#everything feels like its on hold here awaiting the result

[pynkhues]

Good luck to all my American mutuals and followers today. I'm thinking of all of you, and hoping your votes and your voices carry this thing home 💖

[talesofesther]

hold me in your comfort

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Your studies have been taking a toll on you, luckily your boyfriend comes to the rescue.

Requested by anon

A/N: A sweet little thing for my favorite sweet boy. Hope you like it. P.S. I hate coming up with summaries, I promise the story is better. <3

Masterlist

For once, Gryffindor's common room was quiet. During the day the place was mostly buzzing with chatter and spells being thrown around, however now, a good few hours past curfew, the only sounds were the crackling of the fireplace and the distinct howling wind outside.

The red and golden colors around you provided a sense of comfort, familiarity; as you sat on the spacious floor of the room, your back resting against the couch, and quill scraping against the paper, you tried to focus on those feelings. Your O.W.Ls were fast approaching, and earlier this year you had received a letter from home kindly reminding you of the consequences that awaited you if the results were less than pleasing.

Being an only daughter made your parents demand excellence in everything you did, especially regarding your studies. For nearly two weeks now, you'd spent most of your time with your head buried in a book and writing down assignment after assignment; constant headaches became your new normal and your wrist was usually sore by the end of each day. You were nearing your limit, or maybe you had even already reached it.

The comfortable silence of the lonely room was suddenly disrupted by the padding of socks hitting the wood of the stairs. You glanced up and behind you to see who had gotten up at this hour of the night only to see your boyfriend walking into the common room. Fred moved sluggishly, mind clearly still hazy and drowsy with sleep; he rubbed his eyes while stifling a yawn, his hair was all over the place too, and he wore a dark red sweater with the letter 'F' in its center.

The small smile that came to your lips was inevitable. Your heart fluttered inside your chest just by the sight of him.

With a soft scrunch on his eyebrows, Fred willed his eyes to focus on the dim light of the room, his gaze instantly landing on you; "I figured I'd find you here," he hummed.

You chuckled softly, your eyes shying away from his gaze, "you caught me."

Fred plopped down on the floor next to you, the handsome outlines of his features being highlighted in a golden hue from the fireplace in front of you. He shuffled closer until his lips clumsily touched your cheek in a gentle kiss. "It's a bit too late for all that, isn't it love?" Fred motioned to the mess of books and papers in front of you.

You grimaced, subconsciously leaning towards him; "I'll be done in just a moment, promise."

"You said that before we all headed to bed," Fred reasoned, you could hear the masked concern in his words, "that was hours ago."

With the most gentle touch only you had the privilege of knowing, Fred pushed back strands of your hair so he had a clear view of your face. He didn't say anything, but you knew he was accessing the darker circles under your eyes, the slight cracking of your lips, the glazing of your eyes. He made you feel faint with the way he looked at you with such palpable love. You could feel it even without meeting his gaze. Fred's thumb brushed against your cheek and you nearly broke down then and there. Nearly.

But oh you were so tired, part of you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and just forget about the rest of the world.

A beat passed in silence and then Fred managed to sneak behind you, fitting himself between you and the couch, his long legs stretching on either side of you while both his arms encircled your waist.

A soft smile came to your lips against your own volition. Fred had always been a physically affectionate person; whether it was hugs or his pinkie hooked with yours, he'd be touching you whenever he could. His presence instantly lifted a bit of the weight on your shoulders, the letters written on the paper in your hands seemed shuffled all of a sudden and you couldn't bring yourself to read them anymore. But you didn't mind, you simply allowed yourself to melt against him.

Squeezing your body to him, Fred nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, planting a feather-light kiss on the skin there. It was okay if you didn't feel like talking, he'd be content to hold you for the rest of the night if you so needed.

Reveling in his presence, all warm and sweet, you leaned back so your head rested on his shoulder. You rewarded his affection with one of your own, your lips finding his temple and planting a lingering kiss there.

Quill and paper fell from your grasp, your fingers coming up to brush against the skin of Fred's hands.

Fred hummed, you could feel his small smile on your skin. "Take a break, love?"

"Yeah," you held your breath, chest tight, and cleared your throat in order for your voice not to come out as tender as you felt. As he made you feel. "I suppose that's a good idea."

Fred's answer was to squeeze you even tighter, burying himself into you and making you giggle. You had missed him, now that you come to think of it; you've been focusing so much on your studies that your time with him had been cut by half. For nearly two weeks, there were no more hang outs in the courtyards, no more sneaking around between classes, no more dates to hogsmeade, no more pranking the teachers together; you still spent time together of course, but those precious moments had disappeared, and now it felt like a stab in the heart.

As if your souls couldn't be more intertwined, Fred mumbled; "I've missed you, you know." His face still hidden between your neck and shoulder.

You bit your lip before answering, turning around slightly in his arms so you could face him more properly. "I've missed you too, I'm sorry Freddie, for being so distant lately. I never meant for that to happen," you tried to gulp back any rogue tears that tried to escape.

Fred raised his head so he could look into your eyes. The room was dimly lit, with mostly the fireplace as a source of light; his own eyes seemed to be shining brighter now. "It's alright love," his hand found your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing away a single tear you didn't realize had fallen, "I know this is important to you, I just think you should take a break, that's all." Fred finished with a sweet smile you could never get enough of.

The love you felt for him escaped you as you leaned forward and pecked his lips with your own. You held Fred's face with both your hands, squishing his cheeks as you placed several more kisses on his lips until his smile became too big for you to continue.

"May I stay with you tonight?" You whispered, pulling back just far enough to utter the words, your lips still grazing his.

"I would love nothing more," Fred said, and you kissed the words yet again.

The taste of your own tears mingled between your lips, you kept your eyes closed then, feeling the thundering of your own heart against your ribs.

The steady rhythm of Fred's breathing and the distant crackling of the fire was suddenly all you could hear. His gentle fingertips traced your cheek and jawline, and suddenly his touch was all you could feel too.

"Do you wanna know something?"

The entrancing tone of Fred's voice cut into the calmness. You simply nodded, bunching up his sweater between your hands. You could feel one of his hands holding your back, tracing your spine and keeping your body close to him.

"You are the most brilliant witch I know," he promised, and then chuckled; "just don't let Hermione hear that."

A smile threatened to show on your lips, your nose bumped his.

Fred's lips traced a path from your jawline, to your cheek, and to your forehead; leaving confessions with each kiss. An I love you here, a you got this there.

With both of you as a mess of tangled limbs on the floor of Gryffindor's common room, you too promised you loved him a thousand times over. You also promised a long overdue date to hogsmeade.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Fred’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey.... first I would like to thank you for writing such an amazing stories about football players... especially kenan yildiz fics... they're too good.....

Can you write something about him and reader she has like successful career... for example like field of pharmacy.... but has her own company etc for making products and medicine.... something like beauty and brain kinda energy.... and most of the time she's wearing suits... in which she looks powerful and intimidating I guess, and he is feeling proud of her as her boyfriend... and supporting her....

Thank you...

THE LAUNCH - KENAN YILDIZ

Its always nice to have your partner support your dreams

Kenan Yildiz x fashion designer! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The venue was abuzz with excitement, the energy in the room palpable as fashion enthusiasts, industry professionals, and celebrities mingled, awaiting the start of my latest runway show.

This was the biggest launch for Y/N Fashion House yet, and I felt a mix of pride and nerves.

Kenan stood off to the side, looking handsome in his tailored suit, a proud smile on his face as he watched me work the room.

Our eyes met, and he gave me a little wave, making my heart flutter with a mix of love and excitement.

I walked over to him, my heels clicking against the polished floor. "Hey, you," I greeted, feeling a bit more at ease now that I was by his side.

"Hey, yourself," he replied, pulling me in for a quick kiss on the cheek. "You look amazing tonight, and this whole event is incredible. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," I said, blushing slightly. "It means a lot to have you here."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world. Besides," he added with a wink, "I love seeing you in your element. You’re so powerful and intimidating in your professional clothes. It's incredibly sexy."

I laughed, playfully swatting his arm. "You're too much, Kenan."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Seriously, though, I'm in awe of you. You've built this amazing brand from the ground up, and tonight is the climax of all that hard work. How do you feel?"

I took a deep breath, glancing around the room. "Honestly? I feel a mix of everything. Excited, nervous, proud. But having you here makes it all a little easier."

Kenan's expression softened, and he squeezed my hand. "You're going to knock it out of the park. Just like you always do."

Just then, a member of my team approached, and I reluctantly let go of Kenan's hand to greet them. "Excuse me for a moment," I said to Kenan. "Duty calls."

He nodded, giving me an encouraging smile. "Go get 'em, tiger."

As the show started, I focused on the models showcasing my latest designs, the applause and gasps of admiration filling the room.

Every now and then, I glanced back at Kenan, who was chatting with a few of my business associates, that he was standing next to.

He looked completely at ease, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for his unwavering support.

After the final model had walked the runway and the applause had reached its peak, I took a deep breath. It was my turn to step out and soak in the applause.

With my heart pounding, I walked out onto the runway, the lights bright and warm as they focused on me.

The applause grew louder, and I smiled, waving to the crowd. It was a surreal moment, standing there, knowing that all of this was a result of my hard work and dedication.

I spotted Kenan in the crowd, his eyes shining with pride, and it made the moment even more special.

Later in the evening, after the applause had died down and the guests were mingling again, I found a quiet moment with Kenan near the backstage area. "How are you holding up?" he asked, handing me a glass of champagne.

"Better now," I admitted, taking a sip. "The show went well, and the feedback has been great so far."

He clinked his glass against mine. "To your incredible success and many more launches to come."

"To us," I corrected, feeling a rush of affection for him. "I couldn't have done this without your support, you know."

Kenan shook his head. "This is all you, Y/N. Your talent, your vision. I'm just lucky to be along for the ride."

I smiled, feeling a swell of gratitude and love. "And I'm lucky to have you by my side."

As the night wound down and the guests began to leave, Kenan and I found ourselves alone in the now-quiet venue.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "So, Mrs. Fashionista, what's next on the agenda?"

I leaned into him, feeling content and happy. "I think the next step is a little less work and a little more relaxation. Maybe a vacation?"

Kenan grinned. "That sounds perfect. Anywhere in mind?"

"Somewhere warm and quiet, where we can just be together," I suggested.

"Done," he said, kissing the top of my head. "But first, let's get you home. You've had a big night, and you deserve a good night's rest."

"You're right," I agreed, feeling the exhaustion of the evening start to catch up with me. "Thank you for being here, Kenan. I couldn't have asked for a better partner."

He smiled down at me, his eyes filled with love. "Always, Y/N. Always."

[twistedsamuraiadvice]

Dear Fulbright, I hope this letter finds you well. As I sit here, pondering over the complexities of life, an intriguing question comes to mind, one that provokes deep contemplation and elicits a range of conflicting emotions. It is a hypothetical scenario that invites us to consider our priorities and the values we hold dear.

Imagine, if you will, a world where justice prevails, where righteousness is unwavering, and peace reigns supreme. In this realm, however, there exists a heartbreaking twist - the sacrifice of a beloved person, Simon Blackquill in order to achieve this seemingly unattainable utopia. The question arises: would we be willing to pay such a steep price to bring about what so many yearn for?

Balancing this proposition is another alternate reality, where every criminal is allowed to roam free, their nefarious actions unchecked and unpunished. Yet, in this chaotic state, you are revered like a deity, treated with awe and unwavering admiration. Without doubt, this would stroke our ego and provide an immense sense of power, but at what cost to our own morality and the wellbeing of society?

Reflecting on these two options, I find myself pulled in different directions. The allure of stamping out injustice and creating a fair world where righteousness thrives is undeniable. However, the idea of cherishing and preserving human life, Simon Blackquill with whom we have shared countless memories and cherished moments, is undeniably heart-wrenching.

Conversely, in a world where criminals roam free but revere us as a godlike figure, we must question the consequences. Would such unrestrained freedom result in societal collapse, a dystopian nightmare where morality loses its way? Moreover, can the adulation of others truly replace the need for a just and balanced world?

As I struggle to decide between these complex alternatives, I recognize that life rarely offers such clear-cut choices. The pursuit of justice should be at the heart of our actions, driven not by personal gain or self-importance, but by a genuine desire to create a better world. However, the price we pay, particularly when it involves the loss of a cherished being, cannot be easily dismissed or taken lightly.

In the end, my dear Detective, the question lingers, unanswered but not forgotten. It serves as a constant reminder of the intricate dilemmas life presents us, urging us to question our values, our sense of duty, and ultimately, the legacy we leave behind. Perhaps, instead of choosing one extreme or the other, we should strive to find a balance, where justice prevails while cherishing every individual life, never forgetting the worth of one soul, even in pursuit of a greater good.

May this letter spark a thoughtful contemplation within you, as it did for me. I eagerly await your perspective, knowing that our shared discussions always deepen my understanding of life's intricacies.

With warm regards,

Umi Teardrop

Dear Teardrop,

First, I'm sorry it's taken some time to respond, I know it's a long wait, but I really wanted to sit with this.

As....naive as it sounds, there was a time where I really thought Justice would always prevail, bad things happened, but good would win out in the end. Like how it always did in stories, everything would look dark, but then something would change, there'd be some hero at the end of it.

W...when my father left, I told myself it was better that way, because my grandparents were good people, who loved me, and someday... someday my parents would realize they loved me too, and if they didn't....there'd be justice, somehow. I was never sure how, just that they'd be sorry. Really I just wanted to stop feeling like there was something wrong with me, because that was the only other option, and it hurt.

I think that's part of the reason I wanted to reform Blackquill....sure, he had been sentenced, but if he changed his ways, then it wouldn't be just anymore to kill him. And he was good, deep down, so shouldn't we try?

Then someone else came, and I found out how much evil there really was in the world.

No one even noticed I was gone.

....And sure, it came out in the end. They found me, eventually.

But...was that really winning? People died, Blackquill went to prison, Miss Cykes had her whole life uprooted, and for what?

What was it all for?

.....

I do believe in justice. There is good in the world. But it's not what I thought. We have to fight for it, there isn't some....force out there, making it happen.

It's in the hands of people. Normal, every day people. Not heros. Just people.

I'm sorry, I think I got off topic. I need to sit down.

In...justice, we trust.

-Bobby Fulbright

[shylilbunny15]

Writing Prompts

Prompt 1: Villain x Hero

C.W. Aquaphobia, Thalassophobia, Suggestive, Violence, Angst, Blood.

Perhaps this was the answer! Villain thought to himself. Exhilaration was pumping throughout Villain's body. Giving him a true high. It was only an hour ago Villain was worried he wouldn't be able to go through with this.

"Are you ready to give me an answer"? Villain grinned, velvet and malice in his voice as he pulled Hero to the surface, hands still wrapped around her neck.

Hero gasped for air, trying to hold on to Villain's arm. Hero wasn't sure how much more she could take. She was freezing in the cold lake; any attempt to push villain from off of her would result in another episode of brutal blows to her body like the other 7 times proved. Coughing, shivering, bleeding all of this was driving her crazy, not to mention the constant close calls to drowning Villain was putting her through but, the cherry on top of this horrible cake of torture was the ringing in her ears. This ringing that she couldn't tell was from being doused in water until she couldn't breathe, or from Villain's beatings upon her figure. The ringing the made Hero lightheaded. The ringing that caused Hero to fight the acid conjuring in her throat. The ringing...the damn ringing that drove Hero to have this pounding headache- like having a cinder block broken upon your head. Hero knew she was running out of time. That whatever Villain was doing, she'd have to think of a counter before her mind left her incoherent.

"Well"? Villain pushed. "I'd like an answer; quite rude of you to ignore me". Grip tightening around Hero's neck, leading her to meet Villain's Gaze.

". . ." Panting and Shivers were all Villain got. "You know...it feels great. Seeing you in such a distraught state. I could get used to this. I'm sure you feel it as well. Adrenaline rushing through your veins.. doesn't seem to be doing much in your case".

An annoyed sigh escapes Hero's lips.

"We both know I could end it here. However, I'm being patient and awaiting your answer, dear". Villain's face was showing some concern aside from what was possible annoyance. Villain felt bad about doing this to their poor Hero, but he knew in the end, he was doing it for her own good. It was all good. From the plan of baiting Hero in by running into the snow coated forest, to knocking Hero down with a quick blow on the head, and now all Hero had to do was give their answer. Of course..Villain want an answer, but..Villain wanted "The Answer" upon which they were looking for. Either way, the result would ultimately be the same, Hero didn't need to know that of course.

"Take...a fine guess"! Hero snarled, coughing up a mixture of their own blood and the lake water. Assuming this was an answer to Villain's previous question, a sly smile made its way to Villain's face.

"Oh..but I'd love to hear it upon your lips"~ Villain cooed.

Hero's voice grew sharp, and tired. " "Fuck..yo-" was all Hero managed to get out before being submerged into the lake again.

Villain on top of Hero, the hold on her starting to bruise Hero's neck.

Villain's Gaze upon Hero struggling violently to come to surface was almost soulless. Though his eyes held anger, desire, obsession, yet pity.

"Such a shame.." Villain trailed. "Vulgarities come out of the most beautiful things...it'd be better if you used those lips to answer correctly instead".

It was painful. Everything hurt. Hero was tired, her muscles tense and aching, head spinning and pounding, but wasn't it better? Hero couldn't possibly give in to Villain..could she? No one in their right mind would agree to such an arrangement! It was simple though. Hero agrees to go with Villain- wherever that may be; villain takes care of Hero and as long as Hero obeys and listens like a "good Hero" Villain would consider taking their crime doing at a slower pace. Villain implied a strict "no deal breaking" at the end of his offer, but wouldn't that be Hero's freedom on the line? That's it- there's no way!

Yet here she was reliving a trauma. Maybe I could just let go..here. Hero thought. There it was. For a few moments Hero's thrashing and fighting resistance stopped.

Villain seemed to take notice, but didn't falter.

Ahh...but the others. The city still needs protecting. Promises made, friends in the process of being made, many depending on Hero. Could I even call myself a Hero regardless of how many times I've saved the nation if I just give up?

Pain, burning on her insides, muscles aching, body littered with bruises, cuts and scrapes, but none of it mattered, compared to the burning in her chest. Not just from holding her breath, but also from a feeling of determination. That was it! The adrenaline had sided with her body, giving Hero a rush of strength.

With the last bit of strength Hero had, she sprung up, breaking to the surface of the lake. Fist colliding with Villain's nose.

Villain's hold on Hero's neck broke away, as he stumbled back a few steps, hand already drenched in crimson. Droplets of blood falling into the lake; tainting the clear, subzero, water.

Villain's expression exhibiting raw yearning, infatuation and enthusiasm. His eyes said it "raving manic".

As quick as villain had made eye contact with Hero, so had his fist with Hero's stomach. With Hero on her knees, Villain attempted to submerge the weakened Hero once again. Only this time, Hero seemed to be putting up more of a fight, even though it did take everything she had in her to do so.

"Oh, Come now, Dear; This is absurd"! Villain scoffed. Irritation beyond clear.

Hero was burning with rage. What had she done to have such an act driven upon her?! Hero managed to grab hold of Villain's shirt, flipping them over with Hero on top now.

"You're weak"! Villain taunted as he took Hero by the wrist, pulling her close. Swift and hard Villain head-butt Hero, allowing himself to maneuver his leg and send Hero tumbling into the water.

Villain rose up eyes locked on Hero's form. He couldn't help but laugh. "Can't you see it"?! Villain gave a genuine smile. "Your condition is only worsening, you're on the verge of crumbling, I know it hurts, and yet...you're still going- still..fighting".

Hero stood up, legs shaking, breath ragged, and mind screaming to just give up.

"That is why I'm doing this. Even when death has its hands around you, you still fight. That burning fire in you. I don't know where you get it from. So passionate, only for it to become a wildfire such as now".

Hero remained still trying to keep her balance, listening to Villain. "M-My...my will to live. So, that's what's driving you to do this".

"Not quite-"

"Insane". Hero mumbled.

"What"? Villain questioned.

"you're fucking insane"!! Hero shouted, hysterically; laughter of the same form soon followed.

Villain watched, a frown exhibit as he watched Hero curiously. "You're not well..come with me". No wonder she didn't say anything, she was confused! Villain had figured it out. Hero needs his help, to be taken care of, and it could only be him. Villain! Besides Hero wouldn't have to worry about the crime when they had villain with them. Anyone else who dares to hurt his Hero, well..let's just say he would make sure they could never do so again.

Bangs covered Hero's eyes as she started to shake. Not just from freezing, but what seemed to be anger. Hero let out a shaky breath. "No..". Hero breathed.

"No"? Villain repeated.

"you wanted an answer..there it is." Hero began to stagger, holding her stomach.

Villain watched the Hero as though looking at a complex game of chess. Lost in thought. "Perhaps a bit more convincing is required". Villain said, making his way to Hero.

Hero prepared herself for whatever attack Villain would try. Though, once Villain reached Hero, he didn't attempt to hit her. "I'm not going with you" Hero implied, standing her ground.

Villain gave a tiresome sigh. "I see now. It's that spiteful fight in you; suppose I'll just have to tone it down a bit" Villain muttered, tightening his glove.

Maybe it was Villain's swift movements or maybe it was Hero's current condition, but she'd barely been able to see him move before sending a punch straight into her chest. Knocking the breath right out of Hero, sending her into the lake once again, submerged.

Villain took hold of Hero's neck, looking down at Hero thrashing underneath him, trying to come to surface. Hero tried everything their mind would allow. Kicking, pushing, scratching. Nothing was working.

There it is. Like a switch. Flick! Hero couldn't comprehend or think, she'd fallen numb. Releasing her hold from Villain, Hero's body went limp.

After a moment, Villain brought Hero to surface. Watching half lidded eyes blink at the sudden light.

"I don't intend to kill my prize. Like anyone would..I'll take very good care of it" Villain mocked, his voice smooth and oddly enthusiastic.

Hero couldn't take it anymore, the shivering, aching muscles, tired eyes..and of course the bothersome ringing. Hero gave way to the darkness consuming their eye sight, falling unconscious.

Part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/shylilbunny15/744971270168379392/writing-prompts?source=share

[speedytimemachineblizzard]

**PLEASE READ AND PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME** IM FEELING DEFEATED, Although HE IS CURRENTLY IN JAIL AWAITING A JUDGE FOR MORE DEFINITE SENTENCING, I FEEL LIKE HE WILL STILL SOMEHOW GET OUT WITHIN A WEEK, AS CRAZY AS THAT SOUNDS...ITS HAPPENED MORE TIMES THAN I COULD COUNT. REACHING OUT ON HERE IS ONE OF LAST RESORTS. I STILL DONT FEELL SAFE. AND NEITHER DO MY KIDS. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! Praying this will finally be the time they keep him locked up, but not feeling too confident.

Karma AT it's absolute finest was served on the very FIRST DAY OF 2024 too for a certain person I know. Today was Veda's 7th birthday, but this certain someone decided he had wanted to celebrate his way. All of my tires are now slashed, so as a result of that and not having the funds bc of back to back December birthdays and Christmas, I couldn't purchase tires, we couldn't take Veda out to celebrate her special day. She woke up to cops having to be called. My friends tires were also slashed, also this person stole my friend's debit card and car keys. I could go on and on but 6 charges currently, most definitely 7 when he is seen by a judge tomorrow or Wednesday. He admitted to cops he knew it was Veda's birthday, and that was how he chose to celebrate With trauma and memories I know she will never forget. I did my best to make her day that much more special, but my mommy heart can't stop aching for her. This person was also hiding in my laundry room outside for many hours before he was caught. This person also, yet again, violated the restraining order I have on him. I think this is the 5th time now. The system fails me and my children time and time again, he gets away with everything, all the time. And will continue to do so because he knows there will be no true consequences for it. This event was by far the most malicious and I am even more afraid now than I already was. Some may say that me posting this will make him retaliate. Yea...he mostly likely will. But I've been silent for 4 years, no communication with the person and he "retaliates"regardless. And since the court system won't serve justice, I'm talking it upon myself to reach out for help/advice. I've asked for guidance from Victims assistance, cops, and unfortunately something like my life has to be taken in order for anyone to take any REAL action. I can't afford a lawyer, it's not possible or ideal for me to move. This has been our family home for 15 years. Is there anyone, or even anyone who knows ANYONE, who can help me keep my children and I safe from this violent person? How, other than him talking my life, do I go about finding someone that will hold him accountable? Why is domestic violence treated like a minor issue that's not worth handling. He gets a slap on the wrist and a free pass to go back out into the world, basically allowing him another chance to "get me" again. This has been going on for years. Plz don't send negativity my way, and plz no judgement for my decision to take it to FB...just know bringing it here was truly my last resort.

Tonight we ended our night with pizza and ice cream and presents.. and even when we sung happy birthday to her, my whole heart was just breaking for her. She deserves the world. She is one of the sweetest souls I know. Please send me in any direction that will help us.

Karma was he got arrested within 5 minutes, whereas most times, he runs away and GETS away. Leaving us terrified to even sleep at night.

[gwenspter]

okay so i see that its a princess!reader,, im already in love with this,, also the arranged marriage??? its basically your brand at this point shajdsad

Well the General himself never cared for the affection of it all, he was too smart the man to see past any political benefit. Y/n, in the peak of her youth had dreams and hopes for her marriage which her soon crushed one after another with every bit of unfolding of her relationship with Aleksander, coming to realise she hadn’t married an affectionate man, not even caring but someone just so powerhungry and cold he doesn’t think twice to bend his morals.

a toxic trait of mine is thinking that i could change him. but in reality,, if he ever speaks to me in a mean way,, id probably cry because im so sensitive

Aleksander stopped y/n in her tracks holding her by her upper arm, taken aback by this sudden action she tried to maintain her distance yet he gave her a firm tug towards him to sound more sincere “You might think you are so much above me with your moral grounds and your honour, silver spoon fed princess y/n, but you stand here, at the little palace, taking your council meetings as the general’s wife…and that’s what bothers you so much doesn’t it?” He sneered “It hurts your petty conscience…however you put it y/n you are not much different than me—you married me.”

that kinda got me feeling things even though im pretty sure it shouldnt

“Are you going to have another one of your tantrums again? I did not have enough wine for this…” y/n sighed with her subtle composure and if only irritated Aleksander more and more. However much he tried to result her misconduct to her she seemed to be treating it so trivially.

he could be such a manchild sometimes 🙄

“Me? I am strongly opinionated? My husband doesn’t even share the same bed as me and you are saying that? Under different circumstances you wouldn’t have married me I’m not your like am I? I am not grisha—had it not been for your political status you wouldn’t even have this conversation. Me! It’s me-I am the one who has never wronged you yet I despise you that much.” Y/n spoke as her voice cracked by the end of it, she had went through this in her head a lot. Everything she could be  doing right for him to stop being as cold to her until he drove her to stop believing in them.

just kiss and make up already

“Alright…sure! You can say anything you want to have the last word of this argument but it does not change the truth!” She spoke frustrated just then Aleksander leaped towards her grabbing the sides of her arms and pinned her to the wall, y/n just started at him blankly just registering how fast that had happened.

HELLO??? “ pinned her to the wall “????? omgiasduiwasd im alright im okay im totallt fine im not malfunctioning at all

“You want to know the truth y/n? The truth is I am exhausted to see you disregard my love for you over and over because you do not fathom it. I have always hated those galas and dinner parties yet you make me await them so I could get to be close to you, if only for the mask of being a happy couple but I so miserably await being close to you. It is difficult to even work around you knowing out of everything I could want of the whole world I want you, your love and it is the one thing I can’t have—you don’t deserve my infuriating love, the darkness of it and had I not pushed you away you would’ve loved me like someone entitled to. I don’t want that entitled, dutiful love…I want it yours. Wholly yours. But it is getting difficult to push you away..” he finished as the two of them gazed into each other’s eyes for quite the long moment. This was the most close they had been and neither seemed to move.

“Aleksander…” finally y/n said softly as her gaze softened towards him. Comprehending everything he just said. His expressions were truly taken aback when she said his name, for someone wanting to be that long buried part of himself, “Kiss me.” She looked at him unfaltering, as he pulled her into him from the waist letting go of her arms and crashed his lips onto hers. Such strong desire of a pushed away love, heavy, unfathomable, messy love. Y/n wrapped her arms around him as the two of them kissed their wearies away. 

babes sajdkgahjsds this was literally so great,, the tension between them??? the confessions??? THE KISS???? like omg,, reading this has made me miss your writing like 100000000x more than i already did. the way you write aleksander is literally just mwa. i love it. another great work from you 😡♥

Amongst the two of us

General Kirigan x princess!reader (one shot)

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Period drama misogyny, arranged marriages, arguments, angst, I’ll proofread in the morning pls sorry

Summary: The general and his wife of differentiating moral grounds make their marriage work somehow

An: This one was sitting in my drafts unfinished for so long and it was an alternate ending for another Aleksander fic which I never ended up posting but I worked on this one bc s2 darkling arose a LOT in me so oh well

This one is spoiler free for S2 :)

—

There were two sets of council meetings ever since the General had married the lady y/l/n. For one her name weighed a lot of political power, being the noble lord’s daughter, the princess it was a prestige to have that power at little palace, someone of that huge a name by the general’s side. Well the General himself never cared for the affection of it all, he was too smart the man to see past any political benefit. Y/n, in the peak of her youth had dreams and hopes for her marriage which her soon crushed one after another with every bit of unfolding of her relationship with Aleksander, coming to realise she hadn’t married an affectionate man, not even caring but someone just so powerhungry and cold he doesn’t think twice to bend his morals. Is what y/n thought of him coming to know so more and more of him but remained not so phased after a while, a year into the marriage she would just look back thinking how foolish she it was to expect anything of the man she married.

Yet she thought it worked just fine, if she truly meant to marry for love she might’ve had a summer fling, elope with some stable boy and call it love to be living in some cottage far away…but no, she was destined for duties more than that. She had her own first army council at the little palace, the king’s army. But the king never bothered attend. The Lady Kirigan, the princess, was considered capable with the set of officers she had for most decisions.

Your husband doesn’t share a bed with you but at least you’re the head of first army council meetings. Your husband rarely shares any intimate moments with you but at least you get to see him from camp base to camp base. And of course the most infamous facade of being the pair that does share affection for each other in the glamour dinner parties amongst drunk lords and ladies who believe it just fine.

Honestly on the political front the first army felt more liberated and open with less of the general’s inputs given he wouldn’t join their meetings anymore ever since Lady y/n was placed there neither were the first army officials…mortals rather, allowed in any second army business. “Leave, the room.” Too much for uninterrupted business, the general barged into the meeting room where Lady y/n’s first army officials were having an ongoing discussion given the maps and the reports laid out on the table. “I have some important matters I need to discuss with my lady wife.” He announced as the matters seemed to be quite the work regarding, given he had a letter or document scroll in his hands and it was the general himself who visited.

With a short nod from y/n the officers left the room leaving the two alone, y/n did feel a tad affront on him just barging in through her ongoing meeting well aware he wouldn’t have entertained it if it was the other way around but she wished for whatever matter it was to get done with sooner so she chose not to speak on it “What is it?”

Aleksander placed the letter in his hand on the table for her to read, as she picked it up he spoke “Its a letter to Lord Eldon, a dear friend of your father’s who’s not so particularly fond of me, we need his aid for more men by the Ravaka front since the second army is occupied by the fold but he wouldn’t comply if the letter went from me” Aleksander let out a short scoff on the fact that some lord of a land that covers barely about 5 villages would be distasteful to him, the general, the shadow summoner. But in his opinion these noble lords were so petty about their allies and Aleksander knew he wasn’t that friendly “I need you to sign that letter.”

Y/n had her eyes fixated on the letter reading through till the end, the letter written in a first person way with wordings seeming as if she did write it herself “Did you write this?” She asked looking up from the letter.

“No.” Aleksander replied flatly, surely the general wouldn’t be as free as to go about writing framed letters himself.

“Well next time you feel like writing a letter on by behalf know that I wouldn’t be this straight forward to a dear friend of my father’s who has know me my entire life…” her voice trailed off with a suppressed chuckle that Aleksander didn’t even seem to check the phrasings of the letter once.

“Alright then you write it yourself” He spoke sliding a blank paper across the table to her “Make it as authentic as you’d like.”

“I could write it but I am not going to sign it.” Y/n spoke with sincerity but she was calm to lay it out. “I don’t condone it.”

“I beg your pardon?” Aleksander said raising a brow quite phased that she would choose a decision revolting his.

“If I sign the letter Lord Eldon will surely send his soldiers given he is to watch over a larger estate with his handful of army it would be unwise so no…”

“That is exactly why I want you to sign it. If the letter is from you he will send his men-did-did you not hear me correctly the first time?” He asked budding quite misinterpreting what she meant to say as whole.

“I heard you just right and I am saying no.” Y/n still had a calm yet firm tone of her voice despite his obvious annoyance “Lord Eldon isn’t a sovereign lord his army is the third half of the Royal army…for him to send his soldiers, the domesticity of the people of his land would be compromised. I am not going to sign the letter and bind him with a moral obligation.”

“The domesticity of the people?” He repeated her words with a taunting amusement “You are crossing unnecessary lengths to spite me…just sign it.” Aleksander sighed not considering her genuine people caring intentions behind it.

“Oh I surely do have other things than to be free enough to spite you, General.” Y/n said crossing her arms to a firm stance “Should Lord Eldon send his men for you the crime, the looting, the disruption will increase in his lands with less men on patrol, when he doesn’t even have enough as it is. I am sorry but I cannot sign it.”

“Don’t you understand? This is important. We need those men and it requires just a mere signature of yours!” He exclaimed, very agitated as he let out an exaggerated sigh rubbing his eyes to get over the unwanted annoyance.

“It’s as if I am talking to a wall…you aren’t even trying to understand.” Y/n spoke shaking her head, Aleksander truly believed that y/n’s barrier for the sign was not the honour and morals she abided by but…pettiness. “If you need the soldiers so bad then write the letter yourself. Sign it and send it as yourself the general because frankly ‘we’ don’t need his men…the second army does, you do.”

“Y/n you don’t get to—“

“Lady y/l/n.” She corrected him mid sentence shrugging her shoulders, he wasn’t on first name terms with his own wife even the marriage was quite formal and political, should he believe that he had the authority over her to by using her first name in disdain she’d rather prove him wrong.

“Y/l/n.” He corrected his words with gritted teeth “Sign it. Be done with it.” Aleksander was running out of patience to convince or put forward any debate whilst she remained calm as ever as if he stance his words had no effect on her.

Y/n exhaled and she took the paper in her hands walking across the table to him, she looked at the letter one time as though she were considering signing it right before she tore it apart in his face and let the pieces of paper fall to the floor “I won’t.”

Aleksander huffed, he stood as if that action did not phase him, something he expected at the start of their conversation “It is almost humorous and immature to see how low you are willing to steep just to get a rise out of me.”

All of this over a sign…y/n said in her head yet she knew this conversation would only go further and further to no end. Aleksander was so head strong out of all she tried to explain it why she wouldn’t sign the letter he stood the same ground, “Ah yes of course my favourite hobby!” She said sarcastically rolling her eyes as she attempted to walk past him.

Aleksander stopped y/n in her tracks holding her by her upper arm, taken aback by this sudden action she tried to maintain her distance yet he gave her a firm tug towards him to sound more sincere “You might think you are so much above me with your moral grounds and your honour, silver spoon fed princess y/n, but you stand here, at the little palace, taking your council meetings as the general’s wife…and that’s what bothers you so much doesn’t it?” He sneered “It hurts your petty conscience…however you put it y/n you are not much different than me—you married me.”

“You know Aleksander, I did not have a say in this. It was announced I was to be married to the general…you. Before our wedding I didn’t even know what you looked like, my beliefs had nothing to do with our marriage my father simply married me off to a stranger on the king’s orders. You are just too arrogant to be around.” so much for the spoiled princess. Y/n replied bluntly as she looked at him and he seemed lost at words letting go of his grip on her arm. He instantly regretted his phrasing aware that must’ve stung her, he was not one to apologise but before he could even show his slight remorse for the words he chose she was already walking out her office, leaving him alone…a frequent sight for him. Sight he didn’t want to admit to but hated being used to, her walking away.

—

A distasteful marriage had both Aleksander and Y/n bound to societal presence of being a rather joyous couple, hand in hand and smiling at the guests of the gala. One of the king’s many monthly amusements. Gather Royal gossiping and as Aleksander put it, arse kissing guests time to time for fine dining despite of what goes on within the country. Y/n was raised amongst these dinner parties of fake smiles and niceties, just assuming her smiles wouldn’t be as fake around her own husband was something she hadn’t planned. But there they were, the general and his wife, y/n graciously laughing at his comments as they talked to the Royal guests, arm in arm as if it wasn’t mere hours ago that two of them had an argument over council matters. “Ah Y/n!” One of the ladies from the Royal guests called her as she approached her and Aleksander. “General” the lady nodded respectfully. “You look lovely tonight princess-or should I say lady general now?” The lady commented as she let out a cheerful laugh.

“You wound me by addressing me with titles when you’re quite literally my favourite!” Y/n exclaimed with a courteous smile, “You are on first name basis hmm? Don’t insult our bond with titles!” Truthfully y/n didn’t even remember the name of the Lady who so cheerfully greeted her and Aleksander, she remembered her face from a few of royal dinners and galas from earlier and that was about enough for a small talk. However the ‘first name basis’ was a taunt to Aleksander which he must’ve registered the way his lips fell into a thin smile to seem as if he wasn’t phased.

“They say marriage changes people quite a lot but you two just as gallant as your wedding day!” The lady exclaimed.

“Why thank you that is very polite.” Aleksander spoke with a short nod, he was never the one to get so much involved in any of the small talks it seemed his wife was quite the master with remembering a lot of details about almost every royal guest she did most the talking for him while he’d stand there with small courtesies.

“Surely! And for a marriage to change you it requires quite a lot of the couple to be so present don’t you agree?” Y/n said to the lady in such a subtle manner though her words weighed heavy sly comments directed to Aleksander.

“Oh you are so right! As workaholic as the general is I imagine it is difficult to get his time.” The lady joked unaware of the original scenario of their marriage being worse than that. Y/n didn’t get his time, his thoughts or attention outside of these dinner parties anyways. She never took it up with Aleksander of course, it was bound to be met with disdain. Yet it didn’t stomach her well how getting Aleksander’s time out of his ‘workaholic’ schedule seemed something difficult to the lady and not y/n’s time. She was on the first army council herself and worked just as much…nothing new.

“Happens so often…” y/n’s voice trailed off as she chuckled at what seemed to be a light hearted mention of her husband’s businesses to the lady, “you’d be surprised” y/n added softly for Aleksander to hear. And he did, he’d been hearing these comments and taunts quite a few times in the course of that entire evening.

He thought maybe it had something to do with the correlation of their argument earlier, wether it was or wasn’t his patience wore so thin. After the dinner of snide remarks it almost seemed endless to Aleksander. Once it was over he walked back to y/n’s chambers with her, they left these events together so it would seem that they had the same bedchamber. However when y/n got inside hers thinking Aleksander would walk further down the hall to his, he walked inside the room with her. Y/n simply turned around when he entered alongside her before she could begin to ask the reason for it he shut the door behind him and stood afar exhaling “What was all that about?” He spoke and it seemed so demanding.

“What?” She asked truly clueless, she didn’t think those comments would actually get to him, most of those she most probably forgot even making.

“You kept on taunting me the entire evening!” He said crossing his arms trying his best to maintain his composure yet his body language was so angry and frustrated.

“Oh did I now?” Y/n asked tilting her head trying to go though some of the conversations in her head where he must’ve felt that she had done that, maybe.

“Y/n it-“

“Uh?” Y/n interrupted him mid sentence as he used her first name.

Aleksander spoke further regardless “It was disrespectful to me.”

“Are you going to have another one of your tantrums again? I did not have enough wine for this…” y/n sighed with her subtle composure and if only irritated Aleksander more and more. However much he tried to result her misconduct to her she seemed to be treating it so trivially.

“I am serious.” He said flatly and brisk of frustration lingered his tone.

“So am I. I truly did not drink enough to go through this again” Y/n said raising her brows at him, she gathered that if she reacted and engaged with him seriously, it wasn’t as if he was going to listen secondly he was awaiting for her to react the way he wanted her to so he could tell her how much of an inconvenience to she was to him. To his plans.

“You can’t just ignore me with sarcasm!” Aleksander exclaimed and he felt as though he would loose his temper so he exhaled taking in a breath for that situation to not arise, he wanted to prove his point across and it wouldn’t happen if he acted rather harshly or she wouldn’t be open to listen to him “I am your husband-why don’t I get to call you by your name?”

“Why? Lady y/l/n, lady general, lady wife doesn’t suffice?” She replied leaning on the table in the large bed chambers where he still stood by the doors.

“I address you with titles when you are surrounded and in meetings out of respect but amongst the two of us—“

“There is no amongst the two of us!” Y/n said this time as the subtlety of her tone leaving her. It was beyond her understanding how he his thought process counted her the harbinger of their unpleasant marriage. She threw her hands in the air pointing this to him “This might just be one of the few times where we’re ‘amongst the two of us’ behind closed doors and we are arguing! That’s the most you see for us.”

“Why are you so strongly opinionated towards me? I have never wronged you in any way!” He said exclaiming as he walked a few steps towards her both of their tones so above decency as their conversation got heated.

“Me? I am strongly opinionated? My husband doesn’t even share the same bed as me and you are saying that? Under different circumstances you wouldn’t have married me I’m not your like am I? I am not grisha—had it not been for your political status you wouldn’t even have this conversation. Me! It’s me-I am the one who has never wronged you yet I despise you that much.” Y/n spoke as her voice cracked by the end of it, she had went through this in her head a lot. Everything she could be doing right for him to stop being as cold to her until he drove her to stop believing in them.

Aleksander took a long pause before he spoke, he had never realised that this is what she’d been feeling due to him but it wasn’t is intention. “You…you don’t despise me.” He spoke looking away from him almost as if he couldn’t meet her gaze.

“Alright…sure! You can say anything you want to have the last word of this argument but it does not change the truth!” She spoke frustrated just then Aleksander leaped towards her grabbing the sides of her arms and pinned her to the wall, y/n just started at him blankly just registering how fast that had happened.

“You want to know the truth y/n? The truth is I am exhausted to see you disregard my love for you over and over because you do not fathom it. I have always hated those galas and dinner parties yet you make me await them so I could get to be close to you, if only for the mask of being a happy couple but I so miserably await being close to you. It is difficult to even work around you knowing out of everything I could want of the whole world I want you, your love and it is the one thing I can’t have—you don’t deserve my infuriating love, the darkness of it and had I not pushed you away you would’ve loved me like someone entitled to. I don’t want that entitled, dutiful love…I want it yours. Wholly yours. But it is getting difficult to push you away..” he finished as the two of them gazed into each other’s eyes for quite the long moment. This was the most close they had been and neither seemed to move.

“Aleksander…” finally y/n said softly as her gaze softened towards him. Comprehending everything he just said. His expressions were truly taken aback when she said his name, for someone wanting to be that long buried part of himself, “Kiss me.” She looked at him unfaltering, as he pulled her into him from the waist letting go of her arms and crashed his lips onto hers. Such strong desire of a pushed away love, heavy, unfathomable, messy love. Y/n wrapped her arms around him as the two of them kissed their wearies away.

—

I’m going to write more w s2 plots so let me know if you want to be tagged or request something <333

Hi pls if you’re supposed to be studying or doing anything future you would hate you for being here instead of finishing that please go do it I am in fail girl summer rn and I regret it I love u

[earaercircular]

Can one be in favour of individual liberties and be aware of the limits of the environment?

Olivier Lefebvre is an economist and has played an important role as advisor to the Belgian Minister of Finance, and as co-founder of Euronext, the merger of the Paris-Brussels-Amsterdam stock exchanges. He also began to take an interest in the Meadows report[1], the findings of the IPCC[2] and Al Gore's film An Inconvenient Truth[3], and energy issues. He has now become an advisor in strategy, governance and sustainability. For him continental liberalism rhymes with respect for resources and competitiveness. We reproduce here this part of his interview.

Can one be European liberal and have a real awareness of the limits of the environment?

I remain in favour of a market economy and regulated free enterprise, in particular because the planned alternatives have been systematic failures and the freedom of enterprise is one of the basic freedoms of democracy. But when the system becomes more extractive than productive of value, it must be corrected. The overexploitation of the environment, which endangers future generations, undermines our model. We issue "debts" for future generations. We are in a paradox of prosperity, but of increased fragility, since, if we deplete our resources, we are heading for a dead end. I believe that advocates of liberalism and free enterprise should be champions of integrating these externalities into the market economy. Because the legitimacy of the company and its profit can only result from a sustainable activity and not from exploitation that compromises subsequent generations or the lives of others on the planet.

Are we mismanaging our resources?

Yes. However, when you learn management, at the micro level, you know that you should not confuse your stocks with your flows. And in particular not to dip into its net assets to finance flows. If you burn all your assets or issue debt indefinitely, you know that at some point it's going to get stuck. However, this is what we are doing massively at the macroeconomic level. But, above all, we only measure flows and ignore everything about our collective balance sheet. It's a bit like running a business by looking only at turnover, without properly measuring costs.

Do we saw off the branch we're sitting on?

That is the paradox. We assist to a destruction of biodiversity, which is a real productive asset, we often forget it. Soil fertility depends on it. We destroy, we turn that into a stream of income and we feel like we are super-thriving. And indeed, we have never been so prosperous before. And whole continents developed rapidly. But the depletion of the balance sheet awaits. It's a recipe for bankruptcy...

Eternal question, but is the GDP an indicator that has become obsolete?

We know that it is an indicator that only measures a flow. There is good and bad. The war in Ukraine will cause a recession, but at the same time the supply of arms will cause the GDP to rise... So there is no notion of well-being. That's why there were a lot of other indicators.

Is it possible to have another indicator?

It is complicated. And we shouldn't completely throw away the GDP, because we see that there is often a correlation between this indicator and the others. But that does not measure the depletion of renewable assets. That's what's missing. Therefore, flow indicators must be supplemented by indicators of stocks and opportunity costs.

Should companies be more active on these issues?

Yes! Boards of directors must be made accountable on these issues. That the results presented are legitimate and do not result from child slavery or overexploitation of resources. This is how we will defend the legitimacy of companies. The liberals like the president of the Belgian French-speaking liberal party, Georges-Louis Bouchez, should take hold of this and the business federations too. The UWE[4] is already doing this, but the Feb[5] and the Voka[6] are late on the subject.

Some feel that it will become a way of being competitive.

Sure. You have to shake the coconut tree, but it's in the interest of companies, if they don't want to be downgraded later.

But it's also a burden that can weigh down European competitiveness, isn't it?

Do not ignore the complexity. It is true that sometimes the burden of proof is on the wrong side. Let's take the example of organic farming: it is the person who does organic farming who must go through the formalities to prove that he is organic. The burden of proof is on the good students. This needs to be lightened. But what is the alternative? Companies must act.

Isn't there widespread hypocrisy? Everyone says they are virtuous, but the act of buying remains, ultimately, defined by the price.

This is why it is necessary to integrate externalities into selling prices.[7]

And this on an international level...

Yes. We are trying to do it for carbon. We need at least a European approach in terms of aviation as well, if not internationally. It's amazing to see that the most polluting means of transport is the most zero-rated, it makes no sense. We have known this for a long time, but it takes political will to get things moving.

How to value these resources? Concretely?

Companies will have to integrate carbon prices. Danone did it for example. It must be done for criteria other than CO2. And the transportation sector or the building sector could enter the ETS system[8]. Agricultural production also, while the production of animal proteins is extremely emitting CO2. Our industrial agricultural practices are absolutely catastrophic and deplete the fertility of the soil. And if the soil cannot regenerate, we produce food of lower quality, we open up more to pathogens, we apply more pesticides and we create vicious circles and, ultimately, "deserts".

What is the solution?

If we manage to show that in different, economically viable models, we can respect the environment, or even improve biodiversity and social ties, we can be part of the solution. We are the generation that has largely contributed to the problem, can we, before leaving the scene, be part of the one that will have initiated the change?

Is it compatible, the markets and the environment?

Don't spit in the soup. Stock markets are useful to the economy. On the other hand, the fact of trying to execute orders at ten thousandths of a second... We can wonder about the added value of that. Personally, I remain in favour of a liberal economy, which allows free enterprise, and not of a planned economy. Historically, we have seen that it never worked.

Speaking of markets, what do you think of cryptocurrencies?

I am not criticizing blockchain technology... but the way it is used, for example for bitcoin, is an environmental disaster. Because the system of competition between miners[9] means that computers are running at full speed all over the planet. Even if it's with renewable energy, we really need it to do other things. And from a business model point of view, bitcoin, again, is by construction a speculative system. Demand is stimulated by a fashion effect, with somewhat suspicious announcements from time to time, such as those of Elon Musk. There is no regulation like in trading rooms, because it is not a financial asset... That's another problem. The system allows everything. One can engage in price manipulation, insider trading, without being prosecuted. That's crazy. So it's an energetic, regulatory and ethical disaster. The demand, whatever may be said, is essentially speculative.

Source

Antonin Marsac, Les plus aisés n’ont pas besoin d‘être indexés, in : La Libre Belgique, 3-4-12-2022, https://kiosque.lalibre.be/app/LAL169/editionguid/127732b7-35c7-442a-a8b3-a5642a9efbbd

[1] The Limits to Growth (LTG) is a 1972 report that discussed the possibility of exponential economic and population growth with finite supply of resources, studied by computer simulation. The study used the World3 computer model to simulate the consequence of interactions between the earth and human systems. The report's authors are Donella H. Meadows, Dennis L. Meadows, Jørgen Randers, and William W. Behrens III, representing a team of 17 researchers.

[2] The conclusions of the IPCC's Global Warming of 1.5° C special report were startling: A half degree more of warming would mean substantially more poverty, extreme heat, sea level rise, habitat and coral reef loss, and drought. And we cannot prevent this unless we act immediately to cut emissions deeply. The 2018 report confirmed what those vulnerable nations feared to be true: Every tenth of a degree of warming has grave consequences. https://www.nrdc.org/stories/ipcc-climate-change-reports-why-they-matter-everyone-planet#:~:text=The%20conclusions%20of%20the%20IPCC%27s,immediately%20to%20cut%20emissions%20deeply.

[3] An Inconvenient Truth is a 2006 American documentary film directed by Davis Guggenheim about former United States Vice President Al Gore's campaign to educate people about global warming. The film features a slide show that, by Gore's own estimate, he has presented over 1,000 times to audiences worldwide.

[4] Union wallonne des Entreprises. It is the association of enterprises of Wallonia.

[5] Belgian Federation of Enterprises. It regroups all sector federations.

[6] Flemish network of enterprises. It is a merger of the various chambers of commerce of Flanders and the Association of Enterprises of Flanders.

[7] Read also: https://at.tumblr.com/earaercircular/disposable-diapers-are-way-too-cheap-and-should-be/j4y1n2137zf4

[8] The European Union Emissions Trading System (EU ETS) is a "cap and trade" scheme where a limit is placed on the right to emit specified pollutants over an area and companies can trade emission rights within that area. It covers around 45% of the EUs greenhouse gas emissions.

[9] those who "mine" the encrypted blocks and make a profit from it

[indigoh4ze]

use your words || t.n & d.m

warning- SMUT // face riding, blowjobs, mommy kink, d/s dynamic, a lot of praise, lmk what else

sub!draco x dom!theo x switch!fem!reader

a/n- i've never wrote for theo but this idea came to mind cuz i've been seeing alot of him sooo here it is! enjoy and send in some theo requests if you have any. also i tagged my draco taglist for now since i only just added theo

taglist | << add yourself to the theo taglist | turn on notifs on @slvt4fakerealities-library to be notified when i post

looking to your right, draco’s feet were draped over the arm of the couch, his head on your lap like your thighs were his own personal cushions.

theo, who sat on the left, was playing with the strings of his joggers mindlessly, and your head laid limp against his shoulder, fingers raking through the blond hair on your lap.

draco was beginning to get whiny, squirming as he turned to nose at your thighs, almost hitting your crotch- causing you to tense mildly and inhale sharply.

“dray, y’alright?” you questioned with a knowing gaze, coaxing him to look at you, which he did, though a pout was drawn onto his lips.

“wanna go t’bed, mommy,” theo now put his attention on draco, cocking his head and scanning his eyes over the boys state, a mess with glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

you looked over at theo for permission, wasting no time in bringing draco to his feet with the gentle touch of your hand on his bicep. once you all made your way over to draco’s private dorm, theo guided the both of you to the unmade bed.

draco immediately found shelter by your side, nuzzling into your neck and leaving wet kisses along your jawline, pulling quiet and breathy moans from your throat.

“how about you tell mommy what you want, dray, use your words like a good boy,” theo gently purred, now squatted in front of draco, two hands placed soundly on the boys knees, the pad of his thumb soothing circles.

draco seemed to hesitate, awfully flushed in this headspace, distracted by the intense whirling in his core. “w-wanna feel good,” he mumbled, though he was nudging so close to you that his words came out muffled.

it took theos strong grip on his jaw to steer him away from you, and you placed a hand on his thigh to relax his nerves. “c’mon now, be a good boy and then we can help you, alright?”

nodding, draco slowly parted his lips, “want you to touch me, please?”

“with what, baby?” now it was your turn to question, and draco looked up at you, gulping.

“dunno, mommy.”

but it was evident he did know, because he looked down and bit his lip, feeling even more nervous as all the eye were on him.

so you ran tender fingers through his hair and placed a kiss on his cheek, bringing him to lay back. the boy followed without question, then scrambled to meet your requests of discarding his shirt.

theo stood, doing the same and then moving onto his buckle, the metal clacking together and filling both you and draco with suspense of what’s to come.

“doll, wanna be a good girl and get on your knees?” theo insisted, and you practically fell to the floor, urgently doing as he asked, in return gaining a proud smile from the boy.

the brunet walked over, stroking a piece of hair behind your ears and then looking back at draco, who was sat up on his elbows and awaiting attention. “dray, how about you ask nicely, and y/n/n will make you feel really good?”

“p-please, wanna feel your mouth around my cock, waited all day f’you, please?” draco hastily blurted, a glimmer of lust molded into his gray eyes.

“good boy,” with the praise, draco’s heart swelled, and theo leaned down, tilting the boys chin up and placing a lingering kiss on his lips. draco melted into the kiss, desperately using his tongue and making theo grin slightly into the kiss before moving away.

you were simply watching from your knees, a pout constructing its way onto your lips at the lack of attention. as if reading your mind, theo spoke, “go on, bunny, suck him off like a good girl and then i’ll make that little ache in your tummy go away, how does that sound?” his soft spoken words and vibrant visage had you nodding eagerly. as a reward for your obedience, theo mirrored his previous actions, leaving a kiss on your lips and pecking them once more for extra effect.

theo aides draco in taking off his undergarments, and now it was your turn to comply to theos requests, signaling draco to move closer to the edge of the bed so you could get the perfect angle of his cock from your kneeled position. he was gripping the silk sheets with a strong hand, watching the way you took his cock in your hand and began to set a rhythm around it. your simple actions drew soft whimpers from the boy, and theo watched from where he was leaning against the wall, cock straining against the material of his boxers.

“does that feel good, dray?” you inquired, and draco nodded quickly.

“words, dray,” theo reminded the boy from the side.

“y-yeah, feels really g-good mommy,” his sentence ended with a yelp as you brought the tip of his cock between your lips, the warm muscle stroking it before fully submerging it inside the warmth of your mouth.

draco released a lewd moan, and in the corner of your eye you saw the licentious smirk drawn on theos lips, which had your cunt throbbing through your panties even more. the boy in front of you had his eyes closed, though he couldn’t keep them shut for long as he wanted to watch how well you took him.

pre-cum dribbled from his tip, and you gagged lightly around him as theo padded over to assist you - holding back your hair in a makeshift pony tail and guiding your head so his cock slid gingerly through your swollen lips. a few bucks of his hips was all it took for him to become a moaning mess, whines spilling freely off his tongue with less shame, eyes unable to keep off the sight of theos lips attaching themselves to the flesh behind your ear every now and then.

soon, draco was emptying inside your mouth, cock driving into you one last time before he dissolved into pleasure. you dragged the climax out as long as you could before gasping for air, licking your lips and lulling your tongue out for theo to show him you swallowed everything.

theo gave you a pleased smile and an affectionate kiss on your temple before standing to sit by draco. “feelin’ better?” theo queried with a lopsided grin.

“much,” draco nodded, kissing theos cheek and then looking down at you. “thank you, mommy.”

“of course, love,” you were standing now, giving the silver haired boy a kiss and then looking at theo expectantly.

“i want you to ride my face now, angel, sound good?”

“yes please.” you said with eager eyes.

“good,” theo breathily chuckled, “and draco, you’re gonna be a good boy and suck me off, yeah?”

once draco had responded with just as much eagerness- enthusiastic at any chance to pleasure his boyfriend- it had begun.

theo’s on his back, your flimsy panties discarded along with your shirt, and draco between theos legs and in front of his now exposed cock. slight hesitation came over you before you managed to maneuver yourself above theo’s face. the heat of his breath fanned against your cunt and you shivered from that alone, non stop blood rushing through your body.

finally, theo’s lips connected with your folds, already soaked from your arousal. his tongue worked deliciously against them, opening your lips and gaining access to your bundle of nerves, suctioning the nub with fervor. draco began his ministrations on theo’s cock, which had the brunet groaning into your pussy.

moans were pouring out of your mouth, fingers intertwining with the strings of hair at theo’s scalp, your free hand gripping the top of the bed frame as you slightly rolled your hips against his mouth. draco was speeding up, which meant theo was gaining more and more pleasure, resulting in you shivering from the stimulation.

“fuck— theo, right there!” you gasped as his tongue flicked the perfect spot repeatedly, swirling and sucking as wet noises echoed throughout the room, along with other sounds of groans and moans.

lifting your hips from theo’s grasp for a second, the boy peered up at you through half lidded eyes, rosy cheeks and disheveled hair making your thighs quiver. “c’mon, love, ‘m not finished tasting your sweet pussy,” he rasped, digging his fingertips into the fat of your ass before pulling you back towards him, this time not letting you escape his clutch.

theo’s tongue worked rapidly against your cunt, eventually sheathing it into your fluttering walls, and drawing a lewd whimper from the pit of your chest, “i’m coming— theo fuck, fuck please,” you were begging and blabbering as arousal dripped from your cunt and smeared itself around theo’s mouth. your orgasm took over, your body going limp as you held onto the headboard firmly and threw your head back in ecstasy.

just as you did so, draco swirled his skillful tongue around theo’s length, taking all of him and getting theo to his peak. his moans into your overworked cunt were heaven and hell, sensitivity and pleasure swirling within you as you panted above him.

eventually removing your cunt from his mouth, you sat on his bare stomach, soaking the outline of his abs with your slick, your lips puffy and achy against him.

draco lift his head up, kissing your hip from behind and then sitting up fully. theo released a sigh before sitting up, grabbing your by your underarms and pulling you down into a sloppy kiss- the taste of your juices still on his tongue- then settled you onto his chest. he outstretched an arm for draco to join- the boy crawling towards you and snuggling close to theo’s chest as well, your faces turned towards eachother.

you looked up at theo, dotting a kiss near his chin and doing the same to draco’s forehead, then settling back onto the boys comforting warmth and allowing your eyes to flutter shut from exhaustion. the last thought that went through your head before sleep fully overtook you was,

i’ll worry about the mess later.

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[jakesimfromstatefarm]

how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure 

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love. 

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules. 

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!] 

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ 

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life. 

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends. 

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space. 

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life. 

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him. 

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings. 

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you. 

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change. 

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history). 

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever. 

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one. 

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second. 

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table. 

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all. 

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking. 

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense. 

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.) 

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue. 

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?” 

Wrong. 

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend. 

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.) 

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull. 

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon. 

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak. 

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection. 

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was. 

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners. 

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him. 

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school) 

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time. 

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon. 

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you. 

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be. 

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t. 

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life. 

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you. 

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract. 

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we? 

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second. 

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.” 

Right. Of course. Obviously. 

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way. 

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know. 

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you. 

Yes, that’s it, just say no. 

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact. 

Jake does not say no. 

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another. 

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart. 

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.  

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.  

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting. 

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?  

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.  

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea. 

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you: 

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture. 

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world. 

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right? 

Spoken like a true simp. 

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously. 

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all. 

Wednesday, December 9th 

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well. 

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist. 

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.” 

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say. 

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself. 

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...” 

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good. 

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often. 

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush. 

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment. 

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking. 

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers. 

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun. 

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table. 

“I’m helping y/n study” 

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday” 

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?” 

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party? 

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime. 

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.” 

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes. 

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again. 

He then looks to you with puppy eyes. 

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you. 

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that. 

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought. 

Weird. 

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest. 

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.” 

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no. 

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party. 

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.” 

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.” 

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you. 

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay. 

Admittedly cute. 

Thursday, December 10th 

You are having a bad day. 

You’re having the mother of bad days. 

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due. 

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms. 

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse. 

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about. 

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal). 

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n. 

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done. 

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space. 

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays. 

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude. 

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone. 

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding” 

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is 

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? :// 

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today. 

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home. 

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures. 

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy. 

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue. 

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.” 

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in. 

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window. 

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door. 

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right? 

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats. 

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood. 

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.” 

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?” 

“Touché,” you click your tongue. 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.  

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?” 

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously. 

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you. 

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?” 

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood. 

You nod at his answer. 

“You two make a good couple.” 

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.” 

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen. 

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say. 

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy. 

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.  

Jake. 

Weird. 

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.  

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.  

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.  

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.  

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.  

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing. 

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.  

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.  

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.  

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation. 

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.  

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.  

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"  

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.  

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.  

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon. 

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him. 

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you. 

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.” 

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show. 

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice. 

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand. 

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands. 

Hm. A little too familiar. 

Then, it clicks in his head. 

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?” 

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.” 

“You’re annoying.” 

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied. 

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table. 

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken. 

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?” 

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!” 

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him. 

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice. 

You break out of his trance and scoff at him. 

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well.  Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you. 

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.” 

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence. 

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute. 

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.” 

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name. 

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place.   “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan. 

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts. 

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.” 

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it. 

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute. 

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being. 

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion. 

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind. 

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.” 

Friday, December 11th 

The party does not clear your mind. 

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school. 

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood. 

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway. 

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case. 

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings). 

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay’s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news. 

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people. 

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.  

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap. 

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously. 

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive. 

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you. 

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth. 

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.) 

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons. 

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no. 

But he sure can be awkward. 

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him. 

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you. 

Bless this pure, pure boy. 

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them. 

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.” 

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!” 

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response. 

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den. 

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.  

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.” 

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."  

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?” 

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap). 

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.” 

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake. 

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement. 

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.” 

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth. 

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now. 

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.” 

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him. 

“What do you mean I’m too–” 

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say. 

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his. 

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at. 

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop. 

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him. 

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.” 

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing. 

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened. 

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you. 

He’s screwed. 

Saturday, December 12th 

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night. 

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream. 

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise. 

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone. 

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search. 

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before. 

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet? 

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up 

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry 

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy? 

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door 

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts. 

Talk? Outside his door? 

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down. 

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less. 

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however. 

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch. 

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is. 

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue. 

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?” 

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you. 

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home. 

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake? 

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps. 

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes. 

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you. 

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence. 

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking. 

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think. 

Not when it comes to you. 

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you. 

“Look, I-” 

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around. 

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth. 

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.” 

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.  

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare. 

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.” 

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help. 

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.” 

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.” 

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.” 

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away. 

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare. 

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two. 

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily. 

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you. 

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. 

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away. 

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure. 

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response. 

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else. 

“Too late.” 

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’))))) 

[marmixedwithabitofintellect]

The Story of You

I am very sorry for the delay but here is the very much awaited Part 4! Things are starting to get interesting and if you get distracted you might miss them...

Come chat with me about your thoughts! All the love, Mar

Disclaimer: In no way do I wish to spread hate or negative opinions about any of the characters here depicted, this is just fiction and with the purpose of entertaining you guys

Part 4: Yearning

May 29, 2021: Twelve Weeks

Harry. Cheshire, England. 1:12 Am

I sighed after reading the message, I knew this couldn’t wait until the morning or else I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I checked the time in LA, it was around 5 back there, so she was probably home. I grabbed a jacket and put on my slippers before going downstairs.

I shot her a text to ask if she could talk now and as I was waiting for her reply, I decided to make myself a cuppa and grabbed a blanket, although it was still warm outside nights brought an uncomfortable chill with them.

I settled on the bench mom had in the corner of her garden and took a deep breath before dialing her number, it rang three times before she answered, “Hold on a second”, she must have blocked the microphone because I can hear her muffled voice telling the kids that she is busy and to go look for Babs, I then hear a door close and a sliding door open and close, she must have sat on the balcony couch.

“Hello love”, “Oh, now I am love? Are you serious Harry? What’s going on? You spent about two extra weeks in New York and then simply let me know that your plans changed, and you will leave earlier to England and today she posts that photo, and your mom, sister and you comment that, what is happening?”, I can hear the anxiety induced tears in her voice but know that she won’t let them come, just as I was about to speak she whispers “Please tell me it is not what I think”.

I feel tears come to my eyes and take a deep shuddering breath “I’m sorry”, I sniffle, the line is so quiet I’m afraid she hung up, I decide to break it by saying “Please say something”, then the unexpected happened, she starts crying. I feel tears begin to fall while she cries, the guilt on my chest is killing me but I don’t know what to say, “Liv I-, I’m so sorry, I really don’t know what else to say”.

“When?”, “March, we met by chance in LA, the night when we were fighting about…”, “Are you sure its yours?”, “Yes, we did the paternity test a week ago, got the results the next day, baby is definitely mine”, “Are they okay?”, I smiled a little, “Yes, everything is great, growing as they should”, “Good, that’s good”.

“Listen, I know this is a lot to take in, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I was really trying to understand everything, because even if it doesn’t seem that way, I am scared Liv; I’ve never been so scared of anything”, “I know, thank you for telling me, however this does not mean that I am not hurt or upset Harry”, “I know”.

“Liv are we good?”, her silence is deafening, my hands are sweating, and I my heart is beating really fast. After a few seconds, which felt like hours for me I hear her sigh and say in a whisper “I don’t know Harry, I really don’t know”.

We hung up the phone and I went inside, I washed my cup and went to bed, I was feeling drained but just before I drifted to sleep, I texted Jeff and asked him to send a couple of flower arrangements to Olivia with the note I attached.

June 3, 2021: Week Thirteen

New York City, New York. 9:00 Am

Good morning baby! How are you today? I am sorry, mamma slacked last week but you were killing me with the morning sickness bub, but hey if that means that you are healthy, I’ll take it any day. Today you are thirteen weeks! This means we are already a little over a fourth of the way through this journey, yay!!! Last week we had an appointment and daddy was able to meet you, he was crying tears of joy and couldn’t believe how big you already are! Daddy is currently in Europe working on filming a movie, but he has been texting me and asking about how you are (and how I am). We finally told the world about you lovie, everyone is really happy and excited to meet you, especially your Nana Anne and Auntie Gem and I feel that this is the perfect moment to write about them!

Your Nana Anne is daddy’s mum, she lives in England and has many cats, I’m sure you will be happy to play with them, she loves to knit (I’m pretty sure she will knit you anything you ask) and is very passionate in bringing awareness to causes close to her heart, she will be so happy to tell you everything about them. As for your Auntie Gem, she is my best friend, she is the better Styles but don’t tell that to your daddy. She works as an influencer, has a podcast, a blog, and her own sunglass line, she is the coolest person in the Planet, after me of course, I’m sure she’ll be your sidekick in many adventures to come.

I am hoping that we may be able to see each other soon, but this crazy world we’re living in has us stranded in different sides of the world. But that doesn’t mean they don’t love you bubby, they love you so so much already. I promise to keep up with my writing baby, I love you so much.

After writing I closed my notebook and went to have breakfast, I am so glad that the aversions are finally letting on and that I am able to eat whatever I want, which in this moment was some waffles.

After breakfast I got ready and started working, surprisingly I finished early and decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, the weather was nice, and I desperately needed some fresh air. There has been a though bugging me since I found out I am pregnant, and I decided to check in with Harry to ask him.

To H. Styles (4:34 PM): Hi, how are you? I hope shooting is going well. I wanted to ask you if you would mind me reaching out to Olivia and apologizing; after all this is a two people thing and I am as responsible for this as you are.

From H. Styles (4:36 PM): Hi! Shooting is going well, how are you? Any changes? Regarding Olivia, if you feel comfortable doing so, I won’t be opposed, not gonna lie, things between us are not good right now, so the only thing that worries me is if she thinks I sent you.

To H. Styles (4:38 PM): Everything is going well, no changes since you last saw them. I’m sorry to hear that, I promise I won’t mention her that we spoke, but I did want to let you know.

From H. Styles (4:39 PM): Thank you, it means a lot to me.

I decided I had enough sunshine for today and I walked home but stopped to get some dinner, I really wanted sushi, but I wasn’t allowed to have it right now, so I settled for Chinese. I arrived home and I decided that I was time to let my parents know.

I am surprised that they hadn’t already called me after the post, but then again, they don’t have social media and my siblings agreed to keep the secret. After my mom answered that they were available I took a deep breath before calling her, I knew that seeing her through Facetime would be a lot.

“Hi mom, how are you?”, “Hi darling, we are well how are you? I’m surprised that you called”, “Yeah sorry about that, it has been a few rough weeks”, “Oh really? And what could be so rough that you didn’t call for three weeks huh? We don’t ask much of you”, “I’m pregnant”, the line went quiet, the only thing I could hear were my breaths and my mom’s breaths.

“Mom?”, “Is it his?”, his as in Harry’s, it was no secret they were not the biggest Harry fans from the beginning of our relationship and had made nonstop comments on our break up, “Yes”, I heard her sigh and my dad come into the call, “Hello honey, how are you?”, “Pregnant, that’s how she is”, my mom answered bitterly, my dad laughed “Bear, what a funny joke”, “Daddy, it’s not a joke”.

“Honey, what happened?”, I started crying, “I don’t know daddy, I was in LA for some job meetings and decided to stay the week, I met him by chance, we went for dinner, and I’ll spare you the details, but he knows and has been really present all throughout”, “Oh baby, so you are back together then?”, my stomach dropped, “Uhm no, he is still with Olivia”, “WHAT?”, I had to remove the phone from my ear with the scream my mom gave, “So you are the other woman?”

“No mom, I am not the other woman, we are trying to figure everything out”, “Yeah, until he abandons you, how could you be so reckless? And worse of all, a cheater”, ouch, my mom knew how to touch nerves, “It’s not like that”, my dad had remained quiet, and I never expected him to say, “I’m sorry Y/N but your mom is right”, “What? Daddy-“, “No, I’m sorry but this has crossed a line; you knew he was dating someone, and you still chose to have sex with him, so now you will have to live with the consequences”, “What do you mean?”, “We will not condole or tolerate things like this, so I am asking you to please refrain from contacting us”

My heart dropped, “Daddy you don’t mean that”, “Yes, we do, I hope you learn from your mistakes and choices”, and they hung up the phone; the first ten minutes I was in total denial, my parents couldn’t have really meant that could they? I decided to call them again, and that’s when I knew: they meant it, I was sent straight to voicemail, and when I tried the third time it wouldn’t even go through.

I was panicking, my whole life was falling right in front of my eyes, and I felt like I couldn’t do anything about it, but why? Why did they abandon me? I felt like I was running out of breath and like throwing up at any given moment, I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom and hovered over the toilet for a few moments.

After the nausea passed, I was able to leave the bathroom, I sat down on the couch and grabbed my phone, I was starting to dial Harry’s number, but I decided against it, it didn’t feel right after what my parents told me.

As if someone was listening to my thoughts I got a call, I looked to see who it was and was very surprised to see Sarah’s name, we were really good friends while I dated Harry and was one of the people who I was so sad to let go when we broke up. I answered the phone.

“Miss Sarah Jones, what a pleasant surprise, how are you?”, “Hi lovely! I’ve missed you, how have you been?”, “I’m okay thank you, how about you mama? Ready to pop”, she laughed “Not quite but getting there, little baby is getting excited to come out; speaking of… congratulations to you too mama!”

I smiled, “Thank you, still feels like a dream you know?”, “I do honey, it was like that for me, I mean it had already like sunk in when we heard the heartbeat and had our ultrasounds but when I popped it was like a revelation moment. But really, how are you? You know we are friends with you too”

I started crying when I heard her say that, if there was something I was grateful for it was the friends I made while dating him, and the fact that they considered me their friend and not just a friend because I was a lover, “Uhm, I don’t know where to begin, I mean, my life did take a 360 in two months, I feel like the most stupid person for even agreeing to go with him to dinner and even worse to have agreed to go home with him, for not being able to give my baby a traditional family, oh and my parents basically disowned me and told me to not contact them again”

“Why me Sarah? I was doing just fine, I was starting to get my life back and finding some normalcy, especially after trying to accept and cope with the fact that he was moving on so quickly”, I sobbed for a few more seconds “I’m sorry, that was a lot”, we both laughed a little bit.

“I really want to go to New York and hug you honey, first and foremost, please for the love of God if you ever feel this way again, call me, text me, facetime me I don’t care, I don’t want for you to feel like this, I know that timing was not perfect, but what I’ve learned is that even if we don’t think so, timing is perfect, and that little baby has a reason to be here lovie”

“As for a ‘traditional family’, that is not how family is defined, what matters the most is that this baby is already loved and cared and cherished by a whole lot of people, he or she will never question if mom or dad loves them more or why are you not together, because you and H are two of the purest, most wonderful human beings there are on the planet”

“Thank you, Sarah, I really mean it, I am so sorry I cut ties with you guys, I won’t do that again”, “You better not, we are belly buddies now, I love you Y/N, you are not alone”, “I love you more, please say hi to Mitch for me”, Will do love”

I hung up with a lighter heart and a newfound sense of gratitude for every person I have met.

June 6, 2021: Week Thirteen

New York City, New York. 15:34 PM

To Olivia Wilde (13:31 PM): Hi Olivia, I know I am probably the last person you wish to speak to, but it would mean a lot to me if we could talk?

From Olivia Wilde (14:05 PM): Hi, it’s okay, maybe we could talk later, like 4 your time? Kids will still be in school.

I was shaking as I continued watching the clock tick, I knew this had to be done but it didn’t mean it was easy. I thought back to the day I met Olivia, it was late, and they had just finished filming so Harry texted me if I wanted to go to dinner with them, I couldn’t say no

I am not going to say that were the best of friends, but we had a cordial relationship, I was closer with Florence (who by the way was very open on expressing her feelings towards Harry and Olivia after the breakup) but she was nice whenever I visited set, or we met for a social gathering.

A buzz pulled me out of my thoughts, and I took a deep breath before answering, “Hello?”, “Hey, uhm its Olivia, sorry dumb comment you must have caller ID”, “Hey, how are you? Not dumb at all, better to be sure”, “I am well, how about you”, “I’m taking it day by day”, there was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before I decided to talk, “Olivia, I’m so sorry”, “No Y/N-“, “Please let me say what I need to say, because it has been giving me so much anxiety”, I took her silence as a cue to continue.

“I am really sorry, and there is no excuse for what happened, and I feel so guilty because you don’t deserve this, and I’m mad because I have caused trouble between you and Harry when the only thing, I ever wanted for you guys was to be happy together. It would be easy for me to say that it was his fault, but I know that I have half of the responsibility here and I needed to tell you this and to also ask you to please don’t overthink things, it was a drunk mistake that shouldn’t have happened, but I won’t be a liar and tell you that I am not happy that it did, because I am happy to have a baby, because I know that this baby already is the love of and my life and I can’t wait to meet him or her”

“Y/N, I am not angry, well not with you at least, I want to thank you for reaching out, it really means a lot to me, especially because I was nervous that you had reached out because he had asked you, but you just showed me that you are the bigger person on this situation just please, do me a favor?”

“Sure”, “Please don’t break his heart, he is just as excited for this, but very nervous nonetheless”, “I promise you that I won’t break his heart”.

We hung up and I decided to shoot a text to Harry before going to bed, this phone call left me drained.

To H. Styles (6:47 PM): We talked, everything is good.

June 12, 2021: Week Fourteen

New York City, New York. 9:30 Am

I had just returned from the Farmer’s Market when I got a text from Gemma, and I was thankful I had left my shopping in the table because it would have probably ended on the floor.

From Gemma Styles (9:35 AM): Hey stranger, you up for a FaceTime call? Mom and I would love to see you.

From Gemma Styles (9:36 AM): Hi! Yes! Just give me a couple of minutes.

I went to my room to get my laptop and charger and fixed myself a glass of water and grabbed an apple before settling down on the couch and dialing Gem, it rang three times before she answered, and I felt tears brought to my eyes when I saw her and Anne smiling at me.

“Oh honey! Hi! You’re glowing!”, “Damn sis, pregnancy has done you good huh?”, I laughed a little, “Hello to you too, you are both the sweetest because I am definitely feeling unattractive and sick”, we all shared a laugh; God how I have missed them.

“I guess some congrats Nana Anne and Auntie Gem are in order huh?”, I saw Anne tear up, “Oh lovie, I want to hug you so bad, I am so so happy for you and Harry”, “Just wanted to let you know that I will corrupt your child”, “Gemma!”, we laughed as Anne hit her in the arm, “But, in all seriousness, how are we doing? In all aspects darling and don’t you dare lie because I will figure out.

“I am okay, morning sickness is getting better, belly is still to pop but I think it will be soon judging from the ligament pain I’ve had; I am in a better headspace now and I am so excited to meet this baby, to kiss his or her cheeks and to do everything”, I was tearing up.

“We are so happy to hear that, I know pregnancy is hard, but it will be so worthy; I will send you some advice by message, after all I was also pregnant with a Styles baby”, “Thank you Anne, I will be looking forward to it.

We chatted a little bit more about life, how was this world still treating us and how they really hope to be able to be here when baby arrives, “Speaking of, when are you due?” I could feel Gemma’s excitement through the screen.

“Well Betty my midwife has given me like two possible due dates, one is December 6, just at 39 weeks but she thinks that I’ll deliver on my actual 40-week due date which is December 13”, “Oh my god! The same day that Fine Line came out”, “I really hope that by that time we are able to travel, I would honestly be heartbroken if I missed the birth”, “I would be too Anne”.

After talking for about another hour we finally said our goodbyes, I put away my shopping, prepared some lunch and sat on the couch to eat and watch a movie while also stalking Twitter to see where he was.

Even if we were broken up, I still yearned for him.

Taglist @tinydestinybear @harry-is-my-sunflower @onlyamylee @adorejaell @dirtytissuebox

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

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

Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

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

“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

[writingtoforgetreality]

Sleep Paralysis (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: You hated sharing a room with another person. Especially when it came to sleeping. Which usually resulted into you staying awake for the night if you were teamed up with someone. Sometimes you could not escape exhaustion, though.

Words: 2,381

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, insomnia, experiencing sleep paralysis, anxiety, TFATWS spoilers (I don’t think there are any but just to be sure I guess), Zemo awakens the poet in me idk, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The people you found yourself teamed up with gave you safety. Sam, Bucky & even Zemo. With the three of them on your side, you had nothing to fear. Missions with these guys were easy. If the two grown ass men children were not occupied with killing the other grown ass man child. Names were not needed here, that was explanation enough. You were surprised yourself when you started enjoying Zemo’s company. He was a criminal. He was supposed to be the bad guy. So why could you not view him as such? Was it the way he moved his body? Was it his hair which fell in place just perfectly imperfect? Was it his coat that accentuated the weight of the world he carried on his shoulders alone? Was it his smile that was just the tiniest bit bigger whenever he glanced at you? Was it that stupid head tilt thing that was everything but stupid to you? What the hell was it? And why the hell was resisting your urges so damn hard?

Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you but you could have sworn that his eyes fell on you, no matter how big the crowd. You could have sworn that his body searched out your presence wherever you went. There was this unspoken thing between you guys. As much as you wanted to address the tension building up, you were apprehensive what your best friends would say about it. You were doubtful how he would receive the news. Your ever growing friendship was at risk. The mere thought of having to live your life without him was inconceivable. How did it work before he came along? It was like your brain erased those memories altogether. Truthfully, he changed your life around without having an idea of the effect he had on you. Or he did know but enjoyed messing with your feelings. Though he did not strike you as that type of man.

Countless nights were spent with you having deep, meaningful conversations. Thanks to those times, you perceived his side of the story. His motives & what drove him to the actions that brought him behind bars in the end. By no means were you trying to justify his crimes. There would have been multiple different ways. Back then, the only purpose for him was revenge. Apologies that came too late were given. Zemo truly was sorry. And while words & emotions could be faked easily, it was impossible to hide the deeper meaning that his eyes held. The softness, the wariness, he could not simulate this. Those beautiful brown orbs were withholding years worth of tears. It was not your position to force him to display his weakness in front of you. Sometimes, simply knowing that another person was available if needed, that was enough.

The same feeling of secureness was provided by him. Your past was not necessarily pleasant either. Innumerable regrets labeled your existence. You were not a good example of a hero. Every day, you contemplated the what-if’s. Overthinking was part of your diurnal routine. All the pondering was needless. The switch only shifted after the beginnings of Zemo’s nocturnal reassurances. Without him, you would still be stuck in that gloomy pit your body had constructed on its own. You two were reliant on each other. Not physically but mentally. Unpretentiously, small touches followed. Brushing his thumbs over your smooth skin on the back of your hand. Squeezing your shoulders gingerly. Goosebumps erupted each time his body warmth was transferred to yours. Whether he wore his leather gloves or not, your body responded with endless fireworks that launched from deep inside.

The hotel you entered radiated wealth. Zemo negotiated the reservations. Which was obvious by the mere impression of the lofty ceilings that were embellished with immense sparkling chandeliers. Your eyes overstrained from the extravagance, switching from one highlight to the next. As a regular citizen, your income denied you such a lifestyle. Avengers did not earn a fortune, this trait came with the job description. Meaning that you would savor every little ticking of your stay. The marvelous high of contentment ceased when the receptionist informed you of an immutable adjustment concerning your room situation. The only two vacant premises were a king size in one & two singles in the other. Apparently, the decision was resolved without you having a say in it. Your questions were answered with a definite proclamation. You were the only soul unable to kill the Baron. Your attempts to conceal your embarrassment were unsuccessful. The smirk adorning Zemo’s features was unhelpful in your current position. Sam & Bucky abandoned you in the entrance, heading off to their room to rest after a tiring mission.

Zemo demanded your luggage to be brought up to your chambers. One of his hands rested on your lower back. This motion warmed your body. It was so simple yet filled with extensive care. It should have been wrong but you have never felt more protected in your entire life. One thing worried you. Sharing a room with the man who brought out your true happiness. It was no secret that you suffered from insomnia. Usually, it vanished after indefinite missions. The interminable flight in Zemo’s private jet added up to your exhaustion. Under no circumstances would you sleep in a room with the Baron. The trust existed, that was not the issue. What happened during your slumber could not be controlled. The tossing, turning, screaming. Nightmares invaded your dreams every time you closed your eyes. Therefore, you obviated sleep as long as possible. Multiple cups of coffee, the heavy does of caffeine every day, aided your wish to stay up. If you narrated a good enough excuse, he would not inquire. At least, that was what you hoped.

Stepping through the tall door into the spacious room, you stopped dead in your tracks. You needed a second to take everything in. Never before had you occupied such a luxurious chamber. It resembled a suite. Different shades of warm colors complemented each other. The vast windows enabled your view of the city beneath. Colorful lights brought the dead of the dim night to life. Facing the stars aligning the somber night sky, Zemo arranged himself next to you. Minutes of silence enveloped you, filling the room to the brink. The man next to you fractured the quietness with whispers. He pointed out various constellations. Observantly, you absorbed his words. He was cultured but never bragged about it. His sentiment of deliberate timing was unique. One of his characteristics was fathoming when to quit talking. Or when it was suitable to speak. Zemo constantly knew how to ease the tension with his thoughtful comments.

“You take the bed. I am content with resting on the couch.” he proposed. As much as you appreciated his deliberation, you pronounced the contrary.

“No, Helmut. I won’t sleep anyway, you can have the bed.” your gentle smile underlined the tiredness emanating from your eyes. He tilted his head to one side, observing your body language.

“You have not rested after our mission yet. Not even during the flight where Sam, James & I slept.” he annotated, worry audible in his voice. Your shoulders lifted in a short shrug. Alleging that you were fine. Spending hours with you concluded to him comprehending your lies. Your features were different whenever you attempted feigning him. Approaching your figure in the barely illuminated room, he halted a few steps away from you. Movements of his hands caught your attention. The gloves were peeled off. Lifting one of his arms, you shivered when his skin touched your cheek affectionately. His fingers caressed your face so lovingly, your eyes closed instinctively. “You are exhausted, darling.” his words were soft, soothing your ears by the fragility of them. The space between you two was narrow. You breathed the same air. His body heat passed onto you. Your heart sped up, almost as if it could break out any second. Nobody had ever made you feel that way. Nodding obediently, Zemo dragged you closer to the soft mattress covered with silk sheets. It was a desired invitation. It did not last long before you gave in. The smooth material welcomed you. Realizing Zemo’s retreating steps, your hand reached for his wrist, freezing his tries. He glanced over his shoulder bewildered.

“Stay.” it was music to his ears, hearing your quiet proposition. Holding himself back, he shook his head briefly. A signal that he did not want to disturb you. “Please.” his face softened at your plea. How could he resist your sweet voice? How could he resist you when it was obvious that you wished for him to stay with you?

“Okay.” pulling back the blankets, he lied right behind you. Your back was facing him. The shock was only brief when your hand searched for his arm. Draping it over your waist, you sighed contently when he embraced you tighter. It was not just what you needed. This, it was required by him as well.

Peaceful hours of cuddling went by without disruption. The calm was interrupted by your eyes snapping open in fear. Your back was against the mattress. Staring at the tall ceiling, your breath quickened when you could not move. Could not talk. Could not scream. There was not a single thing that could be done but you awaited the bad that would arrive soon. It was not the first time you experienced such a situation. The pressure in your chest grew steadily, obstructing your breathing. Your muscles ached, your head pounded. Someone would murder you. If you did not rise soon, death would come knocking on your door. Your attempts to push away the sheets & your labored breath stirred the man next to you awake. His confusion ended when he noticed your struggles. Propping his head onto one of his arms, he scooted closer to your body. Zemo knew what you were going through at the moment. While he had never suffered from such a period himself, he had read about it. Your eyes widened when his locked onto yours. The fear was visible even without a light illuminating the room. His free hand moved to your cheek. In the process, he whispered sweet nothings to you in hopes that they would reach you. Irregular breaths were still very much present. Though you had him with you, your anxiety was acting up still. Your mind was determined that you would die in a few minutes.

“Hey, hey, hey. Darling, look at me.” your eyes slowly shifted from the ceiling to his dark, almost black ones. They were a beautiful shade of brown but it was too sinister to detect the different hues. “There you go.” his voice was steady, controlled. “What you are experiencing is called sleep paralysis. It means that you are awake but your body is asleep still. It will be over soon, I promise. This might feel life threatening to you but I’m here, okay? I am here with you & I will not let anything happen to you.” his eyebrows raised expectantly. The most you could give him was a useless attempt of a nod. His fingers stroked over your skin, bringing you comfort. You were not on your own. Zemo held you close to his body. Still unable to move, the one thing you could feel was his body heat. Minutes without change went by. Affirmations were whispered into the quiet of the ample room. Your leg shuffled the blankets. A small smile crept onto your face. Finally, you had control again. Your muscles were no longer frozen in place. Overwhelmed by the sudden liberty, you embraced Zemo into a tight hug. Reciprocating immediately, he held your head in place in the crook of his neck. His other arm raked around your waist, keeping you as close as possible. He assured you that you were alright. That nobody & nothing could hurt you. Not when he was around. The silent tears rolling down your cheeks were inevitable. They stained his shirt but he could not care less. All that mattered was you overcoming the feeling of uncontrollability. Maybe it was his explanation. Or his proximity. Or his sweet words calming you down. In the end, the cause was insignificant. Zemo helped you through this & there were no words to express your gratitude to him.

Pulling away slightly, he rested his forehead against yours. You mimicked his deep breaths, disposing of the last bits of worry. When you were in his presence, it was gratuitous to be fearful. Demons had no chance. Not when it came to Zemo. The next reaction came naturally. This time, you did not fight the urge to press your lips onto his. You took his breath away by the unexpected action. There were no complaints from his side. Both hands rested on your face, bringing you closer if it was even feasible. In your imagination, you recalled kissing Zemo to be heated. This right now was the exact opposite. No words could depict what emotions were rushing through your entire body. Descriptions were useless if you could demonstrate it with a simple kiss. After it ended, silence sheathed you two once again. It was everything but unpleasant. He kept holding onto you. Zemo would never judge you because of nightmares or similar occurrences. Your head rested on his chest, above his heart. The beat calming your nerves even further. Explaining that you had always suffered from the monsters of the night, he did not interrupt. You needed to confide & he was more than happy to be available. Another soft kiss was pressed on top of your head. A content sigh left your lips. Zemo assured you that he would stay, no matter what. He was in this for good. Whatever this was. Time would clarify the relationship between you two. All you knew was that it felt right. Having him close to you. Having him as your protector. Having him to brighten up your days. Simply having him. That was adequate. That was your unspoken wish. You expected a lot but you did not expect the fulfillment of a previous unknown dream. You were home.

Published (04/21/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @eristudytime, @hiraethmaximoff, @incansas, @fionanovasleftnut, @mundaytuesday, @ashamed23, @pedropascallovebot, @kpoptrash2000, @lulu-yuming, @bibliophilewednesday, @arctic--ash, @mischiefmanaged71, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @tatooineisdry, @obsidian-queen, @h0ly-fire, @dxnxdjarxn (thanks for your support <3)

[kyberheart]

A Deceitful Creation Part #1 -  Wolffe x F!Reader

Part #2

Summary: You’ve been trying for a while now to get pregnant with your lover. Knowing that may never happen, you ask for some outside help from Wolffe on the down-low...

Word Count: 1483

Warnings: 18+, piv sex, infidelity, pregnancy/trying for a baby, cursing, angst

A/N: Heyyyyyyyy.... I’m still here! I had some stuff going on this past week so I missed my Friday fic upload, but hey! It’s Sunday, only missed it by a few days so whatever. I’m still working on part #3 of my little Techy-boy story. Hopefully will be finished by Friday the 3rd! Heh... part #3 on the 3rd... perfect. ANYWAY I hope you like this little blurb I wrote. I wanted maximum sad with lots of OOF. I kept the summary and header as vague as possible to not spoil the end. Good luck in there!

(Ao3 Link if ya want it)

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

Wolffe was different with you. All teeth and tongue and nails dug into the plump flesh of your thighs. The look adorning his eyes in this moment is akin to a knife’s edge; he was holding back as not to tear you to shreds.

Your lover on the other hand, well… he was the whisper of a cool breeze in the night. A cascading avalanche of stolen breaths and languid strokes. Completely and utterly tender with you.

“C-close Wolffe, almost…I’m—!”

He nods, stooping to kiss you, but swiftly retracts his head with a tiny scowl. He knew the rules. No marks that can’t be covered up, no pet names, and under no circumstances can he kiss you. This was just a mutually beneficial transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I got you… I got you…”

He’s reaching down, down, down to make contact with your clit. You keen, dropping your head back into the mattress. He fucks you through your orgasm, spilling inside of you as your legs wrap tightly around his waist. You tremble under him as you come down from your high. In a blur of muscle-memory Wolffe is reaching behind you for a pillow. He props your hips upward with it, grinding into you a few more times to make sure his seed is in there nice and deep.

“If this isn’t the one, I’m not sure if I can help. Maybe what they say is true, maybe we’re all infertile. I mean, I’ve heard rumors of defectors running off and getting people knocked up, but…” He shrugs, pulling out of you to head into the ‘fresher. You sigh, staring at the grey ceiling above you. That really wasn’t the case. Some were infertile, yes. You knew that all too well…

“I’m headed out. I have a supply run to facilitate. You alright?”

Wolffe grunts as he snaps his scratched armor around himself. He wasn’t much for conversations after the act. Rather, he preferred to be on his merry way as fast as possible. It wasn’t so much to avoid catching feelings as it was to steer clear of talking. He was undoubtedly the most stand-offish of the clones you knew. You were often surprised at how easy it was to lure him into the bedroom with how hostile his demeanor could be. Though on second thought he was just a normal guy. Sex is just as fun for him as it is for others.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks Wolffe. If this one doesn’t stick I’ll leave you alone.”

He pauses to search your face. You smile at him, wrapping your arms around your chest with a sleepy yawn. A garbled message blips from his forearm, which he answers with a quick acknowledgement before seating his helmet onto his head.

“Understood. I’ll see you around. Say hi to my vod for me when he gets back.”

And with that, he’s silently leaving your apartment into the void beyond. In the silence of the room your mind wanders once more. You think of your lover. Where was he right now? Somewhere far, far away? Somewhere he was safe? Was he warm, fed, and happy?

The cool dribble of Wolffe’s cum down your thigh snaps you from your rumination. You glance at the clock, finding it’s already been twenty minutes since he’d left. More than enough time, you think. With a quick curl of your spine you’re up on your feet and heading to the ‘fresher for a nice long shower. Hopefully when you were out you’d have a comm or a message from your lover.

----------------- He hunches low, lips hovering so close to your ear his hot breaths could have burned a hole through your head.

“That’s it baby, such a good girl. Just a—oh, squeezing me so tight tonight, huh? This’ll be the one, the kriffing ONE. Gonna fuck you full, fill you up to bursting. Make you s-swell with my baby. Can’t wait to see you like that… all mine…”

You cum so hard the world around you dissipates into nothing but him. He growls, pitching you forward with his angled thrusts. His hips crush you into the bed as he cums right along with you. His amber eyes sizzle with freshly tapped desire. Whispered adorations mingle between the two of you, lost to the spinning darkness of the night. When you’ve calmed your heaving breaths, you reach up to grab one of the pillows above you. He helps you position it under your hips before kissing you roughly. Between pecks, he speaks with a heart full of gentle sweetness.

“I’ll keep doing this—you’ll see. We’ll have a little one running around before you know it. Our little adi’ka… yeah…”

His eyes grow distant, lips stilling at the nape of your neck. You huff, smacking his shoulder with your hand.

“I know babe, don’t worry. With how much you’ve been between my legs I think we’ll be having LOTS of them running around.”

You wink at him, leaning up to kiss him again. He chuckles, reciprocating your heavy prodding tongue with his own within your mouth.

“I just… I know we’ve been trying for over a year… what if I...”

You shoot him a frown, tilting your head up to look him straight in the eyes. The fact of the matter was daunting and sat like tepid acid on your tongue. If he knew he wasn’t able to sire children, it would truly break him.

“NO! You are perfectly fine the way you are. I’d know, remember? I’m chief medical officer here dummy. You—WE have nothing to worry about. It’ll happen when the time is right. Trust me.”

He smiles at you, the sight of which could warm even the frostiest planet of Hoth into the dunes of Tatooine. All your love, all your patience and turmoil and sympathy and curiosity and… kriff, you’re everything was him. All him, always was and always will be. Him.

-------------------- The vividness of your dream wakes you with a start. It seemed to be recurring the last few days, a memory of the last time you and your lover were together. You shake your head of the images that haunted you. If only he was home, you wouldn’t worry so much about him.

It had already been a few weeks since Wolffe had occupied your bed. A queasy feeling was beginning to settle low in your stomach. Your lover hadn’t been back in a long while, and you were starting to think something wasn’t right.

You rise to pee, realizing in the dimly lit hush of dawn that this was becoming a frequent occurrence for you. When your shirt brushes a bit too roughly against one of your nipples you yelp. Were they always so sore in the morning? Wait…

Could this be it? A surge of adrenaline hits you like a Hammerhead Corvette as you rush into the ‘fresher. Not long after, you have a small white strip laying on your counter. Your knee bobs with anticipation, head in your hands as you sit on the hard tiled floor. This might just be it!

As the lines swell in the tiny viewport, you force yourself to breathe as deeply as possible. The memory pushes it’s way to the front of your mind once more to taunt you, to make you feel a twinge of guilt at what you’ve done. With a groan you run your fingers soothingly through your hair. You knew you could do this. Joy, passion, and relief would pave over the deceit from which this baby would be born. Your lover would never know the truth, but it was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Forging a life, a family for the two of you was all that mattered right now.

The time is up. The minutes counted down with bated breaths. A scream tears its way from your throat as you see the result:

Pregnant

Before you can have a full-blown excitement meltdown, a beeping from the other room draws your attention. Your comm sits on your nightstand, signaling you of an incoming message. The words flash on the screen as you wipe tears from your eyes:

Dropping in to save a Jedi Master on Lola Sayu. Don’t worry, should be home before your pretty little head hits the pillow. See you soon my love. My heart is yours, forever.

Oh, you were squealing with delight now. It was finally happening! For REAL! This was a dream come true. A baby… you were going to have a baby! And your lover was going to be home by the end of the day. You wanted to comm him, send him a picture of the test, yell it to the kriffing UNIVERSE that you were fulfilling a long-awaited dream. Both of you were. You calmed yourself, resolving to tell him in person when he got home.

You couldn’t wait until Echo was back!

[nev3rfound]

the other widow : b.b

natasha may have left what she once knew behind when she became an avenger, but there is still so much more to learn about her sister who escaped the red room with the help of a certain metal armed soldier. (3k)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

requested: yes! this has been a long awaited idea from @ateliefloresdaprimavera i hope you like it love :) warnings: mentions of violence, blood, nightmares. obviously, I haven't seen the black widow movie so this is just my interpretation!

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

In another life, things might've been different for you. Perhaps, you could have left your home country and followed many your age in their quest to find a better life in America or Europe. You might have met someone, a kind man who took care of you, who loved you deeply.

That would have been nice, in another lifetime. But it wasn't reality, at least, not yours.

Your reality was living in a world plagued by nightmares, of what was done to you for many years. It hurt to blink as you saw yourself, lying back on that table as Doctors crowded around you, muttering about the success of their work.

"No, she's still out there," Your ears perk up at the conversation behind you. The kitchen window remains open whilst you sit outside, tugging at the rose petals from the rose bush. It always was too pretty. Pretty things aren't designed to last for long.

Melina sighs heavily into her phone, glancing away from the window. "What do you expect me to do? She doesn't go anywhere." Disappointment laces her tone combined with the tiredness of her mind. She's been trying for months to encourage you to go out, further than the land you live on.

Faintly you can hear the other end of the conversation, Melina always had a habit of keeping her phone on speaker. "I might visit soon." That is all you managed to hear, but it was enough for you to drop the remainder of the rose and crush the petals beneath your feet.

"Oh good, you're awake." A pair of gloves snap against his wrists, causing you to flinch in your seat. "Now, Y/n, there's no point trying to struggle, you know what happened last time." Doctor Yeznik reminds you with a twisted smile, waiting for you to nod.

"They deserved it." You dare to mutter, only to hear Yeznik chuckle before he turns back to face you, gripping your face in his hand.

"And you deserve this." He seethes, stabbing a needle into your arm before you can fight back. "No one is coming to save you, Y/n, never forget that." Yeznik whispers, watching as your eyes begin to droop until you're unable to fight the urge to sleep.

Rising to your feet, you can feel a smile ghost your lips at the sight of a Blue Tit perching on the edge of the birdbath. One of his wings isn't quite right, and as you approach it, it remains perfectly still.

Holding your hands out, you ignore the scars from the restraints still marking your wrists and forearms. "I won't hurt you," You tell the bird as it dips its head into the water, shaking the excess off. "I can help you, little one." You add quietly, only to watch the bird retreat and fly away uneasily.

"There's always next time." Melina calls out from the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Yeah," You nod, lowering your arms and bury your hands into your pockets. "if it makes it through the night without being able to fly far."

Entering the kitchen, you pass Alexei in silence, despite him turning his head to speak up.

Once out of sight, Alexei averts his attention to Melina who simply shakes her head. "She's still working on recovering." Melina sighs, taking a seat opposite the broad man. "The, the red room got worse after Natasha escaped."

"You don't have to explain," Alexei waves her off, aware of you standing at the top of the stairs, listening in due to the creak of the floorboards. "it'll take time."

"I just don't know if that's something we have." Melina comments, passing a burner phone to Alexei with a text message on display.

Shifting in his seat, Alexei looks back at Melina before crushing the phone in his grasp. "We'll do what we can." He mutters before silence ensues and the pressure from the floorboard beneath your feet eases as you return to your needed solitude.

*

Opening your eyes, you knew something was off, something was different within the house.

Underneath your pillow, you grab ahold of your gun before traipsing out from your room which remains in permanent darkness.

As you exit your bedroom, light tries to seep through the gap in the door but you quietly close it, keeping the darkness concealed from the light.

Avoiding any creaking floorboards, you keep your gun aimed at all times before the faint sound of laughter catches your attention from downstairs. It was a rarity to hear anything joyous in the household, mostly arguments occurred or stories of fights Alexei shares that you can recite from memory if you were ever asked.

But this was different, something lighthearted shared for a brief moment before you turn the corner and hover by the kitchen doorway seeing all the seats taken at the table, Melina's now taken by a redhead.

"This is a surprise." You speak up, placing your gun on the counter, now catching everyone's attention.

Smiling to Yelena, Natasha quickly turns around in her chair, leaning her arm over the back. "Hey sis," She greets you, her accent replaced by an American version. "long time no see, huh?"

Everyone in the room remains still, waiting for you to make the first move like a scared animal. You'll either scarper or approach with caution, and even at that moment, you're unsure which route you'll take.

"What brings you back here?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you remain standing, despite Alexei rising to his feet and offering you his chair.

"There's some unfinished business I have to deal with." Natasha states, and Yelena motions for you to come closer whilst Natasha has her back turned.

"And we're being dragged into it somehow?" You're quick to comment, remembering the last time it happened which resulted in your previous home being burnt to the ground and Natasha vanishing into thin air once more.

Rising to her feet, Natasha walks over to the doorway leading into the garden. She doesn't wait for you to follow, but she knows eventually you will.

"She means well, Y/n." Yelena tells you whilst playing with a knife, jabbing it against the table despite Melina swatting it away.

Humming to yourself, you force your feet forward until you're outside, listening to the peaceful presence of nature.

Whilst you're in your own world temporarily, Natasha can't help but take the opportunity to observe you, notice the changes since she last saw you. Melina explained the nightmares you've been having of late, how you wake up clawing at your own skin until it bleeds and you clutching onto a pillow, tearing into the cotton with ease as you sob.

You look visibly drained, that much Natasha can tell. She knew she should've brought you with her, away to America the last time she was here, but there wasn't enough time. She watched you from afar as the building fell into itself, devoured by the flames and you looking around for your sister, nowhere to be seen.

"There's a little blue tit who visits daily now," You begin to explain, opening your eyes as they remain trained on the empty birdbath. "he's got a damaged wing, can't fly very far but he always visits." Moving closer to the bath, you can see the reflection of other birds flying above in groups. One or two flies further back from the others, flapping their wings in desperation to not be left behind; something you know all too well.

As your hands rest on the birdbath, Natasha can see the scars across your skin clearly.

"Y/n, I never got a chance to apologise last time I was here," Natasha begins, stepping closer toward you, yet you seem oblivious to her words.

"And I hope at some point he'll let me help him, mend him back to his best so he can fly away." Your lips rise for a second at the thought before returning to a straight line, now allowing yourself to process Natasha's statement. "You don't need to apologise, Nat."

"But I do, Y/n." Natasha urges as she resists reaching out for your hand, knowing no one touches you anymore unless they dare risk a broken bone or two. "I should've found you in there and taken you with me. You were still a child, I,"

"I don't blame you, sister." Turning to face her, you force yourself to smile, an attempt to reassure her as she frowns deeply. "The only person I blame for everything is Yeznik." You can't help but shudder, hearing his voice in the back of your mind, one of the many who taunts you in your sleep.

"That's why I'm here." Natasha states.

You can't stop the scoff from leaving your lips. "You can't be serious, Natasha." Yet, you watch your sister nod immediately. "Do you want to get yourself killed?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She retorts, catching you off guard. "Don't think I don't know about the truth behind your escape, Y/n."

"What are you talking about?" You question, knowing better than to confess to your sister of all people. "I escaped that hell hole on my own. Killed several guards in the process and escaped with nine bullet wounds." You remind her, lifting your shirt to show the bullet wound scars that never properly healed.

"But you didn't escape from the Red Room. You escaped during a mission." She explains, watching your expression falter for half a second, but it was enough for her to know you're lying.

Shaking your head, you back away toward the small hutch hidden beneath an oak tree that currently houses three rabbits.

"That is preposterous, even for me, Natasha." You chuckle, opening the hutch and reach for the number one who happily hops out and stands beside you.

Looking away from you, Natasha can see the three others watching closely from the kitchen window. She can see Yelena mouthing something, but rolls her eyes when Natasha shakes her head.

"The Winter Soldier." Yelena marches over, causing you to tense up and the rabbit hops back into the hutch as you gently lock it once more. "Remember him, Y/n?"

"His name is Bucky." You mutter under your breath before slowly standing up. "And don't you dare talk about him." You spit at Yelena who spares Natasha a look.

"You helped each other escape, didn't you?" Natasha pushes her question, and this time to her surprise you don't object.

"Follow me," You sigh, walking around the garden to a set of stairs, leading you to the rooftop filled with trees and plants.

Admiring the greenery, Natasha hesitantly follows behind you.

"You going to stand there all day or sit down?" Raising a brow to Natasha, she breathes out a laugh and sits down on one of the seats dotted around that isn't taken by a plant.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Natasha leans forward, resting her forearms on her thighs and you mirror her action.

"Yes." You mutter. "But I can't remember everything it, part of it I blocked out." You admit, feeling your leg already beginning to shake beneath you.

"You will be accompanied this time, Y/n." Your tutor, Ms Ivanov tugs on your ponytail forcefully whilst you remain seated.

"I don't need company." Tugging your head forward, her fingers fall through the ends of your hair and she hums in response. "I'm capable of this myself."

Ms Ivanov chuckles under her breath before standing in front of your desk, resting her hands on the sides as her eyes fixate on yours. "That might be so, but not this time." Pushing her hands from your desk, Ivanov nods to the closed door.

Within seconds someone is forced through the metal frame with a bag covering their face. They're of a large build, but your eyes widen at the sight of metal making up their left arm.

"Is it?" Your question leaves your lips before you've fully thought about what this means, and Ivanov smirks.

Stepping toward the concealed figure, she tugs the sheet from their face, revealing a mass of brown hair.

He lifts his head up and stares at you immediately those pensive blue eyes you've heard whispers of. He fights against his restraints as two guards stand behind him with loaded guns.

"There will be plenty of time for that, soldat." Ivanov laughs, patting his metal arm. "Now, Y/n. It's time to go."

*

"I don't know what happened on that mission. But when I woke up, I, I was free." Unable to look at your sister, your focus lies on the breeze weaving through the branches of the trees.

Natasha leans forward, wishing she could tell you everything she knew. "You saved each other, Y/n." She speaks up, remembering the last time she saw him, a broken shell of the man he once was, his demeanour mirroring yours.

"I guess," You shrug. "but after everything, I, I have no idea what happened to him. I, I don't even know if he's still," Pursing your lips, the word never leaves as you curl your arms toward your stomach.

Looking toward the others, Natasha sighs at their disapproving glares. She knows they mean well, that they are practically family. But you're the only true blood family Natasha has left, and she can't lie to you anymore, not this time.

Standing in Wakanda, Bucky smiled truly for the first time in years. He was no longer plagued by the fear of becoming the Winter Soldier. He was finally free of it all.

But he still had a long way to go, to make amends for those he hurt, and amongst everyone, there was you. His Black Widow, Y/n.

"Hey, Barnes." Natasha stands beside him, looking out at the vast farmland that surrounds them. She can't help but think how much you would love to be somewhere like this, somewhere that is peaceful, tranquil.

"Hello, Natasha." Bucky turns to face the redhead, having not spoken to her since he was under Zemo's control. "I erm, I would like to apologise for everything I did, and for hurting you all those years ago." Bucky explains, and Natasha patiently listens, allowing him to get his full speech out. "And for what they made me do in," Furrowing his brows together, Natasha clears her throat.

"We don't have to talk about that." She tells him as she reaches into her pocket, taking out a folded piece of paper, well worn. "I wanted to ask you something before anyone knows where I am."

"Okay?" Bucky answers uneasily, tugging on the cloth that covers the remainder of his left shoulder.

Unfolding the piece of paper, Bucky can see a glimpse of a black and white photo.

"Here," Natasha holds the photograph out, face down to Bucky who hesitantly accepts. She watches intently as he turns the photograph over and can't help but smile as his breath hitches in his throat.

"Y/n." Bucky looks up to Natasha who simply nods.

"I was wondering if you'd remember her." Natasha crosses her arms over her chest, trying to hide the smirk forming on her face and amusement in her tone.

A playful scoff leaves Bucky's lips. "How could I forget her?" He thinks aloud. "I could never forget the person who helped me escape, who, who," 'Helped me realise I'm still human despite everything I've done.' Bucky thinks to himself, remembering the night before he left you as you lay in his arms whilst he listened to your soft reassurances. "Do you know where she is?" He tries to hide the hope in his voice, but it's useless.

"Yes." Natasha answers. "Y/n Romanoff." She states, and Bucky stares blankly at Natasha for a moment, before a light laugh leaves his lips.

"I shoulda known." He sighs dramatically. "Makes a lot of sense now." Bucky mutters, but Natasha doesn't pry. "Is, is she with you?" He glances past her, toward the jet she came on, but Natasha shakes her head.

"She's safe, in Russia." Natasha explains as she walks alongside Bucky toward the lake. "But she prefers the company of animals over people these days."

"Makes two of us then." Bucky comments. "I, I promised I'd find her." Allowing his mind to drift as the lake ripples, Bucky pictures your sleeping form in his arms minutes before he left you. He whispered you a promise, one he has yet to fulfil.

"Then let me help you keep that promise." Natasha places her hand on his arm gently, and Bucky snaps out from his thoughts. "I know you're still healing, and she is too. But I'll come back, Barnes."

Bucky nods. "Thank you, Natasha."

"James Barnes," Natasha slowly interrupts your prolonged silence. "is still alive, he, he's healing, but he remembers you, Y/n."

You reach out and take Natasha's hand in yours. For a moment, you simply stare, void of emotion before tightening your grip, beginning to crush her fingers whilst Natasha remains stoic.

"Don't lie to me, Nat." You tell her, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

"I'm not lying, Y/n." She responds, ignoring the pain you're inflicting before your grip begins to ease, but she doesn't pull away immediately. "He made you a promise, didn't he?"

"I, I don't know." You admit sadly, looking down at your lap, faintly hearing his voice in the back of your mind fighting through the horrid memories engrained there from the red room.

"He did, Y/n." Natasha asserts herself. "Would you like to see him?"

"I think so." You answer honestly as you uncurl your body and sit upright. "But only once this is over. Once Yeznik is gone. I don't want to be haunted anymore, Nat."

This time, Natasha extends her hand, taking yours in hers delicately.

"Okay, sis." She breathes out, helping you to your feet. "Let's get started."

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[the-last-kenobi]

*kciks down door* ReQuEsTs?!??! uh, 18. “Is it all right if I hug you?” with Obi-wan and character of your choice (please, this boy needs a hug so bad)

Hugs!!!! What an excellent ask.

Took me forever to pick a character though. I came this close to writing multiple hugs throughout the years but it would’ve been very long...

It’s still long. Whoops.

Note: I skipped the actual sentence and instead went for ✨vibes only✨

(From this various prompts list.)

_

Obi-Wan is twenty-three standard years old, very nearly twenty-four.

It is a delightful stage of life. (It’s awful.)

He’s growing in independence, so close to Knighthood he can almost taste it. (Is he? Nobody seems to have a clear opinion.)

He’s receiving more and more solo assignments, and on his missions with Master Jinn, the older Jedi makes an effort to at least await the Padawan’s input before making a decision, sometimes even deferring to Obi-Wan’s word. (Only in public, though, is there a sense of equality. Behind the scenes, Obi-Wan is still very much the learner.)

He longs to be free. (He doesn’t want to be alone.)

The confusing clash of thoughts and emotions is, in and of itself, a creator of more clashing emotions, all resulting in a bundle of self-doubt that crouches near his heart, like a greedy bird, picking away at his strength and certainty when he most needs it.

Doesn’t your doubt show you that you’re truly not ready? the pestering creature asks.

Doesn’t your longing for freedom prove you don’t deserve it? it says, tapping against the veins of ice and fear that lie right against the heat of his heart.

Doesn’t your need to be reassured tell you that you’re too hesitant, too weak to be alone?

His desire to fly is wrong. His desire to be sheltered, even more so.

Both together, coexisting in his heart and mind, could quite possibly mean the one thing he had been dreading for over a decade now, the thing older Jedi, real Jedi, had put into words and addressed to his face when he was only twelve, only eleven, only ten.

You are too emotional, they said.

You are overeager, they said.

You are not destined to be a Jedi, Qui-Gon had told him. I will not train you.

He had, in the end, and Obi-Wan has been wondering in the depths of his heart for all these years of it had not been a dreadful mistake. As much as the Force sings in his ears Jedi, Jedi, Jedi, endure, Jedi, Jedi, it felt like everything he touched, everything tangible, argues back failure, weak, selfish, foolish, unwanted, not fit.

Obi-Wan is twenty-three, almost twenty-four, and he is years into adulthood and light years away from proving that he’s capable of handling it.

When will he be Knighted?

Nobody seems to be expecting it from him.

Do they know, he wonders, have they known since the beginning that I am doomed to fail? Has this all been a gracious attempt, a thank you for my actions on Bandomeer, and they have drawn this out and out and out as long as they can?

How much longer can this go on?

Still, there are moments when he is at peace, when Obi-Wan is sure. When he meditates, when he accomplishes something new, when he walks away from an assignment feeling unashamed when he translates his memories into a tidy mission report.

When he has one of his long talks with Master Yoda, or Master Windu, who despite their revered status have taken to talking to him more like a friend than a child, outside of the Council chambers.

When he remembers the Force whispering inside, Jedi Jedi Jedi Jedi, endure, Jedi...

And then, on one of the missions assigned to both himself and his Master - still the overwhelming majority of his assignments - he and Qui-Gon are separated during a violent uprising.

There are bodies in the streets and buildings are aflame; children weep over the bodies of their parents and parents cradle the bodies of their children and scream as if the sound is their only companion left in the world. The standing government has a point, the rebellion has a point, the civilians caught in the crossfire don’t say which point they agree with because they’re too busy screaming and perishing, and Qui-Gon is simply gone.

Obi-Wan, faced with the threat of further bloodshed right here and right now even as the air is still clogged with ash and flame and as another body topples from a rooftop in front of his feet, raises his hand in surrender and calmly proposes a truce, offering himself as a legal hostage against the government that brought the Jedi here.

Obi-Wan is led away with his hands bound behind his back and his lightsaber taken away, and though his face is calm, the furrow between is brow speaks of his inner turmoil, which sounds like tapping against the cracks in his heart and Qui-Gon, where is Master Qui-Gon, I don’t know what I’m doing, if I fail more people will die, if I fail it will be my fault, is this taking charge or stepping aside, am I a leader or a victim?

He spends not days, not weeks, but three standard months as a hostage. He spends a terrible amount of time sitting in a cell and pondering his uselessness, the gravity of his foolishness, but every time someone opens the door and escorts him out to hold parley with the leaders of the rebellion and the ministry of the planet, he holds his head high, tempers his fear, and speaks to them with all he has.

Which is honesty. Humility.

You don’t know what to do, he says. Neither do I.

We all know we must do something. No matter how much blood you spill and how much earth you scorch you will eventually come back here to this table to have this same discussion until either both of you are broken beyond belief or one of you has been crushed, and half your planet’s voice stolen away. And you will have sacrificed two of the Republic’s Jedi along the way, a black mark against whichever victor is left standing.

Or, he says, we choose to pass over the violence and talk here and now, and choose this again and again and again. You have already had your fighting. Your people are already hoping for negotiation.

Are you here for their sakes or to kill them for show?

He does not use these exact words.

He sews them into his brief speeches, hammers in the point sharply when he must, weaves the common thread over and over again.

He knows they fight while he is locked away.

But he believes, from the growing respect in the eyes of these people who hold him both by his and against his will, that he is making a difference. He must be.

And Obi-Wan is twenty-three, very very nearly twenty-four, when he finally walks free to witness the signing of a treaty like this planet has never had before, to witness the formation of a new government, and he discovers not ashes and mass graves when he sees daylight for the first time in three months — but instead, a city and a planet marred only by scattered battlefields, and marked more clearly by the way its people have fought to keep it clean, to keep it safe.

Children race through the streets, unafraid, because they have had real shelter during the war. It has not entered their homes since that first terrible day.

Neighbors from opposing sides of this fight and friends who staked no claim in this war mingle freely. Their smiles are a little hesitant, but they are there.

The dead are all honored equally.

It is leaps and bounds, it is a civilization that propelled itself through years of struggle in three months, and Obi-Wan is awed by them.

He knows it cannot be this way everywhere.

He knows that there will be wars where no one wants to surrender, or where one side will be so certain of their point of view that they would rather raise hell than cease, and he knows there will be people who resist them.

But today it is real.

Obi-Wan looks at his pale and clammy hands, the marks around his wrists where he was so often bound, and feels the way his limbs shake from months of too little sunlight, not quite enough food, and more than his share of fear and doubt and self-recrimination.

As he smiles for a camera that will record this moment forever, he glimpses Qui-Gon amongst the crowd.

Someone explains to him, when he asks, that his Master had been injured during the uprising and spent the first three weeks of Obi-Wan’s captivity in convalescence. The remaining time, he has spent on the sidelines, forced there by his Padawan’s actions. With Obi-Wan a willing hostage, playing negotiator and leverage both, Qui-Gon had no role except to mingle with the people, offer them comfort and aid.

Something Obi-Wan knows his Master loved, but — he had still stolen his Master’s role.

He had thrown himself into a stupid, foolish situation, and how many times had Qui-Gon teased him about playing damsel in distress? And here he has gone and surrendered of his own accord. What would Qui-Gon have done if Obi-Wan had led them all to ruin?

Obi-Wan slowly loses his confidence, his relief, his silver tongue, as the press and the people recede, and he and his Master walk to a room that has been prepared for both of them, as honored guests by this new government.

Qui-Gon says nothing to him.

They walk in silence for twelve minutes.

And then, as soon as the door has shut behind them, Obi-Wan finds himself pulled into a fierce embrace, one of his Master’s hands buried in his hair, Qui-Gon’s chin resting atop his head.

Obi-Wan hesitates.

Does his Master think him a child?

Perhaps Qui-Gon senses his thoughts, because the man pulls away briefly, still holding his Padawan by the shoulders, as if unwilling to let him go completely, else he vanish like smoke.

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon says, and his voice is loud and strong and brimming with warmth that washes over Obi-Wan like sunlight, like water, like an embrace. “Well done, my Padawan.”

And then he is pulled again into Qui-Gon’s comforting arms, and Obi-Wan breathes in and gives in, folding against his teacher like a child, and if a few tears stain Qui-Gon’s robes or drop into Obi-Wan’s hair, neither of them speaks of it.

Obi-Wan lets his Master hold him, lets go of fear and pride and doubt, and finds that he is safe.

~