#experiencing childlike wonder again i suppose :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aruanimess · 2 months ago

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Mikahisu + lifting the shorter one up so they can be seen in photos

Quiet acts of love prompts

Hello, Al!!! Thanks for the prompt 🥰

~~~

When Mikasa first heard of a carnival being thrown in town, two things came to mind: tacky tents and screaming children.

The others didn't agree with her estimate, though, and lo and behold here she was, a couple days later, surrounded by a rainbow of colors and gaggles upon gaggles of kids. Thankfully, they weren't screaming as much as she'd expected. The decor wasn't as obnoxious either, but had a fetching, old-timey charm that captured the eye. The music helped complete the mood, too.

Armin and Annie had abandoned them the minute they set foot on the grounds. They wanted to visit the Haunted House for some cheap thrills and no one else was inclined to join them. Reiner and Jean were having a shooting contest in one of the stalls, competing over who would win a toy for the other first. While Sasha, Nicolo and Connie never even made it in. They got stuck at the food trucks lining the perimeter.

And then, there was Historia.

In her frilly, floral top and her baby-pink overalls, she blended in among the crowd of festive carnival-goers. She was fleeting from stall to stall, playing each game and trying each ride whose line she deemed short enough. A huge grin was plastered on her face the entire time and childlike wonder was shining in her eyes.

"Carnivals never stopped by where I grew up," she had explained in the beginning.

It made sense. Historia was raised in the countryside, much like Mikasa. Not in a village or a small town, but in a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Again, like Mikasa.

Where their stories differed, however, was that Historia had no close friends in the city to stay over at summertime, and never really got to attend fairs, concerts or theater productions.

She was also homeschooled. So it was really no wonder that her first time experiencing a funfair was during her college years.

Mikasa shuffled awkwardly along wherever Historia dragged her to. Her only contribution to the evening being the two cones of cotton candy she insisted on buying them. And she was right to insist, she thought as she watched Historia picking tufts of spun sugar from the lavender cloud, almost bigger than her head, and placing them delicately on her tongue.

"They asked me to volunteer for this," said Historia as they passed the dunk tank. She gazed at the girl in the already dripping tank top manning the booth. "But I refused."

Mikasa bit off a bundle of floss from her cotton candy and nodded. "Me too."

Historia lowered her eyes, almost in shame. "I feel guilty. It's for a good cause."

The dunk tank profits were supposed to go to a charity. Their uni would manage the earnings. Something about funds for a children's hospital.

"It is," said Mikasa and left it at that. No matter the cause, she wasn't interested in having thousands of people ogling at her tits, and she had no delusions about the purpose of the tank. Unless there was a professor perched up there, waiting to be sunk, there was only one motive: wet, semi-dressed women.

Historia continued without prompting: "I just didn't feel comfortable, sitting there like a prize to mark someone's victory. Not to mention the outfit..." she trailed off, picking at her cotton floss miserably.

Mikasa squeezed her arm. "You shouldn't endure something that distresses you for any reason. No matter how noble."

She smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Mikasa." She glanced at the girl at the tank. Her top was plastered to her torso, revealing a bright red bra underneath, and she was shivering, but the grin on her lips seemed genuine enough. Historia wrinkled her nose. "And it's kinda sexist, isn't it?"

"It is," confirmed Mikasa. "But she doesn't seem to mind."

Historia broke out in a fit of giggles. Then she stopped abruptly as her eyes widened. "I know what we should do!" she said. "We should share a story on Instagram telling people to come over and try their luck. This way we help raise funds without actively participating!"

She looked so excited, how could Mikasa say no?

"Hey, ladies!" called a voice. They turned to see Jean approaching with Reiner in tow. Reiner was holding an obnoxiously large dinosaur plushie.

It was Jean that had spoken. "Guess who won?" He preened.

"Was it Reiner?" Mikasa decided to play along.

Jean gasped in betrayal and Reiner sniggered.

Historia stepped in, bouncing on her feet giddily. "Oh, it doesn't matter! Jean, Reiner, will you make a story with us? We'll encourage people to come try the dunking booth!"

Reiner scratched his stubble. "Sure. It's for the oncology wing in St. Jude's, right?"

"That's right!"

Jean shrugged. "Okay then. If it's for a good cause." He winked at Reiner. "Plus, I'll get to show off my skills as a provider, too."

"I'm not getting caught with this on video," said Reiner, lifting the plushie. Jean pouted.

"Oh, come on, Reiner. It's gonna be cute!" Historia insisted.

Mikasa was only too happy to let this unfold without her input, but Historia wanted the plushie in the story, and what Historia says, goes. She fixed him with a look. "Reiner."

He rolled his eyes in response. "Fine. Whatever. What do we say in this story of yours?"

Jean and Historia lapsed into an animated debate over what their message would be. This time Mikasa stayed in her lane and didn't chip in. Once they figured it out, though, another issue emerged.

When Historia was holding the phone, the frame wasn't wide enough to catch Reiner and Jean's faces. When Jean held the phone instead and angled it way above their heads, Historia looked like a dwarf and Mikasa's cleavage was visible down to her belly-button.

"We want it to attract people, but not like that," remarked Jean, frowning at the screen.

Mikasa couldn't agree more. Then, it hit her.

"Reiner," she said. "Hold Historia's cotton candy."

"Can't Jean do it? I'm already holding the dino."

"Jean will take the picture. You get the candy."

"And what will you hold?"

It was as good an opening as any. Mikasa marched to Historia and squatted in front of her, urging her to climb on her back.

Historia blushed brilliantly. "Um," she bit her lip, "Mikasa... Are you sure?"

Mikasa glanced at her over her shoulder and smiled with an encouraging nod. Historia didn't need another nudge. She scaled up her back and looped her arms around her neck. She let out an adorable squeak when Mikasa hoisted her up in a confident piggy back ride.

Jean angled the phone properly and started recording. They all recited the little zinger Jean and Historia had composed with huge smiles straining their cheeks.

Mikasa paid it no mind, repeating the lines on autopilot. Her eyes were glued to Historia's mirror image on the screen above her own shoulder. Flushed to her neck, eyes shy, her glossy lip caught between her teeth, Historia was gazing at her side profile with a smitten look on her face.

Heat rushed to her own face and her stomach fluttered with unexpressed emotions. Maybe carnivals weren't so bad after all.

#asks #prompt fill #mikahisu #reijean #mikasa ackerman #historia reiss #krista lenz #jean kirstein #reiner braun #my writing #mini fic #long post

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painted-starlight · 2 years ago

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You mentioned before that rapunzel was a walking plot device and I was wondering which scenes were you referring to. I was going to see the movie again to see if it’s as bad as I remembered and I wanted to know which scenes to look out for.

Hi, sorry for the late response, holidays were really busy.

I think when it comes to “Rapunzel is a walking plot device,” I think of it as not always a culmination of scenes, but the story itself and what it chooses to focus on:

Rapunzel’s story is centered around Eugene/Flynn Rider. The main plot kicks off on him stealing her crown, he is the one being chased by guards, he chooses to double cross his teammates, which leads to trouble down the line and his arc of change is the driving force of the plot. It’s what gets it moving. Many of the most important plot scenes have a certain formula.

“Flynn drives the plot, Rapunzel either gets a certain consequence of it, or turns it around by just being likeable”, examples below:

He steals the crown, which leads to Rapunzel finding it. She uses it against him as blackmail, but he figures her out pretty quickly.

He backstabs the Stabbington brothers, which puts Rapunzel in trouble later on.

He takes Rapunzel to the bar to try and talk her out of going to the lights. Rapunzel is the one who made friends with them

Maximus is after Flynn Rider, Rapunzel bargains with him and calms him down

Flynn Rider goes to prison and is sentenced to be executed. He is broken out by people from the bar that he insisted on going to. Rapunzel’s ability to make friends by being childlike and enthusiatic is what creates those bonds.

All of this could’ve worked, as long as Rapunzel also moved the plot forward due to her own actions.

It was her idea to go to see the lanterns, that is good! Mother gothel is a major villain, so the consequences of her defying her are paramount.

She needed Flynn Rider to take her there and to get her out of the tower, even though she probably could’ve memorized where the lanterns came from direction wise. That’s fine, I suppose. Would’ve been better if she left on her own and at least tried to find them herself since she is proven to be smart.

Flynn Rider’s actions drive most of the problems in the plot, he is wanted for stealing the crown, thus having not only the entire Imperial Guards after him but multiple major conflicts come back to him as a result of his action. Not so good. Who’s fairy tale is this again?

But despite blackmailing Flynn Rider, in another point of view it comes off as him being more or less just going along with Rapunzel out of the goodness of his heart. He clearly is the more experienced of the two, and he could’ve figured out the location since she’s just carrying a single bag with her.

The problem with Rapunzel is that she is reactive. Rapunzel is simply reacting instead of acting. She is taken out of heavy action scenes (example, the guards chasing them and the pan fight with Maximus, Rapunzel swings offscreen and watches. She later gets him out of trouble when she’s safely out of danger.) and her inability to fend for herself is often highlighted, mostly due to the conditioning of mother gothel and her own insecurities.

But still, sometimes the movie portrays these sort of insecurities as “cute” or endearing, even though it causes her emotional turmoil. The juxtaposition of her emotional highs and lows when she is finally out of the tower is played for laughs.

Her naivete and “having a dream”, is vague and childlike. Her mannerisms when singing also highlight this.

This is what would be referred to as a positive feminine trait that increases her likability by playing into the idealized stereotypes imposed upon women and girls. Not to say that having such traits makes you bad, but it does seem like she is embodying these traits as a way to convey that they are the feminine ideal.

The movie is very good at making it seem like Rapunzel is assertive because her actions are very energetic visually. She is swinging, jumping around, and carrys a frying pan.

But there is a problem: A lot of the story hinges on her status, and what her hair can do.

Rapunzel is often reduced to what she is. Her status as a princess inherently makes her valuable, her hair is magic and can give healing powers that mother Gothel seeks. And in turn, her very existence is due to the influence of the magic flower that her parents took. All things that were decided before she was born and the ones she does control, she has been conditioned to think she has very little control over.

When she does put her foot down with Mother Gothel, and tries to take back control of her magic hair, she is put in chains.

Here comes the reverse order of “Flynn Rider does something, Rapunzel reacts to it and tries to fix it.” Rapunzel uses her people skills to convince Mother Gothel to let her go temporarily so she can heal Flynn Rider.

Then, he cuts her hair to free her. Without Flynn, she would’ve kept her promise and stayed with Mother Gothel in exchange for healing him. It took Flynn Rider’s actions to free her.

There are people who say that Rapunzel could’ve left the tower on her own, that she wouldn’t have needed Flynn Rider. That she could’ve fought in the action scenes, that she could’ve even cut her own hair and freed herself.

But despite this being her story, she doesn’t. It’s all given to Flynn Rider.

#anti tangled #tangled crit

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toobigteeth · 1 year ago

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(20+ only please, ideally a m/m or nb/m pair) hello y'all, just putting a couple of fandomless/original plots that I've been itching to make something out of in the rp search tags! Warning for potential dark or heavy themes, or at the very least far from fluffy storylines, further details under the cut.

Lovers of anything in the vein of the Chaotic x Tired, Follows their Heart x Uses their Head dynamics are encouraged to continue :]

(my full ad with preferences and writing samples here)

Plot A: SOLE SURVIVOR OF A FAILED REVOLUTION X HEIR TO THE TYRANT THEY TRIED TO OVERTHROW

"I hate you, i will destroy you and you are the only one who will ever get me"

*CW for dubious consent because of the power imbalance, especially if they're privy to each other's exact identities from the beginning; the unhealthy headspaces for each of them; ongoing systemic abuse/oppression and past SA; and large potential for an unhealthy or co-dependent relationship.

Sci-fi, psychological, slow burn, drama

The heir is slightly younger than the survivor -- not a huge age gap, but still a bit significant

ideally looking for something along the lines of an assertive but goofy muse who's also a bit naive as he is capable of casual murder/violence to go against someone who's just plain tired of the world and is reluctantly living on autopilot, resigned to his circumstances, while harboring a lot of rage and wanting the world to burn. in spite of bedroom roles, I'd still like their relationship to be subversive for the most part.

set in dystopian society in a nation suffering from ecological disaster that caused the rest of the population to bear the brunt of it, while the upper class gets to enjoy all the benefits and prioritized access to resources.

the vibesTM: asking about your favorite candy and your relationship with your family over takeout after an unceremonious hookup; a bloody kiss after one protects the other; hysterical, broken laughter right before a breakdown during sex (or anything that's supposed to be an intimate and tender moment); tracing scars in fascination with a sense of pride that you're the first to see them; looking at the lights and motions of a city from above and feeling a sense of longing/alienation; whatever emotions you experienced while watching Netflix's Beef.

B is intrigued by someone as "real" as the survivor—along with looking at them with a hint of romanticization of poverty—while A can't help but find it fascinating that someone essentially above them capable of such destruction manages to have such childlike wonder at life. To some extent, they're both spectators gawking at each other as if the other is some animal in a zoo.

It's the most stimulation either has had in years.

Their attachment to each other has them actually feeling something real. in spite of their ideological differences and how this relationship draws scorn from their respective communities, they're unable to let each other go. For as opposite as they are, they feel some unconventional and fucked form of emotional fulfillment from each other.

perhaps the heir might end up smitten enough to wanna share the benefits of their sphere with the survivor, like making something accessible again to the public...say the skies and fresh produce. they don't give a shit about politics, really, but anything for the one who actually sees them as something close to a regular human.

will the survivor choose their principles and a new brewing revolution over the first person to have shown them some form of mercy/kindness in years? Or will they embrace their growing importance to the heir and utilize that position to make things better despite that choice alienating them from their beloved people/community?

PLOT B: RESIDENT FOOD EMPLOYEE WHO IS READY TO SNAP (A) X ELDRITCH HORROR BEYOND COMPREHENSION WHO HAPPENS TO BE FASCINATED BY HUMAN FOOD (B)

"Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you just want to go apeshit? Lemme have a 10 piece meal, large, with Coke before i change the trajectory of your life btw"

I'd lean toward the role of the worker and would like to write against any type of monstrous, offbeat character. BUT I do have a couple of muses who'd fit the role of B, in case you had a muse you felt strongly about using for A!

Inspired by Hikaru ga Shinda Natsu and this Mandela Catalogue fic 🙈

an (almost) comedic horror slice-of-life situation? cw for potential dubcon in case of B's nature or A not feeling like they can turn B down, or not understanding what they're getting into; A's possible mental state; violence and body horror; and potential corruption arc.

2x2 cast, or at least a primary pairing with a supporting one

Can either go the route of A and B having a relevant existing connection beforehand (say, B bodysnatching someone they knew) or the eldritch character being someone practically new in their life.

e.g. A and B being distant roommates or co-workers that don't have a comfortable or healthy relationship.

Or B being a regular where A worked; they knew each other on a surface level and B was memorable enough to A—for good or bad reasons.

The vibesTM: offering organs as a declaration of affection/friendship, trying to convince yourself that what could only be described as drive-through vore you just witnessed may or may not have happened because you don't get enough sleep, a bloody starbucks venti drink being pushed earnestly into one's hands while theyre wiping away confused tears, pondering your place in the world in the middle of fucking in a parking lot.

#rp partner search #m/m rp #rp plot #mxm rp #oc rp #rp partner wanted #roleplay partner search #roleplay partner ad #dark rp

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girldigital · 2 months ago

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Surprise surprise

Once again, I come here after a failed professional opportunity.

London hates quirky bitches damn!

Somehow though, I feel the most at peace now than I have in a long time. Maybe it's the fact that the process was carried out by someone that seems to genuinely have my best interest at heart.

I can't tell if he was flirting, maybe he was. Maybe I was. I don't know. Sometimes you just click with people better than others and I can tell he definitely was rooting for me. Yet again though, I let my childlike wonder and excitement get the best of me, how dreadful.

It is true that I am a ditzy mess though, so it's not like I can blame these employers. The calibre of work is higher out here and I haven't had a real job in like 5 years so I guess that can show through quite blatantly to the experienced eye...

Anyway, I applied for another Film Archiving job. Were I to be reached out, I'm glad I got a bit of a trial run. Even though I was a mess on the phone call announcing my rejection, I did receive some pretty sound advice and I think that could help me snag my next gig. Especially if this notable company valued my skills and experience enough to see me as a top contender. Maybe this is all playing out the way it was supposed to, you know? Then again, I only applied. So far, no response, so I'm trying not to get too wrapped up once again.

I'm honestly grateful this all went down the way it did. I obviously wish I got the job, but I feel a lot happier now for some reason. I've never been rejected with so much care, and I guess you could say I'm desperate for that above all at the moment...

Anyway, as I was saying. I think I was juggling too much at once and now everything seems to have settled. My anxiety was through the roof and my binge eating followed suit. It felt like I was in Majora's Mask, with everyday getting closer to doomsday. Yet, now that I've embraced that no matter what happens, I'll be okay, I can finally breathe. I'm employed, surrounded by love, and have loads to do and discover still.

When it comes to love, that ball of stress evolved into a ball of warmth, only to get turned to ice once more.

I think Aiden and I knew from the moment we spent that day together that this felt more like friendship than anything else. I was certain of it anyway. Then, I lost track of reality, and I thought maybe seeing him in the flesh would snap me back. Unfortunately, it did, but not the way I had hoped. Of course, it was nice to see him, but I did not leave feeling very good.

For some demonic reason, seeing him again awoke something in me which wasn't there the first time. Someone I was so ready to call a friend, suddenly had me completely smitten - giggling and longing for his touch. I was lingering in the gazes we exchanged, stretching them for as long as I can. Feeling fire every time our flesh touched.

I say I want friendship, but these are not things I should be feeling towards a friend. Of course, we also got the friend side on track - catching up, joking around, enjoying music together. That should be enough for me to maintain this, but I just can't sacrifice how I feel for the sake of a friendship again. I've been there so many times and all I do is hurt myself in the process.

I cried a lot yesterday. I was PMSing yes, but I think for the first time I have the clarity of mind to see things as they are happening.

Here's what I told Mira yesterday, which I hadn't even thought about prior, but made so much sense the moment I externalized it:

"only thing i enjoyed was catching up w him and the few times the music was good but i didnt feel like the vibe was there w friends and i think this might not be good for me in the longrun

its giving me ali flashbacks where its like nice to be friends but deep down ill want something and i just keep riding bc i like the validation and it is a genuine good time bc were so similar but then its like im a friend faller and the closer i get the more attached i get and if its clear this is just to be friendship and i say so ik theres always gna be some hope in there which also stops me from actually giving time and attention to someone who would actually reciprocate it"

I can't believe the sudden moments of clarity I get sometimes lol

I cried monologuing in bed, imagining myself opening up and saying these things to someone I've only met twice... I guess you can call that mental illness!

But it's just a symptom of a greater issue...I am desperate. I do crave love and affection, and unfortunately, I tend to cling on to those who withhold it from me. I don't know if it's because I like the challenge, or if it's because I'm deeply unlucky to fall for those few who don't want me. Perhaps a mix of both (also again mental illness). He said he wanted a femcel well woo boy did he get his hands on one...

I will say it is disheartening to always be denied by those who have seen me at my most truthful. I know I shouldn't be playing an act to be loved, but when I don't they all walk away.

Not sure which way to go anymore.

I'll hang out with him again, probably on Friday and go from there. Deep down though, I know I might need to put that friendship on hold until I am less fragile/invested.

I've already wasted too much time operating on the basis of hoping for more.

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geducation · 2 years ago

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The Corridor of Curiosity

I’ve been interested in developing the idea of a curiosity space ever since coming across the incredible Dr Matthew Mcfall. His brilliant book: ‘The Little Book of Awe and Wonder: A Cabinet of Curiosities’ is packed full of exactly the kind of weird and wonderful stuff that belongs to an age where the answer to not knowing something was to think (and wonder) about it rather than reaching for Google.

If you’ve ever had the opportunity to listen to him speak, his childlike enthusiasm for all things curious belies a monumental amount of knowledge and research into the development of curiosity and its effect on the brain. He’s also got very deep pockets which seem to house no end of unusual and puzzling objects.

Listening to Matthew reminded me that some of the ‘wonders’ he describes used to be a feature of lots of primary schools. When I was at primary school in the 80’s most classrooms had a nature table. Sometimes they were a bit rubbish – a handful of leaves and the odd conker (now banned in some schools). But sometimes they were amazing. I can remember one classroom that had a skull. Nobody really knew what creature the skull was from, and the teacher was deliberately evasive about it when questioned which definitely added to the mystery. I suppose the point was we were taking about it – we had questions - we were curious.

Having taught for twenty-five years, I’ve experienced first-hand the prescriptiveness of the national curriculum. There’s no doubt that as a result of this, the time and space for curiosity and wondering has been squeezed out. If anything, the current version of the National Curriculum has made this worse rather than better. If we’re so intent on delivering whatever it is the children should be taught, then it’s possible we’re ignoring the incredible things that they might learn along the way.

Now, I’m not advocating a return to the so-called ‘good-old-days’ where you could do a two-week topic on squirrels just because you happened to see one on the way to school, but I am interested in redressing the balance. Just because something doesn’t get a mention in a curriculum document, doesn’t mean it’s not of value.

Our first decision around the reintroduction of wonder was to do with practicalities. The first option was to go down the nature table route and introduce a small collection of curiosities in each classroom. The second, was to aim for something bigger - perhaps using a shared space in school. There’s no right or wrong to it, but ultimately, we decided to go for the latter and create a space in school that the children could visit.

We didn’t have any rooms going spare, so the space we finally settled on was a wide corridor in the centre of the school. With the location sorted, this then gave us the opportunity to think carefully about exactly what we wanted it to look like. Taking Matthew’s advice on the importance of a strong aesthetic, we settled on a Victorian study theme with dark wood panelling (wallpaper), some wingback chairs (IKEA), dark wood shelving (IKEA again) and then some careful thought about lighting. The look was completed with a set of cheap velvet curtains at the entrance (ebay) along with what we hoped would be some enticing signage: ‘The Corridor of Curiosities’.

Already, without having anything in it, the corridor was receiving lots of attention. The children got the sense that something exciting was happening – they just didn’t know what.

In terms of filling the corridor with curios, it wasn’t our intention to completely fill it in one go. We wanted enough in there so the children could get to handle stuff without having to do too much waiting for their turn, but with the expectation (or hope) that more and more interesting objects would appear over time as we came across them.

To get started, I had a brilliant morning on eBay. It’s amazing what you can find, and it seems that no matter how bizarre the thing was that I searched for, there was someone out there happy to sell it to me. In next to no time, I had a basket containing (among other things): a ram’s skull, three birds’ nests (abandoned), an ostrich egg, peacock feathers, crystal geodes, pyrite, mahogany fruit, a model of a human heart, a life-size replica of a human skull, a kaleidoscope and some magic fortune telling fish. These classic curios were complemented by some brilliant puzzles and games recommended by Matthew: The Tower of Hanoi, a dovetail puzzle cube, a Soma cube, Pentominoes, a two-piece pyramid puzzle, a Mancala game, trick padlocks and a brilliant little card game called Dobble.

Along with the artefacts listed above, we also ordered some amazing books to sit alongside the curios and puzzles: ‘The Lost Words’ by Robert Macfarlane, ‘Animalium’ by Jenny Broom, ‘Botanicum’ by Kathy Willis, ‘Dragonology: The Complete Book of Dragons’ by Dugald Steer and a 1900’s illustrated copy of Blackie’s standard dictionary.

With the corridor ready for opening (and children who were desperate to explore), we decided that a measured approach would be best rather than risking a stampede. First of all, we spoke to the adults in school and decided upon a couple of simple rules that would help the children to enjoy the experience safely. Rule one was that everything was there to be picked up, touched and held. The corridor is a curated space, but it’s not a museum. We wanted the children to feel how incredibly light the birds’ nests were or to notice how sharp the barb on the horseshoe crab was. Obviously, they’d need to be careful so that they didn’t hurt themselves or damage the things they were looking at, but it had to be hands-on. Rule two was related to the first – leave things looking exactly as you found them. This might sound a bit strict, but we wanted the children to understand that this was a special place – somewhere that deserved particular care and attention.

Beyond that and it was really just organisational stuff. The corridor space itself wasn’t quite big enough for a whole class, but with the use of a small group room just at the side of the corridor we could split the children to make it manageable. Sketching materials were stored in the corridor along with sets of magnifying glasses so that along with attempting the puzzles and handling objects, the children could grab a clipboard, choose some art supplies and do some observational drawing.

Some of the first visitors to the space were our complex needs children. One young man in particular with high level ASD finds accessing the curriculum extremely difficult. His needs are met by working on an individual bespoke curriculum with a highly personalised timetable that includes time spent away from his mainstream class. His reaction to spending time in the corridor has been incredible and has allowed him to follow some very specific individual interests – many of which are represented among the artefacts displayed. This has led to the corridor being built into his provision – along with that of other children with a wide range of differing needs.

Along with individuals, larger groups and whole classes can visit to explore the artefacts that are displayed. Listening to the questions that the children ask and hearing the language they use to talk about what they find is one of the best things about being in the space. We work incredibly hard on developing vocabulary because we have to – the starting point for our children is often incredibly low, and along with everything else that we do, we’ve now got another means of introducing children to words that they are unlikely to have come across anywhere else.

We’re a few years down the line now, and over time, my thinking about how the space is used has changed. To begin with, I was really keen for groups or classes to book slots to use it. Now, I’m much less interested in this and have instead embraced the idea of more unplanned interactions. The corridor continues to be a corridor, and at lunchtime, lots of children have to walk through it to go between two dinner halls. My favourite moments now are when they stop or pause for a moment because something has caught their eye, or maybe an object was just too irresistible not to pick up. Nobody’s with them, no one told them to look, they just did – they were curious.

Primary schools know better than anyone that curriculum is much more than just a set of subjects to be covered. At our school, the Corridor of Curiosity is just one of the ways that we’ve tried to reinforce this idea with our children. In the words of one of our Y5 children, the corridor is ‘like another world’, and for us, this is exactly what curriculum should be about.

If you’d like to visit St Catherine’s to see the Corridor of Curiosity for yourself (along with having the chance to explore school and find out about the other interesting stuff we’re up to), please take a look at our open days on Eventbrite.

To find out more about our approach to curriculum, then look no further than my book ‘The Monkey-Proof Box: Curriculum design for building knowledge, developing creative thinking and promoting independence.’ It’s available from all good retailers and also some less good ones like Amazon.

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llamagoddessofficial · 4 years ago

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what was it like the first time Mc met Skull in the portal Au?

Is it story snippet time? I think it’s story snippet time.

The vent cover was loose.

You’d noticed, as soon as you’d rounded the corner. It didn’t matter that the facility was dark, quiet, deep in one of its night cycles... in the faint illumination of the safety screens and directional arrows left on, you picked up the silhouette of the cover. You were so familiar with the area of the lab around the room you slept in that you probably would’ve seen it anyway... but what immediately made all your attention snap to it was the fact that the glint of sleek metal in the darkness was, in fact, misaligned.

... Sans wanted everything neat. Sans wanted everything right. Red liked it that way, too, but Sans seemed to have the final say. And it showed- the entire facility was neat, angled, symmetrical and impossibly clean. It was so regimented and unnatural that you felt like an outlier yourself; a strange, curved, imperfect biological creature in a space that seemed to bleed robotic perfection from every corner.

... So... something about this one plating... this one vent cover, at a bad angle, tilted just against the grain...

... You were hyperfocused.

You moved over to it, bare feet cat-silent on the warm white floor, crouching down. You weren’t supposed to be out of your room at night, Sans didn’t like you wandering around when he was unaware, powered down for system maintenance and repairs... your fingers sealed around the loosened ends of the vent cover, and with the gentlest of tugs the whole thing came off, leaving a gaping hole in the wall large enough for you to crawl into.

...

It was like you had a fog, separating one half of your mind from the other. Every day in this strange lab was confusing- and when you tried to ask yourself normal questions, like “where am I?” or “how did I get here?” or “why do I have no memories before this place?” your brain supplied you with absolutely nothing. And not only that, it couldn’t even supply you with the concern you knew you should be experiencing... the fear, the panic, it wouldn’t come. It was the most paradoxical and horrible sensation... the feeling of knowing something was wrong, of knowing you should be scared, but something in your head just not letting you access it.

... Maybe that was why the sight of the hole in the wall, the gap in the artificially perfect world around you, made your heart skip in excitement instead of fear. Maybe that was why you normally would have stuck to what was safe and not done stupid shit like going into vents...

... But this time, you got on your hands and knees, and crawled right in.

You weren’t crawling for a very long time; after what couldn’t have even been a minute of moving in a straight line through the smooth metallic system, the dark space opened up above you, more than enough for you to stand up to your full height in. Your eyes were wide, childlike in wonder- unlike the rest of the facility, that at least seemed to try and fake an air of safety, this place behind the walls... every surface around you was dirty, stained and rusty, there were tubes and buttons and tangled wires sticking out of the floor and ceiling, the whole place was lit up with an unnerving orange glow that was leaking through slits in the flooring. The air was filled with a nasty tang, metallic and almost blood-like, heavy and claustrophobic...

... It was like you’d crawled into hell. Like you’d gone from the head of the facility to the entrance of the throat. Another world...

...

As your gaze lowered...

... There was something in the room with you.

The hairs on the back of your neck bristled. Near the other end of the room there was a large, metallic box, most likely containing important wiring of some kind. From where you were standing you could judge that it was about your shoulder height... pretty big.

... But it wasn’t the box that had your attention. It was what it was blocking from your view. A perfectly circular crimson light was peeking out from behind that box... a turret eye, bright and awake and alive, cutting through the murky coloured darkness. And the more you stared, the more you could make out, the more you could see the partially obscured hunched figure attached to the eye that was trained directly on you.

...

“H-hello?” You whispered.

...

“sh-ouldn_t.. be.here.”

... The voice was like nothing you’d ever heard. Deep, deathly deep, you could feel it in your chest like standing next to a speaker- vibrating in your stomach, the palms of your hands, even tingling along your scalp. It sounded... automated, jittering and autotuned and with inflections no human would use, but so clearly with thoughts and feelings behind it, the unmissable edge of somebody who’s cautious, afraid... a downright uncanny mix of machine and man.

“... Should you?” Your voice sounded so... weak. So biological. Your heart was pounding.

... The eye noticeably changed; the dot in the centre became a fraction wider. It took an odd shape, too... from your distance it... looked like a heart...?

A soft, low “... no_.”

“... Then that makes two of us. Right?”

...

The owner of the eye stood up.

He stood slowly, too. And as he did, the box he’d been crouched behind just got smaller, and smaller, and smaller... a beast, made of the facility’s leftovers. Large enough to crush you like a beetle. The dim orange light touched his silhouette to reveal thick tubes, misshapen metal plates, wires hanging off him like cut vines... a gaping cavity in his chest where a half-broken plasma motor was faintly humming and glowing. One of his hands looked vaguely humanoid but the other was just a badly affixed pincer claw... the plate on his face had been haphazardly cut away so his one red eye could see, and a skeletal nose shape had been carved into the centre. Everything about him was asymmetric, uneven, mismatched...

You opened your mouth-

[Bleep!]

...

It floated through the room. A light noise, like a phone notification. You took note of the fact that you couldn’t hear it echoing through the rest of the facility... something that was only heard in the backrooms, perhaps? It was a very gentle little sound, nothing more than a light jingle...

... Except he flinched like a gunshot had gone off, eye blinking out entirely. Immediately, he turned around- you let out a little “H-hey, wait!” and raised your arm but it didn’t stop him. In a few giant steps he’d completely disappeared around a corner, clanging sounds moving so much deeper into the metalworks in such a short amount of time that you found yourself immediately disoriented. How... you were just standing there, how did someone that huge and heavy move so fast?

...

You wanted to pursue. You wanted to chase him deep into the bowels of the lab, down where you weren’t ever supposed to go, where no light would reach... you wanted to so badly you’d already moved a few steps without realising.

... But at the same time, you felt like you’d done enough for one day. Your nose stung from the strange smells in the air, your eyes were straining in the orange darkness... you wanted to go to sleep, back to your relaxation chamber, to rest for now and figure out what the hell you’d just seen.

What the hell you’d just spoken to.

... You turned, and clambered back through the vent. It took no time at all to re-emerge back in the regular facility... back to the whiteness, the cleanliness, the perfect and fake.

...

You had no idea why he’d reacted the way he had to that sound. What did it mean? You trailed your hand along the wall as you walked, making your way through the halls back to your chamber, the floor smooth and faultless under your bare soles. Was it... some kind of warning? An alert system? Was he running toward something, or away fr-

“subject.”

- You almost jumped out of your fucking skin.

You were never sure where Sans’ voice was coming from. It always seemed to just spontaneously exist all around you, disembodied and impossible to describe, surrounding you on all sides as if emanating from the air in the building itself. No matter how hard you searched you could never seem to find any speakers on the cold, unfriendly white walls or floor... just further adding to the confusion and dream-like quality of this whole place. You clutched your chest, taking a little breath, trying to disguise the wild flinch that you’d just experienced.

“Y-yeah?” You said, smooth as always, and totally completely not-startled.

Sans always heard you, no matter how quietly you spoke- and judging by passing comments he’d made he always seemed to be able to see you and your expression. God, you hoped he couldn’t read the panic in your face.

“the facility is in night cycle.” Calm, emotionless, slightly autotuned, as per usual... but a little softer than the norm. “why are you out of your relaxation chamber?”

You glanced up at the nearest camera, a small black orb close to the ceiling with a gently blinking blue light.

...

“I-I can’t sleep.” Was all you could think of.

...

“... perhaps it will be easier to sleep... if you are reclined in a position, in which you can actually sleep. you should return to your chamber.”

“... I’m just walking around.” You kept moving, hoping he wouldn’t think about where you’d come from. “I mean... N-not all of us have a ‘go to sleep instantly’ button. I’m clearing my head. I’m fine, I'm on my way back anyway.”

...

“you’re stammering. your heart rate is elevated.”

Shit. Shit. No, it’s-

“... did you experience a nightmare?”

...

“O-oh. Yeah. Uhm...” You rubbed the back of your neck, eyes drifting down to the floor. “You know about those?”

“i have access to the combined entirety of human knowledge. yes, i am aware of nightmares.”

“W-well... yeah. Yes. I... had one. I’m walking it off.”

... A pause, on his part.

...

“... i can turn the lights back on. if... you’d like to walk around.”

“No thank you. It’ll just make me feel more awake.”

“i see. ... well. i need to complete some more system reboots. i will be partially offline again. if... you need me, just call.”

“Okay. Sure. I will.”

#llama writes #portal au #llama gets carried away: the series #its creepy robot time #its a biggun too! hhehe #feels nice to write again

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culmaer · 2 years ago

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I watched The little prince film once when it came out (7 years ago already !?), and never really thought about it much again. all I can remember is that I found the aviator's accent incredibly distracting.

it's not really relevant here, but this is tangential to why I dislike localisation. like, of course, a good translation will have to make adjustments here and there. a literal, word for word translation is bad I agree. but ultimately the source material is way for the audience to experience a foreign culture/perspective and a translation should reflect that. heavy localisation denies them that experience. (good translation is about finding the sweet spot between the foreign/estrangement and localisation)

more so for someone like me, a non-American English speaker. if the English translation has gone through heavy, specifically US American localisation, I'm basically still experiencing a foreign culture, just not the original one.

but like I said. that is not really relevant to the little prince film. I only bring it up as context for why I found the accent so distracting.

everyone else in the film speaks in a General American accent, the one we're all so used to and don't even notice anymore in media. and so when this one character has a remarkably different accent, it really stands out, and moreover it's probably supposed to mean something.

what I assume the intention was, was for the aviator to be a warm, grandfatherly character. with the salt-of-the-earth, countryside accent of someone who appreciates the simpler things in life (reflecting the text's message)

but to me, again, a non-American, the only time I'd ever heard that accent before was in shows/films making fun of a "silly hillbilly" type character. problematic and elitist as that certainly is, that was the only association I had with that accent at the time. and it's incongruous with the character of the aviator : the urbaine, French pilot who needs to be reminded by the Prince to appreciate the world with a childlike wonder

but anyway. I do love the book and after the other day's discussion, I think I'll give the film another watch now that I'm older. let's see how it goes this time

#le petit prince #the little prince #film #literature

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myonepiece · 4 years ago

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Hey! Can you do a scenario with Kid :3 i dont have any idea so you can do what you want i would love it for sure! Xox

Tank you (✿^‿^)

yes yes yes i have a few kid scenarios in my drafts too so 😌

love story

description: kid and his crush are hanging out in his room and his crush asks if kid has ever been in love

the rain lightly pattered against the windows looking into kid’s workshop, the clouded sky cast a grayish hue into the room. the red head sat at his desk focused on the multiple metallic trinkets he had acquired from the last island. the combined sound of metals clinking and faint rain lulled you into a sense of content and wonder, letting your mind explore in the calm serenity of the room.

a certain thought popped into your head, one that you had surprisingly enough never considered or wondered, because it seemed sadly impossible. yet it still consumed your mind and you found yourself asking kid the questions that had seeped into your head.

“kid? have you ever been in love?”

you heard the metal noises stop momentarily before picking up again following a scoff from the red head.

“’course not, love is stupid and overrated- not to mention fuckin weak.”

you could hear the smirk in his voice and the clinking sound joined by the weather filled the silence again. you pondered his answer- as you greatly disagreed with what he had said- until you found another.

“kid? has someone ever... been in love with you?”

he chuckled and answered “probably, i’m quite a catch. but i already told you love is stupid and useless and i don’t want it”. part of what he said is true, the other part-, “love is stupid and useless”, is very wrong in your opinion. the “probably, i’m quite the catch” part, is definitely true- for you had experienced first hand just how charming the pirate could be when he wasn’t screaming and violently, aggressively tearing villages and people alike apart- and even then there was something endearing about him. you couldn’t deny that you had fallen head over heels for the man.

“but love is amazing- when it’s true.”

kid grunted and snuck an unnoticed glance at you.

“i want it. ‘it was only a sunny smile, and little it cost giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living’.”

kid stopped at looked over at where you lay sprawled across a nest of blankets you had set up- and kid kept set up- in the corner of the workshop. he had a confused, disgusted scowl and you met his eyes with your own, still filled with wonder and possibilities- a look that you almost always wore, a look that kid had grown to love and admire. it’s a funny thing to say, possibly cliche and cheesy, very often kid found himself disgusting for thinking it, but if kid could describe your eyes in a single word, he would say they’re free. he found his own freedom in your eyes, one that satisfied him more than the literal freedom he had sailing the seas, like your eyes were a sea that never ended, never stopped, never ceased, always filled with new discoveries and wonders that he found himself lost in, exploring the tides for hours on end.

“it’s from some book- a love story. i’ll tell you another one, ‘you touch me and suddenly i feel a little less war torn. i’m not sure what peace is supposed to feel like, but i think it may feel a lot like yo-”

kid interrupted you quickly, feeling the slight drop in his stomach and bloom in his heart as he felt the words familiarity. kid only said he’s never been in love because yes he found it stupid and indignant and useless, but also because he had no clue what love felt like. but if the quotes you were saying.. are about love.. and what it’s like to be in love... does that mean eustass is in love? no- certainly not! a pirate captain like eustass “captain” kid isn’t in love, doesn’t need it, doesn’t want it!

“shut up. those are gross. yknow people don’t actually feel shit like that- that’s only in your little cheesy fairytales.”

kid rested his chin on his hand watching like he was just waiting to make fun of what you had to say next- and you had a lot to say about love.

“they aren’t fairytales, kid. they’re books. yeah not everyone, barely anyone, feels things like that, but it would be amazing if you could. i mean could you imagine something like that? ‘come sit with me on the edge of the world where calm meets chaos and we are met by our dreams. lets watch as the madness swirls by our feet and love and scars and all that is beautiful passes by, and then we’ll lean over and catch memories in our butterfly nets.’”

if kid didn’t have a goal before that (excluding pirate king) he did now- and that was to see that very sight with you. kid couldn’t even fight back the smile hearing the childlike wonder and curiosity filling your voice as you talked to him with such passion in your eyes. once again he found himself lost in the moment and your eyes, daydreaming of the very scenario you just described, with you sitting beside him.

“kid- you okay?”

eustass snapped out of his thoughts and grunted, his cheeks reddening and his hands as well as eyes returning to the trinkets on his desk. you spotted the tint on his cheeks and you felt a spike in your heart at the implausible, yet hopeful, thought of the pirate returning your affections.

#one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #one piece kid #eustass kid headcanons #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid imagine

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luminois · 4 years ago

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— 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧;

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐰: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭), 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢).

𝟒𝟓𝟏𝟑 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐩.𝐬.: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ･:*✧ 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

the needle poked the pad of your finger, making you squeak as droplets of blood fell on the scarf you’d been sewing, patching it up out of kindness. the wool was now stained with red.

“shit,” you hissed through gritted teeth, throwing the unfinished piece in the corner of the small room before sucking on the bleeding finger.

the curse had slipped from your lips easily, and you’d done nothing to stop it. you’d discovered it made pain more bearable in a way you couldn’t explain, and your heart didn’t feel heavy because of it. sentences that sounded centuries old resonated in your mind, warning you about your teeth falling off upon speaking such unkind words. you chuckled bitterly, letting your head fall back until it touched the wall. how could you have fallen for such childlike threats? the archangels must have been sure you were nothing but a fool, and at the time they’d been right.

you’d believed their lies, listened to them preaching of saving poor innocent souls from an evil bigger than them, an evil that they couldn’t have understood. but humans knew about sin more than you could have, kept in the dark and fed distorted versions of the truth like you had been.

the truth, the real unadulterated truth, was that the world wasn’t as simple as they wanted you to believe. sometimes war was necessary, it was liberation and revolution, and more often than not peace wasn’t enough. sometimes the only way to do good was to use despicable means, and that was because life isn’t fair. they’d taught you who your enemy was without mentioning the infinite amount of shades of grey existing between the light and the dark, showing you an idealized version of the world. now reality had knocked the air out of your lungs and you were left unarmed, gasping on your own.

in the dark of your room, the metallic taste of blood met your tongue and you were reminded of crimson eyes and searing skin. you smiled at the irony of it all. the only one who had been honest with you, who hadn’t lied to smooth out the edges, who had deemed you strong enough to handle the truth, was your supposed enemy.

in a way, hyunjin had ruined your entire existence. you didn’t have a purpose anymore, you were lost and confused and unable to do your job without thinking of how hypocritical it was, to pretend to know what was best for others without having ever experienced pain yourself. he’d shattered the pink glasses perched on your nose and made you see how diverse the world truly was.

most importantly, hyunjin hadn’t left you alone. you hadn’t ever noticed how fucked up it was that the highest sent their angels all alone to wander through a world they barely knew, without any help or guidance, until hyunjin had refused to leave you by yourself. he had held you and dried your tears, hushed you softly and forced himself to tell you about how sometimes life was also bright and full of wonder. you could tell he’d been struggling to find examples, his handsome face contorted by furrowed eyebrows, but you’d believed him anyways. how could you not?

hyunjin had followed you when you’d wanted to close the bakery and lay down in the shade of your room, only a small window letting the sunshine in. your sheets still held his scent, from the way he’d held you until you’d fallen asleep. you had woken up alone, but wrapped in a sweater too big to be your own.

your eyes traveled to the small desk on the opposite side of the room, where the sweater was placed on a chair. you looked at it for a long second and then got up from your bed, swiftly slipping on your shoes before crossing the space in quick strides. the soft material fell on your smaller figure disgracefully, and you adjusted it until it was hiding the cotton shorts you slept in. you made yourself smaller as you stepped out of the building, wrapping your arms around yourself. earth had become too cold now that you’d gotten used to a demon’s heat.

you wandered through the deserted streets without a destination. some shops had started to open up again, but you’d done nothing more than help clean up the streets, so it wasn’t anything you could be proud of. the town still wasn’t close to being considered a welcoming place but you figured things were just going to work out on their own. your services had never really been needed. you wondered if you’d ever had any other role besides providing temporary relief.

loud noises and shouts had just grasped your attention after turning a corner when a young, disheveled woman ran towards you. you recognized her instantly as the gentle young woman who had helped you revive the unkept communal garden weeks prior. her cheeks were crossed by tears, and the shirt she was wearing had been teared up and was now pathetically hanging off of her figure. she took your hands in a bruising grip, and the panic you saw in her eyes made you tremble.

her voice was broken by sobs and fear, but you managed to make out a sentence between her confused mumbling. “he’s going to kill him, you have to do something!”

“it’s okay, you’re okay,” you said, putting aside your confusion to try and calm the poor woman down. “breathe with me, please.”

she gulped and nodded feverishly, her ragged breaths slowing down as she followed yours, her eyes locked on you as if you were her last lifeline. when she was finally able to talk without difficulty, you asked her to explain what had happened.

“i was walking home, the sun was still out so i thought it was safe, but then a man,” she stammered out, having to take a deep breath before continuing. “he grabbed me and i screamed but he put his hand over my mouth and tried to…”

a sob made her voice break and you hushed her gently, rubbing your hands with hers comfortingly. her next words made goosebumps arise on your skin.

“if it hadn’t been for that boy… oh, i don’t know what could’ve happened.”

“a boy?” you asked.

the woman nodded, her eyes widening with restlessness. “yes! people say they’ve seen you two together, that’s why i came searching for you. he saved me, but now i think he’s going to kill that man, you have to do something!”

she pulled at your hands and repeated her words while you tried to take a decision. could letting that monster die mean that justice would’ve been made? it wasn’t hyunjin’s place to be the judge of his actions, but what if he was none other than the executioner chosen by the highest? your internal conflict was reflected in the furrow of your eyebrows. what was right, and what wasn’t? mere days prior you would’ve answered that question without hesitation, but now things were different. you were different.

at last, you nodded wordlessly and let the woman guide you towards the rowdy noises of the fight. a small crowd had gathered, people shouting and enjoying the display of violence, as if it were a show made purposefully for their entertainment. you had to jostle your way to the front of the circle, elbowing people left and right until you had a clear view.

hyunjin sat on the man’s midriff, keeping him down with his body weight and a hand around his neck. he was holding his throat so tight his knuckles had turned white and the man’s lips were starting to become blue. his other hand was balled in a fist, relentlessly hitting the man’s already destroyed face. his nose was broken and he was bleeding from multiple spots, his blood staining hyunjin’s hands and the concrete below them.

that was hyunjin’s truest form. a demon with his black hair falling over his eyes and sticking to his nape, sweat running down the sides of his face and neck as he bit his lips and breathed hard through his nose from the exertion. his eyes burned with wrath and his inked arms displayed all of his strength. once again, you weren’t scared of him even if you knew you should have been.

he wasn’t taking out the violence nested inside of him on an innocent victim. he was punishing someone that was more monstrous and revolting that hyunjin himself could’ve ever been, and you weren’t sure about wanting to stop him. but a murder wasn’t something you could just walk away from. the people witnessing the scene weren’t going to call the police over an aggression, but if someone died something would have to be done, and you found yourself terrified at the idea of losing hyunjin in such a way. he would have gone back to hell to escape and you weren’t ready to be left alone, without him.

hands tried to hold you back but you pushed them away and stepped inside the circle, calling hyunjin’s name. his fist stopped midair and he turned to look at you, his shoulders raising and dropping as he regained his breath. “angel?”

his eyes followed as you got close to him and grabbed his arm resolutely, making his grip around the man’s throat loosen up. you didn’t seem scared like he thought, but you’d always been full of surprises. he let himself be pulled on his feet, and a smirk curved his lips when you stepped on the unconscious man’s genitals hard enough to make him wail in pain, before leading hyunjin away from the crowd.

——— ･:*✧ ———

hyunjin’s place was anonymous, nothing could suggest that there was someone living in it, except for the bed. you observed the sheets in disarray and then looked up to the headboard. the dark wood was chipped, little pieces of it had come off and the wall behind it was worn out, as if the headboard had hit it repeatedly until the paint had started to break. you looked back at hyunjin as he closed the door behind him and the confused look on your face made him chuckle. he raised his eyebrows and you felt your cheeks starting to burn, so you turned away to not let him see. sex, of course.

“i know you’re blushing, angel, no need to hide,” hyunjin said, walking closer until you felt his breath hit your neck. “you look pretty when you’re shy.”

you sucked in a breath as you felt the ghost of his hands on your hips, before he moved to the side and went to sit on his bed. he groaned as he did so and you remembered the task at hand.

“i need towels, and painkillers.”

“there’s towels in the bathroom and i don’t fucking need painkillers, i’m a demon.”

“you’re human right now,” you reminded him as you opened the door to the small bathroom.

“humans are stupid and weak, their bodies are useless,” you heard him say as you ran a couple towels under the sink. “well, except for one thing.”

you turned the water off and walked back to him, gasping as hyunjin took off his shirt. the dark material had hid it well, but now you could clearly see the blood spilling from his ribs.

“is that a fucking stab wound?!” you shouted as you dropped the towels on the bed and kneeled in front of him to look at the injury.

“he barely scratched me, that’s just- wait,” he said, his smile getting bigger as he realized what you’d said. “did you just say fucking?”

you ignored hyunjin’s words and pressed a towel over the injury to stop the bleeding, until he grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

“it’s just a cut, angel, i moved away before he could seriously hurt me or that woman,” he reassured you, stroking your cheek with his thumb. you sighed in relief and leaned into his touch, your skin getting stained by the blood on his hands, unaware of the turmoil building in hyunjin’s chest.

you, his pretty angel kneeling between his legs, caring for his injuries and saying the bad words you’d picked up from him after kicking a man in the balls. forgotten feelings were filling his stomach and making his cold heart beat faster than anything else could, faster than any random fuck or any fist fight. hyunjin had always known you were different, the weirdest angel he’d ever met, and it made you unbelievably beautiful in his eyes. you made him want to be gentle, to make you happy, and it made him want to ruin what was left of your angelic innocence, too. but he could never hurt you, so, for the first time in his centenarian existence, he was going to be soft, just for you.

“is this my sweater?” he asked, running his finger along its neckline.

you nodded, picking up a towel to clean your bloodstained cheek before doing the same with his hands. “you left it at my place.”

“it looks better on you,” hyunjin said, smiling as he saw you bite back a smile of your own.

once his hands were as clean as you could manage and the cut on his ribs had stopped bleeding, you searched for other wounds. the only one you could see was the little cut on his nose bridge, and you figured the man had gotten in a punch before getting his face destroyed. you reached up to clean it but hyunjin’s hands were on your waist before you could do anything.

“get up from the floor, angel,” he said. his voice was almost a whisper as he lifted you up without needing your help.

you sat on his lap with your legs on either side of him, the closeness making your head spin. you watched your hand tremble as you moved his hair away from his face, hyunjin’s hands caressing your back. he now had to look up at you and he felt all of his smugness wash away, his lips parted as he took in every small detail. perfect, from the last hair on your precious head to the tips of your toes. how could you be so perfect for him?

you felt shy under his gaze, the softness in his eyes unknown to you both. “hyunjin?”

“i want to kiss you so bad,” he said. his voice was low and you shivered, your hands tightening where they were placed on his shoulders while his traveled up your back until he was holding the back of your head, fingers carded through your hair. “do you want me to, angel?”

you did, and you didn’t need to think about it. this wasn’t a demon trying to corrupt an angel. it was you and hyunjin, uncaring of the laws of the universe saying you should hate each other, in love. because you could feel it, the earth-shattering love growing between you, could’ve even touched it had you been in your angelic form. the only physical manifestation of it you had right there was your gasping heart and the emotion in hyunjin’s eyes, and it was enough.

hyunjin’s lips swallowed your inexperienced ones, pulling whimpers from you as he bit and licked and overwhelmed you with new sensations. his hands roamed down your body and pulled you impossibly closer. he sucked harshly on your bottom lip and then left a trail of wet kissed down your neck as you gasped for hair, hugging his neck tightly. he bit and sucked on the sensitive skin, and you felt his smirk when he found a spot that made you yelp. angry red now adorned your throat, and the demon looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction before kissing you again.

his hands disappeared under your sweater and hyunjin leaned back to look at you with a glint in his red irises. “what were you thinking when you left your house like this, angel?”

your cheeks burned red as you remembered the cotton shorts you’d been wearing the entire time. they were a flimsy, baby blue material, barely covering your bum while you slept, and the same went for the matching top you were sporting as well. one of your hands flew to cover your mouth as hyunjin’s slender fingers reached your left nipple, toying with the hardened bud while his eyes never left your face. he grabbed your wrist and uncovered your mouth, drinking in your flustered expression. under you, the tent in his pants was now poking your thigh unashamedly.

“were you thinking of me, mmh? going out half naked and covering up with my sweater, such a bad girl.”

hyunjin grabbed the hem of the sweater to pull it off and you swiftly raised your arms to help him, impatient to have his lips back on yours. addictive was one word to describe the way he kissed you, and suddenly you wanted to find out what else he could do to make you feel this way. the fastest way to do so was pushing his buttons, and you’d spent enough time around him to know just what to say.

the sweater hit the floor and you cupped hyunjin’s face. “i’m not a bad girl, i’m your little angel.”

his hands on your thighs slipped under your shorts to grab your butt cheeks, hard. “you are?”

he raised a challenging eyebrow at you before leaning in and mouthing at your covered breasts. you moaned as he sucked on it and then moved up, kissing your collarbones while moving your top’s strap down your shoulder.

“i am,” you stuttered out, “i thought of you so much these days, i even t-touched myself while thinking about you, hyunnie.”

you felt him smile against your skin and come up to kiss you properly, now hugging your waist. you melted at the way his tongue danced with yours, a weight lifted from your shoulders. you’d sinned because of him and you didn’t regret it, knowing he liked it made you feel proud.

“did you like it, angel? did it make you feel good?”

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “it felt a little good but… weird? i don’t think i did it properly.”

hyunjin laughed, and the burning feeling he was laughing at you had your cheeks going red in embarrassment. “my pretty girl can’t even touch herself properly, mmh? that’s alright, i’m gonna teach you how to do it.”

you squealed as he picked you up and let you fall on the soft mattress, your hair spread around you like a halo. his shirtless form hovered over you like a vision as he took off your shorts and pried your shaking legs open. he smirked at the wet patch on your panties before subtly dragging his knuckles over it, making you gasp and tremble.

“look at you, so wet and sensitive for me already.”

hyunjin laid next to you on his side, propped up on his elbow so he could see all of you. you looked up at him with wide eyes and his smile turned soft. “give me your hand, angel.”

he took your right hand in his and led it down your body, from your useless top to your bare stomach to where you needed it the most. you came in contact with the damp spot on your panties and pouted at the uncomfortable feeling, raising your hips to kick them off and they joined the little pile of clothes gathered on the floor.

“close your eyes,” hyunjin said, guiding your hand between your legs, “and think about me.”

you complied, and the first touch made you gasp. your free hand flied to grasp any part of hyunjin you could reach, ending up scratching at his chest as images of him flooded your mind. he whispered instructions in your ear, and a new wave of arousal gushed out of you as he pressed your middle finger on a hard nub. you screamed, your toes curling up at the pleasure.

“feels good, mmh?” he said, making you draw circles around that heavenly spot. you nodded, unable to think straight, but it wasn’t enough. “words, baby.”

“it f-feels good.”

“that’s where you wanna touch when you’re by yourself, but you’re with me right now.”

you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confused by his words. hyunjin chuckled and kissed your temple, endeared, and brought your hand lower. the burning sting of both yours and hyunjin’s fingers pushing into you made you cry out and hide your face in his neck. he hushed you softly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and leaving pecks on your clammy forehead, letting you get used to the stretch.

“it hurts,” you whined, tears threatening to slide down your cherub cheeks.

“i know, angel, but it’s going to hurt even more later if we don’t do this now,” he reassured you. “be my good girl and tell me when it gets better.”

a minute passed until you finally started to relax, and from then on it felt incredible. countless of your moans and whines, muffled against hyunjin’s skin, filled the room as he added a finger and then another one. your tears started to fall when you found that first spot again, pressing against it while hyunjin stretched you open. it felt like your pleasure was building up, your sounds progressively getting louder as you trashed around on the mattress, and then it was over.

hyunjin’s long fingers slipped out and he grabbed your wrist to keep your hand away. his lips drowned your complaints as he hugged you close, your bodies sweaty and burning up against each other.

“why?” you whined, letting your damp cheek rest against this chest. hyunjin’s heart was beating fast and strong, his big hands stroking your back reassuringly.

“i can give you something better, angel,” he said, sitting up before helping you out of your top.

“better than that?” you asked in disbelief, now laying completely naked in the middle of the bed under hyunjin’s hungry gaze. he laughed at you again and your thighs rubbed against each other, instinctively trying to create some friction.

“you have no idea how good i can make you feel, that’s not even half of it, baby.”

you watched mesmerized as hyunjin took off his pants, the clinking of his belt as it fell on the floor making you shudder. every time you saw him you thought he couldn’t get more gorgeous, and he proved you wrong every time. your half-lidded eyes got drunk off how perfect the demon looked standing there, arrogant in the way he touched himself, a moving work of art. his gaze licked down your own body as if it were an actual touch, and you smiled at how beautiful it made you feel.

your legs went willingly when hyunjin’s hands grabbed your thighs gently and made a space for himself between them, but they started to shake when you felt him prod at your core. his fingers had hurt before, you were afraid of the pain you were about to experience.

“angel, look at me,” hyunjin said, smiling softly at the way you were holding your hands close to you in an attempt to reassure yourself. he leaned down to kiss your lips, your noses bumping together and making you giggle. “don’t be scared, it passes quickly and then it feels good.”

“really?”

“you know i don’t lie to you.”

you felt the pain as he was kissing you again, swallowing your cries and pecking away your tears. hyunjin waited for you to relax under him, something he’d never done for anybody else, and held you close as you left marks on his back.

“breathe, baby,” he said, caressing down your sides. “tell me when you’re ready.”

true to hyunjin’s words, it didn’t take long for the tension and hurt to melt away, your flesh going lax as you sighed in relief. he settled deeply inside of you, the sting from the stretch still present but you found it strangely pleasurable, and you hugged his neck before whispering. “you can move.”

“that’s my good girl.”

the demon’s eyes sparkled red and then he set a pace that was brutal, eliciting screams and noises you’d never heard yourself make before, hyunjin’s own moans quickly joining yours. your fingers got tangled in his hair, now wet with the same sweat that was falling on your skin in droplets, his skin absolutely searing.

you wrapped your legs around his waist and your eyes rolled in the back of your head when he changed the angle, finding just the right spot. a string of words barely resembling hyunjin’s name left your throat as he wrapped an hand around it, pressing just enough to make you lightheaded.

“you’re perfect, angel,” he said, his voice low and breathy as he panted. he took your hand in his and brought it to your stomach. “you’re doing so well, you did this, my good girl. right here, feel how well you’re taking me.”

you looked down between the two of you, still gasping for air when you felt it, him moving under your skin, and something loosened. a shudder washed over you and your hands tightened around hyunjin’s neck, both keeping him close and pushing him away as you screamed.

hyunjin only slowed down for a minute, barely letting you catch your breath before picking up the pace again. you whined as the feeling got so intense it started to hurt but he only hushed you down, singing your praises and sweetly torturing you at the same time. you had to endure the same high times and times again before hyunjin started to lose his rhythm, and then you felt warmth flooding you and his body fell on you, covering you completely as his muscles trembled violently.

kisses smothered your wet cheeks, when did you start to cry again? your mind was hazy with exhaustion and still high on the most intense and sublime sensations you’d ever experienced. you noticed how dark the room had gotten and wondered just how much time had passed, but you didn’t really care. every bone in your body ached and hyunjin was still inside of you, contributing to the uncomfortable feeling of laying on a bed dirty with your own blood and sweat. but that was the best place on earth, where the heavy smell of sex met the heavenly scent of your lover.

you stroked hyunjin’s dark hair and he turned to look at you, eyes full of wonder. “how were you the best?”

“the best?” you repeated dumbfounded, your voice scratchy from all the screaming. “you’ve been with people far more used to it than me, i’m sure of it, hyunnie. it’s impossible i did better than them.”

“none of them lives up to you, i’m ruined for everyone else now.”

“you’re ruined?” you said, “what am i, then?”

hyunjin smiled. “you’re my little angel.”

do you want to read more?

banner by @blueprint-han

taglist: @sleepylixie @bobateastay @orphic-chan @aliceu @softieyn @riel-precious @witchylixie @tulipsandfire @anskiie @tpwkjerii @blackkacchan @fournia @parachuuuus @inlovewithasa @skzshortcake @lmxral @peachy-maia @iwanttobangchan @virgothicc @joy-salem @chans-baby-girl

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interstellarre · 4 years ago

Text

Delve In The Depths. Chapter II.

Word Count. 1.5k

a/n. Just a quick btw, Meno gave Xiao the nickname "Emerald duck" because emerald ducks have greenish teal stripes on their heads and Xiao has teal undertones in his hair.

Trigger Warnings. Mentions of death and violence

Series Masterlist

Chapter II.

Again and again these waves crash over Xiao's subconscious. Riptides of lost human dreams, the tsunamis of guilt, and the eons of pain build each other up, growing larger as they drown him in endless suffering. Waves of black vapor cloud his person. He clutches his mask

He can hear their screams now as he writhes on the top floor of Wangshu Inn in agony, barely supporting the weight of his body with his arms leaning on the balcony rails.

"Xiao, Xiao!" he turns his head to see Verr Goldet franticly searching for him.

"There's someone downstairs, the-they, Verr Goldet stutters on her words, waving her arms around unlike her usual composed self.

Xiao doesn't wait for to finish, he grabs his pole arm by reflex prepared to strike the threat down.

Instead he's met with a person grappling with pain on the floor.

"Why slime condensate exactly?"

"Hm?" Xiangling gives you a genuinely confused look despite it not exactly being the social norm to add slime liquids to a meal. She was climbing up a sandbearer tree. The striped squirrels on the ground scatter upon her arrival.

"What gave you the idea to add slime into your dishes?" you clarify, trying not to come off as rude. Tossing the wicker basket between your hands as a form of entertainment while your culinary friend ducked her head underneath a branch.

The trees ruffle and flocks of crimson flinches and golden flinches fly off to the sky as Xiangling forages around in the tree branches for bird eggs.

"What gave you the idea that not everything is edible?" she playfully teases, now placing bird eggs by sets of two in the basket she previously gave you in Wanmin Restaurant.

You giggle, covering your hands with your mouth. She motions for you to put the basket down and come over while she grabs you by the shoulders ("Don't you dare-") and hops down. Unfortunately, you aren't heavy enough to support her body weight when she jumps down with her full force.

"Ugh!" you groan as you both tumble down to the floor. You raise a hand to your head and cover your forehead. "Was that really necessary?" you sigh, already far too used to her antics. She snickers.

As you regain your footing, you ask, "How far along are we exactly? My mother will have an aneurysm if we step foot in Moon City.*" Xiangling had already run off, and with the basket no doubt.

You look to your right and find her by the lake counting hydro slimes behind a crack between a few slabs of stone. You crouch down besides her. Her charcoal hair brushes against your mulberry silk skirt.

"1,2,3,4." Yes! this is definitely enough for my new dish!" she pumps her fist in the air.

You don't remember there being a lake to the far right in the places your mother told you to stick to.

"Let me guess," you strike a thinking pose, you want me to set up a new shop here for your new culinary competition?" you sarcastically muse.

She rolls her eyes. "No, silly I-," she stops at your amused expression. "Ah- well go on than."

You reach your arm to summon your now unsheathed dagger attached to the leather belt on your waist, ignoring the long bow and arrows attached on your back and rather choosing a melee weapon,

Standing up from your hiding spot, the group hydro slime flock, well bounce towards you.

The air turns frosty and Xiangling's teeth chatter while she rubs her arms in hopes of warming up. "Don't turn me into a chef popsicle before I get the slime condensate [Name]!"

As you kneel down to slam the stiletto dagger into sand, sharp edged flower patterns appear on the ground. The slimes teeter back at the sound chill between their mass before large icicles spring up, piercing their bodies and turning them into goo.

"Woo!" Xiangling jumps above the rock pile and excitedly cheers. Pumping her arms up. "That's my girl!"

"It was nothing really. What was it you needed next again? Of course after you've collected the slime condensate of course." you stop talking as Xiangling sweeps the slightly frozen slime fluids off the crystals you've created into a glass bottle.

"Well talking about other ingredients, I actually wanted to try something." she mentions with a certain twinkle in her eyes.

"You have my attention." You wave your hand at her to go on.

"You know that cooking competition? The one I had in the Mondstadt with the chef named Brooke?"

"I don't recall you telling me that, can you specify?" racking your brain for memories of Xiangling's rantings about food. You suddenly feel drops of sweat on your back despite not being lukewarm at the very best. It must just be from the excitement from fighting the slimes, you think pushing away your other thoughts on the matter.

"Well anyways, we found this extinct species of boar with the help of the traveler, I believe they're called the honorary knight now?" she taps her chin. "That's besides the point but, anyways, it made me think of the different varieties of possible meat options I could use with different monsters. Can you go with me north of Jueyun Karst with me to find a Stonehide Lawachurl?" She claps her hands together into a begging motion. "Please, Please?"

"Mhm, I'm not sure how fast we can make it there? You didn't hear my question before when I was asking where we were before. I'm planning on packing my bags early when I go home overmorrow." you say counting the possible time it would take you to pack all your belongings. Black spots appear in your vision. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

"Hmm, I'd say if we're lucky, a few hours? It's lucky that it's still the early morning huh?" Xiangling turned her attention to you from the mushrooms she was picking underneath the trees.

"[Name]?"

She looks over to see you on your knees, black substance withering out of your body. Sweat drips down your forehead.

She frantically shakes you, but your vision has gone black.

"[Name]!"

The blood on Bosacius' arm dripped to the ground creating a thin string trailing only to be diluted by the pouring rain water behind Bosacius and a certain teal haired adeptus. Bosacius gripped his injured arm with his other.

"You need to treat that wound," Xiao said, glaring at his fellow adeptus' wound. He could see the majority of Bosacius bone creeping out of his flesh. A familiar sight.

"Rest assured, I've been in worse state. I just never expect it to hurt as much as it always does," grimaced Bosacius through his smiling expression. The water soaked through his garments and drenched his hair.

"You sound like one of those mortals, trying to fight through their deathly injuries only not to see the next day," replied Xiao looking forward to their destination of Jueyun Karst. He could see the towering peaks getting larger and larger as they move on despite the misty atmosphere.

"We're all too mortal for our liking these days." said Bosacius, his expression unreadable.

The sound of steps softly crushing the blades of grass underneath them and thunder rumbling filled the air while their owners remained silent.

"Have you told Rex Lapis about the constant pain you've been experiencing?" said Xiao, breaking the silence.

Bosacius bit his bottom lip while his working hands, well, what was left of them tensed up. "No, I didn't see the need to bother him. I'm sure he has other pressing matters to attend to now, especially with the incline in aggression from monsters around Liyue Harbor recently. It's strange," The older man looked up to the sky, while Xiao had a distracted look on his face from thinking about the increased monster attacks. "I have yet to figure out the cause behind it."

"I believe Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper are free this evening, I'll ask them for their input on the situation later."

They had arrived at Jueyun Karst, the floating island in the middle of the adepti abode was lit up, symbolizing the availability of Cloud Retainer.

"I'd imagine we don't have the need to place an offering in the middle of the lake huh?" Bosacius winks at Xiao. Xiao looks down at the lake, full of ripple currently from the cloudburst. The empty bowl in the middle overflowed with liquid.

Bosacius gave a forced smile at his correct prediction of their fellow adepti's availability. "Well, I suppose it's best for me to head off and find Indarias to heal my wounds."

"That would be for the best." confirmed Xiao

"Thank you for accompanying me for this trip."

Xiao turned his back and Bosacius was gone

"Hey! Emerald duck!"

Xiao swore he heard the inter layers of hell again as he pinched the bridge of his nose

"Oh archons," he cursed under his breath. Menogias tumbled towards him, no grace or posture in her current childlike state.

*Moon City refers to Mondstadt as Mondstadt translates to Moon City in German.

a/n. Incase anyone was wondering the reader's constellation is "The Maiden" or "Virgo". I'm planning on making a character sheet for the reader soon, so watch out for that!

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin xiao #genshin Zhongli #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #la signora #delve into the depths

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jawritter · 4 years ago

Text

30 Minutes In Heaven

Summary: Your life, like many hunters before you, was cut short. You had no idea at the time the Fates that were at play in the universe were really those of dick angles and egotistical assholes with massive god complexes. And you also had no idea that they were really the reason you lost your life, and you had no idea why… Until around 30 minutes after you made it to Heaven.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader (Y/N), Jack Kline

Warnings: SPN SERIES FINALE SPOILERS!!!! IF YOU LIVE UNDER A ROCK AND HAVE NOT SEEN IT YET DO NOT READ THIS FIC!!! Brief use of Christian biblical text at the beginning as a reference. Language I’m sure, because hello, it’s me. Slight angst, mentions of character death all over the place, past, present, and upcoming. Some fluff. I don’t want to give too much away.

Word Count: 2722

A Huge fucking thank you to @miss-nerd95 for Betaing this fic!! You’re a lifesaver!!

A/N: Okay, this was a fic I started before the Series ending, then when it ended I dropped it like a hot object because I just couldn’t finish it, and struggled with the fact that I could easily tie in the canon Dean Winchester ending. Then one of my Patreons requested an ending that placed the reader, Dean’s soul mate, given to him once he made it to Heaven to give Dean the happy ending he deserved, well that’s when I decided to go back and finish it, give Dean and the reader a reunion over there. I was originally going to just post this to Patreon, but I feel like we ALL needed this, so I’m going to be posting it to tumblr and wattpad as well! I hope you all enjoy this one, as it was a bitch to write I’m not gonna lie.

**MASTERLIST** **BECOME A PATREON**

2 Peter 3:8 Says But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.

You had never known the gravity of that one verse of scripture from your time on earth. It was the only thing that resounded to be true in all that you had experienced once you had made it to Heaven. There was no way of truly knowing exactly how long in earth time you had been here, but something deep down in your heart knew that it had been a very, very long time. You would venture to say it had been close to ten years, but again you couldn’t be sure.

For you, it had only felt like 30 minutes.

In that 30 minutes a whole lot of things had taken place. You hadn’t even gotten settled into your little cubicle here before the place began to shake. Then talks of falling angels and power flickering were happening. There were whispers of new gods and old gods, there were whispers of the devil and his death. There were whispers of all manner of things as you stood with your head to the wall of your childhood bedroom.

One name you kept hearing was Dean.

Dean Winchester.

You had been a hunter in your former life, and you had heard of the Winchesters before. Part of you wanted desperately to know what was happening on earth, what could Dean Winchester have done to literally cause Heaven to quake?

You had tried to find a means of escape, but you seemed trapped in this room, no matter how much you tried to find a way out.

Then before you even had time to panic, another rumble shook Heaven, and people were saying something about a 'darkness' that had befallen of old. A darkness that had overtaken Dean. That were the longest five minutes of your life. The angels talked of the righteous man that had once shed blood in hell now bathed in it on earth to save the world.

Over and over again you would catch snippets of stories, passing and confusing glimpses, while you remained trapped behind the all too familiar walls of your prison cell.

You screamed and pounded, but it all went ignored until a sudden bright light consumed you, almost blinding you completely.

The next thing you knew, you were standing in a little cabin type of house. One you had always dreamed of having-one you had always hoped for but were never foolish enough to believe you could have due to your lifestyle, right down to the stone fireplace in the corner of the little living room that oozed warmth, and the bookshelf that lined around that, upon closer inspection, had many of your favorite books.

There were birds chirping outside the windows, and the sun was shining. There were beautiful mountains off in the distance, and for the first time a profound calmness fell on you. You didn’t have time to ponder your sudden release from your prison before a voice behind you made you turn on the spot, old hunter instincts kicking in like they had never left.

“Hello,” it said, and you turned to find a young boy in a white jacket standing with his hand raised in an almost alien-like greeting and a warm smile on his face.

“Um-hi,” you responded, slowly taking a step back, more than weary of everything, for it could be an angel or even a demon in this place.

“Oh, don’t be afraid of me. I’m Jack, Jack Kline,” he said, settling himself against the arm of the old leather couch in the living area of the cabin.

You had heard whispers of his name before too, but knew very little of him aside from the fact that he seemed to be in the same circles with the Winchesters. His name had been whispered a lot amongst the angels passing down what you could only assume was a hallway by the small room you were trapped in.

“What do you want?” you questioned him defensively, looking around for anything you could use in case you had to defend yourself against, uh-whatever he was.

Jack nonchalantly clasped his hands together in front of his lap. Looking around the little cabin fondly, almost like a proud decorator would look at his finished product before his eyes traveled back to your own.

“This place is cozy, it’s perfect, it’s everything you and he deserves,” he said, grinning at you in an almost childlike manner. It was confusing, and you wanted to run, but for some reason you held your ground.

“I asked what do you want?” you asked again, and this time Jack nodded before meeting your gaze knowingly.

“You have no idea who you are, do you?” he asked, the same kind smile on his face.

You said nothing, just waited there ,watching him for any sudden movements. Jack stood and made his way around the cabin, and looked outside the window next to you, admiring the scenery around with innocent wonder you had forgotten could even exist.

“You were cheated out of life, Y/N Y/L/N. You were cheated out of a lot of good things you were meant for. You were killed before your time because my grandfather was angry with Dean and couldn’t control him, so he took you away from him before he could ever even have you. In doing so, he took away Dean’s only chance to have any happiness or peace while on Earth.”

Jack turned to face you while you froze up, him seemingly unfazed while you tried to make sense of this riddle he was giving you. Sensing your confusion, Jack gave you a moment before finally speaking again.

“Do you remember how you died, Y/N?” he asked, and you tried to. It was all really hard to remember. You knew you had been on a hunt that was supposed to be a simple Salt and Burn, but since the Winchesters had opened up the gates of hell a few years back, it wasn’t always what it appeared, just like it wasn’t that time. It was a trap set up by demons, and while you couldn’t remember the pain you went through, or the details of your death, you know that they had been your end game.

“Chuck sent those Demons to kill you so that Dean would never meet you in this life, and he intended to keep you locked away here forever so you two couldn't get together even in heaven. You were Dean’s soulmate, see. A rare and beautiful thing in the cruel world my grandfather built. You would have grounded Dean, given him a family of his own, a reason to fight against the darkness that he never should have been forced to take on in the first place. If you would have been his, the way you were intended to be, then Dean would never have become a Demon, he would have never had to let go of Lisa or even go to her in the first place, and he wouldn’t be on his way into a warehouse right now to die alone with his brother as witness on a crude piece of rebar.”

Your eyes widened as you struggled to keep up with what this teenager was telling you. You were Dean Winchester’s soulmate, and this Chuck had you killed so that you would never meet him. There was supposed to be no tears in Heaven, or at least that’s what you were always told, but you could feel them slipping down your cheeks as images of what could have been flashed before your mind, no doubt controlled by whatever power Jack had.

Images of a little boy in Dean’s arms, images of sensual touches, passionate filled moments, images of yourself and Dean old and sitting on a porch in a rocking chair with your grandchildren played in the yard with a dog that Dean called Miracle. It was all stolen from you. It would never be yours, you were robbed of this man and the life you could have shared together, it was earth shattering.

“What happened to his Chuck?” you asked, sudden fear gripping you that he would find you free of your prison, and destroy you utterly.

“Dean defeated him, he’s cursed to live life alone and die as a lowly human. I promise you, it’s more than what he deserves.”

Jack made his way to the front door of the cabin, opening it and stepping out on the porch, leading you to sit down on one of the old wooden rocking chairs, as he took a seat next to you. “He should be here any moment now,” Jack said, smiling at you before looking down the long dirt road almost longingly.

“What happens when he gets here?” you asked him, following his line of sight, your heart already longing for a man you never knew you missed.

“He gets to have the heaven he deserves, with you.”

The ground underneath you seemed to rumble lowly, and Jack’s smile widened as he stood from his perch in the chair next to you before looking at you excitedly.

“He’s here, Dean’s home,” he said, giving you a smile before stepping out into the open driveway, looking back over his shoulder before yelling at you, “Wait here!” and disappearing on the spot. Leaving you alone with birds singing happily, and your heart pounding in your chest. Images of what should have been still fresh in your mind, and for some reason no doubt at all that he’d be happy to see you here, a reassurance residing in your soul you never understood until now, but knew it was meant to be there all the same.

“Come home to me, Dean,” you whispered to the passing wind, settling down to wait on the man that had saved the world, and now was finally ready to lay down his weary, war beaten heart in the hands of the one person he always longed for, but was forced to do without, you.

Dean’s POV:

“Right here!” Sam said from the passenger seat of the Impala as Dean turned the wheel into a driveway of what looked like the perfect little farmhouse in the middle of a beautiful clearing not far from where his parents little place was nestled.

As soon as Dean put Baby in park Sam threw the passenger door open, the front door of the house opening to reveal Jess in a long white dress. Dean had a hard time suppressing the smile as he watched his little brother run into the arms of the woman he had always loved. He was finally home. Sammy was finally happy, and that made him more happy and at peace than he ever thought would be possible. Dean waived to his little brother before he and Jess disappeared inside his new home, leaving Dean alone yet again in the Impala.

This place, it was almost perfect, but even still Dean felt like a vagabond. Putting Baby in drive he made his way down the road a little ways back to where he’d started, Bobby no longer sitting on the porch, but he was sure he could hear him and Ellen laughing just off in the distance as he killed the engine.

Everyone had their place, but Dean. Dean didn’t have a home or a long lost love waiting for him, and he felt something he thought he wasn’t supposed to ever feel again in Heaven. He felt lonely.

“Hey Dean,” Jack’s voice cut into the fog of his self pity, and Dean spun in the driver's seat to find Jack smiling at him in the back, a smile breaking over Dean’s weather beaten features, revealing the eye crinkles deep in his sun kissed skin that Jack had missed seeing, and didn’t get to see nearly enough while they were both on Earth.

“Jack! You’ve done a great job man! This place is everything anyone could dream of, you and Cas really outdid yourselves.”

Dean’s gaze locked with the boy in life he’d hated almost to the point of death, and all he could find now was utter and complete peace staring back at him, and he wondered if he would get to the place where he could feel the same peace everyone else seemed to feel.

“Dean, glad you finally made it,” Jack said, leaning forward in the seat and looking around to the road and pointing for Dean to drive up the gravel path hidden in the trees. Dean did so without question, putting his beloved Baby in drive, and pushing onward until a little cabin tucked away in the hallow appeared just in sight. You were sitting on the porch, watching, as if you were waiting for him, and as he turned to Jack in confusion Jack just smiled as he once did when he tried to give Dean his first Christmas present, only more deep and with more pride.

“I don’t remember her,” Dean murmured, turning back to look at you as you were standing up slowly and making your way to lean against the rough cut railing of the porch, eyes tracing over Dean’s cars almost fondly.

“That’s because you never got to meet her while you were alive. She was stolen from you Dean, long before you ever got the chance to find true happiness.”

Dean’s face contorted with confusion, but Jack simply placed his fingers to Dean’s forehead lightly, showing him all the things that could have been, and should have been, but never were, just like he did to you. When Jack was done, one giant tear rolled down Dean's face as he uttered the only thing he could have thought would possibly have been able to take something so precious away from him, so willingly. “Chuck.”

Jack nodded and looked back at you where you were waiting for Dean to finally get out of the car.

“This, Dean, this is the Heaven you deserve. This is home. This is peace. You did good Dean, and now it’s time for you to have everything without any terms or conditions.”

Dean’s eyes traced over your features and his heart swelled in his chest. He could feel it, the magnetic pull, the piece of him that was always missing beckoning to him to come home and lay his weary soul to rest. “Y/N,” he murmured before looking back at Jack. “How do I know her name?” he asked. Jack just smiled, looking into Dean’s eyes knowingly.

“Go home Dean, she’s been waiting for you for a long time.” With that Jack disappeared, leaving Dean alone in the car.

Slowly, Dean pushed the door open, and his eyes met yours as a smile spread across your face. He was perfect. He was everything you had missed and didn’t know you needed. He completed you.

You were the deepest piece of his soul that he had always missed, you were the reason his heart was beating now, and had always been the reason he got up and fought every day to get to the rest that he had found now. You were home, his home.

Dean placed a large hand to the side of your face as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him, and brushed your hair away from your face. His green eyes bore into your own with more emotion and love than you had ever felt in your life. There was no darkness there. There was no hurt, or self loathing, there was no weight of the world, there was no more fight and heartache. There was nothing but love and resounding peace that would last for the ages.

“I’m sorry I took so long, sweetheart,” Dean said, his lips brushing yours as you melted into his hold, humming at the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“S’Okay Dean,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as the two of you just held each other there in your little piece of Heaven. You finally had all you’d ever need. Dean had you, and your warrior was finally home.

Forever Tags:

@deandreamernp

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

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@love-jackles-37-blog

@supernatural-bellawinchester

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn one shot #dean winchester one shot #jensen ackles #jawritter #30 minutes in heaven #x reader inserts

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glenncoco4 · 3 years ago

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You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 5

••••

She steps off the dirt path and onto the small dock. Her presence doesn’t even effect him, which is concerning. “I thought I’d find you here.”

He doesn’t have the energy to respond, his thoughts are swirling and the anxiety he’s been having about this situation is bubbling to the surface more and more each day, especially because of her. His cerulean blues stay focused on the ripples of the water surrounding his feet.

Kicking off her flip-flop, the brunette takes a seat next to him on the old dock, putting her bare feet in the cool pond water right along side his. She turns to look at him, wondering what’s going on inside his head and for a moment as the sun illuminates is silhouette, something inside her heart shifts. “Why’d you run off like that?”

“I guess I just got a little bit overwhelmed by it all.”

“All of what?”

“The thought of going off to college and making something of myself.”

She huffs a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.

Marty quickly whips his head around, affronted by his best friend’s reaction. “I’m glad you’re enjoying my misery.”

She scoots closer to him, encircling his forearm with her own arms. “No, Marty its not...I’m laughing because you obviously haven’t been paying attention to what I’ve been saying for the past 7 years.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Don’t you realize what you mean to your mom, to my parents...to me? Marty, you’ve already made something of yourself. You are the kindest, funniest and best person I know. You changed my life; you’ve changed so many people’s lives.”

“Really?”

A soft smile crosses her features at the childlike hope in his cerulean blues. “Hey, have I ever lied to you before?”

“No.”

“Exactly. And I never will.” She states matter of factly before leaning her head against his shoulder, soaking in the beautiful glow of the setting sun cascading across the water with the person who makes her feel so safe it’s kinda ridiculous.

The tension in his body slowly ebbs away at his best friend’s words as the scent of lavender beautifully assaults his nose. Taking a deep calming breath, he leans his head against hers, knowing that whatever life throws at him, she’ll be there. He can count on that. “I know.”

••••

Stepping of the dirt trail and onto the old dock like she’s done so many times before, the brunette takes in the picture before her. There he is, clothes tattered, scars across his beautiful face, but he’s alive and that’s all that matters.

He turns around already feeling her presence ease the tension away from his battered body. His sorrowful blue eyes meet those of sweetly intense brown and the shine that glistens in them. Shaking his head in defeat, he realizes how close he had come to never seeing her again.

Kensi doesn’t give him a chance to say anything before she’s closing the distance between them, throwing her arms around him, she’s able to relax for the first time in four months. “You’re safe.”

His body clings to hers, hands grasping at her shirt feeling as though they can’t get close enough. That lavender scent that is so uniquely her fills his nostrils, immediately bringing him a sense of self. She’s here. He’s here. They’re here together and that’s all that matters. “Yeah, for now.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.”

She pulls back, a cross between anger and hurt written across her features. “Don’t.”

“Sorry.” The blonde apologizes, regretting his words the moment they left his lips.

Without thinking, her finger finds the red scrape on his cheek. “Are you okay?”

The feel of her skin against his brings back memories of that night a few months ago. He wants that again so bad. So bad he can almost taste it, but there’s something he has to take care of before he can even think about moving forward with her. “I’ll be better when I catch Lazik.”

“Woah. Woah. Woah. What do you mean when you catch Lazik?”

“I have to finish this, Kens.”

Seeing the determination set in his soulful blue eyes she knows there’s no stopping him, but she’ll be damned if he thinks she’s going to stand idly by. “No, we have to finish this.”

“I suppose I could use some backup.” He smirks, earning a playful nudge from his partner.

••••

A resounding gasp fills the agents ears as the tech operator discovers who the third vehicle belongs to. “Car’s registered to Dale John Sully.”

Kensi tilts her head back against the head rest in exasperation when Eric confirms that her best friend’s undercover persona is indeed inside the warehouse, putting his life in even more danger than before. “Callen, that’s Marty’s alias.”

The team leader shakes is head wondering why he’s so surprised that the detective is indeed in another sticky situation. “Your boy just loves trouble, doesn’t he.”

She stares at the roof of the car for a minute, thinking about Callen’s words. “It’s funny, cuz when we were growing up, it was always the other way around.”

“Kens, I’m not so sure this is a good idea.” Marty looks around the backyard nervously as his best friend pulls out the power saw from her dad’s tool shed.

“What are you talking about? It’s just a little tree house.”

“Yeah, but what’s your dad gonna say when he catches us with his power tools?”

The brunette begins to pull out the sawhorse before turning around to meet the 13 year old’s worried eyes.“He’s not gonna catch us and you’re not gonna tell him either.”

He feels a unfamiliar thud in his heart when the challenging spark in her mismatched orbs meet his.“Has anyone ever told you how cute you are when you’re homicidally angry?”

“In fact they have and he was never seen again.”

Taking a deep breath, Kensi focuses on the here and now. Rescuing Marty’s ass, just so she can kill him herself for going in alone. “So what’s the plan?”

••••

The bald man turns to meet Dale’s eyes, a dark smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You are surprised I have a wife?”

A shiver runs down his spine. “Everybody’s gotta have somebody, right?” The blonde answers as a sense of warmth and dread swarm through his body at the thought of his person, his somebody, his Kensi and how close they are to having at what he hopes will be forever.

••••

Callen watches as the shaggy blonde, presses the muzzle of the gun forcefully against the dirty cops jaw. “Deeks, look, he’s not worth it.”

Marty ignores the team leader’s statement as his anger continues to take control of his body. “Ask me again. Ask it again!”

Kensi watches on as a side of her best friend that she’s never seen before takes over. Thinking of how he would deal with this situation if their roles reverse, she does the only thing that would certainly bring her out of her rage. “Marty. Marty, put it down.”

As soon as his name leaves her lips a calmness washes over him and it suddenly hits him that she was there to witness what just happened. He empty’s the camber of the gun handing it off to the guys before looking for the nearest way out.

Seeing the frantic look of turmoil in her best friend’s eyes, Kensi places her hand against his chest, trying to bring him some sort of relief.

He shakes his head, trying to school his features as much as he can and does the one thing that never seems to work when it comes to her, not that he would want it to. He walks away from her without a word.

Finding a clear spot against the ally wall, Marty leans against the brick, sliding down until his ass his the hard concrete. He brings his knees up to his chest, burrowing his head into them as he finally lets his tears fall. The anger he’s been holding onto for so long, the pure shit that was this case and the most beautiful moment he’s ever experienced in his life all swimming around in his head.

He’s not sure how long it is before the familiar sound of her footfalls hit his ears. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t acknowledge her presence.

“Hey, are you okay?” She chastises herself for asking such a stupid question. Of course he’s not okay. She’s seen him come out of some pretty deep covers, but this one seems to be affecting him more than any other. Kneeling down in front of him, her hands find his, trying to once again comfort him the way she always has.

“I’d be better if everyone just left me alone.”

The bite in his voice tells her one thing, his walls are up and considering the emotional state he’s in right now, they won’t be coming down any time soon...even for her. She stands back up, shaking her head in frustration. “Understood.”

The sound of her footfalls getting further and further away finally draw him out of his “cage,” realizing that she’s not going to fight him right now even though she knows its what he needs. He can feel the strain in his throat as her silhouette gets smaller and smaller. “Kens...” He sighs in defeat as she quickly turns the corner.

This day keeps getting shittier and shittier.

••••

He brings his fist up to tap on the piece of wood once more, but just as he does it’s pulled open. A set of mesmerizingly mysterious eyes are suddenly staring back at him, leaving him at a loss for words. “I-“

“I thought you wanted to be alone.”

“I did, but...”

“But what?”

She’s upset, actually upset doesn’t seem to be the right word for what he sees staring back at him. Ever since they were kids he’s imagined this moment in so many different ways, this wasn’t really one of them. “I-I wanted to tell you that after that night we had...I never meant for it to happen.”

Kensi can feel her heart split into two at his words. The thought of this...them..of what they could be, it’s all suddenly gone. All the fight she thought was inside her has dissipated. She won’t let herself cry. She won’t. “O-oh, yeah, right. I-I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, you were probably just in the heat of the moment and didn’t want to hurt my-“

Before she can finish her sentence, his lips are on hers, cutting her off. His hands come up, cradling her face, kissing her with such passion and reverence that it would put a Nicholas Sparks movie to shame.

Their tongues duel as if its their last moments on earth and this is goodbye. It’s a few minutes later when they have to pull back, both panting as the rise and fall of their chests brush against each other. “What was that?”

“It seems as though I’m not so good with the words, so I had to resort to other tactics.”

“Not that I didn’t enjoy those tactics, but you know you can tell me anything, Marty.”

“I know. I know. It’s just, laying it all there and saying the words out loud...to you, I-“

“Deeks, what is it?”

At the sound of his last name leaving her lips, he knows he better get to the point and stop being circuitous. It’s now or never. Chips on the table. All in. Taking one last calming breath, his hand finds itself back on her jaw, the feel of her skin against his sends a shock wave through his body. Conveying everything he possibly can in his eyes, he says what’s been sitting on the tip of his tongue and in some part of his head for 20 years now. “I’ve always wanted this one specific thing in life and I didn’t realize until recently what it was. I want you, Kens. I want you and me...I want us. You’re so much more than my best friend. You’re everything to me, Kensi and I’m so far past being in love with you.”

As his confession washes over her, everything stands still as her broken heart slowly mends itself together. This is so not what she was expecting tonight. “You-you love me?”

“I do.” His lips rise into a small smile. “I think the night we made love made me realize it even more.”

He watches as an unreadable look crosses her face as if she’s trying to size him up before turning around and walking further into her apartment. Seeing as though she doesn’t slam the door in his face, he follows her in, quickly shutting the door and becomes confused when he doesn’t see her sitting on the couch.

The brunette follows his movements as he walks further into the living room before she makes her next move. Coming up behind him, she spins his body around and pushes him onto the couch. Straddling his lap, she presses her heat against his. His arms immediately wrapping around her waist loving the feel of her body against his as her movements quickly bringing his member to life.

Slowly moving in, a soft blissful smile spreads to her face as her intense mismatched orbs dance with passion. “I’m in love with you, too.”

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #Kensi Blye #Marty Deeks #AU #Kensi x Deeks #You Can Count On Me #Chapter 5 #NCIS: LA #NCIS: LA Fanfic

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realwizardshit · 3 years ago

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oh man it’s been a while since ive seen some lolita drama but here it is. i got invited to a “big sisters of lolita” fb group which is for like. experienced peeps to give advice to new people. this person made a post that was like hey, ive never actually worn lolita but i wrote this article introducing people to it, and linked to the article, and was like is there anyone here who i can interview? but.

the article. is so bad. because this person is as stated an outsider, they dont fucking know anything, and they did NOT do a lot of research. everything is rather ignorant, as if everything they know about Japan is from their 2008 high school history textbook, tinged with a little bit* of racism, and this is nitpicking but for a Professional Researched Article the grammar is like, high school level.

*actually a lot

some highlights as i read it:

“We know Japan’s strictness with their way of life in terms of day-to-day life. The way of the Samurais, [...]”

“[...] the World War ending barely two decades before with the falling of the nuclear bomb. This led to America throwing millions of dollars to help Japan get back on its feet” HEY PAL???? WHO DO YOU THINK DROPPED THE BOMBS??????????????????

this is a whole sentence: “Resistance by reading manga (comics) instead of University books.”

they go on to explain in basic detail how lolita came from harajuku streetwear which is fine nothing wrong with that

a picture of Gwen Stefani dressed in a gaudy ass mismatched outfit that’s too small for her standing in front of three Asian girls in matching outfits which seems a bit yikes(tm)

“But as a Lolita, they can be young forever and disregard all these norms and rules put forth by society.”

OF COURSE mentioning the Nabokov novel because we can’t have nice things on this earth

“Because why not have some guy on the internet with no background in the field talk about it?” why not, I wonder?

*takes a shot because the author got racist again* “[...] let’s get scientific a bit.” then goes on for 2 paragraphs talking about, i shit you not, the genetic condition known as neoteny and how, quote, “most East and Southeast Asians carry this gene which gives them that childlike look.” an ignorant as fuck pseudoscientific, vaguely eugenics ish paragraph about selective breeding and what Humans find attractive

“So you can say Cuteness/kawaiiness is built into the mind, body, and soul for over 35,000 years for the Asian people.”

more talk about genetics why is this the hill you want to die on oh my god

author is from India and probably not a native english speaker. i retract my roast about their grammar its not that big of a deal, up to now i thought they were american

talking about big sisters of lolita. is this the only community they know about?

they also wrote a Starter Guide to Lolita and Ouji Fashion, let’s take a look....

wrote “J*p” instead of “Japanese” or “JP”

“Also, I’m not the right person to ask about every word in the Lolita dictionary.” Why the fuck did you write this then?

calling Taobao pieces from resellers [Reseller] Brand

a weird obsession with the military lolita substyle, like mentioning it more and before than sweet/goth/classic which is a little 🤔

on ouji (the boyish counterpart to lolita, literally translates to “prince”): “But they have more of a shota feel to the whole set.” OP I DONT KNOW IF YOU KNOW WHAT THAT WORD MEANS

"Since Lolitas is to make oneself doll-like, [...]”

“How to act as a proper Lolita (TLDR)” two paragraphs on how you’re supposed to Act Girly and Proper which has absolutely not existed in any of my experience and really undermines OP’s half-assed attempts to characterize lolita as feminist (it is, but neither of these articles do a very good job of showing this)

“When going to tea parties, remember to carry a cupcake. It’s customs.” What?

“The guy who wrote this and the previous article is someone who has zero experience in Lolita fashion and culture and the studies of genes.” WHY DO YOU KEEP BRINGING UP GENES IT’S CLOTHES??? WHAT DO CLOTHES HAVE TO DO WITH GENETICS??? YOU FUCKING CREEP????

anyway i’ve taken lethal psychic damage. everyone in the comments is rightly roasting this guy.

#long post #egl #HOOO mama this was bad to look at #i feel like i know this guy's entire political beliefs and they're NOT good

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

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handmaid - 32

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i feel like i always make my couples dance but that’s because i think couple dancing is such an intimate thing that is so beautiful. anyway, the song they’re dancing to is this one (i absolutely adore the soundtrack of this movie, it makes my inner music geek happy), highly recommend listening to it when the time for the dancing comes. hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N stared at herself in the mirror in her pyjama shorts and bra, hands moving over her stomach. She always felt somehow detached from her own self whenever placed in mob parties, whenever Gwen told her what to do, whenever someone told her how to act or who to be but somehow the slight idea that there was something growing in her, someone who was gonna need her for the first years of their lives, someone who would know her as her and not as the handmaid for the Forrest heiress, other than Sebastian’s hidden and disbelieving mistress, other than an orphan. That is enough, and that would forever be enough to make her fight just a little for the little baby who wasn’t even the size of a small blueberry yet.

She was so lost in her own reflection in the mirror she didn’t realise Sebastian had came in and was watching her from the door frame, small smile on his face from what he thought was a small act of vanity from the seemingly innocent woman. Coming up from behind her, he wrapped her arms around her waist, his hand slightly touching her stomach in a way that made her somehow escape the reality they both were in. In another life, Y/N would’ve probably come up with a quirky way to tell him she was pregnant and he would be happy, they would both paint the nursery in a neutral colour after arguing about what colour would be best, they would throw a baby shower and laugh at all the name suggestions and finally he would be by her side when the baby was born. But this wasn’t another life, this was life as it was and here she wasn’t even sure if she should tell him.

- I’m sorry about Gwen. I’ll be sure to have a word with her about that. - he kissed her temple. - I still think you should see a doctor, angel.

- I’m alright, Seb. - she turned her back to the mirror, no longer wanting to see that unobtainable image that would most likely haunt her whenever her mind wasn’t preoccupied. Sebastian sighed, knowing he couldn’t force her to see a doctor. - I’m fine, I promise.

- Take a break from all of this. Let’s ... I don’t know, let’s go upstate until the wedding. - he suggested, not wanting her to be subjected to anymore of Gwen’s annoyance or any other mob business. - I’m sure we can figure something out so we ca ...

- You don’t need to take care of me all the time. - she caressed his face, wondering if her baby would have his eyes. - Who takes care of you?

- I don’t need anyone to take care of me, I only need to take care of you. I am so sorry about Gwen, once again, she’s acting like a bridezilla lately.

- How was the tux fitting?

- It’s light blue as if we’re going to prom. - he chuckled yet Y/N couldn’t take the thought of the man she was in love with, the father of her unborn child, marrying the woman she’d known since they were both kids. Funny how she could’ve just listened to Dan and not go to his home when she could. It would’ve been so easy. - What’s going on inside your mind, angel?

- Just worries.

- You don’t need to worry, angel. I will never let anything harm you. - this was no empty promise on his part. If Sebastian could and he could, he would never allow any harm to come to her, any scratch to be made or any hair to be pulled. Y/N, however, for the very first time, was pessimistic believing that the harm had already been done. Before she could open her mouth to speak, the familiar rumble in her stomach made her whine before she rushed back to the bathroom yet despite how nauseous she was, she couldn’t throw up. Sebastian followed her, putting a hand on her back. - Maybe you need to eat something.

- I’m okay. - she turned around, her back leaning against the toilet while her head leaned against his shoulder. - Probably just a bug or a very bad cold.

- You wouldn’t have to guess if you agreed to see a doctor like you should, angel.

- Are you lecturing me, now? - she chuckled lightly, eyes moving up to stare at his playful expression, trying to cheer up the environment. - Maybe I should eat something.

- Come on. - he got up, taking her hand in his. They both exited her bedroom and Sebastian led her to the dinning room. It was mostly hotel employees setting the tables for the dinning hour but what looked more interesting was the big long table at the end of the room full of entrées that looked like little pieces of delectable heaven. Y/N stared at the food, wondering from where she wanted to begin as she felt like eating the whole array by herself. Instead, she decided to pick a mini sausage roll, grabbing it by a toothpick and placing it into her mouth, the taste exploding in what she thought was the most pleasurable thing she had experienced today.

Sebastian merely chuckled at her behaviour, finding charming how she always managed to look somehow interested in every single thing surrounding her, almost as if she hadn’t lost the childlike curiosity most of people lose as they enter the adulthood. She was just something else and all he wanted to do was just run away to somewhere quiet and get to wake up to her serene face for the rest of his life. Alas, not everything is what you want it to be.

His thoughts were interrupted by the dinner pianist starting to play something rather soft and subdued yet melodically enough to break through the mix of silence with employees running in and out preparing for what was to come. Noticing Y/N was distracted picking another entrée, he walked to what looked like a guy in his mid 50′s and slipped him a note before returning to her. Soon enough, the melody changed.

Before she could pick something else from the table, he took her hand in his, walking her to an empty spot near the piano. In advance to her asking what he was doing, Sebastian held her hand to his chest, his free hand leaning against the side of her waist, creating a closeness so close the tip of their shoes almost touched. His torso and legs moved side to side in an intimate move only for the two of them. Y/N closed her eyes but Sebastian kept his open, looking at her head under his chin and imagining how life could be if things were different. Maybe if things were different they could run away somewhere to France, get a little place in Paris which she liked so much, a little place with a balcony that gave view to the city of love where every night they would dance to the same melody for hours and hours and then he would propose to her some night. Then things would move along and they would have a little one, maybe a little girl with the same beautiful eyes Y/N had, a little girl with whom he would dance in the balcony while Y/N watched while leaning against the wall. No mob, no killing, no targets, no contractual relationships, just two regular people living a regular life. Regular was enough for him.

- This is a very sad song. - she looked up to him, breaking through the silence.

- Sad slow songs are very beautiful.

- Doesn’t it make you sad? - she leaned her head against his chest, listening to his slow heart beat.

- My mother used to play the piano constantly, it reminds me of her.

- Do you miss her?

- I barely remember her, she and my father divorced pretty early. He got custody but whenever I hear slow piano music, it always reminds me of her. She was a good woman.

- She raised a good man. - Y/N’s free hand came up to caress his cheek, a soft dainty dreamingly look on her face. - You’re a good man, Sebastian.

- Do you even believe people are anything other than good? - he questioned, looking at her lovingly while the music put them but on a little dazed bubble which none of them really wanted to leave.

- I believe everyone can be good yet not everyone chooses to. Kindness is achievable for everyone.

- How do you not get hardened by this life? Not to sound rude but you were born and raised by the mob, you know what we do.

- I get to chose who I am. Besides, it isn’t like Mr. Forrest let me or Gwen anywhere near the action. We were constantly in boarding school.

- Well... - the music changed and he looked around as the people started to come in for dinner. Before anyone could see the two of them, he stepped away from her, leaving her missing his touch and him still feeling her ghost strokes on his face. Sebastian was much too smart to know that if anyone discovered they were close, she would be in much more trouble than he would be. In all honesty, he didn’t think there would be any consequences for him, however, there surely would be some for her.

They were once again apart and the next days only seemed to worsen for Y/N. Between listening to Gwen complain about how the cake wasn’t right or how the napkins weren’t the right shade of periwinkle, she’d spend her free time constantly tired and wanting to sleep or feeling nauseous. Nevertheless, the much dreaded day came and Gwen had woke her up at an unfair 4 AM in the morning to get her hair and makeup “just right” as she said. However, it was rather hard to remain awake when Y/N face was constantly being massaged by very soft face brushes.

- Did you hear about Vanessa? - Gwen commented as her hair was pulled into rollers. - You know Vanessa, she went with us to university. She was supposed to be here but you will not believe it, she got knocked up.

- I need to congratulate her.

- No way, she’s knocked up by Joe, you know, dad’s friend’s son. Imagine being pregnant from a married guy, as if being pregnant wasn’t bad enough.

- Yeah, terrible. - she looked to the side as more makeup was applied to her face. - Would it be that bad though?

- Dad always said there’s only one thing worse than a mistress, a pregnant one. All that designer clothing she has, not gonna fit anymore. Oh god and breast feeding? Ugh, this is why I don’t want kids.

- Yeah ...

Sometimes you have to pull yourself out of dreamland and make a choice. No matter how hard it is.

It was time for her to make her own.

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