#forever prayed for his happy ending and it paid off

[jasperandhenryslovechild]

SWEET TOOTH S3 SPOILERS

↓ ↓ ↓

someone get on my wavelength here because fire by kimya dawson is SOOOOO sweet tooth s3 coded because like. what.

"if we really want for this world to survive

we'll just take what we need to stay alive

it's a mistake to just take and not give

it's not true that we must murder to live"

"my heart will stop if i put out the fire

as long as im burning I'll keep on yearning

to save the world, not sure how but im learning

and telling the truth the best way that im able

placing my cards all face up on the table

it's okay to be scared, you don't have to act tough

take all that pain and turn it into love

take all that pain and turn it into love

and let your emotions be fuel to your flame

being on fire will keep you awake"

like. HELLO? HELLO GUS?!!?? UR SPEECH TO ZHANG ABOUT HOW HUMANITY FUCKING SUCKS?????? ABOUT HOW PEOPLE ARE GREEDY?? TRYING TO PUT UR FAITH IN HUMANITY AND THEN FINDING OUT ABOUT HOW SHITTY THEY ARE AND THEN DECIDING THAT THEY'RE JUST. UGH. YUHHHHGFHHH UUUGHFHHFHH GUS MY SWEET BOY I MISS YOU BRO

im not normal about it im not normal about gus SOMEONE GO LISTEN TO THIS SONG PLEASE I BEG

[justmystyles]

Hi, could you make a fic about something to do with money maybe Harry dating a girl who came from not much and she still isn’t used to the fancy things in life like he is and so when there dating she feels bad ever spending his money.

I’m currently having to sell most of my Harry merch because we can’t afford to fix things in our house and I am very sad over it so I just need some comfort but if you decide not to write this, you’re still one of my favorite writers. Thank you for all the comfort you bring me.

Love Don't Cost A Thing

read my other work here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

a/n: to my anonymous requester, i am so sorry for the hard times you have found yourself in. i wish i had something i could say that would help you through. just know that hard times don't last forever, there will be a light at the end of the tunnel, and i am hoping and praying that you reach it soon.

also, thank you so much for your kind words. i am so incredibly honored that you consider me one of your favorite writers, that compliment made more than just my day, i think it may have made my whole summer. i hope this blurb is what you are looking for, and provides you the comfort you need right now.

if you ever need someone to talk to, i am here. i may not be able to provide much, but i am happy to be a listening ear (reading eye?) if you need one. 🖤

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

The waiter drops the check at your table, thanking you for coming in and continues on his way. You reach your hand out to grab it, but Harry beats you to it. Again.

“Harry, you don’t have to–” 

“I know, baby, but I want to. I love spoiling my girl.” He reaches his free hand across the table, squeezing yours gently. 

Ever since you and Harry started going out, you hadn’t paid for a thing. Not only that, but the things he’s been paying for have been extravagant and way outside of your comfort zone. The gifts, the meals, the flowers, the flights. He has taken you around the world and back, and has refused to let you pay for any of it.

Holidays and birthdays had been hard too. Harry always gave you multiple extravagant gifts, you could never even come close to matching it. He told you he didn’t care, that your gifts were always so meaningful, and that’s what was important. You knew he meant it, that he didn’t need you to buy him fancy things. He was more than capable of doing it himself. But it didn’t matter to you, you felt an imbalance in the relationship that was only growing with time. And you were sure that the gossip blogs and fans noticed it, talking about how you were just with him for his money. It wasn’t true, you and Harry knew that and it should have been enough, but it wasn’t. 

You didn’t grow up poor, you were grateful for what you had and knew that there were others that were worse off than you. But you didn’t even have half of what you were experiencing now. Your parents raised you to be practical with your money, to save and not to spend frivolously. You always had what you needed, but weren’t always able to have what you wanted. 

Now that you were with Harry, even if you just made an offhand comment about a cute piece of jewelry or clothing, all of the sudden it was yours. You love Harry, and you know he was doing it because he loves you too, but it still didn’t sit right with you. 

Later that night, you were laying in bed together. Harry was talking to you about his schedule for the upcoming month.

“So I was thinking you could come meet me in Paris. We could go to that little cafe we love, do a little shopping.” He suggested with a smile, loving the idea of walking through the most romantic city in the world with the love of his life. 

“Sure,” you agreed. “I could probably swing the money for a round trip ticket.” 

“You’re not swinging anything,” he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.” 

“Harry, I can afford a flight.” You’re not sure you really can. You’ll probably eat canned goods and boxed mac and cheese for a month, but it’s better than the guilt you feel every time Harry opens his wallet for you. 

“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to. I’m asking you to come spend time with me, it should be my treat.” 

“Yeah, but everything is always your treat, Harry.” You say with a slight bite in your tone. 

Harry looks at you confused, and a little bit hurt. “Angel, are you alright?” 

“No Harry, I don’t think I am,” you confess. “I can’t keep doing this, it doesn’t feel okay.” Harry stays silent, allowing you to say what you need too. “I love you so much, and you have the kindest, most generous heart of anyone I have ever met. I just, it’s just too much. The meals, the gifts. You don’t let me pay for anything, I feel like… I don’t know. I know you don’t see a problem with it, but I do. It just makes me feel… uncomfortable. I’m basically living off of your money, and I don't feel right about it.”

“Baby,” he said as he let out a breath. “I had no idea you felt this way.” He brought his hand up, brushing your cheek gently. 

“I know you didn’t. And it’s a me problem, I know that too.” 

Harry shakes his head sharply. “No it’s not, it’s an us problem. You’re my girl, we’re in this together.” You look down, overwhelmed by how tender he was being with you despite the way you unloaded on him. “Why haven’t you told me about this before?”

You shrug, “I don’t know, it sounds kind of crazy when you think about it.”

“How?” He asked.

“Because, there are girls that would kill to be in my position, who would love to be spoiled and given all these extravagant gifts, and here I am complaining about it. I sound so ungrateful.” 

“Hey hey hey,” Harry holds your face in his hands. “You do not sound ungrateful.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you, I love you so much and I give you all of these things because you deserve the world.”

“I love you too, but I don’t need all these things, the fancy dinners, the clothes, I just need you.”

He smiles softly at you, the adoration clear in his gaze. “I know angel, and that’s one of the things I love most about you. Your heart is so pure and good. I am so incredibly lucky that you have given it to me to hold, and I don’t ever want you to feel uncomfortable, especially not because of my actions.” 

“I know, and that’s part of the reason I didn’t tell you, I knew you’d feel bad. I don’t want you to feel bad about doing nice things for me.” 

“Tell me what I can do, how I can make you feel better.” He asked, willing to do anything to make you happy. 

You take a deep breath as you try to articulate your needs. “When I offer to pay for things, let me.”

Harry nods in agreement, pulling your face to his and kissing you softly. “Anything you want, love.” 

“And just because I say something is cute, doesn’t mean you have to buy it for me.” You add. 

“Got it,” he kisses you again. “But I can still spoil you sometimes, right?” 

“Sometimes,” you say in a subtle warning tone. “Just not all the time.”

Harry smiles, his brow arching mischievously. “How about I spoil you right now, and it won’t cost a cent.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at the implication of his words. “Sure, I guess I’d be okay with that.” 

[usedtobecooler]

isn't that so sad | steve harrington x eddie munson 1.9k

summary: steve struggles with his mental health and no longer being needed by his friends in the wake of vecna's defeat.

tw: 18+ minors dni, post season four, everybody lives. poor mental health and its direct impact, general sadness with a happy ending.

Steve feels himself begin to spiral once everything happens, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

After Vecna, the Upside Down, Dustin crying and begging for Steve's help. Dragging Eddie out with nothing more than determination and strength brought from the pits of his stomach.

He looked after everybody on autopilot, threw himself into protector mode and ran around like a mother hen to make sure everybody was safe, looked after and protected. Until one by one everybody got better and moved on, and the only people left who truly needed protection were Eddie and Max.

He spent almost all of his free time at Hawkins Memorial Hospital, at one of two bedsides as induced comas continued on. Took to sleeping in Eddie's room at nights whilst Wayne continued to work at the plant, because the Government hush money didn't go very far once medical bills were needing paid.

Hell, Steve was the only person there when Eddie awoke from his coma three months later, and knocked Steve off of his feet when Eddie grabbed for his hand and pleaded with him to just stay. Didn't want nurses or doctors or even his own fucking family to come in, he just wanted Steve.

New normal began soon after Eddie awoke, Steve's days that were once dreary and pointless were now filled with driving Eddie to therapy and rehab appointments, going grocery shopping for Wayne so he could sleep after his shifts. Checking in on Lucas as he prayed at Max's bedside, taking visits to Dustin and his mother, who had a habit of making enough dinner so that Steve could eat. Claudia knew Steve, knew he didn't look after himself, was too busy making sure everybody else was healthy and alive. So, she made sure he had the same courtesy, and he was forever thankful.

Things had routine, normalcy, until suddenly they didn't anymore. Eddie was back to (mostly) full health, school restarted so Steve didn't see the kids much unless they wanted a ride or a place to crash at the weekends — he wasn't needed anymore.

Robin left. Her parents hauled ass to the other side of the country, and she went, too. He couldn't lie to himself, say it didn't hurt, because it near enough fucking killed him. Broke his heart in two to watch his soulmate leave without a trace. She wrote often, called occasionally, but to not have her hand within grabbing distance when things got tough — well, that's something Steve would never come to terms with.

His parents never checked in, never asked about what happened in Hawkins, he doubted they knew much beyond the vague tellings that the news broadcasted. They sent money, they always did. But the house was empty, void. Steve longed for his mothers hugs, his fathers stern voice carrying through the halls. He hadn't wanted those things since he was fifteen and left on his own for the first time, but the loneliness crept in painfully quick, everything felt dark.

Steve still slept with the nail bat next to his bed. He'd seen this before, ever since the fateful night that he stepped in to help Jon and Nancy fight that fucking demogorgon. Just when they thought everything was over, something would happen. Whether that be Demodogs, Russians, Vecna. There was always something new to get them, and he could never rely on the fact that everything had gone quiet once they 'defeated' him.

He feels himself fading, but he's too proud to call and ask for anything. Blames it on the one too many knocks to the head, that's clearly what's causing this imbalance in his feelings. Doesn't want to call Nance and ask her how things are going at college, doesn't want to pester Dustin now that he's sixteen and old enough to drive, doesn't want to stop by Eddie's new government issued trailer for a smoke. He's far too sure he'd be considered more of a nuisance than company.

It's March. Spring Break, the one year anniversary. Steve can't remember the last time he ate, or showered, or left the position he curled up in on his mattress. The phone next to his bed rings on and off for days, and Steve chooses to leave it unanswered.

He didn't want pity calls.

He falls asleep finally, sometime after the second or third sunrise. Succumbing to exhaustion, heavy eyelids drooping shut, slipping into the first dreamless sleep he'd had since that fateful night in 1983.

"Harrington! Steve, Steve c'mon, wake up!"

A panicked voice rouses Steve. Firm, bony fingers shaking his bare shoulders as his bleary eyes struggle to open.

He's just so tired.

"Steve, man, please," the voice tries again, desperate and pleading. Steve's fuzzy head knows that voice, can make it out even in the state he's in, has heard it in his thoughts and his dreams for a year now.

"Eddie," Steve's voice is gruff, painfully dry, lips tacky from lack of saliva and fluids, "how... how'd you get in?"

Eddie barks out this fucking incredulous laugh, holds his hands up in defeat before slapping them down on his thighs dramatically, eyes wild and brows up behind his fringe, "I broke in, Steve! Nobody heard from you in four days. Four fucking days! I thought I was gonna come in here and you were gonna be— fuck!"

Steve tries to process what he's saying, feels this horrific pang of guilt in his chest when he realizes he's upset Eddie. He'd never even thought, not even for a second, that people would be worried he was dead.

"I'm sorry, m'sorry," Steve apologizes groggily, tries so hard to lift his heavy head from the pillow but fuck, if his neck won't allow it. He feels so useless, can't even find the fucking strength to pull himself up from his slumber. It's embarrassing, he's mortified.

"Hey, don't," Eddie scrambles, wraps ringed fingers around Steve's slender wrist, almost in a feeble attempt to pin him in place on the mattress, and Steve goes willingly, "you... you're not yourself, man. We should've known, I should've known. When you didn't answer the phone to Rob—"

"Robs called?" Steve winces, pained and choked. He doesn't want to fucking cry in front of Eddie Munson, not after everything. A missed phone call shouldn't be the hairline trigger.

"Yeah, Steve," Eddie sighs, the pad of his thumb running along the veins on the back of Steve's wrist soothingly, almost like he's trying absently to stop the freak out that he feels impending, "don't. Don't beat yourself up, okay? It's our faults, we didn't check in. I'm so fucking sorry, we all are. Things have just been—"

"Busy, I know." Steve sighs, still curled in a goddamn ball on his side, like he's frozen in place, held down and imprisoned by nothing but the weight of his own thoughts. He feels his eyes grow hot, teary, "Nobody needed me anymore."

There's a beat of silence, then Eddie rips the comforter off of Steve, exposing his body to the chilly air. Steve winces, half expects Eddie to try and haul his ass out of bed, give him the tough love his dad used to when he was given a telling off for something and would hide under the covers to cry.

Harrington men didn't cry.

But, Eddie Munson was always surprising Steve. Ever since that fateful day in that fucking boat house at Rick's, when the scrawny kid Tommy Hagan used to beat up for fun used his brute strength to pin Steve to a fucking wall.

He clambers into bed with Steve, Reeboks still on his feet, leather jacket on his shoulders, not a care in the damn world. Those wild curls fanning out over Steve's pillow as he lies down, face to face.

Steve's suddenly self conscious, knows he probably fucking reeks. Hasn't brushed his teeth or washed his hair in who knew how long, deodorant long worn off from the cold sweats he lay in. He cringes, embarrassment creeping up hot on his neck — he never wanted anybody to see him like this.

"When my old man used to come home drunk, my mom would lay in bed with me like this, gimme hugs and run her fingers through my hair til I fell asleep," Eddie explains, voice quiet as he shuffles in close to Steve, their knees knocking, "I was scared of him. She didn't want me to be alone. She died when I was six, then it was just me an' him, nothing to comfort me when he came home and yelled, blamed me for his loss on whatever card game they played that night."

Steve furrows his brows, chest tightening at Eddie's story. He doesn't understand why Eddie's telling him this, curses his stupid brain for being slow to tack on to what this all means, but he understands, to an extent. His own mom used to love him and comfort him, too, once upon a time.

She wasn't dead, but sometimes it felt like she was.

Steve doesn't realize he's crying until Eddie's eyes widen in shock, his gangly body flailing a little as he moves in closer to scoop Steve into his arms, pulling him into his torso. Steve's whole body freezes for a split second, goosebumps littering his skin at the feeling of Eddie's warm body basically engulfing his own fragile one.

"Fuck, sorry, man. Didn't mean to make you cry. Was just a stupid little story, my way of saying — fuck me," Eddie panics, struggles, stumbling over his own words as Steve sobs quietly into the soft material of his worn in shirt, "I get it. Feeling like you have to be on your own, and work it out on your own, because you've only had yourself for as long as you can remember. But you're not alone now, Steve. We're not alone."

Steve cries until his throat is raw and he's soaked through Eddie's shirt with his tears, tightly fisting the material because he won't allow himself to hug Eddie back. Eddie anchors him, buries a hand in his hair and strokes soothingly until Steve's doing nothing more than dryly hiccupping into his chest.

"I— I'm sorry," Steve apologises again, struggling to get the tiniest of words out past the hyperventilating, "I didn't— didn't want this t-to happen. Wanted to be — be strong for ev-everybody."

"Stop fuckin' fighting your feelings, Harrington. Let us look after you and love you. It's time somebody took care of you, you've done it for us for long enough." Eddie's stern but still soft, chin hooked atop Steve's head, "We can start slow, okay? I need you to drink some fluids, before you end up in the hospital."

Steve agrees tentatively. And it's not long before just drinking fluids turns to showering, eating a full meal, stepping outside in the daylight. Sleeping through the night, going to the movie theatre with the gang. Getting a new job, visiting Robin across the country.

Eddie's by his side through it all.

Steve falls hard but Eddie falls harder.

hurt my own feelings with this one my guys <;/3

[ericcarrsworshipper]

You and Eric Carr Fluff

After a long day off yesterday filled with a coffee date; talking for hours. You both had a lot to catch up on since Eric had been on tour which led to renting a movie and grabbing some fast food for an easy dinner. Things had been tough with the two of you, not in a negative sense; just how you and Eric had always been so close since you had first met and now with the heavy tour schedule, this had been the longest the two if you had been apart. You weren't dating but many assumed you were. Perhaps you were more than friends but for you two, anything you did seemed to be just platonic. Whether there were underlying feelings, none had been admitted yet.

You often held hands, cuddled and shared the same bed. None of which seemed odd to either of you, it seemed so natural. Paul had made some jokes at one point while you joined Eric on tour a while back but you paid no attention to the words. Space was tight and if it meant sharing a bed just to stay in Eric's company? So be it.

But for now, you were in your apartment, the tour had ended and Eric was lying on his front beside you, his hair everywhere and his face buried into the pillow. Your nails slowly scratched up and down his back, occasionally drawing shapes into his skin as your attention settled on the magazines, slowly flipping through the pages as you started to hear the birds and see the sun slowly rise. You were sat in a vest and shorts set, Eric asleep in his boxers though you knew he hated it. But as long as you were in bed he'd damn well wear some boxers. You found it funny how he'd complain and yet joke how he'd just get into bed naked and kick you out to sleep on the couch. You always threatened to release his naughty pictures to the press of he ever tried to kick you out of your own bed. He had tried it once as a joke and he ended up with a very red handprint on his ass.

The memory made you smile, a silent laugh accompanied it. You glanced over at Eric's sleeping frame, watching the gentle rise and fall, hearing his light snores and for a moment you prayed that things could stay this way forever. It was peaceful. It felt endless. He was the epitome of home.

Lost in thought you hand noticed how Eric had shifted, glancing over to you with sleep written over his features, smiling softly up at you. In that moment you both unknowingly shared the same feeling; a sense of warm happiness.

[lucreziasredwyne]

tw: mentions of infant death who: @garlandhightower​ when: flashback, set some months following the death of lord adnan redwyne where: the arbor, the reach

September came and went, and she prayed somebody would have awoken her when it did end; the atmosphere that had settled quietly within the family keeps of Vinestown felt as though vines of misery and grief stretched through the terracotta coloured winding halls; vines that acted more like veins in the grief that slowly encompassed them all. The birth of the future ruling Lord had brought forth some of the most peaceful days she had ever experienced within her life; not days of overt happiness and celebration and joy, but days of genuine bliss, peace and gratitude. 

Her prayers felt lighter; like the sun had shone down and finally deemed her and her family worthy for all the hardship that had paid off. Lucrezia Redwyne felt worthy of the Gods love, and it showed in all the grace and the love she bestowed upon the sibling she had finally been blessed with. 

It rained the day the congregation of men returned the gift of the Gods back to the soil they would all someday return to, and how it seemed to never stop raining for the days that followed; raining from the heavens, and raining from hazel hues that seemed forever at the brink. The brink of unleashing the sobs that bubbled within her chests, sobs demanding answers; sobs that came with hearing the sound of cries as her mother’s body hit the floor at her inconsolable grief that came with the final goodbye, or the sound of her ladies that rushed to help shield her from view and help the woman have some water. 

What a small mound it was, smaller than she could have pictured when she finally graced the burial ground when the men had left - which seemed to be filled with endless amounts of flowers; almost as though they were a wave of petals. As though the flow of life was utterly natural, to grant him and to take him away so seamlessly. 

November came and went, and Lucrezia Redwyne turned twenty and two. Maesters whispered of her mother entering the third stage of her life, and the family continued to adorn black whilst speaking of the future of the Arbor; how imperative it would be to secure the position with whatever faction of dragons seemed the most powerful. The Greens, no doubt, as a result of their own close association with House Hightower. The 23rd came and went, and December came, and went. 

She stopped wondering at one point. Knew he would come eventually, when he could. If he had been given leave and the time to do so, always the conditional. Perhaps she was always to be the conditional if; perhaps she would be lying if she did not openly admit to saying her heart ached with how far away he felt. Kings Landing was no place she wished to venture, nor a place Lord Arlo Redwyne wished for his daughter to grace; and it felt so very far away. A promised letter of visiting in late December had been read and forgotten, as it had so many times before; only this time, her father reminded her of Garland’s arrival as though he were shocked she could have forgotten. The stare she gave back to him was a blank one.

Lucrezia stood and ensured his favourite foods were spread out for him when he would visit her, and a part of her wished to turn him away, and another part of him wished to ask him why he did not come sooner. A part of her wished to grab hold of him and force him to look upon the grave of the family he had not managed to come and see - because they were not as important. Not as important as those Targaryens he seemed constantly busy with. Constantly. 

She expected to hold her grace and decorum as he entered her chambers, and yet, the sight of him was enough to cause her lower lip to curve downwards in the way it always did when she was close to crying. “Where were you?” She asked, her voice cracking slightly; she did not expect to start the conversation like this already, and yet, the tears did not flow yet. Only welled within her eyes as she looked upon him. He was tired, she could see it, instantly. But were they not all tired? 

“Need I be a dragon to have you remember me, cousin?” 

[chloeworships]

Witchcraft and Envy Prayer:

For the ladies…

Dear Heavenly Father,

We come to you today to ask for justice and restoration. Our hearts are as heavy as armour and we are battle hardened and wounded.

We were sympathetic and kind to others yet in their hearts they deceived and envied us unaware of the sacrifices you’ve asked us to make to be where we are and where we are going. And so Heavenly Father since the evil one entered them just as he entered Judas and since they do not want us to prosper yet are unwilling to pay the price we paid to be blessed, may this prayer be our supplication to you to right these wrongs…. May this prayer be their portion. May we always have Victory in your name for we are righteous though imperfect.

Any man that has placed a spell on a woman (us) to keep her bound to him, to keep her stuck, to control, abuse and manipulate her and has not repented to the LORD and found Jesus, as of today going forward, he will be bound to his circumstances forever never to rise again. She will be set free in Jesus name.

Any person trying to put us in a locked caged (spiritual imprisonment) and has not repented to the LORD and found Jesus, as of today going forward, will be locked out of their own destinies and will die in Jesus name.

Any unrepentant enemy who pursues us relentlessly to take our lives, may their life be taken from them from today onwards.

Any witch or warlock that keeps tampering with our destinies, secretly competing with us, wanting to drive us insane, may they go mad in the name of Jesus.

Any people who secretly envies us and enjoys seeing us hurt, may calamity and strife strike them until the end of their days, in the name of Jesus.

Any person trying to make you sick, mocks your illness and physical appearance, and attacks our health in anyway may all the curses and plagues in Deuteronomy 27 and 28 come upon them NOW in Jesus name.

Anyone wishing to see our downfall and to see our finances collapse, or steals from us, may they lose EVERYTHING in Jesus name.

May we be able to move forward with forgiveness in our hearts Jesus, while justice is being served. May this happen soon in Jesus name for our enemies work tirelessly to fight against us and we know you have promised to be our sword and shield.

May we prosper so we can glorify your name.

Amen 🙏🏾

After these prayers, no one will ever stand against you and win ever again. Pray the prayer often and with passion woman of God.

Too many people are hiding their ill-intentions in their hearts yet smiling in your faces. That ends today. It may be a lonely road but it will be peaceful. May the faces of your hidden foes be shown to you. May all those who secretly conspire against you be revealed NOW and may you be spiritually strong enough to withstand the truth that will be revealed to you when the masks fall off.

A victory is coming for a Queen.

This could also be for a future Queen or someone with an initial “Q”. I was shown this.

———-

We didn’t come to play today as the children of God. This is war-fare and our sword is prayer 🗡️ we slay in the name of Jesus.

In other godly news….

Jesus came to me at a bar in a black hood. I had no idea he was watching me until he removed it and I saw his white tunic. He came up to me as I was working and gave me a small scroll 📜 the size of an atm receipt 🧾 It rolled over to me on the table and it opened up to read…

“Jesus loves us”

🥰😍 It was beautiful and I am passing on the message to his servants. He came to me in a bar for a reason because I was working tremendously hard WAITING tables and SERVING. There was no alcohol on the shelves and none on the tables interestingly. His writing was amazing 🥲 I was happy to see him but shocked at the same time. He surprised me which lets me know that it’s true, we will not know the day or the hour he returns for us, but he will. He will free us from the chains of this world and the next 🔥

Still more to share 🔜

PS. Alot of crazy supernatural things are going to happen, ladies. Mountains are moving 🌋and will crush those standing in your way forever.

You’ll know if this message is for you 👑

[theshelbyclan]

Happy Birthday!

Summary: It’s your birthday! And the Shelby brothers refuse to let another one of their baby sister’s birthday go by without some proper celebrating. 

(Gif by @benson-shelby​)  A/N: It’s actually my birthday today, but due to quarantine I can’t really celebrate it with anyone. So I decided to celebrate with the Shelby’s! Via this little fic, purely self-indulgent, to cheer myself up and to remember some great birthdays I had in the past ;) Set in season 1, you’re just a few years younger than John. Words: 1710 *** “John, get her tea.” “I thought you had the tea.” “Well, then get the milk!” urgent whispers sounded in the hallway. 

“I’m not your bloody maid, am I, Ada,” John spat not so quietly in return.

You were lying in bed, awake for hours already. This was the day you’d become a woman, or so Ada had said, but still, your siblings were bickering like little children. It brought a smile to your face. Another annoyed grumble, “Shhh, you’re going to wake her up!” “Am not,” he hissed, “I got your fucking milk, didn’t I!” “Oi!” another low voice joined in, “Ada, you really need to take a look at the toast.” “What about the toast, Arthur?” “Burned it,” he mumbled and you could hear John giggle softly in the dark. Ada sighed deeply, “For fucks sake, fine, I’ll do it. Wait here.” As the least subtle brothers in the world shuffled about in the hallway, you thought of your other birthdays. When you were little, they were celebrated with mum and everyone gathered. During the war, no one paid attention to birthdays any longer. And now, after the war, people tried to get their lives back on track. Only last week you’d made sure Finn had gotten a birthday he’d never forget. And now they tried to return the favour, obviously. Another few minutes and about a thousands curses passed, when they finally tiptoed into the room. Closing your eyes, you decided to play along. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Slowly you sat up and put on a groggy voice, “What are you doing in here?” “You are the worst actor ever, Y/N,” John grinned. “Am I?” you feigned innocence. Ada handed you a cup of tea as John plopped down onto bed next to you, “Did you hear about Arthur burning the toast then?” “I didn’t burn it,” he protested, “Only… blackened it a little.” Ada sent her eldest brother a look, “Polly’s making some more.” “Thanks for the tea,” you smiled and took a sip. Frowning, you narrowed your eyes at John. “You’re not a child anymore, Y/N!” he explained happily. “Move over,” Arthur shoved his brother aside and hugged you, “Happy birthday, sweetheart. This is for you, go on, open it.” Wrapped clumsily in some brown paper, he’d given you a revolver. And just as you were staring at it, Aunt Polly walked in with toast in a lovely shade of light brown. “A gun,” she demanded at once, “For fucks sake, Arthur.” “She needs it to protect herself, Pol,” he returned, and with pride in his voice he added, “And look: it’s a lady’s gun!” You turned the weapon over and saw it was small, delicate and laid in. Still, deadly as any weapon it was. “My turn,” John said, bouncing up and down in excitement almost. He handed Polly your tea and when she sniffed it, she said strictly, “Alright, who put whiskey in her morning tea?” No one answered. Quickly John handed you his present, hardly wrapped at all. Inside, you found a peaky cap, razorblades included. “Honestly, John…” Ada sighed, “She’s not a bloody Blinder!” “It’s all she’s ever wanted!” John called out, “Ever since she could walk, she tried to steal our caps, forever talking about wanting to join us wherever we went. Now she’s got her own!” “I love it,” you beamed up at him, “All I ever wanted.” “Alright,” Ada interrupted, “Clearly Y/N has too many brothers so it’s up to me to turn her into a lady.” “Please do,” Polly sighed, “Or the only interest she’ll ever have is weapons.” She knew her niece well, “That and gambling…” Your sister combed a few rebellious strands of hair behind your ear and planted a kiss on your cheek, “My darling little sister, soon you’ll learn you have more than one way of getting a man to do what you want.” You blinked a few times. This had always been more of Ada’s area of expertise. “She has no idea what you’re on about,” Polly smirked. “Thank God,” Arthur and John said in unison. “Sit still,” Ada demanded and she started applying the lipstick, “Sit. Still.” You furrowed your brows at the unfamiliar feeling, “Just your colour,” Ada commented happily, “As I thought.” “Not bad, that,” Arthur commented as he tilted his head. John leaned back and examined you as well, “Yeah, well, it’s red, isn’t it? I like red...” “Lipstick, a gun and razors,” Ada commented matter-of-factly, “the most deadly Shelby as of yet, Pol!” Aunt Polly rolled her eyes. “Happy birthday, Y/N!” eleven-year-old Finn came running to the room and jumped up into your arms, “You can have mine!” And he thrust his homemade catapult into your hands by form of a gift. “Another weapon, Pol,” Arthur eyed her, “Whatever will become of our innocent little sister?” Aunt Polly rubbed her nose and stammered a little, “Well, you know I don’t agree with you joining the family business… And God knows I’ve tried to rein you in just a little…” “But,” you interrupted, eyes glittering mischievously. “But…” she looked down, “I got you something for your shoes.” “Shoes?” you looked at the little black package she’d handed you. John suddenly burst out laughing in realisation, Arthur tried to hide his face in his hands and Ada commented dryly, “So, no better than us, eh, Pol.” Slowly you opened the package. Inside, you found a small black butterfly knife. *** A few hours had passed, with the regular nonsense that you cherished more than anything in the world. The family was gathered in the kitchen, everyone argued and life seemed perfect. But, one thing was missing. “Where’s Tommy?” you finally asked. “He had business,” Polly answered shortly, “No idea when he’ll be back.” You eyed John carefully, the brother you always turned to, “You think he forgot?” “Nah,” he tried cheering you up, “And you’re doing alright with us, right? Don’t need grumpy here…” You smiled, but still it hurt a little. And then, unexpectedly, Tommy waltzed into the house like it was any other day. “Y/N,” he announced himself coldly, “I need you to come with me.” “Why?” you challenged, “We’re just celebra-“ “I said now, Y/N. Family business.” Tommy interrupted in a low voice. “Thomas…” Aunt Polly started, but he held up a hand to silence her. Then he turned to you and repeated, “Come with me.” Begrudgingly, you got up and followed your brother. Looking back, Arthur motioned you to move it, which made you all the more suspicious. Without moving a muscle in his face, Tommy opened the door and said, “Go on.” You stepped outside and the second you did, applause resounded through the streets. In front of every house, people had gathered and they cheered like you were royalty. You couldn’t believe your eyes. “Tommy, did you…” you started. “He’s been at it all morning,” John explained as he crossed you in the doorway. A few moments later, the sound of hooves echoed in the streets. “What the hell is this,” you said at once. “This,” Tommy made a broad hand gesture, “Is a gypsy on a horse.” “And what, pray tell, is he doing in the middle of town?” You recognised Johnny Dogs now, who called out, “Little Y/N Shelby! Happy birthday, love!  How the hell are you!” “I’m grand, Johnny,” you said numbly, “What’s with the horse?” He got off the horse and patted her flank, “She was a lovely filly as first. Sweet, but could never quite be tamed. Third filly out of Shadow, gorgeous beast.” “So, we decided,” Tommy mumbled as he lit a cigarette slowly, “she needed a rider who’d understand.” “What? Being a gorgeous beast?” your cynical reply came. Tommy rolled his eyes, “ ‘could never be tamed’ “. “Well, go on,” Johnny urged, smiling from ear to ear, “Up you get, little one!” Gingerly, you walked over to the horse. As you stroked her nose, Tommy handed you his cigarette and said softly, “What do you think of her?” “She’s an absolute beauty.” Tommy nodded, “Just like you,” but before you could send him a thankful look, he’d walked off again. And with the whole of Small Heath watching on, you climbed up on the horse. *** It was almost midnight when you woke up on a hard cold bench. A splitting headache washed over you as you tried to lift your head. You touched your temple and noticed some blood on your knuckles. Vaguely, you remembered being in the Garrison only a few hours before. You remembered Tommy had closed the betting den and the pub being packed with people, all celebrating your birthday. Memories of card games, songs and laughs came back to you. And the whiskey, so much whiskey. Slowly, you hoisted yourself up. As you looked around, you recognised the inside of the police cell. And you felt at your laced up boots: the knife was still safe inside. A sigh of relief escaped you. “How’s the head, eh?” Recognising your brother’s voice, you looked up without meeting his eye. “What did I do?” you asked finally. After a pause, Tommy replied, “Well, you celebrated your birthday alright.” “Did I have fun?” “Yes, I’d say so.” You frowned, “Why am I in here?” He cleared his throat, “It started with the barmaid and ended with you head-butting a policeman. Quite the Shelby night…” “Is that pride I hear?” Tommy didn’t answer, so you send him your best innocent smile. Eventually he asked, “Was it worth it?” “Hell yes,” you replied in a flash. “Little devil, celebrating her fucking birthday, eh?” “Admit it!” you pointed at him, “you areproud!”

And Thomas Shelby actually smiled through the bars, “Fucking right I am.” When he started to walk away, you shouted, “Oi! What about my bail?” “Paid it!” he called from a distance. “How am I supposed to get home?” you raised your voice even more. Tommy’s reply echoed, “Take your horse. She’s outside.” Myhorse? And just as a policeman with a head in bandages opened the door of your cell, you smiled to yourself: Best birthday ever.

Tommy left the station before you were released, but before he’d gone, he finally said:  

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

***

Masterlist

[peaceisadirtyword]

Heathen VI (Ivar/Edlynn)

A/N; Hello!♥️ I’m back after a short, holiday break! And even if these next weeks are going to be chaotic, I will try to keep posting Heathen once a week as I did before! There’s only another four (five with this one) left until the end👀, so I hope you enjoy it a lot🥰 I didn’t have time to reply to your comments on last chapter but I read all of them and I’m so happy to see you’re liking it🥺 thank you so much, it means the world🙏🏻 took a bit longer to finish this one because I wasn’t too convinced but I hope you like it too♥️

Warnings: smut ( 👀), talk of feelings, my cringey writing, Ivar is the best, mentions of alcohol, violence, sex and talk about arranged marriage and religious things!

Words: 4823 (will I ever stop)

Heathen Masterlist

gif belongs to @therealcalicali​

"We could move here" Harald pointed at the map. Hvitserk followed his finger and pressed his lips together. Maybe a bit risky, he thought, but he didn't dare contradict the king because of strategical differences, that was Ivar's job "It's closer to the sea, and it would be easier to run away if the saxons decide to attack us once we don't have the saxon girl as leverage"

"It could be" he nodded, as he waited for Ivar's opinion. But as the minutes passed and his brother didn't say a word, Hvitserk raised his head to look at him. 

Ivar was sitting in front of him, with a drink on his hand, but looking away. He didn't seem to be even listening to what they were saying, and when Hvitserk's eyes followed his gaze, he understood why. 

His lips curved on a small smirk and immediately turned to look at Harald, who also seemed amused to have caught the ruthless Ivar the Boneless sneaking glances to a lady. 

Edlynn was sitting on a cut tree, not very far away from them, and her eyes were fixed on a book that Hvitserk had seen on Ivar's tent. She only had a couple of guards with her, and her wrists were untied, giving her much more freedom than Hvitserk ever thought Ivar would give her. 

"Ivar" he called his name, making him turn his head with a frown, almost like he was annoyed by his interruption "Are you listening?"

Harald held back a laugh when Ivar blinked, somewhat confused, until he spotted the map and the pieces the king had moved, and seemed to get out of his trance. His cheeks reddened softly, but he pretended not to realize as he scrutinized the map, trying to remember what had changed since Edlynn stepped out of the tent and his eyes wandered off. 

Hvitserk raised his eyebrow. He already knew what was going on, since he caught Edlynn leaving the tent with swollen lips more than once and had seen them sleeping together, with her face hidden in Ivar's neck. But at first he thought his brother was just having some fun, not falling for the saxon girl. Those glances said otherwise. 

"It would be risky" Ivar cleared his throat "I don't think Alfred would attack us once Edlynn is with him" 

Harald raised his head again. Edlynn? He didn't know when Ivar started calling the prisoner by her name, but found it amusing. 

"Then what do you propose?" Hvitserk tried to ignore it, but he would ask his brother about it "Shall we stay here?"

"I think we should move a bit closer to the boats, but not like it seems we're retiring" he shrugged "But it's your decision, king Harald"

Harald had gotten used to the mocking tone whenever Ivar said his title out loud. He didn't really care, it had started to sound like a joke to him too. 

"I will think about it tonight, and tomorrow we'll decide" 

But just when he was about to stand up, maybe too eager to go back to his tent, a guard approached them. 

Edlynn pretended not to realize he was staring. Neither of them talked about it but both of them seemed to think the same: no one should know of their... Affair? She couldn't help but blush whenever she thought about it. Well, she didn't even know if it could be considered an actual affair. There had been kisses, some more innocent than others, Ivar had touched her body in a way no one had in her entire life, she had let her hands wander down his strong arms and chest, but nothing more. It was still a sin, something she didn't want people knowing. Edlynn would be mortified if someone heard about it, about what she was doing with a... Heathen. 

But the thing that alarmed her the most weren't the kisses or the caresses, not even the fire that Ivar awakened in her, but the warmth that expanded through her chest whenever she saw him, the smiles, the little laughs, the reddened cheeks... She couldn't think about anything else that weren't his blue eyes and his pouty lips, nor could pray in peace without remembering how soft his hair was under her fingers or what a beautiful smile he had. Every night she promised she'd stop, that she wouldn't let herself fall in love with him, but sometimes, especially under the furs and between his arms, she thought there was nothing she could do now. 

It was temporal, Edlynn tried not to think about what would happen when she had to go back to her family, to Lord Edmund, the man who was supposed to be her husband. Would she ever feel the same with him? Probably not, and the thought saddened her. It was such a beautiful feeling she wished she could carry forever. 

Even if it was hard, and even if she knew many people in the camp suspected it, Edlynn tried to act like nothing had happened. They barely talked to each other in public, but she noticed he was always close to her, or at least close enough to be able to watch her. She liked that. 

Edlynn was reading, but she hadn't turned the page in what felt like hours, too focused on the glances that certain man threw her way and on hiding her blush. Until someone else approached the three men that sat down not too far away from her. She raised her head, interested, as the man seemed to carry important news. Even if she had understood their language, she wouldn't have heard anything, as the noise of the camp was too loud. But she could see the king with a big smile, celebrating something. And Ivar had frowned and his eyes were now fixed on the ground at his feet. 

When he finally looked her way again, he ignored the silent question on her eyes and looked directly at the guard that stood next to her, pointing to his own tent with his head. And Edlynn was practically dragged towards it. 

____________________________________

That night they celebrated. The reason was still a mystery to her, but Edlynn tried to ask every single person that entered the tent, from Brianna to Hvitserk, without receiving any answer. She could hear the happy screams and laughs, and figured it couldn't be bad, right?

At least not for them. 

A shiver travelled down her spine when she thought about her family, would they be alright? Had those heathens killed them?

And then Ivar came back. 

His eyes were bright and Edlynn figured he had been drinking too. His movements were slow, and let himself fall on the bed with a grunt, letting his crutch go before rubbing his face with his hands.

"Hello" Edlynn raised an eyebrow, why do men drink so much if they feel bad afterwards? 

"Hi, princess" he muttered, grunting "How was your day?" Ivar sat on the bed, sighing. It had been a long day, and it seemed it would be a long night too. 

"Clearly not as interesting as yours" 

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't turn to look at her. 

"I was trying to negotiate" he shrugged "And king Harald negotiates better when there's ale" 

"Negotiate what?" Edlynn narrowed her eyes, moving a bit closer to him. 

_____________________________________

"The saxons will agree to our terms" the messenger smiled proudly as he delivered the news "They will pay, and give us land and time to settle" he nodded "In exchange for the saxon girl" 

Harald's laugh startled Ivar, who stared at the messenger intensely.

"Of course they will!" he celebrated, nodding his head and patting Ivar's back softly "You were right, once again" 

He shot him a fake smile, which faded as soon as the king turned to Hvitserk. He thought he'd have more time, that asking for such a ridiculous amount of gold, land and a truce would be too much to give for just one girl, and that the saxons would try and change the terms. That would've given him weeks, even months. His eyes went back to where Edlynn was sitting, and silently told the guard to take her away. 

"The saxon king said they shall wait for us in the battlefield to make the exchange, and that the girl must be unharmed and well, otherwise they won't give us what we asked for" 

"Thank you, my friend" Harald patted the soldier's shoulder with a bright smile "Go, eat and rest, tonight we'll celebrate" 

Hvitserk didn't stop looking at Ivar. He noticed how he clenched his jaw and licked his lips repeatedly. He felt his own lips curving on a smile, but just slapped his head playfully. 

That night they did celebrate. Everyone sang, drank and ate next to the king, around a fire. Another victory, thanks to Ivar. But Ivar didn't seem too keen on participating on the celebrations.

"What's it, Ivar?" Hvitserk sat next to him as he saw him pour the ale on his horn for the fifth time "Aren't you happy to get rid of the saxon girl and get paid for it?" he chuckled, but his brother didn't laugh with him. 

"I just think..." Ivar clenched his jaw again "Maybe the price is too low" 

"Low?" Hvitserk raised an eyebrow "We didn't think they'd agree, it's too much, that price would fit a queen, but not a noble girl" 

"Yes but they did agree to it" he shook his head "What if... What if we ask for more?" 

"They would say no, and the negotiations would continue, we don't want that" his older brother frowned and shook his head, taking another sip from his horn "Because we don't want that, right?" 

"No" Ivar replied maybe too fast, and then scowled "It's just that I don't think we've benefited enough from holding her captive, she's obviously more important than we thought" 

"Well, dear brother, if I'm honest, I think you've benefited quite a lot from having her here" he chuckled, patting Ivar's leg softly. His brother widened his eyes at him, but managed to hide his surprise and go back to scowling.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Hvitserk" 

"Sure" he laughed, shaking his head "Sure, you don't know, but it's quite obvious, Ivar" he shot him a soft smile "I can't blame you, she's pretty, innocent... I thought you didn't like saxon girls" 

"Shut up" he rolled his eyes, but Hvitserk saw the little smile he tried to hide "I'm not trying to keep her here, I just want to make sure we get the deal that benefits us the most, that's all" 

"Fine, I believe you" this time it was Hvitserk's turn to roll his eyes "Tell Harald, then, but I don't think he will agree" 

"I was waiting for him to get drunk" Ivar shrugged, making his brother laugh. 

"Good luck then" Hvitserk winked at him before getting up "Want advice?" 

"No" 

"Don't fall in love" he ignored him "That doesn't end well" 

_________________________________

Ivar finally gave up, and went back to the tent, in need of some peace and maybe the soft touch of the woman that sat on he bed behind him. Harald didn't listen, and they kept celebrating. 

"Your king agreed to our terms" he said, finally turning his head to look at her. Edlynn wore another dress they had found for her, with her auburn hair loose, and she looked so beautiful Ivar had to blink a couple of times. He wanted to see her reaction, would she be happy? Or would she feel as weird as he had been feeling all day?

But instead she looked confused. 

"What... What does that mean?" 

"That means we'll meet them in a few days and I will let you go"

Edlynn gasped, but instead of feeling relieved and thankful, eager to see her family again, to see Mildrith, to go home... She looked into those ocean eyes and only felt a strange emptiness inside her. 

I must be insane, she thought as she crawled closer to him. Ivar's eyes didn't left her face, almost like he was waiting for her to smile, laugh and sigh in relief. 

Edlynn didn't do any of those things. 

"Aren't you happy?" he gulped. 

"I... I suppose I am" she muttered "But..." 

I know, he thought, nearly desperately. He couldn't describe it either. 

"You'll go back to your castle, you'll marry your lord, you'll be with your family and will have a church to pray to your God every time you want" 

"Yes, but..."

"Wasn't that what you wanted?" he sounded sharper than he intended. 

"I don't want that anymore" Edlynn scowled "I don't want to go back and marry, I don't want to spend my days sewing, gossiping with other women and praying"

Not so long ago, she wouldn't have even imagined she'd say those words, that was her life, a life she had enjoyed and lived happily. But now... Now she had tried other things, new things... Was it that bad to want to keep them?

"I know it's my duty" she continued, the tears threatened to fall down her cheeks, but she held them as she had been taught "And I know I will have to do it someday but I... I will miss you"

Ivar looked away, clenching his jaw again and hoping she didn't see the tears filling his eyes. The thought of entering that tent and finding it empty, without the familiar presence of the annoying saxon girl praying or reading, of spending his nights studying maps alone instead of the books in latin Edlynn would read for him, or talking about the Gods, about the adventures of Thor and Loki or the golden apples of Idunn was... Not what he wanted. 

Not even the possibility of conquering England was helping. 

He felt Edlynn getting closer, and her small hand, with her soft fingers that had never held any kind of weapon, touched his shoulder. Ivar felt dizzy, but couldn't know if it was because of the ale or because of her. 

"I will miss you too" 

The words left his lips before he could hold them back, and when he raised his head to look at her, Edlynn had the biggest smile on her lips. She almost made him smile too. 

"I... You could come and visit me someday?" she muttered, biting her lip "My friend Mildrith would love to meet you, she's obsessed" 

Ivar raised an eyebrow. 

"Do you think your father or your husband would let me visit you? You're supposed to hate me" 

Edlynn's smile faded. 

"I don't hate you" she tilted his head in an adorable way, and Ivar had to look away again "You were a bit mean at first, but you're not like they say you are... And he's not my husband" 

"Yet" he shrugged "What do they say about me?" 

Edlynn giggled, shaking her head.

"Mildrith said you're the Devil, in a human shape, that you are ruthless and... I heard you drink blood and eat human flesh" 

Ivar couldn't help but laugh. 

"I don't eat human flesh" he scowled in disgust "Do you think I could be that Devil you talk about?"

Edlynn took a deep breath, and her fingers caressed softly his cheek. 

"You could be" she said, nodding slowly "You're smart, ambitious, ruthless, but also beautiful, like a fallen angel" Edlynn blushed "You do tempt me to sin"

Ivar smirked, humming in delight. She had a lot more to say about his looks, but decided to keep it to herself to avoid feeding his ego. 

"And you would invite me, the heathen who tempts you, to your home with your father and your husband?"

Edlynn blushed again. 

"He's not my husband" she repeated.

"But you're going to marry him, princess, he will be your husband soon, unless..."

His eyes fixed on the axe he had next to the bed, and Edlynn gasped and punched his arm. 

"Don't even think about it!"

Her reaction amused Ivar, who shook his head laughing. Even if he wasn't actually joking. 

"Lord Edmund is a good man, a good christian, he will take care of me" she said quietly, almost trying to convince herself "And it will be a good thing for my family"

"From what I've seen, princess, you don't need anyone to take care of you" he sighed, leaning to undo his braces. She smiled at that, feeling that warmth fill her body again. It was a huge compliment coming from him. 

When he finished taking off the braces and removed most of his clothes Edlynn was already under the furs, her eyelids felt heavy but she forced herself to stay awake. She wanted to enjoy every moment she had left with him, knowing she wouldn't see him again. They still had some days, though, that comforted her. 

Ivar nearly moaned when he finally was able to lay on the bed. His eyes had been a bit more blue that morning, so it had been a difficult day. Edlynn watched him in silence, amazed by the perfection of his features. How could he be the Devil when he looked sculpted by God? He was too beautiful to be impure, but then again, he was a heathen. Her mind went back to his wife, and a strange pang of jealousy stroke her. What would he do if she kissed him now? 

"It's rude to stare, princess"

Ivar had an amused smirk on his lips, which only grew when he saw Edlynn's glare. 

"Remember when I said I'd miss you? Well, I take it back" 

That made him laugh. 

"Go to sleep, little one" he muttered, already closing his eyes "Maybe I can teach you some more archery before you leave, but only if you rest" 

He could hear a little gasp and imagined her excited smile, but didn't open his eyes until he felt her crawling closer to him and leaning her head on his shoulder. When he did look at her, she was already ready to sleep, with her eyes closed and breathing slowly. 

"Good night, heathen"

Ivar couldn't help but smile, too. 

"Good night, princess"

______________________________________

Ivar was cold. He stirred in his sleep looking for the source of warmth he was missing, but opened his eyes when he couldn't find it. 

The bed was empty, he frowned and pawed at the furs, confused. Where is she? 

The thought of her escaping made him more sad than angry, and he was nearly gasping when he finally spotted her. Edlynn sat on the wooden stool next to his table, studying the paintings of one of the books he had at the dim light of a nearly melted candle. 

"Sorry" she pouted, looking at him with widened eyes "I didn't mean to wake you up" 

"You didn't" he groaned, rubbing his eyes "What are you doing awake? It's the middle of the night" 

He couldn't hear anything outside the tent, only the hushed voices of some guards, and it was still dark. 

"I couldn't sleep" she shrugged. 

"Come back to bed" he nearly ordered, narrowing his eyes at her. Edlynn held back a laugh as she closed the book, leaning in to blow the candle before making her way back to the bed. Ivar watched her as she crawled under the furs and laid back, with her eyes still open. 

"It feels strange to go back and marry someone else"

Ivar frowned in the darkness of the tent. 

"What does that mean?"

"You're the first man I shared the bed with" she muttered "The first man I kissed... The first touching me. I always believed that man would be my husband" 

"I'm also the first man that made you a prisoner" he teased, and Edlynn rolled her eyes with a small smile. 

"I don't think you understand"

"Then tell me"

"I want you to be the last, too" 

Edlynn bit her own tongue after saying it, taking a deep breath as Ivar turned to look at her. She nearly regretted it, but... Why hide it? They probably wouldn't see each other again. She was just telling the truth, like a good christian.

"You don't know what you're saying" 

His answer confused her even more. 

"What?"

"I... We're on different sides, princess" he sighed, and held himself back from reaching out to caress her cheek "I am a heathen, remember?" 

"But you're good to me" she pouted, and Ivar nearly leant in to kiss her "I've seen you talk about your Gods with passion, laugh with your brother, I've seen you bonding with your men and even stroking horses... You're not the monster they talk about, at least not now... You treated me well... As well as you can treat a prisoner, I don't see how you're different from any christian man I know"

Ivar couldn't help but smile and lean his forehead against hers, his fingers tingled, desperate to touch her. He felt a faintly familiar warmth inside his chest. 

"You have to go back home, princess" he insisted "You'll forget about me and will learn to hate me again" 

"I will never hate you" she muttered, and then there was silence. Ivar nearly thought she had fallen asleep again, and kept relaxing against her body, listening to her breathing.

"Ivar" it was the first time he had heard her saying his name, and it sounded so soft with her voice... He looked at her, who had her eyes fixed on his Mjölnir necklace "Kiss me?"

It sounded more like a question than a demand. Edlynn wasn't nearly ready when she felt his strong hand around the side of her neck and his lips pressed against hers. She sighed in delight and kissed him back, grabbing his arm shyly. She had missed his kisses so much... What would she do without them? 

Ivar deepened the kiss, making Edlynn moan quietly and mover her hand to his face, cupping hit softly until her fingers touched his hair. Ivar's hand roamed down her body, settling on her waist and nearly touching her ass. Things were getting out of control, and Ivar didn't know how much he could keep things... Like that. 

Edlynn moved even closer, and now he could feel her breasts against his bare chest. Ivar sighed and smiled against her sweet lips, tightening his grip around her waist. They broke the kiss to breathe, and Edlynn smiled brightly at him before leaning in to kiss him again. 

"We can stop whenever you want" he groaned as her thigh pressed against his cock, making it twitch. 

"I don't want to stop" she replied, frowning, and he nearly laughed. 

Edlynn was serious. She had heard about it more than once, her whole life everyone assured that it was painful and not enjoyable at all for women, but everything Ivar did in that moment felt good... Why wouldn't that feel good then?

"I thought you weren't allowed to do this" he panted as Edlynn's lips landed on his jaw softly. Her kisses were shy, inexperienced, innocent... Completely different from Katia, Freydis or Margrethe, the only women he had ever kissed, but just as effective. 

"I'm not" she giggled "Should I stop?" 

"No" Ivar groaned and tightened his grip on her waist. If they stopped now, he was going to go crazy. He had tried to erase her body from his mind since he saw her in the river that day, and he had failed. 

"I want to do this" she muttered, interrupting their kisses to look at his eyes again "Because I've been told men like it, a lot" she blushed, but the darkness hid it "And I want you to remember me"

"Trust me, princess" Ivar squirmed under her, his body reacting to her closeness "I was going to remember you anyway"

When they kissed again, he tugged at the skirt of her dress, nearly moaning when he finally was able to touch her bare skin. It was soft, warm, and Ivar felt her stiffen when he caressed her leg. Her hand traced the ink lines of his chest as his lips traveled down her neck, Edlynn gasped and let out a shaky breath, biting her tongue. She was supposed to be silent, right? 

"Women can also enjoy this" he said against her skin, his fingers reached her inner thigh and Edlynn's muscles tensed under his touch "Want me to show you?" 

He smirked when she nodded shyly. Edlynn was biting her lip and looking down in curiosity, even if she couldn't see his hand approaching her sex. Ivar wasn't too sure of what he was doing, but kept reaching until he finally touched her, and Edlynn let out a strangled sound and he quickly looked at her. She had closed her eyes and her nails were digging on his skin. Ivar kept caressing her folds until he reached the place that made her jump and moan loudly. 

Edlynn quickly covered her mouth as Ivar smirked with pride and started circling his fingers as his brothers had said more than once. He would have loved to go down and kiss her properly, but didn't want to scare her so soon. 

When Ivar finally pressed two fingers to her entrance, Edlynn opened her eyes, looking both aroused and confused at the same time. 

"Relax" he whispered, reaching to kiss her softly "How does it feel?" 

She was gasping, but managed to reply with a small moan and a frown. 

"Weird" she muttered "But... Good" 

"Good" he nodded, and increased the pace, making Edlynn moan again and grab his arm "I've got you, princess" 

She was shaking between his arms as he started curling his fingers inside her, enjoying the way her walls clenched around them and the incoherent moans she let out. His hand was covered with wetness, and finally Ivar retrieved his hand, making Edlynn whimper in protest. 

But he needed both hands to tear that stupid dress apart. 

She gasped and blushed when he finally was able to throw the pieces of fabric away, to reveal her entire naked body to his eyes. Ivar growled and his lips collapsed against hers again. His hands were everywhere, touching her breasts, her belly and her ass at the same time, and soon his mouth followed them. She nearly felt overwhelmed, where she expected pain and discomfort she only got pleasure, a different kind of pleasure, and she needed more, so much more. 

Ivar finally pushed her to lay down on the bed, and moved to crawl between her legs to keep kissing her. 

"Want me to fuck you, princess?" 

Edlynn widened her eyes, but her legs tightened around his waist and Ivar put his pants down just enough to free his cock. He enjoyed the surprise on her face when she saw it, not used to women being impressed by him. 

"Look at me" he muttered, noticing how she grew nervous "Do you trust me?"

Edlynn allowed herself to get lost into his eyes again, nodding slowly and grabbing his neck as he pressed into her slowly. Ivar needed all of his willpower to keep a slow pace to avoid hurting her too much. She scrunched her nose in pain and closed her eyes. Ivar wasn't an expert, but he knew that, for women, it was painful the first time. Her little shrieks of pain brought back some not very nice memories from his own first time. 

"Hey, princess, open your eyes" he stopped moving, even if he was already shaking from feeling her tight walls around him, when Edlynn obeyed, she had tears in her eyes "Am I hurting you too much?" 

She shook her head and licked her lips. 

"Just a bit"

"I'm sorry" he kissed her temple and let out a shaky breath "I promise it gets better" 

His own eyes were fluttering and he could barely stay still. 

"Keep going" she muttered "I'll be fine"

As he started moving again, Edlynn felt the pain fading slowly. It didn't became pleasurable, like it had when he had used his hand, but it became more... Tolerable. She even felt some pleasure, and it wasn't as bad as she thought, in fact, she enjoyed the way Ivar muttered some strange words in Norse she couldn't understand, and how he moaned and sighed against her skin. It was truly a sight, to see him with his eyes closed in pleasure, enjoying her body in ways she never thought anyone would. 

When Ivar finished, he captured her lips with his again, drowning the sounds they both made as he finally stopped moving. His forehead rested against hers, and their hands were intertwined. None of them said anything at first, enjoying the feeling of being so close, and Ivar let himself hide his face in her neck, sighing. How was he going to let her go now?

___________________________________

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[broadwayandnetflix]

Request!! Okay so I love angst so hear me out on this one (bo burnham x reader). Reader uproots her whole life in NY to live with bo in LA (they met on tour & and did long distance and have been dating for many yrs or smth) and she hates it there but never says anything bc she loves him. Time comes to renew the lease and she asks him abt it and he says he already did and they argue about it and he says like ‘if ur so unhappy, then leave’ and she does and idk idk the ending but like I love ur writing and this is long and BLAH

Walking On Eggshells - Bo Burnham x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: Angst!!!!

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: guys if I was not brutal with the other one...yikes. I honestly feel as though this should be a one shot, since I just do not know how to add to it in terms of fluff? anyways, this was for @mavencalorers and I hope this was angsty enough for you love! more fluffy fics are coming. 

The Los Angeles heat, although unlike the smog of New York City, was unbearable. You felt suffocated under the sun’s constant burning rays.

Unlike New York, which had more than one season, Los Angeles seems to burn on forever. Much like a constant deja vu, if you will, you often found yourself just waiting for it to get cold again.

News flash, it’s not. No, seriously, when the fuck is it gonna get cold again?

Yet you did it all for love. All for the love of your boyfriend, Bo, of six years, Who necessarily had to be in Los Angeles for his job. Since he was a comedian.

Which you had respected for some time until you had to move to the city itself. Something about it just didn’t suit you right, and each day there made you more painfully aware of it.

Leaning your job and friends in New York was almost crippling since finding new ones in Los Angeles never seemed more complicated.

You could tell Bo knew that you were struggling, and the love and support he provided never wavered. You loved each other painfully, clearly enough for you to move across the country.

The two of you had met years prior on his comedy tour ‘what.’ It was your college graduation present actually, to go see the man perform. Your friends surprising you with tickets, and it absolutely exceeded your expectations.

Of course, once the show ended, you had moved on your merrily way, assuming that was the end of that.

You were stupidly mistaken.

The lot of you had been out a dive bar not too far from the show. When the bartender informed you that your drink had been paid for. Eyes widened until you noticed a very familiar man staring at you, well smiling at you.

Bo.

Your friends practically squawking as you had remained in literal shock at the fact that he wanted you. The comedian wanted to talk to you.

After like a few minutes of small talk, you and Bo really hit it off, like a little too fast. Despite the mutual attraction for each other, something about the two of you just clicked.

It felt right. Bo felt right. Even when your relationship became long-distance, and he moved onto his next tour. The chemistry was still as fresh as it was when it first started.

Whether via long hour FaceTime calls or by the constant texts between each other. Which would often make you laugh like an idiot at your work, causing many heads to turn your way.

You loved him so much that when he asked you to move to Los Angeles with him. You agreed instantly, not really comprehending the full implications of the agreement.

Not realizing that moving meant leaving your beloved job of five years, your family, and your apartment. But it was Bo; anywhere with Bo, you’d be happy? Right?

You hoped and prayed that your disinterest in the city would fade over time, but it never did. Everything else between you and Bo always seemed to coincide, but why not this?

Why not this of all fucking things?

Over the two years that you had spent in Los Angeles, you had desperately tried to work up the courage to tell Bo.

But what kind of asshole would you be? When the man finally seemed happy, with you, with his career. What would you even say to him?

‘Hey, I don’t like it here anymore. Let’s just move back to New York City so I can be happy, and you can struggle as a comedian in a new city!’

Who would do that? You apparently, if you ever grew a pair. You felt like a jerk who couldn’t make up their mind.

In retrospect, the house you shared was beautiful, Bo was fantastic, but everything else wasn’t. It was like the real world sucked, but inside with Bo, paradise.

Yet it wasn’t like you could do your job at home; it just wasn’t doable. And you didn’t like the person you were becoming, as if you were a ticking time bomb.

Something that was ultimately gonna explode on both you and Bo with no warning. That is until you had noticed a letter that had come in the mail one day.

It was addressed to Bo, but you recognized the sender’s information and perked up. It was that damn lease agreement that you had been getting notified about. Or it should be.

The very one that you had been tiptoeing on for about a couple months now, with Bo at least. Just wondering how and if and when you would break the ice.

Now, to be Frank, you had been desperately close to telling him at times. Always awkwardly cutting yourself short, laughing it off as Bo would stare at you with curiosity on his brow.

But now that it was physically here, maybe just maybe you’d have a shot. Just to dip your toes in the water and weasel your way into seeing what he thought about it all.

Maybe he’d see where you were coming from; you really don’t know what the outcome would be. Yet it had been years at this point; it wouldn’t hurt.

Or at least that’s what you were telling yourself.

You found him a day or two later hunched over his laptop in the living room. A serious expression upon his face broke into a wide grin upon seeing you.

“Hey baby, what are you up to?” he hums, planting his full attention onto you.

You definitely looked suspicious, and he caught on quick as he sat upright while you anxiously thought of the words to say to him.

“What’s wrong?” Bo asked.

“Oh nothing, I just wanted to talk about the-,” you cleared your throat.

“I just wanted to talk about the lease, and whether or not we should renew it.” the words were rushed but nonetheless spoken.

“Wait what, what’s wrong with the lease?” his eyes widened just a tad.

“I don’t know, I just don’t know if Los Angeles is working for me anymore.” you murmured, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Since when?” Bo scoffed as if this was some prank.

“Since forever, I don’t know. It’s just never worked for me the way it did for you.” you admitted.

You were met with silence as Bo tried to process the information at hand. The wheels spinning wildly in his mind while he anxiously ran his hands through his hair.

“And let me get this straight here,” he said after a while.

You looked up at him only to find him staring right back at you, your heart jolting a bit.

“You never thought to tell me this? I mean sweetie, you kind of gotta tell me about this kind of stuff.” Bo exclaimed, his voice laced with anything but sincerity.

“I didn’t wanna upset you, in all honesty I didn’t even know how to tell you. I mean I know we tell each other everything, but I mean this isn’t just some small conversation.” you said quietly.

“I mean I wish you did, I really wish you did.” he sighed, shaking his head.

You quirked a brow.

“Y/N, I already renewed the lease.” Bo said with a scoff.

“You what?” it was your turn to act shocked now.

“I mean- you never said anything. I just assumed everything was fine!” Bo’s voice raised just a little bit louder than usual.

He wasn’t wrong; he wasn’t. You hadn’t told him anything, really. You had just wished that he still would have told you at least; you were a couple after all.

“You still could’ve at least told me, aren’t we supposed to make these decisions together?” you mumbled.

“Of course we do, but babe. How the hell was I supposed to know? I can’t read your mind, if anything you should’ve told me sooner.” you could tell he was getting slightly aggravated.

“I mean so what do we do now?” you whispered timidly.

“What do we do? I mean what do you want? Do you even wanna live here with me?” his words bitter to the taste.

“Of course I wanna live with you, I just don’t know if I can do it here anymore.” you took a seat on the couch.

“Y/N, baby. I love you, I do. But I can’t just fucking move my job over to wherever the hell you wanna go to. It’s just not gonna work. I mean where would you even want to go?” he practically yelled.

“New York.”

Bo instantly shook his head, muttering things under his breath. While you sat on the couch trying to still your racing heart, trying to keep your incoming tears at bay.

“I can’t leave- I just can’t. But if you are so unhappy here you might as well just go. I don’t wanna live with someone’s who’s unhappy to be here.” Bo’s words cut through you like a knife.

You gasped and tried to compose yourself as he looked at you with no remorse. You knew the man, and you knew that he wasn’t fucking with you. Or at least he wasn’t right now.

“If that’s what you want-“ you cried.

“Might as well be.” he muttered.

“What about us? What’s gonna happen?” you whispered ever so softly, but he caught it.

“I just don’t see how it would work, if you can’t even live here with me.” he said before getting up and stalking off into the shared bedroom.

Leaving you alone in your thoughts and figuring out what to do with your crumbling relationship.

[stefanmikaleson1864]

By your Side

Authors Note: I was Thinking of doing a Part Two if anyone was interested in it. Also I don’t speak Italian and had to use google translate so I hope it makes sense to everyone ! 

Please don’t do this. I know you care, I know you want to help but I don't want you to get hurt. You pleaded with Andrew to not go chasing after her. I know he wanted to help that’ all he ever wanted to do was help people. 

“Devo che tu sappia questo amore mio.” he told you in Italian.

“I know you need to help people. I know that’s who you are but you could get yourself killed.” You pleaded with him. 

Your pager went off. There was a 911 in the ER. You gave one last pleased look for him not to go but he just shook his head at you. He was telling you he had to go before you both walked away. 

You wished to death that the pager hadn’t gone off. 

You wanted to tell him the truth about this secret you had been carrying with you. Maybe it would change his mind and tell him not to go and act like the damn police. 

A couple of hours had gone by and you were almost done in the ER. After that emergency another one had come and gone. Being a Nurse was so tiring. Those doctors think they do all the real work but that’s such a lie. 

Once you got a minute you went inside the breakroom and sat down and checked on your phone nothing not even a text. 

You texted him checking up on him making sure he was okay. After what felt like forever he sent a quick message he was okay and he would text you back. 

Just as soon as your break started it was over. A new emergency had come in and part of you was thankful because it would keep your mind off of things. You knew you would drive yourself over the edge just sitting there and waiting for news. 

About two hours had passed and you were finally off. Shift change coming in and taken over.

 You were about to go back and change when the ambulance brought in another trauma. You didn’t see who it was at first. 

Then Carina lifted up and you saw her worried face and you ran over and your heart dropped to your stomach and it felt like your knees had gone weak.

 You ran over to the stretcher and grabbed his hand. He looked over at you and a tear fell from his cheek. 

You wiped it away and squeezed his hand 

“Va bene amore sono qui con te il tuo non solo”  you whispered in his ear. You leaned down and kissed him on the head and squeezed back. 

You and Carina had to leave Owen and Teddy had kicked you both out. 

“Let’s go to the chapel and pray we can light a candle for him” She told you. Grabbing your hand and you two walked down together. 

“What happened to him he texted me he was fine.” you asked whispering in a puddle of tears. 

“He was following her in the train station and then we got separated and then i found him and he was laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.” She said to you crying 

You didn’t even know what to say, you just squeezed her hand and made it down to the Chapel. You both lit a candle and sat down in a moment of silence. 

“He saw me when no one else did. No one really paid that much attention to me but he did. I was always insecure about the way I looked. I’m not some skinny girl. I don’t have a flat stomach and I don't have the most attractive features like other people here. I mean it feels like we work in a tv show.  But Andrew saw me and he made me feel so pretty and beautiful and like i was someone.”

“You are beautiful Y/N in your own way you need to give yourself some credit. He never had the best judgement in women until you i can’t believe he scored you. You bring out the best in him and make him a better person and better man.” She said to you looking you up and smiling. 

“He’s such a good person with a great heart I wanted to stop him but I knew he was going to go. It was in his nature to help. Sometimes I wish he was selfish and wouldn’t. You know.” you told her. 

“I know I feel the same way I do.” She told you 

You heard someone come in and it was Teddy telling you that he was being taken up to surgery and they would update you as soon as possible. 

You both sat there and talked about stories about the happiness Andrew had brought to you. All in the back of your head you thought about your secret now wasn’t the time to have that conversation. 

Silence took over the room and it was nice and comforting. You both held each other and said everything was going to be okay because it had to be. You couldn’t lose him. 

After what felt like forever had passed Teddy and Owen both came down to tell you he was out of surgery and you both could see him. 

Each step to the room felt like it was taking forever. Like it was a tunnel that was never going to end. You told Carina that she should go and see him first. She thanked you  and went in. 

A few minutes later she came out and told you to go see him. . 

You went and looked at him and he didn’t look like himself. He was hooked up to tubes and he had one down his throat. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. You kissed the top of his head. 

You sat down and he just looked at you because that’s all he could do. 

“I love you so much and I'm so happy you're okay but I wanna kill you right now.” you told him and he smiled a little the best he could. 

“ I know right now is not the best time to tell you this but things seem so unpredictable so i’m just gonna say it. Okay ?” 

He nodded at you not breaking eye contact with you. 

“Andrew I’m Pregnant so you need to fight and keep fighting if not for you but our baby. So don’t give up okay.” you said 

Tears welling up in your eyes and his too. He had tears rolling down his face and you wiped them away with your hand. 

You kissed his hand and he squeezed it. Everything was going to be okay I mean it had to..

[celestialrry]

unrequited? (pt.2)

part 1!

1.5k

summary: Harry learns a few things, and you do too.

warnings: borderline unhealthy alcohol consumption, angsty for most, fluff 

It had been a few weeks since you told him to leave. Did you regret it? You weren’t sure to be honest. Harry needed to face up to his actions and you were the one who told him to call you when he would actually say sorry and mean it, and well, you expected a call the next day. It was stupid, and obviously he wouldn't call you that soon, right? 

What he said really hurt you and while your response was justified, you kept thinking about how you could have been a little nicer. Maybe he would’ve called sooner, maybe you wouldn't have even told him to leave, and maybe you would be happy. Because let’s be honest, you were a certified wreck. After you had shut the door behind him you poured yourself some more wine, turned on his albums and cried. So much so, you woke up the next morning because you could barely breath. 

During the first week, you thought he would call you, or at least show up, or do something. It was a full week, the longest the two of you had gone without talking and it was strange. There was no bi-weekly calls to look forward to, no texts that convinced you that maybe he did like you more than a friend, no him showing up at your door with a cheesy smile and pajama pants on. It was radio silence, even online, no one had spotted Harry, and you didn’t even know if he went back to Malibu or not. 

During the second week, you were tired of waiting and almost called him yourself to apologize for kicking him out and practically yelling at him, granted he did it first even though to you that didn't matter anymore, but you didn’t. You convinced yourself you had enough self control, and it paid off. No longer were you itching to text him when you heard his songs on the radio or after you saw a sweater you think he would really like. You were getting back into your groove and no longer moping around because he’d call you at the end of the week right?

Wrong. When you reached the third week, you still had an ounce of hope. He had to miss you, maybe not as much as you craved him, but he had to at least think of you during the day, same as you did him. Those thoughts didn't last long when you arrived at the end of the third week, and as you sat at a bar with your friends on a Saturday night, you didn't want to drink to have fun anymore, you wanted to drink because you needed to to numb the pain, if only a little bit. And it worked, because when you woke up the next morning you forgot the night before. You found yourself itching to have a glass of wine Sunday morning, because maybe it would make your headache go away. You didn't though, and instead opted for some ibuprofen and a bath. 

So here you were Wednesday of the fourth week since you stopped talking to him. Your best friend, your protector, your joy, and your love. You sulked when you went to work and you were sulking when you got back, you were sulking when you set your bag down, sulking when you went to the couch, and sulking when you heard your phone ring. 

You sighed, rummaging through your bag and grabbing it, clicking the accept button, too tired to even look at the name. You probably should have though, because when you said “Hello?” you weren’t expecting to hear your name in a voice that you recognized all too well. 

“Harry.” you swallowed, your heart starting to beat faster in your chest. 

“Y’told me to call y’when I could apologize and tell y’why I got so upset that day.” He said, a bit shakily through the phone. 

“Yeah, I did.” You trailed off, waiting for his apology. That had to be why he called, but your brain was expecting him to say “Well m’not sorry, I just wanted you to have closure, so, goodbye.” Because even when breaking off a friendship Harry would want the other person to have closure, that’s just who he is. 

But those words didn't leave his mouth, and instead you heard, “Can y’open your door?” 

You didn't respond and walked over to your front door, opening it to see him standing there with Chinese takeout boxes and chocolate, his phone held up to his ear. You had to stop your jaw from dropping and opened the door wider, hanging up your phone and stepping to the side to let him in. 

He hung up the phone as well, sticking it in his back pocket before walking in your flat, and setting everything on your kitchen counter. He turned to you as you shut the door, eyes practically glued to your figure when you made your way to the other side of the kitchen counter. 

After a few beats of silence he spoke. “M’ sorry,” He said your name firmly. “ I really mean it. I know I was n’absolute arse and yelled at you, and I shouldn't’ve done that.” 

You pursed your lips, taking this moment of silence as your place to speak. “It really hurt Harry, what you said about working, because I know you’ve had it hard, but that doesn’t mean you can compare struggles. And I still have yet to know why you yelled at me in the first place.”

He but his bottom lip and ran his hand through his hair, a nervous habit that you coincidentally picked up on. “I know, I was jus’ really upset, and that's no excuse and m’sorry, I shouldn't’ve have compared that, I know you go through things too, that wasn't fair of me.” 

Damn right it wasn’t, you thought.

“I came over because y’kept ignoring m’calls and barely answerin’ m’texts. I was concerned, and I should’ve been more vocal about that. I thought somethin’ was wrong so when I came over and y’were drinkin’ and watchin’ T.V. I got mad-”

“Just because I wasn't sitting on my couch sobbing my eyes out, doesn't mean nothing was wrong, and if you actually asked, maybe you would know.” You interrupted him. 

His mouth gaped open and he ran his hands through his hair again. “God, m’so so sorry, something was wrong n’I left you, m’so sorry,” He apologized, slipping your name in.

“M’stupid, and y’didn’t deserve any of this, but if you let me, I’d really like to make it up to you.” 

You sighed, running your hands through your hair. “I accept your apology H, but that doesn't mean everything is gonna be fine now. I’m still upset.” 

He bit his lip trying to contain the smile that was dying to break free across his face. “I know, I know. Thank you, I love you.”

You repeated it back to him and then he had asked to give you a hug to which you nodded your heads and basked in the warmth of his arms and chest that you didn't realize you missed so much. The two of you ended up on the couch talking and eating the Chinese food he brought over. 

“So what was wrong, when this all started, I mean.” He asked, taking a sip of the water you gave him. 

Uh oh.

“It was nothing.” You brushed it aside. 

“Don’t give m’that, you ignored m’because of it, so somethin’ was wrong.” He frowned at you. 

“God Harry, we were fine like two seconds ago. I told you it’s not a big deal.” You said, starting to get a little fired up.

“You can't just shut m’out again, we need to talk-”

“I’m in love with you!” You bursted out, tears falling from your watering eyes. “I thought if I ignored you then my feelings would go away but they haven’t, not even after you didn't call me for weeks.” You put your head in your hands, praying that this was all a dream. 

Harry was stunned at this point. You were in love with him? With him? He said your name, prompting you to look up, your lips formed in a pout with tear stained cheeks.

“I didn't call y’cause I thought y’wanted space. It was killing m’to ignore you, pet. If I knew you felt the same I would’ve sat outside your door for weeks.” He softly smiled at you, ring-adorned hand cupping your cheek, while his thumb wiped your under eye. 

“The same?” Was all you could ask. He felt the same way you did? He felt the same? He nodded and brought his other hand to cup your other cheek. “M’in love with you as well.” 

You immediately leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. It didn't last long, but you both pulled away, smiling at each other. 

He pecked your lips once again before sighing in contentment. “I’ve been wantin’ to do that for forever.” 

I literally started posting stories yesterday and they've gotten sm love already 😭 I wrote so many then deleted them all on another app months ago bc I just never had the guts to post until now so thank youuu <3

[wandascarrera]

(was obxlovebot) hi!! it’s literally been forever & i miss y’all sm :(. i’m gonna try to be more active even though it’s junior year and the obx fandom is kinda falling apart…i’ll still make an effort! so, here is some of my hopes for s3! <3.

- jiara happens! (or kiarah, but we all know that’s not gonna happen so 😢).

-they PROPERLY address the pogue’s trauma and don’t brush it off like it’s nothing. you can’t tell me these kids aren’t traumatized after everything they’ve been through. i love happy scenes of them as much as the next person, but it just doesn’t seem realistic for them to not have emotional baggage after the events of s1 & 2.

-kiara goes to blueridge!! maybe this is me just wanting my girl to be the star of the show, but i honestly find this plot so interesting. my only thing is them being able to juggle two plots at the same time, but i think they’ll be able to do it.

-for the other characters to be able to shine. don’t get me wrong, i completely understand that this is john b’s show for the most part, and they’ve done a better job at giving them more interesting plots in season 2, but i would love to see more of them, especially jj, kie and pope cus i love their little trio so much <33. i feel like they were paid dust in s1.

-jjsarah bonding. their dynamic in season 2 is adorable, and i really get a best friend/sibling vibe from the two of them. i feel like they could bond over their biological moms not being in their lives? also really wanna find out what happened to them, especially jj’s mom.

-the pogues finally get a win 😭. im sorry, but sometimes it’s embarrassing to watch them lose over and over again and it’s kinda getting tiring. i hope they get a win in s3, even if it’s just a small one.

-wanda maximoff joins the pogues?!?! jk, obviously that’s not happening 😕. she could end ward & rafe tho.

okay, that’s all! thank you for coming to my ted talk, and let’s hope and pray s3 comes soon even though they literally started filming like two months ago.

[silv3rswirls]

Daisy

Pairing: Park Jimin/Reader

Summary: It seemed simple enough. The two of you loved each other so you should be together, but fate keeps you apart. With one last trip with you, Jimin is determined to change things. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff at times, cheating, emotional cheating, allusions to abusive relationships, mentions of smut (no actual smut scenes), heartbreak, toxic relationships, sad ending

Word Count: 4.6k

Music recs: Even If It’s a Lie | Leave Your Lover | Cover Me in Roses | love u | How Could I Have Known

The silence between the two of you was thick as you watched Jimin from the corner of your eye. While he was humming quietly along with the music, you were sitting with a fit of dread and nerves weighing heavy on your stomach. You feel like you could vomit any moment and prayed it didn’t happen. You would rather not spill your guts in Jimin’s car, especially after he had been kind enough to plan all of this for the both of you.

You knew why you were so nervous. You just couldn’t admit your reasons to yourself, because if you did you feared your stance as a bad person would be solidified. Mingling around with guilt and dread felt better than actually facing the truth of what was happening. Jimin had given up his vacation time, planned a getaway for you, paid the expenses despite your protests, and even picked up with a pretty arrangement of flowers waiting for you. Yet, he was not your boyfriend. In fact, your boyfriend was still at home in Seoul, sitting pretty and under the impression you were on a girl’s trip, not sitting up with one of your best-kept secrets.

You had never meant for Jimin to become a secret, you had never even intended to befriend him, but fate had wiggled the idol into your life with force. Maybe life had intended you to break up with your boyfriend when it brought Jimin along, but obviously, that didn’t pan out well. Jimin and you had remained strict friends for a while, talking on and off, hanging out now and again when he had time. He knew you had a boyfriend and you knew he didn’t have time for a relationship, so it should have been so easy. Yet, one night through the pain of fighting with your boyfriend and a haze of alcohol, you had crossed the line with Jimin. 

Since that night you harbored strong, overpowering guilt for what happened, yet you found yourself unable to step away from Jimin. Jimin knew he was the other man, but he never seemed to mind. Never said anything, never threw a fit, and sure he got jealous from time to time, he seemed okay with it. After that night you and Jimin never took things to a sexual level again, in fact, you hardly even kissed one another. Most nights you would simply curl up in each other’s arms, talking through sleepiness and stress. Jimin seemed relaxed when he was with you, at peace. While you felt the warmth of his love and attention rather than the bored stares of your boyfriend. 

It wasn’t that your boyfriend was bad. He wasn’t, he was good- he was okay. You told yourself you loved him, forgave him for every argument and snide comment he made towards you. Jimin didn’t feel the same about him. He found the man rude and uncaring towards you, thought he was mean and didn’t deserve you. He knew first hand of it. Some nights you would come to him in tears, crying your heart out over how he treated you, or over the argument’s where he just yelled and yelled at you. How you felt so unloved and gross because of him and what he would say. It broke Jimin’s heart when your nights were spent like that. He would wrap you in his arms delicately with soothing whispers of how pretty you were and how much he loved you, that your boyfriend didn’t matter.

One night, after an especially emotional moment you had laid there with him, looking outside at the night sky and watching the blur of lights glow in the dark. Jimin, at your side as always, comforting you with soft nuzzles and caresses, brought up the idea of going somewhere together to get away. He was going to be on a short break before returning to prepare for their newest tour. He would be gone for a long time and he wanted to spend the weekend with you.

That’s why you found yourself here with him, stomach full of butterflies and nerves as you retreat into a more rural area, staying in a lake house with all the privacy you could want, as well as all the peace and fun the both of you needed. 

“Y/n, are you alright? You haven’t said much since I picked you up.”

You fiddled with the flowers laying in your lap, the crinkle of paper replying to him as you tried to muster up your words. “I’m just nervous Jimin.” You whispered, “what if he finds out I’m not with my friends?”

Jimin’s lips pursed as you mentioned your concern. “He won’t Y/n, and if he does, I’ll make sure he leaves you alone.”

“But-”

“Try to forget about him, this is our weekend, right?” You nodded, resorting to looking down at the bundle of daisies in your lap. “Do you like them? They’re cute, just like you.”

“Thank you” you breathed, “I feel bad. I didn’t get you anything.” 

Jimin smiled, “you don’t have to get me anything, I’m just happy you’re here.”

The rest of your drive you felt a little better, but the guilt of running away with Jimin still sat in the back of your mind. 

When you arrived at the house you were met with a quiet, homey-looking place. Nature buzzing all around you, the sun reflecting off the lake and you even spotted a family of ducks waddling along the shoreline. You go out with your flowers and purse in hand, while Jimin goes to the trunk to pull both your bags out. “Here, you go in and look around while I get our bags” Jimin handed the key off to you before going back to what he was doing. You grabbed his phone from the front seat for him before wandering up to the front door, unlocking it, and stepping in. you slipped your shoes off and left your things on the entree way table, keeping your flowers in hand as you walked right into the living room, finding it open and connected to the kitchen. Simple furniture and decoration took up your view, large windows with their curtains drawn open, pretty art and decor- it looked modern but woodsy. It looked expensive.

“How much was it?” You wondered aloud as you heard Jimin setting some of the groceries you had brought on the counter.

“Don’t worry about that Y/n.”

“I could’ve helped pay as well Jimin.” You frowned, guilt clear on your face. “It isn’t fair since I’m staying too.”

“I wanted to pay, it’s no problem.” He assured you with a sweet smile. “Besides, he would’ve questioned where all that money went, right?”

“Oh…” Your shoulders dropped. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Jimin came up to you, clasping one of your hands in his. “I like taking care of you, so please don’t worry about it and have a good time with me, please?”

You put away the food while Jimin finished bringing your things in, setting them away in the bedroom and joining you as you finished up. It was a bit stuffy in the cabin, so you worked to open some of the windows, enjoying the soft breeze coming in. You found a vase to put your daisies in, not wanting the little flowers to die on you while here. Jimin spent his time unpacking just a little, pulling the essentials out and searching for his camera. Eagerly he came out to find you on the back porch, looking around the stretch of grass that led to the lakeside. You were leaning over the railing squinting through the sunlight as Jimin snuck up to capture a photo. You looked over, a bit caught off guard.

“I want to capture all our memories while here,” he explained with a smile. “Should we make dinner? It’s getting late now.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. It’ll be dark soon, so we can set up the bonfire too.”

You and Jimin opted to just make some Ramyeon since you were both feeling tired from the long drive here. Tomorrow you would make something especially good. You worked on cooking it, while Jimin worked on lighting the fire as the sun began to set. Once the food was done and you moved outside, sitting beside Jimin and watching the fire crackle as you ate and talked. 

“You’ll be gone for a long time.” You mentioned, now leaning into his shoulder as you both finished eating and took to relaxing in the cool night air. 

“Unfortunately” he frowned. “I’m happy to go back on tour, but it’s kind of sad I won’t see you for so long.”

“We’ll keep in touch the best we can” you assured him. You were nervous for Jimin to leave. Lately, it felt like he was your rock. Your boyfriend had been especially nasty the last few months and Jimin was always there to pick you up. You were worried about what could happen while he was gone.

“Maybe one day I can fly you out to see our show.” He thought aloud, “maybe even stay a night or two.”

“I’d like that” you smiled, ignoring the voice in the back of your head telling you it was impossible, that your boyfriend would never let you go. You felt Jimin move around, taking your waist in his arms as he pulled you closer into his chest to cuddle that way. You relaxed easily in his embrace, sighing in content. Your feelings of uncertainty had lessened since actually arriving here, spending the one-on-one time with Jimin without distraction helped. 

But your peace couldn’t last forever as your phone rang and you jumped up to answer it. Jimin tried to keep a tight grip on your waist, not wanting to lose his cuddle buddy as you broke away and answered. “Hey, yeah we got here a few hours ago.” Jimin turned his nose bitterly, you were talking to him. “Yeah, it’s just us girls, no guys in sight” you tried to laugh, but the anxiousness in your voice left it feeling awkward. “We’re just eating now...mhm. I’ll call you tomorrow morning.” Jimin sat up, hanging on for the moment you would hang up so he could get back to you with his affection, but he felt himself fall as you said, “I love you too.”

The phone call ended and Jimin was left staring at you with tight lips. You set your phone down and look at him, gnawing on your cheek nervously. “Do you mean it when you tell him you love him?” He asks quietly.

“He loves me…”

“That's not what I asked.” Jimin huffed, “he doesn’t love you.”

“He does-”

“Not the way I love you.” Jimin declared, “He wouldn’t belittle you if he loved you, he’d be kind and gentle, he’d treat you like the most important person in the world- like I do.”

“He means it when he says it.” You lie to yourself.

When it’s time to go to bed you help clean up while Jimin takes care of the fire. Your chest feels heavy as you do so because Jimin remains silent for the most part. 

Jimin wanted to sleep with you, curled at your side, but you tell him to wait until tomorrow night. He looks like a hurt puppy as you tell him, but he respects your wish and heads for the bedroom upstairs. You lay in bed that night, unable to sleep with the thoughts running through your head.

You woke up the next morning determined to put the discomfort of last night behind you, not wanting to spoil the next two days you had with Jimin. You hopped out of bed, took a quick shower, and threw something light and casual on. The living room and kitchen were empty as you stepped out of your room, smiling at the rays of morning sunshine casting in through the windows. With the house deathly silent, you assumed Jimin was still in bed, which you didn’t mind. It gave you time to think about what you would do together today. Jimin had already blocked off some of your time to go exploring around the area, walk along the water and take in the quiet scenery. You were excited about that as well, but you had a whole day ahead of you. Tomorrow you would stay the day as well, leaving later in the evening to get home during the night. Today was your only full day and you wanted every moment spent with Jimin to count. 

So you made up some breakfast for the two of you, planning to pull Jimin out of bed when you were finished. You set the table up and pulled the vase of daisies over for decoration. Smiling to yourself you headed upstairs, knocking on Jimin’s door a few times before peeking in. “Jimin?” You called from the doorway, stepping into the dark room and moving to peel the curtains open. “Jimin, you should get up, I made us breakfast.” You called sweetly, gently tapping him a few times. Jimin merely hummed and rolled over as he struggled to open his eyes fully.

“Y/n?” He asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“Yup, it’s me” you laughed, “come on, you don’t want to waste the day sleeping, do you?” Jimin’s breath caught in his throat as he felt you pat his head and pushing his hair away from his face. His gaze though still tired, fell on you and his heart skipped a beat as his brain reminded him of the trip he was on with you. Waking up to your sweet voice and comforting touch sent butterflies down his spine and he couldn’t help but smile. 

Jimin got up and took a few minutes to get ready. He awed dramatically at the breakfast you had made, thanking you as he dug in. you ate as well, your mood souring when you remembered you hadn’t called your boyfriend as he told you. Your leg bounced with anxiety as you thought about running to get your phone, but the sound of Jimin’s little giggles and small talk kept you in place. 

By the time you and Jimin were ready to clean up and start the day, you had forgotten all about your phone and your boyfriend.

At first, you and Jimin lazied around a bit. Playing a few games and talking until Jimin finally grew impatient and pulled you to go for a walk. He held your hand as you followed one of the trails, watching the trees tremble as a warm breeze blew in. It was past noon, still sunny out and as quiet as usual; the only noise being the soft rustle of nature and twigs crunching under your shoes. It was pretty out, peaceful compared to the city. You wished you could have this kind of escape more often. 

Jimin leads the way through the forest trail, eventually leading you out and towards the lakeside. The sand is soft under your shoes as you look for things in the sand together. As promised Jimin had brought his camera, wasting no time snapping all the photo opportunities he saw. You walked the shoreline hand in hand, watching the water lull back and forth as the sun’s reflection twinkled through it. Birds chipped and sang and ducks swam along without a care. For the first time since arriving you felt like you truly didn’t have a care in the world. It was just you and Jimin here, enjoying the beautiful world hand and hand. 

You weren’t sure how long you were out there, it must’ve been hours as you watched the sun begin to set and a trail of pretty pastels painted the sky. The two of you were sitting on one of the docks, your arm wrapped around Jimin’s as you leaned against one another. 

“Y/n,” Jimin asked, voice quiet as he tore his eyes away from the sunset. You hummed in response, picking your head up to look at him. “You know that I love you right?”

“Of course.” You smiled, “I love you.” Jimin gave a nod, his eyebrows knit together as he seemed to be thinking deeply. “Is something wrong?”

“I wanna kiss you” he stated, thought a bit apprehensively. You hadn’t shared a kiss in so long, not since that night you crossed the line for the first time. Jimin had learned to be okay with it but being here with you, alone without the constant buzz of idol life and the fear your boyfriend installed in you, Jimin felt the need to kiss you. He loved you unashamed, and he wanted you to love him the same way.

He expected you to turn away with rejection, too scared to cross the line even just a little, but you surprised him. You leaned in to press your lips to his, leaving him with a sweet, quick kiss. Jimin was quiet, his eyes searching yours for felt like a lifetime before his hand cupped the side of your face. You leaned into his warm touch and he guided you back to his lips for a kiss brimmed with love and passion, adoration almost radiating from him. When you parted again you let him wrap his arms around you, your cheek pressing into his chest as he held you. With butterflies in both of your stomachs, you headed back as the night grew closer, hand in hand in comfortable silence.

That night Jimin stayed with you. Tucked warmly under the covers with his arm holding you tight as if he was afraid you would leave. You talked a little, less than usual but you didn’t mind. You were comfortable being with him. At some point, you shared more kisses, soft ones that eventually turned to needy, passion-filled ones. Hands wandered apprehensively on the other, ready to jump away if one of you objected and Jimin expected you to; but you didn’t. You flushed under his light touches and gentle gaze. His hands caressed you with care and for the first time in what felt like months, you felt loved. You couldn’t recall the last time your boyfriend had treated you with such care and love. Jimin was paying attention to you, kissing you like he meant it. It wasn’t selfish and cold, it wasn’t empty. You didn’t feel used, you felt good. Beautiful and cared for, loved as Jimin’s body pressed flush with yours. And when it was over he didn’t leave you, he pressed gentle kisses to your body and held you through the night.

The next morning felt like a dream when you woke in his hold. His face nuzzled into your neck and his arms warm and protective around your waist. You smiled, relaxing for a few more minutes before trying to wiggle free. Jimin hummed, pulling you closer. “Jimin” you muttered, “I wanna shower.”

Jimin huffed, pulling you down to place a quick kiss on your shoulder before letting you free. You disappeared, leaving Jimin to roll over and try to get comfortable again, only to be woken back up when the phone on the bedside table rang. Assuming it was one of the guys or maybe his manager calling to check in on him he blindly reached for the phone, answering with a lazy hello. The line was silent for a moment before a man’s voice asked where you were.

Jimin, still under the haze of sleep answered. “She’s in the shower.”

He didn’t catch on that it hadn’t been his phone he answered until the line hung up and he dropped it to lay back down. His mind nagged him, none of the members knew about you, let alone your name, so who had asked for you? In fact, whose voice had that even been?

Jimin realizes his mistakes when the text starts to roll in, your boyfriend sends message after message. Asking who the guy was and why he had your phone, asking where you were, telling you to come home, calling you names as he accused you of cheating on him, threatening you if you didn’t answer him. Jimin’s face grew hot as he skimmed them, but guilt immediately took over his emotions as he thought about what he would tell you. 

“Y/n I’m sorry.”

You had just stepped into the room, dressed and in the process of finding your hairbrush. “About last night?” You asked, worry heavy in your voice. Did he regret it?

“No- no I loved last night” he blushed, “but...your boyfriend- he called and I answered.”

His blood ran cold at the look on your face. An expression of pure panic-struck you. “What do you mean you answered? Why would you-”

“It was an accident, I thought it was my phone.”

“Oh my god” you breathed, “he knows, he has to know.” Jimin scurried out of bed, coming to your aid as tears began to flush your face. “Jimin- Jimin how could you, he’s going to kill me.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jimin repeated, panic in his voice as well.

“No, it’s not!” You shouted, “you don’t understand-”

“It will be okay! I’ll make sure, he won’t hurt you- he won’t come near you!”

“Jimin-”

“You’ll come home with me instead, you can stay with me. He won’t find you, I won’t let him.”

“N-no, I can’t. He’ll just be angrier- things will be worse. I have to go home, apologize- make it better” your mind worked frantically, unable to keep to a straight line of thought.

“You can’t Y/n! He doesn’t love you, I do! I’ll make sure he doesn’t-”

“Please, I can’t Jimin. I can’t hear this right now.”

“But-”

“Please, I need to leave.” Your voice cracked as you searched for your phone, the tears finally falling. Jimin paused, his heart constricted as he watched you fall apart before him. “I’m sorry...just...please.” Jimin didn’t answer, instead of pulling you into his embrace with glossy eyes. You sobbed into his shoulder, while he quietly shed his own tears. He didn’t want to leave, he wanted to stay here with you where he could have you to himself, where you were safe and happy.

But he knew he couldn’t.

When you finally settled down you both packed in silence. Almost robotically you collected your clothes and belongings alongside Jimin. The text and calls from your boyfriend never stopped, but you tried to ignore them. You just wanted to go home.

The drive was deathly silent. Sometimes tears would streak down one of your faces or Jimin would whisper that he was sorry and he loved you. You sat, head aching and fear eating your alive as the city grew closer and closer. Your flowers were in your lap, the daisies still in pretty bloom as they swayed, trapped in the vase. 

When the car stopped outside of your place, Jimin struggled to let you out of the car. He watched, worry sick in his eyes as you took your bag and rounded the car to his side. You stood, unsure of what to say as you clutched the flowers tightly. The time you spent with him, despite being cut short, had been amazing. The best of your life, should you tell him that?

“Y/n” Jimin whispered, “please, don’t leave me.” 

“I won’t.”

Jimin’s lip trembled because he felt like that was a lie.

“I love you, things will be okay” you tried to smile, but your eyes were brimming with tears. 

“Can I kiss you? One more time?” 

“I’m sorry.”

You weren’t exactly sure what you were sorry for. For leaving early? For not kissing him or because you hadn’t been able to go home with him? Were you sorry for ever meeting Jimin, pulling him into something so ugly?

Were you sorry because you loved him?

Jimin didn’t hear from you again. He waited for your message, assuming you would take a few days or maybe weeks to let things calm down before coming to him, but you never did. He tried texting, but couldn’t get an answer. He tried to forget it as the tour approached and he prepared to leave with the rest of Bangtan, who had no clue what had been happening with him the past year or so. They picked up on his changed behavior though. He seemed different, sad even. Despite asking what was wrong, Jimin never gave them an answer. The weeks past and Jimin worked to pull himself together as the date to leave came closer and closer, but still, he couldn’t completely erase the memory of you.

He loved you so much still. He worried for you, contemplated going to your place just to make sure you were alright, but he knew better. At night, curled under his covers and missing your embrace he thought of what could have been with you. How things would be if you had met under different circumstances, or if you had been able to leave that horrid man. He thinks about your smile and it makes him smile, he looks back on the photos taken that weekend often, a warm feeling in his chest as he thinks about holding you, kissing you, just being able to love you. 

He takes to keeping a small vase of daisies in his room, something to brighten the place up. Something to remind him of you.

The morning they were set to head to the airport, Jimin finished double-checking his bags, Taehyung, long done with his packing, sat with him on the bed musing about the part excitement and part dread he felt for this tour. Jimin hummed along mindlessly.

“Oh? When did you get that tattoo?”

“Hm?” Jimin looks up before checking his forearm. “Oh, that.”

“Yeah, what is it? A daisy?” Taehyung squinted, trying to get a better look at the small piece of art. “Why a daisy?”

Jimin shrugged, “makes me happy when I see it.”

A year passes and Jimin learns to forget you, or he tries to. Some days he can’t stop thinking about it, while others he goes on as usual. But he still loves you deep down. 

Jimin hummed as he scrolled through his phone, waiting beside Hoseok for their coffee order to be called, trying to block out the chatter of the people around him. But a familiar voice hits his ear and causes his face to twist in confusion. He looks around, eyes scanning the place before landing on a small table pressed against the window. His throat runs dry at the sight of you sitting alone, patiently waiting. His heart thumps fast and he almost begins to make his way to you when he notices the man coming to join you with two cups of coffee. His breath hitches, so your boyfriend was still with you?

Call him selfish, but Jimin had hoped way back when that they had left you after the cheating was revealed. He imagined that they had left you to come running into his arms instead.

You don’t look very happy not like you were when with him.

Jimin thinks about going up to you but knows he shouldn’t and he feels the urge to cry. 

You were still so pretty in his eyes, despite how sad and worn down you appeared to be.

“Jimin?” Hoseok calls him, snapping the younger out of his thoughts as he rests a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Hoseok’s face was twisted in confusion and concern due to the stray tears that had fallen down his friend’s cheek.

Quickly Jimin wiped them away and turned away from you. “I’m fine” he musters a smile, “just getting in my head I guess.” He mutters, trying to keep himself from sparing one last glance at you as he and Hoseok get their drinks.

It hurt, but Jimin left the small café, not looking back at you once despite the yearning pain in his heart.

[milks-writings]

The shadow that laid over his body made his eyes wander up the figure that stood in front of him, seeing you with an umbrella in your hand. His eyes adjusted to the new scenery, before only letting out a soft chuckle. “And who are you?” His voice was a little raspy, probably because Solomon had been soaked wet with the pouring cold rain that hadn't stopped yet. “Do you need an umbrella?” You asked back, without answering his question he had longed you to answer. When you mustered his figure up and down, only to see how a few water drops were falling onto the concrete and leaving slightly darker grey spots there. The oh-so-great King had been sitting on a bench that was placed under a small bus stop house, to give the people that waited for the bus the opportunity to sit down while waiting. “Oh it-” Before his sentence got finished, you quickly cut him off, knowing exactly that Solomon would say something between the lines like ‘It’s all fine I don’t want to make you any troubles’ or ‘It’s okay don’t worry about me’. “Don’t worry about it. You are all wet and the rain probably won’t stop until tomorrow” You assured him. The sorcerer had no other option but to just silently agree with you, getting up and leaving a small puddle on the spot where he sat. “Where do you live?” Of course, you’d ask that, and he already prepared mentally for that question. “In the south… you know the grocery store next to the kindergarten?” “Oh yeah… understood” Your hand automatically reached a little up to hold the umbrella over you two, since the male seemed to be taller than you had planned. But instead of adjusting to his height, the white-haired male already took the umbrella from you, holding it over your heads to protect you from the falling rain. “Thanks” Solomon probably saw how you had been struggling with the umbrella, so he decided to at least do you the small favor of helping you. “So, what are you doing here… in a school uniform?” The immortal asked quite confused, leaving you speechless for a second. “Oh… today was my graduation… You know, end of the school year” “And now you are walking alone home?” his head tilted to the side, making you nod slowly with scrunched-down eyebrows. “What about your parents?” curiosity got ahead of him, letting him talk more than he ever wanted to. “They are working.” “What about taking a day off once?” “I don’t know, they don’t seem very interested, but I don’t really mind you know. I kinda wanted to get some alcohol later in the store…” “Aren’t you 18?!” “Yeah so? Just some sweet words and I will easily get one bottle or two of beer” To say the least, Solomon was invested into your personality. He craved for more of your words, the way you talked and the way your words just slipped over your lips amazed him more and more with each second, making him thirsty for things he can’t have forever. Because forever was until he dies, but he is immortal. But your forever was until you die, but you are not immortal. “Are your parents home?” The sorcerer asked, leaving a confused face on you. “No, not yet bu-” “I know we just met but… Maybe you want to go to the grocery store with me?” His heart fluttered for a moment, and the pale skin turned into a sweet pink, leaving a blush over his cheeks. “If you pay, sure”

He shouldn’t have paid.

Once again, there was pouring summer rain. His head was still full of thoughts about you, even after two years, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Solomon knew that this was not good for him, to hurt himself by falling in love, watching his beloved one dying, and being alone again. For his whole life, and his life was loner than an eternity. But seeing you crying on a bench, getting all soaked wet like he was two years ago, his legs just had to move before he could think of it. The sorcerer’s hand stretched out, letting the umbrella cover you and catch the raindrops. Your eyes darted immediately up, and just as fast your hands reached out to wipe the salty tears away. “Solomon?” The small voice crack made the king smile, nodding slowly. “Are you okay?” “Can we go to the store and get some ice cream?” Just like back then, you blacked out his question, but he didn’t question. Solomon’s heart followed the sweet sound of your voice like it mesmerized his mind, forgetting about every responsibility he carried within his whole life. The nostalgia hit him harder each time you two would share the umbrella, leaving his mouth empty and his stomach filled with lots of butterflies. “Don’t you think it’s funny how we always share one umbrella?” he awkwardly asked, trying to break the silence. “An umbrella for two” You shortly answered, but enough to make not only him but also yourself smile. “So, what are you doing now after your graduation?” “I applied to some universities… Life is really short so if I won’t get accepted by any of them I will just go somewhere else.” Some people are praying for longer lives, some for better lives, but all Solomon does is begging on his knees, just to get mortal again. To lift the curse, to break all strings, and be satisfied with his life. “What are you doing for a living, Solo?” His heart tugged at the shortcut of his name. If you would have been someone else, he would’ve complained, but for now, he would just let himself enjoy the serotonin boost. “Not much… I sometimes help here and there out, I live alone and already have a house without a rent, only need some food and pay the taxes… so that’s enough” He explained whole heartedly. “Also” instead of letting you slip something between his words, Solomon tried to add a few more words. “Nothing is forever. Everything is temporary. Even pain you might feel, the happiness you might feel, anger or whatever. Nothing lasts forever. Not even life.” His words were probably there to comfort you from your crying, though they rather left you confused. “You are quite mysterious.” You replied, managing to catch his heart that was about to drop with a smile and chuckle “Though that’s interesting.”

You did age in the last two years, got less childish and more of an adult.

But why does he never age?

Seeing you at RAD was more than a surprise to the poor boy’s heart. Just a few weeks ago you two had ice cream at the store after catching you crying, and now you two got destined into the exchange student program.

Nothing bad happened, not after one week, one month, three months. Actually, quite some good things happened, perhaps life was giving Solomon some signs of happiness, of forgiveness to let you stay at his side as his significant other.

“Solomon.” Your voice was sharper than any knife that got stabbed into his chest, and his gaze just looked unwillingly at you. “What do they mean, that you are immortal?” Solomon expected to see the horror in your eyes, disappointment, sadness, but instead of this all, he saw nothing at all. Just dead eyes without any meaning behind them. “Who told you that?” He tried to avoid the question, but you were smarter than that. “Just answer me. When you said that we could grow old together, did you mean me and me only?” the shaky voice of yours echoed through RAD’s hallway, catching everyone’s attention around you two. “Hey, let’s talk about it in private, shall--” “no!” Seeing you raise your voice at him made him flinch for a second. “What do you mean we can’t lie six feet under the dirt next to each other? If we get kids, you will live longer than them? In 200 years will I be meaningless to you? Will you forget me in 1000 years?” Finally, the façade broke down, tears streaming down your face, with no beginning or end. “Y/N…” Solomon tried to cheer you up, hoping not to catch everyone's attention. “Answer me: Do you remember who was your partner 600 years ago?” Your voice yearned for hope, only to get it crushed down by one word. “No…” The great King answered ashamed, suddenly being not so great and wise to you. “Why should I be even together with someone who I am meaningless to?” “Listen please-” He tried to calm you down while you yanked his hand away that reached out for you. “You told me no one lives forever… So why do you?”

Yes, why does he? Why does Solomon go through all the pain in his life? Why does he not just try to find a spell against immortality?

“Do you think I want to live that long?”

“Huh?”

“I really wish I never met you, Y/N. In the end, I am suffering more, aren’t I?” A scoff left your mouth since no words were left in it. “Okay fine, then let’s just break up.”

“Yeah, fine.”

If he hadn’t simply agreed that day, Solomon might’ve been the one next to you, even after four years, ten years, or even 50 years.

His heart just ached thinking about you, and all the colorful memories with you were suddenly painted all grey and black, only leaving pain in his heart and filling his mind with nothing but agony. Weren’t you made for each other? Wasn’t he enough?

Was it because he was immortal?

No matter what it had been, the umbrella was for two, just not for you two.

It was an umbrella for two, like you said, though for you and someone else than him.

The umbrella he had was for only for himself.

«𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞»

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, vincenzo and cha-young are exes, they were in a relationship before, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, Exes, Getting Back Together, Not Canon Compliant, i wrote this before ep 20

Summary: Sipping on his third — or fourth, he’d stopped counting a while back  — whiskey of the night, Vincenzo fantasised about snapping the neck Cha-young’s fingers were delicately wrapped around. 

To Vincenzo, regret was like an old friend. He’d become accustomed to its familiar weight over the years, learnt its intricate shapes and colours. More than that, he’d learned to welcome the intimate ways in which regret accompanied his every step. 

The blood on his hands, his mother, her… Yes, it seemed regret was the recurring theme of his life. Alas, in spite of all the years he’d spent acquainted with it, he could not silence the wails of anguish of his heart. 

“Mmh.” A simple sound had sufficed to sink his soul to slumber.*

He’d always known this was a possibility. He’d thought about it endlessly, convincing himself that he wouldn’t care, that being in her life was enough. But Vincenzo was a greedy man, and he’d never desired anything more than he desired her.

Her. Cha-young. His Tesoro. 

Rarely did Vincenzo say or even think of her name when his mind wandered back to her. He treated it like a jewel, a precious gem meant to be tucked away in the corner of his soul, only to be let out under extraordinary circumstances. 

Her name on his lips would not be said in vain, for he was a pious man and her, a Goddess. He’d converted to her cult the moment she’d kissed him, her lips initiating him to her worship. 

And so, he prayed to her. When he’d reached the edge of the cliff, the troubled waters calling out to him, whispering in his ear that drowning would put out the fire that consumed his being, he prayed. 

He’d go to a small Catholic church in Milan, high ceilings and stained-glass windows glimmering in the evening sun, and he’d sit in the last row, his hands clapped together. He’d recite his prayers, confess his sins and plead. I love you. Forgive me. Wait for me.

The Goddess, however, was a capricious being, and it seemed she had not heard his pleas. Or maybe she had, but had deemed him unworthy. 

Vincenzo had wondered if she had found someone else, if she had been happy without him. Wasn’t human nature so contradictory? He had been sure that leaving her was the most selfless act of love he’d be capable of, yet that ‘Mmh’ had set his soul on fire. 

He had promised himself that if it were to happen — if Cha-young had forgotten about him, if leaving really had been the gift he’d first thought it was — , he would be content with just seeing her again. Even if all he’d get was a furtive look, that alone would be enough to satisfy the thirst he’d been dying of for the past five years. What a naïve thought. He knew the moment he’d seen her again, that night on the beach. He needed her. 

Now, watching her slow dance in someone else’s arms, Vincenzo thought about torture. He’d inflicted it on many of his enemies before and knew the myriad of ways in which the human body contorted itself when in agony. 

Vincenzo reaches for the gold lighter in his pocket, the reassuring clicking sound helping him organise his thoughts. 

He would start by pulling out his teeth one by one. Then, he’d move on to his fingers. It’d make a mess, but he wouldn’t die right away. Vincenzo would be able to enjoy the fun for quite a while, actually. Would the man scream until his vocal cords bled? Would he convulse, his body distorted by tremors, eyes rolling back?

Sadly, the only one getting tortured is him; the only cries of pain, his heart’s. 

Sipping on his third — or fourth, he’d stopped counting a while back  — whiskey of the night, Vincenzo fantasised about snapping the neck Cha-young’s fingers were delicately wrapped around. 

 Like moths to a flame, Vincenzo’s eyes were inevitably drawn to the pearly white of her thigh, revealed by the split of her long, form-fitting dress. She looked otherworldly tonight, her hips swaying to the slow beat of the love song playing in the background. Here she was, with her straight, shiny hair reflecting the dim lights of the ballroom, her red lips complimenting her flushed cheeks  — a fallen angel gracing them with her presence. 

The man holding her in his arms was in his late thirties, and while he was the same height as Cha-young with her heels on, he had broad shoulders and large hands. He looked down at his feet whenever he laughed, which made his glasses slide off his nose ever so slightly. After a while, he’d readjust them and run his hand through his short hair, the start of an endless loop.

He wondered what she saw in him, if it was something in his eyes or in his voice. Did she kiss his knuckles whenever he was working on some paperwork, lost in thoughts yet reluctant to let go of her hand? Did she kiss his neck and whispered ‘I'm here, it’s okay’ whenever he had a nightmare? Did her fingers trace ‘I love you’s’ on his shoulder blades while they were laying in bed? 

And if she did, was it because he looked at her like she was the most precious thing on this earth? Was it because he had secretly learned her favourite recipe, the one her mom used to make when she was sick? Was it because he held her tight when she cried, stroking her hair and murmuring comforting words against her skin? 

He looks harmless, Vincenzo thinks. The alcohol is getting to him.

‘Is he a good person?’

‘Mmh. He is.’

He shakes his head, banishing memories of yesterday’s conversation from his mind. That’s a relief. Cha-young deserves to be with an ordinary man who lives a righteous life, away from all the murders and the evils of this world. Yet, his heart aches every time she smiles at him. 

Him, who is everything he’s not. Him, who’s making her laugh, and smile, and blush. 

The man leans in to whisper in her ear, and Vincenzo can’t take it anymore. He pays for his drinks and leaves, the sound of his lighter not enough to ground him anymore. He needs to get away, far from the sway of her hips and that man’s hand on her lower back. Before he knows it, he’s out of the hotel, on the beach. 

Stuck in his own personal hell, Vincenzo considers atoning for his sins. Surely, the fire blazing inside his body, boiling his blood and heating up his skin is worse than the Inferno he’d ineluctably be condemned to. 

Without thinking, he takes off his shoes, his trousers and his shirt, and dives into the ocean. He needed to put out the fire before he got burned alive. It’s a warm evening but the dark waters feel ice-cold on his heated skin. He swims until the cacophony of the waves crashing against the shore lulls him. He swims until he’s about to drown, limbs too heavy to float. How he manages to get back on the beach, he doesn’t know. He collapses in the sand, exhausted. The distant moon looks down on him, her inquisitive eyes strangely offensive. Tonight, the heavenly body is mocking him. Look at this fool, she laughed. Did you really think she’d wait for you?

Vincenzo wants to scream at her, or maybe at himself, but instead he cries. He doesn’t have the energy to fight it, or to feel ashamed. He is guilty of leaving her and he has no one else to blame. Regret might be an old friend, but guilt is his greatest foe. 

He forces himself to get up, knowing he’d get buried under the weight of his conscience if he stayed any longer. Putting back on his trousers only, Vincenzo carries his shoes and his top until he sees the hotel lights. Were they still dancing together? 

He stops before going inside, lighting a cigarette. He’d taken it up again after going back to Italy, another one of the nasty habits he indulged in. He stood near a huge palm tree, just at the entrance of the main building, probably why he didn’t see him. Cha-young’s… someone was standing there, smoking on the other side of the palm tree. Vincenzo holds his breath, not sure how to react. The man is on the phone, and although it isn’t his business, he can’t help but overhear his conversation. 

“No, no… I told you, nothing’s going on with her...Yes, I promise. I told you, she paid for all her employees, it’s a group thing. Mmh. Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon. Me too.”

Forget torture, Vincenzo is killing this man with his bare hands tonight. 

*‘Sink Not Yet My Soul To Slumber’ is a Christian Hymn SINK not yet, my soul, to slumber, Wake, my heart, go forth and tell, All the mercies without number That this by-gone day befell: Tell how God hath kept afar, All things that against me war, Hath upheld me and defended, And His grace my soul befriended.

[filmsmakkari]

Congratulations

Wordcount- 1.7k

Hamilton!Tom Holland x Angelica!Reader

Tom Holland x Princess!Reader

I would recommend listening to the song here!

Full Series Masterlist

Your time in Hasnaa was joyous. You wished you could have stayed there forever, but you most unfortunately had to return to your husband, and your disastrous marriage in London. With him, the days were drab and dull. It felt as if every day dragged on longer than the last, but drag on they did, and before you knew it, five years had passed.

You were sitting at the end of the table what felt like miles away from your husband, when a servant entered with a letter in her hand.

“It’s from Prince Phillip, your grace.” The servant girl curtsied before exiting.

“Thank you,” you said as you opened the letter.

It read:

My Dear Aunt,

Cold is my heart as I reckon with the affects my father’s whims have had on our family name. I’m not sure if word has yet reached you there in London, but I must most regretfully inform you that our dear Duke of Saataun has had a most unfortunate affair with the young Countess Nadia Renoylds. Apparently, it took place when we were visiting grandfather at the Fadar da Hasnaa, a considerable time indeed. He also had the privity and connivance of the count, whom he paid off to not tell mother. Apparently, the entire affair was an elaborate scheme on the Renoylds’ part. Their most intricate plan was for the countess to seduce father into an affair, and then blackmail him. If father did not find himself in a prosperous enough position to put wealth into their pockets, they would tell mother of the affair. Of course, this all took place many years ago, and father did pay the count off. None of this would have come to light if those vultures Anthony Monroe, Christopher Jefferson, and Aaron Blackwell hadn’t accused father of embezzlement. To prove his innocence, father published an essay entitled “The Reynolds Pamphlet”in which he admits the truth of his affair, and how he did not in fact embezzle money, but rather used it to pay off his mistress’s husband. In truth it isn’t much better, but he committed no crimes. He might have mortally wounded his prospects, but his papers are orderly, that is a fact none can deny. I have attached a copy of The Reynolds Pamphlet with this letter so that you may read it yourself. Tis no surprise that my mother is outraged. She has father sleeping in his office, and last night as I was passing her cracked bedroom door, I saw her setting fire to all the hundreds of letters he’s written to her. I know it is much to ask of you, seeing as you are the ruler of a large realm, but if you could journey here to see her, I’m sure it would be much consolation. With our dear Peggy sick in Paris, you are the only of her sisters with the ability to make the journey. Please consider.

Votre neveu le plus adorant et le plus vrai,

Prince Phillip of Saataun

Your heart sank as you read your nephew’s words. You quickly took the “Reynolds Pamphlet” from under his letter and read it.

It Read:

I owe perhaps to my friends an apology for condescending to give a public explanation. A just pride with reluctance stoops to a formal vindication against so despicable a contrivance and is inclined rather to oppose to it the uniform evidence of an upright character.

The charge against me is a connection with one Anthony Reynolds. For purposes of improper speculation, my real crime is an amorous connection with his wife, for a considerable time with his knowing consent, if not originally brought on by a combination between the husband and wife with the design to extort money from me. I had frequent meetings with her, most of them in my own house, the Duchess with our children being absent on a visit to the King.

This confession is not made without a blush. I cannot be the apologist of any vice because the ardour of passion may have made it mine. I can never cease to condemn myself for the pang, which it may inflict in a bosom eminently intitled to all my gratitude, fidelity and love. But that bosom will approve, that even at so great an expence, I should effectually wipe away a more serious stain from a name, which it cherishes with no less elevation than tenderness. The public too will I trust excuse the confession. The necessity of it to my defence against a more heinous charge could alone have extorted from me so painful an indecorum.

The essay went on for several more paragraphs, but you could not bear to read any more. Your heart felt as if it was cracking as you thought of your dear Eliza. Oh, all the pain she must have been in. How could Thomas, your Thomas have done such a thing? How could he have hurt your sister in such a way? The anger must have been clear in your eyes, as your husband suddenly spoke.

“What is it?” his monotone voice asked. He barely even looked up from his newspaper.

“My dear sister, Eliza, and our brother, Thomas seem to have been involved in a scandal. I must return home immediately.”

“Oh, well you do that. I shall remain here.”

Oh, of course, he was. You held back an eye roll as you stood and went to your quarters to begin packing.

You booked passage on a ship that was heading for Saataun the next day and quickly made your way home. Your carriage was awaiting your arrival when you stepped off the docks, and you immediately directed him to Eliza’s palace. When you knocked on the door, to your surprise, it was answered by your nephew, Phillip, now fourteen years old. You hugged him tightly.

“Where is your mother, Phillip?” you asked as you released the boy.

“At the store, I believe. But father’s just upstairs, in his office.”

You thanked the young boy before rushing up the stairs and into Thomas’s office.

His eyes widened at the sight of you. “(Y/N)?”

“I came as soon as I heard,” you said flatly.

“Oh, (Y/N), thank God,” he rose and walked towards you, taking your hands and trying to kiss it “someone who understands what I’m struggling here to do-” he paused as you snatched your hand away from him.

“(Y/N)?”

“Congratulations, Thomas.”

He looked at you confused.

“You have invented a new kind of stupid! A damage you could never undo kind of stupid, an open all the cages in the zoo kind of stupid! Truly, you didn’t think this through, did you?”

You gestured with your hands as you spoke. “Let's review, shall we? You two a rumor a few-what was it, three- people knew and refuted it by sharing an affair of which no one has accused you!” You got close to his face, saying, “Thomas, I begged you to take a break and you refused to.”

Now you were pacing and speaking loudly. “You’re so scared of what your enemies will do to you when in reality you’re the only enemy you ever seem to lose to! Do you know why Jefferson can do as he pleases? He doesn’t dignify schoolyard taunts with a response! So yes, congratulations, Thomas.”

“(Y/N)...”

“You’ve redefined your legacy. No, really! Congratulations,” you said, walking out.

“It was an act of political sacrifice!” he exclaimed.

You stopped in your tracks, looking back at him bewildered. “Sacrifice? Thomas Holland, you know nothing of sacrifice.”

“What does that mean?”

“Thomas, I languished in a loveless marriage in London, I lived only to read your letters. I look at you and think “God, what have we done with our lives, and what did it get us?” It doesn’t wipe all the years or all my tears away, but I’ve returned to Larione, and this time I’m here to stay. Do you know what I’m here to do, Thomas?”

“(Y/N)...” he said, coming close to you and cupping your face.

As much as it pained you to do so, you grabbed his hand, tearing it from your face, and saying, “I’m not here for you.”

Thomas sighed, tears burning in his eyes.

You felt the anger begin to rise again as you spoke, “I know my sister like I know my own mind! You will meet a more gentle, kind, trusting soul. I love my sister more than anything in this life! If it comes to choosing between her happiness and mine, I will choose hers every time! Yelizaveta is the best person in our lives, so never again make the mistake of forgetting that you have been blessed with the best wife! For the rest of your life, every sacrifice you make is for my sister, you be sure to give her the best life!”

You raised your hand and slapped him as hard as humanly possible and turned to leave. You paused in the doorframe, turning back to him. “Putting what we had aside, I’m going to find my sister and I am going to stand by her side. I already know “you could never be satisfied.” God, I hope you’re satisfied.” And with that, you were gone.

Your night was spent whispering comforting words to your younger sister, remarking to her “Oh, my dear Eliza, I fear you have married an Icarus. He has flown too close to the sun.”

You did in fact stay in Larione, just as you had told Thomas you would, choosing to relocate to the Fadar da Zuri. It was frowned upon by the public that you, the Empress of Jimbaari, were staying in a palace outside of your country without a husband or some other guardian, but you didn’t care. Your sister and her happiness were all that mattered to you. You prayed for your sister’s happiness. You also prayed that she’d forgive Thomas. Not, in fact, because of your love for Thomas, but rather as you didn’t want anything weighing on your sister’s gentle soul.

As for your ever most complicated relationship with Thomas, you barely interacted with him, not speaking to him when at their home and not writing to him. Though sometimes, you would catch him staring at you with such deep longing that it made your heart ache. And it pained you so deeply, because you knew you couldn’t have been more in love with him- even after his betrayal. So, pray you did. Prayed for your sister’s inner peace, and your own, prayed for the well being of the children, and prayed begging the lord why in all his goodness, he would cause you the utmost pain by bringing that foolish soldier Thomas Holland into their lives.