#from the beginning of the season really. but i was holding out hope till the end of the season that they'd do a bit better with it.

[mag200]

like they try their best i guess to show the. plight of the smallfolk or whatever. going so far as to name a whole episode "smallfolk" which is kind of a lot but anyway. the problem is they have a lot of royals standing around being either "im gonna do what i want" or "i cant do what i want because itll hurt the smallfolk :( im a good person" but we almost never see those people that actually are hurt by it. (unless it's a dog we do see the dog who's sad about his ratcatcher.) we get a few scenes where its very obvious that that guy is going to be lifted out of poverty and become important to the upper class because of his hidden bloodline. his daughter dies offscreen of starvation and illness to emphasize his tragedy and his wife immediately disappears because he then becomes a dragonrider and therefore important and suddenly we know why he's relevant to the plot. and this is fine. we expect this. but frankly i could do with a bit less of holding the royal class's guilt for the poor while they neglect to actually share any time with those poor people.

[blerb-f1]

"The Future" - Sebastian Vettel x reader

The news truly shocked me and compelled me to write this.

Lewis Hamilton is a side character in this.

not proofread i dont have the mental capacity rn

This fic also is kinda part of a series, but it can stand on it's own! For more, view my masterlist.

-------

“Have you considered it at least?”

A fragmented voice sounding through a tin-like phone speaker asked with a certain pressure behind it. The kind of pressure you’d only hear from people who wanted something. Something important.

Sebastian eyed the phone hesitantly, placing it on the windowsill while holding his watering can. Little droplets sliding down it’s side as he attempted to water his dried pot of basil - traveling was never something that helped in plantkeeping, not when you’d spend half the year in random hotels somewhere in the world.

He did not feel the need to return to the circus known as Formula 1, having enjoyed his time there but entirely content with retirement. Opposed to some of the others, he thought, he knew when to quit. No longer circling the biggest cities on earth but the supermarket parking lot in hopes of finding an empty spot. More importantly, waking up in his own bed for 7/7 days a week was a major joy to him, a feeling he didn’t feel like giving up.

“You know as well as i do, that we need an  experienced driver. George’s good but… He just can’t give us the direction needed.” Toto sounded quite serious at that moment - Lewis deciding to leave must have hurt him badly, considering him approaching Sebastian.

“Also… I just want someone i can trust to be around me”

Looking up in surprise, Seb almost dropped the watering can on the floor. Lewis leaving had REALLY hurt him.

“I’ve been thinking about retiring from F1 now. But they’d probably cancel F1 Academy without me around. Force Susie into Submission. I don’t want that. Fuck no.”

“Toto, I-” Sebastian started speaking, plucking the dead leaves from his pot of basil. “I like life. I love peaceful mornings.”

Silence. The phone speaker didn’t echo out for a few moments. 

“What would you say, if i told you we had a championship winning car?”

—-----------------------------------------------

“You really agree to it?” Sebastian asked, Surprise lingering on his voice.

“Of course i do, i’ve seen you thirst for racing while you yourself didn’t. I was with you from the beginning till the end of your career, don’t you think i’d be able to read you by now?” Y/N answered him, their eyebrows pulled together in a mild emotion.

“But there’s a catch.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be your race engineer. Like i’ve always been”

“Huh?” Seb asked again, this time even more surprised than before. Y/N nodded seriously. “I can’t see you race with another Engineer at your side. It feels wrong.”

The man man pondered for a moment, his brain racking. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Toto.”

A week later, Mercedes made an announcement. For the 2025 season, Bono would be moving to the lead Race Engineer position, not being directly responsible for a single racer. The community was confused, unsure of what was happening. Would they be promoting a rookie racer and engineer to grow their youth? Would they be getting a driver and engineer paring from another team?

Twitter and Reddit Artists were working hard, creating shitpost after shitpost, pundits podcast over podcast as the season progressed, trying to figure out who’d be the next racer.

Meanwhile Sebastian and Y/N were busy in their own ways. Practicing their communication again, the driver getting physically fit and in shape again. Moreso than he had been during his time at Aston Martin. This was going to be serious - no more lazing around. Go hard or go home.

Y/N worked with Bono - the man they used to work against- to get used to the Mercedes way of communication. It was very difficult, more strict compared to the free Red Bull. More lenient compared to the crazy Ferrari. More rule governed, compared to Aston Martin. Peter Bonnington was surprised in his own way, understanding why L/N and Vettel were the scary Duo they had been all this time. They had been a team since 2008, their shared time rivaling his and Lewis. Lewis- that was a mental direction he shouldn’t go to. Mercedes would need to win the championship, no time to waste on stupid thoughts.

As the season progressed and Fans grew mad with their speculation, Mercedes made a post on their instagram. It was a Photo of one of the trees outside their HQ, with a little bee fluttering around it. One single Description. “We love nature”.

Fans went wild with speculation, thinking, planning, shitposting. 

Then one day, two weeks away from the season beginning, the news fell. Two announcement posts in a single day. Y/N L/N heading to Mercedes as Race Engineer, Sebastian Vettel as driver. Mercedes returning back to their silver arrows livery.

The community went wild, the thing they’d never expected had happened.

Lewis meanwhile, was downtrodden. He had expected this move to work out differently. Ferrari clearly designated Charles as Driver 1, not adjusting around him like he’d gotten used to. Their bad race engineering got him into trouble many times. Seeing this news almost broke him. They had replaced him with his friend, who didn’t speak a single word of this? Shame on him.

Shortly after, a Video went online on the Mercedes Account. Sebastian and Y/N were seated among the many championships belonging to Mercedes, clad in white teamgear. Their eyes were determined, telling people they hadn’t arrived to play. As Sebastian took of his hat, people noticed the change. His own cold smile had returned, the one that caused people to call him a smiling assassin. His locks short again, like when he’d won his own championships. Y/N had assimilated, they’re hair bleached and dyed into a silvery colour. 

Fans once again were shocked, they truly hadn’t expected Sebastian to return like this. More akin to the way Schumacher returned but apparently that was not the choice Vettel made - he was here to win, not for the participation trophy.

As the season opener in Australia rolled around, many eyes were glued to the screen. Y/N was sitting on a bicycle along with their driver on his own, passing over the track. Taking in texture, dirt and heat. The media approached them back in the pits, shoving microphones in their face. Y/N just grunted, showing the media a literal middle finger before dipping into the Mercedes pitwall. 

This was the same paring as back in 2011, ready to fight. Qualifying went well, dangerously well. It was as if Seb hadn’t left F1. But not the 2022 Version, the 2012 Version. His defense was ruthless, his attacks even more. He utilised all the skills he had honed over years, even the smallest tricks Michael had once explained to him to gain a faster time. As he crossed over the finish line in first position, Martin Brundle screamed out loud. Nobody had expected this, nobody thought he could win a race again. Toto was jumping in the Mercedes Garage, Y/N jumping along and almost throwing the headset down.

Sebastian on the radio was back to his own, singing, cheering and screaming absolute gibberish. Pulling into Parc Fermé, he was surprised at having the camera and microphone pushed into his face. This new way of doing things was very unusual to him. 

“So Sebastian, tell us how you’re feeling.”

“I feel like i belong” was his simple answer, pushing the camera out of his face as he headed to get weighed. He took a short look at the staircase leading up to the podium. It had been a while since he had last set foot onto them. They were almost scary but he knew, he was secure. A hand placed on his shoulder, one that he had felt there for many years. Y/N was there to get the constructors trophy, truely the only appropriate person today.

The clothing wasn’t the same as in the past, but the energy was. People were cheering, even more were booing. Not wanting another Era of Mercedes Dominance. Booing however, did nothing to deter Sebastian or Y/N. After all, they were the original Red Bull Villains. 

Ignoring the rules, they let the champagne down to the team to enjoy. This was their first victory after a few years as well, they deserved it after sacrificing two seasons to get this car made.

Then, a lone camera man captured an almost painfull view. Lewis Hamilton, clad in the strong Ferrari Red standing aside, looking up to the silver team with sadness and longing in his eyes. This hurt him, it truly did. Tears were welling in his eyes as the camera man moved away tactfully, instead capturing the celebrating couple instead.

The season progressed, a grandslam in all eyes. Win after win - not a single Race lost. As the Final in Bahrain rolled around and Sebastian collected his fifth driver’s championship, he knew he had found a new family and home. Y/N and him were celebrating wildly, the basil on the windowsill long forgotten among the glory and the parties, the heat and the energy.

It was that day, that a man entered a plane back to his new home in Italy. Eying the still not fully unpacked furniture, he settled onto a lightly dusted chair. Had leaving Mercedes truly not been the right decision? Lewis looked at a photobook a fan had gotten him. From winning with McLaren, the years with Nico and Valtteri, Mercedes had truly grown into his home and Family. What had made him leave them then? Was it the thirst for glory? Had he not enjoyed the atmosphere anymore? He felt conflicted. People had told him that Ferrari would break him. He didn’t want to believe them, but they were right. The red team had once again done what it did best. Destroy someone. Lewis looked back on Sebastian’s Face, remembering his defeated expression after the years of fighting with the red team. Of getting recognition for Kimi as well. Of standing up against Charles.

Lewis considered his options, putting his own life on the golden scale. Then, he made a decision. Opening instagram, he made a single post. Cuddling Roscoe, the description was simple, something nostalgic almost. “I hereby announce my retirement from Formula 1”

[neptunescore]

hi pooks! can you write for brocedes with the random word hotel 🙈 lysm mwah mwah congrats on 600!!

Prompt word: Hotel | Pairing: Brocedes

The scene in front of him is breathtakingly beautiful.

A cacophony of blues, pinks and reds that intertwine and blur into each other, casting hues of gold into the sea as it begins it’s slow embrace of the sun.

Nico could stay here forever — watch the honeyed sunlight melt into deep waters till there's nothing left, and then wait right there as a new day passes and the cycle starts all over again — endless.

He shifts a little; his back sore from the uncomfortably-shaped balcony chair he's seated on, he knows Lewis is going to be cross with him later, is probably going to lecture him about self-care and what not, but the world champion is too tired to care about anything right now — let alone Lewis’ weird protectiveness over his health.

Nico sighs, he missed Lewis.

For all his infatuation with the sight before him, the blonde haired man would give it up in an instant if it meant having Lewis by his side again — the slow dance of blues and pinks and reds may take his breath away; but the soft golden-brown of Lewis’ skin, the infinite black of Lewis’ eyes, that— that left him with no air at all.

He’d been cooped up in this hotel room for a week now, lazily shifting between the bed and the balcony — an occasional trip outside sometimes; walking down streets shaded by never-ending trees, sitting on benches wrapped in leafy vines as he licked drops of melted ice-cream off his fingers.

Nico never wanted to leave. Wanted to spend the rest of his life like this. Didn’t even want to think about the plane ticket he’d placed in the bedside drawer.

A quiet ruffling draws the man out of his thoughts, blue eyes moving upwards as he tries to find the perpetrator of the noise.

There are two birds a few metres in front of him, brown feathers brushing against white ones, their wings stretched out and tense while loose talons tear against the clouds surrounding them. There is something wrong with the white one, it’s left wing crooked and bent, yet—

Oh. Nico’s eyes crinkle, lips curling softly. What a wonder it is, he thinks — watching where the brown sparrow had placed itself. To live. Right below the lower left side of it’s counterpart’s body. To love. Holding up the extra weight that the other could not.

“Man, what are you doing?”

The retired driver looks behind him, musings of wings and feathers vanishing immediately as a pout falls on his lips, “I missed you.”

“Nico-” A chuckle, I was gone for ten minutes.”

Nico sniffs haughtily, “ten minutes too long,” he frowns.

“Babe! I literally asked you if you wanted to come with me!”

“Yes. Well-”

“Oh shut up and come inside before the food gets cold. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’re sitting on that chair again.”

Nico rolls his eyes, pulling himself up and arching his back as he steps inside — groaning in pleasure as he feels a few satisfactory pops, “I want a hug.”

“Oh my god, you are so clingy.”

Yet there are arms wrapping around him instantly, blanketing him in a cocoon of warmth and love that he lets himself melt into.

“You okay, babe?” Lewis asks quietly. And Nico can feel the sincerity, the care; he can already feel the tears forming, can’t really believe that he has this now — will have this forever. Maybe.

“You won’t leave me when we go back home, will you? When the season starts? I won’t be on the grid anymore.”

“Oh Nico. I’m not going to leave you ever,” Lewis murmurs into his hair, “I know I can’t change the past few years, but that's never going to happen again, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” A nod, beaded braids brushing against the skin of his face, “Never again.”

Dark lips graze against his closed eyes. Nico’s grip on Lewis’ sweater tightens, a sudden lightness in his chest.

Liv!!! Finally done with this for you, and honestly, I just had to do fluff bc I have read way too much angst abt them😔✋🏽. I hope this matched ur expectations, meri jaan💗 ALSO, in the time it took me to write this, I gained a 100 (A HUNDRED😵‍💫🤭) more followers!! So the happiness just keeps going<3

I have also just given up on finding aesthetically matching pics of the drivers😭 (I scoured pinterest for an hour bfr ending up on nico's YouTube vids and taking ss's from there🙂🔫)

ANWAY, FEEL FREE TO DROP BY WHENEVER POOKS (this goes to all of you)🫶🏼😘

Divider creds to @cafekitsune as always♡

Rules and details☆°•~

[littlespacereader]

Nb reader had beginning to have accidents so Steve Rogers comeforts them and helped them clean up

Such an adorable concept! I haven’t written for Steve Rogers in such a long time so when I first tackled this I had a bit of writers block. Thankfully I reworked it a bit and I think it came out so cute!! I really hope you enjoy this! Thank you for the request!

Summer in Brooklyn☀️🍼

Caregiver! Steve Rogers & GN! Little Reader (SFW!)

Tags - Summertime fun, bathing suits & sprinklers, Bucky & Sam mentioned, accident, pull-ups, forehead kisses, cuddles and hugs

It’s a warm summer day in Brooklyn! Finally the weather matched the season and everyone on the block was outside having fun!

The same could be said for Steve and Y/N who played together in their small backyard. Steve sat on a lawn chair watching Y/N run up and down through the sprinkler Bucky had brought a day prior.

It has become an afternoon routine of Steve and Y/N’s to get changed into their bathing suits and play a little game of tag around the backyard while the sprinkler sprayed them.

Today was an especially hot day in their small backyard. To make sure his little one didn’t get a heat stroke, Steve made sure they had plenty of juice and some ice pops here and there to counteract the crazy temperatures.

As the day went on, he could see his little one start to get more and more tired. There was nothing like a nap after playing in the water all day.

“Alright Y/N, let’s head in.” Steve stood up.

“Nooooooooowwwwaaaa.” Y/N whined behind him as he turned off the hose to the sprinkler. They were currently sitting in a puddle, playing with their zoo animal figures, splashing then into the puddle below.

“We’ll play tomorrow I promise. It’s just getting late and I need to get started on some dinner.” Steve explained, without the added part of a nap. That would come later.

Y/N sighed but nodded their head as the stoop up and walked over to Steve. But there was just one problem…there were no towels outside.

“Huh? Guess Papa forgot the towels upstairs.” Steve said more to himself than Y/N.

Y/N was holding their arms close. Being out of the sun and soaking wet was making them start to shiver. “Cold Papa.” They said softly,

“Here,” Steve took his shirt off and placed it over their head. Because of his tall stature the shirt was almost like a dress on Y/N. “There you go.” Steve smiled, “That will keep you warm till I grab the towel.”

While it wasn’t the warmest, Y/N wrapped their arms around the shirt and smiled. They always loved when they got a piece of clothing from their Cg. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome sweetheart. Now let’s go inside and get some towels.” Hand in hand, Steve and Y/N stepped back into the house.

Steve wasn’t wet at all. After sitting in the sun he had dried out. Y/N on the other hand was still wet head to toe. Steve had Y/N stand on a mar by the back door.

“Here sweetheart, you stay here so we’re not tracking so much water through the house and I’ll run upstairs and grab some towels okay?”

Y/N smiled and nod their head yes. Steve smiled back, placing a small kiss to their head before heading to the stairs.

~~~

Only issue is…Y/N was still cold. They held their new shirt close to them and crossed their arms infront. Papa said he wasn’t going to be long, just grabbing towels.

But with the cold making them shiver slightly, another issue came to the surface…they needed to use the potty.

The bathroom on the first floor was on the opposite side of the house. Papa said to stay on the mat so they wouldn’t track water through the house but…how much longer was he going to be? They didn’t want to track water but they had to go potty badly.

Maybe Papa would be back soon, maybe they could hold it, they reasoned with themselves. But as the seconds ticked away. They could feel their grip slipping.

But just then they heard Papa coming down the stairs!

~~~

Steve walked down the stairs, clothes and towels in hand, “I’m sorry I took so long bug. I figured I get all of your supplies and clothes from upstairs so you wouldn’t have to-.”

Steve trailed off as his eyes met with Y/N’s form. Small trickle down their leg and a puddle beneath gave away their accident. They looked up at him with tears in their eyes. “Y-You said, no move.” They explained with a little sniffle and a tear falling from their eye.

This is the second time his little one has had an accident. The first was during a thunderstorm last week. One loud crash had Y/N running to Steve in wet pajamas.

At first Steve and even Y/N, thought it was a one off thing…until today. But Steve had already had a conversation with Y/N about this the first time it happened. Accidents were okay, and didn’t define them and their regression. He was more than willing to help his little one.

“Oh Y/N,” He walked over and brought them close, pulling them into a hug. “I am so sorry. This accident is my fault. I should’ve checked in with you earlier to see if you needed to go potty.”

Once they broke apart Steve picked his little one up, though they protested. “No! Icky!”

“It’s okay, Papa needs to get changed too. I don’t mind. Right now let’s worry about getting you changed.” Steve reassured. Y/N looked as though they were going to say something but settled for hiding their head in his shoulder.

Steve carried them into the bathroom, closing the door behind them and settle his little one down on the toilet cover.

As he organized everything a small sniffle came from the opposite end of the bathroom, “Papa i sworry.” Y/N said, tears falling from their eyes.

Steve immediately stopped what he was doing and went over to his little one. He places a soft hand on their shoulder, “Y/N what happened is nothing you need to apologize for. What did I tell you when you had your first accident last week?”

“Accidents are ‘kay.”

“That’s right. You know accidents are okay. This one is on me. I should’ve kept a better eye on your juice intake.” Steve sighed to himself. “But having an accident doesn’t mean anything bad. Sometimes our bodies just don’t realize what we need to do in time and that’s okay. Everyone’s body works differently.” He began to explain getting a small nod from Y/N.

“We’re going to clean you up, and get you into some comfy pajamas for the night. Then you can help Papa cook dinner. How does that sound?”

Y/N nodded, a small smile returning to their face. “Accident okay?” They asked one last time.

“Yes sweetheart, accidents are okay.” Steve smiled back. “Now, let’s get this little rascal dried off before you catch a cold.” That got Steve a small giggle from Y/N.

First he helped wash and dry his little one off. But before he went a step further he paused and turned to them for guidance. “Now I know this was just an accident, but do you want to wear some protection? It’s your choice bug. I won’t be mad if you say no.”

Steve watched as his little one stopped and thought long and hard about it. But after a moment they pointed to the pull-up then they put their thumb in their mouth.

“Good choice sweetheart.” Steve smiled. After that it was just getting them changed into a fresh pull-up and warm pajamas.

Once done, Steve also changed out of his wet clothes and into more comfier clothes for the evening. “There we are,” he said as he lifted Y/N into his arms. “All nice and dry.”

By now Y/N was loosing the battle to stay awake, the long but fun filled day catching up with them. Steve walked back into the living room, grabbing their pacifier off the end table and replacing their thumb with it. “There we go, much better.”

Y/N nodded snuggling closer to Steve. Steve knew that there was no way Y/N was going to let him put them down for a nap. But he did know they would fall asleep in his arms. The solution? Send a quick text to Sam and ask if he can pop over and help out dinner.

With the text sent, Steve walked over to the couch and plopped down onto it, Y/N still half asleep in his arms. He rubbed their back up and down as their head rested soundly in his shoulder.

Before they really drifted off he managed to hear them say, “Papa best.”

Steve chuckled, moving to place a small kiss to the top of their head, “I’m only the best because I have the best little in the whole wide world.”

Accidents will happen, floors and clothes can be cleaned, but what will stay forever is the trust and love between Steve and Y/N.

[halfbakedideas]

i can hold my breath, i've been doing it since he left

After Aziraphale leaves, Crowley does a lot of waiting. And drinking.

Notes:

EDIT: changed the title from 'curse the wind, fan the flames, yell 'till your lungs are drained' (Quiet Company by Jack Harris).

CW for alcohol and a character being drunk. Do I still need to warn for 02x06 spoilers or has it been long enough now? This is essentially just word vomit on one speculation I had for Crowley post-season 2 & written during one of my writing classes. Figured I might as well post this otherwise it’ll just rot in my drive forever.

Read on Ao3

—x—x—x—

Crowley sits slumped over at a bar. Beer cans, whiskey glasses, and even a couple of empty wine glasses forming a barrier around him.

The barkeep had started shooting him worried looks when he finishes a second handle’s worth of whiskey after about three beers and two glasses of wine, and was still (mostly) upright.

It takes a lot of alcohol to get someone of angel stock properly sloshed. But when Crowley has spent more of the last eleven months with some form of alcohol in him than sober, that doesn’t really mean anything.

A glass of red wine rests in his hand, still filled a quarter of the way. He didn’t care enough to know which one when he’d gotten the barkeeper to pour him another glass.

Crowley raises the glass to his lips and takes a swig. A drop of wine traces its way down his chin. He wipes it away with a hand. He nearly knocks an abandoned whiskey glass clean off the table when he sets it down.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for you,” the barkeep speaks up, stepping towards the demon. Her hand is outstretched as if she plans to take the wine glass out of his hands.

“Nuh — not yet, not even drunk yet,” he slurs. He waves a hand in her direction to make her forget about what she had just been about to do and the events of the last two hours too. Whoops.

He drinks some more wine and manages not to spill any of it this time.

By the time the bar closes half an hour later — or is it fifteen minutes? He hats that particular stretch of time: fifteen minutes — Crowley is still upright and on his feet, by the sheer force of a demonic miracle.

‘On his feet’ does not automatically mean ‘able to walk in a straight line’.

The demon makes his way down the street, the path in front of him swimming.

He believes that he is going to make it back to his flat without becoming a serpent-shaped pancake on the pavement, so he would. More or less.

Logically, the smart thing would have been to miracle all of the alcohol out of his bloodstream before he left the bar. But the thought had occurred to him when he first started doing this, and it had been quickly dismissed. He isn’t going to change his mind now, eight months later.

Existence is so much easier to deal with like this; being too drunk to be able to think straight means that he doesn’t have to think. Thinking is overrated anyway.

Surprisingly, this much alcohol in him keeps him from doing something stupid like yelling in the vague direction of the sky. Would he be yelling at Aziraphale or God, he isn’t sure. Or go charging into the elevator to do something phenomenally stupider.

Alcohol certainly makes passing the time easier. Makes it pass quicker. Makes waiting less boring.

That’s what he has been doing for the last eleven months, waiting. Because, after the initial shock and heartbreak wore off, Crowley choose to believe that Aziraphale hasn’t truly abandoned him for Heaven. That he took the Supreme Archangel position because he has a plan, whatever it could be.

He isn’t quite sure what he would do if the opposite turned out to be true.

Die, probably.

So Crowley holds onto that flicker of hope (You’re a demon, demons don’t get to hope. Stop that.) and resigns himself to waiting.

But it is in times like this, the very very early hours of the morning when he is staggering off back to his flat or over to his bed, that hope starts to wane. When the ‘what ifs’ begin to creep in.

What if Aziraphale doesn’t have a plan or isn’t going to come back to Earth (and Crowley) again? What if he stays up there forever? What if the angel has forgotten about him?

He will either find out or spend eternity waiting. Some days he isn’t sure which is worse.

Crowley has just climbed into the Bentley when a flicker of light catches his eye. And there is a see-through version of Aziraphale sitting in the passenger’s seat beside him. Turned towards him slightly with his mouth open as if he’s about to say something.

Not this again.

“Know you’re not really here, so fuck off,” he tells the hallucination.

“Crowley…“ Whatever the hallucination is about to say next gets cut off.

“No. Don’t care. You aren’t real, anyway,”

The Bentley pulls out of the parking space and onto the road. It takes off in the direction of Crowley’s flat faster than an eighty-year-old car should have been able to. Crowley doesn’t see the sad expression that ghosted over the hallucination’s face before it vanishes from the passenger’s seat.

This is something that has started happening whenever the demon thinks too hard about what ifs and Aziraphale, a hallucination of the angel would appear.

When it had first appeared, it scared the wits out of Crowley (not that he would ever admit that to anyone) who had been in the middle of a Golden Girls marathon. He yelled at the hallucination for nearly fifteen whole minutes before he realised he wasn’t yelling at the real Aziraphale. That had made him yell some more, just in the direction of Heaven instead.

The next day plays out much like every day before it had. Crowley wakes to find himself very much, disappointingly sober but with a ridiculous headache. The cure, which he decided upon months ago, was to get up and go drink some more.

It wasn’t like he has much else to do. Hell stopped giving him any assignments after Armageddon’t and stopped communicating with him at all as of eleven months ago.

So all he has left is an indeterminate amount of waiting.

—x—x—x—

End notes:

Is Crowley really hallucinating Aziraphale, or is it something else entirely?

[hockey-fics]

Next Summer ~ Brock Boeser 

Summary: The summers spent at your family’s cabin were some of your favourite memories. When you return as an adult you discover that maybe not everything from the past was really left in the past. 

Word Count: ~5,300

Warnings: Drinking, implied smut (I guess, but it’s very fleeting and vague)

Traditions didn’t hold a huge place in your life growing up. Every Christmas you bounced from one relative’s home to another. Thanksgiving dinners almost never looked the same. Cousins and aunts and uncles would come and go, years of family dinners and holiday gatherings would go by before you would see them again. 

But there was always one thing that you looked forward to each and every year. Every summer, for two and a half months, you would drive down from your home in the suburbs to the cabin on the lake. You would get to forget about school and homework and bedtimes. You would spend all day out in the summer sun, sticky with sunscreen and bug spray. 

Your family wasn’t the only one. Each of those cabins along that shoreline would come alive. The quiet beaches would fill with children, adults on decks drinking a few hours before it became socially acceptable anywhere else. Dark nights would be brightened by campfires and beams from unsteady flashlights, held onto by kids who should have been in bed long ago. 

There was a sense of peace that was brought on by that property. Time moved slower, everyone seemed happier, things felt easier. But as time went on you started spending less and less time out there. You went away to university. You became busy with internships and jobs and leases that didn’t end for the few months of summer. 

But eventually the property lost the interest of your parents. With no children at home, familiar friends who once had cabins up there selling them off, the time and energy and money to take care of it no longer seemed to be worth it. You yourself hadn’t been there in a couple years, though the memories were as vivid as always. So when the option of them gifting the property to you came up it took little consideration for you to say yes. 

After packing your car full of essentials you headed up to the cabin shortly after the exchange of ownership. When you pull up to the familiar cabin there’s a sense of ease that washes over you, even now that you had a truckload of responsibility to go with coming up here. 

Hoping out of the car you bring everything inside, the memories flooding in. After putting your groceries in the kitchen, sheets on the bed, and pulling the patio couch cushions out you head out onto the deck to enjoy the fresh air and slight breeze rolling in off the lake. 

A few minutes after flopping down onto the patio furniture you’re greeted by a big white dog, tail wagging crazily as he stares up at you. 

“Hey buddy,” you say, reaching over and scratching him behind the ear. “Where did you come from?”

“Milo.”

Tipping your head up you look in the direction of the man calling for who you would guess to be the dog that was standing in front of you. Standing up you walk towards the edge of your deck, the dog following after you, nose nudging at your hand. “I think-,” you begin, freezing when you notice who was standing in the yard next to you. “Oh my god,” you laugh, hurrying down the stairs. “You’re still around, hey?”

You grew up with Brock. At least for two months of the year every summer. You were the same age and his family owned the property next door. The crush you had on Brock spanned from early in your life right up till the last summer you spent together right after high school graduation. 

“Holy shit,” Brock comments, shaking his head. He has his arms around you as soon as you’re close enough for him to reach you. “Of course I’m still around, I’m out here every summer. You’re the one who vanished.”

Pulling back you look up at Brock, shaking your head. “Sorry, we don’t all have an off-season.”

“I guess you’ve got a point,” Brock chuckles. “Just out here for the weekend then?”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” you admit. “The place is mine now and I work remotely so I guess I could be out here as long as I want but I don’t know, it feels weird to think about being here that long again.”

“Yours, hey?” Brock states, glancing behind you at the house. “Are your parents okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assure him. “Just not as interested in getting drunk on the lake everyday of the summer anymore.”

Brock laughs, glancing out at the lake before turning his attention back to you. “Well I’m glad it’s yours now, wouldn’t want to see anyone else here.”

You couldn’t deny the way he still managed to fill your stomach with butterflies, even all these years. “Me too,” you say, voice quiet. Glancing down you pet the dog again that had still not left your side. 

“I see you’ve met Milo,” Brock comments, glancing over his shoulder and pointing to the second dog that was laying under the shade of a tree. “That one’s Coolie.”

“They’re very cute,” you tell him, smiling down at Milo. “How long are you up here for?”

Brock shrugs, like time didn’t mean anything to him. “Till sometime in August.”

“So I guess we have plenty of time to catch up then.”

“Absolutely,” Brock says with a smile. “You want to come over for a drink or something?”

“I’d be down for a drink.”

You follow Brock across the yard and onto the deck, accepting the can of cider he offers before sitting down on the soft cushions of one of the patio cushions. “So, what’s new in your life?”

Brock shrugs, flopping down onto the patio sectional, Milo joining him seconds later. “Not too much, I guess. Just been in Vancouver for the last while playing for the Canucks.”

You can’t help but laugh at his comment. “Well I know that much, can’t exactly stay under the radar as a professional athlete.”

“I guess,” Brock chuckles. “What about you though, you seem to be staying under the radar pretty well.”

“Gotta keep a little mystery…or my life just isn’t that exciting, I don’t know. I got my degree, moved back to Minnesota and now I’m just working from home…living the life, really,” you joke. 

“I can’t imagine you not making life exciting.”

Rolling your eyes playfully you take a sip of your drink. “Why’s that? Because I used to steal my parent’s alcohol and try to convince everyone to go swimming in the middle of the night?”

“Well that was pretty exciting back then,” Brock laughs. 

“Are you out here alone?” you ask, looking towards the cabin. It was pretty quiet for anyone else to be here but you almost couldn’t imagine Brock ever being alone. 

“Yeah, for now,” Brock nods. “My, um, my mom doesn’t really come up very much anymore.”

“Right,” you say quietly. You hadn’t talked to Brock in a very long time, but that didn’t mean you didn’t know anything about his life, including his father. 

“I have a few friends coming up in a few days though,” Brock tells you, his inflection rising, an obvious attempt to change the topic. 

“Uh oh,” you joke with a playful smile. “Sounds like trouble.”

“Hey, now, I’ve never been trouble,” Brock defends, laughing under his breath. 

“I don’t know about that one,” you tease. 

The two of you sit on Brock’s deck, drink after drink as you exchanged stories from the nearly 10 years since the last time you saw each other. You didn’t even realize how long had passed or how late it had gotten till the sun was beginning to set and you realized your mind was hazy from the alcohol. 

“I guess I should get going, don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you say, finishing off the last of the drink you had in your hand. 

“You never could,” Brock tells you, taking the empty can from your hand as you stand up. “But I won’t hold you here either.”

“I appreciate that,” you laugh, glancing back to your cabin. “I should probably go figure out dinner though.”

“Fair enough,” Brock chuckles. “See you tomorrow?”

“I’m sure you will,” you tell him, heading down the steps of the deck and back over to your own house. 

After making yourself a late dinner you head to bed, your mind unable to think of much more than Brock. It was clear that your feelings for him hadn’t entirely disappeared. But eventually you manage to clear your mind enough to fall asleep, sleeping peacefully through the night till the sun shining through the blinds in your room wakes you up. 

You make yourself some breakfast before dragging your laptop out onto the deck with your mug of coffee to get some work done for the day. It’s not long before your attention is broken by the sound of Brock’s voice, calling after his dogs as they run out the door and towards the lake. 

Smiling you watch the dogs for a few minutes as they splash around in the shallow water of the lake. When you look away from them you see Brock looking in your direction, raising his hand in a friendly wave. 

“Morning,” you call to him, sitting up straighter to look over the edge of the patio railing as Brock comes closer. 

“How was your first night back out here?”

“It was great,” you tell him. “Do you want some coffee?”

Brock’s eyes shift to your laptop before looking back at you. “I don’t want to interrupt you if you’re working.”

Shrugging you push yourself away from the table to stand up. “I’ve been missing the interruptions you get working in an office anyway,” you tell him with a smile. “Do you want anything in it?”

“Some cream if you have it.” Brock makes his way up the steps of the deck, sitting down at the table across from you as you return with a mug of coffee for him. “Got any plans for after work?”

“Not really,” you tell him, sitting back down and looking over your laptop at him. 

“I just bought a couple stand-up paddle boards a few weeks ago. Would you want to come test them out with me?”

“As long as you promise not to laugh at me when I fall off.”

“I promise,” Brock chuckles. “You can get back to your work if you want, I don’t want to distract you.”

“Hard not to be distracted by you,” you tell him, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Well I’m always happy to be your distraction.”

After Brock finishes his coffee he heads back to his own place, giving you a chance to actually get some uninterrupted work time in. It’s nearly 5 when you wrap up everything you had to finish for the day. Changing out of the pyjamas you had spent the better half of the day in you tug a pair of shorts over a bikini, heading across the yard to Brock’s place. 

With the garage door wide open you step into it, watching Brock doing kettlebell swings. 

“Enjoying the view?” Brock asks, looking at you through the mirror when he finishes up his set. 

“Well I can’t say I’m not enjoying it,” you tell him, glancing around the garage turned gym. “This is pretty impressive, I remember when this place was filled with bikes and beach toys.”

Brock turns around to face you, wiping a layer of sweat from his forehead. “I needed to have something out here to train if I want to spend this long out here.”

“Makes sense. Well, I can get out of here to stop distracting you, when did you want to go out on the paddle boards?”

“I’m just finishing up here, I’ll probably go have a shower before we head out.”

“Do I get to enjoy that view too?” you joke. 

Brock chuckles, reaching down to pick up the kettlebell again. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

Shaking your head you take a step out of the garage. “I’ll meet you down at the beach when you’re ready.”

“Okay, see you in a bit,” Brock says as you head out of the garage. 

Finding a beach towel you head out onto the end of the dock that was connected to your yard, laying it out and shimmying out of your shorts. Laying down on your stomach you rest your head on your arms, enjoying the way the sun felt like a warm blanket cloaked over your body. 

It’s not long before you hear Brock calling your name and you roll onto your back, looking down to the end of the dock. 

“Ready to go?” Brock calls. 

Collecting your things from the dock you hurry down to meet Brock, following him to grab the paddle boards before heading to the edge of the lake. The water is surprisingly warm for July and you climb onto your paddle board with a shocking amount of ease. 

After steadying yourself the two of you begin to paddle along the shoreline, your conversation falling to quick comments here and there as you focus intensely on keeping yourself upright. By the time you make it back to the section of the lake in front of your house you’re more than ready to follow Brock’s lead and sit down on the board, floating easily on the still water. 

“You’re pretty good at this,” Brock tells you. 

Your legs are crossed in front of you, arms behind you on the board as you lean back into them. “Guess my balance is better than I expected.”

“I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get to see you fall in.”

“Oh, you want to see me get wet?” you joke.

“I-I, that’t…well, I mean, I-,” Brock stammers, shaking his head as he gives up on his sentence. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tease, giggling as you stretch your legs out in front of you. “What are your plans for tonight?”

Brock hesitates for a second, eyes narrowing. “Are you hinting at something?”

It takes you a moment to realize what was going on, reaching down and running your hand through the lake to splash Brock. “No,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I was going to see if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

“Oh,” Brock laughs, eyes diverting down to the surface of the lake, cheeks flushing red. “Yeah, dinner sounds great.”

After putting the paddle boards away you and Brock head over to your place, digging through the kitchen to try to figure out what to make for dinner. You hadn’t really thought through your plan, inviting Brock over before you even know what you would make for dinner. 

“You’ve been in the fridge for awhile,” Brock comments, sitting at the bar counter on the other side of the kitchen, watching you curiously. 

Sighing you turn around, shutting the door behind you. “I don’t actually know what to make,” you admit. 

“I can tell,” Brock laughs. “What are the options?”

“Whatever is in the fridge,” you tell him, gesturing to it. 

Brock slides off the stool, walking across the kitchen to pull the fridge open. His eyes scan the shelves for a few minutes before slowly turning towards you. “Do you need me to go to the grocery store for you tomorrow or something?”

Rolling your eyes you push yourself between Brock and the fridge, your back pressing against him as you join him in staring into the nearly empty fridge. “Look, I know it’s bad but I didn’t plan to stay more than a night or two.”

“And were you planning on only eating eggs and spinach for three days?”

“Maybe,” you hum. “I didn’t plan to have dinner guests I would need to impress.”

“You don’t need to impress me,” Brock whispers, his hands falling to your hips. “Now will you agree to come have dinner at my place instead?”

Your mind tunes in to the feeling of Brock’s hands on your body, your heart hammering heavily in your chest. While you were so caught up in your thoughts you realized you hadn’t answered the question within a length of time that was even remotely normal. “Uh, yeah, sure, that sounds good.”

Brock steps back, his hands falling from your hips and leaving your body longing for more. Sighing to yourself you fish a bottle of wine out from otherwise bare fridge, hurrying after Brock. 

It’s not long before you’re standing next to Brock, a glass of white wine in your hand while you watch him barbecue a couple steaks. “Was inviting me over just a scheme to get me to feel bad for you and cook you dinner?”

“I wish I was that calculated.” Bringing your glass to your lips you take a small sip, gravitating a little closer to Brock. “I like how this worked out though.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Brock teases, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. 

You let out a shaky breath, fingers clutching tighter onto your wine glass. With your heart racing you try to act natural, like your stomach wasn’t absolutely alive with butterflies, like your thoughts weren’t racing a million miles an hour about nothing but Brock. 

“You okay?” Brock asks, the smirk on his face was enough to tell you that he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

“Fuck off,” you laugh, shaking your head. “You’re so used to this aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Brock laughs, eyebrows furrowed as he looks away from the barbecue to turn his attention to you. 

“Tall, handsome hockey player who can get women to absolutely fall apart like it’s nothing,” you tease. 

“I’m not that tall,” Brock comments, pulling the steak off the barbecue. 

“Oh, but you know how handsome you are.” 

Brock gives you a simple shrug, chuckling as he picks up the plate of steak, letting you go to head back inside. Rolling your eyes you follow Brock back into the house, refilling your wine glass before leaning against the counter. 

“I’m actually surprised you don’t have a girlfriend,” you comment, watching Brock plate up the steak and salad the two of you had made earlier. 

“Why’s that?” Brock asks, setting the plates down on the table next to the large window that overlooks the lake. 

“I just told you why outside, you just want to hear me talk about how great you are,” you joke, sitting down at the table across from Brock. 

“Well I could say the same thing about you,” Brock retorts, switching the conversation around onto you. 

“Because I’m a tall, handsome hockey player?” you joke, taking another drink from your wine. 

Brock shakes his head with a breath of laughter. “Seriously, weren’t you with someone for quite awhile?” 

Nodding slowly you inhale deeply, polishing off what was left in your glass of wine. 

“That bad, hey?” Brock asks, reaching for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. 

“No…I mean, yeah, I guess, I don’t know,” you sigh, picking up your newly refilled glass. “We were together for three years in university.”

Brock nods, taking a bite of his dinner, evidently waiting for you to continue to fill in the details of your vague story. 

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you assure him with a breath of laughter. “I’m just glad it ended when it did.”

“For what it’s worth I’m pretty glad it ended as well.”

Scoffing you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head. “Why?” you ask, already well aware of why. 

“Well I don’t think I’d get to be sitting here having dinner with you right now if you were still with him.”

Tipping your head to the side you gaze across the table, a soft smile on your lips. “Does that mean there’s something more than friendly happening here, Brock?”

“I’ve had some more than friendly thoughts,” Brock admits. 

You can feel your cheeks reddening, looking down at the table. “Oh,” you mutter. 

“Sorry, I, was that too much or-.”

“No, no,” you interrupt, breathing out a nervous laugh. “Just, um, been awhile since I’ve flirted with anyone.”

“There’s no way that’s true.”

“Yes it is,” you exclaim, laughing quietly. “I honestly don’t meet a lot of new people and I don’t usually make it a habit of flirting with my friends.”

“I’m glad you made an exception.”

Laughing softly you pick up your glass of wine, taking another sip, enjoying the warm buzz the alcohol was filling you with. “Me too,” you whisper as you set it down, gazing over at Brock. 

Finally you two finish the dinner that had been nearly forgotten amidst the conversation. After the dishes are done you head out onto the deck to continue your conversation. Before long the sun is set and the bottle of wine is empty. After another goodbye that you know won’t be for long you head back to your own house, falling asleep easily to the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore through the open window. 

The next few days leading up to the weekend feel busier than any days you had in a long time. After work you would join Brock for some activity or another. A trip into town to properly stock your fridge. An evening on the boat. More paddle boarding and kayaking and even partaking in a couple sessions in Brock’s home gym. 

And before you knew it you had finished up your work from the week, time seeming to be flying by now that you were spending it with Brock. 

Friday night. You hadn’t expected your Fridays to remain as exciting after leaving the city. But you also didn’t expect to be spending it with Brock and a handful of his friends. 

“Still impressed with your Spikeball skills, to be honest,” Jack says, standing next to you by the fire, a bottle of beer in his hand. You had spent the afternoon fighting to keep up in many competitive rounds of Spikeball on the beach, something you did better than even you had expected you would do. 

“I’m kind of offended by how much you underestimated me,” you laugh. Lifting your red solo cup filled with tequila and grapefruit soda wincing at the flavour, the ratio of tequila to mixer so off it would make a bartender cry. 

“Sorry, I promise I won’t do it again,” Jack chuckles. “I’ll make sure we’re always on the same team from now on.”

“Good,” you say, extending your hand to shake his on the agreement. “We can be a power duo.”

“Power couple,” Jack comments with a smirk. 

Rolling your eyes playfully you take another gulp of your drink. “Pretty bold of you.”

“What can I say? I’m a bold guy.”

Before you can get another comment in you feel a hand run along your lower back, stopping on your waist. With a slight flinch you turn your head, body relaxing when you realize it was Brock, though you were still a little surprised by the physical contact. Brock places his fingers under your chin, tipping your head back so you were looking up at him. You don’t even have time to process what’s happening before he’s pressing a soft and quick kiss to your lips. 

“H-hi,” you stammer, voice soft as your cheeks redden. “What, um, what’s going on?”

“Just coming to check on you,” Brock whispers. 

“Shit, sorry man,” Jack mutters to Brock, nervous eyes shifting back to the fire you were all standing around. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Brock tells him dismissively. “Want to come with me to get another drink?” Brock asks you. 

With a quick nod you let Brock take your hand in his, guiding you around the fire and up into the quiet cabin. 

“Okay, what the fuck was that, Brock?” you exclaim, now in the privacy of the kitchen. 

“I-,” Brock begins, shaking his head. “Have I been reading this wrong? I thought…I thought…haven’t we been flirting since you got here?”

“I mean, yes,” you exhale. “But what the fuck was that? Why’d you choose that moment to kiss me?”

“I’m sorry,” Brock mumbles, swallowing heavily. “But you two were flirting and I didn’t want to lose you and I-.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him.” Stepping closer you reach up, your hands on either side of Brock’s face. “You have to trust that I would never do anything with your friends.” Rolling forward onto your toes you lean closer to Brock, your lips brushing against his. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Brock mutters before kissing you again. It’s longer this time, your lips moving with his as you wrap one arm around his shoulders. Brock runs one hand around your back, tugging your body closer as his tongue brushes against yours. He’s pushing you against the kitchen counter a second later, your head spinning with the mix of overwhelming emotions and the effects of the tequila. 

A strangled moan emanates from your throat just before you hear the crashing of the cabin door closing. Pulling back from Brock you stare up at him with a guilty smile, as if you were still just a couple teenagers sneaking around at the summer cabin. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Sam declares, taking a step back towards the door. 

“No, no, you’re good,” you assure him. “We were just, um, about to head back out.”

“Were we?” Brock asks, voice quiet as he places his hands on your hips, pulling your back into his chest. 

With a quiet giggle you tip your head back, looking up at Brock. “We can pick his back up later,” you assure him. 

Back outside you let Brock pull you onto his lap on one of the chairs around the fire. You knew it was some drunken, misplaced desire to exert the fact that there was indeed something happening between the two of you that was more than just friendly. 

The rest of the night is spent in loud conversations, rambunctious laughter echoing off the still lake. By the time the night is over and people begin trickling off to head inside you’re more than ready to have some time alone with Brock.

“I’m going to head home now, want to walk over there with me?” you ask Brock before standing up.

“Yeah, of course,” Brock replies taking your hand and walking back to your cabin. 

Inside you take Brock’s other hand, tugging him closer. “Do you want to spend the night here?” 

“Yes,” Brock replies quickly before pressing his lips to yours again, kissing you with an eagerness that you quickly matched. 

Before long the two of you had stumbled your way up to your room, the silence of the cabin being interrupted by the sounds of your moans.

Laying breathlessly next to Brock, your body flushed and tired, you can’t help but begin to worry about the implications of the situation. Was this just because you were both drunk? Did he really have feelings for you or was this all just because of the alcohol? 

After tugging some pyjamas on and using the bathroom you crawl back into bed with Brock, resting your head on his shoulder, arm over his chest. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course,” Brock hums, running his fingers along your back. 

“Do you, um…was this, I just,” you stammer, finally pulling yourself away from him, sitting up and staring across the dark room at the slice of moonlight that was shining on the wall through the curtains. “Was this just a meaningless hook-up? Because I actually have feelings for you,” you admit. 

You feel Brock run his hand along your back, fingers curling around your waist as he tugs you back to lay next to him. “No, it wasn’t,” he assures you, kissing your temple before you settle in next to him. “I was so into you when we were growing up. Every summer since high school I’ve hoped you would show up again.”

“I don’t believe you,” you giggle. “I had the biggest crush on you back then, you can’t steal my story,” you tease. 

“Back then?” 

Rolling your eyes you reach over and take his hand, squeezing it gently. “Still do.”

“Good,” Brock chuckles. 

And just like that the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that quickly turns to a deep sleep. After that first night together the two of you grew closer, no longer just spending the days together but the nights as well. 

Every morning you would wake up next to Brock, often going for a walk with the dogs before you would have breakfast together. Then you would spend the majority of the day working at your place. After you were done your work for the day you would head over and join Brock for dinner. 

For the next month and a half everything felt easy and fun. The daily stress you normally felt when you were back at your apartment had almost dissipated entirely. You grew closer and closer with Brock, falling more and more for him with each passing day. Time had begun to slip by faster and faster, till the majority of the summer was now in the past and you were getting closer and closer to the day where the cabins would be shuttered as everyone returned to the real world. 

Laying on your couch you stare out through the large window at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. The summer was coming to an end whether you wanted to admit it or not and the grey sky was doing its part to remind you of that. Brock’s car was already packed, his place was tidied and ready for his departure. 

You have your head on Brock’s chest, your arm draped over his stomach. He’s running his hand along your back and with each passing second you begin growing closer to tears. You didn’t want to admit how much it felt like your chest was being ripped apart.

Sniffling quietly you try to blink away the tears in your eyes before Brock could notice. But you weren’t as secretive as you had hoped. “Are you okay?” Brock whispers.

Nodding you lift your head from his chest, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Brock assures you, waiting for you to go on.

“I just don’t want this to end,” you admit. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t either.” Brock wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” you mumble, shuffling in your seat to face him. Taking one of Brock’s hands in yours you give it a quick squeeze, glossy eyes staring across the small distance between you and Brock. 

“Because I never meant to hurt you.” Brock reaches over, brushing away a few of the tears that had spilled from your eyes onto your cheeks. 

“You didn’t mean to hurt me, Brock. I know you didn’t,” you assure him with a quick sniffle, eyes gazing down at your interlocked fingers. “I would rather be hurt now than to never have had this summer with you.”

Brock leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I just wish we had more time.”

“Me too,” you whisper, lifting your eyes to look back up at him. “Maybe we can next summer.”

Brock nods slowly, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Next summer,” he echoes as a tear slides down your cheek no longer caring enough to wipe them away, no longer fighting the sadness in your heart. Because the pain was going to happen whether you wanted it or not. But maybe, just maybe, the promise of next summer would be enough to help you deal with the sadness. 

[deluweil]

So I’m just a spectator for your fandom. I don’t watch the show nor care too not really my taste. And a part of me honestly thinks you’re still being baited by the show. Be that as it may I still think you all have a very good chance of going canon and it’s based on one fact, Buck and Eddie have not had a true serious love interest since in bucks case when the show started and in Eddie’s case 5 years ago.

I’m going to cite three examples of popular “queerbait” ships that were never going to happen because of what I pointed out above.

Swan Queen - a fanon ship between Emma swan and the evil queen regina. Emma’s actual love interest Captain Hook was introduced in s2 and you can tell that was the route they were going on so they never truly made any remarks or showed in the show that SQ ever had a chance.

Merthur - now for this one I personally do absolutely believe they were queerbaited especially cause the endgame romance didn’t hold a candle to merthur. Be that as it may the character that ended married to one part of the ship was introduced in the first season and was a main character. The actual romance did not start till season two.

Mcdonno - the one that buddie is compared to. The best friends from Hawaii 5-0 that much like buddie were always there for each other and were each others deepest relationships. However one half of McDanno was involved in a will they won’t they romance with a character named Catherine since season 1. And this relationship was up and down for 10 seasons until they got together in the end. This was another thing of shippers getting their hopes knowing full well who someone was gonna be paired with but they got their hopes up and dashed. McDonno never stood a chance because of Catherine.

now notice the trend all these have that buddie does not? A serious love interest introduced in the first seasons of a show. Has not happened to buddie and right now we are in the middle of season 6. It is way too late to introduce a serious love interest for either one of these men and the audience just accept it. It would be poorly written, forced and unnecessary and there will be huge backlash. They had three seasons at least to introduce buck and Eddie with serious endgame love interests. Hell they both had relationships I believe in s4 and by s5 both relationships ended so again I ask…it’s way too late to do anything but buddie.

Look, I'm not particularly fond of the term queerbaiting, but your ask is interesting so I had to respond.

I personally never watched once upon a time, so I can't comment on that.

But I have watched Merlin, and it was pretty clear from the beginning that merthur will stay a fanon only thing. We all knew where this will end and there was no real chance for merthur to begin with.

Mcdanno, God, they fit so well. They were the very definition of old married couple. But this would never have turned canon either, because Steve right off the bat was introduced as "Uncle Steve." And the amount of "pal" and "Brother" were used so often that it was clear that this was going to stay fanon too. (So sad though)

Especially with the amount of times we saw both Steve and Danny have serious LIs throughout the show, not to mention the mythological significant others (Rachel and Catherine) that kept popping up. - I am still unbelievably upset with the fact that after all the times Cath screwed Steve over, the writers decided to bring her back for that last scene. So no "queerbaiting" there either.

Now, as for buddie, I agree with you that at this point, their only play is buddie endgame, for all the reasons you listed and more. Buck was never uncle Buck, brother was uttered one time only, and that was at the very beginning, and Buck is somehow "his Buck" (Eddie’s words when referring to Christopher’s presence at Buck’s loft). - Not to mention that unlike Steve and Danny, they very rarely talked to each other about their current gfs.

They indeed both had LIs but it was weak at most, no real connection, no smile inducing build up to a good relationship scenes, nothing. - I get my hetero "I believe in young love" thrill from other shows lol

I mean in both Station 19 and Chicago fire, even when I shipped a character with someone else, the writers made us like the current relationship, by endearing it to us.

It doesn't happen in 911. All women were a poor imitation of the real deal.

So is there a chance showrunners are screwing us over? Maybe.

Is it going to make me stop believing that buddie can and will happen? Absolutely not.

A little anecdote: I was watching 3x09, the famous kitchen scene, and my younger cousin, who never in his life watched that show, turned to me and asked: "Are they together?"

So, if a complete stranger can make that immediate deduction based on one scene, I'd say I like our odds.

[1d1195]

Oh didn’t expect you to be a Liam girl at first?! But honestly your logic at the time makes total sense hahah I can TOTALLY get going through phases! I mean who can TRULY choose between all of them like I don’t blame you! And it’s so FUN having celebrity crushes!! I support having a lot of them😌

I do remember you mentioning it! And I simply cannot even begin to even WANT to start Grey’s! So many people have recommended it to me but like I SIMPLY CANNOT EVEN THINK TO CARVE TIME FOR THAT😭 I simply missing out and I’m okay with that lol

I truly don’t know how I did it either lol but omg that teacher is so nice! Because it’s so confusing sometimes and sometimes all we can do is like fake it till we make it lol but seriously who tf is calling coffee “cup of joe” like ???? But now I’m so behind on slang since I’m not on tiktok that I’ve had to ask my brother what certain phrases mean 😭 like “hitting the gritty” or “rizz” was so confusing when I first heard it! plus I don’t interact with teens unless I volunteer and even then I’m so confused lol I find it hilarious that you do that to your students omg HAHA

I’ve only really traveled to Mexico, Vegas and other parts of California lol I want to travel a bit too but tbh idk what other parts I would visit and I need to have money for that HAHA and I hurt my leg a couple weeks ago(have no idea how tbh) and my neck has been KILLING ME for like a week so I go there for a therapeutic massage! And yeah depending on how the massage is done and the areas focused on your body can feel sore. So it just depends!

LAVA GIRL WAS NOT THE VIBE I WAS LOOKING FOR😭 I mean I don’t hate it and it’s not the exact color of lava girl but it’s close enough lol but I’m okay I guess now lol wait now I must know what is your fave from the Mexican bistro?! You mentioned before that your food pallet is tricky ( same tbh) so what’s your go to?!

Hope you’ve had a lovely start to your weekend!!! What show are you rewatching? Is it still any good? Hope you’re having the loveliest time!!-💜

Tbh at this point in time I would not recommend Greys. Or maybe only watch a few seasons of it. Or random episodes. There are no rules. Anything past season 16 though is a no from me. I'm tired of it and none of the characters are the same.

I have former students that graduated that I'm close with and I literally text them and ask what words and phrases mean. Keeps me young lolll

At this particular bistro I got pollo de flautas (however I pointed at the menu for the waitress so I didn't embarrass myself) but they're my fave. They come with guac and street corn it's just really good. It's actually like on the edge of too spicy for me? I really don't like spicy food unfortunately. It just makes my mouth hurt and I don't find it enjoyable or tasty lolll

I'm rewatching Manifest. It's good. I'm irritated with one of the characters but nonetheless. I heard the last two seasons I didn't watch didn't really hold up so not looking forward to that hahaha

xoxo

[aestheticpearl]

Can you do one and they surprise Y/N by coming home early from a mission? Xx

hello again my love, i apologize for how long this took forgive me <3

— ‘oh you’re back…YOU’RE BACK!’

characters. rooster, hangman, phoenix, bob, payback, fanboy, coyote

themes. fluff

[summary] they surprise you by coming home early from their deployment

[warnings] not proof read (i’m lazy)

❥ bradley “rooster” bradshaw

it had been a whole day since bradley had last texted you and he had missed your routine phone call that is always scheduled for seven so needless to say you were worried. you texted him asking if he meant to miss the phone call and he only responded a hour later with ‘busy.’ which provided no comfort whatsoever.

you were doing your best to distract yourself by folding laundry when you came across one of his old sleep shirts. it was a concert tee that he had gotten at the first concert you went to as a couple, you could help but stare at it for a little too long when your eyes started pooling with tears. gosh why is being always from him is long still so hard? you should be use to it.

“we should go to another one of their concerts, i still really like their music” you know that voice, you body moves on it’s own as you turn away to see him standing there smiling like an absolute idiot at you in the doorway.

“surprise!” he drops his bag and opens his arms for you and you happily run into him, only crying a little totally not sobbing. “aww baby you miss me that much?”

“you missed our scheduled phone call you dick” you laughs at your remark.

“i was hoping this would make up for it”

“only a little” he shakes his head and holds your face in his hands while you kisses you.

“i missed you”

“okay you’re forgiven” you are a sucker for coming home kisses.

❥ jake “hangman” seresin

exhausted didn’t even begin so describe how you felt after your shift at work, it’s like there isn’t even a busy season it’s just always busy. you open the front door after struggling with the lock for longer than you care to admit, it’s empty since jake is still deployed over seas. you throw your bag and jacket on the couch and it responds with an oof.

“shh i have a headache” you responded without thinking too tired to register that your couch just talked— well made sound not really talked per say. wait couches don’t talk. “wait..”

“did you just shush me?” jake asks turning on the light next to the couch. you turn around and try to process the fact that he’s here in the house like right now with you not over seas. you run to him and basically pin him down to the couch with your body as you hug him tightly.

“you’re home. you’re here like actually here” you say burying your face into his neck.

“thought it would be a nice surprise. i’m a little concerned on how long it took you to register that someone was in the house though.”

“long day, you’ve made it so worth it”

“aww pumpkin” he kisses you gently while you hold his face. “i missed you too”

❥ natasha “phoenix” trace

you never realize how much you hang out with someone till they’re gone and you know that sounds like natasha is dead, but she might as well be she you don’t get to see her. honestly it sucks having an amazing pilot as a girlfriend cause she’s always busy when deployed cause she’s the best. curse her incredible skill and hard work.

as sappy as it sounds you love looking through your photos with her when she’s away, sure it makes you feel sad but also makes you look forward to seeing her again. when she’s away you like to try to plan a date for when she gets home and when she told you that she’d be coming home in a couple of months you wanted to getting started sooner rather than later.

so after you come home from your quick trip to the store you find natasha standing in the house with flowers in hand smiling that beautiful smile right at you and at first you’re truly too stunned to speak.

“surprised much?” she places the flowers down on the table beside her. “i just missed you so much i had to come home early” you’re still in shock, then you snap yourself out of it and run into her arms.

“i am so surprised, i missed you so much”

you hugs her tightly and you both fall into a comfortable silence once she kisses the side of your head. until you break it with a gasp.

“i didn’t have time to get all the ‘welcome home’ date stuff” she laughs.

“i can wait a little longer for the ‘welcome home’ date”

❥ robert “bob” floyd

bob is awful at keeping secrets and even worse at executing surprises but he was determined to have this surprise for you be successful, so much so that he had natasha get you out of the house just a little so he could set up flowers he bought down the street and some romantic candles.

you were a tiny bit confused on why natasha asked you to go grocery shopping with her but you had nothing else to do and you love her company so you didn’t mind in the end. little did you know that natasha had to make up an excuse to get you out of the house for at least and hour or two so bob could set up and the first thing that came to her mind was grocery shopping. she didn’t need to go grocery shopping yet here she was standing with you in the produce section wondering which apples to get.

“so granny smith? no no macintosh” you roll your eyes. you love hanging out with natasha but she was really hung up on which apple to buy and it had almost been a half hour.

“nat, it’s an apple”

“okay but they’re all so different” she replies back praying in the back of her mind that bob is almost done and by the grace of the almighty she receives a text for the all clear.

“you know you’re right this is a waste of time who needs food let’s go” she takes your arm and drags you out of the store entirely to your surprise.

“wait what i thought you needed to—”

“let me bring you home” you are baffled at your friends out of character actions but let her do her thing anyhow. when you get home your jaw is on the floor with everything that bob has set up.

“ta da! how’d i do? i kept a secret for once.” he smiles at you happily. you run into his arms and hug him tightly.

“oh my god baby you actually surprised me” he laughs and kisses you gently while waving off phoenix who was standing in the doorway.

❥ reuben “payback” fitch

reuben wanted to see how long you could go without noticing that he was home, not one of his brightest ideas really specially since you had just watched a horror movie the previous night.

he arrived back early in the morning and unlocked the door to your house quietly and went to the hall closet to put his things out of sight so you wouldn’t see them and instantly realize he was home. before long he heard you wake up start to make your way downstairs. he carefully placed down some flowers in the kitchen table and hide behind the door.

you woke up with an awful headache and just felt in your bones that today wasn’t going to be good, nevertheless you walked downstairs to the kitchen to make some breakfast alone. being half asleep you didn’t even notice the roses placed on the table until you turned around and reuben was behind you.

the scream you let out could’ve broken glass.

“baby baby relax it’s just me!”

“REUBEN!” you tried to calm your breathing. “i am going to kill you”

“i’m sorry i’m sorry!” he feels awful but he can’t help but laugh at your reaction a bit. “baby i’m sorry” his hand takes yours as you scowl at him. he kisses your cheek multiple times while apologizing.

“you are so lucky that i missed you”

❥ mickey “fanboy” garcia

believe it or not mickey decided against surprising you in a big way, he was far too tired. when mickey got home to you it was very late at night and he just wanted to hold you. placing his bag quietly down on the edge of the bed, he stripped off his uniform and glances over to you sleeping soundly in bed.

“my love” he whispers softly has you feel him climb into bed with you.

“mickey?” your voice is scratchy then you expected.

“hey baby” he pulls you into his arms. “i’m sorry i took so long” he kisses the side of your head and then your nose.

“i missed you”

“i missed you too, now go back to sleep you can process that i’m here in the morning”

“mmm okay” you feel sleep take hold of you once again as you close your eyes. you think about how mickeys finally home and a warmth spreads across your chest. he’s home with you.

you move your hand to hold mickeys and squeeze it gently before kissing it softly. he chuckles quietly.

“goodnight honey”

❥ javy “coyote” machado

“javy?”

“ta da!” javy stands in the doorway with his arm opened.

“javy!” you shout booking it across the living room into his opened arms. “you’re back so early!”

“i wanted to surprise you of course” he squeezes you tightly and takes in your scent.

“you smelling me again weirdo?”

“..no” you laugh at his hesitation. javy has always had this weird thing about how you smell, he says it’s comforting and he wishes it was a candle that he could light. you call him a weirdo.

“you weirdo!”

“okay okay, yes but i missed you and you smell amazing!” you chuckle at him.

“i missed you too” he pulls away to look at you and moves some hair out of your face to kiss you gently. his kisses always have made you feel weightless. gosh you missed his kisses so much and him i guess.

before you can be completely lost in your own thoughts javy scoops you up to take you to the bedroom so you can show him how much you truly missed his kisses.

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

[sunarinsbubs]

Ready? Action!

Act one: just the beginning

pairing >> actor!suna x actress!y/n

warnings >> none, just rin being in love

taglist >> open; comment or send an ask to be tagged :)

sunarinsbubs note >> ahhhh!! the first oneshot! i‘m very excited to publish this, but also not really sure if it‘s good. i‘m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, i didn’t have anyone to proofread it. (i did it myself but eh) hope y‘all still like it and let me know about your thoughts/opinions!

art credits >> salgoolulu

series masterlist

„Kaori and I made up yesterday and she told she‘s still in love with me.“ he says as you both lay on his bed.

The bed that held so many memories; from childhood till adulthood you both always slept together on this bed. It was your safe space. But not anymore.

After you heard what he said, you immediately turned your body towards him; making eye contact with the person you loved the most.

„what?“ you whispered. It felt so unreal. They weren’t together anymore. She ended the relationship herself and told him that she wasn’t in love with him; never was in the first place. So why now?

Why now after all these months? Why now after you had to heal his broken heart? Why now after you fell in love with him and couldn’t imagine a world without him? Why?

You didn’t even realize that you were crying, when you felt a cold hand holding your cheek; wiping your tears away.

„No, I‘m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry &-“

„CUT!“ the director, Kiyoshi Oagawa, yelled. „Suna, that‘s not your line! We‘re doing this for the third time now!“ he yelled again.

It was another exciting day on the set, where Rin and you were filming for season 2 of the romance drama you were both playing for.

The only new thing? Rin‘s character and yours had to go through an emotional rollercoaster this season and eventually end it for good.

The second new thing? This is first time for you and Rin to film a scene for over three times.

You both immediately sit up after hearing the director yell. It wasn’t normal for the nice director to yell. He was always patient, so this was new to you and Rin.

You turned your head to look at Suna, who was already looking at you with a soft gaze. You squeezed his hand under the blanket and stood from the bed to talk to the director.

„Kiyoshi, can I please talk to you? In private?“ you asked with a small smile. You were both good friends so it was normal for you to call him by his first name.

„No, we don’t have the time for it. You can say it here in front of everyone, y/n.“ he answered with a glare directed toward the man sitting on the bed.

Oh, so he was really mad.. He never really denied you anything but you understood his bad mood.

„I understand why you‘re so mad today, but you can’t let it out on Suna. This is the first time he has ever made a mistake which has led us to film a scene for three time. You have to understand, that not only you, but we all have bad days. So please let me talk to Suna somewhere private, so we can find the reason as to why he‘s not concentrated today.“ you told Kiyoshi with a frown on your face.

He looked taken aback by your outburst (not really outburst because you didn’t yell but still). Kiyoshi sighed softly and looked at Suna who was staring at you.

„I‘m really sorry for lashing out on you, Suna. She‘s right, you rarely make mistakes, but today was a hard day and I-“ he got cut off by Suna.

„It‘s okay, don’t worry about it“ Rintarou said softly. He knew it was a stressful day for everyone and he felt really embarrassed by doing such a dumb mistake.

Kiyoshi nodded and returned the smile, „We will stop for today. Y‘all can go back to your rooms. I‘m sorry for taking my anger out on you.“ he bowed and walked away.

You looked back at Suna and smiled at his red cheeks that were even visible from so far away. You walked toward the bed where Suna was still sitting and took his larger hand in yours.

„C‘mon, let‘s go somewhere private.“ he took your smaller hand in his and you both started walking to the changing rooms.

The changing rooms of you and Suna were in front of each other, so you stopped walking when you were in the middle of the two rooms.

„Rin, are you okay?“ you asked. „Mhm, I‘m fine, baby. Don’t worry about me.“ he answered while playing with your hand.

Suna Rintarou, the hottest and best looking actor in the country (that‘s what his fans called him) & Y/N L/N, the most beautiful and kindest actor in the country (that’s what your fans called you) were secretly dating.

No one apart from the people on the set, friends and family knew of their relationship, even though they were dating for over two years.

Why didn’t they know? Because fans were crazy & dramatic and the media was nosy, so it was for the best to keep the relationship a secret.

„So, why weren’t you focused today? It‘s not like you to forget your lines, babes.“ you muttered while stroking his cheek for comfort with your free hand.

Suna sighed. He couldn’t just tell you. It was so embarrassing and childish. But he found comfort in your hand stroking his cheek, so he spoke without realizing.

„It‘s just that I can’t see you cry. It makes my heart ache and I can’t stomach the idea of you being hurt because of something stupid I‘ve said. I hate it when you cry.“ he whispered and while talking he brought his head on your shoulder and very slowly nuzzled it in your neck, inhaling your scent.

The butterflies in your stomach weren’t helping with their flattering. Your face slowly turned red and your lips formed into a beautiful, shy smile. You took his head off your shoulder and held his pretty face between your hands, brushing his hair out of his face with your fingertips.

„Really, Rin?“ you laughed softly, „You know it’s all fake, right? We are not going to break up in real life and you are not making me cry for real. It‘s all just an act, babes.“ you looked into his gorgeous eyes while talking.

Suna felt like dying. literally. He was going to melt on the spot with how you were holding his cheeks in your small hands, brushing his hair out of his face and looking into his eyes with so much love. He couldn’t handle it.

„I know, I know. I‘m so sorry for ruining everyone’s day and adding more stress.“ he whispered.

You started kissing every inch of his face and he knew this was your way of telling him that everything is fine and he shouldn’t worry so much, so he relaxed.

More kissing and more kissing till you reached his pouty, pink lips. Still holding his face in your hands you kissed his beautiful lips slowly, putting so much love into the kiss and without using words, suna understood what you meant. I‘m always by your side

Pulling away from the kiss you looked into his eyes, „You will never be the reason for my sad tears, Rin. Just happy tears.“

I don’t deserve her.. „I love you so much.“

„I love you more, Rin“

And just with a few sweet words and a few kisses, Suna Rintaoru felt calm and stopped worrying. Believing in you and the word you said. Everything is going to be okay. It‘s all just an act.

With more confidence and no worrisome, he did pretty well the next day. The scene only took one try and Kiyoshi tried to suppress his smile because he knew all too well as to why THE Suna Rintarou was in a good mood.

But god help us when Rin‘s character and yours have to break up in the ending , because this was just the beginning.

taglist: @van-chii @fairywriter-oracle @ur-moms-car

Friday, 25th February 2022; 11:22pm

[slashingdisneypasta]

Total Drama Villains x Reader || Drabble Set

Plot: You forget to take a towel to the shower and only realise after the shower, so you open the window to stick your head out and ask whoever's out there (Hoping someone is out there) to grab you one but to your chagrin- there's just a villain.

Includes: Chris, Heather, Mal and Scott.

Warnings: Mmmm, I dont think so. Swearing? A kiss?

~~~

All:

You slowly look around the room, very very aware of the fact that you're naked and cold in a room that does not have a great lock on it. "Ohhhhhh no." The words come out low and steady... but are just brimming with panic.

No. Towel.

No towel!!

Finally you gasp, covering the bottom half of your face with your hands and looking at the benches and the sinks in dread. You accidentally came in here without a towel!!

The sudden sound of footsteps out the back of the cabin rips a gasp from your throat and you lunge at the window, unlatching the lock and opening it to see who it is. Before you even stick your head out, you're calling for whoever it to stop. Please. Hold on! I need your help!

Chris McLean:

*You are an adult camper.

When you actually see who's standing out there, you groan. Chris McLean stands outside on the grass, hands in his pockets and an intrigued look in his eyes. He know's he's about to be amused, or he's going to amuse himself depending on what kind of trouble you're in- or what kind of help you apparently need.

"What's up?~"

"Nevermind."

"Oh no no no! Come on, you can confide in Uncle Chris, cant you?"

A whine tumbles out of you. Uncle Chris?? Grooooooooss. He see's and acknowledges your disgusted reaction to him calling himself that, but just giggles. He doesn't leave, to your utter annoyance.

What other choice do you have?? Rolling your eyes, you look down at your feet instead of meeting his beady eyes and wiggle your toes. And mutter suuuuper quietly, half hoping he doesn't hear you. "I forgot to bring a towel... and I really need one... " And, this part you say especially quietly. For seriously asking Chris fucking McLean for a hand would be akin to letting your dignity pack its bags and fly the coop. "... and would you please get one for me... "

"... Sorry, I didn't catch that. What didja say?"

Oh god. A little louder, you say shortly. "... I forgot a towel... "

Chris smirks at that, rolling back on the feels of his feet. "And? What would you like from me, Y/N?"

Finally too frustrated to keep playing this stupid game with the show's host, you snap your eyes up to his and cross your arms. "Fine! Damnit. Get me a towel, please."

Immediately, a cat like grin slowly spreads across Chris' face. Its the most evil thing you have ever seen.

"Now why would I do that when I could get Chef here to send in a buncha rabid bats with you and flush you out?" Christ teases - no, threatens. But then again, does he know the difference in the first place? - , that famous, alabaster white, terror instilling grin on his face as usual. "Now that's, good TV!"

You groan, head falling back on your neck, in frustration. "Chrr-ris!!"

"Ha ha! Well? What do you expect?" You cant argue with that, but you cans till groan again. "Okay, fine. I'll get you a towel! But what will you do for me, heh? Nothing comes for free."

"Oh, don't I know it. I've been on this show for 3 seasons now." For some reason.

"Heh heh."

"Fine, I'll... " Ugh, something for Chris... You blow air out of your cheeks slowly, in thought. What would Chris like? Well, he'd sure get kick out of you getting one of your friends hurt but that's sure as hell not happening. Finally, after a few moments, you get an idea. And scowl. "I'll be sure to drum up some drama for you. Good TV, right?"

"For sure! Promise?~"

Sighing, you lean tiredly on the window sill. "Oh, I cross my heart and hope to die." You promise him like he's a child, which he basically is. Chris McLean has got the maturity level and the intelligence package of a 7 year old on crack.

"Wicked! Heh heh, this'll be good. Okay, hang tight. I'll be back."

You smirk at his retreating back.

~

When he finally gets back and hands you a towel - a much nicer towel then what you and the other campers have been using. Which is nice? But also, you cant help but worry about what kind of strings might be attached to it, - through a crack in the door, you carefully wrap it around your body and tightly tuck it in.

"I'll want that towel back" He snaps, cranky. Why?? He could've just gone and gotten you your towel! "I imported that from Fiji!"

Of course he did.

Now you take a deeeeeeep breath, gathering all your courage, and killing the butterflies reeking havoc in your stomach. Then open the door again and grab hold of the front of Chris' signature teal shirt and wrench him close before he can walk too far off.

And you smash your lips together and slam your eyes tightly closed.

When you pull back from the kiss - a horrible, unpleasant, bad kiss, - you immediately wipe your mouth with your arm and let him go. But when you reveal your mouth again, you're for damn sure smirking at the stunned man. "Is that dramatic enough for you, Chris? A camper and the host? Scandalous- I bet we'll be front page news."

Then quickly you lock yourself inside the bathroom again, not really caring for his reaction- which only comes, finally, minutes later when you're half way dressed.

"DAMN IT Y/N!!"

Heather:

"Hm." Heather crosses her arms, an evil smirk on her lips- opportunity has knocked on her door. Or, the inside of the shower cabin. "You need something from me. Well! What will you do for me return? Hm?"

As expected. "I will vote for whoever you want me to at 2 different instances of your choice going forward. Except for myself, I wont vote myself out."

She thinks for a moment, but definitely looks pleased. "Three, different instances of my choice."

Fucks sake- "Fine! Just- please! I'm getting cold and one of the boys could come in here at any time and see me butt ass naked!!"

Uncrossing her arms and setting her hands on her hips instead, Heather laughs. "Oh- one of these boys? Shower? Haha. Have you smelled them??"

You blush darkly at her joking with you; At your worry but not your expense, before shaking your head of silly feelings and usher the pretty girl Heather, forward. "Go! Go! Get my towel already."

"Be right back." She rolls her eyes, heading off.

~

When she gets back, she reaches up to the window with the towel and you gratefully take it, beginning to dry off any drips from your body and get dressed as quickly as possible. "Thank you Heather!!"

"Mhm, yeah. Sure."

A few minutes later when you leave the door, Heather's waiting for you on the porch and you basically have a small stroke- jesus christ, why is she there!? STILL!?

"Oh, relax. I'm just cashing in some of your part of the bargain." She sneers, walking closer to you and pressing a sharp fingernail into your chest. "Dont forget, you owe me now."

"I remember Heather, we did this like 10 minutes ago."

"Good." She smiles, a tint of evil to it still. Pleasantly surprised that you're being so obedient. She leans back. "Okay, so Gwen's got to go. You got that? She's out. Vote for her and you're third done with your debt to me."

"Yes ma'am." You smirk, brushing by her and stalking off back to your cabin to put away your things.

Heather watches, hands on her hips and her own smirk on her lips. You might just be useful out of this bunch of losers. Not quite a diamond in the rough, but... better, at least. For sure. "Hm."

Mal:

"Oh- Mike!" You exclaim excitedly as soon as you see the lanky, dark haired boy. What luck!!

But then he slowly turns around; A dark, sinister grin on his face and hair over one eye. And your heart immediately drops.

This is not Mike. Neither is it Chester, Svetlana, Vito or Manitoba- any of which would have been just fine alternatives for this moment.

This has to be fucking Mal. You've met him before, and absolutely nevermind on the luck front.

"Nope." Yep- the grizzly, deep voice that responds to you can belong to no one other then Mike's chaotic evil alter. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You continue to chant curses in your head as he turns around fully and comes forward, looking up with evil glinting in his eyes at you like a twisted Flynn Rider to your Rapunzel.

The kind that makes you rather stay inside your tower- its safer here then out there with him. You don't go out to meet the rabid pit bull!!

"Ummm, nevermind! Go about your business, I'm fine here. See ya!"

"Oh no. What'd you want from little Mikey?" He asks, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side, cruelly inquisitive. You chew on your bottom lip. Damn it; You've peaked his interest. Fuck.

"Um... " The sound comes out quiet and insure as you look down at the grass before his feet instead of his face. You're so nervous. "Well, I... I forgot my towel before I took my shower, and uh... I was just gonna ask him if he could go get me one."

For a moment, he's silent. Your gaze flickers up to his face to see an utterly wolfish look on his face, eyes gleaming with mischief before averting your eyes again to the grass.

Then a loud puff of hard, unpleasant laughter escapes him. He doubles over, holding his stomach as he guffaws at your embarrassing situation. You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

"Oh shut up," You snap, bravely- making him cut off his laughter immediately and look at you. You dare to fucking talk to him like that? "Come on, go get me a towel, please!! I'll owe you one."

After a moment, he stands up straight again and crosses his arms. Yes, he could do something horrible to you right now to teach you not to talk back to him; but it looks like you're going to struggle without his help. All he has to do is watch! "Hmm, nope!"

"Come on!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Ugh." You groan, leaving the window and Mal and plopping down on a bench. Fucking bastard.

This is so awkward. Especially since you know he's still out there!! And he could send someone in at any time.

... Minutes later, and you're still dripping wet but now freezing fricken cold, a towel is flung in through the still open window and lands on the wet floor near your feet. Your eyebrows fly up your forehead, as you look from it in surprise and to the window.

Mal's voice calls through it. "There! Its no fun if you just sit and bear your punishment." Huff. You can just imagine the cute boy - the look works for Mike, but is just very odd on Mal, - crossing his arms and setting his jaw, or even pouting. His voice just sound sooo frustrated. "I'll get you another time, anyway. Everyone will go down, eventually."

"Oh... mhm, oh sure." I mean, I can at least listen to his evil babble since he got me a towel, you think as you start drying yourself down and getting dressed.

A moment after you've got your shirt on, the door is kicked open and Mal stands on the threshold, making you jump. "Jesus christ!- "

"Kiss thank you?"

"Get outta here!" Absolutely not!

Scott:

Peering out from the window, you nearly miss the boy leant up against the cabin beneath you, in fact you would have- if it weren't for his bright orange hair. You gasp, unintentionally getting his attention and smiling brightly when he looks up to find you. "Scott!"

A confused, yet somehow still evil expression paints his face. "Y/N?? What are you doing?"

"Well farm-boy, how do you feel about giving a lady a hand??"

Scott snorts, getting off the wall and stepping back to see you properly. "Lady? I don't see any lady here."

Oh- Bastard. You look back into the bathroom before disappearing from the window for a moment before returning, and promptly clobbering him with an empty shampoo bottle. "You see her now!?"

"Ugh... yeah." He grumbles more malleably now, much more open to suggestion as he rubs his forehead. "Sure, now I see her... ow."

Now you feel a little bad. He looks so pitiful when he's in pain... and yes he's a rat but... its still not okay to hurt someone. You aren't Chris. And also you're getting colder and colder as the water drips unimpeded down your skin and maybe its making you soft. "Ohh... okay, I'm sorry."

He glances up at you, surprised at your apology. "Ahh, no problem, I guess... " Did someone just apologise for whacking him on this show? He crosses his arms, raising a curious look to your disembodied head. "Uhh, what'd you need a hand, with?"

"I... kinda... forgot a towel... could you please go get one for me??"

For a moment you watch his eyes narrow and a wicked grin flicker at the corners of his mouth and get anxious that he's going to ask for something in return- before he rolls his eyes and just shrugs, turning and heading off to the cabin. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Be right back- try not to gather too much attention, haha."

As he walks off, you duck under the window again, sighing in so much relief. "Thanks, Scott!"

~

When he returns, you're waiting at the door and crack it open just enough to get the towel from him immediately- which you quickly wrap around yourself comfortably and sigh. "Thank you so much!"

"Hm. No problem." He huffs, wondering why the hell he did this for you anyway and crossing his arms again.

From inside, you carefully ask: "Are you gonna get weird if I hug you now?"

Immediately Scott's ears go bright red and he quickly loses every little bit of cool-guy vibe from a moment ago. "I-In your towel?? N-No!! I mean- yes!" He rubs the back of his neck, looking away from the door like its you, or he'll accidentally spontaneously develop x-ray vision and damnit, he's a gentleman. "I mean... " Or at least he tries to be.

Grinning, because Scott's unexpectedly cute now that you've flustered him, you quickly open the door, hug him quick, then close the door again and shout 'BYE'.

[amikoroyaiart]

KENOBI SPOILERS

I loooooved when Reva tried to interrogate Leia but Leia outsmarted her. She got so damn frustrated at a 10 yo it made me laugh. And when she thought she got her Leia piled out the “but I need to tell my father first” and Reva almost lost it. Tala is in my top 10 fav characters now. The way she talked down to that security guard made me love her even more. She made him back off and it looked like something straight out of a fanfic (actually I was reading that kind of fanfic earlier today). When Obi Wan got to the secure sector I was so scared that we were gonna find out that actually Quinlan is dead and not alive like they made us believe. Would that be cruel to us fans, sure. Would the directors do it, probably. And when Obi paused looking shocked at the last body I was like, that’s it, it’s Quinlan, he is dead. But it was just a child. And I felt such relief at that moment you have no idea. I really hope we get to see Quinlan alive and well and that he and Obi get to meet one last time. And also I need more Luke content. It’s just two episodes till it’s over (I’m hoping for a second season). And Luke was in the show for what? 4 minutes? Why would they even announce a cast for that? Just pick a random child of a street, ask it if it wants to make some money and there you go. Child Luke. I need Luke to talk and hug Obi wan like Leia got to hug him. And Leia holding Obi wand hand in the end made me emotional.

I’m sorry if it’s chaotic to read

Oh I adored all scenes with Reva and Leia. I loved when she said 'is this a staring contest?' YOU GO QUEEN

Tala is amazing! One of my favs for sure! She was so badass and I just love this actress in general so I am happy to see that her character is amazing as well.

Honestly I was thinking the same, that Quinlan will be there for one second but he is still alive <3 I hope so haha. Fingers crossed for him to maybe appear in JFO sequel or maybe still in last two episodes.

I don't mind that there is no Luke to be honest. I needed Obi-Wan and Leia bonding and I am so glad this series provided it. Her message to Obi-Wan in episode IV makes more sense.

And yes I agree I totally teared up when she squeezed his hand. Also the beginning section with Obi-Wan and Anakin parallels aaaaa so good.

In general I love this series. It's so different from other projects and I am glad honestly.

[aromanticaries]

Okay. I'm writing some critique reviews with a huge DAMPENED SIGH about Yellowjackets Season 1, Episode 8.

1. VAN. VAN. VAN. I love all characters in YJ BUT VAN's got to go before it becomes predictable and maybe parody (kinda already have been). Have you seen her mauled face?! At the same time, she was in excruciating pain. Hard to watch and even more impossible to live, like eating and more medical attention and supplies are needed. However, Van to me NOW, is IMMORTAL. I predicted she will live maybe till the finale of season 1? Again, she's AN IMMORTAL BEING. Never know. Nonetheless, her acting was top-notch and it wouldn't be funny without her.

2. Akilah! Wow that girl will grow up to be a Plastic Surgeon. Adult Akilah I really hope she's alive. That's a brave scene of her suturing Van's face with no facial reconstructive background. Her character is developing. 🥰

3. Coach Ben-gay. Haha. My heart went 💙💚💛💜🤍🤎♥️ awwh. Nat's straight gaydar was on point.

4. I'm brainwashed by the show, and the more reviews that pointed Adam is Javi, I refused to believe still, but we shall see.

5. Blackmailer - Jeff. Period.

6. Misty & Nat (adult version) - This time round I am team Misty and will be supporting her. I know she has some cells not functioning in her brain but have you seen how she cares so much about her friends. Misty scores this round and will continue to. Nat needs to knock some sense onto her head and go back to rehab. She should reflect back regarding Misty, how nice of her to go the extra mile to help a friend. I know Misty is a psychopath but she's helping and trying her best to be a good friend to Nat and others. In a simple context, she just needed acceptance from friends and she's good.

7. Carigula - Misty loves you.

8. Jackie and Shauna - Jackie will, without a doubt, plan a lot of candid act of vengeance on Shauna. She's bottling up all her rage/sadness/betrayal. I don't blame Jackie.

9. Taissa Turner - okay my favourite character. Sadly, my BB Tai isn't my favourite in episode 7 and this episode 8. Also, how come no one bombarded her with tons of questions and make her feel guilty? Tai needs to step down and be less cocky/stubborn. Well, In her defense, I can't hold her too liable as she has her own sleepwalking PTSD (parasomnia). That's why we see adult Tai seems more caring. Young Tai, hopefully will learn something from all the mistakes and change gradually, acknowledging her parasomnia and seek the help of her teammates.

10. Young Tai and Shauna evolved and the sweetness of Shauna to stay awake for Tai, is true friendship goals. Same goes for adult Tai and Shauna.

11. LAURA LEE- OMFG! WHYYY?! Yes, we all can foresee that she will die eventually but it was ruthless. I was expecting Van to die first(but that woman is immortal so nothing can finish her). Honestly, I was filled with anger and a shattered heart by Laura Lee's death. All her teammates were running with excitement to see her fly "successfully" until smokes began to show and seconds later exploded in front of their very eyes. I can see another new trauma now. 1st death out of the main characters.

12. Wait, come to think of it, maybe Laura Lee is still alive??! I am beginning to figure out that all the girls are IMMORTAL, (thanks to Van hahahaha) NO FATALITIES. Who knows, right? But I know the chances might be slim.

13. So, next week's episode 9, cannibalism needs to happen already. The pace is pretty slow.

Okay. My ongoing, ice-cold heart melted for Laura Lee's demise. RIP, RICE AND CHEESE. 🤍🍚🧀🕊️

[ladyartemesia]

The Terms

◐ PART III of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Series Masterlist ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Mature (for this installment)

Warnings: ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat. Jin’s pheromones need their own warning. Yoonji and Yunli are not the same person.

Word Count: 2300

Author’s Note: As promised, this chapter is twice as long as the previous two and a lot of what people have been speculating about in the asks is discussed in this chapter... along with a few surprises...

“Luna rex provocatione means ‘the moon king’s challenge.’ It is never invoked lightly as its consequences are grave indeed... If an alpha believes that he is the true Alpha and the goddess has placed another in his path as a test of worthiness and dedication to the pack, then he will acknowledge his acceptance of this test by declaring luna rex provocatione. Once the challenge has been set forth only the death of the Luna’s first mate or the total surrender of the challenger can satisfy it...”

Text of the traditional speech given by a chief elder to begin a luna rex provocatione ritual [7th century]

“I know you won’t understand, but this isn’t personal-”

Jimin offered his rival an overtly feigned smile.

“You plan to kill me and claim my mate. Which part of that could I possibly take personally?”

Tae snorted somewhere in the background and Yoongi elbowed him hard.

Tradition dictated that both alphas meet with their second-in-commands in the chief elder’s chambers to discuss the terms of combat.

Namjoon brought Min Yoongi and Jimin had somehow ended up with Taehyung.

He didn’t remember actually agreeing to make Tae his second...

It just sort of happened somewhere between calming his hysterical mother and quickly reading up on archaic pack law.

The chief elder coughed uncomfortably. Goddess, this ascension was supposed to be easy. He never in a million moons thought he’d be in this position.

The last chief elder who oversaw a luna rex provocatione ritual had immortalized it in his journal as “the single most horrific moment of my life,” describing in detail the Luna howling in torment at the loss of her mate and the victor collapsing over the corpse of his foe in misery and guilt.

As in the past, the outcome of this conflict was already decided by fate...

Pain and regret weighed heavily on the older man as he considered the younger of the two alphas.

Park Jimin was going to die violently and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Because Kim Namjoon issued the challenge, his opponent will decide combat form. Your choices are human form, half-shifted, and wolf-form. After your choice is declared, Namjoon may add a minor alteration if he so desires. Park Jimin, please declare form.”

“Human,” he answered softly - and every single occupant of the room recoiled in response.

It was bad enough to witness a fight in wolf form or half-shifted... but to engage in ritual combat as a human-

It would be brutal - even psychologically disturbing - without the benefit of a wolf’s hide to mask the savagery.

Namjoon’s eyes widened in shock, but he recovered quickly.

“I request teeth and claws.”

Not quite a half-shift. Teeth and claws allowed for attacks using lengthened canines and claws.

It could make a kill slightly more... humane.

Jimin nodded and the elder pressed his seal over the first of the terms.

The were no windows in the small, stuffy chamber and between the heavy ceremonial garb and the nearly twenty braided praesidium bracelets wrapped around his wrists, Jimin felt as if the blood in his veins was literally coming to a boil.

Though he dared not remove them to relieve his discomfort.

Each bracelet represented a prayer to the goddess. They were given as protection to a loved one before a great trial.

His mother had not stopped making them since the ascension. She’d torn apart her most expensive dress and spent hours twisting the fabric strips into intricate traditional braids while she prayed...

Jimin’s fingers sought them out for comfort as the miserable parade of ritual legalities marched past the two hour mark.

Many agreements (like Jimin’s insistence that his mother not be allowed to attend the fight and Namjoon’s pledge to financially support the Park family in the event of their alpha’s death) were settled quickly, however the sheer number of details to be solidified was overwhelming.

“I think it best if we adjourn for a short recess,” the chief elder sighed wearily and Taehyung nearly ran Yoongi over in his desperate scramble to finally use a restroom.

Jimin turned to leave, but a hand on his elbow drew him back.

“I want you to know, I did this for you as much as for the rest of them.”

His tone was low and carefully respectful, but Jimin’s wolf snapped irritably at the elder alpha’s presumption.

“What an... interesting statement to make.”

He pointedly removed Namjoon’s hand from his arm with calculated nonchalance.

“No one expected you to be chosen... Jungkook, or even Hoseok, would have been an understandable alternative, but you’ve never taken being an alpha seriously-”

“According to you,” Jimin fired back, finally allowing his voice to harden in cold fury. “I have always known and valued what I am. I simply never felt called to your version of it.”

Namjoon tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Park Jimin might not look particularly dangerous ... but for the first time, the Kim alpha considered that he may have underestimated his opponent.

“Either way - the pack does not trust you. They are not confident in your ability to lead them,”his hands fisted reflexively at his side as he considered the weight of his next words, “...but if you beat me, they will never question your strength.”

Jimin’s hands tightened into fists.

Namjoon might be an overconfident windbag, but he had a point.

He faced an uphill battle to subdue a restless pack as well as increased threats from rival clans looking to expand their own power and territory.

The challenge was a chance to establish his claim.

Or die trying.

“You think rather highly of yourself,” he chuckled and Namjoon bristled indignantly.

“I have devoted my life to the pack. I have never questioned my duty to them.” He leaned forward a bit, holding the younger alpha’s gaze with purpose. “That is why I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“And what of the Luna?” Jimin wondered in mock contemplation. “Do you think she will take kindly to the loss of her mate if you win?”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched. The Luna was clearly a sore subject.

“If I win, then you were never really her mate were you? Your entire existence boils down to nothing more than a sacred test in my destined path.”

Silence stretched heavily as the two alphas regarded one another with open hostility.

“I will fight you till the last shred of life is ripped from my body,” Jimin snarled.

A shiver ran down Namjoon’s spine, though he was far from intimidated.

“At least now you sound like an alpha,” he scoffed.

Then he was gone.

Jimin waited till the sound of the older man’s footsteps faded before slamming his fist into the table.

He needed air and to be alone with his thoughts for moment before he could civilly resume the endless negotiations.

Unfortunately, the only place offering both of those things was a cluttered balcony near the back of the building.

The room traditionally designated for luna rex provocatione proceedings had been used as a storage closet for at least the last hundred years (and therefore needed to be hastily cleared after Namjoon’s inconvenient declaration). Consequently, the room’s former contents (piles of toys from this season’s charity drive) were now strewn haphazardly across the narrow outdoor space like debris from a brightly colored bomb.

Jimin carefully navigated his way to the balcony’s wooden rail and lifted his eyes to the moon.

“Please,” he begged softly “... send me a sign.”

“If he did not hate me before, he surely does now,” you sighed, staring morosely at the lights flickering in the old chamber building. Somewhere within the bowels of that archaic fire hazard, your mate of less than twenty-four hours was negotiating a nightmare.

“This is not your fault, Luna-“

“Isn’t it?” you snapped. “That’s who I am. I’m the Luna, if I could just accept another mate without someone getting their throat ripped out, then none of this would be necessary.”

Jin sqeezed your hand sympathetically.

The council placed you under guard in a small cottage across from the elder’s chambers in order to prevent the alphas from having any contact with you. Since then you kept a constant vigil from its rickety porch, hoping to catch a glimpse of the young man whose life you had ruined.

“Would you do it then - if you could?... Would you accept another mate to spare the Park alpha?”

Bitter tears burned at the corner of your eyes.

“Yes,” you whispered, “...I think I’d do almost anything to save him.”

Comfortable silence settled between you for several minutes - until a small flutter of movement drew your gaze to the chamber balcony.

Then he walked out.

And just the sight of him was enough to slam your heart up into your throat.

Jimin...

Jin quickly turned to your guard and unleashed a wave of pheromones that would have knocked out a grizzly bear. The guard whined and abandoned her post to follow him inside without a second thought, leaving you conveniently alone.

Male omegas are a rare and dangerous breed, you observed wryly, before retuning your attention to the man across the path.

A painful ache twisted hungrily in your gut as you watched him tilt his face to the sky. Somehow the relentless beauty of his features was even more captivating in the moonlight...

Suddenly a strong breeze braided though the air around you, playing with the loose strands of your hair and carrying your scent away from the small cottage and up to the balcony where the young alpha sought solace.

Jimin’s eyes shot open as the rich, unforgettable essence of you exploded over his senses. His gaze immediately locked with yours, cutting through the distance and darkness with an intensity that left you reeling.

You could not see his face at the ascension - instead the blindfold left you burning with curiosity as your mind conjured a thousand variations of how he might have looked on you in that moment...

Yet every last one of them fell short.

You could never have imagined the naked longing - the fierce desire - that burned boldly in his regard.

A strange, desperate frustration overtook you.

He was too far away - and Namjoon was going to take him from you before you could touch him again - before you could breathe him in again-

The cruel wind continued to pull your fragrance toward Jimin like an erotic incense, yet it offered you no such gift in return. You could not discern his scent and you wanted to - needed to - with a voracity that was almost blinding.

Please...

A mournful whimper tore from your lips and Jimin’s body reacted instantly to your distress.

Suddenly he was digging through the piles of mismatched trinkets and toys on the balcony, tossing aside all manner of discarded treasures till he finally found what he was searching for.

“Jimin-hyung! Where are you? Chief elder wishes to resume-”

Jimin glanced toward door as his fingers worked frantically over the object his hands.

“I’m on my way!”

His eyes found yours one last time, then he drew back-

A muted thwack echoed a few inches from your shoulder as whatever Jimin threw embedded itself into one of the porch beams.

Your fingers trembled with anticipation as you reached forward to retrieve (what appeared to be) a pointed metal dart - probably from a wall-mounted Darts game someone donated...

A length of braided cloth was tied tightly to the shaft and you recognized it immediately as a praesidium bracelet.

Soothing waves of Jimin’s scent drifted up from the fabric where it had rubbed repeatedly against the glands in his wrist.

Your body calmed instantly. Cold desperation gave way to the soft warmth of tenderness.

He knew.

He knew what you needed and he found a way to send it to you.

Your hand closed tightly over the bracelet as you crumpled to your knees and sobbed.

A gentle knock sounded at Namjoon’s door and a familiar figure slipped inside.

“...Yunli?”

Namjoon blinked for several moments in confusion before closing his evening read to approach her.

“Yunli... why - what are you doing here? It’s late - the ritual set to begin at sunrise.” He glanced at the door behind her, “Is Yoongi with you?”

She shook her head.

“My brother doesn’t know I’m here.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he considered all the ways his best friend’s younger sister sneaking into his house (in the middle of the night no less) could go horribly wrong.

“Ah. Well... that’s ...not good,” he mumbled, running his hand over his face. “Are-um - are you here to wish me luck for tomorrow?”

He reached for a glass of water to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

“No. Frankly I hope Park Jimin beats you to a bloody pulp.”

Water sprayed comically out of Namjoon’s mouth as he began to cough violently.

“What?!” *wheeze* “Why?!”

She offered him a sad smile.

“You know why, Kim Namjoon.”

He did know why.

Yunli had loved him (or believed she loved him) since she was a little girl.

He sighed heavily.

“Yunli, we’ve been over this-”

“One week. The change comes to me in one week-”

“You’re Yoongi’s sister-”

“I’ll be twenty years old, and for the last time I’m not your sister-”

“Goddess above, Yunli!” he shouted, “You’re just a child!”

Yunli’s hands gripped the collar of his shirt and yanked him down to her level.

“I am not a child!” she growled.

Then her mouth was on his and every single thought he ever had disappeared.

There was only her.

Heat poured through him like heavy syrup as his senses surrendered one by one. His arms wrapped around her without the slightest hesitation, as if their sole purpose was draw her in.

Sweet... Oh goddess, she’s sweet.

Yunli whined needily and a possessive growl rumbled from his chest in response.

Then she was pulling back - wrenching herself away from him with an anguished sob.

Bitter tears flowed freely down her impossibly beautiful face and Namjoon - who spent the majority of his life barely acknowledging his heart - suddenly felt it shatter.

“You should have waited for me,” she whispered.

“Yunli-I-” he tried calling out to her, but it was no use.

She was already gone.

“Are you sure you have everything you need?”

Jimin offered his second a distracted smile and nodded. His room looked the same as it did the morning of the ascension, yet his entire life was different...

“You were great today, Taehyung. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Tae felt his chest swell with pride. He didn’t want to think about what sunrise might bring, but he was determined to serve his old friend well.

For as long as he could.

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, recalling that he fell asleep on his feet for three entire terms before anyone noticed. “You’re a surprisingly ruthless negotiator. I barely contributed.”

“I wasn’t alone though...” Jimin whispered, “and when Namjoon first issued the challenge... I thought I might be.”

Taehyung gulped, pushing back the oppressive sorrow settling in his gut in favor of some levity.

“You - uh - you actually missed the wildest part of the whole day.”

“...I did?”

“Yeah it was bizarre. Did you notice the table was different after our break?”

Jimin shrugged. His thoughts had been... elsewhere at that point.

“We couldn’t find you at first, so you missed the whole ordeal but - when we all came back to the room, that big oak table was split in half.”

Hello my precious readers! If you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments.

(If you are already on the taglist, I will automatically tag you in all future chapters, you do not need to ask to be tagged again.)

Please please please PLEASE let me know what you think! This chapter was HARD and I genuinely aganized over it. Your feedback and support are what kept me pushing though. Truly. I would love to hear from you! I treasure every word of feedback like diamonds.

End Note: Yoonji was mentioned earlier in the story. She is Yoongi and Yunli’s cousin. Yunli and Yoonji are separate characters.

[flowerfan2]

Lighthouse Tavern

I couldn’t help myself - here’s my take on the inevitable Ed/Stede post-Season 1 reunion.  Read on A03 here.  And please reblog and spread the love!

⚓️

It’s a slow night in the bar.  Ed occupies himself drying glasses and giving the ever-sticky counter another half-hearted swipe.  He wishes the group of increasingly drunk regulars in the back would leave already, so that he could go home and be done with his day.  Although he’ll just have to get up the next morning and do the same thing over again, so it really doesn’t make much difference.

It’s been almost two years since he was shipwrecked off the coast of this small Caribbean island north of Barbados.  Ed’s bar is a simple place, not infamous like Spanish Jackie’s, but appreciated by the fishermen who stop by to forget their troubles.  He doesn’t water the liquor - much - and he doesn’t try to give advice.  He just serves drinks.

Ed doesn’t see many of the people he used to know.  Izzy disappeared after the shipwreck, and most of the crew members that survived didn’t want anything to do with Ed.  It was just as well, Ed had realized quickly, because he didn’t have to try to be anything anymore - not what Izzy wanted, not what Stede’s crew wanted, nothing.  He could just be Ed, a guy who wanted to run a bar.

Of course that was a joke too.  Running a bar wasn’t particularly interesting, or fun.  Not by himself.  

He limps out from behind the bar and begins wiping down the tables, hoping that the group in the back will take the hint.  His knee is hurting more than usual tonight.  He had banged it up good during the shipwreck, turning what was already a bum knee into a permanent problem.  Even more reason to close up and get home before the wind picks up.

Finally the last patrons leave, the least wrecked of them tossing a tip on the table and giving Ed a sloppy wave goodbye.  Ed picks up the coins and their beer glasses, retreating behind the bar once more to close out the till.

After he finishes, he quickly glances around to be sure no one else is hiding in a side booth or passed out under a table, and then withdraws a teacup from a hidden cabinet.  It is a dainty thing, adorned with faded pink roses on the outside and a thin gold band along the rim.  Ed sets it in front of him on the counter as he makes the tea, then adds a small amount of sugar and raises the cup to his lips, holding his pinky finger out just so as he had seen Stede do.  

Ed doesn’t hate himself anymore, not like he used to.  His anger at himself and at Stede has long burned out, in the months after he learned of Stede’s death.  He likes to think this nightly ritual is an appropriate way of honoring Stede’s memory, one that his friend would have appreciated.

He’s not sure that Stede would approve of the Lighthouse Tavern.  It’s got crooked floors and mismatched bar stools and a distinct lack of fine fabrics.  Ed’s place is a far cry from the place they had laughed about, Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill with its delicacies and gift shop.  Ed couldn’t bear to name it that, and anyway, Blackbeard is long gone.  But this place is safe, and it’s his, and Ed can at least live out his days here without engaging in yet more violence and mayhem.  If it isn’t exactly what his heart desires, well, he had his chance, and he let it get away from him.

Ed used to wonder why Stede didn’t show up that night, whether he had pushed too hard, or whether Stede decided that the neutered version of Blackbeard that Ed had become wasn’t interesting enough for him.  When he was being honest with himself, he knew it wasn’t the latter.  In their last conversation on the beach, Stede was happy, Ed was sure of it.  Ed knew Stede wasn’t lying when he said that Ed made him happy.

If Stede had then simply gotten scared, scared of committing to a new life with Ed as his unexpected, socially unacceptable partner, well, Ed could understand that.  He could forgive it, even, and he had, although not soon enough.  

He still can’t help think about what he might have done instead of fleeing to the <i>Revenge</i> and letting the kraken emerge.  He might have gone to look for Stede, figured out where he had gone.  What would have happened if he had shown up at Stede’s house?  Would Mary have invited him in for a cup of tea, served in delicate china trimmed in gold?  Would Stede have sat outside with him as the stars came out, explaining what had gone wrong?  Would Ed have been able to change his mind about giving up a life with him?

In his long list of regrets, that’s the one that tops them all - that he didn’t go after Stede.  

Shaking his head, he finishes his tea and gives the cup a wash, then sets it carefully inside the cabinet.  He doesn’t even have a proper saucer to go with it, or a teaspoon.  But it’s enough to give him a taste of the pageantry that Stede so sweetly taught him.  He smiles, remembering the light and mischief he loved in Stede’s eyes.

Ed is startled by the sound of the door, and curses to himself as he realizes that he forgot to lock it closed.  He quickly checks to make sure his gun is within reach as Jim enters and strides over to the bar.

Jim had shown up here six months ago, mad as hell at Ed until Ed happened to mention that he had a lead on where Jim could find Oluwande and the rest of the pirates Ed had left stranded on a tiny island.  The fact that Jim hasn’t yet stabbed Ed gives Ed some reassurance that his lead panned out.

“Something to drink, mate?” Ed asks, already placing a heavy whiskey glass on the counter.  Jim is soaked through from the rain battering down outside, and Ed is tempted to offer a mug of hot chocolate instead.  But Jim might still try to kill him, and he’s not inclined to make nice just yet.

Jim sets their hat down on the counter and nods towards a bottle.  “That’ll do.”  They drink down the liquid and lean back, fixing Ed with a steady gaze.

“Any luck?”

They both know what Ed is talking about.

“Yup.”  A smile flashes quickly across Jim’s face, hidden almost before Ed can see it.

He doesn’t press.  He doesn’t need to know where Olu is now, or the details of Jim’s life with him.  But he’s glad that they found each other.  They didn’t deserve to be caught in the wake of Ed’s self-loathing.

Jim finishes their drink but doesn’t leave, and the hairs on the back of Ed’s neck bristle.

“You still living in that little shithole house on the cliff?”  Jim asks.

“Fucking rude.”  At least with Jim he doesn’t have to try to interpret any passive aggression.  Just pure aggression.  “And yes.”  The moment stretches, and Jim just stares at him, then lets their gaze wander to the door.  “Something else you wanted to say?”

Jim appears to consider this for a long moment, then shakes their head. “No.”  They put their hat back on, nod curtly at Ed, and leave, their long coat still dripping rainwater.

Ed sighs.  He’s not surprised - never thought that Jim could be a friend, not after everything he did.  Okay, maybe he’s a little disappointed that they didn’t at least stay for a few more minutes.  But being alone is nothing new.  He’s used to it.

Outside the rain is pouring hard.  The palm trees are swaying violently with each gust of wind, and Ed walks carefully.  Not for the first time, he regrets the pride that has so far kept him from using a cane.  Maybe he can get one that looks properly fierce, with a posh handle carved in ivory.  Or a hidden sword.

Ed tries to ignore the pain in his knee as he climbs the path to his house.  It’s small, but not a shithole, fuck you very much Jim, and has the distinct advantage of being far enough outside of town that Ed can have some peace and quiet after a long day at work.  And its location practically on the edge of a cliff means that when Ed can’t sleep - which is often - he can go outside and stare out at the water, watching the waves crash against the rocky shore below.  

Ed’s almost there when a burst of wind sends a stray branch careening towards him, and as he ducks to get out of the way he feels his knee give out.  Then he’s slipping, falling fast, and his head explodes in pain before everything goes black.

When he comes to, he feels hands touching him, and he flinches and pulls away.  “Get off me,” he growls.  

“Hold still, please, don’t-”

There’s a flash of lightening, and Ed freezes as he sees where he is - part way down the cliff side, saved from a certain death only by a rocky ledge that likely accounts for the throbbing pain in his head.  He tries to shuffle himself away from the edge, but everything hurts and his knee doesn’t seem to be working.

“Ed, don’t move, please, I’ve got a plan but you have to hold still-”

The raspy voice sounds vaguely familiar, and Ed tries to comply, but he feels like he’s sliding in all the mud, dangerously close to the edge.  “I can’t hold on,” he says, and he’d be ashamed of how frightened he sounds, but in all of his nights sitting on the edge of the cliff, staring out at the water, he’d never wanted to go over the edge.  He doesn’t want to fall.  Even if being killed in battle was no longer a potential option, being bashed to pieces among the rocks is not how he wants to go out.  

There’s a tug, and Ed realizes that someone has tied a rope around his chest, under his arms, and he wonders for a moment if he’s really all there.  He doesn’t remember it happening, and he has no idea who is crouching next to him in the storm.  

“It’s going to be all right,” the raspy voice assures him.  “You’ve hit your head, but we’ve got you.  You’re not going to be bashed to pieces.  It’s going to be okay.  Just hang on.”

The rope tightens, and then Ed is being dragged up, bumping over branches and rocks, until finally he’s lying flat on solid ground.  Strong arms lift and carry him, laying him down again with care on a hard but mercifully dry floor.  A blanket is tucked around him.  He recognizes the feel of his own quilt, and the smell of the tiny sliver of lavender soap he keeps by the sink.

“I’ll take it from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Jim, thank you.”

“Try a little tea with honey for your throat, Cap.  You’ve yelled yourself hoarse.”

“I will, Olu.  Safe travels now, both of you.”

Ed tries to sit up and see what’s going on, beyond the obvious and heartily surprising fact that Jim and Olu have apparently just saved his life, along with the third man, who is now leaning down next to him and running his fingers over his head.  He has a sudden flashback to Stede acting out the part of the phrenologist - and wasn’t that a word - and his heart freezes in his chest.

“Who - who are you?” he stutters out, feeling a chill run through his veins.  Ghosts come out during storms, he’s sure he’s heard that somewhere.

“Open your eyes, Ed.”

“Won’t matter.  It’s dark.”

“It’s not.  I’ve lit a candle.”

“It’ll make my head hurt.”

“It’s a very small candle.  On the other side of the room.”

Ed feels the person next to him shuffle closer, sitting down on the floor with him.  The warmth of his body is welcome as he presses a leg next to Ed’s shoulder.

“Your voice sounds almost like-”

“It is.”  The man clears his throat, and says again, less strained.  “It is.  It’s me.”

But it can’t be.

A gentle hand brushes his hair out of his face, and Ed whimpers in response, turning to press his face into the man’s palm.  He takes a deep breath, and opens his eyes.

Stede - or Stede’s ghost - is staring down at him, eyes wide.  His hair is drenched from the storm, and his cotton shirt is plastered to his body and spattered with mud.  He’s the most beautiful thing Ed has ever seen.

“How?” Ed breathes out.

“I faked my death,” Stede says.  “And I have a whole list of things to apologize for, not the least of them was not anticipating that doing so would make <i>you</i> believe I had died as well.   I didn’t mean to cause you more pain - you have to believe me, that is the last thing I wanted.  The very last thing.”  Stede bites his lip.  “I’ve been searching for you ever since.  When I heard of your shipwreck, I thought that I’d never see you again.”  Stede shakes his head and sniffs.  “But then Jim turned up looking for Oluwande, and I discovered that you had told Jim where to find him, which meant that you were alive and so-” Stede’s voice cracks, and he covers his mouth with his hand.

“So you came here.”

Stede nods.  “As fast as I could.”

Ed sits up, slowly, ignoring the pain in his head and his knee and the rest of his bruised body, desperate to address the deeper ache within his chest.  Stede’s eyes are fixed on his, and he slowly raises a hand to cup his cheek.

“You’re really here,” Ed whispers.

“I am.”

“For me.”

“Yes.”

Ed has a million questions, but he doesn’t give a shit about them right now.  Not when this man has miraculously appeared in Ed’s life again.

He leans forward, sliding his hand to the back of Stede’s neck, and pulls him in for a kiss.  Stede’s lips are as warm and soft as Ed remembers.  His heart soars, and he practically moans with wonder and relief.  

“Ed,” Stede breathes out, “Ed.”

“Stede.”  Ed says his name, opens his eyes and blinks, then smiles.  He can’t find the words to say how he feels, he’s never been good at it, but he thinks from the answering giddy grin on Stede’s face that they’re on the same page.

He has always wished that their first kiss could have gone on longer, would have given him more than just those few moments to relive.  So this time Ed holds on tight and leans in again, kissing Stede like he deserves to be kissed.  When he lets his tongue tease Stede’s bottom lip, Stede lets out a long “ohhhh” and slides closer, wrapping his arms around Ed and practically climbing into his lap.

“I missed you,” Stede rasps.  “Oh god, I missed you.  And I thought I lost you again, on the cliff.  Saw you go over, and I called for you, but you didn’t answer.”

“’M sorry,” Ed mumbles against Stede’s lips.  “Had no idea it was you.  Would’ve answered if I did.”

“I think you were unconscious,” Stede says practically.

“I’ll give you unconscious,” Ed responds, making Stede giggle.  Ed doesn’t care that he isn’t making any sense, none of this makes sense.  But it’s wonderful.

They kiss for a while longer, Ed letting his hands roam up and down Stede’s back, entranced by the strong muscles under his skin.  He’d be willing to do this forever - until he feels a particularly vicious twinge in his leg. “Oh, fuck.”

Stede pulls back, gripping Ed’s shoulders.  “Oh no, did I hurt you?  What can I do?  Should we stop?”

“It’s just my fucking knee, I’m sorry-”

“Oh my goodness, how silly of me, you’re injured and we’re rolling around on the floor-”

“No need to apologize, I’m quite enjoying myself.”  He thinks Stede blushes at this, but it’s hard to tell as Stede has quickly gotten to his feet and is surveying the interior of Ed’s tiny cabin, hands on his hips.

“You do have a bed in here,” Stede says, remarkably calmly for someone who had his tongue down Ed’s throat just a second ago.  “How about we relocate?  Time to get out of these wet clothes anyway.”

Ed is good with this, but his body doesn’t cooperate.  “Okay, just, um,” Ed grimaces as he tries to get his feet under him.

“Here, let me.”  Stede helps him up, and Ed nearly swoons as he rises and stumbles, his body pressed tight against Stede’s.  Stede steadies him, a tender look on his face that makes Ed want to cry.  Finally regaining his balance, Ed limps over to the bed with an arm around Stede’s shoulders, and then feels a wave of embarrassment as Stede proceeds to help him undress.  It fades quickly, however, with Stede’s daring touches and shy smiles, and he’s rewarded with the sight of Stede taking his own clothes off and settling them both under the covers.

Ed lets out a long breath and tries to relax.  He still can’t believe this is happening, that Stede is here with him, only inches away.

“You’re a beautiful man,” Stede says, placing his hand on Ed’s face, somehow echoing exactly what Ed is thinking about Stede.

“You don’t miss the beard?”  Ed never let his beard grow back, not since his shipwreck.

“Not at all.  This is how you looked when we…” Stede’s voice trails off, and he ducks his head.  “That night. When you bared your soul to me.  And then I left you.  I am so, so sorry.”

It’s a hurt that Ed has never been able to fully erase, no matter that he has forgiven Stede.  “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

Stede swallows hard, and looks up.  “Just before I was supposed to meet you Badminton found me, and forced me out into the forest.  He reminded me of how I’d ruined everything that I touched.  Defiled everyone I came near.  Including you.”

Ed hardly hears the second part of Stede’s explanation, he’s too filled with fury at the idea of Badminton threatening Stede.  “Did he hurt you?”

Stede laughs bitterly.  “He was about to shoot me, but he tripped and shot himself.”

Well, no need to hunt him down, then.  Ed snorts.  “Good.”

“But he had already accomplished what he set out to do - he hurt me, Ed.  Although it wasn’t physical, the damage was done.  He made me doubt myself, again, still, as I had doubted myself my whole life, except for an all too brief time with you.  Badminton turned my worst fear against me.  And so I went home, to try to rebuild my life with Mary and the children.  It wasn’t until I got there that I realized that couldn’t be my life anymore.  That wasn’t my home.”

“What do you mean?”

Stede finds Ed’s hand under the blanket and twines their fingers together.  “My home is with you.  The man I love.”

Ed’s heart leaps, but then he thinks of his sticky bar, and his shithole cabin, not a piece of fine silk in sight.

“You can’t stay here.  My place is… crap.  Nowhere near good enough for you.”

“Nonsense.  A little decorating, a few bookshelves, it’ll look lovely.  If you want me to stay, that is.”  Stede holds Ed’s gaze, pleading with his eyes.  “Do you want me to stay?”  

Ed stares into Stede’s eyes, adrenaline flooding his body.  “I do.  I really fucking do.”

“Well then,” Stede says, a beautiful smile spreading across his face.  “Come here and let me warm you up.”  

Ed cuddles close, tucking his head on Stede’s shoulder, and letting Stede wrap his arms around him.  He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this, so safe and comfortable and <i>happy.</I>

“You make me happy too, Ed.”

“This is nice,” Ed mumbles, wriggling closer until he’s pressed against Stede’s sturdy body from head to toe.  “Feels good here.  Feels right.”

“Mmm, it does,” Stede says, running his fingers through Ed’s tangled hair.  “Get some rest.  And in the morning, I’ll show you what I brought for your gift shop.”

Ed giggles helplessly against Stede’s skin, the memory of their long ago conversation no longer as fraught as it once was.  He lets himself drift off into sleep, imagining his little house and his modest bar overflowing with exquisite cashmere and fine linen, precious antiques and unnecessary bits and baubles, all the favorite things of the man he loves.  He can’t wait.

[bookquotes-20]

Crashing

Fandom: Folk of the Air

Ship: Jurdan

Rating: T

Fluffy Angst

Little had changed since Jude’s ascension to the throne. As when she was Seneschal, she coordinated the kingdom’s affairs with unparalleled grace and tenacity.

Perhaps the greatest difference was the respect and admiration that shone in the eyes of her subjects and colleagues. Some entertained the sentiment freely while others offered their appreciation with reluctance, but even those that loathed to admit it, could not deny that their Queen was remarkable.

Oh, and of course, the revels.

As Seneschal, Jude could still make up excuses of work to avoid attending the unending festivities that were often separated by little free time. Cardan was never far from “a party mood,” as it was called in the human world. And when she was considered a mere accessory to the crown, she had no direct obligation to attend each meaningless celebration.

Now that she wore said crown, the lavish parties were considerably more difficult to avoid.

Jude still did not attend them all, nor did she attend them in their entirety. She would, though, make an appearance alongside her husband at the beginning and end of each.

It was a thrill like no other, walking to the dais boasting their thrones, her hand firmly in his, both draped in finery.

He would brush a kiss across her knuckles each time before they took their place together, and his voice would boom across the hall to begin the merriment.

For years, Jude had watched Cardan’s lithe form adorned in lush garments and glittering powders as he maneuvered through galas and feasts and festivities. And yet still, he managed to take her breath away each time.

First with his otherworldly beauty, for their was no other way to describe it. She hesitated to call it Fae beauty because he truly surpassed all the Fae she had seen. The slant of his high cheekbones accentuated by the faint shimmer of gold. The sensuously dark eyes rimmed with kohl that only served to increase their depth, through the contrast they provided against the white around his irises. When a sheen of intoxication covered them, they glimmered like the night sky. The wine he indulged in throughout only served to darken his sinful mouth, accentuating his lips against his pale skin. Unfortunately, Jude was acutely aware that she is not the only one who has noticed Cardan’s painful beauty.

Beyond this carefully crafted beauty, though, through this new lens placed upon their lives, Jude saw something else that set her stomach aflutter in ways she could not hope to explain. Her disinterest with the merriment gave her the opportunity to watch her husband with rapt interest. Observe in ways she had not let herself indulge before.

She watched Cardan charm their guests and dignitaries, smiling wide and tipping his head back in laughter at their stories. His lighthearted demeanor and mischief coaxed grins from even the most stubborn of their guests. Enough so that they’d miss the coy turn to his lips, the sly gleam in his eyes that indicated he was there for more than celebration and mirth. He would masterfully put all around him a perfect ease and walk away having gleaned whatever political advantage he sought. Every. Time.

It fascinated Jude to no end. Her husband was cunning. And no one was the wiser. 

The thought enticed a chuckle from her chest.

The sound seemed to catch Cardan’s attention. He turned his head toward her and gave a small smile as he started up the dais to her.

“Would you grace me with a dance, my queen,” he said, eyes shining. She smiled and took his outstretched hand.

His gaze never wavered from hers. Not when he maneuvered them through the crowds to the center of the room. Certainly not when he placed her hands on his shoulders and his own firmly on her waist. Absolutely not when his fingers pressed with careful deliberation against the small of her back to arch her towards him.

“You’ve danced with quite a many people tonight, my king.” Her voice was mostly teasing. Although, a seasoned ear — and his was most definitely seasoned when it came to Jude — would swear there was the faintest undertone of jealousy. Cardan’s lips twitched into a smile.

“I have only wanted a dance with one person all night, and I have her in my arms.” Jude rolled her eyes in attempted annoyance, but the barest pink on her cheek betrayed all.

He raised their joined hands to twirl her. If he deliberate cut the spin short so she would fall against his chest, neither of them mentioned it.  The longer they danced, the more the world around them faded away. As it often did when they were together. 

The King and Queen had a way of losing themselves in each other. The time, the location, the circumstance was of little import. The ever burning spark between them would flare into a wildfire that burned all else out of their consciousness.

Flint and tinder indeed.

That’s why both startled when a loud cough beside them brought them out of their reveries. Jude nearly jumped backward, she truly would have were it not for Cardan’s firm grasp on her. They turned to see The Bomb waiting with an amused smile.

“Pardon the intrusion, lovebirds — I mean Your Highnesses,” she corrected with a giggle. “If I may borrow the Queen for a moment?”

Cardan threw The Bomb an annoyed glance, as if to say Really? but it only served to fuel her laughter. Jude squeezed his hand apologetically before starting to pull away. He held on to her till the last second, reluctant to let go, desperate to maintain the physical connection between them.

“I’ll see you in our chambers,” Jude whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before The Bomb pulled her away.

The Roach and The Ghost are waiting for them in the shadows of the exit arch. The Roach glances behind the two, suppressing a laugh at their High King who looks downright forlorn at the loss of his queen. What is the expression the mortals use? Whipped?

“What’s wrong?” Jude asked as they approached the spies. “Is there immediate danger?”

“No immediate danger,” The Roach reassured, “A messenger just arrived from the Court of Teeth with a letter. Nothing too serious but it does require a prompt response. They would like to meet with you and the Cardan in one week’s time regarding expanding and fortifying trade routes between the Court and Elfhame. Since it is a four day journey, we thought it best that we send the messenger with a response immediately to avoid rushed panic.”

Jude nodded, “That would be wise. Take me to him.”

In nearly an hour, she had received the message, formulated the perfect response, sent the messenger on his way, and planned the critical details of the summit. The Roach shook his head in amazement, a small smile curled The Ghosts lips, and The Bomb just looked on in respect and adoration. Their Queen was frustratingly talented. When it came to everything except her own safety that is. Her lack of self-preservation was a source of anxiety for them all.

“Would you like an escort back to the revel?” The Ghost asked softly. Jude smiled and shook her head.

“No, thank you, I think I’ll retire for the night. Enjoy your evening.”

They nodded and bid her good night as she started towards the royal chambers.

A deep breath left Jude’s chest as she closed the doors behind her. Her hands rose to her temples, fingers massaging the skin softly.

A brief moment passed until she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist. She didn’t hesitate to melt into her husband’s embrace, allowing his body hold up her own. Her hands covered his as he placed a soft kiss to the skin of her shoulder. Jude found herself thanking Tatterfell for choosing a sleeveless gown for the evening, held up by an intricately embroidered chord of fabric wrapping around her neck.

She tilted her head to look up at him. “You returned from the revel quite early.” Her brow furrowed and she scanned his face for signs of exhaustion. “Are you tired?” He shook his head. 

“My heart was elsewhere.”

The phrase was simple, but the weight of his gaze made it anything but. The corners of Jude’s eyes softened.

“I believe I still owe you a dance, my king.”

Cardan’s eyes brightened. “I believe you do,” he took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, “my queen.”

She turned in his arms to face him. His arm didn’t move from her waist, simply shifted to better accommodate her.

“Music?”

Cardan smiled and pulled her in closer. His cheek brushed Jude’s and his lips moved to her ear. He began to sing softly.

Jude’s eyes widened in amazement. His voice.

It was unlike anything she had heard before. Deep yet soft, like waves of velvet washing over her. Something in her body thrummed at the sound.

Resonance, was the term that came to mind. It was as if his voice was a frequency her very soul was tuned to. A sound made just for her.

Her forehead fell forward to rest on Cardan’s shoulder. She heard the smile in his voice as he swayed their joined form gently around their chambers. Jude felt the music vibrate through his body against her own.

“You have a beautiful voice,” she whispered against his shoulder. 

“Thank you, my love.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“What song is it?”

“It’s an old Fae ballad, a tale of two lovers whose very natures pitted them against one another.” Cardan spoke low in her ear. Even in the privacy of their chambers, it seemed as though he was hiding the words from the rest of the world, speaking only to her heart. “Just as the lovers constantly fought with each other, their hearts fought them. Their souls were made for one another, yearning to be united. Despite the world of circumstances separating them.”

There was a heavy silence. “I thought of it often in your absence,” he admitted.

Which one? Jude wanted to ask. During her exile? When she was taken by the Undersea? She pulled back to search his eyes. Or perhaps, even in their childhood? When they claimed to feel nothing but hatred for each other.

She rose on her toes to press her lips to his. A silent thank you for his trust, his admission. He kissed her back with more fervor than she expected. Jude braced a hand against his neck, fingers creeping into his dark curls just briefly while his lips moved against hers. Cardan pulled back slightly, breaths coming heavy as he rested his forehead against hers. His brows were furrowed, lines of tension contouring his face. Like he was reliving the pain of losing her all over again. Her fingers traced his face, smoothing the lines away.

“Every time I saw you, there was a fire that lit my veins,” she says into the space between them. “As you said, I always thought it was hatred.” Jude paused. “But I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why that fire burned so much brighter when I saw another girl in your arms.” His eyes snapped open at that, lips parting in slight awe. The corners of Jude’s mouth twitched. Success, she thought as she saw the pain slowly melt off his face as mirth creeped in.

“My queen,” Cardan began, his eyes sparked anew, “were you perhaps, jealous?”

“Were might not be the right term, are is more appropriate.” Jude scowled slightly. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck absentmindedly. “I still don’t like all the women that try to weasel themselves closer to you, with no regard for your wife’s presence.” She felt a tremor run up his spine at the word. Wife.

Jude paused, hesitating before reminding herself of Cardan’s admission to her. One piece at a time.

“They’re all quite beautiful too,” she muttered under her breath, averting her eyes.

Cardan looked at her as if he didn’t quite hear her correctly.

“My love, you can’t possibly be insecure about your appearance?”

“I mean, I’m not blessed with their Fae beauty or anything.” Truth be told, Jude had never cared about her appearance in front of the Folk. Her battle physique and training were most important to her, they still are. But she would be lying if she said she didn’t occasionally reflect on the differences between her and the beauty of the women that threw themselves at Cardan.

“Jude, look at me please, love.”

When she did, her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. “I understand insecurities are normal, everyone has them. Gods know I have more than most. But you have absolutely nothing to concern yourself with.” His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her closer. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. No one else has the power to take my breath away with a single look. To make my heart race with a single touch. To undo me with a single kiss. You have ruled my heart, my mind, my very soul long before any of those women you speak of.”

Jude’s breath froze in her lungs. She knew Cardan loves her. He knew she loves him. They had whispered the words against each other’s lips and skin in dark nights of their chambers, spoken them through their eyes when their gazes locked across the throne room, laughed them to the wind as they danced in the royal gardens (at Cardan’s request). Yet the raw emotion in his words right then, the surety in his voice, nearly cut her open. She wanted to return the sentiment, to tell him what he means to her, but the words froze in her throat. A flash of hatred coursed through Jude at that. Hatred directed at no one but herself. For still freezing when it comes to laying her heart bare before him, the one person she trusts. The one person who deserved her vulnerability. Instead, like a coward, she caught onto his earlier words. 

Jude snorted. “Please, you don’t know what the word insecurity means when it comes to looks.” She poked at his high cheekbones jokingly, before tracing her finger down his sharp jaw. “You’ve never looked less than perfect a day in your life.”

Cardan’s hand rose to cover hers. His gaze pinned her in place. “And yet when I saw true contempt in your eyes, the day you returned to Elfhame, I felt uglier than I ever have in all my days.” He flashed back to the hate she directed at him. It felt like a steel net, weighing him down, closing his airways. He could hardly breathe under the weight. 

She brushed her thumb over his cheek.

Tears in his eyes were the last straw. Jude searched his face, her thoughts racing. No more, she decided. No more hiding. Cardan deserves better. He deserves more. He deserves vulnerability and to be loved freely. He deserves no more armor. Jude steeled her heart and something shifted in her eyes.

“It’s interesting that you saw contempt,” she murmured. “Considering I couldn’t bring myself to be angry with you the way I wished to.” Cardan’s eyes widened in surprise. The corner of her lips twitched. “Unfortunately, hating you has never been easy.” Jude stroked his cheek again. “There are days I question whether I could truly manage it at all.”

There’s a lightness in her eyes he’s unaccustomed to. No. Not a lightness, but rather the absence of weight. Jude does not often voice her feelings, but when she does, there is hesitance. Fear and reluctance swirl in her heart and heavy her tongue. The words she normally would have had to force out, flow today from her lips as naturally as water. Her lips ticked upwards, settling into the ghost of a smile.

Her arm wound tighter around his neck, decreasing the distance between them, while her other hand remained pressed between his hand and his cheek. His own arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer still. Her mouth rose to his, just a hairsbreadth from touching it.

“Did you ever truly hate me,” she whispered.

“I believed I did.” Cardan’s gaze never wavered from hers. “I convinced myself the intense emotion that clouded my every thought was hate, because it seemed like the only acceptable answer. I tried to nurture those thoughts further towards darkness and hatred. At least that I understood.” His temple pressed against hers and a breathy chuckle escaped his chest. “What a fool I was.”

Jude paused a moment before asking another question.

“Can you tell when I lie?”

Startled again, Cardan thought. He contemplated his answer. “I believe so.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t think I can put it into words,” he said. “Truthfully, I don’t think I myself understand how I know. Perhaps it is a product of watching you with such scrutiny all these years. There are parts of you I find myself so attuned to that it surprises me. Very little of myself is conscious when it comes to you, my sweet nemesis.” His thumb brushed back and forth over the skin exposed by a cut of her gown at the waist. The ministration in conjunction with his smooth voice is mesmerizing. She finds herself losing awareness of everything but him. “Your eyes usually give me my answer. As you speak, whenever I look in your eyes,” he moves her hand from his cheek to his heart. “something in here just knows whether you are telling the truth.”

She locked her gaze with his now.

“I love you.”

His breath froze in his throat. And he knew, something deep in his heart knew, that it’s true. He returned her honesty with a kiss. Whispering his greatest secret against her lips.

“I love you, my dearest Jude.”