jane to his mother, and then he immediately got sad and lost all motivation and train of thought on anything related to that stone.

Ah yes, personal trauma. It’ll do that to you.

Later that day when everyone was feasting on some Chinese takeout, Rocket began an in-depth explanation into where the Power Stone was found; by some guy named Quill who stole it from a planet called Morag. After some time later, Nebula revealed that the Soul Stone was retrieved from Vormir, the place where Thanos murdered her sister Gamora.

It’s been an interesting day to day the least.

Now here you are, slouched comfortably in a lounge chair you stole from the other room, flipping around a pocketknife as Natasha and Tony lay on the nearby table with Bruce sprawled out on the floor in all his Banner-Hulkness. Books scattered everywhere as the two Avengers keep comfortable on some decorative couch pillows as you listen to them brainstorm about the stones whereabouts.

Flipping the knife skillfully between your fingers an idea suddenly pops into your head, “Hey what about that time stone guy you were talking about earlier.”

Banner hums, “Doctor Strange.”

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” Wonders Natasha as you mentally question the same proposition when Tony gives his quick witted answer. “Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit-from-hat.”

“Nice place in the Village, though.” Adds Bruce, Tony agreeing in an instant. “Yeah, on Sullivan Street?”

“Mmm....Bleecker Street.” Mutters Banner as Natasha interrupts, face shifting to realization. “Wait, he lived in New York?”

“No, he lived in Toronto.” Sasses Tony as Banner reveals the truth. “Uh, yeah, on Bleecker and Sullivan.”

Tony coming back with more playful sarcasm, “Have you been listening to anything?”

Suddenly it feels like a lights been switched on in your brain, “Guys.” You quickly implore as they keep silent to listen, “If you pick the right year, wouldn’t there be three stones in New York?” Their faces all collectively shift to astonished realization when Bruce quickly sits up to look at you. “Shut the front door.”

“Well at least someone is paying attention.” Quips Tony as Natasha smacks him with a book.

——

“All right.” Begins Steve as the whole team gathers in the meeting room, “We have a plan. Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

You nod, smirking with excitement, “Let’s get these fuckers and maybe end up saving the world while we’re at it.” He sends you a proud grin and within the next half an hour are the eleven of you suited up and standing in a large circle atop the glass of the giant time portal.

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us....we lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round-trip each. No mistakes....no do-overs.”

“Most of us are going somewhere we know. That doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives...and we’re gonna win.” Affirms Steve with a mutual nod, “Whatever it takes.” He gives one last look around the circle of familiar faces before nodding, “Good luck.”

Nudging the muscular blonde, he shares a small smile with you as you quickly return it, “You practice that last night?” Steve chuckles at your amusing comment while Rocket and Scott gush over his admittedly incredible motivational speech skills.

“Just thought the team could use the confidence boost.” Admits Steve as Bruce flicks the motherboards switches to get the time portal up and running. The machine whirs to life while everyone begins putting on their helmets.

Your slightly apprehensive gaze trails to your left where Natasha is standing, she gives a playful smirk as you force a true smile, “See you in a minute.” Chides the red head as you break out into a smirk.

“будь осторожен там Romanoff.” You add, shifting into your natural dialect that she’s all to familiar with, your actual words translating to “be careful out there” as you give her one last flash of a grin.

A hot second later, your body shrinks to the size of an atom as you feel like you’re entire body is free falling out of an airplane in some strange rainbow colored portal that shifts to shimmering diamonds and then finally a blue coral type texture as you find your teams designed route down some swirling tube of blues and bright white lights until at last you land in...

“Holy shit look at this place.” You mutter in absolute awe at the large golden pillars of Asgard, there was no fucking way you were missing out on traveling to this realm. And anyways, Steve kinda made it your task to keep the potbellied god of thunder in check as yourself and Rocket attempt to locate the Reality Stone with Lebowski as your generous tour guide.

Thor smiles fondly, proudly beaming at you with a rare form of happiness as he points towards the large cavernous halls of the royal palace, “Oh this? Yeah, it’s neat isn’t it, I grew up here....played games down this very hallway actually. Me and some friends used to spar one another as children down here with wooden sticks that looked like swor...”

“Thor.” Interrupts Rocket with an annoyed huff, “Remember why we’re actually here.”

You nod in agreement, quickly remembering the current mission, “He’s right. No time to dwell on fond memories, we need to find that stone before anyone sees us. And going by the logic of literally every time traveling movie I’ve ever seen, which admittedly isn’t a lot, but it’s enough that I know no one can see us. Especially you Thor, that would be a big problem for this timeline, so lead the way.”

“Yes, right on that, good point Y/N....okay um...” He looks around for a moment before pointing in the direction of choice, which is down a long spacious hallway, “This way, no ones gonna see us if we go by the dungeons.” Explains Thor as he quickly leads the way down the obnoxiously long hallway that thankfully is decently vacant.

After about five minutes of trekking around the castles interior, Thor guides you and Rocket down a long stairwell of dark grey stone until you reach the bottom floor. There are large basins of fire lighting the way down the lengthy hallway pass, he jogs past a couple golden tinged cells holding a few odd looking prisoners on your way out.

No doubt these fuckers look like they deserve it.

You pay them no mind as Thor hustles silently across the flooring to a door on the far end, though as you’re shuffling past another cell, your eyes land on the green and black clad slender body of a dark haired man laying atop his bed. Face focused towards the white ceiling as he tosses a cylindrical piece of metal in a repeated rhythm only done by that of an incredibly bored individual.

That must be his brother Loki, you draw into conclusion while racing out of sight of the trickster god while Rocket makes haste by your side. Kind of handsome, you think as an unknowing smile finds itself onto your face. God Y/N you truly are a desperate woman. No, just no.

Eventually, Thor leads your little team of three upstairs to some large balcony type area with a grand view of Asgard, the three of you keeping hidden behind one of the multitude of intricately decorated pillars as he eyes up a woman halfway out of a giant door while she accepts some clothing from a maid.

His bearded face lights up in joy as he points a finger towards the brunette woman, “Oh, there’s Jane.” Whispers Thor as she closes the door, the Asgardian maiden leaving and walking elsewhere down another yawning chamber.

“All right.” Starts Rocket as he stands on some ancient rock covered in unknown hieroglyphics before jumping down to face the two of you once the coast is clear, “Here’s the deal tubby. You’re gonna charm her, Y/N’s gonna keep watch, and I’m gonna poke her with this thing..” He shows some strange metal device with three silver prongs sticking out of it, “...and extract the Reality Stone, and get gone lickety-split.”

The optimism off of this creature never fails to astound you.

“Yeah, what he said.” You add with a shrug in Rocket’s direction as Thor sniffs before raising up a finger. “I’ll be right back, okay? The wine cellar is just down here...” Interjects Thor as he slowly begins walking away, clearly ready to abandon his part in the mission, “My father used to have this huge barrel of Aakonian ale. I’ll see if the scullery has a couple of to-go cups.”

“Hey. Hey!” You whisper yell, causing him to stop for the moment, “Aren’t you drunk enough already? Fuck that fancy wine we got better things to do.” You urgently vouch just as some doors loudly open nearby, immediately the three of you hide behind the stone of hieroglyphics and watch as a long haired woman leads the way, a multitude of servants in her wake as she says something about giving books to Loki from the library.

“Who’s the fancy broad?” Wonders Rocket as you raise an intrigued brow at Thor, his eyes never once leave the woman’s as he takes a steady breath, “That’s my mother.” Reveals the disheartened god, a sudden sadness lacing his very words that does not go unnoticed by you, “She dies today.”

Your breath catches in your throat at this sudden tragic news of great loss, you remember when you lost your own mother by the filthy hands of Hydra and how they helped you quickly forget about her. You didn’t have anytime to grieve or even question her sudden disappearance for that matter, “Oh, shit...that’s today.”

You share a nervous look with Rocket as Thor begins taking some deep almost panicked breaths, his emotions all rising together like a swelling storm as his face shifts to an afflicted pain, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this....” Rambles Thor with a shake of his blonde mane, eyes displaying panic, “..I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come. It’s a bad idea!” Whisper yells Thor as he anxiously shifts from one foot to the other.

“Come here.” Beacons Rocket from his perch on the rock.

“No, no, no...” Deviates Thor as he waves his hands nervously in the air like he’s trying to flick some mud off of them, “I think I’m having a panic attack.” Worries the flushed faced god. 

“Come here. Right here.” Says Rocket as he points to the rock, an increase in irritation shifting the tone of his voice while Thor breaths heavily, clearly not on board with whatever Rocket’s going to tell him.

“No, no, no, guys I can’t...I can’t do this, I’m sorry but I’m not ready, I can’t...” Thwack, Thor yelps in surprise at your intentionally weak assault on his large bicep, “Y/N what was that for?” He half-offendedly demands, brows furrowed in confusion at the flash of anger racing across your sour glare.

“You think you’re the only one who lost people?” You snap as he lowers his head like a beaten dog, “What the fuck do you think we’re doing here? I lost the only person I ever loved, Rocket lost his whole family, gone, just like that.” You affirm with a snap of your fingers.

His face grows conflicted as you suddenly lose your heated aurora, face falling into a frown as you place a comforting hand upon his shoulder, “Thor, I know it hurts that you lost your mom...believe me I get it, but she’s gone. And there are plenty of people who are only kinda gone, and you can help them.”

Thor nods apprehensively as you share a small smile with him, “So if it’s not too much to ask, can you get your shit together for the next however long this is going to take so we can save the world?” 

Rocket chuckles before gaining the both of yours attentions. “Agreed. Now all you gotta do is make schmoopy talk to Pretty Pants and when she’s not looking, suck out the Infinity Stone and help us get our family back. Aight?”

Thor nods once more, face twisting into a saddened pain a he looks down to the floor, “Okay.” Mumbles the god of thunder weakly, face reddening as his eyes get glossy. You let him take a breath as he avoids your gaze at all costs, eyes beginning to water while he tries to play it off.

Giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze, your brows furrow in puzzlement, “Are you crying?”

He shakes his head, some tears slipping despite his verbal protest, “No.” Mutters Thor weakly as his tearful gaze finally picks up to meet you, “Yes..” Squeaks out the teary eyed god while his eyes flicker from the far wall to your face once more, “...Y/N, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t, I don’t know what I’m doing...I just feel so...shit I don’t know anymore.” Admits the fearful Asgardian as he avoids your softening yet slightly annoyed gaze.

oh, Thor you sad motherfucker. I’ve been there.

Rolling your eyes you gently shake his shoulder for emphasis, “Listen to me you big lion, get your shit together! You can do this. You’re the god of thunder for fucks sake, you can do this Thor.” His face turns into a surprisingly more confident expression as he huffs with a self-assured nod. “I can do this.”

“Yeah...I can do this.” Repeats the Asgardian with a sniffle.

Smirking, you give his arm a friendly smack, “Good. Now let’s do this and get the fuck out of here.” You add before swiftly turning on your heel as you and Rocket lead the way to the door, reaching it, the talking raccoon tugs on your leg before you get a chance to open it. “What is it now?”

“Y/N, we lost him.”

“What?!” Realizing Thor has indeed slipped away and out of sight, you clench your fists in irritation, “Goddammit.” You seethe before looking down at Rocket, “Whatever, we’ll find marshmallow fluff later, let’s just get this stupid rock.”

——

Racing down the palaces golden hallways, your boots thud against the stony ground as Rocket runs on all fours right behind you, “I almost hope they catch you!” You shout in between the yelling of the royal guards as they hastily pursue the two of you down the hallway.

“We got the stone didn’t we!” Snaps Rocket as you pick up your pace. 

“We gotta make it back first you dumbfuck!”

He grumbles something unintelligible before you follow the beer tinged scent of Thor into another room, he’s speaking with his mother when they quickly turn around, “Oh, uh, hello...uh, queen something.” You mutter before Rocket practically smacks into the back of your legs. “I got the thing. Come on. We gotta move.”

Thor nods, speaking some last final heartfelt goodbyes to his mother before abruptly stopping the countdown to three just so he can summon his hammer. After a couple lengthy seconds, Mjolnir falls right into his strong grasp causing Thor to laugh and smile in excitement. “I’m still worthy! I’m still worthy.”

Rocket shares a look with you, “Oh, boy.” Mumbles the raccoon as you simply roll your eyes at the bearded Asgardian prince. A moment later the three of you are sucked into the time portal once again before landing on the glass of the time portal machine.

“Did we get them all?” You hear Steve ask in wonder as you hold your stomach from the jostling ride back.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You mutter as Rodney smiles in excitement at everyone around him and the stones in their proximity. “Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Taking a deep breath to steady your turning stomach, all eyes turn to Clint as he suddenly falls to his knees, face a mask of saddened grief that sparks panic in your heart. “Clint, where’s Nat?” Questions Bruce as your face falls.

Not her, not Natasha too.

Standing solemnly on the Facility’s large dock with the teams main Avengers in various places close by, you lean against one of the thin steel beams, a deep frown on your lips while your fingers anxiously play with Bucky’s dog tags around your neck.

“Do we know if she had family?” Questions Tony to no on in particular.

Steve swallows thickly, a couple free tear stains falling down the side of his cheeks, “Yeah. Us.” Mutters the blonde gloomily as you bite your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“What?” Wonders Thor almost in disbelief as Tony gives him a quizzical look, “Yeah, no, you guys are acting like she’s dead. Why are we acting like she’s dead? We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones Cap, we can bring her back. Isn’t that right?” Adds Thor, glancing between all of you before facing Tony again, “So, stop this shit. We’re the Avengers. Get it together...”

“Can’t get her back.” Interrupts Clint dismally, eyes still set on the open water beyond the compound.

Thor’s brows furrow in befuddlement, “Wh-what...”

“It can’t be undone. It can’t.” Insists Clint, voice slightly wavering in despair; Thor then starts chuckling at the absurdity of the whole shitty situation before rambling about space magic and that there must be another way. Clint on the other hand quickly gets heated about this and promptly snaps at Thor about some red floaty guy he met who revealed once the Soul Stone is taken, the one sacrificed can never come back. Ever.

Soon things calmed down again, though still a rather gloomy atmosphere still lingers like a persistent hazy fog even after they all left, leaving no one but yourself and Steve on the dock. He keeps a steady gaze on the rippling water as he lets his sadness take its course, this is indeed a heavy blow to bear.

Letting out a shaky breath, you move from the leaning against the beam to instead find a spot next to him on the wooden bench. Dog tags still clutched in your fist as you steal a glance at the tearful man. You’ve admittedly never seen him so upset, well, you both may have shared a good cry when Bucky was whipped from existence five years ago. That was the first time you ever truly bonded with anyone from the team, the first time Steve and Natasha showed you their vulnerability. 

And for that, you’ve formed a stronger bond with them that you’d never thought possible. They welcomed you into the compound like an old friend, always treated you with respect and gave you room when you needed it. And even when you didn’t want to be around anyone, they still forced you into playing cards with them anyways, among other dumb games. Which annoyingly so, is what your sad little self needed back then.

 But without Natasha, without her beaming heart and fierce attitude to keep fighting through the unknown and murky waters, you’re not even sure if this would all still be conceivable. Or if you’d even still be here with all of them for that matter, you might have gone on an angry warpath just as Clint did when everyone he ever loved was snatched from him forever. 

So why, after all this time and pain, is she the one who had to go? It’s not fare. And your heart feels broken all over again; sniffling, you swallow thickly before turning your head a little in Steve’s direction, “I didn’t know her for as long as you guys did.....but she was, really the best of us..” You laugh dismally.

 Voice shaky as you hold Bucky’s tags close to your chest, “..If not better. She was the first Avenger I ever met you know, the only piece of my past that didn’t try to murder me on sight, actually. I liked her. She was who I needed to get me through my grief, among other things huh...and uh...I will miss her.....a lot.”

Nothing is heard except for the low rustling of the nearby trees as a soft wind blows into your faces, Steve clasps his hands together, turning to you, “Funnily enough, it took me some time to completely trust her, but now....there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.” Mutters Steve with the flash of a genuine smile as he thinks fondly on Natasha, who you wish more then anything could still be here to celebrate the hard work of finding those goddamn stones.

It’s not fucking fare.

Swallowing thickly, you nod in agreement as more hot tears trail down your somber face, “The world will owe her their lives and never even know it.....but I will, we all will. Her memory will live on if I can help it, we owe her that much.”

Steve slowly nods, thumbs fiddling together anxiously as he mutters a raspy, “Yeah.”

You rest a comforting hand atop his broad shoulder as he shares a mutually dismal look with you, “We’ve already lost so much already and she fought for this like no once else did, we will avenge her Steve. I don’t doubt she knows it.”

-

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