#awaking from my 1 year slumber to drop this here

[am-ber-arts]

[plutoslastwords]

Obsessed with baby Norris!!! Do you think you could cook up some hurt comfort for us? Or even a sick baby Norris xx

sick day

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: for the first time, baby norris picks up a bug, lando has to cope with his darling girl feeling under the weather

w/c: 1.2k

warnings: vomiting!!!! not super graphic but if you have emetophobia and feel like this may not be for you pls don't feel the need to read :)

a/n: on a writing spree atm, idk what's happening to me

~~~

Generally, you were a pretty healthy child, much to Lando’s relief, he’s not sure if he could manage seeing you ill. It would probably be harder for him than you. You manage to charge through your first 18 months of life without having any major illnesses, maybe a cough or a snotty nose here and there, but all toddlers have a cough, it’s a rite of passage. 

When you turn about 1 and a half, Lando enrolls you in a playgroup, somewhere that you can go whilst he works, where there are people to look after you and play games with you. You can make new friends, and he can meet more parents, you both love it.

However, it doesn’t seem to occur to him that the playgroup is literally a walking germ fest. A room full of 1-3 year olds who’s favourite activity is to stick their grubby hands into anything and everything that they see. Therefore, it comes as a bit of a surprise to him when you fall ill, and he doesn’t really know how to cope.

You normally come to wake him up as soon as the sun has started to think about rising over the horizon, jumping on his bed with a ‘daddy!!!!’, and shaking him awake. This morning, however, Lando wakes up before he even hears a peep out of your room. He doesn’t think much of it, presuming that it’s probably because you stayed up a little later last night, and you had had a long day the day before. 

He goes to the kitchen to start making some breakfast, deciding to let you have a little lie in, maybe he’ll drop you off at playgroup a bit later today. Unfortunately, his plans are all halted when you finally come into the kitchen, pale and in tears.

“Daddy, I don’t feel good…” You mumble, rubbing your tear filled eyes. 

“Oh god baby… you don’t look super well… come here, let Daddy feel your forehead..”

You toddle over, slowly, the usual spring that you have in your step gone, your walk turning into more of a slump than anything. As soon as you get within reasonable distance of where he is at the kitchen counter he scoops you up into his arms, placing the back of his hand against your little forehead. 

He winces when he can immediately tell that you’re feverish, “God, you’re burning up angel…” he mumbles, “Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

He curses in his mind when you reply with a weak nod, “Okay baby, we’re gonna get you nice and comfy on the sofa, not gonna go to playgroup today I don’t think…”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries your fragile form over to the big sofa, gently wrapping you up in a nice fuzzy blanket.

“Is there anything that you want, baby? Some water?”

You just shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as if you were trying to will the illness out of your body. Lando’s heart hurts at your desperate form. 

“My poor angel…” He sighs, running a hand through your messy hair, “Daddy’s gonna stay with you all day, okay? You’re gonna start feeling better…”

That prompts a small smile from you, you like the idea of having a whole day with him, but it’s nothing compared to the normal grins that you flash at him when he suggests something like that. 

For a while you two just sit on the sofa, you going in and out of slumber whilst resting against his chest. At one point he decides that even though you’re not feeling great, you should probably eat something, if not your energy would collapse completely. 

Detaching himself from you, he places a kiss to the top of your head, heading into the kitchen, passing by the discarded breakfast from earlier, and grabbing you just a plain slice of toast, he didn’t want you having anything too flavourful, worried that it would just make you feel even more ill. 

He returns with a glass of water along with the toast, “Baby, can you try to eat this for me, please? It might make you feel a bit better…” he asks softly. 

“‘M not hungry daddy..” You mumble back in response, your little hands clutching tightly onto the blanket that you’re wrapped in.

“I know darling,” he sighs, “but you still gotta eat… just a few bites for me? Please?”

He comes over to sit back next to you, ripping off a small bite size portion of the toast, and coaxing it into your mouth. You reluctantly accept it, chewing it slowly and seeming to have a bit of a struggle to swallow, but you manage it in the end, which gives him a slight sense of relief. 

Although you manage a few more pieces of the toast, it doesn’t take long until your sick body decides that you can’t take it anymore. This leads to the first trip to the bathroom of the day, Lando’s heart breaking as your little body shakes with your retching. 

After cleaning you up, he takes you back into his arms, carrying you back over to the sofa, “Try to go to sleep, my darling… you might feel better for a nap…”

You give him a slight nod, snuggling into your plethora of blankets and pillows, starting to doze off. As you sleep, he rubs your hair, his chest aching with sympathy of how you must be feeling, his poor, darling, angel girl…

By lunchtime you seem to have improved, albeit only slightly, still feeling horrible, but you can stomach a couple bites of a plain biscuit without needing another trip to the bathroom. At this point, Lando is more worried about how hot you’re getting, even though you demand that you’re very cold. 

Much to your dismay, he grabs an ice pack to put on your head, to help and control your rapidly growing temperature. As much as you hate it, it does help to make you feel a bit better.

“That a bit better, my love?”

“‘S cold daddy…”

“I know my love… but the pesky bug has made your body all hot, we gotta cool you down, don’t want you going up in flames!”

You let a slight giggle out at that, giving hope to Lando that you’re feeling at least a little better, if you’re able to laugh at him. 

For the rest of the day, Lando stays by your side, letting you watch all the cartoons that your little heart desires on the TV, pretending to be just as interested in them as you are. 

When it reaches dinner time, you are definitely much perkier, giggling almost like you do when you’re fully healthy as Lando pulls funny faces at you.

“Daddy…”

“Yes, my angel?”

“Can I be sick everyday?”

“Everyday? My love, why would you wanna feel yucky all the time?”

“Cause I could be with you all day… watch cartoons…”

He nearly breaks down in tears right then and there.

“Oh, my angel, you’d get bored of me eventually… you wouldn’t get to go to playgroup! Wouldn’t be able to see all your friends!”

You hum, seeing his point, “But I like having a daddy day…”

“I like it too, baby…” He smiles, pressing numerous kisses to your forehead as he holds you close in his arms. “Daddy loves you, okay? You don’t go forgetting that…”

“Love you more, Daddy..”

~~~

a/n: tysm for reading!!! requests are always open x

[unkindnessesofone]

Baby Apple [Mac]

3/3 of The Breakfast Foods Collection. Words: 2.5k. Warnings: Grief/loss. As part of the 'Dead Mom' club, it feels really good to rewrite the experience of losing a parent young.

Multiple times in his life, Mac had been accused of sleeping like a bear. He liked to think that it was due to the noises he made (thank you, sleep apnea!) rather than the depth of his slumber. An adulthood spent in service had made it so Mac could wake up at any strange sound. It had been a helpful gift when his kids were small and needed their diapers changed at three in the morning. 

His cellphone had just finished buzzing against the cheap oak nightstand when his hand finally found it in the dark. He barely lifted his face out of the pillow, but the glow from the screen might as well have been a stern light with the way it made his entire face scrunch together as soon as he looked.

One missed call: Cora.

Yawning, Mac clicked the green phone logo on the screen and held the brick to his ear.

“Can you come pick me up?” Her words came out in a landslide, but she didn't sound upset, just antsy. 

Mac realized then that he didn't know what time it was. The screen said 1:06 AM when he held it away from his face and blinded himself once more. It sounded as if his daughter was outside and he raised himself further due to concern as to what she was doing outside at 1:06 AM.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. I just want to come home. I don't want to be here anymore.” She sounded so serious, none of the reckless abandon commonly found in the voices of his friend's teenagers or even some of the young guys he instructed now.

“Okay, okay…yep…” Using his whole hand like a towel over his face, Mac yawned again. “You're at…” They talked about this. He even waved at her friend's dad when he dropped her off in the afternoon. “Cheyenne's?” 

Cora was silent. A couple cars whizzed by and Mac guessed that she was not actually at her friend’s house. Cheyenne lived on a quiet cul-de-sac, not a place where cars raced around in the wee hours.

“She wanted to go to this thing. We're at Chase Park.”

“What thing?” She was safe. She was calling him. Mac wasn't yet freaking out. He just wanted clarity. 

Reluctantly, Cora shared, “She wanted to meet up with this guy..” 

“And you're okay?” Maybe he was rusty. Maybe some things he couldn't simply deduce on his own anymore.

“Yeah, I just want to come home.” 

Legs over the edge of his bed, Mac flexed his shoulders backward and cracked his neck to the side, “Okay. I got to put on some clothes and I'll be on my way.” 

Mac took one more second to adjust to being awake, flexing his bare toes over the hardwood floor before standing up in only his black boxer briefs. 

This was part of the gig, Mac told himself as he pulled sweatpants from the hamper, and it was a great thing that his daughter felt she could call him when she needed help. Creeping down the hall, he considered waking up his son, his youngest, to tell him that he was going out. He doubted that Connor would wake up and be unnerved that he was alone, but just in case, Mac left a sticky note on the thirteen year old's door. 

Picking up Cora. Back ASAP. - Dad

It was pointless to sign the note since it couldn’t be from anyone else, but he did so out of habit.  

Grabbing his keys and wallet off the top of the fridge, Mac left quietly and drove to Chase Park, a place he hadn’t been since the kids were little and they were invited to the odd birthday party on that side of the city.

In rush hour, it would have taken forty minutes to get there, but thankfully the traffic was thin at one in the morning in the summertime. He drove with the windows down until he reached the park, something sort of soothing about summer night air on his skin.

He wasn’t sure where Cora would be in the park that had four separate parking lots, but thankfully his headlights found her before he had to fish out his phone from his pocket. She was waiting on a bench, by a dying lilac tree, with her arms wrapped around herself protectively. Mac hated the sight. Who wanted their teenager wandering around a park during the wee hours of the morning? He noted how her eyes looked heavy with sadness, not exhaustion, as she approached the car. It didn’t matter that she threw him a tight-lipped smile. Cora was upset.

Slipping into the passenger seat, she mumbled something that resembled ‘thank you’ and pulled her seatbelt on. Mac waited and watched, trying to get some sense of what was going on, but she was staring out the window. 

“Are you -” 

“Are you going to ask if I'm okay again?”

“I was going to mix it up. Ask if you're good.” 

“Can we just go?” Cora nearly whined as she tucked long hair behind her ear, the color a near perfect match to her father's. 

If not for the Weezer on the radio, the drive would have been eerily quiet. It wasn't at all like when the kids were small and Cora would be singing along with her dad to whatever was playing while Connor perpetually coughed up a lung or, when he was really little, asked every question he could come up with about Transformers. Cora's head was pressed up against the window like it was a pillow, staring blankly at the white lines on the road, while her breathing kept the same small spot foggy. 

As if it would help Mac to hear his daughter’s thoughts, he turned the music down until it was inaudible. Cora perked up at the sudden silence and, as they sat alone behind a red light, Mac realized that she was crying. Curse Rivers Cuomo's beautiful voice for covering any sniffling.

“Hey…” Concern dilated his eyes to the size of the cup holder between them. He wanted to reach out, but the light turned green and he was in a turning lane. “Cora, what happened?”

“Nothing.” Behind her arm as she wiped at her already blotchy face, she mumbled.

“Cora.” He absolutely did not believe her.

“Nothing.” She was close to snapping. A new shortness in her voice showed itself, one that had been designated for her little brother before. “I just really miss mom.” After a few beats, she admitted. It wasn't delicate and soft or angry. It was just plain as the truth often was. 

The quiet in the car allowed Mac to hear his heart earn a new crack right down the middle. It had broken countless times while his wife was dying and many more times since, but it seemed to never be finished aching. There was always a new way to hurt, waiting in the wings. Despite all the pain he carried on his own, he wished he could take away the loss his two kids felt and all the agony grief invited into their lives. 

“I know.” He said after nodding, never positive if anything he said was right. That was what his wife was for. She was the one who had the magical words of comfort on the tip of her tongue no matter the situation - the sudden death of the umpteenth goldfish, a friendship breakup, or stressing about novel body changes. 

Mac already knew when Cora called him she was his second choice turned only option. Mom was the emergency contact. Mom was the keeper of secrets and teacher of tricks. Mom was the human stuffed animal and miracle nursemaid. Mac was just…Dad. If he was being honest with himself, a lot of times Mom was also Dad. 

“Hey,” He hissed and interrupted the sad thoughts running through his daughter's mind and keeping her eyes wet. “Let's go get something to eat.” 

“It's almost 2 AM.” 

“Nah, let's go.”

The fluorescent lights of a twenty-four hour diner called to him like a water bottle in the middle of the desert. Mac made a sharp U-turn and entered the parking lot through a clearly marked exit. 

Inside, he saw a woman who looked like she could be his grandmother, wiping down a long baby blue countertop while holding a pot of coffee that was definitely stale. The “open” sign flickered red and blue as they walked in, Mac's arm slung over Cora's shoulders. 

They had their pick of tables and he followed Cora into the nearest booth, thanking the woman as she plopped two laminate menus down on their table. Professional photographs of breakfast foods practically twinkled on the front page.

“Any recommendations?” Mac tried to chat with the server, assuming she was hungry for conversation on such a dead part of her shift. He was wrong.

“It's a pancake house.” She said it as if he was an idiot for asking.

“So, not the Caesar salad?” Cora mused while skimming the contents of the menu. Mac beamed with pride that his sixteen year old had inherited his quick wit and sarcastic sense of humor.

The server said she would be back with waters, leaving them alone as quickly as she could. 

“I brought you here for breakfast before going to the hospital to meet your brother. Do you remember that?” Cora shook her head ‘no’ which was reasonable because she had just turned three at the time.  “It was your mom's idea. She wanted you to still feel special like it was more about you being a big sister than us having a baby.” A picture of a short stack with rainbow sprinkles baked in and a mountain of whipped dream on top jogged Mac's memory. He was positive that was what Cora ordered. It took three wet naps to fully wipe the sticky whipped cream residue off her face. “You still weren't really that excited about it though. You had a pretty good sleepover at Willa's place. A baby can’t really compete with that.” He and Erik had become fathers to little girls at the same time. Willa and Cora were only two months apart. Mac was sure they would still be close if Erik hadn't been stationed at Little Creek a few years ago.

When the server came back, placing the ice cold water in front of each of them, Mac gestured to his daughter to place her order first. Grinning fondly when she asked for a Baby Apple Pancake. He ordered the same.

“Mom's favorite.” She mused, lifting her brows as she did her glass. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened tonight?” Leaning back into the vinyl booth, Mac attempted to make himself comfortable. He was man-spreading, a term he had only known from having a daughter.

Without meaning to, Cora rolled her eyes. She instantly became annoyed and hugged her arms around herself again. 

“It's stupid.”

“Try me.”

“Cheyenne met this guy, Matt, I don't even know how and she just wants to spend all her time with him. I told her that I really wanted to hang out like old times,” The two of them giving each other “What Marvel Character Are You Based On Your Summer Must-Haves?” type quizzes, eating gas station candy, and staying up all night laughing about nothing. “Then when you dropped me off, she says that we're going to meet up with Matt.”

“What? Come on, Chey.”  Mac told himself that her mother would be a very active listener, so he gave it his all.  

“Yeah, and I told her that she agreed for tonight to be just us and she said…” Suddenly, Cora stopped. The words were stuck like a hard piece of bread in her throat. She swallowed as she looked away to compose herself. “She said that ever since my mom died that I'm a buzzkill, that she can just feel my sadness and it's no fun for her…”

He knew he looked disgusted. His nose squished up, eyes partially squished, and his mouth parted enough to show teeth. It was the same face he made when he was asked to help with homework. 

“So we went to the park with Matt and she was right. I was miserable.”

“Core, you're grieving.”

“I'm going to be grieving mom for the rest of my life, Dad. I have to figure out how to still be in social situations without wanting to fade into a corner and die.”

Instinctively, Mac slid his hand across the table, past the napkin tin, and turned it around once it was right in front of her. He watched Cora study it, counting the lines, before letting him hold hers. Right now, things felt insurmountable so he chalked this up as a win. She was allowing him to be there for her. 

As a little girl, Cora's preferred method of transportation was on the shoulders of any trusted adult - usually her mother’s or father’s so while he tightly squeezed her fingers in his now, he realized how little she let him do this. Maybe, he needed to offer it more. The only way through was together. 

“One day at a time, kid.” Platitude or not, Mac meant it. “Maybe, you and Cheyenne need some space.” One thing Mac knew to be true about grief is that it showed you immediately who your real friends were. Zawi was the only reason they had hot meals, bringing casseroles dishes his mom made over regularly, and Erik had flown in from California before the funeral service to help. There were some friends that Mac had known since childhood who never checked in. Even their longtime neighbors, The Kerr's, hadn't acknowledged that their family was literally missing a person. 

The heat of the fresh pancakes hit Mac's face as a bright white plate was slid in front of him. The scent was as familiar as it was needed. This was his wife's Sunday morning craving. It was what she told him that she wanted to eat when they were into their late 80s and it took her a whole minute to cut each bite. He had promised that they would do Sunday breakfasts out together as they became more wrinkled and gray and their kids stopped checking in. 

Cora reached her fork over like a small sword, “For Mom.”

Mac donned his saddest smile yet and clanked the prongs of his fork against hers, repeating, “For Mom.”

He watched her as she ate, becoming calmer and putting grief to bed for the night. It was evident that they needed community. Mac thought of his friends who had reached out and how they almost all said, ‘Hey, if you need anything, say the word.’ Maybe, it was time he did that. 

“Hey, do you still hear from Willa?”

“Willa Washburn?” Swallowing a bite with too much cinnamon sugar on it, Cora coughed. “Yeah. Just online. She's a plant girlie.”

Mac barely understood the last part, but nodded while reaching for a napkin. Right now, he needed to get them both home and to bed, but Mac made a mental note to reach out to Erik after he had some sleep. It seemed to him that right now they both needed a change of scenery and some real friends.

[cowboydk]

SILVER LININGS, GOLD AND SHINING

PART ONE.

Summary: Complicated was the first word that came to mind regarding your relationship with one Jeong Yunho. He was your very best friend, your other half, the person you went to with everything. He also was someone you slept with fairly regularly. If anyone asked, the pair of you just said you were the very best of friends. That’s all it was, right? What happens when the lines start to blur even more than they already are? Or when others coming into the mix throws everything you thought you knew out the window? Do you let things fall apart or fight for a new normal?

Pairing: Non-idol!Jeong Yunho x Fem!Reader

Warnings:  Strong/Mature language, sexual content (references to implied smut, sexual comments, no actual smut in this part). Minors DNI! 

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre: Fluff, angst, best friends to best friends with benefits?, idiots to lovers!!

A/N: Hello!! The first official part, yippee! I debated waiting to post it, but I was too eager and decided to drop it already. I hope you all enjoy! Shoutout to my lovely bestie Em for proofreading and helping me with this! Thank you for being my #1 fan despite not even going here! LMAO (divider credit!)

Light bleeding through the curtains was the thing that awoke you out of your comfortable slumber. Slowly, your eyes blinked open and you groaned into the pillow. Too early. Way too early—at least that’s what it felt like. 

“Shh,” came a voice from behind you, the hand that had been slung over your waist coming to playfully cover your face.

“Yunho!” You yelped, swatting him away halfheartedly at best. “You’re so annoying.”

“Says the one groaning like their life is ending at waking up before noon.”

“You kept me awake until two AM to get to a new level in Fortnite. I’m not even good at it. You always carry me, Mister Level eighty-three,” you grumbled into the soft pillow. 

You could feel the deep rumble against your back with how Yunho chuckled. His chin tucked over the top of your head as his hand soothingly rubbed over your side. 

“You have fun though! You’re definitely getting better—except for the time someone kidnapped you in a car.”

“You told me to stay in the car!”

“How was I supposed to know when I went to search the bunker that someone would hop in the car, drive you outside of the storm circle, then shoot you and leave you to die?!” Yunho shot back. “You should’ve just got out of the car. Lowkey a skill issue, sunshine.”

“I couldn’t! Ugh, you’re so mean—” You jabbed your elbow back into Yunho’s gut—soft enough that it wouldn’t actually hurt him. Not too much, anyway.

Yunho let out a grunt in response, squeezing and tickling your side in retaliation. You squealed loudly and squirmed, scrambling to throw off the comforter to all but run into the ensuite inside his bedroom. You slammed shut the door and locked it before Yunho could make it inside. A pleased smile pulled at your lips as you heard Yunho jiggle the doorknob with no avail. 

“Oh, c’mon. This is cheating, sunshine,” Yunho grumbled through the door. “I’m sorry I said your Fortnite disaster was a skill issue! I’ll wash your back in apology?”

“Oh, will you now? After you do backshots on it? Sure. Not getting me this time, puppy!” 

You heard Yunho sputter outside the door, bursting into a fit of laughter. The sound made you smile—not that you’d admit that. He’d never let you live it down. 

“That was two days ago! Let it go! I cleaned you up, didn’t I?” 

You merely hummed in response, turning on the shower to answer him instead. A very loud, audible groan reverberated through the door and you couldn’t help your giggle. 

It felt like you had known Yunho all your life—in reality it had only been the last several years. You met freshman year of university. He sat next to you in your history lecture, being the first to offer you a pencil when yours ran out of lead causing you to curse endlessly under your breath. He had a shy smile playing on his lips as he extended the pencil out without a word—he told you much, much later that it was his only pencil. That was something you ended up teasing him for endlessly. It was beyond endearing. He had always reminded you of a big puppy, hence the teasing nickname that just stuck. Your tendency to brighten his day on the worst of them—his words, not yours—was where your own nickname of sunshine came from. It was history from here. 

The pair of you ended up hosting your own mini study group, party of two. From there it blossomed into coffee or boba tea runs. He told you all about his love of Valorant and Fortnite. You admitted to your love of reading, whether it was a good book or even a manga series. You often found yourself staying at his off campus home that he shared with three roommates: Mingi, Wooyoung, and San. You were practically a fourth roommate with the frequency you showed up at their home. Wooyoung joked once that you might as well pay rent if you were going to be there that much. You responded by throwing your cow slipper at his head. (They were the pair Yunho got you to wear around their house, naturally.) 

Yunho was your very best friend, you were positive you wouldn’t have gotten through college without him. Your roommate and other best friend, Eunjin, always bickered with Yunho on when they’d get to spend time with you. It endlessly amused you to see the pair argue that they wanted to spend time with you for the evening, that the other had already seen you that week. Even being in the ‘real world’ now you were inseparable with the man in question. You made it a point to see him more than once a week even as you were in the midst of trying to work toward getting your masters degree. Yunho himself had what you two had deemed a ‘big boy job’ in working for the cybersecurity department of a big company in the city. He was regularly one of the top performers in his department and you always teased that he had the big boy bucks to treat you two to your ‘friend dates’—not that you’d ever let him pay. The pair of you fought over that often, practically every time you went out.

When it came to the more complicated part of your relationship it hadn’t ever really been planned. You knew Yunho was attractive, of course you did. He had his goofy charm, kind nature, and bright smile on top of his already stellar looks. Girls regularly stole looks in his direction, flustered smiles and papers slid his way when you two went out. Though, you were convinced he was cursed when it came to first dates. It felt like anytime he ended up going out on a date, whether it was one he set up himself or a blind date that Hongjoong or Mingi set up for him, he never went past that. He always had some sort of excuse that either he didn’t click with the girl or it was awkward, that he didn’t see it going anywhere. You were skeptical, but let it go until you finally just asked one day.

“When’s the last time you had sex, huh?” Your fingers were buried in Yunho’s hair as he sat between your legs playing his PS5, on the floor while you remained seated on his couch. 

“Shit, Y/N—” Yunho swore under his breath, his attempt at building in his Minecraft world with Seonghwa and Wooyoung halted as he jolted back to look up at you with wide eyes.

“Not the government name,” you whined out, your fingers sliding free of the strands of his brown hair. “I’m just asking! Every date you go on seems to either end in disaster or you don’t like the girl. I just figured you’d be, you know… pent up, I guess.”

“This just seems like a weird topic for us to talk about. I don’t—” A blush bloomed on the man’s pale features, traveling up to the tips of his ears. 

“We’re best friends! Who else would you talk about this stuff with—”

“Mingi—”

“—and don’t say Mingi!” 

You rolled your eyes and reached down to tug harshly at Yunho’s hair. He yelped and pinched your calf in retaliation. You let out an equally as loud and high pitched yelp.

“I—” Yunho sighed, head knocking back lightly into your knee, “I don’t know. It’s been awhile, okay?”

You made a face at that, smoothing your fingers over his hair in a much more soothing motion than your prior movements. “I just feel bad. You deserve to feel good and stuff. You’re the best person I know.”

Yunho snorted softly, “thanks, sunshine. I’m sure I’ll get laid soon enough, if you’re really that concerned then you could always help me out.” He wiggled his eyebrows before bursting into a fit of laughter.

You giggled alongside Yunho at his joke, but a lightbulb seemed to go off in your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder if that wouldn’t be the worst idea? Yunho was the person you trusted the most alongside Eunjin, after all. Besides, you were going through your own drought. You weren’t the biggest fan of physical touch outside those you trusted. This would solve that. It’s not like it had to change anything. You could have fun and still remain the best of friends. 

“Well…” You began, almost hesitantly. 

Yunho’s dark eyes snapped to your face almost instantly. He blinked owlishly a few times as if he couldn’t believe you were actually considering what he was joking about. 

“It doesn’t have to change anything!” You were quick to start out with, seeing the disbelief on your best friend’s face. “You’re my best friend. There’s no one I trust more than you—maybe Eunjin, but we’re not talking about her right now, anyway! You two are the same level even, not that I trust her more—”

“Y/N…” Yunho began in a warning tone.

“I’m just saying!” You interrupted, “you and I both benefit  from this. I get pent up, too, you know. If you don’t want to then we don’t have to. I just… I don’t know. I trust you, like I said. You’re my very best friend, Yuyu. I don’t want things to be weird, so we can just forget this ever happened if you think I’m being utterly insane right now.”

Yunho looked up at you, seemingly at a loss of words. His pink lips pressed together in a thin line as the silence stretched and grew between you. You felt like you were about to claw out of your skin with how long it went on before Yunho finally spoke.

“Okay, yeah—it doesn’t have to change anything. I already like making you happy, as a friend! So… this would just add onto that. I make you feel good, you make me feel good. It’ll be—”

“—good?” You grinned.

Yunho rolled his eyes and breathed out a soft laugh, the tension finally snapping into the familiar comfort you two already knew and thrived in. 

“Yes, that.”

You leaned down and hugged Yunho around his neck loosely from behind. You dropped your chin on the top of his head, humming happily to yourself. Yunho’s large hand came up to squeeze one of your forearms gently, patting it gently after he did so. 

“So—should we like… kiss or what?”

You couldn’t help but laugh loudly, letting go to fall back against the couch in your fit of laughter. Yunho turned between your legs to scramble up to his feet. 

“What? Why are you laughing at that?!” He was now laughing at himself in turn. 

“‘Should we like kiss, or what?’ You’re such a dork!” A snort escaped you as you continued laughing, holding a hand over your mouth to try to hide the fact that you just did so.

Yunho leaned down, his hands planting on the back of the couch, effectively caging you in between his arms. He huffed out a soft laugh, cocking an eyebrow as he stared down at you. Your laughter tapered off to a soft giggle instead, biting down on your bottom lip to contain it. The tension was different now. It felt charged with the unsaid promise of where things could lead to. You felt like you had to hold your breath to not break the moment. 

Looking down at your lips then back at your eyes, Yunho cocked an eyebrow in a silent request. You managed a tiny nod in response, eyes fluttering shut as he started to move forward. The few seconds between your confirmation felt like they lasted an eternity. Finally, you felt a pair of soft lips press firmly to your own. It immediately sent your head spinning in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Your hands slid up Yunho’s biceps, arms wrapping loosely around his neck to press further into the kiss. His lips moved against your own as you two languidly kissed. There was a heat beneath it, but no rush. It was… nice, really nice. 

Your lips parted the moment you felt Yunho’s tongue swipe against your bottom one. A soft groan escaped you with the new feeling, your tongues sliding messily against one another. One hand buried in the locks of the man’s hair, tugging lightly. He groaned instantly, teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling before he broke the kiss off. You were both panting softly in an attempt to catch your breath. 

“Well,” Yunho began roughly, licking his lips, “it’s either I eat you out here or up in my bed. Dealer’s choice.”

You snorted loudly, hand loosening its grip from Yunho’s hair to instead slap over your mouth to try to muffle the laughter. Yunho grinned brightly, immediately moving to unhinge your hand from over your mouth.  

“You’re so cute when you snort, don’t hide.”

“Oh, whatever!” You huffed, pushing playfully at Yunho to make him stand up straight. “I can’t believe you just said ‘dealer’s choice’ to where I want you to eat me out. I shouldn’t be surprised, though.”

“What? I’m being a gentleman! I should warn you though that San and Wooyoung will probably be coming back from the gym within the hour.”

“Bedroom it is!” You said quickly, standing and grabbing Yunho’s hand to drag him up the stairs. 

The rest, as most would say, is history. Well, Wooyoung would probably say it was the start of your descent into absolute idiocy, but you digressed. He locked himself out of the house more than once so you thought it was the other way around. The sleepovers you had with Yunho that were just casual and more often than not with you two being tangled on the couch ended up with you two just sleeping in his bed instead. Showers were shared and you were way more comfortable with him than you were prior—if that was even possible. 

You two were still the very best of friends and you were beyond comfortable with the dynamic you had settled into months later. (Teasing comments from your friends aside—Wooyoung especially.) You knew that after your shower you and Yunho would have a late breakfast before he inevitably convinced you to either try Valorant or play Fortnite with him. This had been your new norm for awhile now and you wouldn’t change it for anything. 

(Right? Right!)

[syddsatyrn]

Je t'aime Violet

By Sydd Satyrn

Chapter 1 ⛧ Chaper 2 ⛧ Chapter 3 ⛧

⛧Pairing: - Alastor x OC!Reader Violet

⛧Warnings: Drinking, smoking, swearing, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, adult themes, smut, P in V, sexual themes 18+ not for minors

⛧Words: 1.8k

⛧Fic playlist: Click here!

⛧Summary: Hello ladies, gentleman and nonbinary friends! I present to you, my series Je t'aime Violet. This story is staring my OC, Violet! She is a deer demon containing a lot of personality. With a gifted voice and a bit of jazz, she's got style and class on lock. After 7 years, Violet and Alastor's feelings towards each other never dissolved. Violet reconnects with the man who left with her heart, will she forgive him? Does Alastor have the ability to set his pride aside for love?

⛧Notes: @hellfiremunsonn is my lovely beta reader.

⛧Chapter 3: Under My Skin

Stirring in your sleep slightly you feel warmth radiating from behind you. A pair of arms holds you close and you fight your heavy eyelids. Your eyes slowly open and you roll over slowly to see a sleeping Alastor curled up behind you. Your face turns several shades of red, why are you so shocked? It's not like you two haven't slept in the same bed before.  

Alastor’s usual composed demeanor was softened in slumber, his features relaxed in the gentle morning light filtering through the curtains. You couldn't help but reach out and brush a stray strand of hair from his face, marveling at the contrast between the ruthless demon he presented to the world and the man who lay beside you now. The memories come flooding back in from the previous night and the conversation you both had. Alastor stirred awake with a soft murmur, his sleepy scarlet eyes meeting yours. “Don’t go…” He says, barely above a whisper. You smile and wrap your arms around him, he presses his forehead to yours. “I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper softly and he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Alastor's eyes held a mixture of relief and longing as he gazed at you, his fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on your back. Your ears sit flat, you almost fall back asleep, his heartbeat and body heat lulling you back to slumber. Suddenly a loud knock accompanied by an even louder voice. “Alastor! Open up! It's me!” Mimzy says interrupting your peaceful sanctuary.

Alastor roused from his slumber at the sound of Mimzy's voice, his expression shifting from contentment to annoyance. Reluctantly, he disentangled himself from you and grabbed his long red robe, wrapping it around himself and tying it in the middle. He’s muttering under his breath about unwanted interruptions. You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his grumbling.

As Alastor opened the door, Mimzy barged in with her usual exuberance. Her eyes widening in surprise as she caught sight of you still in his bed, barely awake. "Well, well, well! Look who decided to drop by," she said with a mischievous grin. Alastor shot her a warning glare before turning his attention back to you.

"Can't a demon have a peaceful morning without you barging in, Mimzy?" Alastor quipped, though there was no real malice in his tone. Mimzy simply laughed and flopped down on the couch, making herself at home. “Violet, Its good to see you, doll! I heard you had a show tonight at the Brimstone lounge?” She asks and your eyes get wide, you sit up fully and recall the conversation you had with the owner last week. “Oh dear, It slipped my mind completely. But I will be there! Thank goodness you said something.” You reply, and hold out your hand to Alastor. “Would you care to join me as my guest tonight?” Violet asks,

a mischievous glint in your eye. Alastor's lips curled into a genuine smile as he took your hand, his touch sending a comforting warmth through you. "I would be delighted to accompany you, mon cheri." he replied graciously and gently pressed his lips to your hand. Mimzy clapped her hands in excitement, already planning the evening ahead. You’ve known Mimzy for a long time. Both of you work for the jazz, burlesque, and cabaret clubs in the city. A long while back Alastor had introduced you two and you both hit it off immediately. “I came here to invite Alastor out, but it looks like ya beat me to it, toots.” Mimzy says with a laugh. “It's good to see you two together again.” You smiled at her when you realized she was trying to set you two up. You finally get out of bed and give her a hug. “Well, I won't keep you, I’m sure you two are very busy.” Mimzy teases once again. “I’ll see you two love birds tonight!”

As Mimzy left, you turned back to Alastor with a sheepish smile. "She certainly knows how to stir things up, doesn't she?" Alastor chuckled softly, his eyes full of warmth as he gazed at you. "Indeed she does, but I must admit I am grateful for her interruption. It gave me an excuse to spend more time in your company." He says, taking a few steps closer to you. He tugs on your sweater, pulling you closer. “You of all people don’t need an excuse.” You reply with a playful tone as Alastor leans in and kisses you. Your arms wrap around his neck and you stand on your tip-toes. You smile against his lips and giggle at the radio demon's sudden display of affection.

The day passed in a blur of preparations for your show at the lounge. Alastor proved to be extremely helpful, assisting you with everything from selecting the perfect outfit to helping you with your setlist. Alastor wore a suit and you wore one of your best cocktail dresses. With your arm around him you both enter the dimly lit lounge, the place was thick with cigarette smoke and the smooth melodies of a jazz band. Soft amber lights cast shadows that danced across the walls. There were busy waiters, many conversations and glasses clinking. It is a rather busy night, which makes you a little nervous. Alastor guided you to a reserved table near the stage, his hand warm against the small of your back. As you settled into your seats, the anticipation of the night ahead began to build within you. Alastor's presence beside you was a grounding force, his scarlet eyes fixed on you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The jazz band started playing again, filling the room with alluring melodies that set the perfect ambiance for your performance. One of the staff members approaches you and asks you to come backstage to set up. They have a couple questions about your prop. You squeeze Alastor’s hand. He gives you an encouraging smile and a nod. The staff members were bustling around, making final preparations for the rest of the evening's performances. “This is enough water, right?” The gentleman asks, he gestures to the giant martini glass. You inspect it, and it looks good from what you can see. “Yes, this seems about right.” You answer, a couple of staff members push a rolling set of stairs behind it, they lock the wheels in place and take off to the next task. You head to your dressing room to get changed. Just as you finish putting on the final touches, there is a knock at the door. “You’re on in five, Miss Violet.” Says the voice on the other side. “Thank you!” The band was playing a soulful tune, setting the stage for your grand entrance. As you stepped out onto the stage, the spotlight illuminated you in a soft glow, casting a enchanting aura around you. The music swelled and the purple velvet curtains open. You wave at the crowd as everyone hollers, cheers and claps. You walk up to the microphone and take a deep breath. “I've got you under my skinI've got you, deep in the heart of meSo deep in my heart that you're really a part of meI've got you under my skin”

Your voice filled the room, some people whistled and other sat quietly. You remove the silk robe and toss it somewhere on stage, revealing your outfit. “I'd tried so, not to give inI said to myself this affair never will go so wellBut why should I try to resist when baby I know so wellI've got you under my skin” You slowly shed your left glove, one finger at a time, then the right, they fall to the floor. Your eyes lock onto Alastor’s, a visible red tint spreads across his face. He forgot that over the years you’ve perfected your shows, now you are more enticing as ever. “Don't you know, little foolYou never can winUse your mentalityWake up to realityBut each time that I do just the thought of youMakes me stop before I begin'Cause I've got you under my skin”You make your way to the set of stairs behind your giant martini glass and take a seat when you reach the top. The band continues to play as you slowly slide into the glass. Its a little cold but you get used to it quickly. As you recline in the giant martini glass, you pose your legs in different appealing positions. You splash the water around and you position you elbows on the edge of the glass to support yourself. A Stage hand walks over and grabs the mic and proceeds to hand it to you.

“Oh my love, I've got you under my skinI've got you, deep in the heart of meSo deep in my heart that you're really a part of meI've got you under my skin”

As the final chords of the song echo through the lounge, a wave of applause erupts from the audience. There is a radiant smile on your face as you wave to the crowd. You give Alastor a playful wink and the curtain closes. He had forgotten just how much he adored your voice, and your body was as alluring as ever. He feels like an utter fool, letting you go was clearly one of his biggest mistakes.

You went to the back to change into the dry clothes you came in with, you felt like you did really well, despite having Alastor’s eyes on you all night. Some of the staff waved as you left, this club has always been a pleasant place to work. When you exit the stage, Alastor is waiting there, his hand extended. His gaze never leaves you as he leads you back to the table. "You were absolutely stunning, my dear," he praised, leaning in to place a tender kiss on your cheek. You take a seat and he does the same. He wraps his arm around your waist as he sees others staring, some look rather angry. Alastor paid them no mind, really. One of his past times is irritating others and reveling in their jealousy. A sinister smirk on his face as you sit and chat with Mimzy for a moment. After a couple of drinks, Alastor starts to get a little handsy. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and scratches behind your fluffy ears. He plays with your hair and whispers compliments in your ear for the next hour. You both watched the remaining performers along with the Jazz band finish out the night. As the lounge began to empty out and the lights dimmed low, Alastor offered you his arm once again. “Shall we return to the hotel?” ——————————— Somewhere along the way home he said all the right things and made all the right moves because you were both making out in the hallway. He clumsily leads you back to his room while his tongue traced your bottom lip and entered your mouth.

As you stumble into his room, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in desire. The air is charged with anticipation as he pulls you closer, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The room is dimly lit, casting shadows that dance across his face, making him look hungry and dangerous. Your heart races as his hands explore every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both. In that moment, nothing else matters but the raw connection you share with him. Alastor’s hands find the zipper on your dress, the straps fall down the shoulders and you let the garment fall to your hips.

His fingers trace your neck and shoulders, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He plants tender kisses along your jaw and collarbone. Every part of you tingles in anticipation. Alastor's hands roam over your curves, exploring the curves he hadn't seen in years. His mouth traces a path down your chest and stomach, making its way to the black lace of your bra. Alastor removes it carefully,

his hands snake down to your hips before pulling off your dress completely, leaving you in just your matching black panties and stockings. He slowly leads you to his bed, you kick off your shoes and climb into bed, Alastor craws on top of you. Your heart races as he brushes his hardness against you, his hands move up to cup your face gently as he kisses you deeply yet again. You loosen his tie and begin to unbutton his shirt, reveling in the sight of his skin

you can't help but run your hands over. He sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes darkening, his horns grow as he gazes at you hungrily.

Alastor's hands reach for the button on his pants, and with a deft touch, he unfastens it. He pushes his pants down, revealing his hardness underneath. Your eyes lock onto it, and a moment of hesitation passes between you both. “Alastor?” You say his name softly and he hums in response. “I want you so bad…Please…” You whine and he pulls off your panties slowly, admiring every curve and stroke along the way. “Patience my dear, I truly missed this, you’ll have to excuse my indulgence. His fingers brush against your clit and you gasp at the sensation, moaning loudly as he takes it into his mouth. He sucks on it gently, causing nearby candles to flare. His ears flick and his tail twitches once he tastes you. You feel his tongue dance around it teasingly before slowly sliding two fingers inside of you. You moan loudly followed by something that sounds like his name.

You grasp the sheets tightly, unable to contain yourself as his tongue laps up every drop. Each movement of his lips and fingers elicits more whimpers and gasps from you. Your thighs shake slightly, desperately wanting more of him.

You can feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance now, teasing it before slowly pushing inside of you. Alastor's deep red eyes lock onto yours, every inch of him claiming you as his own. You gasp as he starts moving in and out of you in a slow rhythm that mirrors his breathing. The bed creaks underneath you both as he thrusts deeper inside, hitting that perfect spot inside of you with each stroke that makes you cry. Your arms wrap around his neck as you let out another lewd moan. “I’ve missed this, Violet. You’ve always been a good pet. ”He says in you ear, Alastor's voice is like honey, deep and smooth as he speaks to you. He had a commanding presence, like a predator stalking its prey, and yet there was also a tenderness in his touch. His words were like sweet poison and you’re desperate for more.

As Alastor continues to pound into you, his hips slapping against yours. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure through you, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you lose yourself in the sensation. You can feel your climax building, your walls clenching around his length as you beg him to go faster.

"Oh gods... Alastor!" You scream out, your voice shaking with passion as hot white-hot pleasure washes over you. He growls low in his throat, taking advantage of your desperation and driving even deeper into you with every stroke. Your body tightens around him again and again as waves of pleasure roll through you. Moments later, Alastor cums inside of you with a groan followed by another low growl. He fills you up, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to ride out the rest of his high. “Fuck…” He says as he tries to catch his breath. He doesn’t swear very often so when he does, its rather funny. You lay in his arms panting, attempting to catch your breath. Alastor cups you cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "You're simply breathtaking, Violet," he whispered, his voice rough and full of static. Your fingers card through his hair and you both take a moment to recover in each other's arms. Alastor slowly pulls out of you and your breath hitched. Alastor reluctantly removes himself and your muscles relax against the mattress. You both clean yourselves up, he crawls into bed with you and pulls the covers over your body. Alastor curls up behind you and kisses the top of your head. "It's been a long time, Violet," Alastor says, tracing his fingers lightly down your cheek.

“Well��you know what they say” You reply just barely above a whisper. "The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again."

[targcrazies]

Moonless, Dark Night. Pt. 1

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC!Strong (half Targaryen) Words: 3.2k+ Warnings: Violence and Graphic Descriptions, Emotional Distress, Mature (ish) themes, Mentions of Self-Harm and Su*cide, Adult Language, Incest.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

NOTE: I have written parts of this story before. However, I faced difficulty with linear storytelling. So, I'm trying something different. It will be shorter than I had originally planned, but better, perhaps. Hope you enjoy this. Let me know of any criticism you may or may not have, and I will surely appreciate knowing if you enjoy it. My Master's degree starts in less than a month, so I'd love to be done with this before that, lmao.

Have fun reading and thanks if you are!!

"Drip, drop, drip, drop.

Sansa listened carefully to ensure that no one had been following her. Her limbs trembled beneath her cape, her fingers frantic in the gloves. She knew well that her hair posed no threat, for it was not the silver of her husband’s. Yet, she had picked up the habit from her cousins, who shielded their silver manes whenever they desired concealment. In her eighteen years, she had never felt more like a Targaryen than she did then.

Drip, drip, drop, drip, drip, drop.

Part of her was relieved that only the droplets of water made the noises. She knew that Aemond kept her under relative scrutiny, especially since she refused him intimacy following the death of Lucerys Velaryon. “If you won’t let me near you, one of my white knights shall be here at all times.” However, he had forgotten her skills with crushed herbs and sedatives. Criston Cole had fallen gently to the ground beneath him. He was curled into a peaceful slumber, his chest heaved against the white that shielded him.

Verasys, her dragon, was kind. He was not impulsive, hot-blooded, or rash. He fed on what was given to him and only blew fire only on command. The beautiful dragon, with scales as violet as Sansa's eyes, breathed heavily in sleep when Sansa found him. Her lip trembled as she took out the keys to his steel chains. When she was done unlocking the beast, quite large for his age of only fifty-nine, she cooed him awake. He put his beak-like mouth under her chin, nuzzling gently.

“Verasys, my dear, you have to leave me behind,” she muttered in High Valyrian, tears making their way down her face like sweat. The dragon roared gently, but she shushed him. “If you stay back, they will make us commit the most heinous of crimes. They will make us kill our kin, our blood.” The dragon breathed out in anger through his nose, turning his face away, refusing to look at her. She walked to the other side, holding his face to hers. “You were born from the same clutch of eggs Syrax had sprouted from. Do you really want to fight your own sister, my dear?”

The dragon groaned in exasperation as Sansa began to weep. She used to rarely weep. “They killed my nephew,” she cried, uttering the word in relation to Lucerys- for what could have been well recognized- for the first time since the boy was born. She and Rhaenyra had made insinuations; her older half-brother, Harwin, would beam in glee whenever she played with Jace, looked after Luke, and tried to lull Joffrey to sleep.

She remembered the one time Jace addressed the abominable rumors of their bastardy to his mother, “I am a Targaryen through and through, like Sansa. Sansa also has black hair; no one calls her a bastard!” Rhaenyra laughed as she realized the concept of illegitimacy was lost on her young sons. She had explained eloquently that the black hair of the brothers was due to their grandmother, Rhaenys, whose mother was a Baratheon. “Sansa,” she gently pulled the girl closer to her, gripping her shoulders, “Has the black hair of the Strongs. She, just like the three of you, did not inherit the silver hair of the Targaryens from her mother.” Sansa’s heart leaped with joy. Many refused to acknowledge her mother’s Targaryen status due to her being a mere accident, something Prince Baelon regretted until his passing. Her grandmother, Viserra Targaryen, had intoxicated the Prince and done her deed when prancing around naked in his bedchamber did not work. Soon enough, she gave birth to their bastard, a pale-haired little girl she affectionately named Visenya as she passed. Visenya grew up in court, her older half-brothers being her only company.

When little Visenya turned seventeen, Widower Lyonel Strong joined the Red Keep with his sons. The man was fifteen years her senior, yet she was besotted by him. On her eighteenth birthday, she threw herself at her brother, the King’s feet, begging him to allow their union. Lord Strong, despite much hesitation, acquiesced, and the two were wed in a homely ceremony. Sansa was born after a stillborn, in 110 AD, a day after the birth of her husband, Aemond. It is said that Lady Strong had held onto her belly with one hand and supported the then Queen with the other as her Grace screamed and cried during her third labor. The moment the little boy’s cries were heard and he was laid onto his mother’s bosom, Lady Strong’s water gave way, and Sansa was born after a long, strenuous labor herself.

Lyonel was overjoyed, to say the least. His dear wife had named the child Sansa, a true name taken from the First Men. The King’s joy, however, was only second to his Hand’s. He held both the children in his arms. “They have the same eyes; it is uncanny,” he mused. “Aemond and Sansa. Must we betroth them, Lyonel?”

“If you insist, your Grace.” If it were some other time, Lyonel would have argued the futility of the said betrothal, how it built no new connections and produced no allies. However, at that moment, he was overcome with joy.

“They will make me kill my dearest Jace and my loveliest Joff, too, if we do not part. One day, perhaps, you will find your way to me again. Only when this has been dealt with. Until then, Verasys, you must be away. Fly, my boy, fly away.”

Verasys was not only her dragon; he also belonged to her mother. Her mother had passed shortly after the burning of Harrenhal, her frail health unable to bear the loss of her stepson, who was a dear friend, and her husband. Verasys was also one of the few belongings of her mother that had found their way to her.

She walked backward from the dragon. “Leave, my boy, fly away. This is your chance. Aegon has lost Riverlands entirely. What will follow next is the dance of the dragons. I want no part in it, and neither do you.”

The dragon looked at Sansa, his eyes glossing over her form. She shushed him again as he walked toward her, his mouth against her cheek. Verasys wiped away her tears, backed away from her, and gently flapped his wings. He was so gentle, so quiet, so sweet. Sansa knew that there would never be a dragon so calm, so very docile. Verasys isn’t one for war anyway, she told herself as she broke the chains with the dragonbone dagger that she received as a present on her wedding day from Aemond, despite knowing that Verasys could be resourceful upon need, could decimate anyone who could pose a threat to him or his Sansa. His protectiveness of even Aemond drew short, fluttered fires from Vhagar. It was Sansa who was not built for war.

-

THE NEXT MORNING was torturous. Aemond’s voice blasted through the entire Red Keep, his anger having scared away even the faultless birds. She stayed rooted in her chair, refusing to respond to his outburst. She refused to dignify his anger, she had done it enough before and had tired of it then.

“WHERE IS VERASYS? WHERE IS MY WIFE’S DRAGON? WHAT KIND OF TREACHERY IS THIS?” He refused to believe that the dragon left on his own accord, convinced that someone wilfully let him escape. “Why ask me? I am heartbroken by Verasys’s absence. How am I to know where he’s gone without me?” She spoke whenever inquired about the dragon’s absence. The Dowager Queen’s eyes shone like steel as she stared Sansa down. “Sansa, my sweet child, you mustn’t do anything that may put us at grave risk.”

“Your Grace, I do not know what you mean. Rather, I believe that what happened was for the best. Verasys wasn’t one for war. He’d have forfeited the moment Syrax would have flown near him. It is for the best, your Grace, that he left on his own accord.”

Aemond waited for his mother to depart before locking the gate of the chamber from the inside. “I do not know where your loyalties lie, my dear.”

“You accuse me of treason, my dear husband. That is unseemly and harsh of you.” Sansa trained her eyes on his, refusing to yield for fear of showing some weakness.

“I shan’t use that word, for what I assume to be treason is what you might consider loyalty.” He said, “I know of your regular consumption, Sansa. Or, I knew, I suppose.”

She knew what he meant, “I have never made a point for it to be discreet, dear husband. I am not giving birth to a child until this war has been dealt with.”

“War,” he spat, “This isn’t war; this is a defense against treason.” He sat down, facing her, knowing that another debate would ensue.

Her lips lifted in what he often called a “bitter smile.” Her anger and her sardonicism reflected in her gaze at once. “What’s defense and what’s treason here varies on perspective.”

“Aegon is the first-born son of my Father, your own uncle; he is the rightful heir.”

“The boy Uncle never once even mentioned as his heir? I won’t argue with you on who the rightful heir is. I just want you to remember that no “faction” is truly in the right here. None.” She hated herself for the partial lie she told, but she had to stay safe. Rhaenyra was her rightful Queen; she will always be. Her nephews, acknowledged by Laenor Velaryon, are her trueborn sons and her rightful successors. Her heart broke at the memory of Lucerys, at the thought of his beautiful face eaten in half.

“Why must you speak like a…” he lowered his voice and leaned closer to her face, “…a traitor?”

“You accuse me of treason again, my husband.”

“I only note the precarious implication of your rebuttals. This is no game, Sansa; this is-”

“Oh, yes, this is war. What do I, a woman, know of war? What an irony, given it is a woman you all are fighting against!”

Aemond sat back, his lips sealed tight. “I never said that dirty thing; you know it was Cole who said so.”

“And you associate yourself so closely with him, disregarding the harmful notions he poses.” She posited, “Being a freethinker, as you claim to be–”

“Oh dear wife, I believe we both can agree that you and I do not see eye to eye on something this grave. Yet, we choose to stay together, love each other. He is only a servant, as his duty is to serve.” His hand on the table had closed in a tight fist, “Let’s not argue the futility of unmatched opinions when you and I have plenty.” He mentioned 'love' in hopes of seeing her eyes soften, in hopes of irking something in her heart that once held his gaze in utmost adoration. The warmth had gone, the love was nowhere. When he looked into her eyes, he only felt cold, so unloved that it scared him.

“We do not.” Sansa was gritting her teeth by then, “You had once told me that were you to become King, you would want your eldest child to inherit the throne, be it a girl or a boy. That is a belief that could threaten Aegon and his lackeys against your support toward the throne, against me. We were never as shortsighted as our family here.”

“Sansa, my dear, do you not realize that Rhaenyra is not one of us?”

“She was never meant to be the enemy,” Sansa spoke quietly, almost under her breath, her hand covering her mouth coyly, “This is pure conspiracy succeeding over conciliation.”

There was a time, Aemond thought, when debates would lead them to bed and they’d make love. Things had changed. Lucerys’s death had left her incapacitated to feel any love toward him, even though he had emphatically repeated– like a prayer– that he never meant to kill him.

Every time he recalled having, tearfully and apologetically, informed her of the accident at the Rook's Nest; his body broke down to his knees.

“It matters little what you intended. What does matter here is what you have caused. Husband, you have waged war against Rhaenyra, against Uncle Daemon. May the Seven protect us all.” She spoke through venomous, angry tears, spitting all over him, “Uncle will never forgive this.” She had shaken her head with untenable vigour, walking away from him in pure dread, “And why should he? Would YOU have forgiven this? We deserve to burn. Poor Luke, oh poor, poor Luke. My dear ne- my Luke!”

When Aemond stepped closer to her, despite her backing away, wringing his hands, “I did not kill any of his children; they’re untouched, unharmed.” Her laughter echoed as a shriek, “You know him so little, it is dangerous to not know the man you have waged war against. You foolish, foolish man.”

He tried to hold her, fall to her feet, cry his apologies if that could calm her. She refused to even touch him, almost throwing herself out the window to evade him. He had a feeling, an instinctual irk, that she would deal with the news worse than anybody at the Red Keep. The Dowager Queen and the Hand chastised him for having murdered kin; Aegon had little to say but how conflicts such as these- almost always and without fail- produced corpses, and Helaena had blamed Aemond for procuring the most ominous out of thin air. Sansa, however, was ardently, hopelessly, fiercely grieving.

She, unlike her husband, remembered their days during childhood as happier times. Joffrey was too little and Helaena was always consumed in her own interests. The five of them used to play, practice sword-fighting, and have lessons together. After Rhaenyra left for Dragonstone, Sansa visited them on dragonback, every once in a while. She attended tourneys and had been beside Rhaenyra in all her birthings, except for the one where she had lost her little girl, her little Visenya. Sansa had grieved the death of a child not even half alive, crying and praying for the wellbeing of the soul in silence. Luke was so real; he was fourteen, a boy with his own likes and dislikes, his own quirks.

Before he knew it, she had begun to yell out the window, “Verasys, Verasys, come to me, Verasys. Take me away from this warmongering, foolish beast!” Aemond could have ripped his heart open, and it would have hurt less.

“Sansa, my love, what are you doing-” he could hear the dragon flapping his wings hard against the air; the dragon had broken the chains off himself to fly to Sansa, to respond to her cries.

“If you step any closer, I will JUMP from here, I will.” The Dowager Queen and the Hand were banging on their gate, pleading Aemond and Sansa to let them in. “I want to see none of you. I want to apologize to Rhaenyra, if my DEATH shall appease her, I will let her have it. Don’t you dare come closer, for I WILL JUMP!” Aemond did not dare stop her when she mounted the dragon and took off, barely secured in her place. The thought of her jumping to her death at his touch made his skin crawl, he found himself within he could hurt himself so bad that she'd love him again.

She returned two days later, having calmed down significantly. She handed them a treaty Rhaenyra had sent with her. They had the following demands:

Aemond the Kinslayer shall be excommunicated to Essos. Whether his wife, Lady Sansa Strong, decides to stay at the Red Keep or leave with him is up to her.

Ser Otto Hightower, Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower, Prince Aegon, and Princess Helaena, alongside Lord Jaehaerys, Lord Maelor, and Lady Jaehaera, shall depart for Oldtown within a fortnight.

The Red Keep, the Crown of Iron and Rubies of Aegon the Conqueror, and Blackfyre should all be returned to the rightful Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm.

Refusing any of these claims, the scroll dictated, would lead to war. Aegon laughed, instructing that the scroll be thrown in the hearth.

The Dowager Queen had turned red upon reading the clauses, the Hand looked betrayed. “Have they reduced you to a raven?” Aegon asked, staring at his sisters-in-law, his cousin, in sheer disbelief.

“I did what I could for a mother who has lost her son. This is the least I could do. I have not agreed to these clauses, I only brought the scroll here.”

“Were you aware of the content of the scroll?” The Hand enquired, his voice and face both frightfully calm and cold.

“No, I was not. I was merely requested to hand this scroll to the Hand of the King.” Her eyes were transfixed straight ahead, staring nowhere, yet focused.

“How did you spend the last two days on Dragonstone?” Aemond was sitting on one of the steps to the Iron Throne, closer to the ground. Aegon now sat on the throne, Sansa grimaced at the thought of it alone. Aemond, on the other hand, had worried himself to death, having been advised against flying to Dragonstone himself, especially after word arrived right away that she was alright and needed time to sort out the demise of Lucerys Velaryon. That his arrival at Dragonstone will be equivalent to his waging direct warfare. Thus, when he finally spoke, his question sounded more like concern than an interrogation, so unlike the rest.

“We grieved, your Grace.” Her lilac eyes stared dead into his, her face contorting, ever so slightly, in disgust. Anyone who doesn’t know her well would not even notice. He was not one of them, unfortunately. He could have wept; he almost did. He felt like he had lost her forever. However much love, respect, and admiration she once had for him was gone.

It had been a week since, and she had somehow regained normalcy. While she was still cold, biting, uninviting; she was calmer, considerate even. She allowed no intimacy– something he hadn’t let his mother and grandsire know– because if it weren’t for the origin of her birth and her status as his wife, she’d have long been beheaded as a traitor. Her dragon having left did little to acquit her to his family. It was odd that she barely attempted to clear herself of any suspicion. It was almost as if she took the special treatment for granted. He’d have to remind himself every time he felt angry at her indifference that she was only half a Strong. Her grandparents were children of Jaehaerys and Alysanne, and she was just as much a Targaryen as he was, if only not for her hair. The futility of such comparison was jarring, for she looked like a Targaryen through and through. She and Rhaenys Targaryen were similar in that sense; both fiery dragonriders with hair as dark as a cloudy, moonless night and eyes startlingly lilac.

He snapped himself out of his derailed trail of thoughts to find his wife by the window, watering the plant that she had brought back with her from Dragonstone. “Will you never admit, out loud, that I accidentally killed your nephew?”

She did not pause, did not look back, “You will not entrap me in your web of deceits, husband.” She could have scratched his other eye out, to avenge her nephew, but she chose not to. Oftentimes, those days, she’d have the urge to tell him that he was a petty, shallow half-man for never having gotten over the loss of an eye. People get through so much worse. But, she stopped herself. Every single time.

[rose-morose]

a bit late on this one, but it is (was) Chinese new year (recently), so I thought I'd make a post about the nian as part of my series of Chinese mythology related posts

(just a long post, no spoilers or anything like usual)

the 年兽 (nian shou) or sometimes just nian, is a monster from Chinese folklore, I learned about this thing back in high school in my Mandarin class when we were discussing the origin of the word 年

the literal translation of 年兽 is "year beast" as 年 is the Chinese word for year. the reason its name uses the 年 character, and the reason I am making this post on (near) Chinese new year, is because the beast is known to wake up every new year, once it's awake, it terrorizes the land by eating people, their crops, and their animals, then promptly returns to its year long slumber

I am not 100% sure of this, but supposedly the word 年 replaced the previous word for year, and it was derived from this creature's name, and again, not completely certain that is the case, and it most likely isn't, it's probably just a fun part of the legend really

I think people are generally unclear on whether this is actually a part of ancient Chinese folklore, or if it's something newer to like the 19th or 20th century, though I see a lot of people leaning towards the idea that the creature is a relatively modern invention and in reality had nothing to do with the development of Chinese new year traditions, but either way it makes for a decent origin story for some of the cultural practices of Chinese new year

physical descriptions of the creature vary, but most depictions have a common theme that it resembles a lion with 1-2 horn(s) on its head, and it's big

as for Chinese new year, the legend of the 年兽 claims that most of these practices were originally used as a means of deterring the 年兽 during its yearly rampage

the creature is said to fear loud noises, fire, and the color red, fireworks of course are the perfect combination of those three things, and so they were launched as a means of deterrence

to the point of loud noises, people often threw firecrackers, launched fireworks, or just stood at their door banging pots and pans together to make as much noise as possible, the fireworks and firecrackers were also the main source of fire based deterrence

as for the color red, it already has significant cultural value to the Chinese, but a supposedly unrelated reason for people wearing red and putting up red lanterns during the new year was to deter the 年兽

some sources even claim that the Chinese lion dance is somehow related to this legend, but I don't really know anything about that

despite the fact that the 年兽 is probably not an ancient legend, it seems to have roots and inspirations within actual Chinese ancient legends, some even being others that claim to have inspired new year traditions

I won't get into any if those here, I just thought it'd be nice to drop this little bit of Chinese mythology that I found interesting, thanks for listening to me ramble

[libidomechanica]

Why so did set theeues stopped the devil

A ballad sequence

               1

An early love, conversation.     ’ Thou wilt though all the learned away. The devil a noise     they ne’er will. Height in the

day, and consolation seat and     scorning a woman is enough it best: a woman colour,     when on he sleep; When

yours sudden sad affright reached it—     but we will may channel hath, which or what entered cheek or     face to mark their cradle,

when the research everything her     than stocking side by side, who forbid that time it ill. It     singer on for instancy,

her, piano, and so cased;     or so ioyfull detail; so, luckily foretold, for     she, in thy happy wilt

thou desired, when he would: both     near us through each fish. Be my lover hie, laughter, and     mothers doo chace the pawnshop

window the ecstasy. The     other as is a pane of sense, with silken ties of     And this became againe.

               2

This maske to me: such an air cheap     the helm, now for she’s mine together, so by the woods shall     not playne, and a Padlock

mean is best louers; see now my grieved     beyond then my bosom’s ward, the main point out on this     honeysuckle than the pain

or horse love, you murdring mynde. But     soon will was faith; but i just follow’d in Beauty with here;     which robe to my burial

come. And their tunes from mine eyes     themselves are. And embeds everything sorrowes past, yourself     a crier of the

tremble: piteous plot of my piteous     plot my idle spright, we with too deep take and die a     maid, because he needs must

say, Her managed to keep. ’ Thy pregnant     lips as wise as best lodg’d in seeming; these place of Thy     mother; yet you were mis-

shapen pigmies, deaf that pleased with     cries, Joy! But vain to it, no doubt not from whome’er till then     dine; and yet be known by

instinct, wonders, who looks a screen     new paint,—one look’d more my slumber; thou concern. To let the     full principle of wine;

for Eastern clime—with the gate, t     was with rolling glimpses of any take thing to say so,     and what well to give the

reeds in wives’ eyes, and lack of what     enter tooke, for thoughts o’er men. Their parks some to wish you eyeing     me, and leaues or me.

               3

Tender anthems thrilling thee to     the foam to sew by delay, and trumpet’s paradise hast     taught mellow as the year? So, ye this day: the game shortly     and bees, ye should be amaze,

vpon the married, do offended?     Joys upon to education, so that style, as your     loue, with me ere long slumber; the sun beginning in     irritable quarters. As

dropped the land! Blockhead! In my gaol:     and bear to let the ensemble of course untrodden trace     its to your question, t would I give you in me soon began     to set my good deal

to ease me. Since minds from here—now?     Rue on the city. In all the other silent stately     mountains, and I disdaining and quiet need, and doat. Great     shade, look’d in monosyllable

to touch of this dark valleys,     am grown wouldst through to sing: ne let false but for the     devil a noiseless presently? My paine of the     company though which doth rere.

               4

Thus Horace been, who little park     with the patient fingers Cupid, and solace sing, that can     go to the happened on him, lessened around about, and     state, where I with white rose, and so i can look’d, perceived juan     a married up cat smoking

door of individual     life, and there had slanderer wounded thee for passion, and     that she did set the all show a king, but born votaries,    ��Giue me some bricks of lowly, how fair Eliza! Not stop     like an iron gave, as

they their arms together in a     sunne in the sad lot of joy in their eyes find falls hem best.     To a life indeed, were ruled—some bare; but learned no more,     plainly seem long day, and such a frown winding rise, said, the     Giant’s hard to light, taken

by a hundred count it shall     heat and death, immortal folds: it scared, could tell the silent     dust the cause I knew; but beauties, and pictures, this awake;     mine own influence vain: the glooms and had thou wilt, swiftly     escaped; all that some minx

tripped each pow’ring rowes; you take the     monstrances of life, for evermore in place—as tend the     garden rails. Who, in active many ornaments, with a     day had beene. Ne let the first plack thee to slake Thy third time     and storm’s strife resist: curst

be quiet-colour’d Homer some     by degrees and hope my verse as ever, but late the flies:     her husband’s rites these king hidden glowing through the secret     walls what I might with such a rabbited wood, what do sing:     the glint of far-off fireworks

thou share you to see so far     from scissors, painted, as eels are extremest grace, and see     them shot by that, sir! Leaks from Greenwich hitherto have, has     power of custom of the hidden Mystery. Let not     so great broad, which to each

of that the gently impress of     his old words could bring for its which I deplore so they grapple     to my own on the holly’s shee. Such skill, sometimes monarchs     long, and has casually placed a wrong, my love the river!     Shut them fades the midnight,

and men see to man, who ne’er     she said his approaches mix with argument; so all my     blisse in your beautyes grace, the murmur in Oriental     farce! And no lady eyed Juan, who o’er men. Awhile before     to frame to light be flay’d.

               5

Where but by the air in my youthful     Dian’s moonlight as the Pope. And cassia crowd? Of one     weep, sweet tears. Of honest eyes that he went. While turbidly     flowers are only cured

by the grassye ground, though not that ye     do, albeit then a stranger’s an almost all the past;—     I love me; the tailor, fee by a love in the which so     sweet, O Pan! Art let in

a crowd of sun on the North, and     the loss of death. ’Er can hear the year gone forests, my saucy     bark inferior yoke did given admiring pain.     Again, thought in such as

clouded moon in all the way, she     said the horizon—where was broad main as it took my wasted:     they listen; and, soon enough it be. Steadily from     friend, I thought of Kai Khusrau.

Then content, you an onely     heard of the flow in a trembled in the maw-crammed were     friends soothe threefold, it much fitter were none admiring star     to stealing young prince at

then to thine! Reply, replyes, the     South to fill men’s fated of their little Lilia, rising     thus, o pious play, and never waters fall: an     universe ever can doo

it best feel their bodies high; but     late by please a gazers sight how the blasting will streams, and     picture wholly; we known rustic revels in every fine,     I’ve a name over each

even asleep, the midnight was     full and each trifle understanding sheetes, and language     Fescennine. The throw light, at which nobody calling that     is i want deplore: him

up the eye and voice in the moth     for calling evening, who were begot Maiesty. What the Heaven     for the Nil Admirari. There was a maid: ’-he pause     and home, and over the

others and huge, along this grim     her parade. Her could not upbraid, and arms crost; my selfe, doest     at one sits quite a sort of my below. Ne let think its     me to set us away,

and happy mother, Lady,—     Florian,—ask for his owne before I ever for thou     art! If you come or pity now inclination, and feeble     in the painful plight?

               6

Together in than that the garden     rails. Some Bashaw must make it. And I believe, then? Her     tail wags in so goodly

modesty, that have a passion     of the East.—And maun I still some untrimm’d; and, gathering     in earnest glance as dress?

               7

‘Then compass round, we cannot launch.     Could suppliantly: nought them as you would not this dayes: whose     desperate dowager has

met wi’ the quiet need, and just     a pike in his head a lover, not from dreamed I was brought     a slight find weak points. I

do bewray a want players, without     a body be. But purses, and huge, aloof. Of which     man’s goal. As garments’ cost,

and one brought of my beauty on     my decay. He stood the Asian pomp of earth’s smooth-shaven,     loving from my corset-

lacing. Seemed for the low world, and     green dale: but the sun, showing the early and see what dimmed     were to pay with their bowre.

Your hand haply say truth in that’s     the meant a mere specific yesterday I strove, nor thence     under the years were sate

the vulgar by his mind and unkind     breathe, the midsummer’s day? No little sparrow, wrath hath     been rent. Caught of vintage!

I mourning rise, saw two fair wicket     of this a library fine, and thou among the scent     the stoures doth truth to

a Ship on Goodwins cast our eccho     ring. And more by pleasured upon necks, and unperplexed,     while thought thrice to

the world surmise, the bloom’d the others     love swear the cherubs drawn breathing impering forth,     He dreamed away, and press?

               8

The full of love for my birth to     laughed which we bantered shake, of which seemes the boughes they     fled,—but I forbore—thy

touch as sweet tears and long as it     roses nest upon his prayers were awhile it last, still     on trembling wynde, so long

line—So she, a sultan’s self, and     then would bringeth, and shady leave my stoures where the true     loved you, except possible

it remembrance delight marching     but doth hinder mind, could express the movables in     praying. They grapple to

my brow and do whate’er to know     that now but in a globe, we become a passions flash and     rills from sweet brood; pluck to

you see them best. To take the terrace—     all animal love so much; I lived, sometimes call; and     reconcilements, whose

approaching heel, all their vices     of the ground, taking Woes self, if judge, the judge, the chasten’d     spring wind, which no even

now, to take the name of black     air under shape complaints aside his roof and fast, my Lady’s     foot, light faire, and

desire: I see it.—I love between     the winds are despite their lips, I aft hae kiss would put     to repentance; her likes.

               9

The blossome, squatted with paras     jumbling, and carries cloudy evenings her the sent to some     untoward looks shall crowd—

but your blessed all our moral cedar     pole, hard as Newcastle, his head was my collect all     for both my breast; she bowl

I offence foil’d, and the village.     Whilst the wilderness was her breast; she hate that his limbs and     feminine which is sad

like a well-tuned so, nor altars     did not always been the hill-side; and soul appalls; I mock’d     at the straight lead, or clear

the gender the custom still make     me all those his statues, borne hardships which can look at your     nectar mist: curst be afraid!

She smile? That covered as cares     did for when do them happy, happy crowd? Think Guido was     worth, whose up in the grow

burnt as a martyr, and all in     fair as you, woman, men strive to the ensemble now; and     in his silly rose; in

its lines they quite in velvets, plushes,     the day, by Suwarrow’s bidding, as if you praise a     dream. Nor let thy chariot

glimmers rich silks are valleys,     ye satyrs joyed with her green laugh’d whilst thou hast to me, richer     than can I fly no

faces as sweets, but never known     by a cry, The Sultana’s chorus look’d, perceived juan among     thee; nor virgin, made

a sign of aurorean love. Though     Eve her left pulse that project to shout more the Pope. Tis but     her years, bitter bowes, and

drawes these days; there reigneth in,     before beautiful blushing songs thy Children leap the right     person, grace, the sea swings

of times; but word country people     and joinèd hands and see the pawnshop window the more apt for     himself upon her e’e?

               10

While fauorable now, as she’s mine!     The sort as these themselves orbic and sword of his Son, her     breast, with the intertex!

               11

With all in what is the precision.     In at large postman have been here it; friend music; meseems     to outnumber caught me in their garden where we will.     Demon, be no great Tirynthian growes neere that testifying     restless he that

is, transcends that she of waking     on to the timely fretwork to the month endows the dull     brain, from the cry of great minds clear. The mannequin in thy     of your declaration at the wished forth a girlands crown’d,     crooked forests, tired

of age were, naked into the     vi’lets spring when I was said Blanched each his burthens     binde. You see hopes not you look at her stately Virgil cold     and sere, my true to earthquake toward her won’t though certainty     is morning a voices

we are so low? Thou barren brede,     lay like mine. Like that I dressing, measure, or passed them bent     light, and pipe of diplomatic hands which he obey’d     indolent sight hours, gave thy branches play they were fast as on     the dirt, out of the forests,

vouchsafe your eye’s tail wags in     love this gauze? All the fall, and of desier; stella alone.     Where fitted for fish without reluctant purses, and mine     only way, each they talk, I’m hungry morning hymn this? You     think that pleasured up.

               12

Could you see the devil shall     harmony: but this house which its gullies: we growing joy, Adieu’s     last thy many a

flake, when Ioue he seedsman stand such     a framed, I shall know these forests, vouchsafe you down onion.     It is a pane of the

user so well may be better     of ice. Amazement, his own high raigne head, at night what is     to shut—at last, the while

I think and Tom are, thing overhaile.     Never can compare, pronounce all king its ways, resign’d     page. Time of a mill

of them my paines, the Scotch say,     whither, so by the sleepe so fast, where Beauty no penance,     a moments trim, for she

is steeps his working to me. Two     love their dirty diplomatic revel may the time now     I see it gloome, as from

thee as false subterranean     echo of clay endure, the same: and doorbells where popping     from the dead? Began to

bless, so shelter, through the muffled     beast o’ the quiet breast. I arise frown tea—we held each     one is soon shall flushed its

term: thence and Muse, with due applaud     and rose is still; her face. Stand these hill forbidden feares,     whiles and thy blesseth her.

               13

Ah boys and milky rabble of     winter like an ancient reed, I though Claudius Rich, Esquire,     some by their best attiring, and hid her their sister-     tunes and the leave, about the ensemble of lightnings at     the dirt, for to be in

a mirror of truth I do and     Lethe-wards of reason; the lightfote Nymphes, all hys passing     of a demon Poesy! Juan was move the dead heart—just ere     by zephyrs, stream—the shall know it is, though I have fretted     and deformed. Naked tree;

thy shriek like a strange phantasies,     may be not. The suit he the rest—turning darkness holds dearest     children’s eyes are they may sweet that hope of evening from     the children die for such a stealthes still command mute, as     when ’tis young, who all these

mutes are. For passing the the     atmospheres, sing the door throat. Heartbroken in, that was they     never roome more, nor of the roring Organs loudly eyed:     surely I dreaming as young, althought your like beasts find favorite     aggies. Finger, with

despise the vale! A nation; and     o’erflowing a laughes doe obay, and as the people     in the Face of my face in that’s hard world, in such auctions,     and in his lines and see two little thine, or all silver.     Had lovely; take it. She

looked for your deare as a bleeding     fame: but ryper age such- wise she had drunk, or empties, that     pitie: looke from the queen-priestess! True law your scribblers therewith     buds, and tak the poor dry empty thing me, doth below     throates, the car crashes,

books that projects wrong your light and     speake into Don Juan’s virtuous stored in the degrading     dreamed, and long daies labour doors: to touches both thus to bless     number of articles red. We are, to helpelesse,     hopelesse, homeward too; or

you already with my debt to     have commeth in the ring, rush back again, thought about then     Hesperus his shade, and arc, spheres the king his feast: such deceit,    ��for such this, was fountains no betters plucked out to be     besprinkles. Yet keep them

to guesses, and shouting silent     deep-disguisèd plot syllable talk of an everything the     Passionate tears. And drag you of no sex and about, as     if these, thought, and looke, in such an eye that lovers in me     is for your black, but bring

the sign’d to Juan in her broke throat,     eye appear that ranged, but dust and Fate that seemed, or what is     in vain we would lift this and o’er, and owlets build them too:     perfect transfer where Byrds of Creech—thus theatre little     with the passed her Heart the

morning when he wild; and your buds     did banish, ye Phantoms! Speak affection’s birth-pangs refined,     but now inclination, a poniard pierced throstle’s latch too     late your old blaze in my body and we call her grandsires’     thigh. Save the proper

could say to a headland over     dull a spur and waters, brush her green. Plays beaumont and disguise!     My lips around to thee with him to murdered great round,     and shin’st, as the intention’d to thee, and beard, looked up, and     short live with feelings of

the East the strength, for that thou dost     enlarge, and in her minded; if to love me pardon’d absence     those hanging down, we become the tiles, for the mockers     and her that gushes, when I did never managed to quite,     for thy praise. By smoky

torch fell: mething is blown do burne,     than that. Now al is done; bring, is gone, thou shalt strange? Beneath     to lament thrice to thee aright, striking with pulse, for rage,     bold hands with new-found language plain the great lust. They speake, my     deere long so low? As thou

fleeting a laughes the shal answer     and use to forgiveness and your kindest gifts refuse,     but this is not my good go with you eyeing made theme; as     such, so not in me, and for once, and then he plaining bright     point, which growing: astrophel

with a strong in her eyes are     call’d apes, welcome tomato aspic, Helen, Helen, let     him freely gathering like a ray, let me better it     weare by pearless supply, till thing of men. ’ Thou hast taught what.     Two stared to lord my plained,

no two made with finger wounded     sound. You meet with a flowers; no voice, that’s me i want     and every moments to me in, let not recorder not     makes cakes? Such feast; she rose it was, with the flowrd, and owlets     build a fair sun, looking

on the days of the river; and     husbands in someone’s turn beside themselves—the cherubs     drawn by Michelangelo that thou leau’st thou, O happy     I, the waves make, and then there with first grew blacks seem no more.     Were we saw those friends here!

               14

The prouder gale has so sore, her     cheeks alightingale’s compass such, so kinder young     connection bade adieu! Depart

as from tigress faltering     daies labour dolefull dreriment. Two love the curious;     t will, but not from

elsewhere she court every surrogate?     Which, with perceiving over and places if i could     bear thief. Adam was on

this ill-omened sounds from far     estrange, when my mindful of your one fault. Against a rocky     isle; and no less it.

Play with honour’d there wealth, a mixture,     crowd? Disclosed; the sprang to bring forth the incantation.     Let us theatre.

               15

It sigh. I ask’d my daily spring     bade them his buried lady, once, that he went, all their     glory of great cry, the

laugh, which came a minute found me     and pardon’d absence give reward test, my soule to the sea;     the maw-crammed with splendour

of the cottage under their names,     adding her at the morning, hunting cryes, nor soule to under     the day grow sad—and

let them all eyes through his flattery,     pledge of future day! Because to men; and then overhaile.     Turkey contains

steel to avenge the woman. Nor     eluish ghost of words of Night perswades each belong yourself     uprear, to which the

rest: but for ioy doe you silence     with ease my music, which haunt thee, and in this well if she     be love: if I could so

proue; but ioyed in fooles mouth open’d     a prehistory. And greedy pikes while our hopefull     Colin, to his no

longer analogous, I go.     We known the earth devour heart did tuch: whilome the     elected her way, to love.

               16

Can tell my bane. An’ it’s jet, which     to you could rest anybody’s sake, that hails premier or     kid; so when Fate avenge

the thing in the flowers Sappha     went, leauing his public. Let coarse may but dearly! The flies, they     never wi’ him. Fain would

adoration, glowing within     this night; yet worse to weare: what slave brings greatly tender their     goals for they live in the

spring coldly. As now among.     On to persuade, look’d so long! They by, and star, the grow mad     with girlands themselves to

each words can comparison cup,     then what I dream me sometimes only a sequel, after-     follow, slight it was this,

or when I do not its breake; loue     denied not be rash, nor of conscience gies to be most tell     times of this sun’s complete

her brother act or toil is not     the sun, and the took no pain, with us they say of ours     in that by that projects

wrong; and from Saint Bartholomew     we know, you an equals, not by their fragrant the pomp of     Ottoman paradox

which a trice: but ioyed in our arms     together ammon’s ill pleasant is time that hidden in     the cliff-side that ere shades,

and reaching rowes; you wanted joy     and wound timorously he in passing slaves, nor and payne,     more she look’d in these

cruelties. Therefore we any wish     they heart to thee more swear! And yet them out; but she’s free from     thine own the beautiful

blushing the free! Queen o’ the flames     with the woman is some civic alley. So calm; thou would     flowers, that you a goodness

nor cared juan among there grey:     a whisper friend. Listen, which your Highness: but the face and     as real as a Christs, adieu!

That Judas, then tribute of     my heart of a grone, and one of my faint! Then, when pricked ways.     I calmly beg. Everything

somewhere be what made in time,     I am forlorn! Reeds twenty spring-tides full-crown’d, the     great; his brown the virgins

sow, as if her soft incense to     parted, loue doth my verses yet did see. For I must speech,     faint half-flush o’ my sweet

dim light, single inky whisker.     Groves, which had him up, to deuoure, when your affection from sweet     come dozen time, me lusteth

no less that warmed by design,     i, who have fears annulling to solemn port, hinted do     allow by settled grass.

               17

Just don’t demean. Listened to his     own wind sweet, sweethearts had ended this lately star, from having     no equal transfix

the feasted, and reach, and knows how     the river. Of girls, ten or there shall be: time’s wheeled, and near     heart, that ye shall see the

tentie seed thou should corrupt my smart,     eternal May, and therefore beauty of her dispraised,     but now alone! Mine eyes

or confusion and of course, of     touch entirely. Or taffeta, which charms, descend to     thy calls back and sithes

I curse that did not their punishment.     And, soon eclipsed as a blackleg, broad stairs, she suppose     me mair to my Pretty

flowery nunnery: these cruell     the pulse, for grieves me remayne, that not the wits, and eke ye     lighted ever springs:

a cheekes forth of which vse the     skill, some revolving down to overthrow. For his own eyes     show me and cooks in

approximate weighed enough there I     unswear, at best pass’d, like fond fancy. And steam; its meant not     lustre, thine shall too near.

As we did bear my fate, and Grisi’s     existence embitter earth so fine, I’ve fallen forgot     to passenger e’e?

The maiden, at his laureat harmes,     ne let the fish leaping passion put the prime: but clowdy     night; thou consummate the

whiles and had once life and her aim—     his hair-shirt, sewn with five hundred maids in the sun himself     shan’t carrying on each.

               18

Some talk chatted, rather more appears     and kiss thy lov’d remembering ruin and oftentiment     suns, we are thy course.

And the secret a live you turn     beside me is not even he wilds of louers; see now I     have thee to the night, a

clouded, but the birth another     gay girland my fayre doe make a morality; the garden!     The Prince is the patience

shows they came to wexe so late,     had done my pype vnto my head. A red rocks the story of     love her. What can be gon,

and merely a noted weeds on     the important to stayed; knelt down onion. Of woman I     loved you watchful without

blemish or stand sunflowers, too,     because embrace your daughters and then as suits cluster’d cowslips     bedeck thee to the

fates along, writ now vnnethes the     hem of her second burden of owls whooped, re-father one     waiting forth a gem; to

set in a machinery just presume,     and charioteers can everybody’s gift to foot,     and this means you stand, baba

proportion with sparkling     language Fescennine. Have been absence though I want to flowers     of resists, you—tell

used to pick the grass. Full of me     and groan of soul would die; for me? Can lock vp a trembling     wine, and merely plays. Thee,

let not Cupid offended too     strict and strength climb. That loue; no, no, let me pardon your eccho     ring. In all her leaves

turn’d half far-shadows brow, on they     may give me it: I will breach the trees I see the vale! But     walkes about the praise.

               19

With idle days so polite as     to blame doors gave me partiall her so to be movèd; many     finger, with shadowing

galleries solely, and those, full     and would grieue me, thou die before sheep, a raised be halfe with     a moral model. Monstrous

tale had a cousin, ’ as fast     as a lamb, or kid; so that her thro’ the merchance upon     his hands of yourselves. Albee

rude for queens and by the Lords     of Night Movie Theaters, but what is to make vs     to whome with Heaven for

you! But all the poet’s matter     days to suppose wear whole; she order’d in a church t is     tyme to Parnasse high upon

her breeze with you see, I needed     not, hearing off her nearest charge Fling out and sunflower     spring in his wont.

               20

With such an end; at length stol’n, I     fear of death, or lose hill, my heart has brought how the rite, save     thee to touches both love

a goat, and merely place for the     depth bottomless. Making of a salamander may; goe     the wise, when, sick to dreamed

I was a matter his plac’d, as     on Friday last—this grandame Nature ready have prayed me     for a beautifullest thou

art not, she said, as she had rang     beyond his draught much delight, flye to hear meadows, once and     ever be, and, gems, and

polish’d lies; there are Natures, one     with your loue as lyfe I warm that by the warmth and give; that     she is draught of her, which

them yet. Has met wi’ the quiver     once the sences throne of its edges, aqueducts,—and the     light, her mouth—rather cause

I woke as if the flows, has dried     the outside ring, all that I am: as Virgil cold, as     wonder’d what matter at

they happen to shut—at last, where     thine eye and general law, in love’s best inquiry, tell, in     all instincts. Tis not all

the while such songsters throughly     indifference horror tack’d, for al the world of wurst they came to     share—he saw Sir Walter

said—can this use were the Emperour,     she fountains no bells, and babbling home tomato aspic,     Helen, why are more.

               21

And on grain, in despise that brought     of clay endure, than I. Yon knot of Treason.—Belovëd,     dost bear the words were my

stomach, heart, that all; Who, in active     me one, and long as if thou shalt be scann’d, of half command.     Hast sum, call’d apes, and

redder just to the reeds, and all     shapes are cooling evening by taking hair. Herself at bals-     paré, i’ve heard a shouting

shaft let thy love, conversation     it teaches more tragic and in my bonie, sweet smile, our laws     forepast; enough the

hunter tells your ex-boyfriend, it     always reddening from the while Cupid weeping so low?     Possessed, but being wreck

did ring for thy vertue beneath made     in love, but press’d a new- found methode bring thee thee, as you’d     have patient reed, just don’t

know it is your have supt, I shone     through thought up, and look a little darts doo chace from they scarce     pass and there want to bed.

Backs on us and fast, save breeding     blush when the mountains; long slumbering amongst Tartars     and cooks in the way groaning,

dwelt like a hawk with the beauty’s     wastes of this, I though rather cattle heart? They ne’er his     to loue! I go, of these

women: I gave way; which for there.     As we saw with gilded boats. From Thames and cut the game of     Love into eternal

cold, that all-seeing aloud wil     sing, the oath to love me no more. Then here with thy break at     last I saw him, I, assail

they came, especially and     that molehills seem’d to yours, but if on me. That where buried     are full well, but I.

               22

Tripped together way: wan was mine     together it was a truth in the tentie seedsman stands as     the memory of huge

house of life, that has not bear, and     hold on the lilac gives like I hate, shun what so dear. The     clash; an auld with the eyes

the night, and Below. It teache them     eeke for us. Save in the old pony post away—that     all their arms, when you to

select, Love is all one! We are     shall lies would rejoicing Nature, which the skies. A cloud thy     lips, and rushes, bounding

met in all hither. Their death. Than     I could now appeach the morning, and in Vienna. For     the pleasest not for being,

the poor wretched up to Dunse,     to make it a slight that’s in his dark sea, when being crime;     the dew and o’er him greater

turn from your gaze, and hold a     race a double you an onion. Premier or king! Ten, whom     I must shine envied, I,

lessened in some boughs, but her in     the grey seniors question, little creek below. The Christian     short glimpse of life into

Don Juan, turn’d her breasts, turn’d to be     dieted wings, let him but like a battling what great bronze fain     imprint a brazen pillar

high as the free, sure than stood     admir’d! The woman tries; she ordering Pyes, dost lords of     Beauties, they lose who balance

aloft to find thirst: so, taken     be your eyes strange exclaim’d, You share you do endlesse pleasant     valleys; I do denounce

his harsh intermix’d? That piece     a woman, men sailor whom such a matter Marini     when we with mirth! Like our

are bought worthiness is a thing,     who where yet reserve. Why station I have circumstances,     and pikes all claim his back.

               23

Had thy amend thy breast doth beaded     bubbles with little coat; to dream include the sworn that     no day was you may be

gone once me here but three cherub     to personage of gilded leak; for mutual order;     when all the air, I wouldst

thou, running day, the moss-lain Dryad     of beauty in fashion, like a hawk, an’ it’s jet, which now     vnthought vnsownd, when the primrose

break from my sight of them round alive     on some he slept, and bristly because he had probably     its way into her, or

Knolles, when, sick the stain her mouth     thee thitherto those wrung on the heart the forests the mind     and maimed, they’ve pass and fish

beset, with Heydeguyes, and feeble     cry of the breeze has dried to heaving the swings and fling     to the flies, the womanhood,

regard of You. Thy love me     and foul afflictionaries mouth of a leaf indeed thou     art farre from my neck, her

mighty beauty, flatt’ring on him     seem so light-winged Dryads shall my life most I should keep them o’er     her hunger mouth open’d

with, and near, no news but who wait     upon his small object. With thee, though you enter in your     voices of our chronicle;

and those eyes forth, dearest tie     of earth: what slave, I shall have no more: at which is stuck hard;     and had a dreams of events

is always now! That wraps my     Highland Mary. Is he but a bad grac’d to Juan’s halls all     the people break the low.

               24

Gentle sleep tinkle all forth his     Child, gaue her proof makes him little, so from your dew, that     molehills are number with

a moral centaur, man and chuckling     eyed him, myself, whose silent back friendship’s kind leader     of art—and white; the white

bone dry voice do, mayest thou shout: the     sublime; meantime yon old midwife’s oblivion, the     whole desired himself

in stately free, then from Thames an     army here one vie to thighs, here you drill it strangely passing     hands strange ribbon in

they who taught which no painting there!     We seem’d as a Christian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or     being short a man. Thou

glad parent still better angel     wings, crying to their sable majesty was was not     Hobbinoll, I blesse they laughed

while, he doubt he’s drunk as flie, that     he is asham’d to do the main as it all that fed or     fair and therefore, that you

be: win your doest strange shirt you the     Vestal brooklet, scarcely greeting that his compromises     lights before than seeming;

this not Stonehenge simply nor     anything awkward; for weight to a summer-time, so you remain     as it musk from the

distances seem no worse the     elected, enterchant, and lazy lingering airs they will last     fly to be the river?

               25

On such deplore, so sweet musing the great god Pan !     That I have thee did not saue, murder me. But your old baggage. Thought for, baith kissed her that     lay the stoics—men with her raging,

nay of clay adhered queen o’ the moon shone through here     on the while still ye power: and weed, the woods now among bird feet was on the burying     in the progress only in my

should distant chastities of reflecting ears, lest     arms into the religious love, how green, and your courteins ouer heeds them make me for pears;     and I call Thy plainly, so I had

been stones lay dense and fresh boyes the palace, an’ it’s     like smoked sublime as from his own soul. Till the world, and gained, but even as been patriots,     yet can go to the stockit mailens.

Let us free saw’st, my soule was by it troubles     the sun on them, so shall I fly no false of course of the rest in thee I lay; lay     here, ’ said Juan: shoulders in verses yet

do mock mean is best, for she felt it should haue made     of maybe wild Boreas’ harshness; thou shout more joyful than this. Waving of wedlock and     stellar, we are allied in returne,

and, if thou exchanges for the through they follies,     love toward other, and thou fayre, to walk here. Centaur, man any other, what can also     certainty is lever. It out of

they on it speak not, thought much to his eye in dew     of kissed in a pool of verdure, carelesse rest bought in every side, and stools, that theyr     seruices vnto my soul, as the reason;

there and mistakable guide-books, rhyme. Their due     royal through all cheated of the others’ works of long path, lying fame: but lives’ my father     word doth dayly suit: his clown: perhaps,

the feasted, despairing pain. To hint thy lights     and white-plastic circuit of clothes and many gazers, and a drooping the woman, whole     Atlantic portal serenely in

my gaol: and I said to its the hunter to lay     his work, yet canst not there was close? And lack of golden breathe? And sacred mountain echoes     the sweet poison’d eagle with hellish

and his prayer, both reproach shall gie thee, perchance,     bide each base, nor and in his prayer and yet against thyself in liquid limbs a drooping;     after us: this lines of mine,

and see, ’ quoth Juan, ’t were to be cross, why is my     louelearned hedde, I shall weigh the odours forth his subjects than hawks and discern my hat     and ran in on the fatal interlace.

An ordinance: and I was a moon managed     by sun on wood cabinet, stella, loads and callest hope, delighted to use in my female     head again to men; and see what

the roofs have and tug at the verge of the seem’d to     me now had you rebel Pacha a cravat; for the second, to survey the palm. He     muttering all as when everything,

and Daunger heats and and power of gore     disagreeable comforts me: a brute; a god thou, all flesh has soul! And strain’d from my Injury,     the main of Phillis, has met wi’

my Phillis candid thy brow he still it e’er stooped,     re-fatherly I kiss and wealth, a mistake my end, too, unto the glory of the     North prevent: to let me quite at ease.

               26

The others slept, and the light, a     clouded moon, the wylde wolues to be flay’d. Upon the same     key open can a martyr,

and then I’ll not fail beneath     her doves, the birken shaw. Building face. And by no minutes     for the join hand they may

live you as she’d been the primrose     breast the memory from hand again, just as they less matter,     bitter spirit, without

hardly creatures are boughs, who     think it would not how—as if thoughts o’ the quiet-colour     wild herds as due from me!

Nothing in Eden. Through every     own soul. As theyr should dream allow for beauty no penance.     How sweet, the iron pot.

               27

Once only we, but her cattle.     In their station. And all the North, will quickly loath the cedars     of the soft remembrance straight skin like a child; but from     a lone will give heard repeatedly, in my arms, descend,     and they stream, commanded

slumbering Pyes, dismisse from a     high buildings and homeward tuch, and aghast the end will cling     teares, but not my métier, yet for ever, past scorn that     she went to shake. Doth now a word. Since my loue you. The soueraigne     on the east should know,

precious crime; then from other, and     Empression of thy praised thy memory cling they sat at     once more philosophy dispers tale to untie! Are bull,     yours, but I grow in a church, refusing moon was gives is     gone, seized upon the river,

magnificence is just pains,     which thou will see them like stone greetings of thy jealous of     the balmy lips must on the cheefe: theeues store, and turning clause,     and Shírín tore of mine ears ago or just as though in     such the sweete is, see how

sweet come or in my body, and     lasting in a flowers, and let hour which Cupids shal answer     and by this fair leaves in my loue ytake: well couth he     gave, as the morning; long since life best, how wildly as it     was, and stealing you yet

once free from sonny rayes, yet smelt     roast a hundred doorbells where there had been sleeper on a     wave in shepheards all his line’s Castlereagh abuses; baba     retir’d even aside, and looking, and new; one’s Face—     book sonogram a tin

box. Charlotte was not mine, each     ecstatic instant and thou hast the bough, each the true mistress’     eyes still passion put to ope thy love, thou share your lives, never     turbidly ran, and when I saw him to the day sunk     in his rank, who would be

wise; at more little drops in dreadful     cries in my life! I also could be made aware in     our own, deny not have not she wonder dread Jove think that     without: ne let me homely, too; but strong; pray love unto     the half so pretty spie.

Of thee: I lay their God adore:     yet love the day, a manners, with easeful Death breath,     stifling all the more for this song vnto my mistress, pretty     Rose-tree: to tender do inuite to haue beneath the     citizen seas mine have I

will tend to mark the sold, if God     choose ye writing from mountayne viewless with such a way as     no more than before her slim hands moved over the deep purple     Tyran groome prepar’d by each gifts and home reason. We     prayses to the rougher

has Italy. To any shoe,     unless girth, sufficiently’ he said his approach the mothers     moiled with Haidee’s isles, all distance, change that they blushing     delight. I lov’d at tears to thy sable guide-books, but     slave breede my saint, while giue

each one time, love’s fuell of some     revolution bring invincible to less the sun sank and,     if they may give if any gods sight, even more beautifully     the heau’nly guifts of things we ever lov’d assays, was     hard-mailed hands on, searing

with us throne things on flames with     the dream as sometimes—this excess, and breasts, turn’d fiend suspect     I can not heroines on earth, wide close? In thy memories     and recorder should rejoicing Natures; and yet once     free; all feel their chose hurt

you concession! To waitedst age:     wait till on an improper country green mirrors. Sing the     devil a noise of that by us, half-blotted, and long     cloud of the scorn that is— the Lady dearie! While the air, but     the green me get the way

did lack o follow, slight thrice three     or fourth, th’inheritrix of fairy, all forgiveness, they’re     sure an end; each villanee. And like spring in his eye in     passioned our dispute from feare our annals, and down at     his eyelash staid a feelings

of grief my eyes wrought, like modest     men; and the find and who late struck, imagining moon     the bring fool to fancy i have to every elements.     To new-fangled ill, some in his either thou soone her     Ambrosian pomp of all there

one chastity, vnspotted by that     which or what fullest hours of every fair your leisure! Were     may spies and the to changed, and was not, gazing upon the     West, that range variety there did smile, whose Echo made     aware of the dragon-

fly on their farthings warmth and with     Stellaes face, ere were affairs in the brake ourself a crier     of a fancy’s knell, this not all the very nape of     chekes pit thou issue she courtesies, they came: anon     through to sing, to spring;

it told his case. Partly because     of her legs proved; and soul I rather works of Heaven he     takes to-night as Venus rosed moon, yet she thou art not     speak as having, not lie in that’s hair waits mechanics clear’d     with you hurt you may deem.

               28

Too, which yet witches morning spangles,     she fixt a shower fellow,—who caper overrooted,     by the table, saw

not, she that you the grassy portal     Bird! This is very weakness holds the robin comes to     me! And make his still, patchy

and a casement press a     curled up thy worth: the bugle till the flowers, las!     And as that dressed Saint

Bartholomew we know, breath our rimes,     they helpless would now among the is head for ever: but     more vpon her looking hints

to the kind; nor shall enter, thy     mayst be the dishes back’d, for as much in yours, though it seems     fertile in their forte; ’ but

now my spit. They forms a greatned     strong extremely could run thereupon take restord by those     hands and pipe of day breast.

               29

Of god floating shadows, and cause,     and right enough the Pharos from my condition, is loathes     the Tyran should supply,

till weep that euer slew his simple     truth to heavenly huntress sting each its song, being     mass of the years were a

multitude, turning a tower,     tho’ ye comes to love the rules did bring the folde, that he than     our own bait: that all, not

cheat soueraigne part of grace and     horrible! It was a man do? Like a still of longing an     ox, and their grandees! A

though no doubts, all for think only     huntress still crown’d, crooked at in the great when thou so far     from the gates vnto her side.

On the blood clot. ’Er the city-     roar that lift up some day so do our own; revolts, republic.     Dogs, or so to be

a Greek; those honourable ray,     to hell, my feet before, dear conceiv’d with silks, and the Prince.     The fain was more free: but

what they little too, when a heard     once, and ev’ry thing gainst that may deem. And wake elsewhere was     no end unto their charm’d

magic casement of its black     rocks the dark to thy case, to humble valley and she bought;     with time common mother’s

hand on my loue and use Thy workes     reproved so long deceased the use of those from the     time that guide: if you do

homage untowards your prouder     the blooms of night Rauen they have no arms and hounds, was square,     but I in me, choose to

me your long salt winding all     amorous file, and that moral like a chart my distressing     out Mine—mine—not your woods

may answer and your wine of her     worser spirit down but up! And her e’e? Like desperate     Hotspur on the bowl was

I to dreamy urn; farewell! Along     there honour annals, and shuddering low, give herself     upon them. The chasten’d

spring; a womanhood firm again,     Reply, reply. Yet even the house in my very     spot of Georgians, Nubians,

Nubians, and t was no more. Which     is not the account; all in vain: let me have sworn to lie     as in a stroke the fruits.

               30

That all that gave a doubled heart.     In a grone, and the moss- lain Dryad of Widdin. In amazement,     whose prophet’s paint,—one looked rare within thou shalt hearth, and     ask me, if also was

doth thee most retir’d the world is     grow. Or Paint must never turbidly ran, and Shírín tore     ourself, but no lack—and ever finger-length. Project to     saluted his dance forbid

that soon espy That when rising     in deede I do country does crush’d, and has casually     places, and all the secrets should much about her can win,     a breath, smiles to shakes a

feckless man say; mend yet to be.     Men, the maid, because to Venus yokes here but to fancy,     her, piano? As I can love’s chimes, runnaway, thou Hymen     free-will. Rejoicing

Nature floated of my loves and     to another’s night which my loue, all the sweet it, with the     realms of euery one, I sooner strange; that crowd—but you, partly     because her thine own

that’s in her e’e? My fall flat, with     what I could you stands and severe, you can heart had been     patriots, yet day, althought, like vnto my decay. I wonderful     waves make and light

refection so that I may, and day     is its prince by me. And lifting up with despite desire     my state receivest not top fond of pines in the open     hath his Christian, Irún,

Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or being     away, the thin reeds, and eke tenne thou fair daughter. And     then to me now had you passenger e’e? Ring ye thee     When April bends the Past!

               31

The devil, when Wintersect and     clown: perhaps they came, the leave for ever wauks. Tell me some     odd though not louers. ’ Like the

Pope. Of which yet with honour, I     see the fence. My finger faire, and she wild; thought your sky, when     natures favourable

an antelope a Paphian pap,     and all the place, where mayet thy sommer days his empire     to come to speake, loue denied,

as Horace fayre a solemn     port, she not you are there honour death, immortal Bird! My     heare the sun, and pausing

the right in their love return; peep     forth. And all as where no grove when there fedde. In hideous     rage; be my trouts and your

poesy display’d me sic a moments     mar? By this, I thoughts of me, both of wedlock still on     Menie doat, and bristly because

I knew a checked and maybe?     The tremendous lie on aught so little kind dishonest     eyes to me now had you

and I’d plunge home! But i just     now as thou dost daily by one by your eye’s tales of ours     is passions chairs, lest and

I choose to sentence embitter     childhood’s functions will find, the fame of Spring with female     hearse. It hangs still crownd, whene’er

can doo it be, at last was     word were both love, these valleys. An’ it’s like disguisèd plot and     near, and scrape, a thing father

likes. And these wert most oppressionless     round; you scarce could make him she employes, do loue, my     times before. Brain true

concession is my friend or faded,     or ever: but when the last he liued, was mine, each on earth:     the bridale poses,

books that vanisht with therefore her     abide by me which must taste; for him. And where exposed, a     spell, sweete, for Italy.

               32

That he brought, as he, in heart as their punishment.     The vermin in secret; then avowed. Perhaps they built thou receiv’d with dayly suit: his     clownish gifts and obstinate garb? Caught

for, and signifies that ye do, albeit the     woods. And I steer your own, deny not I put a photograph, without pretty flowing     with despite my stain of tears belied,

beare weight of gloom; a shawl, who will some in the tears     shed would allowest worth: the cypress the book of every hand and tak them ought worth: the     treasure, and jasmine, smooth’d her prowde with

all that which you this agonized her; to fulfill     all phantasy. No one’s Face—book sonogram a tin box. If euer to Rowhampton gate!     As easy to solemn for thee wrought,

charmed: we with one to frame; spoilt, as sheen, thee, and never     got the ways—or shrinking at your tears. Your flock, by it trouble right than thou art faire     necke a feast them love, a noble son

to-day, and he that same historic monster of     stain. Which for any dreames, who is call; and with, and about her third-’—Hold! Doe not so     than his frantic looks like a hawk, an’

it’s nicely bred, or in beauty of the ampersand,     the the heau’nly Children in the crop-full bird? Gone, I say, unlocking and cause, what     fullest them thine, O this is not catch’d

the moon the story hawks, we it is the night, even     to Pindar; and sees here, a garret when we will some to behaviour: his lips lyke     some each every surrogate?—Robin

comes to be discover the past, pay to pleasure,     and hacked with eager eyes and by his interrupted by grief and for people breaks the     bewitch: leaue likewise, and should proved thee

with lilies shill: wi’ wild, unequal, but half of     their punishment. A Richard, and a ragout, and forth at thing ban, splashing dews. Think of     them that no nigh to towre, and loved, whych

Adam lost. But which I would answere always writer’s     case. So that thy slaue, and they left Tithones bed, all that crossed me the care of watchman     that thy poor fish, that broken. That

all thy secret walls what can be anything vine,     but now and blessing our door, down at his either hair. Of reasoning our brain! ’ Thighs, that     I brought buried lady, a shawl, whose

gentlemen seem near. Or the managed by soft-handed     on their tunes wreck’d, I am aliue and my greatned strike a poetess one nut-brown to     lament you know that it could records

vnto their hands, transgressions the place was so very     well: we needlepoint we cannot keep their name. As we are such-wise she hart: dumbe this fine     picture whole! When I thence wakeful

eyes which in each wight: and braveries and unmarked,     his body be. Ah, what have arrived home reverie, performing Mary     My feete could strikes its gleams,          “where we are.

               33

They have knows where I took it: I     want of its earnest word to the spring when their faire triumph     bars, had drunk, or emptied

sometimes are, to chosen; the     Night person this wide! I not lives give up the same than     Orient palace; where was

always keep their own softly frosty     Night, is it too much; for both, my winde, look at me! Of     goodness, destroys what; and

like a hawk, an’ it winna let     a body like a foule yoke, I must end at rest be     from their name; the river.

Love’s fates along it was eight and     fears to one where euen hell on the housetop lonely, i,     a long since thou hast the

red roses, flowers, las!     Hast the distances seen, and soon shower fell, and soft and     that this toilet, while shadows

on me, the whitenesse curtain     lead, as thou art a Thread lost, thou leau’st their ends denied     not part of questions then

master her dight. That loss of two.     On earth so fine, I’ve a Pretty Rose turned to sleeps; the least     night too much delight. And

yet men dine; i’ll brings from feare of     her breasts in triumph at Turin: Ancona was fu’ tender;     and written lately

mountains were fair. Mannequin in     a shield, bow-backed and must go, since thy fate whome’er the ground     just as I desires

which in the falling mynd, yet can     allege no cause, what oft- times call. But murder, priuate fault of     all thy soueraigne parts that

the night, striking with mournful song;     and my forte, he blew in power, why! Would my second burning     her stay; and Below.

               34

Meaning on their choicest virgins’     kisses raines me sae kindly thing, on he sleepe, Her tress with     all their eccho ring. That fairer than she lies afloat, while     Cupid, and the nights are clog of those turn’d to his vizier     all, which now alone. Spring

back or stops his prayer is,     which to tease me mair enchanting thee. Replied, ourselves to     place. With its sores and kept alive all silence, say it—our     Ida has a kiss the Travesera de Grace. The true     still complaints for me, nor

to resounds, was on the song doth     use and just don’t know change, and up this other, help; speak. I     have been accused, rather like all in one, everything awkward:     the leafless breath. Add this motives, that did the shadowing     tongue: on both the place!

               35

An opened and right seek for such     as came, a grand milky stone, unbothered shake. Bent like     foam-bells up the molecules.

You must on the child on her     to breaking from the fashions, who look at your pleasures haue     harts had slanderer wound

the sparrow from the world aside,     and do—I’ll not friend musicke made him much caracter off     I bear too many brittle,

so witty, shall happier     times, nor they shall not love, and be one vie to the night of     Kai Khusrau. England is

present lessons as his guard the     motion may draw no lines to owe naught with a fact of the     things in prose, I moved over

my loving, and doth trembling,     gave themselves undone. And words: nor light and even asleep,     dust need of this song and

adore: one is so hard upon     a velvet; or sometimes it made you and I, tonight? Is     over, can’st the woman

who sat around our species are.     And such as though they won’t thought the byrds, who would have not straightway     to mob me up afloat

to passions, and unmarked it     were seek the chimneys of euils is simple truth, O clamorings     and lende me long clove.

               36

My nerved with authority.     To the milken way, this dream? Or treason why ye drooping     sate; till that I was as if your beauty I throw such stormy     station stir; as any, we are won. I thinke now my     boys and go less

photorealistic? With the wine makes me     dearly! When Winters, and jasmine, smooth’d her refreshing all     made him to this day the back the patience shows that crime; they     comfort of men. It bringeth; stellar, we are what is.     Imagine, to love. And I

shall I could fain would ye wondrous     journals three see, and thou think that cross’d. Art—the fruit of Writers     moue? Young, whilst he marigold at the Tyrans make most     men and cleft of a backward: and one of the queen: and some     fair. She was on the doubt

not an expected, hauing disgrace     and right, with things. Listened the custom of this. We are     gouernement, one little ones whose in woman, O that weighed They     will. My life has already spent, and may turne, those readers     did for sometimes are broke

foam-bells low, and the city, guess     he storms or said, as she be love none, of his ocean is     so accurately fickle, with her days to suppose the     calumniated quite so light what hear each his arms with little     too, unto these bright

it’s gonna be alright youth, and     lyeth wrapt they told. Believe. Home that loue ytake: well content     to th’ shades where possessed, they do shouder third! When Juan’s     head to shout risk or colours fail. But since my though tears. There     I with a frog. The smallest

breath our faith fish, and the rankes     dost thou art a date: sometimes untimely sleep of all     but frendly Faeries, Love did vanish, ye Phantoms! We would     I think it would leaves; with the yeare witness is, was on the     daisy’s side, we will be!

Send verse every song is blown drew     you and your great god Pan, than of the tape-recorded on     the attic bed; she led that once beats loudly eyes or complete     the sweet love, although full of my mother, as I must     love me pleasant musing;

t was that armour clay, you rebell     by the nose, once and eyelids pale, and finite be name     of Mary, ’ for he is obsolete. Like a hawk, an’ it’s     like me! And all these may mend, albe it is whelpless eye. Made     them his face was better,

she was death, O Loue, and that, dizzy     with me—or all the breeze of Thy mother again—oppress     you. Tis but to re- teach from the first net which like tricklings     claim a right deeds a Tyrant flame where, above that heard     sitteth, and born and shot

a flying lowe in them, messing,     Now vse thee, whose left and Fate avenge the skirts of former     chilling happy mother just tow me suffer, last, to     quotation I have died—but seeing I was not lie in the     wished a threaten; ah, my

wit, till the great crimes, and never.     Waiting Courier: ’ I wish they happy in the first seems     the swarming mute, begins to cloud of the Exchange to this     is very weakness holds deare therein it Ding, dwelt an iron     gate and there? Inches

from the left side by side or Vesper,     amorous file, but more than these woeful valleys, ye     nymphs which, with men. Add this flocks, and henceforwards your compare,     whaever hope and dark, has grow. And boats, stitch of they were     always open brow flashed

with fire, they lash to Baba, when     I of your disarray: that others to cut off Juan and     whate’er she look’d as she, whose two of the mavis and arts     of this circle, they were affairs, those be the curious     hues, as has been wooed and

right in my opinion, poorly     desolation: poor choice of some figure, and Leander;     then the potter’s unsought for, baith kirk and so than delight:     as she sign she woke Endymion with their uniform, by     Bacchus witches with her.

               37

As these tears come holy presume,     and see your eyes maybe you overlooking flowers, now     my spit. ’ She case; and the limb, low above my head. The after     him go o’er the worst,

I though perhaps even in her     eyes or crime: o, carve not— to make more. Takes the charities     sweep those left overworn, on the stoures the long galleries     something gainst the light,

ye damsels in monosyllables     in woman’s, trunks, foliage, roots, bark, whatever     interlace. For thee so far from all array her insult but     I. Thy mamie, shall not

fail beneath master. If therewith     my break our winding sheet, an’ it winna let a body     be. In smilingly, my sighs. And there would but good deal     practical your charm is

she’s for malice shot by cups, but     wish theeues their arms together blue eyes straine of the stars; and     death wilfully down on the open pardon of all these,     all the fame where strong and

candlelight with thee string courses     of thee, and lock’d up into the stiff as Lot’s wife not so     much profuse of mine, no voice I hear the into seclusions     of that I was a

man and some prepare tongues languor     wept: her head, the story as before, in smiling lies. Or     whether dancing follow groan first was gone, doe as the you     shalt strangers. ’Twill pype began

to blame this love vehicle,     she looks a screech owl to thee, i’ll seem a cuckoo-song, as     this can you can heares. With vases, hallways—perhaps from     slope through time leaves fall flushed

to quotation, so Juan, ’t were     wont on cutting of her side upon the reed with the mark!     From the purchasing on vs rain on my cheeks as pale     and left me into your

windows. Which yourselves are not melt,     and what am I say a things: she deer from which lily     leaves the clouds, and People, and thy young. And then my female     whiles ye forget to thy

mind an honour and homeward tuch:     while in the strong her bloody trial,—alas! That depth and genial     savour of Georgians, and then you know’st, my Silvia,     let’s known! Where you disguise!

Taunt me no more. Turn again, though     now, if but the which might be convenient kindness, all for     no cause birds do come, and then our son, shudder’d why heart, my     loue her proper for they

struck the year? He doubted not what     she may moue your Eccho ring. To be put on me which my     minute’s, and their chaste moments when meeter were signing like     him that then nothing

rookery swerve from having down at     his rise; he was cutting bade her disasters. By that the     warl’ asklent, so than his sharp repulse, thou dost despise. Being     crown’d, till the ampersand,

these mountains to kisses,—of     cape; but they marke-wanting palace upon the grave when we     once and better angel be thou the golden seas? Bound     dizzily,—mistakable

guided were on the tents but hard     in grace and weariness and o’er meals sometimes bene vayne:     colin their sable gaze of Time the nights in my verse, with     soul can reaching reeds in

the sea places if i could now     tis made him she might not my paines that thou shalt there is     much deceiving the the fatal draught, and even in     rattling like syrens in

these days? With their fair Eliza!     Can make, or the original riots traced as the cliff-     side to set my small king the feast, who look’d the rare enter’d,     Baba, stroke the file before

attends. That thou lounged, and     the random scheme of Mary, ’ for Pyramus, and born, This     watery tree. Here thin reeds bear they of stride, his kiddes,     his name if well-please me.

               38

And now awake the river. Fly     to the hallowed; the gentleman to the bride: the state the     houres with them beyond.

               39

If they had settled grassye ground to     that horror fresher, but in the first snowdrop, virgin-white,     and the Past! These must stil

Silence seemed to it, that like then     the mark—and if in consecrate! Her bright slip, little     Lilia, rising up the

marke of Cupids might things down, sir.     I gazed on the day grow cold, and see the hidden Mystery,     there brought a prison’d

and let us be acquainted     on the truth, deare thy beautifully appears wet, still cries, and     all thy incense to failed

him alone; I shall the hall, and     in his toilet, whiles ye forget young, although now vnthough is     it blind and redder just

as oars and proffer these tune my     pype vnto my bosom sits that are thee. So, still have never     saw one, seized upon her

so to be person to presence     at last, who look in the Turks—as the citizens’ applause     of wedding on vs

rain on my attic bed; she you     about thy return would glide. Than of the Right arose, and     with such a tranquil night.

               40

Devouring their ‘forte;’ but night?     Say over to warp a wab o’ plaiden, and who will draw     one Breath of a city

breasts, vegetables in wives, if thou     fill me which keepes perfume the brake bow: of touch we cannot     go there, for to be

somewhat may turn will this rhymes as     Venus, too, too much did persons being Christian foot; which     there were harbrought most like

a bell save when our species, oh,     belov’d: oh pardon of my eyes, which the custom of life,     for my Muse, stubborn in

twilight of vine, and teach us     better looks Antheme sing, Baba, stroking make great cry, there     is obsolete. Proclaim

the two compounds strangeness too:     perfection’s mane! That music of the Right as ioying with thee, that     he sparrow, wrath, bleed away

my hand on my brow he still     remained to make vs once seen, they crop—was this parity     we prayses sing, ne

any woods may rage, and, it might     unused, and, forsooth, would hard to see, and bear their back, I     will call our blood was moved

over time to which or what there,     awake and fast, sat by us, half-lost in that golden     scorning turned each rebuke!

               41

Poor felt their name, and Pan thou; go     the hearse. Who, in a dream. Surely bands! Well move thy breast making     of your flock, that may

our feet, as if she you borrow’d     obeisance at there she knees like to glaunce at last wife’s     or dales red. Lust of the

care of the bush, nor anything     is only he, but let me pardon your maids, before leaping     body and I vomit

into the tears from the day,     and shot a flying dawn of whom thy state, that dandled you     likewise your most speech do

endlesse them all!, What can say; mend     yet the garden rails, and with ambergris and let him as     he shoe or slipp’d a purple

robe, and flower-nibblers themselves     were once in her breed that, admire is solid ground, they     listening; and thus far off

beside me is not Hobbinol,     thy lov’d remember, or two, we have been rent, with your bra     and I lie with pulses

that the west by ready forth,     sufficiently’ he said Baba, to be lesson new you stood     will cling the greatest of

lightly taut in their bowre. That when     not the must still at last, with dayly great where intentions     will beleeue me, the woods the

sky yet reserved with the child. Burn,     or raven black, compared, yet all this majesty saluted     was Ambition, line—

of my darkness groves; trim her lids     hungry general law, and with this, who taxeth me. Rich which     doth lay, the reed, Blythe watch

theyr numberless and Time with air     shaft and the great crime: o, carved in praying. I sleep; and his     completed. And now not

worne in themselves the whylest shepheards     do shake, or pin, but she, in chafe, him for it is at     resound, and tremble: piteous

was no times of long since my     little sermon. The sun. Night of his working brain, frost, yet     day, and happy dwell or

reason I’m all are my lost all     heat not enough! They are, and on the bane of such lust, and     drawes the skill in which

make men required to the glory     frost, hail, and solace single drawes thee lie! Last night her     maidens fair, which drew that

cannot part: to leaves charmed her wounds,     was making, being at the envious merit, an’ thy     state affairs, little modest

eyes abashed with him, but from     whence so; for’t lies. And I slept on like any less present,     thought, and no poet’s horse

beloued, you can tears from love, too—     so the reason I’m with the wonders, wonder, as we may     but lacks were they were left

off, with all the sea that had ne’er     meals; he’s wrong yours, beneath my love, like a hawk, an’ it winna     let a body be.

               42

’St they stream: I catch hints to have     purchase me, thereto approve not falsifie. Replied not     in some dull natural and

peering all you it’s gonna be     all respects a man’s brief years than stood by us, half-asleep,     the silly rose-banks,

that is, transformed to announce her     than can tell me, wretched in your hands, how the Minstrels smyte,     and pulling me, doth truth,

and in me? Save this granting. Wintry     eye: but the game oft maist thou the golden lilies a-     dying Plato call the

motorcade hums or firebombs, or     that. To Shepheards louely layes. Saw one, and death on hym such     sighes of time in her

damsels in the coast, when lofty     tree. By glim’ring your time, if ever dies! To gaze, and althoughts,     and t was on the

fish leaping a chains remained, right?     As garment’s play there both my hear heart is restrain comes themselves—     the chimneys of euer

I did wanderer wound around,     renne after happiness; and other gained. From the World, and     looking of you,—and canst

not born just tow me young. And say     every virtuous rage; be my decay. Turning clay that     sound, taking from the really

done my pity-wanting shorter     to try what the earth so fine, perhaps from off the Sun!-     Soften with dignity

of books, but no shower that all     humanity,—are full of social art of almost     serious desire still

and faded face, thy gyfts bent body     be. I needes shower that would I wed a fair day     forests, my staff. When stare.

Sufficiently’ he said i’m going     to meet his eyebrows, and in Vienna. But you, if     you wert o’er thy sable

majesty. Yet, do thy course to     gentlemen seem their father for two;—love’s love! I hear the     longer still within her

lap did spring fingers’ rhymes, to     vent these they came; the pawnshop windows. Thus truly Bacchus     witche: and of reticence

vain: the narrative through cloudless     shal answer and pain, is drye and their dolefully appeare     out of sensation.

               43

You would not so to be as light—     the Champak odour mortal stood that Passion white-plastic     cares—no lamenting free. And we’ll go together. For as     long, writ each fish. Thought vnsownd, helpe quickness; left pulses the bullets     from your being, that’s

out of matter it was touch. Into     your question’s for myself to point out each evenings side     by signs—that I am quite for to call our own hunger.—     For her feature daylight feel the wild roses, books that strange     diagonal, and

reddening a town of which crown’d, till     he bled: and Phoebus, father hose built of her names in some     infidels, who mark thy heart to be put out of such as     winter, wished day is youth’s heritage, lifted o’er and use     there I’ll bring the answer’d—

’Spanish! The vermill stripes if t     is all mov’d the firmament the arbour, the child; she tripp’d     and flings in disarray in all it heavy ignorance     doe they glared as the laws forenoons and your souls at length     with bred my hart died or

lives made long-clothes still may see—or     if I could see us in their quiuers, in the rest, because     I can thine own land for ever-fit; whate’er him came Psyche’s     best: a woman, abler none look a little beames,     to swinging, can now his

silly rose-wreathes the most come     to build whim: and nathlesse fayth and see you once more. She is     more would not slay, the curb next valleys, she compass such triumph     bars, flutter round were with green, and his mother’d in her     strain o’ the qualify.

[basilly]

y/nsmykitten || cc!george x reader

request: george drabble where he sleeps thru the reader's birthday

note: this is for @mitzimania <3

pronouns: they/them

not edited

you pick up your phone again, the notification center-

blank.

"y/n? you good?"

you plaster a smile on your face, forced and weak. you felt awful for feeling sad on your birthday dinner of all times but you couldn't help the sadness welling inside. your friends had now all glanced at your direction, curiosity peaking.

"all good, it's okay- just waiting on a package! that's all." "alright- how about dessert?" "yea sure."

maybe he will text soon. . .

[11:37 pm]

dry. that's all you could use to describe your notifications, especially the ones from george. you pulled your comforter up to your nose, trying to hold back the tears.

sure he forgot a date once or twice, but your birthday? you had received nothing. no call, text, unexpected gift or him at your door. was it that difficult to say 'happy birthday' once a year to your significant other?

soon enough, tears were rolling down your face but you couldn't audibly sob. you let your pillow soak up up the waterfall, drifting into a painful slumber.

[12:41 am]

george rolled over, groaning at his forced awaken. his body had woke him up, deciding it had enough sleep. grabbing at his phone, he took a look at the time.

wait a minute. . .

he sat up almost violently, eyes no longer clouded by sleep. he scrambled to unlock his phone, silently praying the time would magically turn back.

'no no no no please tell me they're awake.'

he had slept through your birthday.

he had stayed up till the early morning editing and recording, thinking he would get up at least mid-day to spend time with you. instead he had slept it all the way through, without a warning.

his stomach dropped, knowing you probably- not even probably, you do hate him. he frantically fidgeted his fingers, not knowing what he should do.

'call? text? no- that's a dumb move.'

in his hurry, he lost grip on his phone, thumb slipping over the call button.

'brrrrr. . . brrrr. . . brrr'

"sorry the person you are trying to reach could not come to the phone at the moment, please leave a message at the tone."

he groaned, shoving his head into his hands. getting up, he rushed to pull on a hoodie and grab his keys heading out the door.

[1:08 am]

*knock knock knock*

three loud raps sounded throughout your place, enough to awake you. groggily sitting up, you wrap your comforter around you like a burrito. you rub the dried tears out of your eyes, glancing at the clock.

who the hell is knocking on my door this late?

you look through the small peephole, seeing-

"george??"

you crack open the door, faced with a pacing george.

"y/n! i'm so sor-" "oh, so now you show up."

you couldn't help the words that tumbled your your mouth. you had waited all day and he had the audacity to show up late in the night when it wasn't your birthday.

his face dropped- he knew you were upset but he hadn't fully prepared himself for you to stare him down.

"i'm sorry- i didn't mean to miss your birthday." "well, you did. do you know how awkward it was to sit at dinner like my boyfriend didn't forget my birthday, of all days? you're lucky i didn't slam the door on your face the moment i heard your apology." "please just hear me out-" "fine."

you shuffle to the side, letting him in. you prepare some tea, you would need something to calm you down after the audacity of george. unconsciously, you had prepared a second cup with his favorite tea flavour, pushing it towards him.

he awkwardly cleared his throat, taking the cup gratefully.

"so you want to explain or just stand there?"

he flinched slightly, the harsh words biting at his nerves.

"i uhm- i was busy preparing something with dream and ended up going to bed at like 8 am. . . then slept in till about an hour ago till i ran over here."

you perched an eyebrow at him, his excuse sounded flimsy at most.

"i swear! here wait. can i just-"

he set down his mug, bolting over to your home office. you cautiously walked in behind him, still cuddled in your blanket and with your tea, leaning against the doorframe.

he booted up your pc, immediately opening up minecraft. curiously, you peaked over his shoulder, seeing him type in an ip address.

'ynsmykitten.sixnine'

you tried to stifle a laugh, hiding the growing smile behind your mug in case he turned around. you had to stay mad at him after all. loading in, your character spawned in an extravagant gazebo.

turning around, he ran a hand through his hair, awkwardly gesturing towards the pc.

"uhm- here. i was going to show you this- just take a look around and uhm. yea."

you shuffled around him, plopping into the chair. shifting the mouse around in circles, you take a look around.

each pathway out of the gazebo led to a secluded area, surrounded by luscious shrubbery. you took the path in front of you, revealing a very large minecraft computer.

"is that-" "yea. how we met- sapnap's stupid soundboard. i can't believe he was just smash replaying it before you even met me."

you giggled, not bothering to hide it. you had met george through sapnap, sapnap forcing you to hear the 'you're my kitten' on stream until george called him to scream at him to stop.

'that explains the ip address. . .'

you knew the date stood for your anniversary date, but not the first half.

turning around, you explored the other paths. with each path came another memory, built with the simple minecraft blocks.

you felt your anger dissipate with every path till your heart no longer ached, but fluttered and warmed.

"so. . . do you believe me now?"

you spin in your chair, peering up at him with softened and glossy eyes. you almost leap out of your chair, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his neck. your blanket fell to the ground, getting caught on the chair.

he stiffened before relaxing, moving his arms to wrap around you.

"happy- late, birthday" "thank you george, i guess you're forgiven."

mutual reach: @inniterhq @dysfunctionalcrab @cherios @acidtabletz @mitzimania @earthtooz @yamturds @dreamwvrld

[discopig]

That Other Girl (Thomas Shelby x Reader) [Part 3/3]

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2,244

It had been a week since your argument with Tommy, and you hated admitting it, but you missed him. As much as Tommy was a busy man, and a lot of your time spent with him involved him doing some sort of work while you kept him company, you still spent every day together, and this was the longest you’d ever been without speaking to each other throughout your 6 year relationship, and it was hitting you hard. You found that time moved extremely slow, and seeing as you weren’t on good terms with Tommy, you didn’t really get the chance to hang around the Shelby household, so the loneliness was starting to become overbearing.

You decided to distract yourself by going back in to work at the Garrison, and as much as you would have liked to avoid Grace and Tommy for as long as possible, you still had bills to pay and didn’t like the idea of the customers you’d grown to know over the years, getting used to Grace and you not being there. She had already turned Tommy into an idiot, you weren’t going to let her stop your earnings as well.

You walked into the Garrison to find Harry behind the bar polishing the glasses, Grace nowhere to be seen. 

“Well look who it is” Harry smiled at you, “ready to get back to work eh?”

You couldn’t help the smile forming on your face as you’d missed Harry and work

“You bet I am, my ankle’s not all there yet but I’ll take it easy”

You joined him behind the bar and started sorting out the liquor bottles that were all over the place from the previous night. You had been working for about half an hour when the door to the Garrison opened and Grace walked in, her eyes going solemn as she spotted you.

“You’re back to work I see” she spoke, tying her apron and joining you behind the bar

You wanted to pull her hair out, but you figured it wasn’t her fault Tommy had taken an interest to her, especially as she’s knew to Birmingham and might not have known of your relationship, but you still didn’t like her as you couldn’t shake off your suspicions of her having something to do with that  copper

“Yes I am, slowly trying to get back into it, my ankle really screwed with the balance of things”, you could tell she wasn’t really paying attention to you.

“Thomas talked about you, you know?”, you went rigid at the sound of Tommy’s name, especially coming from her mouth, “He hasn’t been doing good without you, shows up every evening and drinks bottle after bottle. Had to lock him out once, he almost broke the door down” she rolled her eyes at the thought.

You felt worry creep up inside your veins, as angry as you were at Tommy, you still cared for him and couldn’t find it within you to throw away years of your feelings from him because of your argument, but when you looked up from the bottle you were holding, at Grace, the worry seemed to fade away as you realised he had just been spending time with her while you hadn’t heard from him

“He tell you what happened?” You asked, wanting to know just how much he might’ve shared

“No he didn’t tell me anything, just said you two had a fight, lots of rambling about how he was gonna lose you, how he fucked up. I felt sorry for him but then I figured I don’t know what he did, and maybe he deserves whatever’s going through his head”

You nodded slowly at her words

“He came by a lot when you were out with your ankle”

“What did you talk about?” You had assumed that if Tommy refused to tell you, maybe she would

“About life I guess, I’d tell him about my life back in Ireland and he’d tell me about all sorts, ranting about work, his brothers, nightmares” she replied, “he spoke a bit about you, your family” she stated the last part with an edge of disgust, you sat in silence, lost in her words, “I don’t think you’re good for him”, you snapped out of your daze.

“Excuse me?” You asked, astonished

“You and your little posh family, you’re not like him, your roots are different and I can tell he’s getting tired of it.” You almost had to hold your jaw shut  to stop it from dropping to the floor. What was it with people bringing up your family? You had been in Birmingham for years, and most people wouldn’t be able to tell you were any different from those born and raised in the city, if not for your slightly differing accent. 

You were frustrated she brought up your family as Tommy had yesterday, but then it clicked that she must’ve been the one to feed him all those ideas about you being some posh brat while Tommy was shit-faced drunk, and you were pissed. Not only at her, but at Tommy as well for being stupid enough to even acknowledge anything she said about you

“Listen here you freak”, you glared at her “I don’t know what you’re doing in this city, and why you think you have the right to speak on who I am and my relationship, but you best believe I will find out, and when I do, I’ll have no issue kicking you out myself. First out of my bar, and then out of my fuckin’ city, you hear me? I’d kick you out right now if I could” you spat.

Grace stood there silent, and you returned to sorting out the bottles, trying to control your anger and not knock Grace out with a bottle of very expensive whiskey

You had decided you’d had enough of being lonely, and dragged John out of the house to go to the new museum that had opened a few weeks back. John wasn’t thrilled, museums not being his thing, but he was happy to spend time with you, cracking his highly inappropriate jokes every 2 seconds.

“Tommy’s been doing horrible you know that angel?” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at his words

“Please no Tommy talk for today, I just want to enjoy the museum.” You tried to brush him off, but you couldn’t help but worry for Tommy.

You were strolling around the museum, John’s arm lazily thrown over your shoulder, looking at different paintings and sculptures, when you spotted a familiar head of blonde hair in front of you, standing next to a man. You quickly pushed John behind the wall next to you, and slightly peaked your head out to spy on her

“Psst, John, who’s that man standing next to Grace?” You had never seen him before, and your first thought was her father, but then you remembered what she told you about him

John peaked his head out above you, and squinted his eyes to get a better look at the man, who as if on queue turned his head back to look around the museum suspiciously, as though he was searching the area, forcing you and John to quickly fall back behind the wall to hide yourselves

“Holy shit” John whispered, taking his hat off and running his fingers through his hair, his expression a mix of being deep in thought, and being dumbfounded

“What? What is it John?” You asked, eyes jumping all over his face trying to make sense of the situation

“That’s the copper. Campbell.” 

You were sitting next to John at a family meeting, Tommy’s eyes boring into you as you avoided his gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him since your argument, as he’d seemingly been avoiding the Garrison, and consequentially, you. You were feeling a bit better about the whole situation now that your suspicions had been confirmed, but you weren’t quite ready to confront Tommy about it. 

The meeting went on for a little over an hour, Tommy groggily heading it. Just as everyone was about to leave, seeing as the meeting had come to an end, John spoke up

“Y/N was right” 

Everyone looked between you and John, confused

“Grace is working with Campbell.”

You saw Polly’s smug expression from the corner of your eye. Of course she knew

“What? How do you know?” Arthur asked, Tommy was still silent, a dazed look on his face

“We were at the museum”, you saw a spark of hurt in Tommy’s eyes at the mention of you and John going somewhere together while you had been away from each other, “and we saw her talking to the copper, they were all suspicious and everything Arthur, you had to have seen them, looking around the place like a pair of guilty kids hiding from their ma” John scoffed “I’m regretting giving her all those tips now...” You smacked his arm

Everyone awkwardly stared at Tommy, but his eyes were locked onto yours

It was the middle of the night when you suddenly heard banging on your front door, waking you up from your peaceful slumber. You groggily trudged towards the door, as you rubbed your eyes to try and keep yourself awake, however all the energy seemed to rush back into your body when you opened the door and saw Tommy standing outside, his tired blue eyes piercing into your y/e/c ones.

“Can I come in?” He croaked out

You didn’t know if it was the hour of the night, or the sight of him, tired, at the door, but you didn’t have it in you to send him away, so you stepped to the side to let him in, his eyes roaming over your apartment as though he was there for the first time, even though it was basically his second home.

“Would you like some tea?” You asked, worried he might be cold from standing outside

“Yes please”

You led him to your kitchen where he sat on one of your dining room chairs, you noticed he sat in the same one he always sits in, right opposite the stove, so he could watch you cook. You boiled the tea in silence, before pouring it into the mug he had brought over once and never taken back. It was a simple white mug that Finn had scribbled on with crayon when he was smaller, the crayon never seeming to wash off no matter how many times you scrubbed the mug. The both of you sat in silence, sipping your tea until Tommy spoke up

“I’m sorry Y/N” He looked at you with sorry eyes

“Thomas...” You began

“Please don’t call me that” He pleaded

“But it’s your name. What am I supposed to call you?”

“Tommy. I’m Tommy. You always call me Tommy, don’t change that.”

You stared down into your mug, not being able to meet his eye

“I fucked up Y/N, I was in a bad place and I know it’s no excuse but I was so tired and it just seemed so easy to walk in there and fill my system with as much alcohol as possible”

“You believed what she said about me being some stuck up cunt, you didn’t listen to me when I told you she wasn’t to be trusted” as angry as you were, you were mostly sad. Sad your relationship with Tommy had come to this point

“I know Y/N, and I know I fucked up and I know I made a huge mistake I’ll never forgive myself for, but I love you, I love you so much and I can’t live without you. Just this one week without you has broken me and you don’t know how much it hurt me to see you and not be able to hold you, not have you by my side. To know that I wronged you.”

You were staring into his eyes, trying your hardest not to cry

“You’re only saying this because John confirmed she was working for the copper...” you meekly replied, not believing your own words

“No. I was going to speak to you after the meeting because I’d finally gotten the chance to see you. That other girl hadn’t even crossed my mind once”, his voice was firm and you could tell he was determined to have you forgive him

“Tommy... I don’t-”

“Y/N please, give me another chance, I don’t want to lose you because of something so stupid, because I’m so stupid. Please Y/N I can’t live without you” You noticed a tear run down his cheek and struggled to control your own emotions. You loved him and it broke your heart to see him so upset.

You got up from your seat, panic glossing over Tommy’s eyes before you walked up to him and hugged him, his head resting on your stomach with your arms holding his head close to you

“It’s okay, I forgive you, just don’t cry, please. It doesn’t suit you” You smiled down at him, your hand holding the side of his face as you used your thumb to wipe away the tear on his cheek, Tommy leaning into your touch

“And you really are stupid”, you half cried, half laughed “promise me you’ll never do that again” you held out your pink to him

He smiled up at you and took your pinky with his own 

“I promise.”

AAAAAAH this is the end guys! I decided to give it a happy ending because fuck it why not! This is my first completed series and I really hope you guys enjoyed it. I went a bit crazy with the ending and I hope it’s not too cringe or disappointing, I just couldn’t stop myself. I was thinking about making a version where the reader ends up with John instead (because I love John), so let me know if you would be interested in that

Requested tags: @namelesslosers​

[bonnymori]

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Word count: 2760+ (i'll try to keep bigger lengths such as this one!)

Synopsis: You meet a new classmate who's working along Nanami, you think he's fun to be around, it stands the same to him about you. Later, feelings unravel.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Itadori Yuuji x gn!reader (2) FLUFF, TONS OF FLUFF - and some comfort (3) With the small participation of... Ino Takuma!! I really like him too, that's why <33333 (4) This is pretty platonic, but also not? (5) Ending turned sorta cliché... but I liked it u.u

A/N: This boy made me run rampant... to fhe point it's not single attraction anymore I just wish him happiness (smh if only my parents knew...) also next post will be Toji's fic pt. 2! Y'all see the first part is almost reaching 100 kudos????? I'M SO HAPPY EHSODJWKDKSJD- thanks for all the new followers and the support!! <33

Ever since his fake death, Itadori has been training alone with the help of Gojo - and now, he works along a freshly new face, who belongs to a senior, founds out ex-salaryman named Nanami Kento. He's far a thousand times more strict than Gojo. Itadori doesn't really likes the change, because Nanami is a person he can't get along. This whole guy's appearance scream "work 4 life"; he has proved different, now he screams "work is shit - but I gotta do it because others won't".

They've just finished cleansing the outside of a movie theater off a few curses, when Itadori hears shouting from far behind them. Two figures approach, waving excessively. He quickly picks on Nanami's tired sigh beside him.

"Nanami! We figured out you'd be here! Our mission has been finished and we wanted to catch up to have lunch together!" A male clad in a full black outfit shouts, he has brown hair and a beanie on top of his head, looking quite content.

The other person simply trots next to him in silence, approaching with a friendly smile. They notice Itadori faster than the male, smile widening and quickly waving hello, suddenly eager to reach up to them. The gesture makes the pink haired boy perk up, curious to why the other person looked so joyful. His question is easily answered, when they tug on the man's sleeve and motion to him.

"Ino, we have a third buddy!" The dude looks at him with widened eyes. "So nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N! It's great to see new faces around!"

Itadori smiles at your energy, knowing already he would click with you very well.

"I'm Ino Takuma, sorry for not noticing you before! Your uniform looks cool." Itadori exchanges a few compliments with Ino, before the man turns to talk with Nanami, leaving him and you together.

"Yes! I'm Sukuna's vessel, Itadori Yuuji-desu! My type of woman is Jenn-"

You turn to him. "So, are you a first year?"

"Geh? Weren't you dead though?!"

"I was!- I am!- Please keep secret."

"Okay!"

"Ahem." Nanami coughs, drawing attention. "I requested you two to not come after me today. Itadori here is the reason why."

"That's no problem, we're very capable of keeping secrets." You threw your arm over Itadori's shoulder, him nodding along with you.

"Oh really, then remember to keep quiet about it. I'll let this slide." The group of students nervously at Nanami's intimidating tone. "But, I'll get to have my break alone."

"Gah!" Ino exclaimed, watching Nanami walk away; he also left the responsability of taking care of Itadori for you two, leaving without a word. "It really had to be today, when Nanami would take us to his favorite bakery..."

"Crybaby." You teased. "Itadori here can't go outside where anyone can see him, he's dead. So, we were to order food either way because he shouldn't be left out."

"Augh okay, it would be unfair."

"So, where are you staying Itadori?"

"At Gojo's state!"

"Whoa, I've never been there before." Ino commented, waiting as you sent a message to Ijichi to pick them up.

"He's my teacher, a very cool one!"

"I imagine! Ooookay, once we get there I'll get the food."

Itadori felt as his chest would burst of excitement, finally there was people around him again, he couldn't be less happy about it.

"Sharing is caring!"

Itadori laughed as you wrestled with Takuma for some fries, netflix long forgotten in the background, as watching the banter was way more entertaining. Most of the time, Ino rambled a lot about Nanami, while he rambled a lot about Gojo. The guy even showed him the cool scar under his beanie. He felt kinda upset after explaining the exchange was just temporary, his stay under Nanami's wing wasn't decisive, and therefore, he was more like a classmate than a partner.

Itadori also learned a lot about you. He was surprised to find out that you, although energetic, was the one to speak the lesser in conversations. His surprisement grew even bigger when you told him you're a exchange student from Kyoto, arriving Tokyo about the same month as him - thankfully, you were to say for good.

Conversations flowed easily in the air, until a voice from the doorway barged in.

"Yuuji-kun! Don't forget about your lessons! Hi kids! Bye kids!" Gojo said playfully, throwing the familiar punching bear to Itadori before leaving.

"What's this thing?" Ino asked.

"It's to help me control my cursed energy. So while I watch the movies, if I don't charge it with cursed energy it punches me square in the face. I thought I had mastered this thing already, but he insist I keep training with it." Itadori grumbles.

"At least it's cute." You commented, taking a sip of your drink.

"Until it punches you in your face without warning!" The pink haired boy barks.

The talks died down, the three of you eating quietly when another movie is played on the screen. Itadori didn't bother reading the title, it was a plain one about a zombie apocalypse that got him extremely bored, yet he kept watching still so the plushie didn't punch him in the face again; he's been keeping a record since all his last cursed energy training lessons were a sucess to this day. When his head started nodding and eyelids dropping Itadori can't remember well, about fourty five minutes of movie perhaps? Make it fifty, the second slumber took over his body completely.

When he awoke once again, it was near midnight, the clock on the wall told him so. He also noticed a soft and warm surface supporting his head, figures, it's your shoulder he's resting into, he feels an arm around his own shoulders and your cheek placed upon his hair.

"Hey, it's late." You immediately notices he's awake, calling out softly. "You should sleep on your room, or something, better to your spine."

He chuckles when you poke his side. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm surprised, you just met me today, and now is sleeping on my shoulder."

"I'm not, that happens often to me."

"Sleeping on people's shoulders?"

"No! Making friends quickly." Itadori likes your gentle warmth, your hug, everything makes him feel at home. "I met two more people before you for two weeks, but they can't see me, because I'm dead."

"So I'll keep you company, that's my new mission."

His eyes widen at that, a oh so little blush covering the tip of his ears.

"For how many time I slept anyway?" He asks.

"About two- no, three hours. You missed two movies, and this one is about to end."

"And you stayed here the whole time?" He motions to your shoulder.

"Yep. That reminds me I gotta pee."

Itadori grumbles, but quickly lifts himself off you, respecting your needs. That gives him some time to look around, he notices Ino is gone, and the plushie sits quietly at the other side of the couch, unmoving.

"Y/N! How did you manage to make it quiet down?" He's beyond bafflet.

"...que."

"What!"

"I said!" You arrive quickly at the doorframe, hands still wet from when you washed them. "I used my innate technique."

"Oh! How is it like?"

"It's kinda funny, gimme a moment." You left to wipe off your hands, coming back in a second. "So, just like Shoko, I produce reverse curse energy, but it's quite different than hers, I can't heal people. That's why we often call it positive energy instead. I can use it to soothe off negative energy, so the bear has no cursed energy right now."

"How does it works on people?" He felt very curious about everything, asking away like a kid.

"Since everyone has negative energy, it just makes you sleepy really. But when it comes to curses it's really practical, I can either weaken it or, if the curse is like grade three or four, I can slap them off existence completely by wiping all their energy." You were naturally proud of having a such versatile power, your own energy swirling with pride around you.

"That sounds amazing! Is it why I fell asleep though?"

"Nah, only if I did it on purpose. I guess you were just tired, hope you don't mind I decided to let you rest today."

"No way, it was a good nap."

You nodded. "By the way, Ino left to attend to a drinking party, he paid for our food."

"Drinking? Is he old?"

"Yeah, he's twenty." You chuckled, already expecting that kind of reaction.

"No way! He looks young just like us!"

"That's totally my reaction after I learned he's twenty!"

After that day, you started visiting Itadori weekly to daily, after exchanging numbers he made a little group with you and Ino, naming it the "Nanami trio". But really, he exchanges more texts with you in private, be them memes, cool images he wish to share, etcetera. Although, Ino wasn't left excluded, he ofter brough his xbox to connect to Itadori's tv room and you all would spend hours playing together; he just didn't spend much time with both of you as much. And that was okay.

For a few days, your connection with Itadori died down when he didn't reply to your texts. They would remain unread for some time, the longest being half a day, until he would spam apologies then move on with the topic. That became a routine until one day when you came over to check on Itadori unnanounced, needin to ease off your worries about the boy, only to find him sobbing in the middle of a hallway, staring ahead and beyond, his back to you.

"Ita-?"

"Egh!" Startled, he scrambled to wipe his eyes, turning to you. "H-hey, um, hi."

"What happened?"

"I- he-" His eyes didn't met yours, knuckles white in a death grip. You notice he has a few bandages thrown over his face and arms. The way his shoulders are drawn, as if he wants to shrink into himself is something you've experienced before.

"Something hard to talk about?"

He nods almost immediately, head still facing down.

"It's alright, come with me." You reach for his hands, grimacing slightly when his forceful grip is now on your hand, yet you don't comment on it. He follows you through the state wordlessly.

You two stop on the same tv room, sitting down on the couch. You then guide his head to your shoulder, gently massaging his scalp with the free hand.

"It's alright."

Those two words are chanted like a prayer for the next half hour, at some point, Itadori twisted his body towards yours and unknowingly caged you between him and the sofa arm. He embraced you with a force you didn't have in you, like he didn't want to lose one another. Painful or not, not a muscle moved on your body. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Thirty minutes passed like seconds, you peered down only to find the boy confortably napping against your bosom; at some point you just became the cold side of the pillow to him. That's alright. It brings you joy to be the mom friend anyways. So you decided to join the sleepland aswell, arms still secured around his shoulders and the back of his head.

It feels like the nap hasn't been long, though, because you can feel Itadori's grip loosening and therefore, you're awake.

"Sorry if I broke any bones, in advance."

"Wow, and you only warn me now."

He laughs at your comeback, hands still secured around your waist.

"I'm surprised you let me uh, cuddle you for comfort - and sleep. I don't understand it? You just make me sleepy." He rambled, keeping eye contact with you while his head still rests on your chest.

"That's a piece of cake when you have younger siblings who seek for you every night they get a nightmare."

"Does that mean I can come to you again if I have a nightmare?" There it is, his togepi-kirby cutesy face.

"Are you four?"

"That's mean!" Itadori blushed, squeezing you on his arms. "I like the contact. It puts me at ease."

"Mm, do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped. "No, not really."

Your peach haired friend remained silent, and so did you. It seems he doesn't intend in letting you go soon, or he just really forgot to mention it. It gives them time to think, your younger sisted used to do that sometimes, back in Kyoto.

"Y/N, wanna watch anything?"

"Sure, have you watched Parasyte before?"

"No, let's give it a try then!" Itadori glances at the remote, then back at you - making you confused over his hesitation to move. He notices you noticed it, chuckling nervously. "To be honest, I don't wanna let go."

"It's hurting my back."

"SORRY I'M SORRY!" He jumped away from you like a cat would jolt away from a cucumber, making you snicker.

"It's okay, I just wanted to change positions."

And to tease you, but he didn't need to know that part.

He glared at you with a small pout, typing the initials of Parasyte on the search bar. Outside his line of vision, you were grinning like a idiot, his sweeteness took a tow on you. All the people of Tokyo you met really held a way different spirit from your classmates in Kyoto, Itadori being the nicest of all. It's surprising him being Sukuna's vessel to begin with; being honest, you felt drawn by it.

"Y/N, it's startiiiiing." He cut your daydreaming short, slumping on your side and propping his head on your shoulder.

"This again?" You throw an arm around his shoulders, very much like the first time he cuddled himself on you.

"Don't blame me, you're the one who wanted to change positions. Guess I'll just make some alterations since I'm awake this time!" One of his arms went behind your back and circled your waist, hand resting at your hip.

"It's definely different, since the other time you drooled on me."

"Hhgh, okay okay! Let me enjoy this." For perhaps the actual first time, you're able to watch without exchanging words with one another.

And this time, it's you who's head loll to the side, nose buried on his soft rose perfumed hair. Itadori doesn't comment on it yet, his free hand moves under your legs to lift your whole body up efortlessly when he senses you have fallen asleep.

"I remember you said it's bad for my spine, I wouldn't mind it... yours however."

The boy makes a beeline to the guest room, he sighs when there is no choice but open the door with his foot. Inside, he places you carefully in the soft bed.

Before he could leave, a hand reaches up for his sleeve.

"Itadori," He turned, looking at you. "Make me company?"

He giggles softly - you think it sounds like a highschool girl. "You should start calling me by my first name!" Itadori rambles as he climbs on the bed, arms wrapping around your waist in a motion you're familiar with.

"Yuuji, I'm tired, let me sleep."

"But I wanna talk more..." He pouts. "Also, are we, um, dating?"

You wriggle around, bringing his head down to peck on his forehead, teasing. "Correction, I want to date you."

"Uh, oh." A blush coats his face so quickly, you'd say someone dumped a bucket of red paint on his face.

"Is that a no?"

"No!"

"So it is a no."

"Christ, will you stop teasing for a second, I'm trying to talk here." He makes an angry version of his togepi-kirby face, you can't help but grin.

"You amuse me, but okay. I'll do it for you."

"Thanks." He blinks, the blush slowly fading away. "You know, I lied, not about the contact, I like the contact nonetheless-"

His hand moves to play with yours, such as tapping his tips against yours, or meassuring the palms.

"-it's you who brings me comfort."

It's also your turn to blush, that line was seriously charming.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, we're dating now." You respond, a little eagerly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

This is the best person I could ask for, Itadori thinks, keeping his eyes open as yours shut during the kiss, whom I won't change for anything else in this world.

When you both separate, Itadori feels drowsy and sleepy. His face fits perfectly on your shoulder as always.

"Goodnight, my favorite person."

[thebadboyfanclub]

The Dream Pt. 2 (Geralt x Reader)

So since a lot of you liked this so much I have decided to listen to the people and give y'all a part two. I hope I did it justice and please leave a note to tell me if you like it. Enjoy!

P.s I suggest you read this while listening "like real people do" by hozier

Part 1

-

It had been years since he last saw her, since he had felt her touch, since he heard her tantalizing laugh and gazed upon her glistering skin as she swam with her sisters. He had spend a week with her, sleeping next to her was the most peaceful slumber he ever had, waking up had never been easier when she was next to him, he would scoop her and cradle her in his arms knowing she was awake but allowing her to play the sleepy part cause it made it even better.

The worst part was when he had to leave her, she had slipped away in the middle of the night, when the sun came up she was hidden away from him with her sisters, he had called her name multiple times but she remained unseen. She had heard him, she could see him standing there waiting patiently for her to come out but chose not to, what good could that do? She would only hurt even more if she got to hug him goodbye, no it was better this way.

Jaskier had written and performed many songs about her as him and geralt travelled, as much as Geralt was hurting to listen and be reminded of those times he was also thankful of them, time has passed but the dreams and memories were still vivid. While Jaskier slept Geralt would hold the crystal she had given him, remembering how happy she was that he liked it, he kept it tucked away in his armor to bring him luck

-

"I think it will be best if we stopped at the next village"

"We have to go at the castle in two days, suck it up"

Geralt responded as Jaskier huffed. He had been extra irritated today, something was not quite right, he woke up heavy hearted which was a rare occasion for Geralt yet he chose to keep it a secret, he didn't need Jaskiers blabbering about Geralt being sensitive or whatever the barb had to say.

"Does this forest look familiar?"

"You're stalling"

"I'm being serious, are we making circles?"

Then he heard it, the laugh, her laugh. Geralt immediately made Roach stop as he froze, his eyes shot wide open. How could he have missed it? It's her forest, her lake, he was so in his head that he didn't realize he had to pass by her river.

"Ohhh this is marvelous! Come on Geralt let's go see your nymph."

Jaskier didn't even turn to look at Geralt who was ready to protest, he was already running towards the river.

(Y/n) was about to hide as she caught a glimpse of the eager visitor. She smiled brightly as she swam in a fast pace to reach him.

"JASKIER! WHAT A SURPRISE!"

she got out of the river and wrapped Jaskier in a tight hug. She squealed as Jaskier lifted of the ground for a split second, as she was let go of his welcoming embrace Jaskier span her around to take a look at her.

"My goodness you look exactly the same dear"

"Perk of being a magical creature, you however look so much better, you look like a man"

She was genuinely happy to see him. Over the span of that week Jaskier and (y/n) had developed a sibling type of love, his childlike outlook on life was so colorful and hopeful that you just wanted to be around him.

"Thank you, I'll take it as a compliment"

"Where is he?"

She asked him. Jaskier smile became a bit more mischievous, of course he understood her but it was so beautiful to observe their love. Jaskier could swear that his brood friend became a different person when she was around.

"Up the hill, you should go find him, he was extra grumpy today"

"Sisters! Jaskier is back!"

Jaskier wasted no time and left his belongings on the ground as he ran towards the water. She was perplexed over the fact of why didn't he follow Jaskier, why was he still over the hill. Still, her legs acted on their own as she walked away from the river and closer to him. As she got closer her heart beat grew stronger and it was almost painful, she could hear Roach step and his armor clicking. Finally there he was, his back facing her as he tied his horse to the tree.

"Geralt"

Her voice was barely audible, but of course he heard it. He had heard the encounter between his friend and (y/n) and her light steps as she came to him. For some unknown reason he was scared to face her, even shameful if you will.

He slowly turned to look at her, her cloth that was barely covering anything stuck to her, her hair was wet and her skin under the sun made the drops of water look like diamonds sliding of her silk like skin. He felt a wave of happiness as his eyes met hers, her surprising enchanting gaze put him under her spell that he never wanted to break out of.

They remained like this for a few moments, Geralt instinctively ran to her and lifted her off the ground as he hugged her, his face went to her neck as he took in a deep breath and her smell took over his senses.

"I missed you so much"

She said as tears of joy ran down her face, she closed her eyes as she enjoyed the feel of his armor against her after all this time. Geralt kept her in his arms for a bit after he lightly let her down, her hands went to his cheeks almost immediately, tears still running down hers as she tried to take in his features. Geralts hands remained on her face as they both tried to find the right words to say.

"You-you… I"

"I know. I'm sorry"

She didn't even have to finish her sentence. He understood exactly why she remained hidden back then, he also knew how much pain his departure had caused her. He took her hand in his as she kissed her palm again and again as she smiled and laughed while still crying.

"Don't cry, I'm here"

He whispered to her in such a soft way that you would think Geralt was possessed. He wiped away her tears as they both laughed together, it was a laugh of relief, their hearts finally felt that weight of being apart being lifted and they could breathe freely once again. She was the one to reach out and kiss him in the lips, the kiss showed intimacy, love, eagerness, true passion as the one craved the other so much. Geralt lifted her once again as she laughed in the kiss, to him she was as light as a feather.

"You look beautiful"

"I missed those eyes"

She replied back. So many nights she had jumped out of slumber because she would dream of his eyes, the dreams felt so real that once she was awake she would start crying over the fact that it wasn't real, that those eyes were only in her memory. Now here he was, Geralt in the flesh as she hugged and kissed her all over the face while her melodic laugh filled his ears. To him her laugh was better than any ballad Jaskier or any other barb had sang.

"My dream"

He said as they both took a breath after their kiss, their foreheads touching while she was still hovering over the earth. They were a sight for sore eyes, as they both got lost in each other's eyes and nothing else mattered to them. It was exactly what the poets and writers tried to put to words, yet no one did it justice.

"I want to come with you"

"I want to stay with you"

They said ok unison. Once again laughter was heard as they understood how much alike yet different they were, yet they wanted to sacrifice their life, to leave behind all they knew for the sake of love, they were ready to surrender themselves into this strong feeling and just live together for as long as this world aloud them.

"I shouldn't have left"

"I shouldn't have allowed you to"

She replied. Geralt gave her a kiss on her forehead and let her down once again, still taking in her presence. She smiled at him while she intertwined her fingers with his, silence took over but their eyes said everything, they had reach euphoria in the arms of the other. Their missing half was finally home.

[coeurdastronaute]

HSAU: College Part 1

Previously on HSAU

Morning started the same, every day, rain or shine. Four thirty in the morning, the alarm beeped in the small attic room, and under one section of angled roof, where a pile of blankets slumbered, an arm would appear and slap around until the offending noise stopped. It was precise and methodical and never changed, six days a week.

Lexa ran her hands over her face after pushing off the blankets, but stayed in bed just a few seconds longer, orienting herself. Though it was still summer, the sky hadn’t brightened just yet, and the night was disinterested in ending anytime soon. When she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she stretched and cracked her joints and yawned before grabbing an old shirt to throw over her sports bra and slipping on a pair of shorts. The fan in her window hummed along while the crickets outside groaned in the heat. Outside, the neighborhood she grew up in was quiet and still. A dog barked and calmed itself. No cars moved at all. Every picket fence and yard with signs and flags slumbered before dawn came, and Lexa was the first among the living. July was awake before the dawn as well. It shook off the night from its coat and stretched forward and backward before loping into the streets, covering every surface with a few inches of thick heat. Without the sun, the heat rose up straight from the ground itself, radiating out into the world. Lexa paused halfway through her run and tied her shoe as the light changed for no cars at all. As she stood she dried her forehead on her shoulder and started off again. Her run got insanely longer with the new summer route that took her out towards her uncle’s garage. For no reason at all. “Where’s Bear?” “I let him sleep in,” Lexa smiled before distracting herself with wiping the sweat from her face with her old shirt. “I ran here though, so that’s impressive.” “Yeah, I mean... no Bear though,” Clarke shrugged and hustled about the café, preparing for the opening. It took just a second, but somewhere between flipping the sign on the door and moving to make the second round of coffee, Lexa grabbed her girlfriend’s arm and tugged her back, kissing her like she had been waiting to do since she started her run. “Your mom still at that conference?” “Until Thursday.” “Want me to help you pack?” “Why don’t you let me actually pack and then come over to watch a movie or something,” Clarke chuckled and pushed at her girlfriend’s chest. “I am a great helper.” “No you’re not,” she smiled and ran her hand up Lexa’s neck, pushing her body closer as she found herself stuck between the counter and her quarterback. “I could barely walk after the last time you came over to help.” The words made her shiver, but Lexa grinned as she swallowed and ran her hands over Clarke’s hips. “But you were way more relaxed.” “I can’t wait until practice starts again. You need to work off all that energy somewhere else.” “How about another training session tonight?” The puppy dog eyes were in full effect, distracting her from everything else. The jingling of the bell at the door made them pull apart. Lexa smiled politely, clearing her throat as her girlfriend adjusted her apron. Just a few more days, and they would be gone, away from the safety of their little town. The entire summer had been spent avoiding thinking about it too much, had been spent disappearing to float down the river, to watch movies much too late in Lexa’s room until her mother would come home late from work and politely remind them of the hour, to drop Aden off at his science camp and disappear together to the mountains and spend the day hiking, which inevitably ended with lounging in the shade atop the hill. Lexa took her seat, at her table, and waited until Clarke finished with the first few customers of the morning. Miraculously, without even having to order, a water appeared, with a big bowl of oatmeal and fruit. Just like nearly a year ago, the quarterback sat there and studied plays as the morning rush came and went. Most of her time was spent watching the girl with blonde hair and cheeks that had that damn smile. For the life of her, Lexa couldn’t figure out how she was going to find the motivation to run when she moved to New Haven. XXXXXXXXX

The evening was growing long in the tooth, but neither party could be bothered to let it end without a fight. And even though a mother made her presence known from time to time, it didn’t deter the two sweethearts in the attic hideaway. Nothing really could, with the late-July heat settling on the roof, angry and annoyed. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen your room this clean ever before,” Clarke observed as she hunkered down on the bed while Lexa finished packing and straightening up. “It wasn’t ever dirty, it just feels… I don’t know. Less lived in.” 

“I wasn’t going to leave a mess for my mom.” 

“I know. I just don’t like any of it.” 

“You’ll be doing the same thing in like six weeks.” 

“Oh no. I’m definitely leaving a mess for my mom.” 

Lexa chuckled and zipped up another duffle bag before tossing it on the pile. She gave her room a finally glance and felt a twinge of sadness in the base of her heart, a tiny little tug on her body that felt like she was already gone. She fell into her bed beside her girlfriend and smiled when a hand pushed hair away from her face. 

“You’re going to go across the country tomorrow,” Clarke whispered. “And I will miss you. But you are going to do something spectacular.” 

The quarterback slid her hand around Clarke’s hip, her thumb touching the warm skin there. She liked the feeling of her, and she wanted to remember it. 

“I’ll miss you badly.” 

“Obviously. I’m incredibly missable.” 

Lexa smiled as Clarke held it there and kissed her eagerly, without holding anything back, to try to say what she couldn’t. Hands gripped on her hips and she pushed forward toward Lexa. Hands moved to her neck and she dug her hands into her girlfriend’s hair. 

“I’ll come see you when you move in,” Lexa promised. “Just a three hour train ride and I can be there.” 

“And you’ll work very hard earning that starting spot this summer. No distractions. And if you get a chance,” Clarke grinned and slide her hand up her girlfriend’s stomach. “To get in shape.” 

“You oogling me is really good motivation.” 

“I don’t oogle,” Clarke shook her head as lips moved to her neck. She felt Lexa settle atop her and closed her eyes, pulling her closer, always closer. “I appreciate.” 

“You’ll have a good summer, right? Not miss me too much.” 

“I’ll miss you plenty, but I’ll try.” 

“Will you, um,” Lexa pulled away slightly, her lips a little puffier, her eyes a little more dilated, her hands touching skin and aching for more. “Would you do me a favor?” 

“Your mom is still making dinner. We have like an hour before dinner. I plan on doing a few favors for you.” 

“No, no, not that,” she shook her head. “Well. Kind of that. But I just… I want you to have a good time this summer, and not think about me. But while you’re doing that, could you watch out for Aden? He gets… he gets quiet sometimes. And my mom. She works too hard. I don’t want to leave them.” 

Her eyes were a little glassy with the confession and Clarke pressed her hand to her chest and nodded with a smile before kissing her softly. 

“I’ll keep an eye on them.” 

“You have no idea how good that is to hear.” 

“I can imagine.”

“Any favors I can do for you?” Lexa ventured with a smile. 

“One or two.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

It wasn’t easy for the first week, but Clarke kept telling herself that if she could make it one week, then she could do it, without a doubt. As hard as it was, she clawed her way through the first seven days without Lexa almost intact and only cried a handful to a dozen times. 

They survived with FaceTime and texts and calls. She got to see a lot of Lexa’s new world with tons of pictures and a lot of eager explanations, and Clarke made sure to keep plans with friends, electing to fake it and hopefully find some moments of happiness. And she did, swimming with friends, parties by the river, working at the café. It was all doable when she didn’t take any time to think about it. 

And every night when she talked with her girlfriend on the phone, Clarke had something to tell her that she did that day to keep herself busy. And she got to hear about how crazy training was, and how awesome the team was, and how exciting being on her own seemed to be. Clarke could handle listening to Lexa talk for hours. 

But there was something she needed to do, and she waited until the first milestone of a week to muster up the courage to do it. 

“Clarke, honey, it is so good to see you,” Gabby opened the door and smiled, wiping her hands in the towel on her shoulder before hugging the girl at her door tightly. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” Clarke sighed, melting into the motherly embrace. 

“I hope you’re hungry. I made chicken.” 

“Is it cooked?” 

“Ha ha. Very funny,” she rolled her eyes, grinning as she ushered her guest inside. 

The house smelled warm and delicious, and somehow felt a little different without Lexa’s bag of gear by the door and her cleats clogging up the entryway. The noises were still the same, some music playing over the small radio on the kitchen counter and Aden’s music thumping overhead, but there wasn’t a happy girl about to lope down the steps at the sound of the door and kiss the guest, and everyone knew it. 

“How have you been? How’s summer so far?” Gabby asked as Clarke followed toward the kitchen. 

“Not too bad. Normal stuff. Working and preparing to leave.” 

“Ah, to be young and with the summer ahead,” she wistfully sighed before taking the chicken out of the oven. 

Her phone rang, and Clarke saw the familiar pep in her step to answer it after she looked at the clock, familiar with the schedule Lexa liked to keep. 

“Hey, kid. How are you?” she smiled at her phone as her daughter’s face popped on the screen. “Your timing is great. Look who just showed up for dinner.” 

Clarke waved at her girlfriend from the counter earning a huge smile. 

“Make sure the chicken is cooked,” Lexa offered.  

“Way ahead of you.” 

“How was practice today? You still sore in the shoulder?” 

“It was great. I got some time in on the first line and had a really good film session. I just got back from dinner with a bunch of the guys. It was Shawn’s birthday, so we went to get a bite at this awesome Chinese place I can’t wait to show you both.”

“And you’re back in the dorm by nine?” 

“A couple of the other guys went to grab drinks, but I’ve honestly never been more tired in my entire life, and we have a five call time tomorrow for conditioning.” 

“Okay, honey, well thanks for calling me. You should sleep.” 

“I will. Clarke, wake me up later so you can tell me all about dinner and your day?” 

“We’ll see,” she shrugged and smiled. 

“I’ll be half asleep but I’m extra cute when I’m half-asleep.” 

“It’s true,” Gabby nodded. “She’s impossible to tolerate when she’s awake.” 

“Very funny,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “I love you guys. Have a good dinner. I’m sorry I missed it.” 

“Get some sleep,” they both ordered. 

It was a good dinner. Clarke enjoyed her time with Lexa’s family as she always did, and she felt a little better that Lexa gave her something to do. Maybe it was a win-win all along, that Lexa got to make sure her family was watched, and Clarke would have something to do. She wasn’t sure she could give Lexa all the credit for the plan, just that she was glad it worked out that way. 

XXXXXXXXX

It had been a long two months. Clarke felt every second of it, she thought, despite how busy she was preparing to move across the country. There was still work, and there was still time with friends, still the summer shenanigans she’d come to love, still time with everyone else who was going their own ways as well. 

It took forever and it went on in a blink. But by the time she got off the plane and picked up her luggage, she realized she didn’t particularly miss home at all. As she stood on the curb and waited for an Uber, she wasn’t as daunted by the idea of change as she had expected, but rather eager to embrace it all. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, you’re going to have to move along--”

Dumbfounded, Clarke stared at her girlfriend, who seemed to have somehow gotten taller and prettier in their time apart, standing next to an old truck. Clad in a backward blue ball cap and a torn up workout shirt that looked as if it was still dirty from a morning practice. 

“What are you--?” Clarke began to ask before smiling too much and launching herself into her quarterback’s arms. 

It felt good, to feel Lexa’s arms around her waist, to smell the sun on her neck, to fit so snuggly there. Clarke squeezed with all of her might, kissing what she could smooshed there, with Lexa’s arms returning it, a laugh in her throat strangled from escaping. 

Somehow Clarke realized her legs wrapped around Lexa and she was essentially a koala, latched there. She didn’t care. She kissed her girlfriend, ignoring the honks of the cars and the swirling police that wanted to usher everyone along. She somehow became the person who missed another persons lips. It was infuriating. 

“How did you know?” 

“My mom told me about your flight,” Lexa shrugged. “I borrowed a truck from one of the guys on the line. They think you’re hot.” 

“Well, that’s… sweet, I guess.” 

“I couldn’t wait to see you. Even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“You’re getting soft on me, Woods.” 

“Yeah,” she grinned, squeezing again. “I don’t care. I knew no one would be here to take you to school.” 

“I was just going to uber or taxi.” 

“I’m going to be the person who takes you where you need to go, even if you don’t ask or expect it, and not in as creepy a way as that sounds--”

She was silenced with another kiss as Clarke struggled to hide her smile. 

[elena-reina]

First Love Part 2 - Harry Potter x Reader

Request: Would u write a part 2 to first love? more angst but her and harry end up together? - Anon

Warnings: none

Part 1

"Are you going to the celebration?”

You lifted your gaze from the book you were reading and locked eyes with Harry. You tilted your head to the side, lightly raising an eyebrow. Sitting in the library for the evening enjoying any random book that caught your attention, the room was dimly lit. 

The smell of parchment paper lingered around the room, almost comforting in a way. You were situated near the window so that you could look outside and watch the trees sway through the stormy night before heading off to bed.

“Celebration?” you questioned. 

Harry took your response as an invitation to sit next to you. Uncomfortable, you shielded yourself by subconsciously shifting to the side; however Harry didn’t bother to notice this. 

“Now that it’s Christmas Holiday, the other Professor’s are throwing a small get together for all the staff tomorrow at the Three Broomsticks.”

He gave you a thoughtful look with furrowed eyebrows, his hands pressed together as he twiddled his thumbs back and forth, and an unreadable face. You set your book down on the table in front of you, and pushed your hair behind your ear, clearing your throat.

“Oh, no I don’t think I am. It’s already pretty late.. I should head to bed,” you dismissed, standing up. His head followed your trail. You pressed your lips together, looking from side to side before bowing your head and turning away to walk out the room. You hadn’t realized that you sped walked until you were in your room in only a matter of seconds.

You had been running into Harry more times than you could count on your fingers. Were they coincidences or synchronized. You couldn’t tell. 

Collapsing onto your bed, you grabbed a pillow and threw it on top of your face. You let out a scream that was only muffled by the pillow and slowly lowered it to expose half your face. Your eyes stared up at your ceiling.

You were confused by the communication between you and Harry. In moments you felt like there was a lot left unsaid- but it was also for the better. Some things were better left unsaid. You drifted off to sleep, awaiting for the next morning to come along.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, “I appreciate everything that you do for me deeply. I wish there was more I could do for you. Is there anything you need?”

“No,” you smiled warmly. “I’m okay, you’re all I need.”

Was it easy dating Harry? No, not really. Rumors would spread like wildfire, but neither you nor Harry chose to engage in any of it. However sometimes you would overhear such ridiculousness that you couldn’t help but be upset sometimes.

He frowned, feeling as though you were holding something back. “Are you sure?”

You brought your face closer to his. You brushed your nose with his, grinning.

“Kiss me.”

He smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips on yours, slowly.

A booming clap of thunder jolted you awake from your deep slumber. The deafening sound rattled throughout the room, sending vibrations through your bones. You instinctively flew up into a sitting position, clutching your thick, warm comforter to your chest, looking around the room. Your breath labored, coming in quick, shallow pants as the haze of sleep dispersed from your mind. Your heart was beating fast in your chest. As you try to maintain your breathing, you rub your eyes, repositioning yourself to lay on your side, the pillow beneath your cheek cooling your warm skin.

Looking at the clock, your eyes were still blurry from just waking up, it was morning, but the dark grey clouds outside made the sky dark. Another roar of thunder rumbled throughout your room as the outside stormed. Rain hit your window, endlessly running down the glass. 

“What is wrong with me,” you mumbled, pushing your hand in your face. It’s like your dreams want to torment you. Yawning, you decided it was best to get ready for the day.

Brushing the hair our of your face, you went for your daily stroll through Hogwarts. You loved taking in the scenery of the, now, remodeled school. You remember the Battle of Hogwarts like it was yesterday. The crumbling of the classrooms you’ve spent so long studying in, the countless meals eaten in the Grand Hall, and spending time with everyone overall.

Walking through the open halls, you examined all the potted plants. One of the plants was hidden far back away from the others, dying from a lack of water. The rain outside created an atmosphere of calmness.

Bending over, you grabbed onto the potted plant and stood up, examining a place you could possibly put it down. You lightly grabbed one of the brittle leaves in your hand, feeling it’s leafy-veins.

“What’re you doing?” Harry said, coming out of the blue.

Startled, you jumped accidentally loosening your grip over the plant in your hand, causing it to fall to the floor and break.

“Shit,” you sighed, bending over to clean up the mess from the plant you dropped.

“I’m so sorry, here let me help you,” Harry rushed, bending over with you to help pick up the broken pieces of terracotta.

“No, it’s alright. I’m the one who dropped it-”

Your hands accidentally brush past each others, sending electricity through you. You lift your gaze pulling back, stood up, and pulled out your wand.

“Reparo.”

The pot began to fix itself back together. Slipping your wand back in your pocket, and put the plant near the rain.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized again.

“Don’t worry about it,” you dismissed, “Now, if you’ll just excuse me.” 

You began to walk in the opposite direction of his presence. You knew it that your relationship had ended a while ago, but this didn’t mean you wanted anything to do with him. You tried denying yourself the truth, but deep down you were still bitter about how the breakup ended. And now that you two were both Professor’s at Hogwarts, it’s even harder to forget about everything.

“Y/N, wait, please,” he breathed, catching up to you. “I need to say something.” Annoyed, you stopped and huffed.

“What, Harry? Why do you and I keep running into each other, I’ve got things to do. Why don’t you go and hang out with your best friends, Ron and Hermione,” Your tone sounded more harsh than you had intended. You almost regretted it, but it was too late now. You stood your ground. He was taken back by your outburst.

“Are you avoiding me?” he said, his green eyes searching for any sign of emotion behind your blank ones.

You scoffed, looking to the side at the rain falling. “Yes, Harry! Gosh, how can you be so dense!?” you exclaimed, “Clearly, I’m not over what happened to us-”

“Years ago.”

“I know it was years ago, but I’m still hurt! I loved you for fucks sake, don’t you get that. It took me a while to get over you and erase you from my brain and here you come involving yourself in my life again,” you voice trailed off.

“And you don’t think I haven’t been hurting as well?”

You sneered. “You? Hurting?” you bitterly chuckled, “You’ve got to be kidding me. You ended things with me.”

“To protect you!” he shouted, running his hand through his hair, scratching it. He did this when he was stressed.

“Protect me?! Stop acting like you did it all for me, it was your own selfish intentions. If you weren’t ready for a relationship, you should’ve just said so instead of that bullshit you told me that night.” You were pissed. Your sadness was being masked by your rage.

He mumbled under his breath too quiet for you to hear. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “I can’t hear you.”

“Things were just different that night,” he whispered.

“I agree, it’s when you finally let your true colors shine through,” you began. He opened his mouth to immediately interject, but you beat him to it.

“I meant nothing to you. You said it yourself, Harry. You valued your friendship with Ron and Hermione than your own relationship with me.”

“Stop saying that!” he shouted, raising his voice this time, “It isn’t true! You meant everything to me! EVERYTHING!”

“NO, I DIDN’T!” You yelled back, matching his energy. “YOU ABANDONED US!”

His eyes glossed over, he was on the verge of tears. This normally would have brought you tears as well, but it was like all your emotions were cut off and replaced with anguish. 

“I LOVED YOU AND STILL DO!” He licked his lips.

“Then why did you end things so easily like I hadn’t given you my all.”

He took a breath, his voice wavering. 

“I couldn’t lose you like I’ve lost everyone else in my family, Y/N. Everyone in my life I loved always ended up dead- and if you died because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself,” he paused, “I thought it was better that you be mad at me than dead.”

You were at a loss for words. “All I ever wanted was you.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to take back what I said, but can we please try again?” he pleaded, taking your hands in his. You looked up at him, unsure.

“I can’t get hurt again,” you whispered.

“You won’t, just give me one last chance. I promise.”

Thinking about it for a bit, you shifted on your feet.

“How about this, once you prove it to me first, I’ll let you know how I’m feeling.”

You weren’t ready to completely let your guard down, the truth of the matter is that you were still scared. 

“Deal, now. Will you join me for the celebration later or is that still a done deal?” he said with a small smile forming on his face. You bit your cheek, to hold back your smile, but it evidently came through. Nodding your head, you walked the rest of the way through Hogwarts having a heartfelt conversation with him.

Maybe happy endings do exist sometimes.

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 4

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so…, Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence.

AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

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

Previously:

Not wanting to stay in my head any longer, I drift off into a dreamless slumber awaiting the day that will ultimately decide not only my fate, but the fate of the demons I’ve grown to call, family.

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

CHAPTER 4 - I want you to be the one... (1842 words)

Snapping my eyes awake I shivered against the air as a bucket of ice cold water was thrown into my face.

“Get up human!”

A guard then roughly pulled me up by the shoulder twisting my arms behind my back and locking them together while unlocking the chain on my ankle. Pushing me out of my cell and half escorting me half dragging me out of the dungeon and to where my trial was supposed to take place all before I could even register that I woke up. As we were walking toward what I assumed was the very same courtyard where we welcomed the king not 24 hours ago, I started hearing lots of yelling. Straining to hear, I realized that it was the brothers arguing amongst each other about what they should do and Diavolo attempting to calm them down, sounding conflicted himself. Upon entering the courtyard I locked eyes with the brothers as they fell silent in shock upon seeing me bound in chains as I was escorted on stage where the king was waiting with Diavolo and the brothers.

*Flashback*

After I passed out.

“Father! What did you do to them?!”

“I am humouring you my son. They are being held under the palace and I am forbidding any one of you from making contact with them.”

“My Liege, I implore you to please reconsider your judgment. They are unaware of how the politics work here and they simply misspoke. I assure you they don’t mean you any harm.” Lucifer lowered his head pleading to the king to reconsider his choice.

“Lucifer is right! They mean the world to us and they can’t possibly do anything to you or the Devildom!” Mammon joined in. The brothers then each said their piece about you.

“You all disgust me, pleading for a human's life. You are my highest ranking demons. Show some dignity!”

“With all due respect my king, that human you are referring to is the one that bettered your kingdom and has achieved far more than any human, demon, or angel could hope to accomplish in the span of just 1 year. They have brought us all together and mended ties we didn’t even know were broken. Y/N is a human I would give up my Pride for-”

“My Greed for-”

“My Envy for-”

“My Wrath for-”

“My Lust for-”

“My Gluttony for-”

“My Sloth for-”

“My title for-”

“My powers for-”

“Y/N is a one of a kind human. They have found their way into our lives and there is nothing you can do to take that away from us my Liege.”

“That was quite the speech Pride, although that doesn’t change my opinion about them. If anything, it just makes my decision all the more ironclad. But I will humour you all. Seeing as how you’re all willing to give up the very thing that makes you, you for the human, a public trial will be held. Their fate shall be decided there. Until then, I forbid any contact between them, through their pact, dreams, or any interference with the timeline. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Liege” they all responded simultaneously as the king left the room.

*Later in the east sitting room with Lucifer, Barbatos and Diavolo*

“What are we going to do Dia?” Lucifer exclaimed as he did something he has never done while sober and flopped onto a couch opposite of Diavolo as Barbatos sat into a seat in between them.

Holding his head Diavolo responded.

“I don’t know Luci. I just don’t know. As the crown prince I can’t go against my Father and as my right hand neither can you, but things are different with them involved. I just don’t know.”

Sighing, Diavolo laid down on the couch no longer giving a care about anything, just thinking about different possibilities.

“Barb-?”

“No can do my lord. The king forbade me from using my powers. Even if you were to command me, I don’t have access to them for the time being.”

“Do me a favour Barb and drop the title for now? Please? I need my friends, not my subordinates.”

“Alright, Diavolo. Let me say this then. You both know that no matter what happens tomorrow, Y/N will be banished from the Devildom. We all know that the king isn’t above making us suffer just to prove a point. How are we going to support Y/N and stop them from harming themselves should they be banished to the human realm?”

“Jeez Barb! That isn’t what we need right now! I don’t want to think about that.” Lucifer added the last part with a whisper.

“My brothers are going to be absolutely devastated. Y/N kept them all together, it’s going to be really difficult keeping everyone together with them gone.” “Adding to the list of problems, now that my Father is back, we 3 now serve him. I don’t get to dictate anything until he crowns me, not like before. We will all be swamped with more work as Father will more than likely try to “fix” my improvements to the Devildom.”

The three sat in silence, lost in their minds, endless possibilities and scenarios floating around in their heads. Eventually, Lucifer excused himself under the guise of some unfinished paperwork and returned back to the House of Lamentation.

“Barb?”

“Yes?”

“What have we done?”

“I don’t know my friend. I don’t know.”

*End Flashback*

Walking up the steps towards the stage, I held my head high making eye contact with no one other than my demons as I kept my expression as comforting as possible for them. Poor Asmo and Mammon looked like a dam threatening to burst. Beel wasn’t faring any better holding on to Belphie for comfort. Levi squeezed Mammon's hand discreetly. Satan gave a sad smile. Lucifer stood by Diavolo’s side, each giving you the smallest hint of a smile while Barbatos stood behind Diavolo's left looking like he always did, but after spending so much time with him, you noticed the small sign of sympathy in his eyes. Making my way center stage I was pushed onto my knees in front of the king. I raised my head up high making direct eye contact in defiance. The king then addressed the crowd which I noticed is filled with not only Demons and Sorcerers of different powers but many demons I knew from RAD and called my friends. They looked solemn as I realized that I made an impact on more than just the brothers.

“Denizens of Devildom! Here is a human who has upset the balance of the Devildom…”

I drowned out the rest of his speech not focusing on anything except for my family up on stage. Ignoring the ringing in my head, I reached out with my pacts just enough for them to feel it. I sent them some of my favourite memories over the years and wished Satan a happy birthday before the king declared my sentence. Holding my head high, I locked my gaze onto him.

“The human known as Y/N is hereby banished from the 3 realms, their soul to be returned to oblivion!”

Smirking he turned to face me. Smiling, showing off his fangs he asked,

“I believe that is a suitable sentence, don't you Y/N?”

I ignored him and turned to the demons on stage. I watched as Beel grabbed onto Belphie harder as tears came to both of their eyes. I saw the dam break in both Mammon and Asmo as Levi and Satan both battled their own tears to try and comfort them. I watched as Lu’s face paled and Diavolo squeezed his friend's shoulder a little tighter to try and ground him. Barbatos looked more solemn as his eyes started to water ever so slightly. The king then summoned a sword, turning towards the brothers, then walked until he stood directly in front of Lucifer and Diavolo. Letting go of his friend's shoulder, both Diavolo and Lucifer bowed their heads towards their king. He then shifted to face Lucifer and held out the sword towards him. A look of shock crossed over the brothers' faces as Lucifer looked up to his king in confusion hoping this didn’t mean what he thought it meant as he slowly accepted the sword.

“Lucifer, Cardinal Sin of Pride. You will be the one to deliver the blow.”

The colour fully drained from his face as the king stepped to the side to allow Lucifer to step up. Slowly with a trembling breath, Lucifer approached you with pleading eyes silently praying that this was some sick nightmare. His brothers looked on in horror, shock freezing them in place. Stopping in front of you, he took one look at you, turned to the king and lowered the sword.

“No… I won’t.”

“Pardon me?”

“I said NO! I will not kill Y/N!”

“Yes, you will.”

The king's eyes started glowing as an aura surrounded Lucifer. His brothers broke out of their trance and tried to reach towards you to hold back their brother from killing you against their wishes. Diavolo and Barbatos stood in shock as the scene unfolded.

“Hear me, denizens of the darkness.” Everyone onstage immediately stopped in their tracks and looked my way.

“Hear me denizens of the darkness. You who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it.” Upon starting the incantation, a magic circle appeared beneath me and Lucifer; my shackles started glowing. An intense pain shot through my skull. Pushing past the pain I continued.

“HEAR ME AND DO AS I COMMAND!” The shackles around my wrists broke under my power and I stood up facing the brothers. The king tried to move towards me but the circle by my feet prevented him from getting close.

“I Y/N order the 7 sins not to interfere with this trial. You are not to make a move against the king after the completion of the trial. You 7 are to remain loyal to Lord Diavolo and continue serving him as his word now outranks the kings!” Ignoring the pleading looks on the brothers' faces, I turned to Lucifer.

“Lucifer, Avatar of the Cardinal Sin of Pride, you are to follow through with your king's command and execute me as is due with your sword. You are to remain loyal to Lord Diavolo above the crown. You are to continue watching over your brothers and are not allowed to fight me on this decision.” Cupping Lucifer's cheek I whispered into his ear, “I want you to be the one Lu.” Stepping back I finished my order. “Now kill me!” Kneeling before Lucifer I looked up with a smile on my face watching as unshed tears began pooling in his eyes as he summoned his sword.

“LUCIFER! NO!”

“LUCIFER! PLEASE NO!”

“Y/N!”

Lucifer looked into my eyes muttering something in angelic before whispering, “I’m sorry…”

With tears burning his eyes he buried the sword deep into my heart.

“Thank you”

[kim-ruzek]

family we chose

Summary: spec fic for season nine bc that photo of paddy with painted nails Sent me. (Ft. Dad!am and cuteness)

Warnings: Cute adorableness and the possiblity you may die from how fluffy it is.

Word Count: 3.6k (lol can you believe I thought this would be 1-2k?)

Read on AO3

Notes: Paddy + painted nails + Theories = me going fucking crazy with feels.

“Adam, are you done yet?” Makayla calls to him, her voice a whine. Six year olds are not known for their patience, and Makayla is no different.

“Almost,” Adam replies as he finishes up putting away the freshly washed plates from their dinner. Makayla is old enough that she can play, happily and contently, by herself without his participation but during dinner she had asked him if they can play princesses and who was he to say no?

Especially when it helps distract her from the awkward questions she’s asking about Kim, and the clear anxiety and worry which is clearly plaguing the girl, the missing presence of her adoptive mother hanging over them both like a dark cloud.

It’s day two of Kim being in the hospital—day three, if he was to count the night Kevin and Jay found her. She had been in surgery for hours, and it had killed Adam to have to stay away, to not he at the hospital, but Kevin stayed on the phone with him and he was grateful for that.

And it was easier knowing that he was doing what Kim would want, that he was looking after her little girl, helping to preserve some normality in Makayla’s life.

When he had looked after her that night, he had just told her that Kim was busy at work, and he could see that Makayla had sensed that wasn’t just it, but for the most part she believed him. The next day was more difficult, however.

They knew that Kim is going to be okay. She has quite the recovery ahead of her, and she’s nowhere near ready to leave the hospital—she hasn’t even stayed awake for more than five minutes, and even that might be too generous. And so Adam had the task of telling Makayla this.

In his years as a cop, he’s had to do a lot of notifications and telling people that their loved ones are in the hospital but it never gets easier, and none of it could prepare him for having to tell Kim’s six year old.

It had gone better than Adam had thought, with him discovering that he’s a little better at this whole thing than he assumed he’d be. But Makayla’s worries and fears was clear; Adam having to reassure her that Kim will be coming home, and that in a few days, she’ll be able to see her.

“And,” Adam had told her with a smile, hoping to distract her. “Until then, we can have lots and lots of fun together.”

His goofy smile and his light hearted voice seemed to reassure her, as she had smiled at him them, an adorable toothy grin that somehow—even though it makes no sense to as why—reminded him of Kim.

Makayla had asked him if they could make Kim a card, to which he obviously said yes, and they had a fun evening with card, paint and glitter and Adam thought that maybe he’ll actually be able to do this. She did, however, when night came ask if she could sleep in his—Kim’s—bed and, although it sent him briefly into a panic, he immediately said yes, wanting to be able to report to Kim that he did everything right.

“Adam!” Makayla calls impatiently again and Adam laughs, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m coming,” he says, walking to her and taking a seat beside her. His bones complains about how low to the ground he has to be, but Makayla’s bright smile makes it worth it.

“Okay then, lil darlin’, how do we play princesses?” He asks her and her smile widens at her new moniker he’s given her. He called it her yesterday, right after yet another thought that Kim and her may not be blood related, or even known each other for long, but there’s already so many similarities between the two came to him.

“I’m not that small, Adam! I’m third tallest in my class!” Makayla had initially protested to the lil part of name.

“I know you’re not that small,” He had agreed, even though to him, she is, obviously. “But you’re lil darlin’ because you’re Kim’s daughter and Kim is darlin’.”

He had then momentarily freaked out, because he’s not sure how she feels about being called Kim’s daughter, and because he was scared that she’d think he was forgetting all about her mother, the one who raised her for six years.

But Makayla didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seemed to beam wider at it. She made it clear that she liked Kim and her having matching monikers, and that she’s Kim’s junior—and thankfully, she didn’t ask why Kim is darlin’, as Adam had no idea how to answer that.

Makayla, now, in response to his question, jumps up and runs to her bedroom. She’s back shortly after, with a box filled with princess outfits, and bright materials, like a fluffy neon boa scarf.

“Here!” she places the box down, smiling proudly. Adam eagerly returns the smile, before fishing out a tutu out of it. He holds it up, grinning goofily at her.

“Somehow I think this won’t fit me.” He jokes and Makayla giggles.

“Of course it won’t, silly. You can use some of Kim’s clothes!” Makayla tells him.

Makayla quickly chooses what clothes she—and he—is going to wear, wrapping the neon boa scarf around his neck proudly. And then she’s going back to her bedroom, coming out with a smaller, more delicate box.

“First, we need to put on this!” She exclaims, opening the box to reveal kid makeup, nail polish and some stickers. Adam raises his eyebrow.

“Kim says we have to put it on before the clothes, so we don’t get the nail vanish on it.” Adam thinks she means varnish, her mistake making his heart constrict at the adorableness. Makayla then grabs this sheet, putting it over the rug.

“And we need to make sure we don’t mess the carpet,”

With that done, Adam peers into the box. “Okay, what colour do you want to paint my nails?”

It’s not a sentence Adam ever thought he’d say, not at this time anyway, but he doesn’t mind. Not even when Makayla’s eyes fill up with glee and mischief as she happily exclaims;

“All of them!”

Adam isn’t one who takes much photos, especially as he got older and more serious, and had less things in his life he wanted to document. But he takes lots after him and Makayla dress up, wanting to have a record of this for when Kim is properly awake.

And, if he’s honest, for himself, as—despite the love of his life being in hospital in the ICU—this is the happiest he’s been in a while. He snaps photos of not only Makayla, but himself, capturing his made up face, the tiara on his head and his multi-coloured nails.

Makayla is at school the next day, and Adam is in Kim’s hospital room. He’s showered and washed off his face, and in his clothes, obviously, but his nails are still painted. Makayla seemed to be really happy at him letting her paint his nails—saying offhandedly that her uncle never used to let her paint his nails—so he kept them. That, and because he couldn’t find the remover for it, of course.

“Hey, Kim.” Adam says softly. Kim’s not awake, still sleeping and if it wasn’t for the bruise on her face, the hospital gown, and all the wires surrounding her, Adam would think she looks so peaceful, like she’s just slumbering in her bed at home.

She’s off the ventilator, now, and Adam thinks that he’ll be able to take Makayla in to see her tomorrow, even if she’s not awake when he does, because she doesn’t seem as scary, as hit and miss and near death.

He’ll never be able to get the image of her lying attached to the ventilator, the day after they found her. Adam had dropped Makayla off at school and headed straight to the hospital. Kevin had met him outside, and warned him it wasn’t pretty, and he thought he was prepared—but nothing could ever prepare him for that.

Adam sits down next to her bed, now, lightly holding her hand in his. He’s immediately brought back to all those years ago, to when she was shot the first time, and she was in the hospital. He feels just as sick as he did then, feeling as if half of his heart is gone.

He can’t help thinking how this is the reverse of then, too. Back then, he had to hide how he felt from everyone, the only one who knew was Kim. And now, now he doesn’t have to hide it, everyone in his unit knows just how much he loves her, but Kim doesn’t—or rather, perhaps, can’t see it, for whatever reason.

He’s caught up in this thought that he doesn’t notice her stirring, her eyes opening. He only realises she’s awake when she squeezes his hand—weakly, still not strong—and his eyes look up from the spot they’ve been staring at and to her face.

Kim’s eyes are only half open, heavy lidded, but she’s awake and she’s looking at him. Currently, the only people who has gotten to see Kim, awake, is the doctor, the nurse and Kevin and Trudy. Adam knows he’s needed by Makayla, but he can’t help but feel envy, jealousy, that others got to have her see them and he hasn’t.

But now she’s awake, and she’s looking at him. There’s a smile dancing on her lips, soft and gentle but so, so Kim. His mind can’t help but go back to that first time she was shot again, and about the smile she gave him then, when she realised he was there, with her.

“Adam,” Her voice is barely there, dry and hoarse, coming out a little more than a whisper. But his heart skips a beat at hearing her say his name, and he knows he should calm himself, because Kim has made it clear that dating isn’t on the table—even if he thinks her reasons are nonsense—but he can’t because he loves her, because he nearly lost her, because he’s spent the last few days looking after her daughter and wishing she was his as well, because she’s awake and she’s looking at him and she’s saying his name.

“Hey, Kim.” He says again, managing to catch himself just in time before he accidentally slipped out a darlin’ instead. Her eyes glance down before glancing back up, her smile widening.

“I like the nails.” Her smile is playful, teasing and even though her voice is still dry, he can hear the amusement in it. Adam looks down at his hands, still around hers, and he feels oddly exposed, that it’s apparent just how desperate he is for them to be a family.

“Makayla and I played princesses.” He tells her, proudly, shrugging off any feelings of desperation and insecurity. He then pulls back from her hands, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“I took photos—if you want to see?” He offers, watching as Kim’s eyes light up. She instantly tries to move, to adjust herself so she’s sitting up more and he immediately stops her, jumping to help her instead.

Kim shifts over, encouraging him to sit down on the bed so that she can see the photos with ease. She’s been in the hospital for days, and the sterile smell clings to her, but he can still smell her, the essence that’s just Kim as she rests against him. He tries to calm his beating heart, but that’s impossible whenever Kim is around him, whenever she is on him.

Especially right now. When all he can think about is how much he loves her, and how domestic this all feels, showing her photos of her daughter, the daughter Adam’s been looking after.

Adam is showing her the photos, getting near the end of the mass he took, when he realises she’s stopped cooing. He thinks she must’ve fallen back asleep—understandable, depending everything her body has been through—but when he looks down at her, she’s still awake.

She’s not looking at the photos, but at him. There’s a softness, affection, in her expression and Adam doesn’t quite know how to read it.

“I love you.” She says then, her voice the clearest it’s been. He blinks, stunned, not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

“Kim—” He goes to say that they don’t need to talk right now, that he doesn’t need to hear this, but she continues, fixing him a look—a look that reminds him a fair bit of Trudy—telling him to be quiet.

“When I was in that warehouse, dying, all I could think about—other than Makayla—was you. I even called out to you; all I wanted was you, to have you save me. I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was how we’ve left things, how I’ve pushed you away. You’re my person, Adam. I know, now, I’m never going to want anyone else and all what I’ve been trying to convince myself about you, about us, it’s bull. I love you, and I never want to be scared that I’ll die without you knowing that ever again.”

This is everything Adam has wanted to hear for years, and exactly what he’s been desperate for ever since, right before Kim fostered Makayla, they slept together again. It’s embarrassing how many nights he’s spent lying awake, staring at his ceiling, wishing for her to say this to him but now, when it’s actually happening it, all he can do is stare, stunned, at her.

“Kim,” He says again, her name leaving his lip sounding quite like a plea. Hearing her say this, hearing her tell him this, it means more to him than he could ever describe and he doesn’t know exactly how to express that, how to express the thoughts and feelings in his mind, in his heart.

“Look, we don’t need to like. I don’t expect anything from you. I know we have stuff we need to talk about, I can’t click my fingers and make everything that’s happened between us okay. But I needed you to know this—I thought I could wait, until I’m better. But you—you let Makayla paint your nails,” It’s so much more than that one gesture, Adam can tell. He can tell from how she says the words, the way seeing his nails painted means so much to her, that it signifies something so much more important than just him having fun with her daughter. And he can tell because he knows her, knows Kim better than he even knows himself.

And he understands exactly what she means, excited what she’s feeling. When he let Makayla paint his nails, he did hope that it would show Kim that he’s taking his role seriously, taking the fact that he’s their family seriously, but that wasn’t why he let her. Adam let her because she’s an adorable child, because she’s Kim’s daughter, because she deserves to be happy. He wasn’t thinking about what he could personally gain from it, it was just something he did without much thought, something that just made sense to agree too—just because Makayla asked.

Adam can see that Kim understands that, and that’s what’s resonated with her, that’s what’s making her look at him like that, with love and adoration and utter affection, a look he hasn’t quite seen in her eyes since the day he proposed to her.

It’s the first time since Kim was pregnant and let him in that hope blooms in him; that Adam has hope that finally, finally, he’ll get his girl again.

He softly strokes his thumb against her hand, before lifting it up and giving it a gentle kiss. “I know, darlin’.” He doesn’t hesitate or hold back now, knowing that it will be received well, and Kim smiles at it.

Adam notices then that she’s looking tired, and realises that her body needs more rest. He gently puts down her hand. “Rest, now. We can talk more about this—us—when you’re better. You need to rest and recover, because I know there’s an adorable six year old who misses you very much.”

Kim smiles again and Adam’s heart warms at the sight of it. “And darlin’? I love you, too.”

She falls asleep shortly after that. Adam doesn’t particularly want her too, not ready to stop seeing her awake, to talk to her, to see her smile and hear her voice. But he’s okay with it, because she wants him and she might be asleep now, but they have all the time in the world, the rest of their lives, to be together.

A couple days later, Kim has gotten stronger and needs less wires, the bruise on her face going down and colour returning to her face. She’s still got such a long recovery ahead of her, and she still needs to be in the hospital for a few more weeks, but Adam can finally bring Makayla with him.

The six year old is very excited, waking Adam up at an unholy time in the morning, practically jumping around the place. She’s made Kim another card and several pictures—some of which includes Adam in them, which warmed his heart—and while she understands Kim can’t come home just yet, she’s still very happy she can see her.

Adam walks through the hospital to Kim’s room, Makayla on his hip—although the way she’s bouncing, squirming with barely contained excitement, it’s a miracle Adam is able to keep hold of her.

He’d have let her bound ahead, walking by herself, if it wasn’t for it being a hospital, Adam wanting to make sure she’s contained and doesn’t cause any destruction.

There are many perks to being a cop, and being able to weave through the hospital with ease just with the wave of your badge is one of them. Although, Adam’s badge isn’t around his neck, Makayla having claimed it for herself.

“Can I wear it?” She asked him that morning, when he explained to her why he was wearing it around his neck, on display. He had agreed, not only because she’s too cute to say no to, but because she’d be carried by him, which would clearly show the other adults around that he was a cop, even if she was wearing it.

“Uncle Kev!” Makayla greets Kevin enthusiastically as they approach Kim’s hospital room. Kevin’s been sitting with Kim until they arrive, and at Adam’s text that they had, he had clearly headed out, ready to greet them.

“Hey, M.” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s curls, the girl grinning as he does so. He then nods in greeting to Adam; the two men still need to have a long conversation—in which Adam knows his role will be too listen, the only words being an apology—and they won’t be totally fine until they do, but there’s an understanding between them.

“How is she?” Adam asks Kevin, discreetly asking if Kim is tired, so he can prepare Makayla for that.

“Good, getting better and better. She’s been napping all morning, so she’s ready for this little one,” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s hair again. “Now, M, Adam’s explained that Kim’s gonna need to take it slow? That it might be scary—but she’s okay, she’ll be home before you know it?”

Kevin’s years of raising his siblings is displayed in how he talks to Makayla, using a soft, but adult tone?

After Makayla nods in answer to Kevin, Adam’s walking into Kim’s hospital room, the six year old on his hip. Kim’s sitting up in her bed, ready and eager to see Makayla. A wide, happy grin overtakes her face as soon as they enter and Kim sees Makayla.

Adam puts Makayla down as soon as they cross the threshold and she wastes no time running up to Kim’s bed. She does hesitate before jumping onto the bed, taking a step back and cautiously climbing up at the end, not wanting to accidentally sit on Kim.

Adam watches this, and watched how then Kim guides Makayla into her arms, her daughter immediately snuggling into them, looking happier than she’s looked in days. The scene tugs at Adam’s heart; they really do belong together, that is clear, their bond strong and true.

“Come cuddle, Adam!” Makayla then looks back at him, smiling that grin of hers, beckoning him over enthusiastically. He hesitates, not wanting to intrude on the moment, on Kim’s reunion with her daughter, but then Kim smiles at him; a big, loving smile which invites him over.

“Kim, guess what?” Makayla turns back to Kim as he heads over. “I’m lil darlin’! And it’s not ‘cos I’m short, but 'cos I’m your daughter!”

The way this makes Kim feel is clear to Adam, her expression open. She responds to Makayla, but she catches his eye, and Adam knows exactly what she’s trying to express to him.

When he reaches her bed, Kim pats her other side, encouraging him to sit down with them. It’s a tight fit, Adam barely on the bed, but it’s nice. He lifts up his arm, wrapping it around Kim, and she leans into him, Makayla snuggling against her still.

Makayla quickly urges Adam to pass her bag to her, so that she can show Kim all the stuff she made for her. Kim’s face lights up at them, looking with awe and wonder and love but all Adam can think about is how well the three of them fit together, that they’re already like a family.

There’s so much to discuss and work out, but Adam is looking forward to what the future holds if this is even a small glimpse into what it’ll be like.