#but daniel saying he had mixed feelings about the engagement made me think thoughts

[lost-in-fandoms]

Max finds out about Josh's announcement from the gossip channel in the server he has with the redline boys.

He doesn't often go there, he doesn't really care, but he's on holiday and he's already bored, so he spends more time than usual fucking around on his phone and he ends up there.

The announcement is simple, cute, and normally Max would just move on, he doesn't care about Josh or his life, but...

But this makes his fingers tingle with the need to text Daniel. To ask how he is, how it happened, when the last thing Max knew was that Daniel was the one in Josh's bed.

He doesn't, both because it's none of his business and because he doesn't want to open their text thread just to see the last three messages he sent gone unanswered, Daniel leaving him on read, not even congratulating him on his championship.

And even worse, the ones above that, the picture Max had sent, baring himself in every sense of the word, offering his body and heart to Daniel, just for Daniel to say no. No, it's not right. No, it's too much. No, I don't want this.

Two days later, Max had seen the pictures, sent by Gianni with a question mark, of two men kissing at a party, not blurry enough to not be recognisable, Josh's big hand cradling Daniel's jaw.

And now Josh is engaged. The hurt curdles into anger in his stomach, making him feel vaguely sick.

He had always known Josh was stupid, but now he has the proof, because who, given the chance, would choose anyone over Daniel?

Or maybe he's still fucking Daniel, behind his pretty girlfriend's back.

Or maybe with her.

Max stands up, leaving the phone on the couch, and heads straight for the sim. He had promised not to get on it for a while, to call Victoria later, to just relax for a while, but he needs to shut his brain off right now, before it veers into too dangerous thoughts and he ends up doing something embarrassing, like crying.

When he emerges, nürburgring probably forever imprinted on his retinas, the house is dark and the cats are asking for his attention, hungry and disgruntled. He stumbles to the kitchen, feeling slightly dizzy and dehydrated, blurry around the edges, but no longer on edge as before.

He feeds the cats, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, and then goes to look for his phone again, ready to face Victoria's wrath for missing their call.

He finds a bunch of notifications waiting for him, including two missed calls from Victoria, followed by several threats to his life if she finds out he was on the sim, but his eyes stop on two different messages which make the water feel like acid in his throat.

Hey Maxy, sorry I've been MIA you know how things go!

Is the offer still on the table?

[isacksteban]

Always — Lawhan

for @ellearts and not beta read at all...

Sitting in silence isn’t something new for Liam and Jack; they’ve done it plenty of times before. They don’t always need words to convey how they’re feeling — sometimes they just need each other’s company to feel better.

It feels a little different this time, though. Because Liam is in his underwear and most of his clothes are shed along with the mask he’s been wearing his entire life. There’s a lightness in him now — one that reaches down to his very bones — because he knows, finally. Or, maybe he’d known all along and had just become such an expert at hiding it from everyone else that he eventually started hiding it from himself, too. But he accepts, now.

He accepts who he is and the reason why all of his relationships have failed. He accepts that the only thing broken inside of him are the pieces of himself he’d torn apart trying to make himself belong.

And, above everything else, he accepts that this feeling he gets in his chest whenever Jack is around — whenever Liam so much as thinks about him — is love. The real, honest, life-altering kind. The kind he’s been searching for in every woman who gave him the time of day, without realizing it’s always been right by his side.

And it’s a scary thing to come to terms with, knowing it could change everything.

When Yuki is 800 miles away, and isn’t here for Liam to explain it to him. But it feels like a part of himself has slotted into place now. It turns out the piece he’d looked for in Hannah, in Andrea, and in Danielle was inside himself all along. And he knows — he knows — that this is the biggest step to healing things with himself. Because now that Liam knows, understands, and accepts himself, he feels whole enough on his own that he doesn’t feel the need to make up for his past mistakes. Liam doesn’t feel like he has to make up for the fact that he isn’t enough. Because he is.

So Liam feels like he can breathe a little bit easier now. He feels free.

But Jack feels like a different matter entirely, and not just because Liam is so in love with him that he can feel it pulsing in his veins.

He can tell that something is going on with Jack. He can feel the — not hurt, but confusion, maybe, that’s radiating off him. It feels like grasping fingers reaching out for something. It feels like maybe Jack has come here to find out what it is, exactly, that he’s reaching for.

They’ve been sitting in silence for maybe ten minutes when Jack finally breaks it.

“So, Mick broke up with me.”

Liam startles at that, his head swiveling to the left to look at Jack — to take in the expression on his face, the language of his body, the glint in his eyes. He looks…not sad, exactly, but sad-adjacent, like maybe he’s having mixed feelings about it. Liam isn’t having mixed feelings, of course. Liam’s only feeling right now is relief, and he has to swallow down the thank god that almost slips from between his lips.

“Oh. Okay. Uh, what— what happened?”

Jack sighs. “Well, he was engaged to Laila, for one.”

Liam chokes on his beer. “He was what? Engaged?”

Jack hums in confirmation, unsure what exactly to say next.

Liam doesn’t even want to touch that, honestly. He kind of feels like he’s reeling a little bit, like he’s gotten whiplash from the sudden change in direction. Because whatever he’d thought Jack was going to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I was weird about it at first, you know, because I've known him all my life and suddenly he's engaged but still wants us to fuck on the side,” Jack admits. “But… but then I talked to my dad, and I made my peace with it. Y’know?”

Liam nods his head. “Okay, so that's why you broke up with him?”

“Well, I asked him to move in with me.”

Liam almost chokes again. Because — because of course he did. That’s such a Jack thing to do.

He has a habit of trying to hold onto long-dead things because he’s scared of being left behind. He loves so big, and loud, and fast — and it’s such a beautiful thing to witness, and to be on the receiving end of — but it makes him impulsive, sometimes. Makes him dig his claws and teeth in to try and keep that love from leaving him, even when that love isn’t the good kind; even when it doesn’t come close to being enough for someone like Jack.

“And he said no, because he thinks I’d break his heart — he loves Laila. He said he’s my first, but he won’t be my last.”

Liam thinks that’s probably the smartest thing Mick has ever said.

And look, he doesn’t hate the guy — they were friends, even though that’s kind of faded since he started seeing Jack — but Liam knows, without a doubt, that Mick isn’t the right person for Jack. He’ll be the right person for someone, for Laila maybe. But not Jack, who needs affection, and attention, and reassurance. Jack, who needs to feel seen, and heard, and understood.

Mick couldn’t even call him by his name half the time, for god’s sake. He was always Doohan.

“That’s… a lot,” Liam acknowledges. “How are you feeling about it all?” he asks, because while Liam is certain this is the right thing in the long run, he doesn’t ever want Jack to be hurting.

Jack sighs. “I don’t know,” he says. “I feel… I feel like I should feel worse, if that makes sense?”

He pauses and looks to Liam, maybe to gauge his reaction. So Liam shifts in his seat, tucking one of his legs up onto the couch so he can comfortably turn and face Jack as he’s talking. Jack mirrors him, pulling his own leg up onto the couch so their knees are pressed together. Liam nods encouragingly, and Jack gives him a sweet smile before continuing.

“It sucks,” he says, “because I feel like I’m back on that goddamn hamster wheel again, just running around in circles and getting absolutely nowhere. But… but I don’t really think I’m sad about him. About Mick.”

“You’re not?” Liam pushes.

“I think, unfortunately, he was probably right,” Jack says, grimacing like it hurts him to admit it. “He was the first guy I’ve ever been with, y’know, and I’m grateful for that, but. But I was never going to fall in love with him, or anything.”

It’s probably selfish for Liam to feel relieved at the sound of that, but he can’t quite control the way he lets out a breath and his entire body relaxes.

It’s just — Jack doesn’t have to want Liam back, this isn’t about that, but. But Liam and Mick are actually kind of similar in a lot of ways — though they’re different in far more — and Liam would probably spend the rest of his life sick with envy if Mick turned out to be the one for Jack, instead of Liam. If Jack fell in love with someone who was like Liam, but not him. It might have made him crazy, actually.

“I mean, that’s good, right?” Liam asks. “It’s not like you’re losing the love of your life.”

Jack’s breath hitches, and his face falls as he says, “Like you did?”

He hadn’t planned to talk about this right now. He’d wanted to give himself time to adjust to the new label he’s assigned to himself, before sharing it with anyone else. But… but this is Jack, and Liam trusts him more than anybody else in the world. He trusts him with his life and with his vulnerability, so he knows that his heart is safe with Jack, too. Because even if Jack doesn’t want it, he would never do anything to hurt it.

So he takes a steadying breath, like he’s preparing to go into battle, then he says, “No. No, I loved Hannah; she was like my best friend. But… but she wasn’t the love of my life.”

Jack’s eyebrows pull down in confusion as he asks, “She— she wasn’t?”

Liam laughs a little, shaking his head. He gets Jack’s confusion because he was confused about it for a long time as well. But he knows that not being in love with Shannon will never take away from the fact that he did love her. She’ll always be important in Liam's life, and she’ll always hold a piece of his heart, but she wasn’t the great, big love of his life. That honor belongs to someone else.

“I, um,” Liam hesitates, glancing down for a moment at the way his bare knee is pressed against Jack’s. “I’m gay.”

He’s met with stunned silence, and the swirling anxiety in his chest forces him to look back up at Jack’s face. Jack’s mouth is parted in shock, and his blue eyes are wide and shining as he meets Liam’s gaze. For a moment, Jack is completely still, frozen by the revelation. But then, gradually, a slow, wide grin spreads across his face, and his open palm lands on Liam’s bare thigh, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, voice filled with excitement and something that sounds a lot like pride. “Oh my god, Liam. That’s… that’s incredible. I’m so happy for you.” There’s genuine joy and elation in his voice, but for Liam, it’s kind of hard to focus on anything except the warmth of Jack’s hand on his leg, the feeling grounding him, comforting him.

“Yeah?” Liam asks, his voice coming out a little breathless from both the intensity of Jack’s touch and the overwhelming relief that washes over him at seeing Jack so happy, so accepting.

Jack laughs, bright and light. “Yes, of course!” he exclaims, and then, without warning, “Come here.”

In a heartbeat, Jack is kneeling up on the couch, towering over Liam as he leans forward and throws his arms around him in a bear hug so tight and fierce that it knocks a bit of breath out of Liam. Jack’s arms wrap securely around Liam’s shoulders, and Liam’s face is pressed against Jack’s chest, where he can feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. Liam’s own hands come up to tentatively rest around Jack’s waist, and he finds himself melting into the embrace, feeling like he’s somehow found a safe haven.

Jack rests his cheek on top of Liam’s head, holding him tightly, protectively, as if he’s telling Liam through the strength of his embrace that he’s here, that he’s got him, no matter what. Liam has spent so much of his life carrying burdens, constantly bracing himself for impact, and here, in Jack’s arms, it feels like he’s allowed to let it all go, to just be, with Jack holding him together.

A laugh escapes from Liam, muffled against Jack’s chest, and Jack joins in, the sound rich and joyful as they sway slightly from the force of their shared laughter. As they pull back just a little, Jack keeps his hand nestled in the space between Liam’s shoulder and neck, his thumb tracing light, comforting patterns along the base of his neck. They’re sitting even closer than before, knees brushing, faces mere inches apart. Liam could count every one of Jack’s eyelashes if he wanted to, and the thought is surprisingly tender, making his heart beat just a little faster.

Jack’s voice is soft and a little breathless as he says, “Sorry. Sorry, I got a little carried away.”

Liam looks at him, feeling strangely open, and murmurs, “I don’t mind.” His voice comes out a bit too honest, even to his own ears, but he can’t bring himself to care. He wants Jack to know.

Jack’s eyes widen, and a faint flush of pink rises on his cheeks, a mixture of bashfulness and hope that makes him look impossibly endearing. “No?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper.

And as his gaze dips down to Liam’s lips, Liam can feel a warmth spreading through his chest, something steady and sure. “No, Jack,” he replies, his own voice soft but full of meaning. “I don’t mind. Not when it’s you.”

He feels Jack’s hand tighten on his shoulder, and he opens his mouth to say something, but the words fade as he watches Jack’s tongue swipe across his bottom lip. Liam wants to lean in and taste him — wants to get lost in everything Jack. But something holds him back, a last moment of hesitation.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “Sorry, that was too much. You’ve just brok—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

In an instant, Jack is surging forward, pulling Liam closer as he does, and then, in the blink of an eye, Jack’s lips are on his. Liam doesn’t have to wonder what Jack tastes like anymore; he just flicks his tongue out and steals a taste. When Jack moans into his mouth, Liam swallows it down, pressing closer, pushing Jack backward until there’s enough room for him to swing a leg over Jack’s thighs and settle in his lap. And when Jack’s hands splay across the curve of his ribs, Liam melts into his touch.

It’s his first time kissing a man, but Liam knows instantly that it feels right. There’s no sense of performing, no need to think about his next move, because everything flows naturally, instinctively. Every touch, every taste, every breath — they all feel like they’re exactly where they’re supposed to be.

He knows, right down to his core, that this is exactly where he belongs.

Jack’s fingers curl around Liam’s waist as he captures Liam’s bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug that makes Liam whine louder than he’d intended, his hips jerking of their own accord. Jack’s grip tightens, and he breaks their kiss only to press their foreheads together, both of them breathing hard.

“Jesus, fuck,” Jack pants, his breath hot against Liam’s lips. “Holy shit, you’re— you’re... Liam.”

“I want you,” Liam whispers, peppering tiny kisses from the corner of Jack’s mouth and all along his jaw. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Because even before Liam truly knew it, he’d wanted Jack. Liam’s soul has been reaching out to Jack’s from the very beginning. And he might have spent too many years ignoring the universe’s call, but he won’t turn away from it a single second longer.

“I want you, too,” Jack murmurs, voice rough and filled with emotion. “Always, Liam. Always you.”

As those words sink in — as they seep into Liam’s blood and saturate his bones — it feels like they are rewriting his very DNA. It’s as if loving Jack, and being loved by him, is reshaping the core of who Liam is. For the first time, he finally feels like someone he recognizes.

And maybe it should feel too fast, this thing between them that’s burning, growing, ravaging him from the inside out. Maybe Liam should want to slow it down, take a moment to breathe, let his mind catch up with his body — with his heart. But he’s tried fast with Hannah, and slow with Andrea and Danielle, and none of those things had worked out because they weren’t this. They weren’t a man.

They weren’t Jack, with his big, calloused hands, warm and steady against Liam’s waist as he pulls him closer. They weren’t Jack, who’s leaning down to bite, to suck, to leave marks that Liam wants to wear forever.

He doesn’t want to stop; he doesn’t even want to slow down. He wants this, here, for the rest of his life. He’s past wondering if he deserves it, past questioning if he’s good enough for someone like Jack, past being afraid of the depth of love he feels. He wants Jack selfishly, wants him greedily, and if Jack is willing to give himself over, then Liam isn’t selfless enough to say no. He isn’t strong enough to deny himself this kind of joy.

“Need you,” Liam whispers, almost begging. “Please, Jack. Please.”

He tilts his head, exposing his neck for Jack’s lips and teeth and tongue to explore, leaving a trail down to his collarbone. Jack sucks the skin into his mouth, biting in a way that makes Liam shiver, moan, and grind against Jack’s hardening length.

He feels frantic, desperate, like he might fall apart if Jack doesn’t do something soon.

“What do you need?” Jack murmurs. “Tell me what you need, Li.”

“You,” Liam answers, barely able to hold back. “I need you. Just you.”

Jack tips his head back, resting it on the couch, eyes squeezed shut. The smile on his face, the blush creeping up his cheeks — it’s enough to drive Liam wild, and he has to swallow down a whine at the sight of him.

“You’re killing me,” Jack pants, and Liam laughs softly.

“Well, we don’t want that,” he teases.

But then Jack is helping Liam off his lap and jumping to his feet, and they’re standing so close that their chests brush together with every breath. Liam can’t resist leaning forward to steal another kiss from Jack. It’s all tongue, teeth, and wandering hands, and Liam’s entire body feels like jelly in Jack’s hands — soft, malleable, ready to bend to Jack’s will.

“Jack,” Liam whines again, his hands tugging at Jack’s hair.

“Bedroom?” Jack murmurs against Liam’s mouth.

Liam nods so quickly their noses bump together, and they both break into laughter. Jack pulls back to press a kiss to the tip of Liam’s nose — it’s soft and silly, and Liam has never had this before. He’s never been able to laugh like this with someone, always feeling like he needed to be on, so focused on doing the right things that he forgot to enjoy himself. But with Jack… with Jack, he thinks it might actually be fun.

“Bedroom,” he agrees, and Jack’s eyes darken with heat.

“Let’s go.”

Liam untangles his hands from Jack’s hair and instead grabs hold of his wrist. He tugs him out of the living room and down the hall, glancing back every few seconds like he’s afraid Jack will suddenly disappear. But each time he looks back, he finds Jack’s eyes on him — watching the back of his head, the stretch of his shoulders in his old alpha tauri, the ripple of his bare thighs with every step he takes.

It makes Liam feel wanted. Makes him feel desired.

As they reach Liam’s bedroom door, Jack tugs his hand back until Liam turns around to face him. Then, with one hand on Liam’s hip and the other on the door, he gently nudges Liam backward into the room.

Once he’s shut the door, Jack leans back against it, taking a moment to just look. His eyes roam slowly, lingering, unhurried as they travel over Liam, and Liam feels like a work of art being admired. He feels like something beautiful to look at and savor, even in his wrinkled shirt and boxer-briefs. The look makes his blood fizz, and he steps toward Jack with his hands outstretched, stopping only when his fingertips press into Jack’s stomach.

Liam drops to the floor between Jack’s feet, and the feeling that washes over him as he looks up… it’s like he’s kneeling at the altar of a god of his own making. But Jack looks down at him like he’s the one doing the worshipping. Like Liam is the one who’s holy. Jack places a gentle hand on Liam’s jaw, caressing his cheek with his thumb, then brushes it over the smooth space above Liam’s top lip, taking in every inch of his skin he hadn't before.

“I missed your face,” Jack says easily, as if those words don’t slide down Liam’s spine and settle in his stomach like molten lava.

Then Jack’s thumb continues to trace Liam’s face until it reaches his lips. Liam’s mouth drops open involuntarily, and he doesn’t miss the spark in Jack’s eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Jack whispers, slipping his thumb into Liam’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue as he sucks. “So fucking beautiful.”

Liam trembles, his body and mind feeling as if they’re floating — like he’s here but not fully, watching this happen to a better man than him. But then Jack is sliding his thumb out, dragging it down so Liam’s saliva spreads across his chin and cools against his skin. Then Jack holds Liam’s face in one hand, tilting it up so Liam is looking directly into his eyes.

Liam feels so desperate for him that he can’t help himself. He raises his hands, curls them around the back of Jack’s thighs, and leans forward, mouthing against the outline of Jack’s hard length. Maybe he should feel nervous — maybe a perfectionist like Liam should worry about getting it right for his first time — but the shudder that runs through Jack’s body is enough to ease any of those concerns.

“Fuck, Liam,” Jack groans, his hand moving to the back of Liam’s head to tug on his hair.

“Can I?” Liam asks.

“Yes, baby. Of course.”

The word baby drips over him like honey, and his hands tremble as he undoes Jack’s button and zip, pulling his jeans and briefs over his hips and down his thighs. Jack steps out of them, and Liam helps him remove his socks, and then… he’s confronted with the sight of Jack’s cock, hard and flushed, glistening at the tip, like he’s just as desperate for this as Liam is. It’s the first time he’s ever been this close to one that isn’t his own, and the surge of desire that rushes through him almost takes him by surprise. Almost… but this is Jack, after all. It should never be a surprise to Liam just how much he craves him.

So Liam leans forward, his tongue slipping out to steal a taste of Jack. He curls it as he licks at him, and when Jack’s hand tightens in his hair, he takes it as his cue to close his mouth around the tip. Jack feels soft and silky on Liam’s tongue, and though the taste is a little bitter, Liam finds himself wanting more. And when Jack shudders, groaning and moaning Liam’s name like a prayer, Liam lets every thought leave his head except for how good this feels and how hard he already is.

“Liam, fuck,” Jack moans. “Holy shit, sweetheart. You’re so good. So good for me.”

The words make Liam feel light-headed, a tremor rippling through his body as he palms himself through his briefs. He’s never been praised during sex before — never been told he’s good — and he hadn’t even considered that it might be something he’s into, until he hears those words on Jack’s lips. Suddenly, he wants to hear it again and again, wants to earn it by making Jack feel good.

But as he takes Jack deeper — as far as his throat will let him — Jack gently guides Liam off him. Before Liam even has a chance to worry he’s doing something wrong, Jack is pulling him up to his feet and pressing their mouths together, groaning as he tastes himself on Liam’s lips. Liam melts into Jack, sinking into his chest as Jack holds him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

“You’re too good at that,” Jack murmurs against his lips, making Liam laugh.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack confirms. “But now it’s my turn.”

He maneuvers Liam toward the bed, then pushes on his shoulders until he’s sitting on the edge. Taking Liam’s face between his hands, Jack kisses him once, twice, three more times, before his hands drift down to the collar of Liam’s shirt. He tugs on it, raising a single, questioning eyebrow, but Liam just shrugs and grins at him. Then Jack’s steady, practiced hands begin to unfasten each of Liam’s buttons one by one, and it probably shouldn’t feel so intense, but with Jack, it feels borderline erotic.

He slips the shirt off Jack’s shoulders and tosses it onto the floor, then he strips off his own t-shirt and throws it there, too. And suddenly Liam is looking at all of Jack — at the tan evenly spread across his skin, and the rosy pink of his nipples. The soft curves of his belly, and the length of his cock that is still slick with Liam’s spit. He’s a fucking work of art, and it blows Liam’s mind a little to realise that a man as glorious as Jack could ever want him back. But then he’s placing his hand in the centre of Liam’s chest and pushing him backwards, and as Liam slides up the bed so he’s resting on the pillows, Jack climbs in between his open legs.

He presses a kiss to both of Liam’s ankles as he pulls off his socks, then a kiss to both of his knees. When his mouth makes it to Liam’s thighs, he bites and sucks like he’s trying to leave his mark behind — like he’s trying to stake his claim. It feels heady, and possessive, and Liam’s heart thunders dangerously fast inside his chest.

“Please,” he whimpers. “Jack… please.”

“What do you want, Liam?” He asks, his mouth so close to Liam’s cock that he can feel his breath on it. “You only have to ask.”

“Suck me,” he begs. “I need your mouth.”

It’s hot as it closes over his clothed dick, and Liam would feel ashamed of the whimper that bursts out of him if this was with anyone else. Then again, he doubts anyone else could ever make him feel like this — could make him let go so completely and give up all of his control. Jack is special, though. And here in this room, with Jack between his legs, there’s no shame or embarrassment or worry. There’s just love. So much of it that Liam can taste it with every breath that he breathes.

He gasps when Jack’s fingertips dig into his hipbones, curling beneath the waistband of his briefs so he can tug them down. Liam lifts his hips to make it easier for Jack, but he whines when the action makes him press himself against Jack’s open mouth. Jack chuckles at the sound, and at the tremor that ripples through Liam’s body. The smile he gives him — all teeth, with bright eyes and flushed cheeks and a kissed-pink mouth — is absolutely devastating.

Liam can’t stop himself from reaching down, scratching his fingers into Jack’s hair and swiping his thumb down the side of Jack’s cheek. Jack turns to press a kiss to the palm of Liam’s hand.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Jack says.

And then he closes his mouth around Liam’s bare cock, and Liam sees stars.

It feels like champagne bubbles beneath the surface of his skin, and popping candy beneath his ribs. It feels bigger, better, more, than anything has ever felt before. Liam feels alive, and breathless, and he’s never wanted anybody the way that he wants Jack. It surpasses want and burrows right into need — into a desperate, aching compulsion. And I love you is on the very tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down and instead says “More. I need more, Jack. Please.”

“So polite,” Jack teases him, as he presses a delicate kiss to the very bottom of his stomach. “Use your words and tell me what you need, Li.”

Liam almost wants to cry. As someone who’s spent his whole life ignoring his own wants and needs, to ask for something now feels almost impossible.Though, as he catches Jack’s eyes and sees the shine in them, he thinks maybe that’s exactly why Jack is doing this: he’s teaching him to want. He’s teaching him that it’s okay.

“Whatever you want, baby, I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you inside me,” Liam whispers.

He feels his cheeks flaming with colour, because to be caught in the act of wanting has always felt so embarrassing to him. But then a smile spreads across Jack’s face, and he says, “Good job, baby,” and Liam simply melts.

Jack moves so he’s hovering over Liam, and he leans down to kiss and kiss and kiss him, as he roots around in the drawer of his bedside table for…he leans back, and holds up a bottle of lube. Liam feels his cheeks heat again, and he bites his lip, but he refuses to look away from Jack.

“Are you sure?” Jack asks.

“I need you,” Liam says. “I want you.”

He wants more. Wants to be as close to Jack as he possibly can be. He’s spent years wanting to climb into Jack’s skin and burrow beneath his ribs — years wanting to merge their bodies together, like their souls already are, long before he even knew what that really meant. And he doesn’t want to wait. Not because they’re in any rush…not because he’s worried he might not get another chance at this. But because he knows, as certainly as he’s ever known anything, that this is it for him.

Jack is the only person he’ll ever love like this, and he doesn’t want to waste any more time being afraid of wanting things. Especially not when Jack is giving him permission to.

Jack sucks Liam back into his mouth, and Liam gets lost in the pleasure of it — in the slick, wet heat, and the knowledge that this is Jack making him feel so good. He flinches a little when he feels the cool lube against his skin, but as Jack begins to gently rub at his hole, Liam groans and pushes back against him.

“Greedy,” Jack taunts him, and Liam whines.

But he gives Liam what he’s asking for anyway.

“Relax for me, Li,” Jack murmurs, his lips still brushing against Liam’s cock. “You can take it.”

Jack’s words, and his sickly sweet voice, and the feeling of electricity coursing through Liam’s veins is almost too much to handle. And then Jack’s finger presses inside of him, and the slight burn — the stretch as Liam’s body adjusts — is absolutely wonderful. The moans that pour out of him are filthy, and debauched, and he’s acutely aware that he’s never felt this good in his entire life.

Jack works him open slowly and gently, his lips and tongue and mouth still working over his dick as Liam loosens around his finger. Then, as Jack slips a second finger into him, he begins to make his way up Liam’s body. He kisses along Liam’s stomach, sucking hickies into the divots of his abs. When his mouth closes around Liam’s nipple, and then his other one, Liam feels like his soul is ascending and leaving his body behind.

The sensations are all so much — Jack’s fingers inside him, and his grip on Liam’s hip, and his mouth suckling at Liam’s nipples. Liam’s body doesn’t feel like his anymore, it feels like Jack’s. And he knows it’s never been in better hands.

He should have known Jack would be like this — should have known he would give, and give, and give, even here in the bedroom. But it still takes Liam a little bit by surprise; it still steals his breath how thoroughly Jack dedicates himself to taking Liam apart. Because that’s what this feels like — like Liam is being unstitched at the seams, like he’s being unravelled by Jack’s gentle touch before he slowly puts him back together again, even better than he was before.

By the time Jack has kissed his way up Liam’s throat and is feeding him his tongue, he’s pushing a third finger inside of him. Liam whimpers, and trembles, and he bites on Jack’s lip as the stretch makes all of his nerve-endings feel like they’ve been set ablaze. He arches his chest into Jack’s, wanting to be touching him everywhere possible, and Jack — reading his mind like he always does — lowers his weight onto Liam and presses him down into the mattress.

Jack’s fingers curl inside of him and Liam cries out as they find that spot that’s never been touched before. It feels like lightning. Feels like heaven, and hell, and sin. Feels holy.

“Oh,” Jack says with a grin, then does it again. Liam gasps, one hand gripping Jack’s bicep and the other the back of his neck. “There it is. Does that feel good sweetheart?”

Liam nods. “Yes, yes Jack, please. More. I need more,” he pants. “I need you. You feel so good, baby.”

“You want me inside you?”

“Yes.”

“In here?” Jack asks, curling his fingers again until Liam is writhing and his cock is smearing precum between their stomachs.

“Yes,” Liam whimpers through gritted teeth.

“Anything for you, Liam,” Jack promises.

As he kisses Liam again, slow and sweet, and so deep Liam feels it right down to the marrow of his bones, he searches in the bedside drawer once again. But when he pulls out a condom and holds it up to show Liam, Liam takes it from between his fingers and tosses it on the floor.

“No,” he says. “I wanna feel you. Jus' you, if.. if you’re—”

“I’m clean,” Jack promises. “Are you sure?”

And Liam has never been more sure of anything in his life. So he nods his head, and pulls Jack back down to kiss him, and he rocks his hips up into Jack’s so their cocks glide together. He groans when Jack slides his fingers out of Liam’s hole, and the loss almost feels like too much — he grips Jack tighter, pulls him closer, kisses him harder, but Jack just chuckles. He slows down the kiss until it’s languid, and tender, and Liam is shaking from the gentleness of it.

Then Jack’s hands are wrapping around Liam’s thighs and pushing them back, kissing the mole on the back of his leg. And Liam feels vulnerable and exposed in a way that’s entirely new to him. But Jack looks down greedily at the scene Liam is presenting him, and he groans at the sight of it. He hooks the tip of his thumb into Liam’s hole, and Liam gasps.

“I’m tasting you here later, okay?” Jack says, and Liam almost blacks out at the thought of it.

“Okay,” Liam agrees breathlessly.

“Are you ready?” Jack asks, looking Liam right in the eyes. “We can stop at any time, okay? All you have to do is-”

“-fuck me,” Liam begs. “Jack, please. I need you inside me.”

The first press of Jack’s dick against Liam’s hole feels like the first hit of morphine when you’re in pain — it soothes an ache inside of Liam that’s been hurting him for as long as he can remember. Jack kisses him through it, as Liam’s body stretches to accommodate Jack’s, and it suddenly dawns on him that he can taste himself on Jack’s tongue. It’s dirty, and heady, and it makes his cock twitch in the space between their bodies.

Jack pulls back and looks down to watch as he slides home inside of Liam, and when he’s finally all the way in — when he’s burrowed so deep inside of Liam that he can feel him in his heart — he looks back up to him and smiles. Big, and bright, and fucking earth-shattering.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jack whispers. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He lets his fingers trace Liam’s blush from his cheeks, down his throat, all the way to the centre of his chest, and then stops right over his beating heart. He presses a kiss there, and then he looks back up to Liam and says, “Are you ready?”

“Move,” Liam all but begs. “Fuck me, Jack. I need you to.”

And the thing about Jack, is that he’s never denied Liam anything. He would give him anything — everything — that he asked for and not even think twice about it, and that’s been the case for as long as they’ve known each other. So when Liam pleads for Jack to fuck him, he gives him exactly what he asks for.

He pulls out slowly, watching Liam’s face for any sign that he’s in pain, and when he finds none — when he finds only pleasure there — he rocks back into him.

Liam gasps at the intrusion, and he tangles his fingers into Jack’s hair and pulls him down. He doesn’t kiss him though, he just rests their foreheads together and breathes in Jack’s air as he begins to build a slow, steady rhythm. It’s addictive, the way the heat burns low and slow in the pit of his stomach. The sensations build and build as Jack fucks into him, until Liam is shaking and whining and desperate for more.

“Harder,” Liam demands. “Harder, Jack. I need it.”

“Yeah?” Jack asks. “You need more, baby?”

“Please,” Liam says, like it’s the only word he can seem to remember. “Please.”

His hands trail down Jack’s back, nails digging in and scratching until Jack gasps and fucks into him harder. Then he’s reaching back to snatch Liam’s hands away, lacing their fingers together and slamming them down onto the mattress. He slides their joined hands under the pillow beneath Liam’s head, and orders “keep them there.”

The command — the show of dominance — has Liam melting beneath him, and when Jack’s hand comes to rest at the base of Liam’s throat, he whines and arches up into him. He wants to reach for Jack, but he wants to be good — wants to do what Jack told him to. So he grasps at the pillow as Jack starts to fuck him in the way he’s been begging for. Not fast, still so slow that the pleasure in Liam’s body builds agonisingly. But Jack is thrusting into him so hard that the headboard starts to rattle, and Liam’s body begins to sing.

And while one of Jack’s hands remains at the base of his throat — not squeezing, just holding him there like he owns him — he reaches the other one up and he curls it around the top of Liam’s head so he doesn’t bang it against the headboard.

It’s ridiculous, and it’s embarrassing, but the gesture is so sweet and caring and intimate, that tears begin to blur his vision. He has to squeeze his eyes shut so Jack doesn’t see them and worry — so he doesn’t stop. But Jack clearly doesn’t want him to look away, because he tuts under his breath and bites gently at the curve of Liam’s jaw.

“Give me those eyes, sweetheart,” Jack commands, and Liam is helpless to do anything but obey.

As he opens his eyes the tears he’d been trying to hide leak out, dripping from the corner and sliding down the sides of his face. Liam’s breath hitches, and he whimpers at the look in Jack’s eyes when he sees that Liam is crying. A flash of concern passes over his face, and his hips stutter like he’s about to stop, so Liam wraps his legs around Jack’s waist and squeezes his thighs.

“Don’t stop,” he begs. “I’ll die. I’ll die if you stop.”

The dramatics would probably be humiliating if Liam stopped to think about the words spilling out of his mouth. But he’s so overwhelmed with pleasure that all he can think about is keeping Jack inside of him — is never letting him go.

And then Jack is leaning forwards and capturing Liam’s mouth in a kiss that absolutely wrecks him. He whispers, “You’re so good, baby. Taking it so well for me,” and Liam writhes, and cries, and surrenders his body, and mind, and his heart to Jack.

“Jack,” Liam whimpers, desperate and frantic. He’s not sure what he’s asking for — not sure what he needs — but he knows that Jack will find a way to give it to him anyway.

“I’ve got you, Liam,” Jack promises. “I’ll take care of you. You’re doing so good, baby. So perfect for me.”

The hand on his throat tightens just a little, and Jack pegs his prostate, and then Liam is cumming — completely untouched, with a silent gasp on his lips as he trembles through his release. And as his body shakes, and he tightens around Jack, he feels Jack cumming too… feels him fill Liam in a way that makes him feel more whole than he’s ever done in his life.

More tears slip from his eyes, and then Jack is leaning down to kiss them away, and it’s so sweet that Liam needs to hold him. He moves his hands from where Jack had placed them beneath the pillow, and he winds them around Jack. With his legs still wrapped around his back he tugs, and Jack lets out a soft laugh as he lets his weight fall onto Liam.

“That was…” Liam pants, trailing off because he can’t quite find the words to describe it.

“Yeah, yeah it was,” Jack agrees. “You were perfect, Liam.”

Liam snatches a kiss and says, “So were you. Thank you.” The smile Jack gives him in return is a thing of absolute beauty.

Jack is slow and careful as he pulls his softening cock out of Liam, and then he flops down beside him. Liam hadn’t wanted them to separate — had wanted to keep Jack inside of him forever — but Jack doesn’t pull away. He leans on his elbow and slips his free hand between Liam’s legs, using his fingers to push his cum back inside of Liam in a move that feels so filthy - so territorial — that Liam throws his head back and groans.

Jack leans down and kisses Liam’s exposed throat, biting at the underside of his jaw, until his lips press against Liam’s again, and again, and again.

“Jack, I…”

He reaches his hand up and tugs on the sweat-slick curl that falls down over Jack’s forehead, making Jack laugh and pretend to bite at Liam’s fingers as he pulls away. Liam laughs too, loud and carefree and easy.

“I love you, Jack,” Liam confesses.

“I love you, too.”

And Liam still isn’t quite ready to believe that he deserves this, but he’s going to take it anyway. He’s going to grasp it between both hands and never let it go. Because even if Liam doesn’t think he’s worthy of him, Jack clearly seems to think that he is, and there’s nobody in this world that he trusts more than Jack.

“You’re my last,” Jack says. “You’re my always.”

And Liam likes the sound of that.

[tricewithaz]

THOTS ON SHADOW AND BONE

Hello everyone! it is I, Trice, and i come with my thoughts on the Shadow and Bone show cause ive got many

I'm gonna divide this in what i liked, what i disliked, and what i think could have been better but didn't really bother me. Feel free to send your opinions too!

As a whole, I really liked the show and I think it's a great adaptation that both fans and newcomers will enjoy. It's super well done! and every episode had me glued to the tv even though I knew what was going to happen.

Beware this is long

To start,

What i liked

Mal and Alina

I never really liked Mal in the books, mainly cause he had like, nothing going on for him, and not having his pov made him no favors whatsoever. Alina's perception of him was everychanging, two factors that didn't make him unlikeable necessarily, but that made me not want to read about him. In the show he's way more likeable and even though he still doesn't have a lot going on for him, you can see that he's always trying to protect alina, and you also see a bit of his demeanor through Archie's acting. I think he made a great job at portraying him. And Alina! Alina who in the books was essentially a y/n sort of character (although she did get better over time), her character, likes, dislikes, her DRIVE was incredibly portrayed in the show. Also Jessie (loml, marry me) and Archie have incredible chemistry together and they sold their yearning SO WELL (and so did the kid actors portraying them as children oh my GOD)...yall...i cried when they held hands. My favourite scene was definitely when Alina took care of Mal's wounds (a favorite trope of mine). And the HURT in their eyes whenever they thought the other was in danger....i saw the show dubbed but I'm sure their voices made it beyond incredible as well, their face acting was just on. point. Overall the show rEALLY makes me root for them both individually and together which is something the books didn't manage to do.

The Darkling

AAAAA i really enjoyed the Darkling omg, incredible charisma, Ben does such a great job (and so did his voice actor in Spanish oh my GOD). His acting was just as I imagined it in the books and i loved how he could be as sweet and mysterious as he could be menacing. In fact! i liked him more than i did in the book, and i think it was a great choice to make him more human. I'm not sure if this was Ben or the writing, but i could really see his yearning for an equal, for Alina, his loneliness and his thirst for power and control too. Great love interest, even greater villain. And his wardrobe was phenomenal. I also really liked how they implied that The Darkling was a name given by other people, it was very believable that people would call someone who literally controls shade something akin to "son of the dark" or something of the sort, instead of it being a name he gives himself or his job title (both if which are incredibly pathetic and cringy to think about).

Jesper

No comments. He was just great. I love Kit.

Nina

Omg Danielle did SUCH a great job at portraying Nina, it's exactly how i imagined her in Six of Crows.

Helnik

THE. YEARNING. THE. CHEMISTRY. I didn't love their scenes at the boat but once that was over I was practically screaming at the screen to jUST KISS ALREADY. Calahan and Daniell have such good chemistry together and the few changes they made only served the story better. I did wish they had development over more time cause Matthias' change of mind felt too quick, but i get why they had to rush. Because of how good their chemistry was, their fallout also was incredibly painful.

Inej's fear of the Menagerie and her morals

Amita's portrayal of Inej's hurt, devotion and her refusal to kill (and later hurt cause she has killed) is incredibly subtle but so SO effective. She's so talented really and truly sold Inej's feelings throughout the show.

VFX

Man.....the fold, the volcra, the grisha powers.....kudos to the animators and overall artistic team cause they were incredible. Also seeing the different title animations in each episode was such a tiny detail that made me so excited and they all looked so good.

Ketterdam

Again, kudos to the artistic team, everything about Ketterdam felt so alive (and weirdly moist), truly sold a kind of aesthetic and life that is so characteristic if the Barrel, even when i didn't imagine it that way in the books.

David

He appeared like, twice, and both times were so cute and charming I can't wait to see more of him both on his own and with Genya.

The Wardrobe

So, at first i hated the keftas. I thought the looked tacky and costume, but when you see them on screen they're just perfect (although i have to say the patterns on some of the keftas were kind of...cheap looking? and the training keftas were just kinda boring. My favourite was the Darkling's. Aside from that, i really liked Kaz's and inej's clothes too. Very distinctive and recognizable (although it was kind of weird seeing Inej in teal instead of purple lmao).

And the queen's dresses. Chefs kiss.

It's...so cheesy (affectionate)

The whole show felt like the kind of movies I would watch as a kid like Harry Potter and Pirates of the Caribbean. The writing was stylized enough to make it incredibly dramatic and overall there was just so much heart behind all of it. Definetely a show to watch again and again and feel all of it, cause that's what it being so cheesy managed, to make me actually feel for it. It feels like something to watch on a rainy afternoon after a bad day....it's great okay i really enjoyed it, even (specially) the most unbelievable parts of it. And here's the thing, it's something that i think a lot of newer tv and film have lost, so this is good.

What i didn't like

Zoya

Mostly cause of the writing. Originally, in the first book, i didn't like her, neither as a character (stereotypical mean girl with no other motivation than to bang the love interests....all three of them....what's new i still think it's an incredibly sexist trope) or a person (hey at least this was intentional), but over time i grew to LOVE her (mean girl turns out to have a good heart and actually respects the mc and decides to fight alongside her cause it's what's right, without necessarily liking her or giving up her character??? AND she has strong motivations??? now THAT'S new). In the show, i hoped they would keep her mean girl nature while foreshadowing her depth, but all they did was turn her into a petty seductress with barely any screentime, and that only makes her not even a bad antagonist but just a boring character to watch. Not only that but they took away a big part of her character that needed to be developed in the next books. I wanted to watch her rivalry with Alina, her unjustified venomous tongue too, I wanted to be entertained by her and I wasn't. This was also a problem cause when she finally changed teams, and when she hugged Alina, it was incredibly unsatisfying, it would have had a way stronger effect if we had seen her being Ruthless Zoya with a big ambition. I also didn't like how we were told that she didn't like alina, or that she had a family, instead of it being shown on screen. Just from the show, all i can tell you about her is that she likes to bang people and she has a good moral code i guess. Yall, I'm so petty about this.

Kaz

So, I didn't hate him, in fact i think I would have enjoyed him if I hadn't read the books first, cause the two things that bother me about him were two essential characteristics of him in the books. FIrstly, he seems so strained, instead of the seemingly laid back, almost chill looking (even though we know he's not chill at all) Kaz we see in the books, the Kaz that always knows something that you don't. Show Kaz doesn't seem to always be in control, to always have the last word, the last laugh. Instead he seems strained, all the damn time. And I think this is mainly a writing and directing issue. And he also seems weak, something Book Kaz would never do. This is also an issue cause because he doesn't have the same presence he has in the books, the times where he is weak, don't seem as effective. Sure, Pekka Rollins has essentially reduced him and humiliated him, but I haven't seen enough of Kaz being actually dangerous for this to be shocking and for Pekka to seem even more hateable (and, i really liked Pekka, loved him as an antagonist more than i did in the books). Idk, Kaz was so charismatic and just fun and engaging to read in the books that his portrayal in the show felt lacking.

Alina's power's VFX

The little suns were cute and all but the light coming from within her was just ugly I'm sorry.

SFX

A lot of the sound design was just too stylized for the tone of the show i think. I particularly remember the sound of Mal's punches....what's that about.

What i think could have been better, but didn't particularly dislike

The Crows' storyline

And i think part of this is a consequence of Kaz not being as witty as he was in the books. Where's the incredibly complicated heist moves? the even more unbelievable C and D plans when something goes wrong? I didn't like that them getting Alina was essentially just luck, cause i didn't see enough of them being smart and quick on their feet. I also think it was unnecessary to have their storyline mixed with Alina's, i would have enjoyed watching a different heist, maybe in Ravka as well, and them incidentally crossing paths with Alina, more than i liked this storyline. ironically enough, the heist was the part i was least interested in

Genya and Alina

I just feel like her relationship with Alina wasn't strong enough, and i think it's because the show tried to make us believe they were much closer than they were without spending the necessary time in them.

Overall, I really really enjoyed the show, i will be watching it again (particularly cause i want to watch it in English) and i cannot wait for the second season omg (although i have to say, I'm scared for Nikolai)

I think that's all! I would also love to read yall's opinions and have a conversation.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 12

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, anxiety 

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N stood in her bedroom considering Daniel’s words. Clueless. God, the word itself stung coming from someone she had grown to see as a big brother. Clueless. Well, sure, she did not exactly know what happened behind closed doors with both the Stan family and Forrest family business but neither did Daniel, or at least as well as he bragged to know. She had heard both families were cruel but in all honesty, she just couldn’t imagine any of the heads of both families being those monsters people spoke of. She specially could not imagine Sebastian to be the monster Dan wanted to paint him, no. He had kind eyes, he didn’t have the type of darkness that she had seen in various other lesser associates, he had peaceful ones like the sea after a storm. Besides, Y/N liked to consider herself a good judge of character so maybe Dan was just being overprotective.

Annoyed, she huffed, turning on her side with her phone on her hand as she searched for the contact she wanted to call. She took her phone up to her ear, hearing the dialling tone for what felt for ages until the familiar operator voice came through. The number you have dialled is unavailable, please leave your message at the sound of the tone.

     - Hi Sebastian, it’s Y/N. I just ... I just wanted to check on you, to see if you’re alright. Give me a call when you can. Okay ... bye. 

She sighed, throwing her phone to the side table before getting under her duvet, her mind finally getting time to wrap around what had happened days prior. Why didn’t she feel guilty she had kissed a very engaged man? She always thought that cheating was a terrible thing to do to someone yet right now all she could think about was that maybe ... maybe she would be able to do it again. It wasn’t right but he was just so electric, magnetic even and his words echoed in her mind like a drum ... I’m here for you, no one can harm you. 

Sure, she had protection at most times considering Elias and Christian, whenever not in Gwen’s bedroom, were constantly around ensuring that no one got in or out of the house without permission or reason to do. However, protection from Sebastian sounded ... sweeter, warmer even. No man had ever told her they were there for her, much less they would fight their own wife for her (this mostly due to her preference at avoiding married men). It was unfair, very unfair that the very first time she felt seen and protected ... maybe even fully appreciated was by someone she just couldn’t have.

As her mind raced through various excuses as to why she kissed the mob boss, the sleepless nights caught up to her and soon she found herself surrounded by the familiar darkness of slumber. She woke up once again with the sun beams cutting through her window and decided that maybe right now what she needed was a good amount of food.

Going down the stairs, the familiar sight of Amelia in the kitchen preparing a fresh brew of coffee made her sleepily smile. This was the normality and home life she needed after all of Paris’ events. 

    - Good morning, Miss Y/N. How was Paris? - she turned on the kettle at the sight of the handmaid to prepare her favourite infusion. 

    - Paris was lovely. - she smiled softly, not pulling too much at the skin of her cheeks as she sat on the high chairs. - Do you think I could have some grilled cheese this morning?

   - You can have whatever you want, Miss Y/N. It is always a pleasure to cook for you. - Y/N couldn’t help but smile wider at that statement. It felt nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t about to married to a mob boss, a mob boss, associates or bodyguards. - You look different.

    - How so? - she raised an eyebrow at the statement. Oh god, had Gwen discovered she kissed her husband to be and cut her hair in disdain? 

    - I don’t know ... there’s a spring in your step, you look very happy. Might there be someone in Paris? - yeah, sure, he is in Paris, he’s just not her someone, he’s Gwen’s. - Maybe it’s the European air.

   - Maybe ... You wouldn’t know when Mr. Stan is coming back, would you?

   - I don’t know, Miss. Mr. Stan shows up when he wants, never leaves a message, he’s just like his father in that sense. 

   - Did you know his father? - Y/N had never actually known his father but from what she heard from Gwen he was a tall, stern man who managed to put fear and respect in everyone’s hearts without giving it much of a try.

   - Just between us both Miss Y/N, I am very glad he only resembles his father in that sense. No man should be that comfortable with death and power and not fear it all the time. - she shrugged, flipping the sandwich on the skillet. - If I must say, I think Mr. Stan is much more like his mother. I’ve always said this house needed another kind woman after she left. 

   - I just can’t picture it. - Y/N didn’t exactly knew who Sebastian’s mother was. In all honesty, not a lot of people knew and Sebastian wasn’t one for big speeches about his family. However, she had always pictured him as being much more like his father, a powerful man. - He doesn’t really talk about his family. 

   - What about you, Miss Y/N? What about your parents?

   - Oh ... - she toyed with the chain of her necklace, slightly bitting her lip. - I don’t really know. Mr. Forrest told me my father was one of his workers, never told me much about my mother either. They died shortly after I was born. 

   - I’m very sorry, Miss Y/N. - Amelia slid her the grilled cheese on a nice porcelain plate. - I’m sure that they would be very proud of creating such a nice, beautiful lady. 

   - Thank you, Amelia. 

   - Oh ... good morning, Mr. Daniel. - she pipped up and Y/N rolled her eyes, not in the mood to speak with Daniel after last night’s events. He, however, had other plans as he sat right next to her. 

   - Good morning, Y/N. 

   - Good morning, Daniel. - she slid away from him. 

   - Oh c’mon, you’re not gonna sulk at me are you? - he poked her arm with one of the forks that had been laid out to him. - You know I’m sorry.  

    - You’re always sorry but you never actually say it. - Y/N huffed, grabbing her plate from the table and walking up to the sink. Dan sighed, knowing that, despite her being generally a kind and forgiving woman, whenever she was upset, she just remained upset for a while before forgetting it. However, this could take ages. 

Y/N decided she was still not ready to deal with Daniel or any of his opinions towards her view of the people she surrounded herself with. In all honesty, she had no time to worry about him or what he thought of her as her mind was filled with worry towards Sebastian. She knew he was notoriously hard to harm or even shot at however she hadn’t gotten a reply to her call and knew nothing of when he was about to return.

The days passed by and Daniel had managed to somehow get Y/N to get less mad at him by taking her to see his daughter. Sophie had been born while he was at university and Y/N had grown very attached to the little girl as she had been at home with Gwen when she was born. However, not even young Sophie could take her mind away from Sebastian. Her brain had quit making her feel guilty about the fact she had kissed the man who was to marry the only friend she ever knew and had instead turned all its efforts into making her picture all the horrific things that could happen to him. She knew it was reckless and pointless to worry about him, he clearly seemed to be invisible at what he did and part of her pitied the poor unfortunate souls who had dared to shot at him. 

Those days turned into weeks and as the third week hit mark, she was absolutely unconsolable. Gwen was not much help. In actuality, the heiress was rather happy that her fiancé wasn’t around as this gave her plenty of free time to do what she wanted with her newly found interest in her private bodyguard, Christian. Meanwhile, Y/N had taken to spending her days in the kitchen with Amelia and in the library, but not even that could take her mind off if he was alright despite Amelia and Elias constantly telling her it was normal of Sebastian to disappear and then suddenly return. 

Nevertheless, Y/N was anxious about his fate, spending most of the night sat by the window, listening as the rain fell down on the bright city that never slept. This was one of those nights where her fingers lingered on the fogged rainy windows, lightly doodling. This quickly grew tired-some and, wrapped around in one of the very expensive white cashmere blankets Sebastian had placed around the house, she went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mindlessly, like a movement so familiar it didn’t need her attention, Y/N put some almond milk, cinnamon and honey in a pot and brought it up to the heat before taking to slowly mix it with a wooden spoon.

The sound of the bubbling milk and rain was enough to make her feel like every corner of the world was home and as she poured the mixture into a mug, she softly smiled at the overview of New York from the countless amount of ceiling length windows. It almost made her forget her worries. Almost. The heart warming atmosphere was interrupted by the ring of the lift that gave way into the entrance of the penthouse. Y/N turned around abruptly, the sight bringing a sparkle to her eyes. Placing the mug on the first surface she came in contact with, she rushed to the entrance, wrapping her arms around the mob boss as if they had been separated for over 10 years. 

   - Night, angel. - Sebastian was tired and that was noticeable by the dark bags under his eyes and his dishevelled appearance. However, he could surely get used to having Y/N wrap her arms around him every time he came home. Y/N, on the other hand, came to her senses and stepped back, feeling the heat coming to her cheeks. 

    - We were worried about you. - she shifted her weight from feet to feet.

    - Who’s we, angel? I’d gather we would mean you. - his hand traced down her forearm to her hand, softly holding it on his. - I’m sorry I didn’t answer your message, I didn’t want to lie to you as to when I’d be back. Besides, I assumed Gwen would enjoy a holiday from me. 

    - You could’ve said something. - she rubbed the side of her neck, eyes fixated on the ground. - I was worried. 

    - Ah ... - he smirked, taking a step forward. - You were worried. That was what I wanted to hear. 

    - Well, I ... I just wanted to know so I could warn Gwen. I shouldn’t bother you anymore, you must want to rest. I can fix you something to eat if you want. 

    - You’re not the housemaid, Y/N. Although something smells really good in here. 

    -  Oh ... - Y/N rushed into the kitchen, turning off the hob and bringing the pot back to one of the metal bases in the kitchen. - It’s just something me, Gwen, and Dan used to have when we were little and couldn’t sleep. 

   - What’s wrong? - Sebastian noticed the shift in her tone.

   - Do you think I’m clueless? - she leaned onto the kitchen’s wall. 

   - Why do you ask?

   - Dan seems to think I’m clueless. 

   - Daniel Forrest? - he asked and Y/N nodded. - What does he know of the world to make assumptions?

   - He’s sort of right. - Y/N took a place on the chair next to his. - I don’t exactly know what Mr. Forrest or you do, specifically. I don’t even know what you were up to these past weeks. 

   - It’s entirely way too boring besides I’d rather be surrounded by clueless people than the ones I’m surrounded by. You really shouldn’t worry about what he thinks of you. 

  - Do you worry what others think of you?

  - I’ve lived long enough to have certain names hauled at me. Some deserving, some undeserving but I tend not to stress about it. My mother used to say people like to talk about those they can’t be. 

  - Well, if it’s any worth .. I don’t think half the names I’ve heard given to you do actually have any truth to them. 

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld​ @sarge-barnes-sir @captainchrisstan​

[a-wonderingmind]

peggysous week, day 2

Alright, yes I know it's day three already but I was in London for Adult Bizniss™ so here's today! I posted this on ao3 yesterday, but here again for the tumblr crowd!

five times it wasn’t that simple (and one time it didn’t matter)

1

Are you sure you don't want a drink?

Some other time. Thanks.

Right. Well, goodnight.

Night.

Interesting.

Something had clearly happened in Belarus; Carter and the boys, while not surprising, given her history with the 107th, had not been a likely constellation up to now. Which made his recent discovery all the more complicated. Carter was definitely the blonde in the club photos. He had been agonising all night and all day, trying (desperately) to work out how she might fit into to all of this. Killing Spider Raymond? Didn’t seem like her style, but she had been the last one seen with him. It just didn’t add up.

The rational investigator’s voice in his head piped up; perhaps he was blinded by his crush on her. He wasn’t so oblivious to his own thoughts and feelings to discount it as a possibility. This was his job, after all; he had to canvass all possibilities.

Oh, but it was never simple when the personal and professional mixed.

2

You believe Carter?

I do.

Yeah, me, too.

He would never admit it if asked, but the fact that Thompson also believed her released a knot in his chest he hadn’t known was tied up. Her story fit, of course, and provided an explanation for everything he had uncovered in his own investigation; but even as he was laying it out for Dooley, he could still feel the little niggling voice in the back of his head saying that perhaps his judgement was clouded.

He could never quite bring himself to believe the self-righteous thought that of course she was an innocent in all this; however much he resented it, Thompson had been right about the relighting of his torch for her. They still didn’t know if her explanation would pan out, yet he could feel his affection reassembling itself.

And damn, how he wished this could be simpler.

3

Ah. Maybe another time, all right? I've got to meet a friend.

Sure. Sure thing. Another time.

Well, it had been a long shot in the first place, a gal like her.

Her voice rang in his head - <i>the girl on the pedestal</i> - and he corrected himself; she may have known Captain America, but she was an agent like the rest of them, and only human too. He could, however, also still hear Krzeminski, and his aluminium crutch felt heavy as he picked it up again.

Perhaps he should spend some time trying to know her as a friend, first, and not the idea of her, and go from there. It wasn’t going to be simple, but he could keep his feelings well hidden for another little while, give them time to recalibrate. She might even ask him; he wouldn’t put it past her, it would seem a very Carter thing to do. He hoped they’ll remain friends, at least, even if his feelings aren't returned, for a very long time.

4

“I think you’re in love with her. Aren’t you, Daniel?”

He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t say what he knows to be true.

His silence says it all.

5

Is anything the matter?

You didn't call me here to ask me about my emotional state.</i>

It was a good enough non-answer that she didn’t question it, or perhaps she decided just not to engage at this point; either way, he was glad she didn’t.

He indulged in a little self-pitying snark as she continued explaining, not knowing if he wanted her to respond to it or not.

To get this crushing guilt off his chest, that he loved Violet and had still failed her, that his whole will and almost 3000 miles hadn’t been enough. That he still, inexplicably, (or maybe not, his traitorous heart whispered) was falling for her.

He wanted so badly for it to be simple. But it just wasn’t.

+1

“Nothing to say? No quick comeback?”

Well, that about said it.

She’s pressed up against him, following when he falls. She’s on his lap, hand on his face, her lips on his; it’s everything he could have hoped for when he had baited her. He hadn’t been sure what to hope for - that she would agree to stay for a little longer? That they would part on good terms? Whatever the nebulous desire had been to poke the bear, just a bit, he was very grateful for it now.

Sometimes, it just was that simple.

tagging @peggysousweek as requested!

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolate Prince and The Lovely Maiden {Willy Wonka x Rose Bucket AU}

Chapter 4

Priscilla and a Man Named Ichabod

Tagging: @holdmeicant @frozenhuntress67 @pastelmoonwitche @arinnasweetslove​

It was another lively day in Sweetstown. All the businesses were open and busy with customers. People were out doing their daily errands. But Priscilla Preston wanted more to this life. As much as she loved her father, she didn’t want to work with him in this bakery forever.

She dreamed of joining the Prince’s guard but she knew that it was impossible. Women weren’t allowed to do such a thing. But, she supposed the hunting would have to do for now. 

“Priscilla!” Theodore Preston called out to his daughter. “Those buns are ready! Could you take them out of the oven, please?”

“Yes, father!” Priscilla called back. She moved from her spot in the window and walked over to the oven. 

Theodore had obtained the bakery from an old friend of his. Patricia Mason was known for making the best pastries. Theodore worked under her as an apprentice. But when the kind old woman had passed away, Theodore took control of the bakery. Theo didn’t change much. He kept everything the way it was, as to respect Patricia’s memory.

Even though Priscilla wasn’t as fond of working in the bakery, she never would get tired of the smell of fresh bread. A bell had rung, indicating that a customer walked in through the front door.

“Could you help them, Priscilla?” Theodore requested. He was a bit busy with mixing some ingredients. “My hands are full”

Priscilla made her way to the front of the bakery. “Hello, how can I help you?” The man turned around and looked at Priscilla. Usually, in a town like Sweetstown, everyone knows everyone. But Priscilla has never seen this man before.

“Oh...I...uh...” the man hesitated.

“Are you okay, sir?” Priscilla asked.

“Yeah” the man nodded. He twisted his head around, looking around the bakery as he approached the counter. “The smell attracted me. Is this your bakery?”

“No, my dad’s” Priscilla explained. “He wants me to take it over someday”

The man gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know how that feels. I’m guessing you wish for something else in your life”

“Yep. I want to join the Prince’s guard one day, but women aren’t allowed to” She sighed in disappointment. “So it’s not just my father holding me back from that one, it’s society as well”

“I don’t think that’s such a bad ambition” the man admitted. Priscilla seemed taken back by his words, but she appreciated them nonetheless. “I see a bow hiding back there” The man pointed in a direction behind Priscilla. “Can I assume that’s yours?”

“Yep. Don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I’m the best hunter in all of Sweetstown” A boisterous laughed filled the bakery. Priscilla scowled. There was only one man who laughed like that. “Harry, what do you want?”

He ignored her question completely. “I was walking by, when I heard you say that you are the best hunter in Sweetstown”

“I am”

“Oh please, women can’t hunt or fight. They’re place is in the kitchen and the bedroom, cooking for and pleasing their husbands”

Priscilla came around the counter. Her fists were clenched, ready to throw a punch at the misogynistic man. “I’ll show you how good of a fighter I am!” 

The man, who had still yet to give his name, put his hand on Priscilla’s shoulder. “Miss, as amusing as that would be to see, perhaps this isn’t the place”

“I’d listen to him if I were you, Priscilla” Harry sneered.

Priscilla unclenched her fists. “This isn’t over, Harry”

“We’ll see about that” He turned and headed for the door. Just before he left, he stopped to say one more thing to Priscilla. “Such a shame really. You’d be pretty, if it weren’t for your attitude. I pity the man who gets stuck with you as a wife” 

Much to Priscilla’s relief, Harry finally left. “I can’t stand him. I want to stab him in the throat with one of my arrows”

The unnamed man snorted. “He deserves it for the way he was talking to you���

Priscilla smiled. “Thank you. I don’t believe I caught your name”

“My name?” The man panicked. He seemed like he forgot his own name and had to think of one. “My name is... Ichabod. Ichabod Crane”

“Ichabod” Priscilla repeated. She had never heard a name like it, but she thought it suited him. “I’m Priscilla Preston” She held out her hand for Ichabod to shake. Ichabod just stared at her hand. “If you don’t want to...” Priscilla slowly started pulling her hand away.

“No, no” Slowly and awkwardly, Ichabod took Priscilla’s hand and shook it. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Priscilla”

“I think my friend would like you” Priscilla said. Ichabod seemed like someone who would be a good friend for Rose. Possibly something more. And if Rose did fall in love with someone, that would give her the push she needed to leave the cottage with Charlie, and finally get away from Avonmora.

“Is your friend here?” Ichabod asked.

“No. She doesn’t live around here, but I visit her everyday. Or at least, I try to” Priscilla explained. “Maybe next time you come around, I could take you to go see her”

“Sure” 

“Prince! Where are you?” Ichabod went wide eyed when he heard the voice calling out. “We should be heading back!”

Priscilla grabbed a wet and soapy rag as she began washing the counters. “I wonder what the Prince looks like? He never leaves the castle, you know”

Ichabod laughed. “Is that so?”

“Prince” Another young man burst in through the door. “There yo--- Priscilla!” The man straightened when he saw the girl.

“Daniel!” Priscilla quickly threw the dirty rag behind her. She smiled and propped her elbows onto the counter. She placed her chin in her hands. She fluttered her eyelashes at Daniel. “What a pleasant surprise”

Daniel smiled and approached the counter. “Yes, it is” He fiddled his hands together. “You look lovely today”

“Thank you” Priscilla remembered about Ichabod. “Oh, Daniel. This is my new friend, Ichabod”

Daniel looked over at Ichabod and blinked. “Ichabod?”

“Yes, that is my name” Ichabod said, staring at Daniel without blinking.

“Right” Daniel cleared his throat. “Perhaps, Ichabod, we should leave Priscilla to continue working. The lunch rush is about to begin”

“I suppose so” Ichabod nodded. He looked to Priscilla and gave her a smile. “Hopefully we’ll see each other again soon, and then maybe you can take me to see your friend”

Ichabod left with Daniel. Priscilla was left with questions about Ichabod. He was a strange man, with a strange name to match. Was he new to Sweetstown? She’d never seen him around before. And why had he been acting so stiffly when Daniel started calling out for the prince?

Why was the prince even in town today? And how come nobody knew? Surely, if the prince was making a visit, there would have been an announcement. Then again, there are people who don’t even believe the prince exists.

Daniel pulled Ichabod---or rather, Prince Willy---into an empty alleyway. “Prince! What do you think you’re doing!? You know how your father feels about you leaving the castle! If word had gone around about you--”

“Why are you worried?” Willy asked. “No one knows what I even look like. And if I ever want to leave the castle, then I should be allowed to” He argued his case. “Why am I not allowed to leave again?”

“Ever since the massacre of the kingdom of Blossom, he doesn’t feel it is safe for you to be leaving. Whoever is responsible for that, could still be out there. Considering you were once betrothed to Princess Briar--”

“Yeah, I remember” Willy still found it weird how he was once engaged to a baby. But, if Princess Briar was still alive, she’d be in her twenties and married to Willy. “What’s your point, Daniel?”

“My point is that leaves a target on your back!” Daniel said. “So we really should be heading back. Also, your father has informed that plans have changed”

“Plans?” Willy narrowed his eyes at Daniel. “What plans?”

“Princess Scarlett is to arrive tonight”

“Tonight!?” Willy yelled. Daniel flinched at the volume of his voice. “She’s not supposed to be here for another three weeks!”

“Please, don’t punish me. I’m just the messenger”

Willy sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “I know. I’m sorry”

“I know you’re not happy about this, Willy” Daniel sympathized. “And if I could do something, I would”

“Let’s just head back” The two of them left the alleyway, nearly crashing into a woman and a young boy who were walking by. “My apologies. We should really watch where we’re going”

“Oh, it’s alright” the woman said. She looked at the one who apologized and smiled. “Well, aren’t you the handsome one?”

Willy just smiled awkwardly. “Oh, thank you”

“What’s your name, dear?” the woman asked. 

“Ichabod” Willy gave his fake name.

“Ichabod” The name dripped from the woman’s crimson colored lips. Willy couldn’t tell what it was, but there was something real intimidating about this woman. “Until we meet again” the woman looked down at the boy. “Come, Charlie” She tugged on the collar of the boy’s shirt, which made him wince.

The woman and the boy walked off. Willy couldn’t help but notice the boy. Notice how uncomfortable he felt in the presence of the woman. The way she pulled rather harshly on his shirt.

“She seems quite scary” Daniel made sure the woman was away from earshot before he made his comment. 

“Did you see how she treated that boy?” Willy mentioned.

“It doesn’t matter, Prince” Daniel brushed off the entire encounter. “We’re likely to never see them again. Let’s just get to the castle”

It was easy for Daniel to brush off the woman, but not for Willy. There was something about her. Something ominous. But he wouldn’t meet her again. Not for awhile yet, anyways. 

[ruby-read]

mid-year book freak out tag! - 2021

best book so far

a court of mist and fury by sarah j maas - 5 / 5 stars

need i say more? it was just so good.

best sequel so far

bitterblue by kristin cashore - 5 / 5 stars

i don't think i have talked about the graceling realm series and how much i love it on here but here i am.

i loved every book in this series but bitterblue stood out to me because even though it was incredibly long, it kept me gripped throughout. there was an unsolvable mystery (maybe im dense though) that kept me guessing for hundreds of pages and just a glimmer of romance which i usually miss when its not there but this stood on its own without it.

i thought bitterblue was an extremely strong character and it was a great ending to a companion trilogy (before winterkeep was announced and continued it). also, loved seeing all of the characters come together at the end and seeing katsa and po pop in and out.

new release i haven't read yet but want to

the nature of witches by rachel griffin realm breaker by victoria aveyard

something about witches and elemental magic just sounds so awesome to me and i am just so drawn to this book.

and i am currently enjoying the red queen series and love a good found family so im hoping to love realm breaker. ive heard mixed things so im gonna lower my expectations a little but still excited.

most anticipated release for the second half of the year

these hollow vows by lexi ryan aurora's end by *** ******** graceling: the graphic novel by kristin cashore six crimson cranes by elizabeth lim the hawthorne legacy by jennifer lynn barnes

idk why i am so excited about these hollow vows but i am and i think it's just gonna be a (hopefully) exciting fantasy romance. im hoping for two sexy men and a bad BITCHHH of a main character.

ive heard only amazing things about six crimson cranes so i am very very excited! i've been waiting for this book i think since january and its almost finally here!

aurora's end (even though the authors are cancelled) i NEED to finish the series then they will officially never receive my money again. the cliffhanger at the end of aurora burning was so incredibly uncool and so now i have no choice but to see what happens in the finale.

the graceling graphic novel. do i need to explain myself?

and the hawthorne legacy is the next installment in the inheritance games series and i really enjoyed the first book! the mystery and the way patterns were worked into it really had me intrigued and i was itching to know what was happening for the entire book. so excited to see what happens in the next one!

biggest disappointment

the crown of gilded bones by jennifer l armentrout - currently on pause/possible dnf

this book was just so boring but also SO much happened in the first 50 pages that i was honestly incredibly confused? and there was just overwhelming info-dumping about the history of the world and an underdeveloped plot. idk i just couldn't get into it (which was really disappointing bc i loved akofaf). thinking of dnfing...

biggest surprise

crown of midnight by sarah j maas - 4.5 / 5 stars

ok so. i really did not enjoy throne of glass. after reading the acotar series and then jumping into throne of glass, i hated the love triangle, the intrigue wasnt enough to get me engaged until the last third, etc. sooo i was even considering not reading the rest of the series. but of course like the sjm stan that i am, i had to. and this one was so good. i wrote a review on it so if your interested in more in depth thoughts go take a peak!

favorite new author (debut or new to me)

kristin cashore!

the way that she writes political mystery in her world is so good. not a single time did i have a correct guess on what was happening. i also loved how her books had strong woman main characters, but they all had agency in a different way. and how the romance subplots were small but enough to keep the romantic in me satisfied, but also didnt take away from the main heroines story. ugh just so good! love u girly <3

new fictional crush

aaron warner (shatter me series by tahereh mafi)

ok i know hes kind of like super crazy and kind of creepy obsessed, but also like.... cmon. hes kinda super hot too. and i kind of love the i hate everyone but you trope....

art credit: @jessdraw.s

new favorite character

lara (bridge kingdom series by danielle l jensen)

her strength, her agency, her ability to unlearn everything she grew up believing, her power. an amazing and complex character.

art credit: @rosiesfables

books that made me cry

a court of wings and ruin by sarah j maas

if you've read this book u understand why. there was a happy ending for our two main characters at the end but the war that ensued at the end of this book was just fucking heart wrenching and so beautiful at parts i will never forget everything that happened.

books that made me happy

heartstopper vol. 1 by alice oseman

i feel like this series is great for young readers (12-17). it teaches about friendship, sexuality, mental health, asking for help, how to offer help, etc. and tons of really diverse representation throughout. i wish this existed when i was younger.

it made me happy to think about young people reading this series and feeling seen and validated. and about how openly alice oseman illustrates difficult topics and how to deal with them. just made my heart swell.

most beautiful book bought/gifted so far

the ones we're meant to find by joan he

i mean... its gorgeous!!

books i need to read by the end of the year

crescent city by sarah j maas

again as a stan i need to finish this before the end of the year bc i have only heard good things and the second book comes out jan 2022.

favorite book to movie adaptation so far

moxie, shadow and bone, brigerton lol (and very excited about along for the ride!!)

2021 reading stats so far...

45 books read

35,000 pages read

11 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ reads

4.13 average rating

thanks so much for reading my mid-year update! happy reading! : )

[politicalprof]

What Politicalprof listens to -- podcast edition

A recent question about a podcast has led me to offer this “answering a question literally no one has asked” post: what Politicalprof listens to, podcast wise. (Hint: it’s mostly history.)

Recent readers will know I do NOT listen to political podcasts. I get enough politics in my life every day. In the car, on a walk, I want to listen and think.

In no particular order:

Hardcore History: Don Carlin’s deep dive into historical events. Long. Well-told. Sometimes I learn a lot. I’ve bought ones that weren’t available for free. He doesn’t need my endorsement. But he gets it anyway.

The Fall of Rome: Patrick Wyman’s breakthrough podcast. Uses modern research techniques to explore under-publicized dimensions of the long fall -- falls -- of the Roman Empire. Completely worth the investment.

Serial: Another ultra-popular podcast. From the people who do This American Life. Seasons 1 (on Adnan Syed) and 3 (on the criminal justice system in East Cleveland, OH), are staggering. Season 2 is less so but so what? Listen and learn. Season 3 will hurt your soul.

Tides of History: Patrick Wyman’s followup to The Fall of Rome. It’s really about the rise of the West -- very much a western-Europe focused podcast. Enjoyable, if not quite as good as The Fall of Rome. Feels padded at times, particularly with interview shows. But I’ve enjoyed it.

The History of English: A long, deep dive into the history of the English language. Want to know why we say church but chapeau and why Americans say “erb” while British people say “herb”? You’ll know if you listen to this. Want to trace English from its Indo-European roots? Listen. There’s a LOT here. It’s a weird language. But by god it’s an interesting one.

30 for 30: If you have any interest in sports stories, particularly in their social/political dimensions, 30 for 30 from ESPN is excellent. I don’t care about all of them. Heck, I’ve skipped any number of them. (God I don’t care about MMA.) But they’re well done, and usually worth a listen.

Bundyville: Interested in the patriot/militia movement? The two seasons of Bundyville are a must. I know a LOT about this stuff ... and this is excellent. Revelatory. Listen.

The History of Rome: Mike Duncan was a college student when he started a fairly straightforward, leader by leader (with a little social history thrown in) accounting of the history of the Roman Empire. It’s not super sophisticated, and it is very leader-centric, but it’s interesting.

Revolutions: Duncan’s follow-up to History of Rome. He’d had some professional education when this started -- and a much more sophisticated podcast rig, with some professional support, too. Tracing the great Revolutions of the modern era, starting with the English Revolution of the 1640s through the American and French Revolutions, and beyond. A nice gimmick.

The City: Really good. First season examined the politics, bias and money involved in an illegal landfill in the North Lawndale area of Chicago, a predominantly African-American district. Second is deep diving into politics, strip clubs, and gentrification in Reno, NV. From USA Today. Excellent.

Land of the Giants: A thorough look at the business, politics and consequences of Amazon. Not “the Amazon.” Just “Amazon.” A behemoth in its own right. Fascinating and thought-provoking. It’s made me appreciate Walmart ... which is quite a thing.

History on Fire: A podcast from an Italian writer/academic, Daniele Bolelli. Long dives into various events. Mixed in quality. Some I like a lot, some fairly unengaging. Broad focus. Has shifted to a pay-site; I don’t find it worth it. But I enjoy the ones I access.

The Theory of Everything: Hard to describe. Still early days with this one. Thought/monologues/contemplations on big issues, with a little reportage along the way. May hold up -- I’ve enjoyed it so far. But it isn’t something I’ve yet committed to.

Friendly Fire: Three friends, at least two of whom are film industry professionals, chat about a randomly selected war movie. Some usual suspects; some surprise examples. Usually some interesting insights about films any war buff almost certainly knows. (But not always.)

Martyrmade: Deep -- DEEP -- dives into the way(s) the world has caused suffering for people, and how that suffering has shaped global life. Interesting project about Jim Jones and the Guyana cult got started before moving to its horrific end. Slow sending out new episodes; DEEP dives. You have to want it. Often worth it.

Against the Rules: Michael Lewis (The Blind Side, The Big Short.) has a podcast. (Just don’t ask him to talk at your university -- his fee is staggering.) This one is about referees: the job, the challenges, the complaining. And not just in sports. Interesting and engaging.

Surviving Y2K: Three seasons, the first of which is about the Y2K “bug” and the controversy around it. I skipped “Looking for Richard Simmons,” but enjoyed a deep dive into the American reality show, “Headlong: Running From ‘Cops.’” (All through Dan Taberski.) Light but interesting.

Spectacular Failures: A podcast about how some businesses went belly up despite the fact that they seemed like they were rolling along. (Blockbuster, anyone.) It’s not super deep, but it’s very accessible. If you want to think about failure, this is a good place to listen.

Cautionary Tales: stories of people screwing up. Examining the psychology of compounding errors. Well worth the time.

Catch and Kill: The podcast version of Ronan Farrow’s work exposing Harvey Weinstein and the architectures of power that enabled him. Interesting on both the issue and journalism as well.

History Impossible: long dives into some of the most uncomfortable, brutal but under-recognized hollows of American history. Very early days for me. Interesting so far.

I Spy: brief stories of real spy missions told by the people who did the operations. Not transformative, but interesting.

Reset: explorations of the roles technology plays in our lives, and of the ways the digital world is remaking the “real” world. The last episode I listened to examined Apple’s decision to remove an app that the protestors in Hong Kong were using to avoid police. Digital ethics in the modern age.

I have listened, at times, to This American Life, which I like on the radio but not as a podcast for some reason. I found American History Tellers wildly over-produced. I can’t listen to the endless array of crime podcasts. But I don’t watch crime TV, either.

[confessionsofaloudmouth]

Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard; a blog post by Chelbey Trump

Happy Sunday, everyone! I’m generally going to be posting on Sundays because it gives me all of the weekend to write them. Also, you’ll catch on to the structures of these posts as we go.

This week, I am going to be discussing the novel Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard. Published in 2015v by Simon and Schuster, the novel was on the New York Time’s Bestsellers list. (In the future, I would like to write a blog post about that particular achievement because, let’s face it, almost every book has been on it.)

Characters:

Mare Barrow; A 17 year-old pitpocketer, living in the slummiest part of a country, with a younger sibling who has potential for their life, parents who are loyal to-said country even though they’re given the short end of the stick, and a male best friend who is, undoubtedly, in love with her. Come on down, Katniss Everdeen! Oh, sorry, I meant Beatrice Prior. America Singer? Oh, right this novel is uniquely science-fiction, even though it follows all of the rules of a dystopian-fiction series. Ehem: I hate this character. Her arch, though not necessary to the forward motion of the story, was lost completely by a million different subplots and, even, the main plot. I like the idea that, in the midst of becoming the face of the rebellion, she became less of an individual person and more of a loyal person to her people. That being said, she was incredibly selfish, with her pity-part-for-one attitude simply because she was born into the Stilts. She took for granted her sister’s opportunity to provide for their family by dragging into a scheme which destroyed her life. Did she save her by acting the part of princess? Yes, but, c’mon: It was either marry Maven or be killed. I hope that she loses this attitude within the next couple books because;

Cal Tiberias; What a hunk! Charming, self-less, sensible, and a future-king? Cal was a strong character, although it could be said that he was weak due to his loyalty to his father which was conditioned inside his brain from a young age. He turned his back on the lower part of his people to stay true to the upper, wealthy, ‘better’ half. He deserved better than this, after showing traits that he was, well, better than this! I understand it worked for the plot line, but how juicy would it have been to see Cal stand up to his father? I loved how passionate he was, though. Mare thought he didn’t care about the divide, but he was noble in saying he didn’t want violence to be what closed said-divide. He was willing to put his men on the same level as the Red soldiers, including himself, to fight the war. That’s hot. In the end, when he defended Mare even though she had offended him, I fell more in love with his character. He had stayed true to himself- or who he was meant to be- instead of a stupid girl, but when they turned their backs on him, he was ready to die with honor alongside that dumb female (synonyms!) If Cal was still the general, then I’d say:

Maven Tiberias; If Cal is a hunk, Maven is that nerdy, attractive guy. He was charming from start to finish even though he was, ya know, the ‘bad’ guy. It was hard to believe him even as the bad guy, however, because he only 17 and played Mare like a game of Chess. It’s understandable that he had, like Cal, been conditioned to love his mother and her cause for all of his life, that the king and Cal were enemies, that Mare could never possibly love him. But, Aveyard literally threw us twenty pages from the end of the novel. It felt rushed, uncomfortable and, well, forced. Overall, I still love his character and I’m excited to see him as a king in the next three books.

Queen Elara and King Tiberias; The. Best. Female. Character. What a literal queen! She didn’t care about anyone’s feeling, had powers which made her stronger than pretty much everyone, and waited so long to let her husband’s head roll so she and her son could rule. That’s amazing! I loved her smug attitude which was revolutionary because she was still a lady. She chided Mare for not acting like a said-lady and did so herself while still manipulating everyone and anyone. We dont see enough strong female characters who are still very much feminine, and we deserve to. Now, for the king: Off with his head! I’m so glad he’s dead because I dont think I could have stood another second of his toxic masculinity. That’s all I’ll say about that.

Ruth, Gisa, and Daniel Marrow; I wish we could have a family which is matriarchal. Too many books rely on normal societorial standards fo household and I’m slightly over it. I understand that in a normal kingdom, men, like Daniel, were the war hero’s, honorably discharged, wise, older, and the most-looked up to in the family. But, c’mon, Mare could literally manipulate electricity and her father couldn’t have made dinner? Her mother was too sweet and quiet and her father too quiet and judgmental. It was too basic and boring. However, I feel awful for Gisa: She absolutely deserved so much more than what she was given by Mare’s horrible decisions.

Honorable Mentions; Kilorn was just so annoying, trying to be masculine yet show his affection to Mare. Get over her, bud, she’s fighting a revolution! Evangeline was annoying, yet so, so satisfying to read about. She was exactly like Queen Elara with all the overwhelming traits of King Tiberias. Lucas, I felt, could have been used a lot more sufficiently than he was. Julian, too, was lost in the fast-paced motion of the novel. Overall, the relationships everyone formed with one another were not illustrated well through the novel. I refuse to believe Mare was falling for Maven, or Cal for Mare, or that Julian truly cared about Mare as much as he said he did because I saw no build up of that love.

Settings:

What Aveyard lacks in characters, she makes up for in description. Although sometimes it felt like she was going overboard with her language usage, fo rate majority of the time, I could see exactly what she was discussing. Her most creative ideas for setting were the forest which was able to prevent pollution from Gray Town, the usage of The Capital River running through the entire kingdom, and the bridge separating Archean and the Silver residencies.

Plot Lines:

Reds vs. Silvers; I hate and love the idea of the high-class citizens having silver-flushed skin and literally silver blood. It took the first half of the book for my mind to comprehend the distinction because I was too focused on hating Mare Barrow (just kidding!) I loved the moment when Evangeline dug her nails into Mare’s arm in order to draw red blood so that her identity would be revealed. But, I hated that there was no explanation as to why there was separation between the two classes.

The Love Triangle (Quartet?); How grossed out would you be if your brother was engaged to the girl you just kissed and made-out with her on a regular basis? Well, put yourself into Cal’s shoes and see you feel. I knew from the moment Cal pretended to be a Red citizen that he was the love interest for Mare- not that she didn’t end up having two others. The personification of his body heat connected to the feelings Mare would have for him, and that was interesting to read about. However, Maven had to be thrown into the mix because he was engaged to her for literal marketing reasons. I shipped Maven and Mare so hard, but Maven apparently did not. I wouldn’t call it a love quartet because we all know Evangeline didn’t actually love Cal.

Brother vs. Brother; The idea of Cal and his father vs. Maven and his mother reminded me of Reign and the relationship between Francis, Queen Elizabeth, Henry and Sebastian. As a fan of that show, I loved this power struggle. The idea of Cal being the OG son and Maven his half-brother showed that his blood did run deep with the Tiberias’. It allowed for him to feel disconnected and to want to follow his mother’s lead to power.

Symbolism and Themes; Let’s be honest here: There were none. Besides the fact that the division between the Reds and Silvers could stand for racism in any and all societies, the novel itself lacked depth. You shouldn’t look to this novel for guidance or meaning. Rather, it is a quick, cute read. Mare’s earrings stood fo her brothers, and eventually Kiloran, but that was literally given to us within the first five chapters. Most of the themes lied along the man vs. nature due to the issue of biological desterminism, and man vs. man for the revolution.

Dream Cast:

Jaz Sinclair as Mare Barrow

Charles Melton as Cal Tiberias

Tati Gabrielle as Evangeline

Jaeden Martell as Maven Calore

Melora Hardin as Queen Elara

I know, I know, this is not everyone. But, these are the only characters I truly felt needed to be played by specific people. And, yes, some are highly debatable, such as Melora because of her comedic timing, but I think these actors could play these characters well.

Quote Corner:

“The truth is what I make it. I could set this world on fire and call it rain.”

“Flame and shadow. One cannot exist without the other.”

“Words can lie. See beyond them.”

(Victoria Aveyard is a wordsmith. What she lacks in character and book depth she makes up for in language and description.)

Overall Rating: 3.75/5

I know I bashed the book a lot, but it was a pretty easy and cute read. I am going to read the sequel because I am very invested in Maven as character and would like to see what else Aveyard has in store. She took ideas from dystopian novels which were all familiar with and put her own unique twist on them, and I admire that.

Thank you for reading this week’s blog post. Next Sunday I will be discussing, “The Half of It.” Please like, follow, and reblog my posts to help get me out there. Happy Memorial Day Weekend!

[mullersturtleneck]

The Dress

Yes hello I’m apparently not done writing about the wedding, I have a lot of soft feelings. Also, Annika and I are meeting tomorrow and I still can’t even believe it, so have a fic to celebrate. -Danielle

....................

              They’ve come on a Sunday morning, Orpheus and Eurydice, to the tiny house on a large plot of land. It’s a lazy sort of day, the drive out calling for old songs on the radio to be sung at full volume, the excitement of the news they have to share on both their lips although Orpheus is sure that their Christmas night won’t be such big news to their audience at all. His Amma’s house feels like a safe-haven; there is an immediate sense of peace when they walk up the path made of mismatched, hand-painted brick, covered in snow that’s been carefully shoveled away. Demeter greets them with unmatched joy and ushers the young couple in from the cold, taking their coats and scarves and draping them along the wooden banister of the staircase. A baby goat romps around, its hooves clicking on the wood, and Eurydice bends down to pet it with a restrained, confused sort of affection. Orpheus laughs.

              “That’s Sunny, the new baby.” It’s half an explanation Eurydice accepts, Demeter calling them from the kitchen and wrapping them both in a tight embrace. She looks over Eurydice with careful eyes and the young girl takes the hint, nodding and placing a hand over her stomach in reassurance. Everything is more than alright.

              “We have good news!” Orpheus begins before they can even settle, Demeter bringing them cups of tea. Eurydice holds hers gently, feeling the warmth radiate through her mug. Orpheus sets his immediately on the counter, thanking his grandmother before gesturing to Eurydice with pride.

              Eurydice sits at the kitchen island, grinning wildly as Demeter takes her hand, examining the flash of the little diamond against the light. Orpheus rambles animatedly, a truly lively retelling of the night just a few days before; “I didn’t know what was happening-she said she had something to tell me and I thought it might be something bad but I wasn’t sure, I was mostly just nervous. And then she told me she was pregnant, and I know that you knew it-you always know-but isn’t it amazing?”

              Eurydice chuckles, shakes her head as she watches Orpheus pace around the kitchen, gathering wildly, stopping only to lay his head on Eurydice’s shoulder. He brushes his cheek against hers, gently wraps his arms around her middle.

              “Do you like it, Amma?” Orpheus gestures to the ring, a sort of whispered softness to his voice as he looks at it, in awe himself that it’s on her finger. “I bought it from the guy you said-the one who makes his own bands. He was really nice, he said to tell you hi. He helped me pick it out. I was a little lost, but you were right-I knew when I saw it.”

              Demeter feels the warmth of her grandson’s words, the security that comes from Eurydice, who basks quietly in his embrace. The newly engaged couple, bursting with silent, intimate pride over the anticipation of the daughter she can so clearly see in their future, spend a moment suspended in this pose. She shows her approval by nodding, squeezing Eurydice’s hand.

              “It’s truly wonderful, Orpheus.”

              “And he thinks I’m going to let him ‘replace it with something bigger’ when he can. Tell him he’s crazy, please. This is what I want.”

              “While we’re here,” Orpheus blushes, diverting the subject as the positive attention, while welcome, becomes far too encompassing for his humble heart. “I’m going to get the eggs for you.”

              He unwraps himself from Eurydice and moves to the kitchen counter to grab an old wicker basket, laying an old cloth in it before stumbling nervously out the door. Demeter watches him go-watches Eurydice grin, looking after his retreating figure as he makes his way toward the coop. It’s a task he’s been at since he was just barely able to walk, when Demeter begged for a chance to watch him. Every Sunday morning they’d come, Persephone and Hermes, toting a wide-eyed Orpheus. He’d spend his time trailing after her, running his hands gently along her rows of crops. He’d pluck cherry tomatoes from the vine as soon as they were ripe, popping them in his mouth and puffing his cheeks out.

              Getting the eggs was his favorite job-he’d bend to greet each chicken, the toddler singing songs to them about the names he gave them, or even while he was removing the eggs from their nests. “Thank you for your eggs, thank you for your eggs, hi-ho-dairy-o thank you for your eggs.”

              It’s a song Demeter can still see on his lips before his figure retreats past their vantage point.

              Eurydice shifts in her seat then, a soft smile still engulfing her features in a beautiful sort of peace. She runs her hand gently through her cropped hair, looks around the kitchen with curiosity at the knick knacks that line the shelves, not unlike the strangely sensical amount that Orpheus keeps in his-their apartment. There are little things-the way she seems to speak with the entirety of her heart, the way she makes Eurydice feel immediately at home-Orpheus is surely a product of her in his own way, there is no denying their similarities.

              Demeter moves to the space in front of her, catching her attention as she taps her fingers twice on the counter. It’s a gentle sort of gesture, as most of the older woman’s quirks seem to be. She tilts her head slightly at Eurydice, lets out an involuntary hum.

              “Do you have any plans for the wedding yet?”

              “Not yet,” Eurydice responds, moving her hand to her unchanged stomach. “We want to wait until after the baby is born, give ourselves some time to adjust to it all. Well, he would get married tomorrow if he had the choice. I want to wait-plan.”

              “He’s a rare kind of soul-always has been. I really hope that you know that all of this has made him the happiest he has ever been. He can barely contain himself-if it were his choice, he’d have told everyone he knows by now.”

              Eurydice laughs-yes, she knows this. She can feel it in the way he dances around her, wakes up with his arms around her stomach, caressing the invisible changes. She feels it in the way he kisses her good morning; lingering, unwilling to leave her side without trying his hardest to procrastinate. And when he tells her he’s proud of her, leans on the bar and sends her copious amounts of seltzer as she studies, takes frequent breaks to sit beside her and ask how she’s doing…Eurydice is well educated on his kindness, even when she finds it hard to believe that this open, honest love is hers.

              “Any ideas for a dress?”

              “God no,” she laughs. “The more I think about it, the more I think I should wait. I don’t want to choose something when I know what’s about to happen to my body.”

              Demeter shrugs, a dimpled lift of her lips and a lift of her hand.

              “Why don’t you try one on right now? Nothing major, just a little something I have laying around. Maybe it’ll give you an idea of what you want.”

              Eurydice agrees, takes Demeter’s outstretched hand and follows her up the creaking staircase to a tiny, pantry-sized room holding a sewing machine, baskets of yarn, and curtain rods across the walls to store rows of old clothing. She rifles through the mass of denim and bohemian patterns until she comes across a white dress, sheer fabric mixed with smaller, opaque bits. When she moves it from the rod, holds it up to show it off, Eurydice gasps. Intricately sewn into the difficult fabric is a glimmering gold thread-simple, yet absolutely glowing with the reflection of the sun. They are constellations-gatherings of stars and lines into simple shapes, some she recognizes while others feel foreign and wonderous.

              She reaches out a finger to trace the threading, mouth slightly agape in wonder. Demeter watches carefully, prods her once more.

              “Just try it on-you never know.”

              She does know.

              The moment Eurydice feels the fabric on her body, looks down at the mixture of pure white and soft gold, she feels a tug in her chest, a slight skip in her heart. She opens the bathroom door to find Demeter in immediate tears, grabbing her hands and holding her at arm’s length.

              “It’s yours. I knew it was yours, but seeing it on you…really, it’s something magical.” Eurydice is at a loss for words. She moves down the hallway, an ethereal being, consumed with the feeling of suspension between reality and a dream. When she finds the full-length mirror, Demeter has begun the same sort of rambling often heard through Orpheus’s lips, although hers is lighter and more controlled.

              “I’m not saying that It has to be yours-you can make your own choices. I just felt in my heart while I was working on those constellations that this dress would belong to someone special.”

              “You-you made these?”

              “I did, a long time ago.”

The day is beautiful; mid-spring, the weather just turning to warmth and continual sunshine. The winter’s snow has long since melted, making way for canvas shoes and well-worn sandals. Birds chirp thankfully, and a few soft clouds paint the sky in picturesque beauty. These days are her favorite; Demeter, who walks with an ambling gait down the old dirt road connecting bits of her small town. There is a purpose, but time is not a battle in this life, merely a reminder of when the day will turn dark and the chickens will need feeding.

              The girl, young in the softened features of her face, runs her hand absent-mindedly over her protruding stomach as she reaches the center of town. She isn’t too far away-a spring baby is what she’ll have-the first day, when the earth reaches the point of equity and evenness. Having the comfort of both knowledge and belief in her soul helps the pregnancy pass peacefully helps Demeter connect with the baby that will become her magnificent little girl. It’s been a strange journey thus far; she hadn’t been brushed off by the people in this small community, but she’s been asked, time and time again, exactly what she’s going to do as a single mother.

              “Easy,” she’d reply, with her well-known grin of boundless optimism. “I’m going to live.”

              Living has been simple-peaceful. In the time since she’s known she was pregnant, Demeter has gotten to know herself as more than a single entity, falling into the path she was meant to take. She feels whole, new. The aching in her bones serve as a reminder to her that this is real-that the yearning and the waiting are about to be repaid in a lifetime of unparalleled love. It helps her move forward, sit with the choice of a life without the family she’d grown up with; the mother back in the city, unwilling to move past her own comfort zone and living to shame her for making the same mistake that she’d made. But living this pregnancy at nineteen years old is not a mistake to Demeter-neither is her move to the rural town, or the new command over the tiny farm she’s learning to manage through her nana’s thorough journaling.

              Today, Demeter walks through town with the confidence she’d gained upon meeting its people, making herself known as someone who enjoys the slower pacing of life. She comes across the same thrift shop she’s frequented since she moved to town-tiny, indistinct apart from the racks of clothing brought outside its entrance, meant to draw people in. Demeter doesn’t need the draw-she finds herself here at least once a week, leafing through clothing and books with careful precision. She chats with the owners-an older couple who’d been good friends with her grandmother and in turn take care of Demeter, her spitting image. When she enters the shop, an overwhelming amount of peace surrounds her. She settles herself in it for a moment, humming softly to the baby in her protruding belly, and begins her journey.

              It doesn’t take long for her to find it.

              There’s a dress hanging between a woolen trench coat and an old army jacket, a delicate sort of thing against two harsher fabrics. She feels the light weight of chiffon, sheer and magnificent, and holds it between her fingers as if it will break. She brings the dress out to hold it in front of her, examines the way it falls so gently from its hanger. It’s simple-pure white, flowing sleeves and only a slight bit of shape at the waist. Once Demeter holds it in her hands, however, she can’t seem to let it go.

              “Found something you like today?” The older woman, with white hair braided behind her head, brings a finger to the dress in her hands.

              “There’s something…special about this dress.” She can’t quite place her words, brought to a stunned silence even more so by the simplicity of it all. To her plain eye, it’s just another white dress. But to her heart, there is more within it that she’s yet to place.

              ���Why don’t you take it?” The shopkeeper grins, closing both her hands over Demeter’s. The young girl’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. But before she can say much more the dress is folded and placed in her canvas bag, and she’s back outside the shop. “I’m sure you’ll make use of it yet.”

              The words of the older woman ring through her mind as she continues her errands, the light weight of the seemingly magical dress feeling heavier with the knowledge that it is there. She stops to gather a few more things; nails for the garden bed, feed for the chickens. When Demeter returns home, she finds a small parcel on her porch-a little box, wrapped in cloth and addressed to her with only a card from her neighbor, thanking her for bringing over a small assortment of her own crop.

              “We thought you might be able to make use of this-it doesn’t really have a place in our collection.”

              Sitting on the porch, Demeter opens the box to find the sun shining down on some glimmering gold thread-beautiful, unique. It captures the light and keeps it within itself, radiates its warmth. She holds the spool, turns it over in her hands, entranced by the softness of it all. Where it could be a flashy show of overpowering glimmer there is simply a glow about it-something special, something different.

              She thinks about the spool of thread as she finishes her day’s work-repairs a row of stakes in the garden, feeds the chickens and collects their eggs. When the day is done her feet are aching, her back pinching from the combined weight of the physical labor and the work of growing a baby. She starts a small fire in the woodstove and makes a cup of tea, reflecting on the day at hand. In her lap, she holds the white dress from the shop; there’s no way it will fit her now, not in this state. Looking at it, she knows that it’s not meant for her-no, this dress is not her style, her taste. But the pull toward it was not mistaken, this she believes in the same way that her soul told her she was meant to have this journey of joyful solitude in the country.

              She remembers the gold thread.

              Demeter rises from the couch, still feeling the aching in her bones, and gathers her supplies in a peaceful sort of hurry. The day has fallen so neatly into place, so carefully, that she begins to understand that coincidence has only ever been a disguise for truth in her life. So she sits, dress in hand, and threads the gold through a small needle. She decides to begin at the heart, looking around for inspiration.

              And there, open on the rickety, hand-made side table next to the couch, is the book she’s been thumbing through, open to the last page she’d been reading before bed the night before.

              Demeter finds an immediate release of the soreness of her muscles through this gentle exercise, through the patient work of embroidering tiny stars and lines. She finishes the night by tying off her thread, admiring the handiwork she could still use a bit of practice at. At the heart of the dress, from the inspiration of the latest book she’s gotten from the thrift shop, the Orpheus constellation stands out amongst the white.

              “I would love to wear this dress.” It’s an immediate decision; Eurydice turns in the mirror, the gold constellations-more than the Orpheus it had started with-stand out as stories to be told. “Are you serious?”

              “Of course I am-it was made for you. I don’t believe that pattern over your heart was put there by accident.”

              Eurydice is not one to cry openly-has never been. The show of emotions has been seen only as a sign of weakness throughout her life, and she’d become very good at storing everything away. Since Orpheus, however, that visage has been harder to keep. Whether it’s the feeling of loving and being loved or the hormones within her body, Eurydice finds herself tearing up as she stares at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She can barely look away, doesn’t want to spare a moment away from the reality of it all.

              “Demeter, I.”

              “-Hush, flower. You know you can call me Amma.”

              “Amma,” Eurydice corrects herself, soft alto stumbling over the familial intimacy of the name. “I can’t thank you enough. It’s beautiful.”

              The months come and go in a blur; Eurydice is a victim of time, organizing her life with careful detail so that she does not fall behind on any aspect of her work. Demeter lives slowly. The young couple comes to visit once a week, Eurydice taking in every bit of Demeter’s child-birthing knowledge as she attempts to teach her grandson some skills in handiness. She helps Eurydice find her footing; describes birth plans and various options, keeps an honest forum of open questions that the young, occasionally frightened girl uses often.

              In the summer, just before Melody is born, Demeter offers her house for a wedding venue.

              “It may not be what you’re looking for,” she shrugs, pouring glasses of lemonade for Orpheus and a very pregnant Eurydice. “But it’s home.” They’re sold on this, Demeter bringing up a pad of paper and a pen to draw out ideas for the yard, little ways they can spruce it up to make it fit their needs.

              When Melody is born, their weekly visits to Amma’s turn into time spent at their own home, Demeter making the trek into the city to watch lovingly as Eurydice holds her chubby-cheeked daughter in her arms, cradles her and kisses the top of her head, feels that motherly love driving her to keep her eyes trained only on the baby. The older woman talks her through the little things; taking care of herself, making meals to freeze from her latest harvest so they don’t have to worry about cooking. She’s the visitor who stays; who uses her knowledge as a doula to be sure that Eurydice remains physically healthy, who answers her questions with a sort of truth decipherable through her own sort of cosmic, fate-driven speech.

              It’s the second Sunday after Melody’s birth that Demeter asks Orpheus to run out and get something at the store-she isn’t even sure what it is, or if they truly need it, but he leaves without a second thought. Demeter sits herself next to Eurydice on the couch-the young mother, not much older than she was when she’d had Persephone, looking exhausted yet bubbling over with love for her child.

              “I have something to show you,” She says, pulling the long white dress from inside of her bag. Eurydice gasps; the wonder of the dress she’ll wear in just a few months has not yet worn off-she’s not sure it ever will.

              “I’m not going to do any alterations yet, but I did make a little change.” Truthfully, she’d added the masterfully stitched shape a while back, the day that Eurydice had tried the dress on and she’d known the soul of the chubby-cheeked infant still inside of her. She’s stitched it on the hip of the dress, a placement unmistakable to the bond the first of their children will have with Eurydice.

              The young girl runs her fingers along the artfully-made constellation, tipping her head in an attempt to understand just what it might mean.

              “Leo,” Demeter explains, putting a thin, delicate hand on Melody’s back. “For her. This little one, attached to your hip, the way it was meant to be.”

              There’s a moment of silence-of natural pause, adoration as Eurydice fully admires the hard work that has gone into each pull of thread through difficult, sheer fabric. Then, it comes to her-swiftly, easily, somewhat surprisingly against the lack of tradition in her own heart. With this family-with the feeling of love surrounding her without pause-there is no better time to begin honoring the things she never thought she’d have.

              “Will you walk me down the aisle?” She’s not unsure of the question, but her past holds back the tone of her voice, mutes it to a wobbling sort of whisper. “Persephone already is, but I just-I think I want everyone to know how much you both mean to me, everything you’ve done for me. I didn’t have a woman to look up to for most of my life. I didn’t get that privilege. Now, I have two. And I want my daughter to live with these examples of women who’ve spent their lives lifting other people up-the women who found me and guided me and let me into their family with open arms. I need Melody to know that her family might seem a little makeshift on the outside, but that you all mean so much more to me than blood ever could.”

              Demeter, tiny freckled body and a head full of wild curls, shakes her head yes before wrapping herself around Eurydice and Melody, kissing the cheek of her grandson’s soon-to-be wife and holding the back of her head. This moment-the tender stillness of it all-is something she never saw coming, and something she will never forget.

[hermionemonica]

So, who’s gonna watch you die?

Thank you so much for 300 followers!

And here’s what I promised, a heart-wrecking piece of fanfiction!

This is a The Notebook AU, so you can pretty much guess what to expect. But I would like to mention: Trigger Warnings for Memory Loss, Cardiac Attack, Major Character Death. Do not proceed unless you’re absolutely comfortable with all that.

This was pretty much a challenge for me, because as you all know, I’m pretty new to writing. This is my first time creating an AU based on another piece of fiction, and it was also a challenge to deal with the bittersweet angst. I hope I have been able to do justice to this! And this goes to you all, all 300 of my followers and friends, because without you all, I’d never be here! And now, let’s get into it!

.

AO3 link

This is set in the future. Hawkmoth had been defeated. Over the years, Adrien and Marinette had got married and had made a family of themselves. They had three children: Emma, Hugo, and Louis. Eventually, they gave up their Miraculous and passed them on to their next generation.  

As time passed, Adrien and Marinette had realised that among the children, Emma would be the best one to shoulder the responsibilities of the Guardian of the Miraculous. When she had become of age, Adrien and Marinette had begun training her for the role. After a period, and after mutual agreement, Marinette had passed on the responsibility of the Guardian to her daughter Emma. And with it had come the inevitable, Marinette had lost all memories of her life as Ladybug. She had knowingly signed up for this. But it would be wrong to think she had not prepared for this beforehand. Before she lost her memories, she had given Adrien her diary, the one where she had written all accounts of her and Adrien's adventures as the superheroes of Paris.  

Adrien and Marinette's love was nothing less than magical. And that's why, every time he read to her the story of their life, she would get back all her memories. But only for a little while. Everything comes with a price though, because after each spell of remembering, Marinette forgot everything all over again, to the point that she could not recognise her husband or her children. But for Adrien, those few moments that she remembered him, their love, their life, it was worth everything else.  

Hugo had married Kagami and Luka's daughter, Julie, and they had two children: Anna and Daniel. Emma was engaged to Alya and Nino's son Tony. But too many unknown faces in the house made Marinette confused and agitated, which is why they had had to come to an arrangement. Louis stayed with his mother, and took care of her, while Adrien stayed with the rest of the family in a house next door. Every evening, Adrien went over to Marinette to tell her a story. And every night, he returned with mixed emotions: happiness at having met the love of his life once more, sadness at having watched her slip away yet again and longing at having to be away from her.  

“It's a beautiful story,” she said. “Did you write it?”  

“I'm afraid no,” he replied with a smile. “Actually my lovely wife is the one who wrote this.”  

“Oh? That's so sweet. I think I'd like to meet her someday.”  

“I'm sure you'll like her.”  

“So what happened next? In the story? Who did she choose?”  

“Okay...”  

(flashback)  

Beep-beep.  

“Chat Noir, you're about to transform back!”  

Chat looked at his beeping ring, he was on his last minute.  

“We need to get you away from here,” Ladybug frantically whispered, sparing a glance at the crowd of reporters in front of them. She put her arm around her partner’s waist and pulled him along backwards. And then with a quick “Excuse us,” they had launched into the air.  

Ladybug realised with the reporters so close, it wouldn't be safe to detransform in the open. And with his injured leg, Chat couldn’t hold up much longer. Nor could Ladybug hold him up too long, for she was injured too. Her home was in sight, and while it might be risky, it was the best option right now.  

“Come on!” she urged.  

“But this is Marine-"  

“I know, I'll explain to her.”  

She pushed Chat in through the latch door so that he landed with a thud onto her bed. Just as she shut the door behind her, a green flash of light illuminated the room.  

Oh no.  

Stunned into immobility, Ladybug stared as the green light of detransformation passed over Chat’s body, and in his place sat...  

“A-Adrien?”  

He stared at her, then down at himself, and then back at her, a look of absolute shock on his face. “M' lady,” he whispered, “I'm so sorry, I didn't-"  

“Adrien,” Ladybug had got down on the bed and was kneeling next to him. She lightly touched his cheek, “It's you.”  

“Ladybug, I-"  

“All this time, it's been you!” Adrien noticed tears were beginning to form in her beautiful blue eyes, as her voice grew more and more emotional. “And I thought I had to choose? How could I?”  

Adrien was utterly confused. What was Ladybug talking about?  

Ladybug edged nearer towards him. Her face only inches away from his, she ran her hands along the sides of his face.  

“Why didn't I see it sooner?” A laugh broke from her lips. “To think that I fell in love with you twice!” Tears now flowed freely down her cheeks.  

“You- you love me?” Adrien asked incredulously.  

“Yes!” Ladybug’s face broke into a radiant smile as she touched her forehead to his. “I love you Adrien, Chat Noir. I love you.”  

“If this is a dream then I never want to wake up.” Adrien closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of their closeness.  

“Me neither,” Ladybug whispered back.  

They stayed like that for no one knew how long. When finally Ladybug pulled back, she opened her eyes to find herself looking into a very familiar set of emerald eyes. A strong desire arose in her, and without a second thought, she crashed her lips into his.  

She was surprised to find Adrien kissing her back with just as much love, just as much passion as she did. Their lungs were running out of air, but neither wanted to break away. They kissed as if their life depended on it.  

Just then a woman’s voice floated into the room. “Marinette, could you come down here for a minute?”  

Ladybug immediately broke the kiss to shout back, “Coming, mom!”  

She turned back to meet Adrien's eyes, but found him looking at her with disbelief.  

That's when she realised what she had just done.  

“Is it really you, Mari?” Adrien whispered, almost as if he was afraid to say it out loud.  

“It’s no use hiding it any longer, is it?” She looked away. Was Adrien disappointed in her? “I- I didn't mean for you to- mmph!”  

The rest of her words were muffled as Adrien's lips fervently caught hers in between his. And just like that, they were kissing again.  

This kiss was shorter than the last one, but in no way less sweet. When they broke off, Adrien only said “I am glad it’s you, Marinette. I love you.”  

(flashback ends)  

She looked up, her eyes glistening with tears. “I remember now,” she whispered. “It was us.”  

A tear rolled down his cheek. “My Princess.” He leaned across the table and cupped her face in his hands. “I love you so much.”  

“Adrien,” she whispered, and planted kisses on the palms of both of his hands.  

“Marinette,” he whispered back, savouring every syllable of her name.  

“What happened to me?” She cocked her head to the side as she looked into his eyes.  

“Nothing,” Adrien shrugged. “You just went away for a little while.”  

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows in an attempt to remember. And she did remember. “How much time do we have?”  

“I'm not sure,” Adrien spoke in a little voice. “Last time, it was no longer than five minutes.”  

A shadow passed over Marinette's face. “Okay,” she mumbled.  

“Hey,” Adrien brought her attention back to himself, “I brought along something.”  

Saying so he took out his phone from his pocket, and navigated with shaking fingers. Music began to flow into the room from the speakers fixed in the corners of the room.  

“May I have this dance m' lady?” he bowed slightly and extended a hand.  

Marinette’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as she smiled. “Oh, kitty.” She placed her hand in his and let him lead her from the table onto the floor.  

They held each other close in their arms while they danced. It was almost as if they were afraid that if they let go, this moment will slip away from them forever.  

Adrien occasionally planted kisses on every inch of Marinette's face that he could reach. “Oh, how I missed you m' lady!”  

Marinette nuzzled close to Adrien's neck. “I love you, my Prince.”  

After a while, she leaned back slightly to look at him. “How are the children?”  

“Oh they are doing so good,” Adrien said with fondness. “They were here today. Little Anna and Daniel too, they are getting so big.”  

“And the kwamis?”  

“Emma is taking good care of them. But they still miss you.”  

Marinette's eyes twinkled with tears. “Will you tell them all that I love them?”  

“Of course I will.”  

“And that I'm sorry?”  

“I'll tell them buginette. And hey,” he cupped her face with his hand, “don't you feel bad about this okay?”  

Marinette looked at him and smiled slightly. “I miss you all so much, Adrien. I am so sorry that I can’t be with you,” her voice shook, “Was this- did we make a mistake?”  

“No we didn't,” he kissed the tip of her nose. “This was the right decision, and we both know it. And we did have an amazing life so far, didn't we?”  

“Adrien,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “do you think we can borrow the Miraculous for tonight? Would that be alright? You know what we could do? We could run across the rooftops together, just like old times! And we could sit on the beams of the Eiffel tower and look out at the city.”  

Adrien sighed. What would he not have given to be able to do that? But time was short and uncertain. “I don't think so. Not tonight Princess.”  

“Come on, why not?”  

Just then the expression on Mari’s face changed. “Wait a minute... why did you call me princess? I don't know you, Sir. Am I supposed to know you?” She said in a painfully formal tone.  

Adrien gasped. It was over? So soon? But he didn't want to let go already! Couldn't he- couldn't he just hold on a little longer?  

“Hey Mari, I love you... stay with me, please don't leave.”  

“Excuse me, who are you?”  

“I'm Adrien, your kitty, and you're my Marinette,” he took a step towards her, but she stepped back.  

“No, Sir. I'm afraid I don't know you.”  

“Come on, bugaboo.”  

“Please Sir!” her tone was more insistent now. “I must ask you to stop calling me by those names now!”  

Despite himself, a smile crept up Adrien's face. Even now Marinette didn't like being called “bugaboo".  

As much as Adrien hated it, he knew there wasn't anything he could do now. This happened every night. After every spell of getting her memories back, Marinette forgot everything all over again. But with every passing night, the periods for which she came back grew shorter and shorter. And tonight, he felt an unexplained heaviness in his heart. As if he was going away from his Lady for a long, long time.  

Hugo woke up in the middle of the night, feeling thirsty. He raised himself up on his elbows and looked to his side; Julie was still asleep. Carefully, he got out of the bed and let himself out of the room.  

After getting a glass of water from the kitchen, he felt very much awake. So he decided to take a stroll through the house.  

As he passed by his father's room, he was surprised to see the lights on. He was not supposed to be awake at this late an hour.  

“Dad?” he cautiously knocked, so that he would not wake him up if he was already asleep.  

“Hugo, is that you?” came his father's voice. “Come in, my boy.”  

He slowly opened the door, and found his father was sitting up in bed.  

“What are you doing, Dad?” he asked.  

“Oh, just looking at some old photographs,” Adrien ran his hands lovingly over the pages of the notebook he was looking at. Hugo walked over to his father’s bed and took a seat beside him. He immediately recognized the notebook, he had seen it since he was a little child. It was his mother’s album.  

His Mom's album was a creative mess, just like her own self. It was filled with photographs of their childhood, photoshoot clippings of when his father used to be a model, magazine spreads of his mother's designs, special sketches of his mother's designs, and of course family photographs. Every page had little handwritten notes by Marinette herself. The notebook was titled “My Totographs".  

The page Adrien was currently looking at contained the sketches of his parents’ wedding dress and wedding tux. Hugo already knew everything about the time his mother had made them herself. But he listened on with interest as his father went on about all the details. He loved listening to when his father talked with so much love about something. Since his mother lost her memory, the light had gone out of his father’s eyes. It was nice to see him liven up, even if it was for a short while.  

After a few minutes, Hugo spoke up, “It's very late dad, you should go to sleep. You know what, let's continue this discussion again tomorrow.”  

“Alright,” Adrien said, shutting the album. Hugo turned down the lights of the room. “Good night dad,” he whispered before leaving the room.  

“Good night, my son,” Adrien whispered back, as he slid under the covers.  

After Hugo had left, Adrien reached out under the other pillow and took out a pink diary. He flipped over to the last page.  

“Read this to me, and I'll come back to you” it read.  

Adrien reached over and carefully placed the notebook inside his bedside drawer. Settling back into his pillows, he whispered, “Good night, m'lady.”  

“Hugo! Hugo wake up!”  

Hugo opened his eyes to find Julie leaning over him, looking on with a concerned expression on her face. He immediately sat straight up.  

“What's wrong?”  

“Dad has suffered a cardiac attack! Emma is calling the ambulance, we need to rush him to the hospital immediately!”  

Adrien was admitted in the emergency ward immediately. For hours, it was uncertain if he would make it. But miraculously, he survived the attack.  

“Surviving an attack like that,” the doctor said, “that too at such an age, it's almost unheard of. Mr Agreste is nothing less than superhero, I must say.”  

“That he is.”  

“There is something I had to ask, though. Is there anyone among you named Marinette?”  

The children shared glances. “That is the name of our mother, but she is not in a position to come.”  

“Oh, that’s okay, I understand,” the doctor smiled to himself. “That sure explains why Mr Agreste kept muttering her name while he was slipping in and out of consciousness. It is not every day that you get to hear of such a beautiful love story.”  

The doctor further said that they needed to keep him under observation for some time, just in case. So, Adrien had to stay in the hospital for a week after he was moved to the general ward. Even after he was released, he was not strong enough to stand up for too long or speak long sentences. The doctor said it was the toll the attack had taken on him, but he promised that it would wear away in a few days.  

Three days after being released from the hospital, Adrien was finally getting back his ability to think. And all he could think about was Marinette. He hadn't seen her in so long. He would not stop asking about her, and even though the children assured him that their mother was alright, nothing could put his troubled heart to rest. Not unless he could see her with his own eyes again. But no one would let him leave his room, let alone leave the house.  

“Where do you think you are going?”  

Adrien froze with his hand just short of the door handle, and whipped around. It was Plagg. It was too dark to see him, but it was difficult to miss his luminescent eyes shining in the dark.  

“I was just taking a walk,” Adrien said, “I can't sleep.”  

“You know you're not supposed to move around all by yourself.”  

“Yeah, I know.”  

Plagg floated over to him. “You weren't really going for a walk, were you? You were going to see Marinette.”  

“I miss her Plagg. I really want to see her. It's just next door, I can walk this much.”  

Plagg sighed. “Emma told me to keep an eye on you. But she’s asleep now, so maybe I can let you off this once.”  

Adrien's face lit up with a bright smile. “Oh Plagg, you are the best!”  

“Easy there kid. Now I'll go over and unlock the door, but be careful not to wake up Loius, okay?”  

“Thank you so much Plagg.”  

Adrien cautiously opened the door to Marinette's bedroom. The moonlight was falling on her face as she slept.  

She was so beautiful.  

He took a seat by her bedside. Running his fingers through her hair, he whispered “Hi.”  

Marinette slowly opened her eyes. “Adrien.”  

Adrien lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lovingly. “Hey, Princess. I'm sorry I haven't been able to be here to read to you.”  

A tear rolled down from Marinette's eye. “I didn't know what to do. I was afraid you were never coming back.”  

“Oh, Marinette. I'll always come back.”  

Marinette tightly grasped Adrien's hand in both of her own. “What's gonna happen when I can't remember anything anymore? What will you do?”  

Adrien leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I'll be here. I'll never leave you.”  

Marinette lifted her head slightly and kissed Adrien's lips. It didn't take him a moment to kiss her back. Marinette smiled against his lips; it still sent sparks through him, even after all these years.  

Marinette was the one who broke the kiss. “I need to ask you something.”  

“What is it m' lady?”  

She took a deep breath. “Do you think that our love can create miracles?”  

Adrien smiled. “Of course I do. That's what brings you back to me each time.”  

“Do you-do you think our love could take us away together?”  

Adrien slowly lay on the bed next to Marinette. He wrapped his arms around her. “I think our love can do anything we want it to.”  

Marinette rested her head on Adrien's chest. “I love you, Adrien.”  

“And I love you Marinette.”  

They both leaned back to look into each other's eyes.  

“Good night mon minou.”  

“Good night my lady. I'll be seeing you.”  

Saying so, they closed their eyes and nestled closer to each other.  

Louis woke up to a phone call. It was Emma.  

“Hey, Emma.”  

“Is Dad there?”  

Louis sat up in his bed. “What?”  

“Dad isn't here! Is he with Mom?”  

“B-But he hasn't been over for a week,” Louis said, already getting out of bed, “and he most certainly didn't come last night.”  

“I know, but could you please check once? Otherwise, I have to call the police,” her desperation was ringing clear in her voice.  

“Okay, just hold on a second.”  

On his way to Marinette's bedroom, Louis leaned over the second-floor railing onto the living room. His dad wasn't there.  

Please be in here dad, Louis prayed as he slowly opened the door to his mom's room.  

He heaved a sigh of relief as he saw his parents lying on the bed, cuddled close to each other. He tiptoed into the room, taking care so that he would not wake them up. As he stood by the side of the bed looking at them, he smiled. His parents had always been the ideal lovers, just like in the movies. Their love was magical, beautiful like a fairy tale. Even after so many years, he had seen it with his own eyes that their love for each other had not diminished a bit.  

Just then, his expression changed. Something was wrong. Everything was too still, too silent. His heart stopped as the scariest thought crept into his mind. Praying fervently that he was wrong, he stepped closer to the bed. He placed a shaking finger in front of his father's nostrils. He sensed nothing. As tears began to form in his eyes, he put a finger in front of his mother’s nostrils, but there was nothing again. He sunk to his knees, shocked, unable to acknowledge the tears that now streamed incessantly down his cheeks.  

Picking his phone up to his ears, he sighed into it.  

“Louis?” came Emma's voice.  

“Dad...”  

“Is he there?”  

“Dad and Mom...”  

“Oh, he's with mom? That's okay, I'm coming over just now to take him home. Is mom alri-"  

“They are not breathing, Emma.” Louis declared in a whisper.  

“Wha- what are you saying, Louis?”  

No reply came from the other side.  

“Hang on bro. I am coming.”  

They had not expected so many people to turn up at the funeral. But then again, they were Marinette and Adrien Dupain-Cheng, there wasn't anyone in the city of Paris whom they hadn't inspired or supported in some way or the other. Even if no one knew that they had been Ladybug and Chat Noir, the saviours of Paris once, they had been nothing less than superheroes in their civilian life.  

“Even in death, nothing could separate them,” Emma whispered.  

“I am sure wherever they are, they are happy with each other,” Tony put an arm around her shoulders, and she wrapped her arms around him.  

Hugo and Julie embraced each other as well, Hugo sobbing silently into Julie's shoulder.  

Louis looked from one to the other and smiled. “And I have no one?” He joked, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.  

“Come here,” Julie and Emma laughed and pulled him into a group hug.  

[bluesfortheredj]

The Sweet Escape Chapter 5.

Wed 21st June

You wake up with a fuzzy head after not getting a lot of sleep the night before and memories of what happened yesterday soon come flooding back; the good, the great, and the downright awful way the day ended. Your head was still spinning from everything that had happened and it was making you feel so sick you thought you were about to throw up any second. Gwilym had video called his fiancée last night, you’d heard snippets through the wall, but you’d put your headphones on for a couple of hours so that you could block it all out and let him get on with it in private. It wasn’t for you to hear, she needed to hear what he had to say, not you. You felt cheated once again thanks to him not being honest with you, and it was the worst feeling in the world after finally letting him in to your life.

You should have stuck to your guns.

You should have kept pushing him away.

You should have known better after everything that had happened.

When you swing your legs out of bed and begrudgingly get out from underneath the warm covers, you spot a folded white sheet of paper that’s been pushed underneath your door, and you immediately know who it’s from. You go and pick it up with a heavy sigh, then reluctantly open it up to see a hastily written note from Gwilym.

(Y/N),

I knew the engagement was a mistake from the moment she said yes – the pressure of everyone around me moving on with their lives; getting married and having children became overwhelming and I thought that the best thing to do was join them.

I didn’t mean to involve you in any of this, it’s my mistake that I need to fix, and I promise I will. Being with you today has ignited something within me that I never thought would come to life again.

Please believe me when I say I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.

I didn’t mean for any of this to happen but my heart just couldn’t stop itself when I saw you, and I followed it blindly without thinking of the consequences.

I didn’t mean to fall for you, but I did.

The engagement is over, it never really began anyway.

Please give me a chance to talk to you face to face. After dinner, on the cliff path. Please. X

A tear falls from your cheek onto the paper unexpectedly as you realise that you’d also foolishly followed your heart instead of listening to your head, and you can’t help but remember the words that you’d heard being exchanged between him and his fiancée.

“You don’t want to go through with this, do you?” she’d asked immediately upon answering.

“I… I can’t.”

“Well the 30 unanswered calls and god knows how many texts told me that. You could have at least said something before you ran away.”

“I didn’t run away, I needed some time and space-”

“I knew this was going to happen. I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“As soon as I said yes to you, you turned into someone else, and now I can see already that you look more like the person you were before you asked me the question,” she’d snapped.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Me?! Why didn’t I say something?! Why the fuck didn’t you? I loved you. I wanted to make it work.”

“I’m so sorry. So very sorry, Rosie. I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing you can say. I’ll get your sister to pick up your belongings from mine and drop them at your parent’s. You can do the explaining to them. Goodbye Gwilym.”

You wince at the memory of her cutting him off like that, knowing that he would now be dreading going back home, but it couldn’t soften your heart and how you personally felt about him; you were still filled with anger and hurt at it all. It didn’t even come into it that he deemed the relationship over, the fact of the matter was that he had been engaged when he kissed you, and after what you’d had happen to you, it was the worst thing in the world he could have done.

You trudge towards your door after getting dressed, then hold your breath as you listen for any movement from the next room, and when you’re satisfied that Gwil’s not around you sneak out and into the breakfast room before anyone else.

“You’re early!” Danielle smiles as you walk towards her, but her grin soon fades when she takes a proper look at you; your eyes dark and heavy from lack of sleep, your mouth turned down into an unintentional grimace, “are you okay?”

“Just feeling under the weather today, I won’t be here for breakfast I’m afraid,” you sigh to exaggerate the fact you didn’t feel well.

“Not a problem darling, do you want some toast to take to your room?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Thank you though.”

You quickly slip back to your room until you hear Gwilym exit to go to breakfast, then make your escape while everyone’s eating and drive out to one of your favourite beauty spots to just sit and think things over in the tranquil surroundings of the countryside. Your thoughts soon turn to how you can avoid going to dinner, but dammit you were a fucking adult and had to face this head on instead of running away and hiding from it all; pretending none of this had ever happened. The buzzing from your phone soon drags you back to the present moment and when you see it’s your mum you almost burst into tears right there and then.

“Hello,” you answer meekly.

“What happened sweetheart?” she sighs. She was your mother, she knew already.

“Oh, mum,” you sob, “it’s a mess.”

The next hour or so is spent alternating between conversation and crying both on the nearby bench and then in your car when other people appear, and your mum listens to everything you have to say carefully until you run out of tears and words.

“And why did you bring his note with you when you left the guest house?” she asks, much to your confusion.

“Well, I… I don’t… I just put it in my bag, I don’t know why. Is it relevant?”

“You tell me.”

“Well I guess I just wanted to read over it again before dinner.”

“Because you want to give him the chance to talk to you? He’s obviously very taken by you, and he hasn’t held back in expressing his feelings about you, even if it is a rather short period of time. Who can blame him though? You’re beautiful, intelligent-”

“Mum.”

“What? I’m just saying, you can’t blame him for liking you… Even if he has gone about this the completely wrong way and made himself look like a total and utter arsehole in the process.”

You manage to let out a short laugh at her observation of the situation, he has indeed made himself look like a complete prick to be honest.

“Hmm,” you hum in agreement, “I definitely agree with the arsehole bit.”

“But, on the other hand, he has done the right thing his side with breaking things off.”

“But he didn’t tell her he kissed me.”

“Things were over as soon as he ran away like a cowardly muppet. He didn’t need to say anything about the kiss, love. It wasn’t you that broke them apart, that’s all down to him and the fact that he never should have proposed in the first place.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “true. Still doesn’t change the fact that he wasn’t upfront with me though.”

“Oh of course it doesn’t, and I fully expect you to give him hell for that, especially after what happened with Russell… But I would give him a chance to talk to you face to face. It doesn’t mean you’re okay with anything, and it doesn’t even mean you’ll talk to him for the remainder of your stay, it just means you’re mature enough to hear what he has to say and give him a bit of a bollocking for acting like a twat at the same time.”

“Haha!” you laugh, “he’s definitely getting a bollocking, don’t you worry mum.”

“You really like him, don’t you?” she asks, already knowing your answer.

“Yeah… unfortunately.”

“It’s not unfortunate at all, you needed something to take your mind off Russell. It’s just a shame he’s a bit of a twit,” your mum chuckles.

“Just goes to show there’s no such thing as a perfect man!” you reply, “I should have known there’d be something wrong with someone so handsome.”

“Well it could be worse, just try and think on that. Now you get something to eat please, and then text me when you’ve spoken to him tonight.”

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you too darling.”

You let out a long and loud sigh as you tilt your head back on the head rest, then put your phone in your bag along with the note you’d read out to your mum, and decide on where to go for lunch; all that crying had really worked up an appetite.

The time goes far too quickly for you, and you find yourself clenching your teeth the entire drive back to the guest house. You wait outside for a few minutes before eventually undoing your seatbelt and making your way inside, then you rush to your room and shut yourself in until you absolutely have to leave it and face Gwilym again. Your stomach couldn’t help but feel nervous at seeing him again, it was a wild mix of emotions that you felt, and when you take your seat in the dining room your heart is racing inside your chest. He walks in not long after you but stays silent as he nods and smiles to the other guests who are already seated, then he looks directly at you, the sadness in his eyes evident already as you quickly turn away for fear of crying.

“Are you-” he begins.

“How are you feeling now darling?” Danielle interrupts, positioning herself between your tables to block his view.

“Better, thanks,” you nod as she places your starter down in front of you.

“Good to hear,” she smiles as she gives your shoulder a squeeze.

Gwilym takes the hint and doesn’t attempt any further conversation while you’re eating, then you make the first move as you exit the dining room before him, taking a slow stroll up the garden and eventually out onto the cliff path. Your fingers wrap around the cold metal of the fence that separates you from the sea below as you await Gwil’s arrival, and as soon as you see his familiar figure lingering next to you, your grip gets a little tighter.

“I’m sorry. So very sorry (Y/N),” he sighs, “I didn’t-”

“Why?” you butt in quietly but confidently, “why did you do that to me? It was quite literally the worst thing you could have done.”

“I didn’t realise that Russell had cheated on you, I was stupid to do that, I wasn’t thinking straight at all...”

“I mean, I realise that your relationship was over before that happened, but it doesn’t change the fact that you were still engaged when we kissed,” you sigh, letting go of the fence and turning to face him properly, “do you know how shit that made me feel? Being involved in a situation that was dangerously close to what had just happened to me, but on the other side of it?”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs defeatedly, “I don’t know what else to say. There was no excuse for how I acted, I simply shouldn’t have done it without properly ending things first. Russell was a fucking prick to do that to you, and now I’ve acted like a prick. I’m not really a prick though, honestly, and all I did was follow my heart… and I know you did too, otherwise you wouldn’t have let me in like you did. I betrayed your trust, and I’ll never forgive myself for doing that, because it’s true what I said yesterday, you deserve everything that’s good in this world.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, half to stop yourself from crying and half because he’d just said everything you wanted him to say even though you didn’t want to let him off that easy on this.

“Come and sit with me,” he offers, taking your free hand and leading you over the to bench.

You both take a seat; his arm automatically draping around your shoulders and his thumb rubbing your t-shirt comfortingly.

“I don’t expect to be forgiven straight away,” he says quietly, “but I’m not going to just leave things like this. I can’t. I’m in too deep. I need you in my life (Y/N), and I don’t think you realise the effect you’ve had on me these last few days.”

“Well, I obviously made you forget you had a fiancée yesterday…” you say with a sideways glance.

“I deserved that,” Gwil nods, “that was a dick move on my part, I hold my hands up.”

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement.

Within a matter of seconds he’s on his knees in front of you, holding your hands in his as he meets your confused gaze with pleading eyes that were glistening in the dim street light a few feet from the seat you were on.

“I will do anything… anything… to spend the next few days with you. Please. Give me a chance to show you I’m not a complete dickhead,” a stray tear falls down his cheek, but his grip on your hands only tightens as he awaits your answer, “I promise I’ll make it up to you by the end of the week.”

“When we’ll inevitably go our separate ways...” you sigh, seeing the end before it’s already begun.

“We won’t,” he replies, shaking his head furiously from side to side, “that won’t happen because I won’t let it, but we don’t even have to think about that yet. Just follow your heart one more time and I swear I won’t let you down.”

You slip a hand from his and his face visibly drops at your action until you reach out towards him slowly and wipe away the tears that had fallen upon his cheeks while he was speaking. There was a hell of a lot of making up to do, but if he believed that he could do it all by the end of the week, then who were you to stop him from attempting it? You relent, signifying your decision by giving him a single nod, and his face lifts instantly into a smile.

@painthatiusedto @winnielinleigh @queenslandlover-93 @excellentbecca @peachllobotomy @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @readinghorn @godohammers @timeandpixiedust @lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @the-baby-bookworm @chlobo6 @tenement-funstah @rogmeddows @drivenbybri @mazzellosjoe @muralskins

[agentnico]

Top 10 Best Movies of 2019

Disclaimer: I have not seen the films 1917 and Bombshell upon releasing this list, so they have missed out on this list due to that factor. Otherwise, there’s a chance both of them would have been on here.

It’s that time of year again when I decide what were some of the greatest films that graced us on the big screen (or small screen in light of Netflix’s ever-growing presence). 2019 was not a bad year for movies, though it’s interesting to note that the highest score I gave to a film this year is an 8/10, not higher. Maybe that’s a detriment to 2019′s film quality, or more so to me becoming more stricter with my opinion. The latter is more likely to be honest since I had problems with Detective Pikachu. I know, how dare I judge that little cute yellow furry Deadpool-sounding Pokemon! Though I am proud to note that this is the most international Top 10 list I’ve ever done, managing to sneak in film picks that weren’t just made in Britain or America. I really branched out this year. Does that make me a professional critic? Probably not, but in feeling I am, and that is what counts. Anyway, without much further ado, here are my favourite films in 2019...

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Glass

Joker

One Cut of the Dead

The Lighthouse

Zombieland: Double Tap

Burning

Always Be My Maybe

The Peanut Butter Falcon

10) JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 3 - PARABELLUM - 2019 was arguably the year of Keanu Reeves. From his self parodying roles in Toy Story 4 and Always Be My Maybe (easily the best cameo of the year) to announcements of his participation in the upcoming video game Cyberpunk 2077 as well as returning for a third Bill & Ted film, and of course, there’s John Wick 3, a non-stop action romp that gives the Raid movies and Mad Max: Fury Road a run for their money. The weak ending does cause the film to fall short from perfection, but it still makes my Top 10, and deservedly so.

9) AVENGERS: ENDGAME - I hated Infinity War. I said it once and I’ll say it again. So it was much to my dismay that I really enjoyed Endgame. It’s a culmination and celebration of the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe, and though I may have problems with the franchise as a whole, I do respect them for how far they have managed to come.

8) KLAUS - Netflix’s first animated movie is an absolute delight. A callback to a time when films were much simpler, with a truly good message, beautiful animation that blends 3D computer animation with old-school 2D animation and some great humour. A very sincere and well-paced production with an engaging story (for the whole family!) that doesn’t rely upon ironic jokes to tie in the adults, or on the integration of modern technology to hold the kids’ interest (like so many modern animated features do). It just tells a story. Klaus is destined to become a Christmas classic.

7) DEERSKIN - Leave it to the French to provide us with one of the weirdest motion pictures on this list. A tale of a man’s obsession with his coat (a good looking coat no less!) that leads him to some hilariously dark places. In style and theme Deerskin reminds me of another film I really love, The Voices starring Ryan Reynolds, in that it is strange, horrifying, awkwardly funny and overall weird. You’ll either love it or hate it, but Deerskin is certainly worth seeking out.

6) UNION OF SALVATION - Having been displeased with modern Russian cinema as of late, Union of Salvation surprised me to a major extent. A large scale historical study that describes some of the more difficult pages of the history of the Russian Empire. The revolt of the Decembrists in 1825 had to show the emperor that the old rules and laws were no longer able to restrain the empire from collapse, and although the rebellion was suppressed, it became a special precedent that brought the country under global historical changes. Crisply filmed, and directed in a way that leaves it to the audience to interpret who was right and who was wrong, this is a historical epic that leaves an impact.

5) KNIVES OUT - “I suspect foul play.” I will forever be grateful to Knives Out for gifting us Daniel Craig with a Southern accent, something I never thought I wanted but now that we have it, I would not want it any other way. Director Rian Johnson has crafted a truly original whodunnit, that mixes classic elements of the murder mystery genre whilst adding an interesting modern spin to it. Also, talk about a star-studded cast (with a stand out performance from Ana de Armas)! I hear a sequel is already in the works, and I say bring it on!

4) ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD - Quentin Tarantino’s love letter to old school Hollywood is a visual and narrative feast, pairing Hollywood legends Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt as they traverse the colorful streets of Los Angeles in 1969. Tarantino was already one of my favourite film directors, and here he fully displays why he’s a true artist of his genre (that’s right, the man has his own genre!). I might disagree with the movie’s ending, but the rest of the film is such a fascinating experience and easily one of the most memorable films to come out of 2019.

3) MARRIAGE STORY - Such a depressing movie. Yet such a great depressing movie. Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson give career-best performances as a couple going through a divorce, and the way the movie is grounded in realism makes the whole thing a painful experience to go through, however one worth taking. Marriage Story is depressing, yes, but also truly incredible.

2) PAIN AND GLORY - The French give us the weirdest film of the year and leave it to the Spanish to give us the most personal one. Director Pedro Almodovar semi-autobiographical film takes a close look at how one deals with acceptance, being forgotten, symptoms of depression and generally all fairly negative attributes, but delivered in such an honest and profound way that there is a strange lightness that emerges from it all. Antonio Banderas is uncannily vulnerable in the lead role, delivering such an earnest performance that shows a man that is filled with melancholic regret who seeks his own form of redemption.

1) PARASITE - The winner of the Palme d’Or (the main prize at the 2019 Cannes Film Festival) is also the winner amongst my favourite films of the year, not that those two are comparable. In any case, Parasite is easily the most original and surprising piece of film-making that I discovered this year, managing to subvert expectations and blend together so many different genres so naturally. To spoil any narrative element of this movie would be a sin, like this one in particular works best when not knowing anything about it. That’s how I watched it, and now it’s my number 1 film of 2019. 

And now also for my No 1 WORST film of the year, which goes to...

WORST FILM OF 2019 - CATS. Obviously. What else did you think I was going to say? When I saw it I thought it was poop, and to this moment all I see is poop. Cats is poop. The end.

[msjr0119]

Hold my girl

Part 2 - Homesick

No one really knows about TRR Main characters past …. Most of this series is based on flashbacks from her childhood. I’ve changed the main characters name to, Freya Johnson as Riley Brooks is used in my other series.

Freya is in love with Drake, but he hasn’t returned the feelings- instead just acts horrible towards her. Will Freya return back to Cordonia with the court or will she stay in the USA after the UN party.

Warnings: swearing

Ive lost my tag list for this series 👎🏻

Just tagging everyone- if you want to be removed let me know 😊

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @beardedoafdonutwagon @dcbbw @qammh-blog

********

Freya got ready for the UN party, although she felt like not attending due to Drake’s attitude towards her. She’s been through heartbreak before, so in the back of her head she knew she’d get over him. If she didn’t attend, there would be questions and gossip regarding her absence. Adding the finishing touches, she was disturbed from her thoughts as Maxwell came bounding into the room.

“Is my lady ready?” Wearing that cheeky grin he always wore, she couldn’t help but laugh before returning to a melancholy expression.

“Yes.” Maxwell wasn’t convinced with her tone of voice that was now matching her facial expression, as she responded to him.

“What’s up blossom? You can tell me anything.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“Yes Max, I’m sure. It’s just being back home. The home that I abandoned. The home that I should have stayed at.” She lied, hoping that Max wouldn’t see straight through her. “I just miss my parents too. I saw Daniel before, you know my colleague from the bar. I feel guilty leaving him in the shit- he’s looked out for me ever since we were four. When my parents died, he was my rock.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“Simple. No one asked.” Maxwell felt guilty now too- she was correct. When she came to Cordonia she was the glue that held everyone together- always asking about each and everyone’s past, listening to them ramble on about their self pity. No one had actually asked about her, maybe because she seemed so strong they all believed that she wasn’t hurting deep down. Maybe they believed she was invincible.

“From now on, you want to talk about anything at anytime time of the day- I’m your man. I’m so sorry. But you’re like my sister, I’m always going to be here for you no matter what happens.”

“Even if I decide to stay here?” Asking the rhetorical question, she didn’t want him to provide an answer- she hadn’t made up her mind yet as to where her future would be. “Anyway, come on Lord Beaumont- people will be wondering where we are.”

*****

Arriving at the venue, the two of them walked in arm in arm. The usual gesture for any type of ball. Fixing a fake smile towards the rest of the nobles- scrutinising the room they found Hana.

“Freya! You look amazing.”

“As do you Lady Hana.”

“Are you okay? You’ve been extremely quiet.” Hana asked looking concerned at her friend. She wasn’t the usual Freya they knew.

“Homesick right blossom?” Maxwell confirmed, winking at her. Not wanting to spread gossip even if it was towards Hana. He knew when the time was right, Freya would talk about it to Hana herself.

“Right.” She smiled at Maxwell, hoping he would understand that was her way for saying thank you.

“I’ll be right back Ladies.” Freya and Hana decided to just people watch - both wishing they didn’t attend. There was a morbid atmosphere surrounding them.

“Freya. You look absolutely stunning. Same to you Lady Hana.” Turning around to Liam, she smiled softly- even though he was engaged to Madeleine he still knew how to charm the women.

“Thank you, your Majesty. Welcome back to my city.” The two ladies curtised, Liam shook his head laughing- he treat them both as close friends, he didn’t expect them both to curtsy every time they spoke.

“It’s good to be back.”

“Freya is feeling a bit homesick.”

“Oh. Well maybe we could all do something together after the party finishes. What would you suggest?”

“Well you’re in the city that never sleeps. There’s a few things you could do.. Times Square, a walk around Central Park. I’ll let you all come to a conclusion. As a local I’ve done everything a billion of times.”

“Very well, excuse me- duty calls.”

Hana watched Liam walk away and her eyes caught Maxwell waving frantically towards them. Walking over to him, they could see the panic written across his face as well as sweat dripping from him forehead.

“Hana, Frey thank goodness you are both here.”

“What have you done? You’re acting very suspicious.” Maxwell explained how he got the country flags all mixed up and in a flap he couldn’t concentrate on rectifying his mistake. Drake confirmed this and elaborated on what else he had done incorrectly in a sarcastic manner of tone- as if Maxwell was some kind of idiot. Mistakes happen.

“Oh Maxwell.” The Ladies said in unison. Freya had avoided all contact with Drake until now- she knew she was stubborn, after all he always got ‘lumbered’ with her.

“How about you Sir Walker? Caused any diplomatic disasters yet?” She asked in a sarcastic manner, revenge for him talking the way he did about Maxwell.

“Johnson. Can we speak in private please?” Just apologise to her, that will be the first step.

“Whatever you need to say you can say in front of Max and Hana.” Maxwell and Hana looked at each other, they knew Drake wasn’t the type of person to need to speak to someone in private.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Hana ran off towards the bathroom. Freya knew Hana, and she knew this was an excuse. At least she had Maxwell she thought.

“I need to check up on Bertrand.”

Not you too, for fuck sake. Freya thought.

“You look lovely. I just wanted to apologise for before.”

“Thank you. Apology accepted. Excuse me.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” Freya raised her eyebrows, thinking about how much of a hypocrite he sounded right now.

“Why are you such a jerk?”

“You know what, ignore what I said. I’ll leave you alone. I shouldn’t have apologised.”

“Have a good life Walker.” A good life? What’s she going to do ignore me for the rest of her life. Just tell her you love her you moron.

******

Leaving Drake, Freya decided to mingle with the guests- trying to regain her courtly friendships prove that she wasn’t the person that she had been stereotyped as. Adelaide waved her over, holding the bottle of champagne ready to pour it into Freya’s empty glass.

“Duchess Adelaide, it’s so lovely to see you.”

“As you dear, now I know technically we shouldn’t be allies- but I think you’re good for court. I’ve been watching you and I believe that you have gained many friendships during your time. Is that correct?”

“Yes, your grace. Some friendships, some enemies- but that is life.”

“Tell me some things about you. I’d love to know the real Freya Johnson.” Feeling slightly tipsy, what had she to lose? The more she thought about it the more she didn’t care anymore. After much deliberation, she had decided that she wasn’t returning to Cordonia- so the gossip about her may as well spread like wild fire. Who’s best to spill all her secrets out to? Duchess Adelaide- the gossip girl.

“The real me.. let’s see... my life has been a rollercoaster. I’m not American, well I am but I was actually born in England. I was adopted after my birth mother tragically passed away due to an overdose, then my adopted parents passed away when I was a teenager. I’m a qualified nurse- so if there are any medical disasters I’m your girl. There you have it. Nothing much more to say.” Adelaide for the first time was speechless, not knowing what to say- wondering if anyone else knew or had she just confessed all of this due to the drunk mind.

“Oh dear, you have been through so much. I didn’t know. Regina and Madeleine have painted such a negative image of you. Now you have this scandal hanging over you. If you ever need to talk we can talk over wine. Just let me know.”

“Thank you. Excuse me. I’ll have to mingle with some other people - but i will take you up on that offer at some point.” Lying knowing she would never take the Duchess up with this offer, she left keeping her head held high.

******

The champagne was being swallowed easy as if it was water, slowly beginning to affect her. Finding Maxwell, he explained how he had accidentally hit the Turkish ambassador with some bruschetta- regretting missing the scene, she comforted him. Freya then noticed Drake in the corner, her drunk mind was encouraging to jump into his arms- she had a school girl crush on him even if he was an ass with her- always getting ‘lumbered’ with her.

“Why do you keep giving Drake dirty looks, then change it to a swoon?”

“Max shut up please.”

“Am I missing something here? I thought you was feeling down because we were back in New York?”

“It’s me that’s missing something- I’m missing brain cells. I’m in love with him and he hates my guts Max.” Maxwell tried to gain her attention by waving his hand next to his neck.

“In love with who?” The familiar voice asked as he crept up to the two friends.

“Oh, erm. Daniel. My ex colleague. I’m in love with him, in a best friend kinda way- always have been we’ve known each other since we were four. I saw him before and he’s still pissed that I abandoned him without any goodbye.”

“Oh, I see. Why do you look sheepish Maxwell?”

“Erm. Erm. Well the truth is Liam.... I just threw bruschetta all over the Turkish ambassador. Freya here, was just explaining that she lost her brain cells that day she left here, and that Daniel is mega pissed still.” Feeling thankful that Maxwell had agreed with her impromptu excuse- she knew he was going be demanding questions once they were alone.

“Very well. Don’t worry Lady Freya, I’m sure he will forgive you in time. I’ll see you both soon.”

Watching Liam leave, Maxwell grabbed her hand- leading her out of the venue and up to the rooftop for some privacy.

*****

“So?”

“So?” Freya mimicked Maxwell, in an annoying tone of manner, knowing he was going to be persistent until she told him the truth- the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

“Come on blossom, you can’t drop a bombshell like that then not talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to say Max, I’m stupidly in love with someone who would never return the feelings.”

“When did you....you know gain feelings for him?”

“Honestly, probably Lythikos I started to fall for him. I know I was supposed to fall Liam, and I did try - honestly I did Max. Then when I was thrown out of the coronation- I knew I was madly in love with Drake Walker. We have this love/hate relationship. Sometimes he’s a good friend, then he’s an arrogant pig...”

“Have you told him?” Shaking her head, she began to cry before composing herself. “When you guys were sleeping before, I saw him and we went shopping then ended up in my old bar. I told Daniel that Drake was ‘my hot date’ and he looked disgusted at me. Said that ‘he didn’t like me that much and always got lumbered with me’. Asking him if he couldn’t take a joke and asking why he was an ass with me- he was just cruel. So I left him- Max there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Shoot! I said I was always here for you. Drake’s just being Drake.”

“I know. Erm. I’ve been thinking a lot since we arrived back here...” Maxwell looked concerned, not knowing what she was going to say- but vibes were informing him that it wasn’t positive. “I don’t think I’m going to return to Cordonia. I’ve had a fantastic time, meeting you all- I’ve loved every second of it even with the scandal- life has to have that bit of drama in it right?”

“What? No you have to come back! You’re my sister. Fuck Drake. Please tell me it’s not to do with Drake? You have me and Hana.. and Bertrand... and Liam...”

“Max I will come and visit, I promise. But I can’t be around someone that I love who doesn’t return the feelings. I can’t be around Liam when he has confessed that he loves me. I’m a qualified nurse Max, earlier on I applied for a job in Vegas.”

******

Maxwell escorted Freya back to the hotel after her heart to heart with him. Furious that she didn’t want to return because of one person especially. Heading back to the party- everyone tried to reach out to him wondering where Freya was. His mind was set on finding Drake and giving him a piece of his mind. Anger building up inside of him- he knew he had to escort Drake somewhere private.

“Walker. I need a word. Follow me.” Drake looked bewildered to Maxwell’s out of character personality- he had never witnessed him looking like he was about to explode.

“What’s up Beaumont?”

“You see here? I’ve just had Freya emotionally break down here, confess things to me that I never knew about.”

“So what? Where is she anyway? You’re usually both glued to each other. At least I’m not lumbered with her tonight.” Drake needed to keep his feelings towards her a secret- knowing that everyone was trying to clear her name, if they managed to do this Drake knew that Liam would instantly propose to her. Before he could think about it anymore- he felt Maxwell’s fist against his jaw.

“She’s gone back to the hotel crying over you! I’ve lost my sister because of you. What has she ever done to you? I hope your jaw hurts, but it won’t be as much pain as what she’s going through!”

“Why have you lost her because of me? She was probably drunk, hence why she was emotional. She’s done nothing wrong to me Max.... it’s all a facade.” Drake rubbed his jaw- before furrowing his eyebrows. Maxwell noticed the change in expression before Drake elaborated. “The truth is... once her name gets cleared, Liam is going to propose to her. If she had any brain she would say yes...”

“No, she wouldn’t say ‘yes’ Drake. She’s madly in love with you.”

“I’m a nobody Max, she may think she loves me but she will soon realise it was never me that she apparently loves. I keep acting like a jerk, to push her away from me- because I don’t want to get hurt, or get my ‘ice cold heart’ shattered when she marries the King. I’m a jerk that is madly in love with Freya Johnson.”

[harley4l]

Chapter 11: Two can keep a secret ...

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ― Maya Angelou

Beginning / Previous / Next 

Daniel hadn’t always thought of Nelly DeSantis as horrible. When they were both little, about six and seven, their fathers often met for a glass of scotch at Prescott Estate and then Daniel, Spencer, Eleanor and Kara were more or less forced to play with each other. The Nelly he remembered had been quieter and less intolerable. One sunday while Spencer was away with his boy scouts, they sat on the swing of his porch together and listened to an old country song blaring through the opened kitchen window. I wish I had a brother, Nelly had said bluntly. It seemed so random that Daniel just scoffed. Why? When she shrugged, he added. It’s not that great. And he knew what he was talking about — for the past few months his relationship with Spencer had gotten worse and worse, despite Daniel’s efforts to be polite and unobtrusive. It seemed like Spencer had simply decided to hate him. It showed in the bruises on Daniel’s skin.

My sister is ... Nelly had started, but trailed off as Kara came running around the corner. Her hair was disheveled and her cheeks flushed with excitement. Spencer is back home, she’d giggled, grabbing her sister’s hand. Let’s go and flirt with him! Nelly held on to the swing. No, ew. The excitement in Kara’s face dissolved into slight irritation. Why not? He’s so cute! Daniel had glanced back and forth between the twins while they stared each other down, as if engaging in a silent argument. In the end, Nelly rolled her eyes. Fine! 

And off they went. It was one of his few memories before she turned into a spiteful monster. Despite this, all the boys in town had been crushing on Nelly and stood in line for a chance to date her. It seemed that Daniel was the only one unaffected by her alluring charme, due to her decicion to go steady with Spencer. At least that’s what he thought back then. On a scorching hot summer day when he was thirteen years old, he lazed on the couch with his best friend and traded Void Critter comics, their collectible cards sprawled in an unorganized mess on the floor. I am not interested in Eleanor either, Reed had proclaimed while flipping through the pages. Daniel grunted and the raspberry soda he was sipping was prickling in his nose. Not crushing on pretty princesses, huh?, he’d teased. Reed’s cheeks flushed a little. Well, no. I’m crushing on you! Daniel waited for the sike that never came. After a moment, he’d laughed out loud as if this could erase what Reed had said. For a few years, it seemed it did.

When Daniel was sixteen, he was invited to a bonfire barbecue with the cool kids of the Brindleton Private School and everyone brought their friends along so he’d brought Reed as well. His friend had never been a fan of cheerleaders and jocks, which was why they eventually trudged down the path from the woods to drink the cheap beer in their plastic cups at the docks. Daniel should have turned away, yet he just let it happen when Reed leaned over with a drunken grin and glassy eyes to kiss him. Let’s just pretend you didn’t do that, he muttered after the other boy pulled away. Why? Reed frowned. 

Why? Daniel glared it him. He belonged to Brindleton Bay’s high society and everyone there was the same. Girls were ultra skinny plastic dolls in high heels, boys were hyper successful jocks with immaculate white teeth and golden credit cards, and these boys and girls all dated each other. Boys did not date other boys. In fact, Daniel only knew one openly gay couple, the Heckings, who volunteered at the shipyard and sold seafood at the local market each week. The two men seemed nice, but the one time Daniel wanted to buy their shellfish sandwich his mother had pulled him away and muttered sternly: we don’t buy from people like that, Daniel. His parents had never made a secret of their thoughts regarding people who didn’t fit the social norm. If they ever came to think that Daniel was „like that“, they‘d send him off to a military boot camp in no time. 

I like girls, Daniel told Reed flatly.

But he should’ve known someone was always watching in this town. Back at the bonfire, Nelly had scooted close to him, her icy breath tickling his ear once no one was looking. Danny and Reed are sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, she’d cackled under her breath. And I’m going to tell everyone. Kiss popularity goodbye, Danny. When Daniel froze and stared at her she smirked, apparently very proud of herself for spying. However ... I might keep your scandalous little secret for a price. 

Nelly meant she wanted cash, and lots of it. Fifteen grand and she’d forget about the secret, so she promised. It was common knowledge in all of Brindleton Bay that a promise from Nelly was worth nothing, however in this case he had not much of a choice left. Sure, Daniel had kissed girls before, but his peers always had to set him up to it and some even told him it was weird how he was so disinterested, or how he hadn’t scored a girlfriend yet. Daniel always joked it was because he had such high expectations, but once Nelly was blabbing they were going to change their minds. People believed in everything coming from her mouth religiously, contradicting her was basically blasphemy. Eventually, Daniel supplied the simoleums to Nelly, expecting the matter would be done with it.

Nelly was already planning her next shopping trip on the phone, while she eagerly flicked through the cash. After she’d counted it twice she clicked her tongue. We’re not done yet. The fifteen grand were hush money regarding your little boyfriend, but you're a real treasure chest of secrets. The dirt I have on you alone is worth so much more. Her voice was filled with glee. You don’t know anything about me, Daniel spat. He’d pointed at the door. Now get out, or I swear ... Nelly cocked her head and watched him with those ultra blue eyes, a knowing smirk settling on her face. Of course I do. I know who you really are, Danny. She’d shifted closer and whispered it into his ear.

I wish I had a brother, Nelly had told him, back when he thought she’d been a decent person. Except now he viewed this memory in a different light. Her gaze had not been wistful, but cold and calculating. Even as a seven year old kid, she had been rotten to her core. His existence had been an elaborate joke to her and she couldn’t wait to deliver the punchline. Her relationship with Spencer had allowed her to go in and out of his house for years and according to Nelly, his mother had been entertaining an affair with her father for sixteen years and counting. And congrats, you’re their love baby, she’d purred. She’d sworn up and down that she had top secret evidence of the affair on her phone which she would leak to all of Brindleton Bay in case he didn’t transfer 130.000 simoleums to her bank account. While Daniel refused to believe the absurdity of her assertion, he was cautious to call her “proof” a bluff. What was going to happen if it wasn’t? Would his parents divorce? Would his dad never speak to him again? He loathed himself for being so gutless, but he ended up transfering the entirety of his college funds to her, hoping she would finally be satisfied and shut up.

The weekend before summer vacation, Daniel put together a party to celebrate his designation as captain of the school’s basketball team. He’d explicity invited a handful of people who he thought might have some dirt on Nelly, but it turned out she was very careful with her own secrets. When being questioned about her private life, most people answered with frowns and blank faces, even Nelly’s friends. It seemed as if the whole town knew Nelly, but at the same time they didn’t know anything about her. He’d more or less given up when Zoe Westerberg, a girl he attended biology class with, started to dance very close to him. She swayed her hips suggestively and winked. Daniel instinctively scanned the room for Nelly’s prescence and caught her gaze at the bar where she whispered with Jillian and Rachel. He returned Zoe’s smile, grabbed her hand and twirled her around. Nelly’s eyebrows tilted upwards as she watched them dance together. Yeah, look at that, bitch, Daniel wished he could shout. I’m flirting with a girl. As if reading his mind, Nelly got up and stalked towards them. She didn’t spare another look at him, just put a hand on Zoe’s arm. Hun, won’t you come join me and the girls? I think Daniel isn’t for you. Zoe stopped dancing, the question mark almost visible on her face. Excuse me? Nelly smirked at Zoe, stretching out her next words delightfully. You should know, Daniel isn’t into girls! Her voice was so shrill even the people in the back of the room had to hear it. Daniel drew in a sharp breath, his mind coming to a screeching halt. Nelly‘s mouth was moving, she was saying something else but all he could hear was a deafening ringing in his ears. He could feel his face burning with shame. Leave, he croaked, or perhaps he yelled it because the boys he‘d hired as security came to escort Nelly outside. Even as she was being pulled away she was laughing, her eyes wide open and flashing with spitefulness. They were of the same shade of blue as his own and he hated it. He hated that she was right, not only about what she’d just said but about everything else as well. He hated her because she didn’t care. He hated himself for doing just that.

I wished Nelly was dead, he told Reed as they were throwing horseshoes in the woods. It was the end of summer and the leaves were turning scarlet mixed with dirty browns. Reed picked up the iron he‘d thrown and shot him a stern look. You don’t mean that. But those thoughts were swarming his mind like a mantra. I wished Nelly was dead. I. wished. Nelly. was. dead. 

In winter, Nelly turned seventeen and as their friends and business partners, his family was forced to attend the celebration. After some second guessing, Daniel had brought Rachel along and Nelly had said nothing about her. Months ago during a chilly summer evening, they’d sat on the couch eating popcorn and waited to watch a movie with Spencer, when Rachel had leaned in close. You’re cute, she breathed against his cheek. He thought of his brother, who was getting ready for his girlfriend upstairs, then he thought of Reed and that his mother thought Daniel couldn’t be like that. If he was pretending to be someone else until the end of time, why not try and get back at his brother? A door was slammed shut upstairs — and Daniel had ignored his gut and moved to kiss Rachel.

Nelly had shot Rachel a blank look when she entered her house holding hands with Daniel, other than that she’d completely ignored them and tended to her presents. They had barely exchanged words since that incident and Daniel got the impression that she regarded the extortion as done, after all she’d been paid generous money despite spilling his secret anyway. Well, he wasn’t done with her. It had taken literal months to outlast the aftermath of her announcement at his party. Kids had snickered and whispered wherever he went, his pals had teased him to no end and his teammates had even considered revoking his title as captain, apparently afraid the gay was going to „rub off onto them“. But the worst thing was that his parents, after they’d inevitably caught wind of the matter, had not spoken a single word to Daniel for two weeks—he almost choked on his water when his dad announced at dinner he hoped the rumor was't going to hurt his political campaign. Daniel had repeated over and over again that he was straight, that Nelly was lying, but the talk had only truly died after he started going steady with Rachel. If he learned anything from this, it was how unaccepting the town truly was. 

After dinner had been served, Daniel and his brother got drunk on booze and Rachel ended up leaving early as it became clear he wasn’t going to spend time with her. At one point, Daniel walked out onto the porch to smoke when he caught sight of Nelly’s silhouette in the kitchen window. She seemed to argue with her friend, her arms were gesticulating wildly and her cheeks were flushed angrily. He dragged at his cigarette and watched her through the frosted window. Nelly seemed to notice something and her movements became slower, distracted. She stared at the window, a strange look settling on her face. She looked almost ... fearful. Daniel exhaled and flicked the burnt stump of his cigarette away. He turned to walk inside when he was sure he heard her laughter, high pitched and hysterical. Something in his head snapped white, hot and painful and he felt his feet slowing to an halt. The hazy fog around his eyes cleared and when he breathed out into the darkness he felt completely calm. He kept walking, but not back inside.

He’d woken up with a hangover the following morning not quite remembering how he’d gotten into bed. His head was throbbing in pain and his muscles felt sore. As he’d scrambled out of bed, he noticed his brother leaning in the doorframe. Mom and Dad are waiting downstairs, they want to talk to us about Nelly before the detectives come over, Spencer had informed him dryly. When Daniel asked why detectives were coming over, Spencer gaped at him, his brown eyes flashing with anger. Because Nelly was freaking murdered? Not funny, you dumbass. He’d slammed the door shut with a bang before Daniel had the chance to process this. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the world seemed to spin. Nelly was ... dead? He tried to recall the past evening, but there was a strange void in his head. Nothing about this was funny. Despite of it, he realized he was smiling.

Three days after the incident, Reed had approached him in the locker room after sports. He‘d held a white card in his hand. Can’t believe I was actually invited to her funeral, he’d admitted. Daniel snorted. Apparently the DeSantis‘ sent out invitation cards to everyone in town, even the people who had never spoken to Nelly in her life. For a split second, a worried expression had crossed Reed‘s face. You didn’t have anything to do with what happened to her ... did you? The words hung in the air like a dark cloud while Daniel pulled off his sneakers and shoved them under the bench beneath him. Perhaps, he‘d shrugged. When his friend‘s face paled however, he flashed a nervous smile. Not really. I‘m kidding silly! And as if to prove a point, he stood and pressed a kiss on Reed‘s cold lips. They tasted like cigarettes and lemon soda. No one would ever know about that though. Because Nelly was gone and everything she’d known about them had been erased with her like dirty old chalk washed from a board. The day after her murder, Daniel had noticed a weird scratch under his jaw in the mirror as he was brushing his teeth. He had no idea where he’d gotten that and it was making him a little nervous. He sincerely hoped he didn’t remember because he'd been hungover, and that was all. There’d been a period in time when he was a child and things between Spencer and him had gotten so bad that Spencer was physically hurting him when their parents had noticed Daniel kept forgetting huge chunks of time. When they first asked about the bruises on his arms and legs, he couldn’t recall where he’d gotten them. This happened a number of times, so his parents took him to a psychologist who examined Daniel’s behavior and told his parents that the memory loss was caused by high emotional stress or unprocessed trauma. 

While Daniel wasn’t an expert, murdering somebody would most likely fall into one of those categories. If he actually killed Nelly and blocked out the memory he wasn’t going to shed tears about it now. This bitch had absolutely deserved it. Yet as Daniel turned away from Reed and shoved his bag into his locker, there was a bitter taste in his mouth and a dull ache in his chest. No, he reprimanded himself. All she had ever done was sabotage him and everyone he loved. Her death wasn’t sad. It was good. He’d slammed the locker shut. 

The dreaded day of Nelly’s funeral came. Her best friend Kirsten held a speech and somehow told everyone with a straight face what an inspiring girl and great friend Nelly had been. Everyone cried, even Daniel‘s cousin Rebecca who‘d said to his face that she wished Nelly gone. The hypocrisy was absolutely baffling. After the service, Daniel and his family had to pass the DeSantis at the archway on their way out. Nelly‘s mother was sobbing into a handkerchief while his dad briefly exchanged words with Nelly‘s father. Nelly’s younger sister Miranda glanced through the church with red, puffy eyes. Her twin sister Kara held her chin high while absentmindedly patting Miranda‘s shoulder. Her gaze seemed bleary, but as she caught Daniel staring her eyes narrowed with such a blunt hatred that the hairs on his neck stood on end. Outside the church, his father smoothed his immaculate black suit. The poor girl, he sighed dejectedly. What a pity, his mother chimed in, though her face didn’t look particularly pitying. Yeah, Spencer muttered. Daniel said nothing.

Because right then, everything was finally how it should be. He was still dating Rachel. He was still Daniel Prescott and he was with his family — his mother, his father and his brother. Just the four of them.

Without Nelly.

Next Chapter: The sister named Kara

[moonlightmadnessreviews]

Ready or Not (2019) : There’s No Crying in Hide and Seek!

When I first saw the coming attractions for Ready or Not, I felt it was the perfect mix of a classic Twilight Zone concept and the modern “hunter be hunted” genre of film popularized by The Purge and You’re Next. I thought I had Ready or Not’s card pulled before the movie even started, but directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett played a very different game from the one I was expecting.

The premise for the movie is quite simple: Newly-wed bride Grace Le Domas (Samara Weaving) must play a game on the night of her wedding in order to be accepted by her new family, only to find that these 1 percenters must kill her before sunrise in order to hold up their end of a bargain made with none other than the devil himself. As I said, the movie has a really simple concept, and one that’s honestly fleshed out pretty well in the trailers (most trailers now a days give up too much info anyway), so I went into it feeling like I had a solid grasp on what I was in for. Despite this, I was really excited to see Weaving fight her way through the family members, taking them out 1 by 1! Besides, for the most part, horror movies tend not to disappoint when it comes to their final girls.

Weaving first caught my attention with her starring role as murderous Satanic babysitter (oh, how the tables have turned) in 2017’s The Babysitter. I felt that movie would not have been tolerable if not for Weaving and co-star Judah Lewis as Cole, as the rest of the cast was made up of characters I couldn’t wait to see killed off. Weaving has a charm and wittiness to her, playing Grace as genuinely as possible once you consider her predicament, and her comedic timing plays really well in this movie. I also enjoyed Mark O’Brien’s portrayal of Grace’s new husband Alex Le Domas, and the way his character sat in contrast to Adam Brody’s Daniel Le Domas. Beside’s Grace, I feel Daniel has the best character arc in the movie and I really must say that, as much as I’ve never really like Adam Brody in any of his other roles (does he just play the role of insufferable jerk that well?!), he does a great job here playing a very conflicted character. The rest of the Le Domas clan is rounded out by Henry Czerny as father Tony, Andie McDowell as mom Becky, Nicky Guadagni as the hysterically menacing Aunt Helene, Melanie Scrofano and Elyse Levesque as sisters Emilie and Charity and finally brother in law Fitch Bradley played by Kristian Bruun.

Thankfully, for a movie about a murderous game of Hide and Seek, the tone leans more towards black comedy than gritty horror. The movie really doesn’t take itself too seriously, giving Weaving plenty of room to kick, scream and curse up a storm any time she’s shot at or left screaming for help on the side of the road. By the end of the movie she’s left communicating in a series of grunts and growls, but what would you expect from someone who’s had a wedding night as rough as hers? Aunt Helene and Fitch also work as great comedic relief, one looking like a real life Roz from Monster’s Inc, the other looking like a distant relative of Otho from Beetlejuice.

Being rated R, the movie does have a good deal of blood and gore. There’s a running joke each time a member of the staff is accidentally killed, and the last 10 minutes reminded me of the Blood Rave in Blade. One scene in particular had me cringing, as Grace must pull her way out of a pit of decaying goat carcasses, only to slam her hand down on a nail at the last minute. Don’t worry though-there’s a hole in her hand that fits that nail perfectly! Despite this though, the movie spends way more time on the Deal with the Devil storyline than the 1 on 1 kills I was hoping for. Between the previews for the movie and the hints littered throughout the opening scene, it’s pretty obvious the souls and fortune of the Le Domas family are at stake, making it feel redundant when we keep going back to arguments about what will happen if Grace isn’t killed before sunrise.

Though I would have loved to see Grace go full Rambo on the family, it wouldn’t have felt right for the character that the script (written by Guy Busick and R. Christopher Murphy) presents to us. In You’re Next, the character of Erin (Sharni Vinson) was raised in a survivalist commune, so it makes sense for her to use that upbringing to fight her way out of her situation. Grace, however, is completely out of her element. She’s simply trying to make it out alive and pushing herself to do so without the usual flash of an action star. This isn’t to say Grace isn’t a badass in her own right, but there are no cool one-liners here, safe for the very end, to make the character feel larger than life.

2019s Ready or Not turned out to be much different from what I expected, but I still had a really fun time watching it! Admittedly, I do feel like I spent some time waiting for it to pick up a bit. It would have benefitted from less time spent explained the overarching Satanic backstory and more moments like the goat pit scene. That being said, there is plenty of humor to keep you engaged, a few moments that will have you wincing in pain right along with Weaving, a surprising amount of emotion thanks to Brody’s character and (by the end) plenty of blood! If you go into this movie with an open mind, Ready or Not will be way more fun than you’d think, and more fun still than trying to figure out what the hell kind of game Old Maid is!

Rating: 3.5 Full Moons out of 5 🌕🌕🌕🌗