#i booked one privately i just feel like i should be covered and i shouldn't have to pay due to my Conditionssssssssss specifically
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b-blushes · 4 months ago
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deleted the original post but i DID call the number to check booster eligibility/booking as instructed by my drs' receptionist and it went straight through 'this service isn't open at this time 👍 goodbye' and ended the call OKAY COOL (this wasn't cool at all)
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neverenoughmarauders · 19 days ago
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Chapter 68: Muggle Magic
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Lily Evans has been struggling with her life as a muggle-born, feeling like she doesn't quite belong in the wizarding world, nor the muggle world. When she's faced with an opportunity to read what one of her friends really thinks about her, Lily learns a thing or two, not just about trust and friendship, but also about herself and a different kind of magic. Read the chapter here.
Baby Jily(pad?) extract below for those that don't follow the story.
When she finally climbed through the portrait hole, she found all the girls in her year, Pettigrew and a few boys and girls from the year below, sitting around Potter and Black, who were clearly entertaining the others.
The two boys where sitting on the armrests of the same chair, with what looked like a random collection of their belongings scattered on the seat itself. They had been holding up what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. It was spinning very fast, glowing brilliantly and she could just about hear a whistling noise over the laughter from the Gryffindors.
'What's going on?' 
'Black and Potter snuck into the Slytherin common room last night, and are showing us their haul,' Gemma explained.
'You stole stuff?!' Lily couldn't believe her ears.
She didn't know what was worse. Potter and Black, or the fact that everyone seemed interested, rather than appalled. 
'It's just evidence, Evans,' Black said dismissively. 
'Evidence?'
'That we did sneak in, of course,' said Potter. 
'Anyone can claim to have been there,' Black agreed.
'We like to back it up with evidence,' Potter nodded.
'This is our favourite,' Black smirked, holding up a black notebook.
'It's Eloise's diary,' Mary explained, looking a little guilty.
'You've not actually -?'
'Course we have,' Potter shrugged.
'You're mentioned a few times,' Black said. 'Care to hear what she says about you?'
'No!' Lily said immediately, her fury growing stronger every second. 'What's wrong with you two? Actually, all of you!'
Some of the crowd shifted uncomfortably. Others, Lizzie and Gemma included, seemed to struggle with refraining from rolling their eyes.
'Rosier should have been more careful, shouldn't she?' Black raised an eyebrow. 
'She was being careless, leaving it around in the common room,' Potter agreed.
'Maybe Slytherins can count on each other not to go through people's private possessions,' Lily gritted out. 'Give it here, Black.'
'Whatever for?' Black said lazily. 
'So I can give it back to Eloise.'
'Nah, I am not done with it.'
Lily lunged after the diary. Black threw it into the air - just in time. Potter jumped up from the chair, ran a couple of feet and caught it. As Lily turned towards him, his stupid face split into a self-satisfied grin: 'Come and get it, Evans.'
Oh, she would.
'Accio.'
The book flew out of Potter's hand and into the hands of a boy Lily didn't recognise. The badge, however, was one she did know.
'What's going on?' The boy asked. 'Potter? Erm...?'
The boy's voice trailed off as his gaze landed on her.
'Oh hi, Geoff,' said Potter immediately, still grinning. 'Jenny mentioned you got the badge. Congratulations. Big responsibility and all that. This here is Evans.'
Geoff - whoever he was - looked momentarily taken aback. Potter was unbelievably manipulative. But Lily Evans wasn't going to give up that easily.
'That's my diary,' Lily said quickly. 'Potter and Black took my diary and were threatening to read it out loud to everyone.'
Lily made herself small. She didn't think she needed to look like she was about to cry. This should be enough. 
'Your diary?' Black asked, raising an eyebrow and looking amused.
The prefect seemed like he was about to open the cover to check: 'Don't!' Lily said shrilly. 'That's private.'
For good measure she decided to throw in: 'I want this to be over. I just want my diary back.'
'Of course,' the prefect agreed, looking a little embarrassed. He cleared his throat and held it out for her: 'here you go.' 
Lily took the book and marched towards the portrait hole as she heard the prefect telling Potter he'd be let off with a warning "this time". As if this was Potter's first offence. 
As Lily passed Black she could have sworn he muttered something that sounded like: 'younger siblings.' Turning back at the entrance to the common room, Lily cast a final glance over the dissolving crowd. Catching Black's eyes, she winked at him. 
One-nil to the younger siblings, as far as Lily was concerned.
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goldenavenger02 · 7 months ago
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i will die in the house that i grew up in
"Long day, it took thirty seven minutes to get through The Ugly Turtle Duckling," Zuko groaned as he rested his head against his pillows, "the guards are worried about another attack, they want to deploy another division into the city."
"What do you want, mister Fire Lord?"
"I want to go to Ember Island, to take you and Izumi on a vacation,"
For @badthingshappenbingo. Prompt: "Please Don't Leave Me."
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"-"It is time for you to go back to the lake to swim again, as you were born to do," said the farmer. He took the turtle-duckling back to the lake where he had found him, and set him with care on the water. "I feel good!" said the young bird, flapping his wings. "Why, I don't think-"
"Daddy?" Izumi interrupted, twisting a finger in one of her raven-black strands as she leaned against his side.
"Yes, my love?" Zuko muttered softly with a muffled yawn while running his fingers over her scalp and untangling her small hand from her long hair as he tried to lull the six year old to sleep, making a mental note to ask the hairdresser to take a few inches off until she kicked the habit.
"Why is everyone being so mean to him?"
"Because he looks different and they think that it's a bad thing," Zuko explained the story carefully as his daughter looked up at him with wonder in her golden eyes, "but in a little bit, they are gonna learn that they shouldn't have underestimated him just because he looks different."
"Is that why those bad people don't like you? Because you look different?"
Zuko swallowed; even though Izumi was only six, she was quick as a whip and smarter than he and Mai had been at her age; it was only logical that she would have heard the hushed conversations between himself, her mother and the royal guard about the uprising from the New Ozai Society.
"You should not be listening in on private conversations," he scolded lightly, his fingers drifting unconsciously to his scar and pressing down for a brief moment before he quickly came up with an explanation, "some people get angry because I do things differently than what they are used to and they take out that anger on me."
"That's not very nice."
"No, it's not," Zuko agreed, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head, "but I promise that those people will never be able to hurt you or mommy because the guards and I will always protect you."
"Mommy doesn't need protection, she has sharp knives."
"That she does," he chuckled against her hair at the thought of Izumi seeing her mother wield her stilettos before asking, "ready to finish the book? We have to find out what happens to the ugly turtle duckling."
"He's not ugly, daddy. He's just different."
"My mistake, princess," he apologized before resuming his sentence, "-"I feel good!" said the young bird, flapping his wings. "Why, I don't think I ever felt as strong as I do right now!"
She drifted off before he finished the last page, giving him the chance to slowly maneuver her onto her pillows and tuck her in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering, "good night, my turtle duckling," in her ear.
When he finally joined Mai in their chambers, she was propped against the headboard with what Zuko could only assume was a letter from her mother.
"New record, thirty seven minutes." She announced with a quick wink after taking a peek at the sundial from over the scroll.
"Oh, only thirty seven?" He chuckled as he pulled down the covers and climbed in beside her before rubbing his tired eyes, his mind now plagued by the uprising once again.
"You okay?"
"Long day, it took thirty seven minutes to get through The Ugly Turtle Duckling," Zuko groaned as he rested his head against his pillows, "the guards are worried about another attack, they want to deploy another division into the city."
"What do you want, mister Fire Lord?"
"I want to go to Ember Island, to take you and Izumi on a vacation," Zuko mused, thinking of his daughter building sandcastles and splashing in the waves before pushing them away, "but until we quell the New Ozai Society, we're needed here."
"As soon as all of this is over," Mai insisted, putting the scroll on her nightstand before rolling so she was next to his face, allowing her to pull him in for a warm, comforting kiss, "we'll go to Ember Island. Promise."
Zuko nodded, wrapping a hand around her hip, his voice dropping deeper to say "I love you, Fire Lady Mai," before pressing his lips against her for a longer, deeper kiss.
She pulled away after a few minutes to whisper in his ear, "and I love you, Fire Lord Zuko," before returning to his lips with a hand pressed firmly against his jawline to tip his lips into hers.
Izumi had always been an escape artist.
When she had learned to crawl, she would always try her hardest to scoot right past Zuko, Mai or her nanny with a giggle as she went; all of the adults looking after the princess, even Iroh as his old age started to catch up with him, were fast enough to catch her before she could crawl out of the room or hit her head.
Then she started walking which quickly turned into running.
Soon enough, it seemed to Zuko that at least once a week, his royal duties would be interrupted by the head of the royal guard opening the door and informing him that Izumi was missing or worse, in the infirmary.
No matter how many times he had arrived with his crown falling out of his hair from the panic, only to see her contently sitting on Mai's lap with a fresh bandage covering a small gash on her pale skin or a small washcloth being held to a bruise, the anxiety that coincided with his daughter would remain just as strong as it had the first time she had ever run off.
"I swear, if you ever teach her any of your scaling walls nonsense…" Mai warned after Izumi received a particularly bad gash on her knee that had needed two stitches.
"If she ever learns how to scale the walls, we are in big trouble." Zuko responded, holding his daughter close to his chest and rubbing her back as she slept against his collarbone.
So it didn't come as too much of a surprise to have his meeting with the head of education interrupted by Tao opening the door and addressing him, "Fire Lord, we have an urgent situation involving the princess," even if it sent his heart pounding erratically in his chest.
"We will have to continue this meeting at a later time, minister Huong."
"Your family comes first, Fire Lord." The man nodded in understanding, giving Zuko the permission to stand from his chair and follow Tao outside before demanding an explanation.
"No one can locate the princess. We are currently searching extensively but she slipped away after the Fire Lady left for Shuhon Island and before the nanny arrived."
Izumi was known to run, desperate to explore her surroundings; but this time, the Fire Nation was crawling with the uprising of loyalists that were gearing up for an inevitable attack against him and against his family.
"Do a sweep from top to bottom," Zuko immediately launched into action, "no stone unturned. No one comes in, no one goes out. If someone is trying to take her, we could still cut them off. I want every single member of staff questioned about the princess and if they even begin to act suspicious, let me know. And get some eyes on the Fire Lady. She'll tell you she can protect herself and I believe that wholeheartedly, but get an exact location. Inform her of the situation as soon as possible and make sure she gets updates as they come."
"Yes, sir." Tao nodded before walking away to delegate and serve, leaving Zuko alone in the hall with a pounding heart and a racing mind.
'Azula always said that there were passages in the walls,' he remembered, examining the wall to see if any of the stones looked like it could be some sort of hidden switch, hoping that Azula hadn't lied for once.
"Come on…" he muttered, running his hands over the individual rocks with just enough pressure in his fingertips that a fake one would give way under his weight.
The adrenaline inside of him was pleading to start his own search, to give up on this theory, that Azula always lies, but he pushed it down and used his small reserve of patience to continue running his hand over the wall.
That's when he felt the small rock, no bigger than a pebble, give way under his touch; he pressed it harder until he heard a 'click' as it stayed pressed down in the wall, frozen in place as a chunk of the wall slid inwards to reveal an opening with a staircase descending deep underground.
He wished for a moment that Toph was there to sense if there was any point to descend into the darkness, but Zuko knew that he was alone in this; he lit his palm ablaze and slowly made his way down the stone steps.
Zuko was a runner, just like his daughter; he too had spent most of his adolescence letting his impulses guide him, using his agility and speed to get his way with the fire inside of him as a crutch.
But with a situation as precarious as this, where Izumi's life could be in grave danger, he forced himself to be as quiet and slow as possible as he made his way down the stone steps, hoping that he hadn't just found a completely empty room under the palace.
When he neared the bottom of the steps, he had the urge to call out for his daughter, but if a member of the New Ozai Society had indeed been the one to snatch her when no one was looking, it would alert them as well.
So he snuffed the small flame out and listened for any sign of life with his back to the wall; at first, he didn't hear anything aside from a few creaks.
He must have been standing there for five minutes and losing hope as every second ticked by, but as he started to turn on his heel, that was when a voice echoed in his ears.
"When my daddy finds you, he's going to kick your butt."
'Izumi.'
She wasn't crying or screaming, she wasn't in any obvious pain by the sound of her voice. If anything, she sounded annoyed by the entire situation while refusing to show her captor any signs of fear, just like he and Mai had taught her.
For a brief moment, Zuko's heart swelled with pride before he took a breath and launched his attack, fire blazing from his fist, breezing right past the man's face just enough for him to feel the blistering heat.
"That was a warning shot. The next one won't miss." Zuko held his hand out, alight with flames dancing in between his fingers and kept it fixed on the man even as his daughter called out to him.
"Daddy!"
He turned; she was bound tightly with harsh rope in the wooden chair, her feet tied to the legs and her arms restrained behind her. He couldn't see any injuries, but aside from the flames in his hand illuminating a small portion of the room, there wasn't a single light source. "Are you hurt?"
"I-I'm okay."
Zuko ignored the stutter in her voice for now, returning his vision to the man who had tied up his daughter, his baby girl, the same way that one would restrain a grown adult and saw red as he aimed his flame-filled palm at him once again.
The man fell to his knees, his face pressed to the floor, and started to beg. "I apologize, Fire Lord Zuko. I was hired to do this, I never would wish harm on the royal family. I have a family of my own, I was only trying to provide for my children."
Zuko kept one hand trained on the man as he walked behind the chair that Izumi was tied to and started to burn through the rope; he knew that anyone in his position wouldn't hesitate to blast the man and no one would not blame him afterwards if he did so.
But, he had begged on the floor of this very palace for forgiveness as a child and was met with a permanent reminder in the form of flaming fingers.
No matter how much he wanted this man to pay for putting a hand on Izumi, he couldn't bring himself to do so, not when bringing him down, along with the rest of the New Ozai Society, was much more important.
"Darling," he addressed Izumi as soon as the last of her binds were burned away, "I want you to go upstairs and don't stop until you find Tao. Tell him everything and send him down here with the other guards. Do you understand?"
"Yes, daddy." She nodded before sprinting up the stairs, allowing Zuko to keep his full attention on the man on his hands and knees at his feet.
"I will spare your life, as the princess was unharmed by your foolish actions," Zuko informed him, "the royal guard is on their way and you will be thoroughly questioned about your involvement with the New Ozai Society. Your testimony will likely result in a lighter sentence for your crimes of conspiracy and being an accessory."
"Of course, of course, Fire Lord-"
"And if you so much as look at my guards the wrong way," Zuko allowed his flames to shine brighter, illuminating the fear and regret in the man's face, "I will not hesitate to go back on my word."
The man didn't get a chance to speak before the royal guard stormed the abandoned wine cellar and took him away, leaving Zuko in the darkness as the adrenaline ebbed away and the reality of what he had just threatened hit him.
'I almost killed a man. I threatened his life.' When he came to this realization and felt zero sympathy, however, an even more worrying thought hit him directly in the chest, 'what if this is how it starts? What if this is the beginning of another abusive tyrant as a Fire Lord?'
It wasn't like Ozai had been terrible to him as a small child on Ember Island, that he started putting unrealistic expectations on Azula that he knew Zuko would never be able to fulfill when they were babies; there was a time before he was only able to look at his mom with hatred in his eyes and before he treated his uncle like anything other than an obstacle.
At some point, there had been a tipping point for Ozai and as Zuko stood that tiny stone cellar, he couldn't help but wonder if that assassin for hire would be his own tipping point.
"Sir?" Tao's voice was the same level of calm that it always was as he stood firmly in every word he spoke, "perhaps we should get you to the infirmary."
"I can't," Zuko shook his head, "Izumi-"
"Is already there, I had Ming take her in case he was lying, and the Fire Lady is on her way back from Shuhon Island" Tao cut him off, "but with all due respect, Fire Lord, you're not looking so well."
And with that, knowing that his family were going to be okay, he relented and allowed Tao to loop his arm within his to support his shaking legs on the stone steps.
"I can't leave for a day without you two getting into trouble," Mai's deadpan voice hit Zuko's ears, instantly filling him with relief as he held Izumi in his arms while she turned her attention to the physician, "how bad is it?"
Zuko chose to focus on Izumi's deep, content breathing as she slept on his lap; she had mild rope burns on his wrists and ankles and a couple of scrapes on her knees from tripping on the stone stairs, but she was alive.
He rushed past Tao despite his shaking legs and all but slammed the door open; within seconds, Izumi was grabbing onto him tightly, tears in her eyes from the sting of the antiseptic on her knees.
"Please don't leave me." She begged against his robes, her chest falling and rising rapidly with quick, panicked breaths as tears dampened his chest.
Zuko held her as tightly as possible without hurting her, gently rubbing her back and assured her, "I am never letting you out of my sight again, Izumi."
Her soft snores were echoing in his ears and her chest was rising and falling evenly which was all that was keeping Zuko from joining Tao in the questioning of the would-be assassin, demanding to know why they had gone after the princess instead of him.
"How is she?" Mai whispered as she sat next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder and massaging it for a few, brief moments before letting it fall to the side.
"Mild rope burn, a couple of scrapes," he ran a hand through her hair with a sigh, "she was a bit frantic when I got here, but she's taking this a lot better than I am."
"This is not your fault, Zuko, you know that," she insisted while transferring Izumi into her arms, allowing Zuko to rest his head on her right shoulder, "this comes with the territory of being royalty. You've done everything you can to prevent this kind of thing with the new watch towers and hiring more guards."
"I know." Zuko pulled in a deep breath as he continued to lay against Mai's shoulder.
The two of them sat in the silence of the infirmary for a few minutes, the only sound being their breathing and Izumi's soft snores, before Mai finally spoke again with her fingers gently working Izumi's hair into a braid.
"I think it might be a good time to take that vacation to Ember Island," she stopped to meet his golden eyes with her light gray ones, "we could all use it."
Despite everything running through his mind, he couldn't stop himself from offering his wife a small smile as he quickly pressed a kiss to her soft lips before saying, "I think you're right."
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saffronjades · 9 months ago
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Crimson Cheeks: A Diary of Embarrassing Events
Chapter 2 - "Pull Over!"
Friday is carpool day!
Tina's gym is just around the corner from work, so she always drops by at about 8:40am. The drive is only 15 minutes, with a maximum ~2 minute walk from her gym to the office.
I still hadn't told her about the mortifying situation at book club from the day prior. *Should I tell her myself and just put up with the laughter?* I wondered to myself, *or do I let her find out from Susan or whoever else she talks to at book club?*
I contemplated this as I got myself a drink of water from my kitchen. My throat had been strangely dry all morning.
As I finished the water, I checked the time. 8:38 - Still a couple of minutes until Tina was supposed to arrive. My throat still feeling dry, I got myself a second drink. I drank it as fast as I could, and looked again. 8:39.
*Why is my throat so dry?*
I poured a third drink of water, and began to drink this one a little slower. Feeling a familiar sensation, I thought about going for a quick wee. My consideration was interrupted from the horn of Tina's car outside.
I got my bag and headed to the front door.
***
"10 seconds?? How the fuck do you accidentally fart for 10 seconds???"
Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have told her. But I have to admit, her laugh is infectious. Even I began to laugh.
"Don't make me laugh I need to pee," I spoke between the shakes of my body laughing.
"And I'm trying to drive!" Tina teased.
"Look," I calmed myself down, cautious of my bladder, "I don't know how it happened. It just did. It was horrifying."
"You are an odd one, Eleanor." Tina glanced at me from the side, smiling. A genuinely warming smile.
"I know," I squirmed a little in my seat.
I already knew what Tina was about to say.
"Gonna fart again?"
"No, I just really need to pee."
"We'll be there in..." Tina glanced at the digital clock in the car's radio, "10 minutes. I can drop you off outside the office so you don't have to walk."
"Thank you, I really need it."
The seatbelt dug slightly into my bladder, and my denim jeans' button did the same. I tried to find a position to fix the uncomfortable feeling but I just couldn't.
The more I fixated on the feeling, the more it grew. I could physically feel my bladder filling up. I tried telling myself that it was in my head, but it was no use - It was a feedback loop of thoughts to reality.
I tried to distract myself by chatting. "I thought I saw a tall figure the other day."
"A what?"
I realised how silly I sounded, but continued with a slight chuckle, which did not help my bladder. "I don't know. Thought I saw something down the street from my house. Looked like a tall lady, but it was gone when I blinked."
Tina stayed silent for a second, with a puzzled look on her face. "I don't know what you're on, girl."
I smiled, "At times, neither do I."
The tingling of my bladder grew. I kept an eye on the clock. 6 more minutes.
*I can hold it.*
*I can hold it.*
...
*I don't think I can hold it.*
"Pull over, please."
"We're in --"
"Pull over!" I interrupted Tina.
"There's nowhere around for you to pee! We're on a busy street with houses! Let me just get to some trees or a shop or public toilet or anything."
Tina was right. Even if I got out there, there was nowhere to pee.
"Okay," I closed my eyes, "I think I can hold it."
I felt a tiny, tiny drop escape me. I tightened my legs. I knew it wasn't enough to show, I just had to hold the rest.
I bobbed up and down in my seat, side to side, just keeping my body moving. My legs were as tight together as I could possibly get them, and the muscles in my lower abdomen squeezed hard.
Suddenly, I knew what was about to happen.
I opened my eyes. I saw trees at the end of the road, with enough covering for me to feel private.
"Here! Stop here! Let me out, this will --"
I stopped speaking. Stopped moving. It was too late.
Despite my best efforts, I felt the gripping sensation in my bladder let go. The initial feeling was a gentle, comforting warmth, spreading across the sensitive area around my crotch. It moved towards my upper thighs, gradually seeping around my legs. It claimed more territory as I sat there, helplessly feeling myself involuntarily giving in to a primal urge. I had lost to a basic bodily function.
It extended its reach towards my backside, creeping through the crevice in the most ungrateful way. The distinct, moist heat had spread across both of my buttcheeks. I felt my muscles loosen further, allowing the flow to strengthen. I glanced down, seeing the bright blue of the denim get overtaken by an unmistakable circle of dark blue. The circle grew into more of an oval as it stopped spreading sideways, continuing further down my legs. I tried to clench my muscles, to put a stop to this embarrassing extravaganza, but it was to no avail. Like a broken tap, the gentle pattering began. The denim had soaked in too much, allowing liquid to spill out onto the car seat and floor.
"Eleanor --" Tina, usually chatty, could not find the words to say.
I finally got control of my bladder, once it was already basically empty. The gentle plip-plip-plip continued, as the overflowing fabric of the car seat continued to release my pee to floor, one drop at a time. As fast as my thighs had warmed up, my face did the same, showing the red cheeks of embarrassment. The rest of my face was pale.
I moved slightly, with a huge *squelch*. I didn't speak, or look at Tina. I stared forward.
"Do you want to go home?"
I nodded. "Yes, please."
***
The first 5 minutes were silent. I think Tina may have been weighing up how to approach this best - Knowing her, she probably wanted to tease me slightly. Honestly, it would have helped take the edge off a little.
Instead, the first thing she said was a story of her own.
"I peed myself in this car once."
I smiled. "Yeah, I remember you telling me."
"Stuck in traffic for 40 minutes. How was I supposed to hold it?" She laughed.
"And then you got pulled over," I remembered how much we had laughed when she told this story originally.
"Yeah, trying to get home fast. I bet all the officer could smell was piss when I rolled the window down."
We both cracked up with laughter.
I thought for a moment. "I just feel like I have a curse recently, you know?"
Tina looked gestured a hand towards me, wiggling all of her fingers. "Ooooo, Eleanor's got a curse!"
"I'm not crazy, okay!" I laughed, "I just mean, I keep having all these things recently. The burping, the farting, the peeing myself just now."
"Yeah you'll probably shit yourself next," Tina changed her tone to a normal one, pretending to take me seriously.
"Oh, Tina, shut up!"
"Hey, you can't tell me to shut up! You just pissed in my car, you're the one who has to make that up to me!" She switched back to her jokey self.
I laughed at this sentiment. "I suppose that's true."
I looked out the window.
*A curse,* I thought to myself.
*Even if that were possible, why would I be cursed?*
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r0semultiverse · 1 year ago
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Hey! 1. you dont have to answer this if it is too laborious, i absolutely get it, but if you do feel like answering I would love your take.
This is a genuine question about ai and voice acting: so, I use a text to speech app to help get through my readings for college. I cant actually afford the AI voices, but from my brief trial period they sound so easy to understand, and I do sort of wish i could afford them over the more robotic voices for my study. Where do you stand on that?
I ask because i feel a little tangled up because 1. I hate AI, and i would rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than listen to an ai voice read an audiobook (also like, i am a writer and chatgpt breaks my heart) BUT 2. It's not like an academic article is going to be properly recorded for accessibility.
i genuinely dont know where I stand on this, and I suppose it starts getting a little murky when we talk about ai and accessibility. Is this one area where ai is ethical, because it is for accessibility? Or does that leave room for 'but i cant draw so midjourney is accessibility for me'? Or can we draw that line more firmly because there are neurological/psychological/developmental reasons someone might need to listen to their academic readings in order to learn rather than read them? Or do we need to push publishers to hire people to read their journals?
again, no pressure to respond. I feel like this is a murky, convoluted question, and ethics can be not super fun to dig into. BUT if it is cut-and-dry for you, i would love to hear your reasoning. I dont want to feel so murky about it.
To make a generalized statement before getting into some specifics; I think that personal private use of AI for stuff like that where you aren't going around sharing a voice actor's voice without their consent is fine. You need it to be able to better read things. You aren't sharing this with others or posting it up for views & clicks & YouTube clout only to (hopefully) later get sued or fined (or a YouTube strike) for the questionable legality of it. If we ever get laws protecting us voice actors (here's to hoping).
Let me clarify as well that consent should have to be given for peoples voices to be used however which ways they are currently. Yes, even for accessibility programs, the maker should be getting consent from and/or paying the voice actors for their voice. Ideally much like how big name companies get a share of movie ticket money & streaming revenue, that currently does not go to the actors/voice actors in a lot of instances. Voice actors & such should not just be getting that single payout for their work, but also payouts over time based on sales with products they helped make & streaming money too.
There's a very fine line between doing something privately & sharing it around publicly. I'm completely against stolen art, commission someone or keep those AI art pieces private to yourself.
I don't think it's on the publishers to have to have an audio version readily available. Book authors/writers & such are screwed over currently enough as is. Having said that, I think people online should be able to read any book out loud/create an audio book & publish it for accessibility & reading along purposes. I can't go reading certain books or literary works on stream due to fear of being copyright stricken. Book copyrights & things aren't my area of expertise though & I'm no professional writer trying to make a living off my work.
There's better educated people on the topics of books & accessibility out there. If you do make a book audio cover on YouTube, you shouldn't be able to monetize it without consent from the author(s). Authors & writers aren't treated great either. I think a lot more groups of people should be striking than are currently.
If it's a bougie publishing company (if those exist), then I think they should absolutely commission someone to have an audio book version of it. The voice actor should also get paid royalties or whatever you call that even after the initial payout though! Again, I don't know jack shit about how books & publishing work, this is just how I think at this current moment in time.
Also if people are going to post AI for clout anyway, they should legally have to disclose they're using AI in whatever they're publishing like how some countries have laws about disclosing when your content is sponsored or an advertisement.
Also as far as paying someone to voice act anything, no company or business gets to own our voices permanently. This is in addition to the things said above. Pay us to voice over a new book, pay us to say those lines, and every other possible instance this can apply to. Our voice isn’t anyone’s to permanently own and do what they want with regardless of context! Pay us for our voice over!
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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 4 years ago
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🕯Anon said : Can I request headcanons with a Modern Au Teacher!Erwin and his s/o is a slightly famous artist like a painter that’s always in the basement. Maybe have a moment where the art teacher begs him to bring them to the school when they find out who Erwin is with. ? 🕯
Teacher!Erwin brings you, a famous painter, to work.
{ Erwin x Reader | tw:none | fluff, suggestive kiss | modern }
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{ "Leisurely Sunday in the Villa Comunale in Naples" 1993 by Francesco Tammaro Born in 1939 }
Grassy fields surrounded the old big building as the trees undressing of their leaves onto the sidewalks, currently being swept away by the janitor.
Students were filling the halls, the sound of chatter and laughter following after. Outside in the yard, the whistle of the gym teacher could be heard following by heavy footsteps as the football team started their morning practice. Not long after the bell rang, the halls were empty again only for some crumbled papers and snack covers left behind.
"Pigs, all of them. There's a trashcan right there." Levi scrunched his nose at the smell of axe spray and deodorant near the trophy cases. "Tell Miche to spray his running monkeys with soap every once in a while."
"Now now, what got you so grumpy this early in the morning?" Adjusting the lab coat on their suit, Hange replied. "Oh cut the kids some slack, their big game is coming soon or something."
"And he's been implenting a more strick hygiene policy." Said Erwin, holding a plastic binder with a stack of exam papers, mostly marked red. "He's trying to convince the principal to ban deodorant during practice because it's making his nose burn."
Huffing in response, Levi crossed his arms. "Yeah because the principle will definitely listen to him after that whole sniffing people scandal- Hey! Brats, don't you have classes"
As Levi went to scold the two students currently hanging a handmade poster for the upcoming game on the wall, a couple of students came up to Hange, looking in a hurry as they explained the Science lab was locked and they're getting tired of sitting on their backpacks outside.
Soon after, Erwin too made his way to class.
Upon entering the room, the talking quieted down as the squeaking sound of people going back to their own desks followed. Walking upfront, Erwin dropped the binder on his desk beside the empty mug, a couple of groans filled the room as the students realised what it was.
"Mr.Smith, didn't we just take the test yesterday? Shouldn't you like...I don't know double check or something? Maybe you rushed grading them?" One student called from the back as some chuckles and agreement followed from the rest.
Taking the stacks of papers out, Erwin made his way between the students, giving each on their graded paper. "I don't know Connie, maybe you should've double checked your answers instead?"
The playful atmosphere of the classroom was cut short as the door slammed open, making everyone freeze in their seats, none other than the art teacher walked in.
Nile Dawk, current art teacher who fails at least a quarter of his class each year. Who has oh just the most swell relationship with Erwin and anyone can tell you that.
You see, Erwin adored art, both the classic and the modern. Nile admired history and knew just how each art era had its link to a historical event.
And the pair couldn't stand each other.
Crossing his arms, Nile said "Erwin, you have explaining to do." Before dropping a newly printed magazine onto his desk, 
Its cover, showing a brand new art museum that just finished construction and is hosting a lot of different paintings from unrecognised underground talents. 
"Nile, I think you misunderstand. I teach history, I'm not an architect." He said raising an eyebrow, before tilting his head as if he's deep in thought, "or do you want me to explain what a museum is?"
Sneering at his remark, Nile flipped through the pages till he reached a certain one. It depicted a one of the paintings that will be displayed in the museum, a portrait of a blond man with broad shoulders and sharp blue eyes seemingly distracted from reality by the book in his hand.
The soft glow of the fireplace next to the red armchair he sat in, adding a certain orange hue to his light complexion. His long fingers holding the leather book as a glass-stained maroon vase sat on the small table behind him, containing a single red rose.
It's clear from the details poured into his eyes and the shading for each strand of his hair that whoever made this painting, held a great affection for the man.
"Now Mr.history teacher, care to explain why your face is on this painting? By one of the few promising artists of this useless generation?."
Hushed murmurs filled the classroom as students took out their phones googling the name y/n, showing each other the said painting while staring with wide eyes at Erwin.
Rubbing his temple with his fingers, Erwin frowned at the scene the other was causing. Knowing very well it won't take long for this fire to spread, he decided to add more fuel to the flames.
He took a long breath, before telling the class to quiet down with a stern expression. 
"Mr.Dawk, are you really asking me why y/n, my love, the person I'm married to, paint me?" He said facing the other, looking directly into his eyes. "Maybe you should ask y/n instead if you're so insisting on forcing yourself in my private life."
Narrowing his eyes, Nile snorted. "You know what Erwin? Maybe I should.
And that's the story Erwin told you while having dinner that day.
He looks at you with pleading eyes as if to silently apologise for dragging you into this mess, his plate still half full and drink untouched.
Please reassure him that it's alright, you don't mind taking a day off to visit his work
He'll reach out to gently squeeze your hand in his, whispering a small thank you as his thumb rubs against your skin.
He also says he'll do the dishes that day, you can go rest and he will join you in bed after a while, a relieved smile on his face.
The next day, as he wakes up early like usual. He makes sure to wake you up with a kiss, stroking your face before murmuring "good morning" against your lips. 
He knows because of your work you don't wake up early, so he's really patient and understanding if you happen to get grumpy for a while.
Handing you a warm drink to help wake you up, he'll make sure you eat something before changing and heading out.
You're not surprised to find him already done and dressed himself.
Hair as perfect as usual.
On the drive to school, you'll feel the cool morning air against your skin while your head leans back into the seat, eyes fluttering shut.
You can have your mini nap, Erwin will make sure to wake you up when you arrive.
When arriving, he made sure to open the car door for you. The fresh air and green scenery surrounded you both.
When arriving at the teacher's lounge, you're almost surprised to see two people already there from how early it was.
The first was sitting on the old black couch near the window, his dirty blond bangs covering his eyes. The second you could see making tea on the other side of the room Where the kitchenware was.
Both of them glanced up when Erwin called their name, staring at the way he had an arm wrapped around your waist while introducing you.
It was Miche who came first, standing from the couch you noticed just how tall he was. Offering your hand for him to shake, only for him to pull you into a tight hug instead.
He pulled away, tapping his nose before a smile slowly formed on his face, nodding in approval
The second was Levi, who ignored your offered hand only to sip on his teacup, assessing you up and down.
Not too long after, a person with a messy ponytail and a colorful lab coat arrived.
They took one glance at you, then the matching wedding rings on yours and Erwins fingers before taking an immediate interest in you.
Hange asked questions faster than you can answer them, with sparkling eyes and a wide smile.
At the first sign of you being uncomfortable, it was Levi who stepped in to tell Hange to tone it down before apologizing to you.
And it was Miche who got you some snacks from the teacher's secret stash after.
You've heard stories and one sided phone calls about them from Erwin, yet it still didn't prepare you for actually meeting them.
While overwhelming at first, the more time you spent talking as Erwin reassuringly sat beside you, you noticed how genuinely interested they were.
Levi, while seemingly cold, was actually the most considerate and paid the most attention to you. He'd step in whenever things got too much and would be really polite despite having a colourful language. By the end of it he even made you some tea, something that seemed to surprise Erwin and the rest.
"It's just...he never trusted someone this quickly before."
Hange was genuinely interested in you, having researched you and your art beforehand. They really were eager to hear even the most boring details and were capable of understanding your way of thinking. They even gave you a small rubber frog they carried around in their pocket to hand out. It would've been cute wasn't for the fact immediately after they mentioned the real human skeleton they have pinned to the lab door.
"His name is bean! I've been actually investing into getting him a human heart for Valentine's day, but all the ones I've found so far were in jars."
The most quiet of them was actually Miche, although he'd smile at you whenever you looked his way. Despite his intimidating size you learned how harmless and easy going he is, the most chill out of the three. He did mention knowing Erwin for the longest time out of them, having been childhood friends even. He promised to tell you all the embarrassing secrets Erwin tried to erase from existence as he added his number on your phone.
"He ain't as proper as he looks, I got the dirt on him."
You saw Erwin's jaw tightening before he changed the subject quickly, giving the side eye to Miche who only smiled back.
The rest of the day went by smoothly, Erwin didn't leave your side for one minute and made sure to check on you constantly. 
He introduced you to the rest of the teachers and seemed only amused at any teasing he got from students passing by.
By the end of the day, as the sun began to set and the students already done with their clubs, you and Erwin had one final place to go.
The art classroom.
"Just one more thing before that" he told you, guiding you into an empty classroom.
You saw his desk, the mug you gifted him on father's day as a joke sat on his desk, several paper sketches you made were framed next to it.
It was his classroom, with only you and him, the door open.
He closed it.
You stood against his desk as he moved closer, arms circling you, not breaking eye contact.
"May I?" He whispered, licking his own lips.
As he got your permission, he pressed his lips against yours, arm stroking your back before pulling away after some seconds.
He rubbed your swollen bottom lip with his thumb, a small smile on his face before pulling away.
Your heart was still fluttering against your chest as you left the classroom, while Erwin seemed to be smiling at nothing with a slight curl to his lips, steps more lighter than before.
Right after that he took you to the art classroom. The smell of oil paint and sound of brushes scratching against paper filling the air.
Stepping inside, the scratching sound stopped as a certain black haired man stared at you, eyes wide and lips parted.
Disbelief clear in his face, Nile was quick to mask his emotions as he noticed the smugness Erwin was in.
"Nile, I'd like to introduce you to my lovely darling, y/n." There was a chipper to Erwin's voice as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. 
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enha-woodzies · 4 years ago
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➸ CHAPTER 5 | " ILLICIT AFFAIRS "
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starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel
pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon
genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting
word count: 1.8k
taglist: @serendipitysung @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @stxrryemxlys
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[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]
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“The morning sun has come, and the evening moon is gone. Dearlings, I am elated to apprise you of the events at the debutantes’ ball that occurred as of late, and must I warn you, they're not for the feeble spirits!
The ton is abuzz with the most beefy tale as Northumberland’s jewel among the lovely rocks, Miss Y//n Park, has earned herself a ticket to glory! She danced with the most favored noblemen in the ton and surely, she went home with a hearty grace as she'll most likely expect an abundant roster of suitors in the following days.
Not only was she offered a dance by our dear second-born, Lord Yang, but she also had the privilege and pleasure to be twirled around the court by the most charming, Lord Lee, and the ever coveted nobleman among the ton, Lord Park, the next-in-line Duke of Northumberland!
Where's the beef you might ask? Well, it seems to me that these men are blindfoldedly playing fire with each other.
Not only does Lord Lee has women wrapped easily around his fingers, he has men too! With a sly steal of Miss Y/n’s hand from Lord Yang last night, he certainly left the chap earnestly plotting for a segue of intrusion- and Lord Yang intriguingly delivered!
With the timing in its most opportune, Lord Yang managed to finally dance with the young miss, in private! Ooh! This is new! My senses told me they spent their waltz in the Queen’s library, alone! How in the world did they let this happen to the ton’s jewel unchaperoned? That is something the Daily Tattle is unfortunately unable to unearth, but the mystery will continue to haunt us for long. Do take note: the more you hide in careful secret, the more people will know and hear about it.
What happened next will have you either boggled, or enchanted! The young lord abruptly rushed out the room before the music even ended! Should that be counted as a waltz at all? Before you ask about the enchanting part, Miss Y/n was seen dashing out the room moments later in tears and evident heartache. What do you think happened in the mere minutes of alone time in that large 4-cornered room?
But come now, enchanting stories aren't as they are without a knight in shining armor. In fact, in our young miss’ case, her knight wasn't clad in shining, silver sheath, but in magnificent and elegant, vintage red tailcoat draped over a loose white jabot shirt that’s cleanly tucked into the black, satin knee breeches, finished off with a pair of shiny Hessian boots. With skin as white almost akin to snow, it complemented perfectly with his ravishing fit. The beautiful marquess certainly dressed himself valiantly for the seasonal occasion. With that stunning presence, anyone would surely presume he went to the ball looking like a duke in careful search of a duchess.
Lord Park and Miss Y/n surprisingly became one of the ball’s highlights as they graced the Royal Court with the most heart-stopping, corset-itching, tantalizing waltz. All the while their faces are almost an inch apart from each other, a brooding identity was found hiding in the crowded corner of the hall! Under the bright gleam of the grand chandeliers, our dearest second-born, Lord Yang, was seen eyeing the two with such stare that even the buffy slice of vanilla cake on Lord Sunoo’s plate could almost melt in a blink of an eye!
Among the splendid tales told by yours truly, which tea do you think tastes like sweet ecstasy of oddity and fervor? It is the ton's tradition to portend the lady’s endgame by the person whom she had her last waltz with. From one man to another, should these prophecies dictate Miss Y/n Park’s fate?
Well, don't turn your heads away now! The story's just begun.”
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The mid-morning sunrays peek through the large leaves and busty trunks of the hibernating redwood trees lining in disarray. Y/n is just about to plummet into her habitual readings in the Kielder forest and the autumnal breeze is keeping up with her bubbly morning approach, fortunately.
The sounds of the birds chirping and the dead leaves crunching under her shoes creep up through her puff sleeves making her tingle in giddiness and enthusiasm. She deeply inhales the aromatic forest and lets out a giggle in the process. With jumpy leaps and crispy leaves echoing in her every move, the young lady surely knows where she's going in this partly mysterious forest that is most often open only to men and men alone.
Somewhere deep in the evergreen woods, Y/n has built a fortress of her own for whenever she needs to run away from the seldom, mundane life in the manor. At the heart of Northumberland's famous Kielder Forest, lies a small, whimsical looking fort made up of translucent voile casually hanging on a tree branch. One of her lady maids helped her out with the fabric one time and it still stood prettily among the chaotic scenes that go around in the forest today.
She enters her slightly sheer fort and sits down on a pillow that she stole away from the comforts of her bedroom. Flipping the olden pages of the aged Jane Austen book she borrowed from a boy several years back, she heaves a sigh at the sight of a dead Catalpa flower resting on a particular page accompanied by a little, worn out parchment dating back to when she was a tiny ten-year-old lassie. She reads,
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Her eyes drifted over the page to where the note and the old flower were situated. The pads of her fingers graze over the certain phrases that were underlined by the book's owner that says, “I cannot make speeches. If l loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.一 You hear nothing but truth from me.一”
She suddenly feels a gush of nostalgia and loneliness upon muttering the words she had ultimately carved in her tongue way back; reciting each word with fervor while she bask herself under the brightly-lit moonlight in their garden. How can children of ten gobble up such emotions at once? So much for a pair of hopeless romantic hearts from the distant years of ten, screaming disagreements and would later huddle on a sprawled out table cloth on the flowery fields, exchanging sentimental poesies and stolen stares.
She relives the brief moments they both shared last night in the Queen’s library, and ponders on how one could be so adjacent to the changing of tides in the sea; promptly, and mostly without warning.
“Well, well, well. If it isn't the feelings I've been trying to avoid.” She whispers to the autumn air. Unfortunately, her pondering truncates as snaps of twigs and crisps off dried leaves echoes in her corner. She hastily crawls out her hand-made canopy and brushes away any pieces of tiny crumpled leaves off her dress.
“What are you doi-”
“Who are you?” She cuts off the startled chap cladded in ragged clothing, apparently embodying that of a mainland farm boy.
“Greetings, your ladyship. I come in peace and I am just here to fetch the chopped woods I’ve laboured a day prior for the farm.” The chap with a very odd accent replies with both hands hanging mid-air. “You are fully aware that you shouldn't be in this place, especially unchaperoned, right?” He continues.
“I am fully aware. But such matters shouldn't concern you.”
“Indeed, my apologies. Furthermore, I will respect your unspoken wishes if it is truly your desire to keep your whereabouts hidden from your townspeople. My lady.”
Y/n relaxes from her bold stance as she found a hint of kindness from the odd stranger. Surprisingly, she extends her hand out to the stranger for a greeting.
“Please. Call me Y/n instead.” The boy looks at her open palm for half a minute before shaking it, looking as equally surprised as the young miss with the sudden gesture.
“You live pretty far from the town, huh?”
“I do. Life's utterly chaotic over on your end?”
“Oh, you don't have the slightest idea.” They both share laughters and inside jokes of their own livelihood that made the young miss settle her shoulders down comfortably.
“I'm Jake Sim. Just Jake Sim. Apparently, my name was originally Jaeyun, but the farm folks got used with Jake and so did I. They said it sounds more Australian.”
“Why would they associate your name with something Australian?” Y/n grew more curious as it was, after all, the first time she's ever been with a person that's not of Northumberland's proper.
“I grew up in Australia.”
“That's curious. How did an Australian boy land among the ragged farms of Europe?”
“It's complicated. The story involves a lot of conspiracies so it's definitely not for your ears. Some other time, maybe?” Y/n smirks at the sudden brazenness from her newly found acquaintance.
“Is this an Australian thing where we shift from acquaintanceship to something more?” She teases.
“Certainly, if you're down to it on your next Kielder visit?”
“For sure. But as for now, I must take my leave. My presence is very much needed for the promenade scheduled for me today.” Y/n half-covers her mouth as if reaching out for a whisper, hissing the last sentence.
“Ah! Rich people things that I could never.” The chap could only roll his eyes at the fancy thought.
“See you soon, Just Jake Sim!”
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“Where have you been, princess?” The young miss scoffs at the marquess upon arriving at the town’s park, with a hand immediately sliding through Lord Park’s arm.
“Down with the flirtatious remarks now, aren't we? I went to promenade with myself, Your ever handsome Grace.” Sunghoon smirks at her tiny, playful whispers against his shoulders. They go around and about, traipsing along the cemented pavements as they give away acknowledging nods and polite smiles to whomever wants their brief attention.
The ton is still in amazed shock at the possibility of these two ending up with a ring on a finger. Everyone was subtly betting for Jungwon but as a result of his loss, a much better gent carried his girl off the floor. Something he let himself do, out of cowardice perhaps, or out of pride.
“Remind me the point of all this?” Y/n carefully whispers to Sunghoon.
“To make your man jealous and spit out his genuine sentiments in the process, as well as an advantage for me as we get to keep the marriage-minded mothers of the ton at bay. Now, all we have to do is smile, nod, and appear madly in love with each other if this is to work. Is it clear enough for you?” He jerks a brow at her paired with the most charming smirk he could ever expose.
“Crystal.”
*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!
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ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021
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imagine-that-one-thing · 4 years ago
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Her Majesty. || 20
Cruella
Anastasia.
The palace halls' are bustling just like my thoughts are overflowing and seizing to stop. I haven't spoken to or seen Harry since we fell asleep last night. Everything was great until it wasn't.
It is partially my fault for what occurred last night. I shouldn't have glanced at his desk and picked up the file, his work is his business, and I had no right to look. I was intrigued. I didn't anticipate recovering photos of what transpired the night my father died, and I didn't expect all the emotions to boil over and cause me to break.
I walk to the stables, the last resort of attempting to attain Harry. When I woke up this morning, I had hoped he would be close by. He habitually tries to linger when he knows I need to be awake at certain times, but I received no greeting this morning. No text, no call, nothing.
I mindfully lead down the hill; strands of thin light come from the sky, springing in between the cloudy May morning. The malachite-green fields appear covered in a bright sheen under the morning rays. The sparkling morning dew is making itself present as I slide on the soggy grass, almost sliding down to a host of daisies dispersed at the bottom.
I find myself safe and sound at the bottom of the hill and in the presence of the horse stables. I discover Harry standing at the fence, leaning his arms on the top panel as he watches a few of the horses being moved around by trainers. Harry glances over his shoulder and sees me but diverts his attention back to the horses. My breath hitches in my throat as I inch closer, I had assumed our issue from last night had subsided, but from the look on his face, I was wrong.
"Been looking all over for you," I break the silence as I stand beside him.
Harry proceeds to stare at the horses, intently observing them. I can only presume he is out here for some fresh air and to clear his head for a few moments before going back to work. "Been here," Harry responds.
"Are we okay?"
Harry breaks his stare from the animals and cocks his head to the side to glance at me. Then, Harry takes a deep breath and nods, "Your horse is doing well," Harry gestures to Meadow as she leads with the trainer.
"Yes," I agree, "Why are you out here?"
"I am watching the horses."
"Why?" I press.
"See the horse on the left?" Harry questions, and I nod my head, "She's going to be racing with yours. They're both good contenders for the Ascot."
"Where did she come from? Mum's horse is grey."
"She's mine… Well, she is ours," Harry responds, "Been watching her train for the last six months."
"When did you have time to buy another horse?" I cross my arms over my chest. I don't know half the shit Harry does, but I am not surprised by him having another horse.
Harry shrugs his shoulders, "Well, the man next to Mum started training her, but he couldn't do it alone. He asked if I would help, and I couldn't, so he brought her down here. Your Mum said she could stay in the stables."
I raise a brow, "Okay… We can discuss the horse thing later, but why are you bouncing around my question on why you are out here? You don't hide out here. I have been looking for you for an hour."
"You know how you need alone time? So do I. You should go inside and get your cuts cleaned up properly," Harry gestures back towards the Palace.
"I am fine," I mutter, "What is wrong, Harry?"
Harry sighs and bends down, picking up a black file from beside his feet and handing it to me, "You want us to be an open book; here it is. I don't want you snooping through the office, I have nothing to hide, but there are sensitive things in that office that you do not need to see." Harry begins as I take the file from his hands, "This file… I am hesitant to give it to you, but if it stops us from arguing, so be it. This is information and pictures of all the suspects that could be linked to your father's murder. Matthew and I have been working with an undercover cop that Parliament hasn't paid off to keep quiet. I have a private detective working with us as well. Every person in this file are suspects and people to be wary of."
"Why are you—"
Harry cuts me off, "I don't want you arguing with me over it. That is why I am showing you. These people are all dangerous. I know what to look for when I am out. I can protect myself and don't need protecting. Matthew has enough faith in me to know I don't need security at all hours. I am safe, Anna. But you need to be aware of these people. Remember their faces in case they come around."
"Just because you can look after yourself, it doesn't mean something can't happen."
"I am trained to do what I do; I am qualified to deal with situations. Let me worry about safety, and you worry about governing the monarch. I am not trying to be condescending, but I don't want to fight with you over my safety. I also don't want you finding things you don't need to see."
"I didn't mean to find what I found. And I don't want to argue; I am just worried about you."
"I know," Harry nods, his eyes ultimately softening, "I am fine, Anastasia, Matthew and I know what we are doing. You wanted us to uncover who did this, and we are. You need to let me do my job as security personnel, and you need to let me do what needs to be done."
I become withdrawn and open the file, my eyes momentarily skimming the photos and the information written under each image. No surprise, half of these members are part of Parliament. "I am working on proving they are immoral. Your mother and I are coming up with a plan."
"My mother is in on this?"
Harry nods, "Yes, sweetheart."
"You're not a detective or an assassin, and you can't do this."
"I promised you I would find who did this. We know what we are doing. Can we please leave this conversation alone now?"
I hand Harry the file back and clear my throat, deciding that sometimes what I do not know will not hurt me. I understand where Harry is coming from. "So, you have another horse in Ascot? How rich are you?" I chuckle.
"Not very," Harry responds. "Speaking of money though," Harry begins, "There is a house up for sale in the countryside. Would you like to take a look at it? It would be a good escape for you, so you aren't always on royal grounds."
"I haven't even looked at the Duchy of Lancaster. I have no clue what is in that trust that I have now inherited."
I have no clue how the trusts work. My father took care of everything, making sure I had everything I needed. Now, I have no clue how much money is sitting in my name or what to do with it.
I know there is land, estates, and God knows what at my disposal. My father never prepared me for financial things; he prepared me for hosting banquets and talking to world leaders.
"Baby, I didn't ask if you would pay. I asked if you wanted to look at it and discuss it."
"We can," I agree, "But I don't want our homes to be a part of the royal estates or trusts."
"As you wish," Harry nods, "I will send you what I found. Look for something you want. I am going back to work." Harry steps away from the fence, beginning to walk away from me.
"Harry," I call his name, and he turns around to look at me, "Are you sure we are okay?"
Harry nods his head and steps closer to me, "Yes. I am going to work. I love you. But before I go," Harry leans closer, "There's a hidden trust; you might want to find it." Finally, Harry whispers before he kisses my cheek and shuffles away, leaving me alone near the stables.
As much as he says we are okay, there's a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. No matter what, I am not going to like the idea of Harry and Matthew doing what they are doing. When I was in an emotional rage, of course, I wanted them to avenge my father's murderer, but not I want them both safe. I know they are knowledgeable and highly trained men, but I don't want the wrong person to find out what they are doing and turn the tables. Likewise, I don't want Harry getting caught up in anything more than what he already has.
♛ ♛ ♛
With Harry being tied to me, he is at a greater risk than he was beforehand. I don't think he quite understands, but I need to trust that he knows what he is doing.
I convene at my desk, carrying on my day of signing documents, writing letters, organising the royal tour with my assistant and doing my best to come up with ideas for the charities I represent.
On top of everything, I also have the task of discovering more about the armed forces. As the Queen, I can declare war and peace under the Royal Prerogatives, meaning I must stay updated with all foreign affairs. This type of pressure is something I do not want. If there is anything, my father was best at understanding his troops and knowing what to do in every situation. My father may not have been the most beneficial at opening charity events or attaining the right charities to represent. Still, his military was at the top of his priority list. I can only assume his devotion is due to him being a military member himself.
My father served in the forces before I was born. I must continue his work and devotion to the troops, not just as Queen but also as his daughter. With each day that crosses, the list of things I need to tend to is getting more comprehensive, adding pressure to my shoulders. I am drowning in the depths of the royal monarchy.
I glance towards Estelle and hit my pen on the paper in front of me, "Estelle," I distract her from the letters she is sorting through, "Will you get me the report of the day's parliamentary proceedings and find me someone who knows something about the military... Who helped my father?"
"Your Majesty, Prince Louis was the one who helped him the most."
"Great, tell him I want him in my office, please," I smile towards her, "I don't care if he is busy with Madeleine."
Estelle chuckles and nods her head, "I will, and I will get you the report," she responds, standing from her position and marching out of my office, leaving me alone for the first time today.
I take a moment to adjust my task from royal duties to hunting for a property that will not be associated with the royal family-- something that will be mine and Harry's. I explore the internet, unsure of what I am looking for. All I genuinely recognise is I want something homey, something that isn't just four walls and a roof, something that will be a nice escape from a life that I have never wanted. I want a small, cosy place where I won't have to worry whether staff will be watching or if the security cameras are on. I want something ordinary, maybe something with a vegetable patch or a small garden for me to look after. I don't want anything substantial.
"Ah, Anna, my darling friend," Louis enters my office with his arms spread out with an extensive grin across his face, "This better be good because I was-- Well, nevermind what I was doing," Louis trails off with a shit-eating grin, prompting me to shake my head.
"I don't even want to know, Louis," I screw my nose up at the possible thoughts of what he was up to. "I need some help."
"You're beyond help."
"Oi," I laugh, "If I wanted a smartass, I would have summoned Harry."
Louis nods his head, "I would say he is more of the prick than a smartass," Louis laughs, "He is a prick but also a standup guy."
"I didn't call you in here to discuss Harry. I need some help with this military stuff," I gesture towards the paperwork on my desk, "I don't know the first thing about this. You were my Dad's second hand."
Louis moans and slumps down in the chair beside me, "That is privileged information, and so is whatever I tell you, so what is in it for me?" Louis questions, holding the papers in his hands and flicking through them.
"Well," I begin, "I will let you continue staying at the Palace rent-free while you screw my other friend," I respond with a smirk, "And I will keep your secrets about what you do in the rooms that you are not meant to be in."
Louis stares at me with his lips wide apart, "Yeah, my husband is second in commands with security, and he watches the cameras. So he views every dirty thing you have done between events."
"Bloody Harry," Louis shakes his head, "Okay, well, since the cat is out of the bag, I shall help," Louis accepts, taking my laptop and commencing to take control over the word document, typing away and explaining as he goes. "Before I get too deep into this, who else knows about the shenanigans I have done?"
"Just Harry, he turns the camera's off to shield your dignity."
Louis shrugs his shoulders, "Hm, good man," Louis nods, "So, I-"
I cut him off, "So you should continue to help me unless you want Harry to stop hiding your sex tapes."
"Ouch, that is so dirty. They're not sex tapes, Anastasia. I was hoping you wouldn't act like I haven't seen you and Harry sneak off."
"So, the military," I change the subject, gesturing towards my laptop, "You type and explain," I command, not wanting to address private matters any further, he may be my best guy friend, but we do not discuss these things when the Palace staff can hear us.
I glance up from the desk and recognise Pippa waltzing in with papers in her hands. Pippa grants me a smile and stares towards Louis, "What are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you too, Cruella de Vil," Louis mutters.
Pippa places the papers in her hand on my desk, not breaking her gaze from Prince Louis, "The thing is, I was born brilliant, born bad, and a little bit mad. I'm Cruella. So don't piss me off." She recites a line from the real Cruella.
"Oh, you bring shivers to my spine; how will I ever sleep at night?" Louis leans back in his chair, amused by the banter.
"On a bed of nails with any luck," Pippa mutters, "I need you to sign these," Pippa pushes the papers towards me, "Parliament needs to be opened."
I nod my head and bring the papers closer to me, and Louis takes them from me, "So, do you plan to let me be reinstated in Parliament or are you still banishing me?" Louis questions, taking me by surprise.
When was Louis part of Parliament to begin with?
"Louis, darling, you're not fit to be in Parliament. We have been through this."
"No," Louis shakes his head, "You have been through this. I suggest you let me in."
"And I suggest that you sit down. Little boys should be seen and not heard."
"Pippa," I scold, "He is still a Prince. You will show respect," I inform Pippa, reminding her of her position. Pippa may be prime minister, but she still has an obligation to respect all royal members. "I will open parliament when I am ready."
"Anna, I don't need to remind you of the symbolism of the unity of Parliament's three parts."
I heavily groan and nod my head, "Yes, the Sovereign, the House of Lords and the House of Commons. I know, I am not a moron, as I said, I will open it when I am ready, Pippa."
"I suggest you make a wise decision and open it sooner rather than later."
"Pippa," I begin, "I will force the dissolution of Parliament through a refusal of royal assent if you don't leave me alone." I threaten her, not wanting to open Parliament until I know what I want to do. I do not wish to open Parliament with the members I currently have.
"You cannot do that alone," Pippa shakes her head, "So, sign and open."
Harry descends into the room, and I perceive him wander closer, his eyes staring at Pippa from behind as I begin to speak, "Pippa, all due respect, but I will do it when I am ready."
Pippa has no desire to take my word.
Louis clears his throat, "Cruella, she has told you she will do it when she is ready."
"Better men have called me worse things," Pippa returns bitterly.
"I doubt that they were better men," Harry interrupts the small feud that is happening in my office, "Now, I suggest you curtsey to the Queen and walk out." Harry advances forward as Pippa turns around to observe him. "Don't look at me like that. Your stare doesn't scare me."
"It ought to."
"It doesn't," Harry responds, "Now, get out. I want to speak to my wife."
"Your wife is busy."
"Pippa," Harry settles himself, taking a breath and closing his eyes for a brief moment, "Sometimes dead is better, you know a little something about that, don't you?" Then, Harry questions, "Now, if you don't get out, you will find yourself with Henry."
"Is that a threat, Harry?"
Harry shakes his head, "No, merely a comment, now walk," Harry points towards the door.
Pippa doesn't speak, and she keeps her lips tight as she half curtseys to me and begins to make her way to the door.
"Oh, so him she listens to," Louis mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
Pippa glances over her shoulder, "He has the power to kill me, and he's better looking," Pippa responds, waving her hand and walking out of my office.
I stare at Louis and Harry before I shake my head, unsure of what just happened in my office. "Harry, my best pal." Louis grins, his cheery tone not working magic on Harry.
"What do you want?" Harry sighs, walking around the desk and coming towards me, leaving a kiss to the top of my head before he leans on my desk.
"Pippa seems to be scared of you, and I want to be back in parliament, make it happen."
Harry shakes his head, "I can't, I have no power over Parliament if I did… Well," Harry pauses, "Nevermind, I won't finish my sentence."
Louis pauses for a moment, looking towards me for help, but I don't intervene. I had no clue Louis wanted to be a part of political matters. "You're King, and you have just as much power as Anna."
"Sure, Louis, run in parliament, I don't give a damn," Harry responds, his tone of voice coming across as agitated.
"You're a bit hostile," I point out, regarding Harry's tone of voice and the way his mood hasn't changed since Pippa marched out. "What has you all rattled?"
"Is he not always hostile?" Louis chuckles, causing Harry to break a small smile.
Finally.
"I am," Harry nods, "I don't feel the best, and Pippa irks my nerves. Can we please get rid of her?"
Louis looks back down at the paperwork Pippa wants me to sign, "Since you have the means to kill her, why don't you? Do us all a favour."
"Oi," I interrupt the two men, "That is not how we speak around here. We do not condone murder. We have had enough murder."
"We can discuss a plan later," Louis shakes his head. "When she isn't around," Louis gestures towards me.
"Mhm," Harry hums, "You were so sweet when I first met you. So what the fuck happened?"
"He hung out with you," I murmur while Harry moves a few things around on my desk, purposely making sure they are not in their proper position. I don't know why Harry enjoys rearranging my desk.
"Anyway," Harry begins, "I came here to tell you that it isn't a good idea to open Parliament right now. I would recommend you don't listen to Pippa."… "With that being said, I am going to go lay down before I have to escort your mother through the tunnels."
"What do you know?" I instantly ask.
Harry shrugs, "She wants it open to try and gain more control. Goodbye, Louis. Goodbye, darling," Harry kisses my cheek before stepping away from my desk, not giving me much more detail to work with.
I wake up to a refreshing breeze tapping my skin that the soft sheets haven't covered.
When I finished my impromptu meeting with Louis, Harry wasn't back home; he was still on my mother's service. I am not sure where they went or what they were doing— all I know is that when Harry came home, he collapsed to the bed and fell asleep, barely managing to mumble a Goodnight to me.
I stretch my arm over to Harry's side, surprised when I notice it empty. I sit up in the bed and glance around, my eyes settling on the white balcony curtains whirling with the inadequate breeze. I get out of bed and follow the draft. My hand pushes the sheer white curtains to the side, and I step out on the balcony.
The early morning air is a little crisp for my liking, but it's soothing. The breeze drifts through my hair, the summery feeling still evident as another day of June will wake in a few hours. I cross my hands over my chest, shielding myself from the light breeze.
"Waking up alone is getting old," I softly make Harry aware of my presence, and he turns to gaze at me.
"Hey, why are you awake?" He asks, his voice low and flat, his arm resting in an L shape.
"I'm not sure. Are you getting ready to go to work?" I ask, considering it's around the time he obliges to start getting ready. His hours are all over the place, and I can never keep track. I rarely wake up to him still in bed.
Harry shakes his head, "I don't feel too well."… "The pain is getting worse." His voice is flat and laced with pain he’s trying to hide.
"In your shoulder?" I softly challenge, and Harry nods his head just as enough light touches his face for me to recognise the fullness of his eyes and most of the colour drained from his face. "Go sit down, and I'll be right back," I instruct as I step back into the room and grab a robe.
I wrap the robe around me and exit my room. The door closes behind me, and I look both ways of the hallway, stopping when I recognise Matthew with his arms crossed and his figure stepping closer to me.
"Where exactly are you planning to go?" He questions.
"I need an ice pack or two. Will you accompany me?" I softly request, already knowing the answer. There's no chance of Matthew allowing me to walk around at this hour by myself.
Matthew and I wander the hushed hallways, passing closed doors and darkened rooms. The Palace at this hour is quite eerie. There's no staff bustling around, and if there is, there's very few of them. Everyone is mostly asleep. The only people awake are the security team and the kitchen staff, who get up early to prepare for the day. "Do you ever sleep, Matthew?"
Matthew laughs and shrugs his shoulders, "On occasions, Her Majesty."
"Why must you address me formally?" I groan, nudging him as we progress to walk back to my room.
"You are the Queen."
"My name is Anastasia," I correct Matthew. "So, when are we letting my husband take over as head of security?" I half-heartedly joke, wanting to proceed with the walk with conversation and not silence.
"Perhaps, when I retire," Matthew responds, "Thought you wanted him out of the security business?"
I shrug my shoulders, "I do, but I know he wants to work, so who am I to stand in his way?"
"He's good at what he does. Best worker I've had in my entire career."
"Mhm," I hum, "So, how much closer are we to finding my fathers murderer?"
"Anna, I will not discuss that with you," Matthew shakes his head, "On a rare occasion, I made a deal with Harry. I promised him I wouldn't tell you."
"Go figure," I roll my eyes, "I just want to be in the loop."
"You know enough, focus on running the monarchy and let me and him do our job," Matthew presses in a polite manner. No matter how hard I press, I don't foresee Matthew or Harry giving me too much information.
I am sure they have leads and their suspicions, and I am sure they can prove who killed who, but I want to know.
While walking back, I think about Louis. He told me earlier that he had the opportunity to be in Parliament and was running until Pippa knocked him down. After that, Pippa refused to let him be in the office, and my father agreed with her, stating he was too young to be playing in the business.
I don't think Pippa declined him and banished him for his age, but more so because she knew he would not be on her side. Louis joined the political party, but Pippa refused to let him stay on.
He was forced into his royal duties since Pippa refused his entry into Parliament.
Louis' life is a bit complicated. He isn't a royal on standard terms. Louis' parents are royals of the Kingdom of Sweden. He will never become a King; he is a very distant Prince, around tenth in line for the throne. He will only ascend the throne on the death of the entire family. Despite being born a Prince, Louis was not born in Sweden. He was born in the United Kingdom, therefore making him a citizen here.
Due to my father's tight ties with Sweden, they agreed to allow Louis to represent both countries as he got older. When Louis turned eighteen, he kept his title as Prince but showed his dedication to upholding both ties, wanting to be a part of the British notions. My father agreed, taking him under his wing. Louis spent most of his childhood here with me. At the time, I am sure our parents thought we would grow up to get married. Instead, I married a commoner, and he is dating an heir to the throne. Madeleine will ascend the throne on her mother's death; she will become the Queen of Denmark.
Louis wants to regain his role in Parliament, and I think he would be exceptional, but I don't believe Pippa will allow it. She will fight me tooth and nail, and I don't want to fight her on more issues. Louis will have to find a way to enter Parliament. Perhaps Harry can help him figure something out.
📷
I move into my room and close the door behind me, surprised when I don't recognise Harry on the balcony or in the bed. I follow the dim light to the bathroom and locate Harry leaning over the sink with the water running and his arm in an L shaped being held by his hand.
"What happened?"
"I moved my shoulder the wrong way, and the pain… fuck, the pain was so bad it had me throwing up," Harry breathes out, "Go back to bed, I'll be fine."
"I'm not going back to bed," I respond, caressing my hand to his back and rubbing soothing circles, "Do you want me to call the doctor up here?" I offer, clutching a face towel and running it under the water before holding it to his forehead.
"I don't think she can do anything."
"She can give you something for the pain," I suggest, dabbing his reddened cheeks and shifting away from a few stray and fallen curls from his forehead, "How long has it been like this?"
"It has been getting progressively worse over the last month. I can't move my shoulder much," Harry confesses.
"You've been lying to me."
"I didn't want you to worry," Harry responds, "I'm okay, really, please go back to bed." Harry leans away from the face towel and gestures towards the bedroom, still cradling his arm.
Harry and I step into the bedroom, and he sits on the edge of the bed with a groan. I grab the ice packs I ventured out to get, and I gingerly sit beside him on the bed. "It's going to be cold, but it'll help with the pain," I inform Harry.
"Anna, please don't touch my shoulder, I'm begging. I can't handle more pain."
"It won't be painful. It's just a cold pack," I assure Harry, holding the cold pack to his shoulder ever so gently. Harry instantly lets out a breath and bows his head. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Been a bit busy," Harry responds, "Don't have time for this. Have the Ascott coming up and your royal tour."
"Well, you're going to have to make time," I sigh, holding the ice pack in place. "How are you feeling?"
"I am wonderful," Harry sarcastically responds, "Never felt better."
"No need for sarcasm," I mutter, rubbing his lower back while he takes a few deep breaths.
Harry has never been one to complain. On the contrary, he has barely missed a day of work since he began working at the Palace; even when he is sick, he has always showed up and done his best.
The royal doctor steps into the room and looks at me, "You look fine?" She challenges, scanning me up and down. I shake my head and gesture to Harry on the bed.
It is a change of events. For once, it isn't me calling for her to assist me; it is him.
"I am guessing you didn't follow up post-surgery, huh?" she questions, stepping towards Harry and bending down to kneel beside the bed.
Harry grunts and shakes his head, not bothering to defend himself. I had no clue things were this bad with his shoulder. I was under the impression the surgery went well, and he was on the road to a full recovery. He didn't show too many signs of pain until just recently. The doctor begins to check his vitals before taking a breath and touching his shoulder, putting pressure on him just enough to cause him to hiss. "I barely touched you," she defends, "Can you lift your arm?"
"If I could, do you think you would be here?" Harry snarls, letting out a heavy breath before apologising for his tone of voice.
"I am not going to stand here and waste time, and I am calling for you to go to the Hospital. I'll call for an ambulance."
"No," Harry shakes his head, "I can drive."
"Not a chance," the doctor shakes her head, "I know you are aware of what protocol is, and this is my protocol. You need surgery, and you're getting it, now," she informs him, taking her phone from her pocket and unlocking it. Harry groans in the background and continues to shake his head. He disputes the idea of an ambulance, arguing until we agree to find another way to get him to where he needs to be.
He's pretty stubborn, but I understand why he doesn't want an ambulance. He doesn't want attention drawn to him and doesn't believe he needs to take an ambulance from someone else when he is in perfect condition to wait.
♛ ♛ ♛
I remain in the hospital room with Matthew, both remaining in silence and staring at the oblique walls. At four in the morning, there isn't much to do or say. Against Harry's wishes, we brought him to King Edward VII's Hospital; he refused to be taken by ambulance, so we compromised and took him to the private Hospital by a car Matthew drove. He had exactly two minutes to sign medical papers before he was whisked off to surgery.
The Hospital is modest, with 56 beds and boasting more than four nurses to every patient. The Hospital has been in the family for decades. The Hospital was established in 1899 to treat injured soldiers fighting in the Second World War.
Just down the corridor from reception is the well-stocked library. It baffles me that there is such an extensive library, but others may want to read while waiting in anticipation. I don't want to read a novel about a love story, science or really anything. I want to be told that the surgery went well and Harry is okay.
I hear my phone go off, and I ignore it, continuing to stare at the walls, my foot tapping against the floor.
Ding, Ding, Ding.
I tiredly grab my phone, the dinging sounding every second causing me to glance towards Matthew. Matthew raises a brow, the irritating noise also coming from his phone.
I blink a few times at my screen, "You've got to be kidding me," I sigh profoundly, reading the banner on my phone that displays breaking news. "How? How does anyone know?" I immediately ask, clicking the link and beginning to read the article.
"Breaking news, on the advice of the Royal Highness's Doctor, one of Britain's royal members has been taken to Hospital. It is unknown which royal has been rushed in. The unknown monarch was taken by private car to King Edward VII Hospital in London.
All official engagements for this week, including the Queen's trip to Rome, will more than likely be postponed. The Queen is likely not to attend the Ascott. More information to come soon."
I glance towards Matthew, who shakes his head before he taps the phone screen and touches it to his ear. "I need Police officers to guard the entrance of King Edward VII Hospital, now." Matthew speaks into his phone, "And I need two guards at the entrance of room 15." Matthew ends the call and peers towards me, "Either someone saw us, or there is a palace snitch."
"What do we do?"
"Good question," Matthew bites on his lip as he operates his fingers through his hair. "I uh... I do not know. It is your decision... What should we tell the press?"
"It is none of their business. Harry is a private man."
Matthew nods, "He won't be too happy if we release his name."
"Can we say the articles are fake?"
"There are pictures…" Matthew shakes his head, "I'll think of something, don't stress over it. I'll handle it."
"Okay," I agree, "What do I do about a snitch? I don't want a snitch in my Palace."
"I will handle it. But, unfortunately, there are a few new guys who Harry and I didn't trust."… "Do I have permission to fire anyone I deem unfit?"
"Be my guest," I agree, putting my phone down.
I do not want my trust broken within my Palace. I should trust that all staff will keep their lips tightly sealed when it comes to private matters.
Harry will be pissed to find out that the media have written about this.
If there is a snake in my Palace, I will not allow them to get away with speaking to the press. Over the years, staff have been known to sell stories to the media for the right price. It drove my Father insane, but sometimes he understood the circumstances. As much as the staff are paid as well, there have been times during the years that the staff have not received enough to make ends meet.
♛ ♛ ♛
Harry and I relax on the balcony overlooking the beautiful garden behind the hospital, both of us taking the time to inhale the morning air and watch the gardens come to life as the sun continues to rise. Harry has a light blanket draped around his shoulders while in a shoulder sling to stop him from moving his shoulder too much. He looks miserable, but he isn't in as much unbearable pain that he was in and throwing up.
His free hand holds his cup of orange juice, and he screws his nose up with every drink he takes. "It isn't coffee," Harry huffs, "A little coffee won't hurt."
"You're on morphine, no," I shake my head, leaning back on my chair and enjoying the quiet morning.
"Fair point," Harry sighs, "Your first Royal tour is coming up. How do you feel about that?"
"Why are you making small talk?" I curiously ask, "You're meant to be sleeping."
"Hasn't fully kicked in yet," Harry answers, "I'm asking because I'm not going to be able to make it for the first part of your Royal tour."
I grow quiet, well aware that there's a good chance he won't be on tour with me. However, I had an idea after the events of the last few hours. Harry being in as much pain as he is in can only mean one thing— his surgery wasn't successful, and he will need another.
I have no desire to do the tour alone, I want him with me, but it isn't his fault. There comes a time I have to be a big girl and do what Queens do— keep moving forward.
I can do it on my own; I do not need him. I want him. I know the difference.
"I know," I softly sigh, "I suppose I'll think of something."
"I'm sorry, Anna."
"I know, I heard from the doctor… it was crucial to get it fixed," I remind him of the words she told him. She was very blunt with telling him.
"I don't think I can physically go; they're not going to let me. They want to do another surgery in a few days to fix the last part." Harry begins.
"I don't want you to push it back. I'll be fine. I've done tours before. I'm sure this will go smoothly. And maybe you'll be able to meet me for the last part of the tour?" I ask, and Harry nods his head.
"I'll do my best if I ever make it out of this hell hole."
"It isn't that bad," I glance over at him, and he raises a brow, disagreeing with me.
Harry cocks his head to the side, "Darling, if you weren't here, I'd be staring at the wall. But, unfortunately, all they have for entertainment are books."
"Well, you love to read."
"Not when I'm in pain and can barely see from my meds."
"Makes it even more fun," I joke, gently nudging him, "Do you want to go to the Palace? They might release you."
"Baby, they're not going to let me go until I have my last surgery. Then, according to them, I'm at flight risk of not coming back," Harry laughs, "And they're right, that's why I'm in this position because I didn't listen."
"You never listen," I respond, "Well, once your surgery is done, we can have you taken to the palace and have you cared for there."
"Can you be my nurse?"
I shake my head, "No, you have a smirk on your lips, which means one thing."
"Oh, come on," Harry whines, "I need a little TLC."
"You get enough TLC." I chuckle, shaking my head, "You're getting sleepy. Back inside, you go," I gesture inside, standing to my feet and holding his arm as he stands up as well.
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fagundescamila · 4 years ago
Text
Power Couple #7 (Severus Snape x Reader)
Heeeeeello again! I'm sorry it took so long again! I promiss I'll try harder to update the story faster 😅
Some reminders: english is not my native language, so expect errors and if you asked to be tagged but weren't, send me a message and I'll try to fix it on the upcoming chapters
Tagzzz: @lizlil @misselsbells06 @mitchiesdungeon @sleepiesapphicxoxo @severuslovebot
As soon as they left the room, Severus' mind started to race and he thought about what he would say and the awkward silence that would inevitably fall upon them while they walked towards the dungeons.
But again, as it always seemed to happen to his impressions about their interactions, he was wrong. 
"It's so weird to talk to all of them without feeling judged or under evaluation…" Y/N commented. 
"Your former teachers, you mean?" He asked, almost relieved by the fact that they had just so easily started a conversation. 
"Yes! They seemed weirdly interested!" 
"It happens whenever they see old students. It was like that with me, when I started teaching here, then with Lupin…"
"What do you mean by 'old', may I ask you?" She asked, pretending to be offended. 
"I didn't mean… After all, I'm..." He turned to her as they reached the corridor that led to the potions' room. 
"I know, Severus! I'm just teasing." Y/N laughed. Snape chuckled and shook his head. 
As they were about to enter the classroom, they heard some hurried steps behind them and, right after that, someone calling for Y/N. Severus recognized Hermione's inquisitive tone without having to turn around. He rolled his eyes in annoyance before facing the girl. 
"Sorry to bother, Y/N! And you too, Professor Snape…" Hermione hesitantly said. Y/N smiled at her and signalized for her to go on and Snape had to fight the urge to roll his eyes again. "But I wanted to ask you something! I was wondering if you had any recommendations on books about Defense Against the Dark Arts." 
"Oh, I see!" Y/N said, impressed by the girl's attitude. "Since you're asking, I assume you covered all the titles recommended for the school year, am I right?" Hermione confirmed with a shy nod. "Okay, so I'm going to make some not-so-obvious recommendations, since it seems you already dominate the basics, is that ok?" Another nod. "I'd say you look for Confronting the Faceless…" At that Severus couldn't help but be impressed. "Quentin's bibliography is also really good, I think you probably have already read some of his books, but it's always a good choice and…I probably shouldn't…"
"Please do! I'd love any recommendation, really!" The girl asked. 
"Alright. This will sound a bit unorthodox, but you're a clever witch!" Y/N stated and Hermione smiled proudly. "I'll recommend that you look for the Dark Arts basic theories and practices. Search for books like Secrets of the Darkest Art, Confringo Spellbok and Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed… That's a fair starting point, I believe." Y/N then looked intensely at the girl that seemed in shock. "Don't get me wrong! I'm only recommending this 'cause I believe in your good intentions and I know that you'll only get to read them if one of your Professors allow it. I know it sounds weird, but I have this theory that in order to fight something, you have to understand it first. Trust me, if you know how a spell works, it's easier to learn a counterspell, if you know the poison, you can make an antidote and so on!"
"I see! You're absolutely right! Thank you so much!" Hermione said, already looking forward to her next study sessions. 
"Anytime!" Y/N smiled. "Just be a little critical with those readings and keep foccused on your actual goal, these books can be very persuasive sometimes…"
"Don't worry, I'll keep that in mind! Thanks again!" She was about to leave, but refrained herself. "Professor Snape, would you… write that permission for me?"
"I'll think about it, Miss Granger." He said with an eyebrow raised, but there was something in his tone that gave her some hope and she left with a smile.
"Did I just put you in an awkward situation?" Y/N asked, her tone and smile already asking for an apology.
"You mean making an insufferable teenager start bothering me about books? As if they didn't annoy me enough?" He asked sarcastically, which made her chuckle. Severus smiled at himself, almost proud of the fact that somehow - he didn't know exactly - he seemed to always make her laugh.
"My bad… But you can always refuse to let her read those books…" She said as they entered the room. "I mean… They are a bit disturbing, but…"
"I know… But I agree with everything you said to her… It's an unusual study approach, but it works. And if there's any student I would ever allow to read those kind of books at a young age, it would be Granger…" He said sitting at his desk to write the permission. "But you never heard me say it." 
"My lips are sealed." She smiled at him, amused by the way he tried to appear cold and distant to his students when he actually cared about them. "So, those essays…" She started, leaning against the table, looking at his writing. 
"Yes, I read them and got quite intrigued by that one with the brazilian herb…" He took a moment to process the fact that she was so nonchalantly standing really close to him. It wasn't exactly intimidating, but he felt his cheeks burning, so he decided not to look at her. "I actually did some experiments of my own…"
"Really?" She sounded impressed, which made him smile a bit and raise his head to see her amused face. "Can I see?"
Severus struggled with himself, debating if he would share his experiments with someone or keep them private, as he always did. He didn't know if he actually trusted the woman in front of him or if he just wanted to impress her, but he was inclined to show her his studies. 
"You don't have to, though." Y/N was quick to say, seeing he wasn't sure about showing his work. "I mean…" But Severus didn't let her finish.
"Come." He said getting up, a smirk on his face as he led her to his private chambers behind the classroom. He held the door open for her and she entered his living room. 
"So this is where a Hogwarts' Professor stays during the school year." She said taking a look around. 
"A potion master, yes." He confirmed. "It was Slughorn's chambers before me." 
"I see! It's nice! I mean… to have a house inside Hogwarts." She trailed off.
"It is, I guess…" He went to the kitchen and signalized for her to follow. With a wave of his hand he made the water in the tea kettle start to boil. "Fancy some tea?"
"Sure!" Y/N said, with a smile. Another wave of his hand and two cups of perfectly brewed tea were ready. "Okay, you gotta be kidding me, right? You're a potion master, so you make better tea than the rest of us, mere mortals, is that so? Are you an amazing cook as well? That's so cliché, Severus…" 
Severus laughed lightly and opened the door to his personal lab, allowing her to enter before him. "I don't know about the cooking…" 
"I don't believe you." She teased. "But that's a topic for some other time, let's see what you've been working on! I just have to remind you that I probably won't understand a single thing about your experiments."
"Now I don't believe you." He teased back and allowed himself a smirk, one that she couldn't see because his lips were hiding behind the cup of tea. Severus approached one of the cauldrons that was covered by a heavy cover. "I began by reproducing the author's recipe, which turned out quite well… The effects of the herb she mentioned really perform as she predicted. The calming draught that resulted is basically as effective as the original one." Snape explained as Y/N stepped closer to take a look at the potion. He observed her features as she seemed to really pay attention and for a moment or two, he forgot to continue. "But then I figured that, since this herb can replace a large number of ingredients, it meant that, there should be a way of making this potion stronger by the use of other supplementing elements." He then took the cover from three smaller cauldrons. "I've been able to manage some minor advances, but there are some ingredients missing in Hogwarts' storage."
"Really? Rare ones?" Y/N asked, still looking intensely at the potions, amazed by his progress. 
"Some of them, yes. But mostly foreing insumes." Severus explained.
"Do you have a list? I could check the Ministry lab and storage and fetch you some of them, if they happen to be available there." She said looking up to face him, Snape raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Severus, the Ministry has more ingredients than we care to use. I'm sure no one will even notice some of them are missing. And even if they do, as head of the department, I'm in charge of the storage." She shrugged. "It's better that you use it than to let everything rot inside the aurors' cabinets."
"In that case, I can make a list and send it over to your office." Severus said. "Thank you."
"Oh, don't thank me!" Y/N tried to suppress a smile. "It's not like it's gonna be free of charges, you know…"
"No?" Somehow, he couldn't take her seriously. 
"Definitely not." She took a sip from her tea. "You didn't think I would simply give you the ingredients, did you?" Y/N had this almost devious smirk playing at her lips as she watched Severus become more and more confused. "I mean, I have to see your list to know the actual price, but I'm guessing that at the very least, you're gonna have to buy me some drinks."
Snape almost choked on his tea. Was she really implying what he thought she was? Sooner that afternoon he was thinking about possible ways to ask her out and gave up on that idea because it seemed completely ridiculous and here she was, making it look like a joke.
"Is that so? That's how the Ministry charges for potions' supplies?" He managed to ask, trying with all his might to sound nonchalant.
"Hey, I don't make the rules…" She feigned innocence. "If you still want those ingredients, send me the list tomorrow and we can discuss the payment later." She shrugged again. "You know better, of course, but I'd say a dinner is a fair price considering you'll get to develop your researches."
"I'm sorry, did you say dinner?" He asked, already playing along. "I thought you said earlier it was just some drinks…" His sarcasm was finally being put to good use against her.
"I believe I said 'at least' some drinks. Who knows? Those ingredients can be really expensive sometimes…"
"Right…" Snape said, trying to keep the serious façade. 
"Anyway… If you still want them, send me an owl with your list and I'll see what I can do." She said finishing her tea.
"I'll think about it…" Now he was just trying not to agree with going out with her right away. 
"Of course you will." She chuckled. "I guess I'll leave you to your thoughts for the night then! It's getting late... Can I use your floo network?" Severus nodded and led the way to his living room. 
"I'll send you the list tomorrow." Severus said as he watched her step into the fireplace. 
"Good!" Y/N smiled at him. "Bye, Severus!" With that, she left his chambers in the green flames brought by the floo powder. 
Severus stared at the empty fireplace for sometime, thinking about the nonsense of everything that happened.
For some reason, he didn't seem capable to stop smiling for the rest of the night.
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sanchoyo · 3 years ago
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danny phantom, season 3 episodes 3-6 thoughts!
see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3
-johnny was actually pretty civil with danny and left when he asked! thats nice. also, SKULKER?? HAD A FRAMED PICTURE OF EMBER?? oooo fuck wait had they established they were a Thing Before?? I dont think so. thats weird. its like that country boy/goth girl meme lmfao. I think i am going to choose to ignore this new info and pretend I didnt hear it. 100% unrelated to the jazz/ember fanart I already drew and posted....😳
-LADIES NIGHT EPISODE THIS IS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT. wish it didnt really center around the guys or them being pissed at them, but. willing to bet this was written by men lol
-THEY ERASED ALL THE MEN??? meanwhile, jack and danny are fishing at. silent hill or something. im glad jack is trying to read a parenting book and making an Attempt. (theyre at lake erie, but, they made it actually eerie...thats fun)
-the girls alt outfits...cute. EMBER MADE A NEW SONG TOO!!! kinda. jazz being one of the backup singers and being AWFUL. NOOOO
-'how are we going to get kitty to blow a kiss?' 'she'll have to think there are still some males in town!' ...i dont know how to break it to you, but I dont know that a 100% het girl would wish for all men to Begone. I think. I mean im not a het or a girl so I dont really know for sure. she Is probably Bi tho. esp having the other ladies in town chanting NO MEN!!! excitedly............(then again, the kiss is to get Rid of men, so, she probably would have blown it at the ladies only if they were actively trying to attack/stop them, so...I MEAN. THE DRESSING LIKE DANNY BIT WAS SO EXTRA)
-I feel like an all female cast ep couldve been way way way way cooler than that was. like. why was it still somehow all about Men. ...anyway. (where was valerie...)
-next ep opens with the observants, and, way way more of them than I expected...existed? I mean I guess them being a council/jury of some kind is what I expected from their first appearance (bc at that time they were basically TELLING clockwork to kill danny, not asking,, so I figured they had SOME kind of authority) but. there were so many. anyway, here goes vlad! letting his own hubris go brrrr. releasing a weather ghost for political gain! #justvladthings
-okay say what you will about him (he IS an asshole) but having an umbrella with his own face on it and more prepared to share is SUPER FUNNY. and him being fanned by huge wads of money by his bodyguards. SO ineffective but so Dramatic. He UNDERSTANDS that if youre rich you need to be. you know. obnoxious and kinda eccentric about it! fuckign hate when rich people are boring about it. I would trust vlad with nothing except to not be a boring rich asshole who wears...fucking khaki or some shit. man knows his Presentation Skills. and that 'V' chair in his mayoral office. is that fucking embroidered?
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-maddie get your MAN PLEEEEASSSE. IM SO EMBARRASSED FOR HER. the way jack stays simping for this man. in FRONT OF HIS WIFE!!!! ...my god its like a love triangle. jack clearly loves vlad, who loves maddie, who loves jack. jack fenton is at the very least bi, right................. this is an OBSESSION . 'THE V MAN COMETH'???? i...my god. (also, on a serious note, to have a friend THIS SUPPORTIVE...and still be SUCH A DICK TO HIM (TRYING TO KILL HIM AND STEAL HIS WIFE??) NOT COOL VLAD. JACK IS YOUR 1 AND /ONLY/ HYPE MAN. if someone loved and supported me THIS HARD...LIKE. CMON DUDE.
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-STOMP the fucking GAS, JACK
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-this would make a great shirt design, looks like a metal band design! we love The Maelstrom
-oh, so vlad did in fact get a mansion in amity park. and its purple! good color choice! not as flashy as a CASTLE or MURDER CABIN, but still pretty eccentric, which I appreciate.
-...vlad knows the difference between picasso and da vinci? in the ep last post where we were watching him fail at conquering every historical time ever he didnt seem to know history well enough to like. be effective...was vlad taking art history at college?? (was he an art MAJOR??? we never DID KNOW WHAT HE WENT TO SCHOOL FOR. I kinda assumed business because in the masters of time ep he was still rich without ghost powers so he had to have..known something about business or something, right...but also, art and or theater FITS HIS PERSONALITY. possibly also something science-y, I guess, but I always felt like he got roped into that, esp how pessimistic he was about the ghost portal in the flashbacks to college, like, i felt like he was just there for maddie and was uninterested/un-invested at the time...)
-THIS GHOST JUST ELECTROCUTED MADDIE (THE CAT) BITCH!! THATS MY FAVORITE MADDIE!!! vlad going after vortex and being ~shocked~ .....WHEN. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN. THAT YOUR ACTIONS. HAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!
-the way this random man with a camera sees the mayor laying in an alley covered in TRASH AND DECIDES TO TAKE A PICTURE HAHAH
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*snap* this ones going in my cringe compilation!
-vlad 'if we're going to defeat vortex, we're going to have to do it together!' *immediately dips after dropping danny off in front of vortex* JKASDFHKJHJKN
-DANNY CAN DUPLICATE!!! ...he couldnt even attack with it, but he DID IT!!! INTO (4) OF HIMSELF!!! SO PROUD!!!!!!!!!!
-'THE ROLLER COASTER EMOTIONS OF A TEENAGER THREATEN MY PLANS!' ...0 self awareness of his own dramatic moodiness. incredible, how dumb this man is. its very close to circling around to endearing, if he was less of an asshole. at least its very very funny to see danny shooting him with tiny lightning bolts anytime he's even slightly irritated! vlad you should be nice to danny anyway. this is what you GET
-...making sandwiches and ice cream and playing video games with your nephew is a totally normal thing. WHY is vlad acting like this is the end of the world. if you were a GOOD UNCLE YOU WOULD ALREADY BE DOING THESE THINGS!!! bitch I make my nephew food all the time and dont forget what he does and doesnt like. if u didnt know danny didnt want tomatoes, thats on u. if u, a grown adult, are gonna piss of the 14 yr old by not letting him win, u deserve to have to pay for the arcade machines he ruins because he now has uncontrollable storm powers because YOU THREW HIM INTO A FIGHT WITH THE STORM GHOST. fuck u vlad. paypal me $400,000 while ur at it tho. (also, gamer vlad confirmed)
-VLAD CAN COOK THOUGH???! I assumed he had...people working for him that did that. I mean. billionaires usually dont do that. then again, we've only seen those vultures working for him (and I guess the dairy king was AT his old mansion, but it was never really clarified if he worked there...I think he probably just Hung Out and they Enjoyed Cheeses Together. thats what I think, I dont think a KING would be working for anyone and also the dairy king was nice <3) but then again he would be a private person and we cant have anyone accidentally finding Ghostly Things, so...still, that's hilarious. pour one out for that really cute banana split that got ruined 2 seconds later
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-vlad just fucking picking danny up and THROWING HIM AT VORTEX TWICE WITHIN LIKE A MINUTE. JUST ABSOLUTELY LAUNCHING HIM. BITCH THATS MY SON BE CAREFUL!!! HES GOT ORGANS AND THINGS!!!!
-danny seeing those animal commercials and feeling sad is the biggest 2000s throwback so far. i legitimately had to change the channel or walk out of the room when those came on bc id CRY AND BE SAD ABOUT THEM FOR DAYS AFTER. fuck those commercials and fuck that IN THE ARMMMS OF AN ANGELLLL song 😭
-'vlads ego almost got the town destroyed!' yes danny thats the entire episode. the entire series anytime vlad shows up honestly. this episode was just him being really embarrassing the entire time, and, me laughing about it. 10/10 would laugh at him again
-NEXT EP WE HAVE A SHAPESHIFTING GHOST?? I've said it before but shapeshifting is the power I would want when asked those 'what superpower do you want' questions...its the Best power! this guy looks like a homestuck character. ive never read homestuck but thats the vibe
-I love every time we see tuckers family, they are by far the most functional family. and dash has a lil chihuahua!!! named pookie!!! i am crying (I've had 3 chihuahuas, so I am very biased, but...) AND HE WATCHES THE ROMANCE CHANNEL WITH POOKIE. POOKIE I WILL DIE FOR YOU YOU SWEET LITTLE BABY.
-danny can lift a bus! I shouldn't be surprised, but i am proud of my son. hes got lil kid fans. i am going to cry about this
-JAZZ KEEPS A SCRAPBOOK WITH DANNY'S LIL HEROICS AND NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS!!! we've actually seen it on her floor before, but I didnt realize it was a scrapbook!! thats sooo cute.
-...and danny has to stand there listening to his parents saying danny phantom sucks and is a 'filthy ghost' and calling him egotistical...i am once again stealing their kids!
-THIS GHOST RIPPING JAZZ'S SCRAPBOOK!!! ILL KILL YOU. SHE WORKED HARD ON THAT!!! BITCH
-yes, maddie, the one with red eyes is For Sure Actually Your Son. ignore the, red eyes... (CLEARLY she hasnt watched the other 2 eps where danny has been evil, she doesnt know red eyes= evil!!!)
-'billy fenton'.......................
-danny being stuck as phantom in his own house, no way out is a fucking NIGHTMARE. his parents pointing giant weapons against him and SHOOTING AT HIM. THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE.
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-NINE INCH NAILS POSTER.
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-this is the most screenshot of all time
-amorpho turning into mr. lancer because hes 'someone no one will want to be around' BUT HES WRONG, I WOULD BEFRIEND AND HANG OUT WITH MR LANCER SO FAST.
-tucker dressing as danny, now I have the full Tucker set of him being sam and also being danny. also saying 'the ghost...uh...RIPPED MY FACE OFF.' and then running. SMOOTH. NOT AT ALL CONCERNING TO ANY PARENTS.
-sam accepts the toast from jack. and then 2 seconds later is like 'why am i eating this.' THIS SHOWS HUMOR IS SO UNEXPECTED SOMETIMES ITS REALLY GOOD. and then the scene after, mr lancer running into his ghost doppelganger and being like 'YOURE GORGOUS' THEN FAINTING. I AM CRYING. AND DASH FAINTING TOO.
-sam disguising herself as danny again to help tucker run from the fentons. but leaving him shirtless in the streets. incredible. 'plEASE DOnt NOTice MY FACELessNESS I MUST LIVE IN EXILE' this episode is destroying me the humor in this show is exactly my brand of corny and cheesy
-the impromtu story made up by danny and amorpho to explain stuff to the fentons. my god they are both such bad liars. but amorpho is a good egg. wish danny wouldnt have said he didnt wanna see him in town again!! I want him to be reoccurring. not that thats gonna matter since I'm almost done with the series, but the idea of this being the Only Time We See him is :(
-NEXT EP SAYS STARRING MARK HAMILL??????!!! hello ! mr . joker....mr. star wars.... I feel like I should be. idk. taking off a hat im not wearing in respect. I shouldnt be surprised tho bc hes in a lot of cartoons as a very good voice actor, and dp has already had a lot of talented ones so I've been looking out for ones I might know, but....mr. hamill....
-sam has her own greenhouse, names all the plants, and says thank you to them (in the languages from where the plants are from) whenever she harvests from them. thats SO cute. and her lil gothy lunch box...
-and danny's lil red fuzzy lined jacket!!! ive said it before but every time the characters get alt outfits im like :D
-danny has ice powers now!!! THATS WHAT FROSTBITE MEANT. HE KNEW SOMEHOW WAY BACK THEN
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-THIS SHOW NEVER LETS YOU FORGET VLAD IS A BILLIONAIRE, HUH.
-danny's lil 'holy hibiscus!' first off the 50s batman swearing is hilarious. 2nd. my username is from the flower sanchoyo hibiscus, so, shoutout to ME this ep. hi :)
-EURGH UNDERGROWTH MAKING EVERYONE PLANT ZOMBIES. HIVEMIND PLOTS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME. and this dude made the city SO overtaken so quickly like how long was danny asleep?? oh god
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-evil fucked up sam! now the whole trio has gone evil at some point! the voice actress did a really, really good job with making her sound like a zombie...
-frostbite's paws are so so so big compared to danny. oh my god. i want to hug the snow dog...
-the far frozen has an advanced medical stuff!!! very cool. very smart snow dogs
-im so glad danny has a friendly ghost snow dad to explain this new power and teach him!!! this is so sweet. DANNY'S GHOST SENSE WAS A PART OF HIS ICE POWER?? OOOH. COOL. we love a training montage!!!
-danny saying if he cant defeat overgrowth, that he'd want to stay with frostbite...oh my god...do you think this is the first real supportive adult figure in his life (I am NOT counting his parents because they threaten him on the daily even if they dont realize it.) I mean mr lancer is a Teacher, but he was also nice but this is different, but this is a GHOST WHO IS WILLING TO HELP HIM with his powers and also will help him when hes injured and is so so nice and comparatively so much more mature than 90% of the adults in this show!!!! god. dad frostbite is my everything.
-the framing and lighting this episode, and all the angles...they went all OUT and it looks really really good. this is my nightmare scenario, tho. like, FUCK zombies and dead city zones and hivemind shit. and using the humans as 'nutrients for the children' i am going to THROW UP.
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-MALEFICENT VIBES WITH THE HORNS AND GREEN EYES! this costume kicks so much ass. sam is now mark hamills daughter, I guess.
-danny's ice powers making his eyes blue!!! thats neat. and him going for the roots underground was SO SMART. i will not stand for danny ever thinking hes stupid, hes SO smart.
almost done with the show... :"( thats a sad thought!!!
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songweretson · 3 years ago
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I don't know if anyone will read this, but it's been on my mind this morning, so I'm going to try and put it into words.
There are women who have big breasts who enjoy it.
There are women who enjoy being sexy, and embracing their sexuality. They might not actually have a lot of sex. They might even be virginal. But it's still a part of them, and it makes them who they are.
Some women like being the vixen, or the seductress.
It isn't about getting attention from men, or from women, depending on their preference. It's who they are. For some women, male attention is a perk. They don't see it as negative when it's kept in proper perimeters.
I wear a 36N bra. My full bust measurement is 48", with a 36" waist. (And that's before I put my corset on. But that's a different conversation.)
I grew up in a very conservative, religious home. And people (usually other women) would tell me to be more modest. To cover up. I wasn't even showing skin - they just didn't like that I wore tight clothes, and I wasn't trying to hide my figure. It wrecked havoc on my self image, and I won't even talk about all the guilt that was associated with my sexuality. (Not even being bisexual. Just how I felt about being sexual at all.)
I used to be able to go to comics to see women who were built like me. Especially a character like Mary Jane Watson, who was a bikini model. And she always looked so happy when she was modeling. It made me realize, "oh, maybe being built like this isn't bad. Maybe I can have fun with it."
Then people complained that "women don't look like that!" Maybe I don't look exactly like MJ - my belly and legs aren't that toned. But that's okay. I still related to her, and saw myself in her. But at some point it seems like they decided MJ couldn't be taken seriously as a model/actress, so they moved her away from that and into journalism, or management, or whatever it is now. And it broke my heart.
MJ had made me realize I didn't have to be ashamed of who I was. So seeing her move into something "more serious", seeing her curves reduced and covered up, just reminded me of all the times I was told to cover up. That wanting attention was wrong. That I should be a "godly woman".
Other female characters lost their curves as well, but MJ was the one that hit home.
The other character that changed my life was Jessica Rabbit. But no sooner did I find her then I started seeing people saying that she wasn't "drawn that way", she was just "drawn by a man". Which ignores the female animators who worked on her designs, and the actress who pushed for more extreme curves. Or saying that, if she isn't just supposed to be eyecandy, then why not redesign her. Which ignores the fact that Jessica is the best developed character in the whole movie, and the whole point of her character is that you shouldn't judge someone based on their looks, or rumors.
Again. A 36N bra. I'm "drawn that way". So every time someone criticizes a character that is, it just echoes all the times I was told that I was somehow wrong.
Then Disney put her in a trench coat, and said she can't just be a lounge singer anymore. She has to be a private investigator solving crimes. Because, sure. That totally fits her character. But I digress.
So many books I read as a girl were about tomboy girls who wanted to wear pants, or be knights, etc. All I got from that was reinforcing the narrative that my breasts were bad, and that wanting to wear pretty dresses, and host tea parties, made me "silly".
Which doesn't feel all that different from the church telling me to cover up, and be quiet.
I get representation. I get having a variety of different characters. Some women are warriors. Some of modest. Some are vixens.
I'm just so tired of seeing different types of women treated as inferior, or "wrong".
I tried being a tomboy. I tried being tough. Because I was told that was who I was supposed to be. That that was an "empowered woman", and it was what would make me happy.
But at the end of the day, it was exhausting, and left me miserable. And it made me hate myself.
This wasn't supposed to be so long or personal, I just want people to understand that, when they condemn a character like MJ or Jessica Rabbit, you're also condemning the real women who see themselves in that character. And in a lot of ways, I don't see much difference between the puritanical conservatives and the feminists who come off as extremely sex negative.
No, a woman shouldn't be sexualized against her will. But not all female character who embraces who sexuality is just fulfilling a male fantasy. That's representation. And I think it's desperately needed.
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Flake interview 2020-01
Not a new interview, but relatively recent, Flake with "Der Standard" 2020-01 before an appearance of Flake in Vienna (author Stefan Weiss), don't think there's a translation on the website, so here's a shot..:
Rammstein keyboardist Flake: "The reunification was a mess"
Christian "Flake" Lorenz hits the keys not only as a keyboardist, but also as an author. A conversation about controversial views on the GDR, fireworks and climate protection
At Rammstein he is the "keyfucker" - GDR jargon for keyboard players. His real name is Christian Lorenz, but he has been calling himself "Flake", pronounced in German, of course, since his youth. For a quarter of a century, the native of East Berlin has been the alien in the German rock band, the thin freak among the strong musclemen. In the meantime, Flake also hits the keys as an author: In "An was ich mich so erinnern kann" (2015) he wrote down his GDR experiences, followed in 2017 with "Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag", a literary autobiography about Rammstein. On March 26, Flake will come to Vienna's Globe Theater for a reading.
STANDARD: We are currently celebrating 30 years of 'Die Wende' *1). Your joy is limited, as one knows. How do you perceive the anniversary?
Flake: 'Die Wende' and reunification of Germany have to be separated. I experienced the change as a punk at the time. The ossified old concrete headframe of the GDR Politburo was also our enemy. We didn't want this idiotic regime anymore and we fought to loosen it up. When the wall came down, we didn't know what to do with the freedom we suddenly had. But then began an incredibly exciting time in which we tried to develop professionally, politically and musically in every direction.
STANDARD: And then came the reunification.
Flake: A lot went wrong from then on. We were annexed as a useless country, entire biographies were declared worthless, companies were closed so that the western companies could expand. We have been reset to such an extent that resentment and disappointment have built that have persisted until now. By and large, the reunification in this form was a mess.
STANDARD: If you look at Germany's east today, right-wing populism has recently had great political success there. A legacy of reunification?
Flake: Many people are disappointed because certain promises have not been fulfilled. But they already had the political left in their lives, now they are trying it with the right. Personally, I cannot understand how one can vote for the AfD *2). But those who do are doing it in large part in protest against the mainstream parties. It is clear that the AfD cannot meet expectations either. If the AfD were to rule, many people would notice very quickly that it is not getting better, but worse.
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STANDARD: You grew up in the East Berlin punk scene. What are the differences between the East and West punks?
Flake: There was a fundamental difference: the Ostpunks didn't need any money because life was absurdly cheap, rent around 25 marks. The koney you made from one concert lasted over a month. So you could make the music you wanted to make and not just the music that sells well. Absurdly enough, it made us very free.
STANDARD: There were also IM Stasi informers among your band colleagues at the time (IM: unofficial employee, note). Aren't you angry with the repressive surveillance state of the GDR?
Flake: I'm not angry with IM informers in the bands. Because their IM status often made it possible for the bands to exist at all. The Stasi didn't lock up its own people. The best example of this is the GDR band 'Die Firma'. It was founded by IM informers. The gag was that 'Die Firma' ('The Company') was actually a synonym for "Stasi". Covered by the Stasi, they then sang anti-subversive texts. Almost brilliant really.
STANDARD: Do you understand when it is said that the GDR was an injustice state and that Stasi repression was a kind of terror?
Flake: I can understand it when people say that who have experienced it and suffered from it. But personally, I can't say that the whole state was bad. I don't want to know how many innocent people have been or are being imprisoned and monitored in the West. I do not find the generalization of the "unjust state" okay.
STANDARD: Would Rammstein have been conceivable in the GDR?
Flake: We wouldn't have founded a band like Rammstein within the GDR because it would have been the wrong answer to this system. We founded Rammstein because we noticed that our punk music wasn't getting anywhere in the West. It took harder stuff.
STANDARD: You have retained a kind of socialism within the band. Nevertheless, Rammstein is a millionaire company. Were there moments when you thought: The money could not only destroy our character but also the band?
Flake: Rammstein is a company where money fluctuates a lot. We have a lot of employees, we buy tons of pyrotechnics, we have a huge stage, costumes, our own electricity network, we shoot extremely complex videos. The money that remains private can actually hardly harm us, because it is so limited. We really have to make sure that the plus-minus calculation works out.
STANDARD: In your book "Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag" you describe the 25 years of Rammstein as a long partnership: It has become calmer in bed, but you understand each other blindly. Is divorce even an option?
Flake: Divorce is definitely not an issue. It's like a very long marriage: You don't even think about divorce anymore.
STANDARD: In the midst of tough muscle men, you were always the figure that breaks everything, especially in the interaction with singer Til Lindemann, who sometimes roasts you on stage like a cockroach. It looks like the traditional comedian constellation white clown and stupid August, Laurel and Hardy with SM components. How important is that to the show?
Flake: We developed that more by accident. We never made it up: you are the strong one, I am the weak one. At our first concerts we always stood around very haphazardly, then we started pushing and provoking each other. When I watch a normal heavy metal band I get bored easily. We always have something going on.
STANDARD: Do you sometimes long for a role change at Rammstein? To be the strong one for once?
Flake: Nah, I have other worries. With those couple of concerts, I can handle my role well enough.
STANDARD: Can you even enjoy appearances or does that only come afterwards? After all, a Rammstein show is precision work.
Falke: What do you mean enjoy? I enjoy when everything runs smooth and everything works like a machine. There are good and bad concerts, at the good ones we take off like an airplane.
STANDARD: Rammstein mixes black romanticism with black humor. You yourself love the blues, which often sails in similar waters. Can you draw joy out of melancholy?
Flake: The blues is the best example of this. Sadness and comfort go hand in hand. All of popular music arose from a problem of the respective author. This is exactly what you want to hear when you are not feeling well yourself. During puberty you normally don't want to hear "Walking on Sunshine" either.
STANDARD: Traditionally, there is also joy in melancholy and morbidity in Vienna. Is that the Eastern European impact?
Flake: Slavic music is very melancholic, on the other hand the Goth culture comes from the west. So I wouldn't really pinpoint that to anything local.
STANDARD: It is said that Rammstein did more to preserve the German language than all the Goethe Institutes put together. Are you proud of that?
Flake: Yeah. But the interesting thing is that we are regarded more highly abroad than in our own country. In Germany there is a lot of ranting: We are dull and foolish about Germany - complete nonsense.
STANDARD: Rammstein has always been compared to the totalitarian parody band Laibach. They recently played in North Korea with the aim of appearing subversive. Is something like that conceivable for Rammstein?
Flake: We'd have to think very carefully about what we want and why we want it. If that were to help someone, okay - but only to be able to say, "We're subversive now," that's not an argument.
STANDARD: For reasons of climate protection, there is an increasing number of missile bans. A topic for Rammstein?
Flake: We played a concert in Chicago once. The local fire protection was so rigorous that we shouldn't even have lit a match. Complete ban on pyro. We went on stage and said: either we are leaving because we are not allowed to make a fire here, or we are playing without. The audience wanted the latter, of course. And it became one of our best shows. You have to weigh it up a bit: should you stop all things like a Rammstein show for climate reasons? But I totally understand that there shouldn't be any more bangs on New Year's Eve. I was in Vienna once at the turn of the year, and there was relatively little banging. I thought that was good. Berlin is one of the most terrifying cities on New Year's Eve. There it's pure aggression.
Notes:
*1) i kept 'Die Wende' as the term for the political transformation in east germany, not sure what the official english phrase is
*2) AfD, short for 'Alternative für Deutschland' or 'Alternative for Germany' is a right-wing populist political party, often characterized as far-right, known for its opposition to the European Union and immigration
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Text
Dangerous Love (Pt. 04 of 13)
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Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader
Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?
Word count: 2.3K
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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}
×
Nightmares
You're looking at the garden, admiring the little white flowers that only blossom at night. You're tired, eyes heavy, but you can't sleep. Some bats are flying down there, and you wonder if they live nearby. A much larger figure passes by, in a blur. Suddenly, the lights go off. Opening the window, you bend over, holding on the bars, to try and see more. Then, you hear a click.
Your head turns at the door. Did it just unlock? Is the system electrical? Then why does Bruce always uses a key? Moving to the door, you slowly turn the handle and... Another click. It's open. Pulling it, you step forward. The silence makes you anxious, and so does the darkness. Looking at the sides, you start walking down the hall.
“Bruce?” You call out, and your voice echoes through the place. You get no response.
Your legs keep moving, taking you downstairs and to the door, which is wide open. Why is Bruce doing this? Is it a test? Or did something happened to him? You shouldn't go. You should–
You're moving, against your will. Why are you moving against your will? Wasn't that the plan? To wait for an opportunity and run away?
The gates are open too, and they're the only thing you can see in the darkness. The next thing you know is that you're on the streets. Empty streets, no lights on. You're taking the way to the abandoned mall you claimed, taking all the right entrances and the elevator that leads to the underground. Your old house.
You walk through the garage, among the many cars you own. Reaching your private headquarters, you see piles of money. The jewels too, more shiny than usual.
“Is anyone here?” The place doesn't seem abandoned. You know they're still working for you, even after all that time in prison. They wouldn't dare to abandon you.
“Look who's back.” Your sister comes out of nowhere, followed by her boyfriend, the Joker. “Where were you, little sis?”
“I got out.” You could tell them the truth, that Batman held you hostage. But you don't want them to retaliate. “What are you doing here? You're not supposed to come uninvited.”
There's something in the air, in the atmosphere. It's so cold and and dark, like you're drowning in it. A weird feeling builds up as if you need to go home. But this is home, the only home you ever had.
What are you doing here? You made a promise not to run away. Bruce told you he'd help, so why did he let you get out? Why did he let the doors open?
“We know everything, dear." Joker sing songs, pacing around you. “The Batsy broke you down... Or should I say, Bruce Wayne?”
“What?” How does he know that? “I was in prison. Belle Reve. I got out.” You repeat, turning on your heels to look Joker in the eye.
“And now you're back home,” Harley exclaims, hugging you. “Enjoy yourself, sis. This is who you are. Have fun, steal what you crave for, and then, one day, they will just get you again.”
“Thanks to you, I know who Batsy is.” Joke speaks again, getting your attention. “I can attack him in bright daylight. When he's vulnerable, away from his toys.”
“You know you'll go back there right? The paradise on Earth.” Harley starts again. “They always manage to find us. And once they do, the torture is tuned all the way up.”
“Shut up, Harley.” You burst out.
“I will make sure to tell Batman you helped me. I may even bring his head here so you can use it as a decoration.”
“Shut up!” You're covering your ears, trying to understand what happened. What you did. You didn't tell anyone about Bruce. You know you didn't. “Shut up!”
“You're going back to Belle Reve, sis. We always do. We'll die there.”
“Batman's blood is in your hands, Havoc. Upon his death, we will rule Gotham.”
“Shut up!”
You sit up abruptly, just as the door is being open. Breathing fast, you run to the bathroom before Alfred comes in. Closing the door behind your back, you slide to the floor, hands on your head. “It was just a dream. Just a dream.” You mumble to yourself. Why did it scare you so much? You shouldn't be sleeping. “I won't go back. It was just a dream. Just a dream...”
A knock on the door startles you. “(Y/N)?”
It isn't Alfred, it's Bruce. With your heart pounding against your chest, you stumble up, opening the door and almost collapsing against his chest when you step out. He looks down at you, worried.
“Hi,” you whisper, stepping back.
“You look terrified. What happened?” He touches your arm, guiding you to sit on the bed. Behind him, you see a cart with lunch.
“I fell asleep. I shouldn't, I... I had a nightmare. No big deal.” As you move closer to the headboard, you see a book on the nightstand. “What's that?” Taking it, you read the cover. Game Of Thrones.
“I decided to bring you that. So you'll have something to do.” Bruce sits on the bed, hesitantly. “It has some violence, but I think you can deal with that.”
“Isn't there a TV show about it?”
“I'll stream if for you once you finish the book.”
“Ok.” It's good to finally have something to do. Opening the book, you look through the first pages.
“Why did you say you shouldn't sleep?” He inquires. Shaking your head slightly, you don't answer. “(Y/N).”
“Hm?” Looking up from the book, you meet his eyes. Why is he so worried?
“Won't you answer me?”
“I don't like sleeping.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sustain his stare. Bruce has nice eyes, and they're kind. You can't remember the last time someone looked at you like this. “The nightmares are constant so... I take naps. Whenever I feel like I'm falling asleep I get up. I don't sleep for more than three hours every night.”
“And what do you do up all night?”
“Nothing. I stare at the ceiling. The garden... Did you know that the little white flowers only blossom at night?” Smiling, you put the book down and move to the window. The garden is beautiful. You grow mesmerized by it every day. The flowers and threes are amazing.
“(Y/N), you need to sleep. To rest.” Bruce walks over you, touching your arm to get your attention. “Do you want something to help?”
“I'm used to my sleep schedule, don't worry.” You meet his eyes for a few seconds before looking through the window again. “I saw some people there a few days ago.”
“An interview. Now go eat.” Bruce brings the cart as you sit in the armchair. Sweet potato soup, your favorite.
He shouldn't be here for lunch, though. “Shouldn't you be at work?”
His expression changes, and he looks sad. “It's Saturday.”
“Oh... And don't you have a girlfriend or something?” The question comes out suddenly, before you even notice what you said. That's the bad part of being honest all the time, you lost the ability to control your thoughts.
“No, I don't have anyone at the moment. Why?”
“Because it's Saturday. You should be with her.” In the back of your mind, the figure of Bruce with a woman in his arm, going to dinners, smiling and chatting, bothers you. You don't understand why. It's only natural. A handsome man like Bruce probably has a lot of women chasing him. Being rich only makes it worse.
“Don't worry. I'm all yours today.”
That makes you giggle, looking down at the soup. “The therapy session will be long then.”
As usual, Bruce waits until you're done eating. You're growing used to his presence, and sometimes you think you're even a little excited to see him. It's unbelievable how gentle he is. Nobody was ever gentle to you. It's weird how you're failing to look for an opportunity to run away. You're just not thinking about this anymore.
When you're done, you push the cart away, holding your glass of soda. “So... What are we talking about today?”
“I have news. And I need you to tell me how you feel about them.” Bruce is serious now, all professional. Did you do something? Why does he seem so distant?
“Alright.”
“Yesterday night I found the Joker.” He begins, eyes focused on you, reading your face. “He almost managed to run away, but one of his bombs went off before the time, while he was close. He blew up, thrown into the air, and when he fell, he broke his spine. There's a chance Joker won't ever walk again.”
You don't know what he wants you to say. People tend to connect you to the Joker, even though you haven't worked with him in years. You're more like enemies now. “Well, that's too bad for him. And for Harley. She'll be heartbroken.”
“What about you?”
“I won't say I'm happy about it, I'm just... I don't feel anything.”
“Have you and the Joker ever been in any kind of... Relationship?”
That's new. “No. He kissed me once, to make Harley jealous, but I kicked him in the balls for it.” The memory makes you smile. His face was priceless. “He did make some... propositions, but I never accepted.”
“Why?” Bruce seems very interested in this. What are you thinking? He's just trying to understand and help you. Nothing more.
“Because he wasn't my type,” you say with a smirk.
“Does that mean other men made the same kind of propositions and you accepted?”
“What? No!” You exclaim, putting the empty glass on the cart. “I... I'm not...”
“See? When you don't say the truth, I can make any assumptions.” He leans forward, as he usually does. You're not sure why, but you mirror his position, looking into his eyes. “The truth, please.”
“Well, it's true that he's not my type, but... In my world, love is dangerous. You have lots of enemies and having someone you care about gives them a weak spot. So I never really gave me or... Love... A chance.” It's funny how easy it feels to open up to Bruce now. It doesn't mean you enjoy saying these things, they're supposed to be a secret, but with time, you're getting used to it. He has an effect on you, this man.
“For some people, there's no need for love in some... Situations.”
“For some people, yes. For me... It would never feel right.” You move back again, looking down at the sunlight coming through the window, on the floor between you and Bruce.
“(Y/N), I know the guards used to beat you. But did they ever... Assaulted you any other way?” The heaviness in his voice is tangible. Bruce is angry, worried.
“No. Never.” You're quick to answer, and he soon seems to relax. “Everything they feel for me is disgust, thank God. That... Never happened. They only touch me to beat me up.”
“I'm... Happy to know that. A pretty girl like you... I couldn't help but wonder if they ever tried something so filthy.”
“Woman.” You correct him as usual, the word pretty burning through your mind. Does he really think you're pretty?
“Woman. Forgive me.” A smile. A smile comes to his lips and you're mesmerized. He's so handsome, and now even more.
“I like your smile,” you tell him, biting back a smile yourself. “Didn't know Batman had this ability.”
“You're improving.”
“Am I?” It comes to your mind suddenly, that he brought you here to prove a point. “I'm happy your project is going well.” Running a hand through your hair, you get up, moving to the bed.
“I don't think of you as a project.”
“Really?” You don't believe him. “Sometimes I wonder what will be my fate after this. You say you can put me back into the normal world, but I'm not sure I believe it... I think that I'll end up in Belle Reve. And it'll be even worse because now I'm used to all this.” Gesturing at the room in general, you look at him. “Comfortable bed, nice showers, beauty products... Not being hurt every single day.”
Going back to Belle Reve would break you down, you think. The villain in you says that you can take it, all over again if needed, but the other part... Tells you otherwise. The very thought of your old cell is enough to make you shake like a leaf.
“I will never let you go back there,” Bruce speaks up, intense eyes on you, burning. “Never.”
“Keep me here then... If that's what it takes. I don't mind.” You can barely hear your own voice. You can't believe you just said that, that you would be ok being here for the rest of your life. But if your options are this room or cell 304B, you'd pick this room.
“Let's see how things go. There's no need to rush.”
Nodding, you continue telling him about your connections with the Joker, and about the many times you were at war against each other. After dinner, you ask for a pencil or pen, so you can underline the parts you like in the book. Bruce brings you a blue pen before wishing goodnight and telling you to try and sleep well.
But you can't. It's 2 a.m. and you're reading. You find a blank page in the book, so you rip it off and decide to draw. It's been years since you've drawn, and you're not really sure what you're doing. A few hours go by until you're finished with it. Bruce. You just drew Bruce Wayne. You stare at his features. His eyes, nose, jaw... Lips. Folding the paper, you decide to use it as a bookmark. He won't find out if you keep it inside the book.
×
@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2
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god-save-the-keen · 4 years ago
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Are you jealous?
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Book: Bloodbound
Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC (Amy)
Warning: None
Words: 1.289
*Inspired in 'Lucifer': S5, E6*
Note: I don't know if it's my PC or just Tumblr but I can't cut the text! Sorry about that 😕
Permanent tagg list: @eileendannie @desireepow-1986 @dawn-1994 @darley1101 @blackcatkita @flyawayboo @drakewalker04 @choicesficwriterscreations
Adrian Raines x MC tagg list: @senator-adrian-raines-wifey @alesana45 @choicesfannatalie @mattrodriguezmylife @perriewinklenerdie @x-kyne-x @livingpurpose @adriansbiss @badgoodfishes @amyraineshessa @bloodboundismylife @bloodboundhoe @choices-addict-25 @lexilooloolovessenatorraines @bloodboundstuff @a-raines  
When Adrian walked through the crystal doors of Raines Corp that morning the first thing he noticed was Amy waiting for the private elevator, which he had given her the key to a while ago, checking her phone. The night before flashed through his mind as he went towards her, trying to avoid a too obvious grin at the mere sight of her, remembering her sweet lips on his, the soft and at the same time intoxicating touch of her delicate hand on his body and how incredibly perfect their bodies fit together. He knew they shouldn't go that far, having this kind of personal relationship but there was something in her that drew him to her, like a magnet wanting, no needing, more. So much more. But when she mentioned that they should keep it between them because she didn't want to be "the office 'easy girl' who is fucking the boss", a phrase that Adrian tried vehemently to denied, he agreed, unsure of her feelings about their relationship.
"Good morning, Amy." He stood beside her, shoulder to shoulder, his free hand brushing hers.
"Good morning, Adrian." She smiled and he couldn't avoid thinking how different his name sounded the night before in her moans and how desperate he was to hear it again.
"You had a restful night, I hope?"
"For sure! I did a few hours of… Work out before bed." Her face didn't show any mischievous glint, smiling like everyday, as the elevator 'dinged' and they headed inside. When the door closed behind them, Adrian took a step closer to her. If she wanted to keep their distance at a maximum in the office, she just needed to take a step back and he would give her her space. To his pleasure, she took a step forward. She stood on her tiptoes and, taking her lead, he held her waist and lowered his mouth, finding hers halfway as a warm feeling, that after so many years he thought he would never feel again, stormed inside him in the most wonderful way. "Now, that is the perfect way to say good morning." Adrian chuckled before his mouth covered hers once more.
"You look beautiful today."
"Thank you, boss." She retorted with a playful hint of a sexy smile.
"I missed you this morning." His hold on her waist tightened a little.
"I missed you too but I needed to change my outfit." Before Adrian could answer, the elevator arrived on their floor and she took two big steps to the side as the doors opened.
"What is on today's agenda?" He asked as they walked out.
"In an hour, you have a meeting with the heads of sectors, after lunch the three candidates for the research team are coming for their final interview with you, at 5 o'clock Senator Vega will be waiting for us at his place and 6:40 with Priya in her mansion to talk about… you know."
"It's going to be fine." His hand found hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"After what you told me, how can you be sure?" There was an uncertain tone in her voice as her brows knitted together, worried.
"Because I'm going to do everything in my power to make it fine." His thumb unconsciously caressing her knuckles as a soft smile creeped on her face.
Before he knew, the morning had transformed into the afternoon and the interviews had started. The first candidate was a middle-aged man, with a remarkable resume but with some weak answers towards his questions, when the man left from the office, Amy handed him the file of the second candidate and he called Josie Adams inside as the elevator doors opened and a young man, that he supposed was the last candidate, came out, flashing a smile at Amy.
As he led the interview with ease with Adams, he caught a glimpse of Amy's conversation outside.
"Wow, Ames, you look really great!" The voice of who he presumed was the young man echoed in his brain. So this man already knew Amy. "Beautiful." Adrian felt a bubbling sensation inside him, a mix of anger and something new… something he didn't like.
"Thanks, Matt! It's so good to see you! You look great too! I didn't know you had applied for this job!"
"I didn't know you work here either!" He replied and they both chuckled as Josie kept talking about her experience. Adrian tried to concentrate until his own name pecked his attention again.
"...Adrian? He's honestly the best." A fond tone in her voice, he could almost see the smile on her face. "He's smart and respectful, I don't know anyone in the office that doesn't respect him."
"Any tips?"
"Just be authentic, he'll appreciate that." A tiny grin lifted Adrian's lip at Amy's words. Of course she would know the perfect way to approach him by now. Adams continued talking with confidence at his gesture, unaware the real reason for it.
"So, how have you been? Are you seeing someone?" Adrian blocked out the woman's voice, concentrating his hearing sense on the outside, curious about her response.
"I…" She hesitated. "No, I'm not." Well, that definitely wasn't what he was expecting to hear. They had agreed to keep it a secret but completely denying the relationship was further than what Adrian thought.
"Glad to hear."
"That is all I need, Ms. Adams." He suddenly cut the interview, standing up. "We will contact you soon." He shook the woman's hand.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Raines." Amy led her to the elevator, took the file from her desk and entered Adrian's office, closing the door and handing it to him.
"You’re acquainted with the next candidate." It wasn't a question, and even though he was using the most professional tone possible, something else leaked out, making Amy smile.
"Yes, I do." She observed him with an almost satisfied grin without saying anything else.
"I see." He took Matt's resume and started to read it, being completely honest, some of his accomplishments were truly remarkable. "An old friend?"
"Not exactly." He lifted his gaze towards her, his right eyebrow rising up. "He's my ex-boyfriend. We broke up when I moved here, I didn't even know he had come too."
"Perhaps he's trying to get back with you. Especially if he thinks you are single." Amy giggled walking around his desk and sitting on the edge as her hand lowered the file that he was 'reading' and their eyes connected, deeply and intensely.
"Adrian, are you jealous?" His jaw clenched as she kept smirking. "Oh my god, you really are!"
"I do not get jealous."
"Then why do you care what he thinks?" Her feet barely touched his leg as they kept staring into each other's eyes.
"I don't."
"Mhm, sure you don't." She lowered from the desk and leaned closer to him, softly lifting his head cupping his right cheek, until her lips quickly but sweetly pecked his. "You are the only one I want to be with, that's why it is so important to do things right, even if it's hard to keep this as a secret for a while." She headed to the door as her hips swayed from side to side, clearly enjoying the power she had over him. "And by the way, I told him I'm single because he's the nosiest person I know. If I tell him or if you hire him, he would drive me nuts until I tell him who I'm dating." And just like that, she went back to her desk, closing the door as Adrian smiled, thinking he would do anything for this woman, even get jealous now and then.
❣️
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ficsandcatsandficsandcats · 5 years ago
Note
YAY TH! 💛i was thinking plus size reader travels with Jaskier &Geralt, she's good friends with both but has always been in love with Jaskier She has notebooks she draws in & is so careful to never draw all of jaskier ON one page She's got pages of eyes, hands, chest, neck, hair, all the little parts of him she loves But she thinks he could never love her cuz she's not the typical kind of girl he goes with One day he finds her notebook he knows he shouldn't look she always swats him away 1/2
But he cant help it. He’s so curious and at first he doesn’t realize who it is, just thinks the art is beautiful. And then on the last page there’s an incredibly detailed drawing of a feild of buttercup flowers, maybe with Jaskier in the middle playing his lute in the sun. he talks to her carefully about it. Cuz she’s shy but she usually tells him everything, and he loves her too he just never wanted to make her uncomfortable. Then love confessions! Woo! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! (2/2)
Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 1,836Rating: GTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle a/n: This was a really interesting challenge for me. I’ve been plus size my entire life and I don’t think I’ve ever once written a character who looked like me. Writing this was really eye-opening for me and made me really think about how to portray a plus size character in a way that was positive while still acknowledging the very real insecurities and struggles. I hope this is ok and what you were looking for and thank you for the prompt!
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Being Jaskier’s best friend was glorious.
He always got invited to the best parties and insisted on bringing you along. He knew the best tailors who made you dresses that flowed perfectly with your body. Growing up you’d been forced into clothes that were the same cut and shape as others around you, just larger, which somehow left you feeling both swamped and pinched by the fabric as it tried to force your body into a shape it simply wasn’t. But the tailors Jaskier took you to fit wonderfully and if they ever rankled at or felt challenged by your size you never knew because Jaskier would have slain them where they stood if they even breathed a word to that effect. Jaskier was fun and affectionate but also fiercely protective in a way that made you feel cared for even if it did sometimes make your heart ache a little. When he turned away the men who came to ask you to dance or tried to pursue you he always declared it was because he knew their “reputation” and they “weren’t good enough for you” but a small part of you – well, alright, a very significant part of you – wished he were doing it because he wanted you all for himself.
He called you his muse though creative partner was a more fitting title. Being a ‘muse’ implied you just sat there and looked stunning and words flowed through the artist. In truth the pair of you talked through his song dilemmas. You challenged near rhymes and even though he put up a fuss in the moment, later on he would always thank you and give credit to you for helping him ensure a song flowed perfectly. In turn you would work on your drawing as he composed. You’d catch him sneaking a glance every now and then and you always swatted him away, but you’d been extra careful to ensure that even if he did look he wouldn’t realize what you were doing. Only one picture, drawn up after an especially beautiful day where he’d taken you to a field of buttercups, woven you a crown and declared you Queen of Springtime, exposed your deep secret. But he would never see it because you were too careful about keeping it close and he did respect your privacy after all
—–
Jaskier knew he shouldn’t do it.
You always kept your notebook on you and when you saw him try to take peeks you swatted him away. He knew it was private and important to you. So much so that he almost became jealous of the damn thing. When would you gaze at him the same adoring way you gazed at whatever you drew? His heart churned with jealousy at the thought that you were drawing someone. Some man he hadn’t been quick enough to push away. He felt a tinge of guilt at that, knowing it wasn’t fair to keep you from finding a partner when he was too afraid to make his intentions known. But he would tell you one day. As soon as he got any sort of sign that the feelings would be reciprocated. Or, if he knew you were interested in someone else, he was gracefully bow out and never tell you. And perhaps his answer was waiting in that notebook. And perhaps that was reason enough.
As he flipped through the pages he admired your great talent. The craftwork in drawing the hands, long-fingered and held in different poses. Some were positioned as though it was holding an invisible instrument while others were gestured openly or clasped together. Some hair that swooped to an angle, thick and fluffy in some though she’d also taken the challenge of drawing it wet, dripping down the neck into the collar of an undershirt. Then there were drawings of eyes. Though no color was etched into them the eyes were gorgeous. Light and filled with a light that nearly gleamed off the page. A thick neck, craning at an angle that attached to just the barest edge of a strong jaw. A picture of someone that only showed the collar bones down to the waist, an undershirt left open long enough to show an etching of thick, dark chest hair. He flipped through the photos feeling an odd sense of familiarity but mostly immense pride, already trying to figure out how to tell her that she must begin selling her art or at the very least not hide it away from the world any longer.
And then he flipped to the last page.
He almost missed it, skimming fast as the pages grew blank, but he saw a touch of color. He remembered the day he’d gifted you the colored pencils. Your face had lit up and you’d thrown your arms around him, pressing your soft, warm body against his and he’d taken the chance to hold you close for longer than your usual hugs, relishing the feeling of having you in his arms. That was the end of a perfect day. A day he’d almost told you, as he looked into your eyes, farmed by a crown of buttercups. He’d almost told you that even surrounded by the gorgeous blooms, you were the fairest thing by far. But his courage had failed him and so instead he’d found you the pencils, a technicolor declaration of love he worried he would never put into words. He’d wondered if you even used them since every drawing was in the same grey and white but there it was. A picture filled with color. And himself.
He sat cross-legged in the center of a wide expanse of buttercups, lute in hand. The same hands, he realized now, that he’d seen earlier in the notebook. The hands that held the book, trembling slightly as his heart swelled and took in the picture. You’d lovingly sketched every detail of his outfit from the cerulean of his doublet to the off-cream of his undershirt. His hair fell over his face slightly though did not obscure the brilliant blue eyes that gazed at the viewer of the photo much the same way he imagined he must be looking at it right now. His mouth was drawn open mid-song and he could even tell what lyric was passing through his lips. Your talent was truly spectacular. And you loved him. And he wouldn’t waste anymore time.
—–
When you returned from the market you were frazzled. You’d left your notebook behind and that was too dangerous. You’d practically run all the way back, arriving to camp winded and red faced. So much so that Geralt drew his sword, certain you were being pursued, and you had to convince him through gasps that everything was fine. And then you saw Jaskier walk into view, holding the notebook. Your heart sank and when Jaskier saw you he froze. He looked a little guilty but there was more there as well. You couldn’t place it, too anxious about your secret finally getting out. As he walked over to you, you began to try and form a lie that would cover it up and let things stay the way they were before.
“Geralt can we have a moment?” Jaskier asked once he reached you. Geralt opened his mouth to say something but Roach nickered and he sighed heavily and stood up, taking her reins and walking away without another word to either of you. Your heart pounded in your chest and you looked down at the notebook still in Jaskier’s hands.
“Y/N, I should apologize-”
“It’s fine just give it back,” you said quickly, reaching for the notebook but he pulled it away too fast.
“I should apologize, but I’m not going to,” he finished. Your eyes widened slightly and he held up a hand to staunch the angry tirade he could see welling up.
“Y/N, you’re amazing,” he said a little breathlessly, “Your art, your talent, it’s… it’s just beyond compare. I understand what it means, how important one’s creative works are and how personal, but please at least assure me that you aren’t hiding it away out of some misplaced sense of insecurity. Because you have nothing to feel insecure about, Y/N. Nothing.”
You fought back the tears that the words, hitting so close to so many parts of yourself you had never even told him about, brought to your eyes.
“Jaskier, how much did you see?” you asked, your eyes falling to the notebook.
“Everything,” he said, “I saw everything.”
“Fuck…”
“Y/N,” he tilted your chin up gently with one hand, raising your eyes to meet his. “I love you.”
“I know you do, Jaskier, we’re very good friends-”
“Y/N,” he said, cutting you off and gently resting the notebook on the ground so he could take your face in both of his hands as he stared into your eyes with his, brilliant blue and full of emotion, “I love you.”
The words resonated and even you couldn’t deny what he was saying. He wasn’t looking at you like a friend or a brother or anything but a man who was deeply in love and trying desperately to communicate it to the person he loved.
“But…” you began, and then bit your lip as you worried how to phrase it.
“What?” he asked, tenderly brushing away a tear.
“I’m not… you usually… I’ve… I’ve seen the women you’re with,” you began.
He nodded and waiting for you to continue.
“They are all very lovely and all very similarly bodied. That is, they’re, well, oh for god’s sake – they’re thin, Jaskier. You’re always surrounded by lovely, slender ladies and I am-”
“Lovely,” he finished the sentence for you.
“And plump,” you said pointedly.
“And plump,” he echoed, “Lovely and plump and talented and caring.”
“I just don’t want you to love me in spite of it,” you said, an old wound aching at the thought that he was listing the things that made your body an acceptable compromise.
He frowned and then before you could try and explain further he pulled you in for a kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours. His arms surrounded you and you pressed closer into the kiss. He pulled back and began to pepper your jaw with kisses, moving down to the slope of flesh beneath your chin and back up to your lips.
“I don’t love you in spite of anything. I love you for everything that you are, no exceptions, no alterations. Every inch, every ounce, every day. If you’ll have me,” he said, realizing you hadn’t actually said the words to him yet. You smiled and felt a weight you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying begin to lift off your heart.
“I love you,” you said. Jaskier’s face broke into a smile you knew you would never capture on paper but would spend the rest of your life trying to recreate.
Being Jaskier’s best friend was glorious.
Because Jaskier’s beloved is beyond words.
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lukasthemedic · 4 years ago
Text
Property Brothers Fic
Original posting date - 2016 A03 works
Renovation Hell
Chapter 1
Jonathan gently rubs his fingers against his temples, leaning down on the counter above his barely touched chicken and fruit salad. His hands and arms are covered in particles from this current reno, his legs ache to the point he can barely stand it. Actually, all of him aches. He's been working so hard, so many late nights into early mornings. The unbelievable requests of these homeowners, more additions the further into the already crunched timeline they gave him. Barking orders, stalling the installation of most of the lower level of the house still. He is generally pretty calm, easy going. But he can barely continue to take the filming with this couple.
Jonathan's phone rings, a vivid reminder that he isn't off work, even when he is. "Hey, this is Jonathan." He says as professionally as he can manage into the speaker, keeping one hand leaning against his now throbbing head. He already knows who it is before he even gets an answer back on the staticky other end. "Yeah, I know it looks like it's not coming together as quickly as you had wanted it, but I can assure you--" He's cut off by more hasty, obnoxious comments being spewed from the other line of the husband and wife duo.
The door creaks open quickly and Drew is careful to shut it quietly, with ease. He knows how difficult this renovation has been on Jonathan, how much work he has had to put into it. How much work it has been on all of them, the whole crew.
"I understand, and I know that you'll be the ones living in the house, seeing it for the rest of your lives. But I can assure you, I am going to make the deadline and ensure all of your requests have been met. How about I bring over some new options for the kitchen backsplash and countertops tomorrow morning and you can meet me there and take a look." He blankly explains, as calmly as possible. He gently taps his fingers against his fork, regretting the portion of his salad he already consumed. The insults and stabbing remarks about his work make his stomach turn. He's hates this aspect of trying to be a helpful person to everyone. He should have known, this evening like all the rest, wouldn't come without an interrupting, hellish phone call.
Drew takes a sharp, shaky breathe and makes his way towards his twin, careful to keep himself quiet when he grabs wine glasses and pours them both extremely large servings, sitting down across from Jonathan at the kitchen bar.
Jonathan's face turns a deep scarlet, rolling his eyes as he continues to keep himself from snapping under more demands of the clients on the other end. His palms are sweaty, and Drew can tell he is getting more and more frustrated by the way that his brothers hand tenses up under his when he tries to slide it over his while he taps it against his fork, silently pleading with him to keep his cool.
"Yes, I completely understand. I'll be there as early as you need me to get my work out of the way. I'm sorry there have been so many inconvenient steps for you. I appreciate the opportunity to be able to work with you on your dream home."
"Yeah, dream home is an extremely shit description for having to work with your incompetent crew. I can't believe we have to deal with all of this bullshit. You better be there in the morning when I get there!" Drew hears the guy on the other end of the line yelling at his brother, putting no ease into the way he slams into Jonathan's. Drew is thankful when the guy decides to hang up on him, abruptly ending the phone call, allowing Jonathan to put his phone down and rest his hands against his temples again.
"Hey, don't listen to that." Drew quietly offers to his brother, pushing the drink closer to him. "You know you're the best. They always just get a little frustrated when they can't see the bigger picture until it's finished."
"Yeah, a little." Jonathan scoffs, pushing the wine glass away from him. "I'm not in the mood."
Jonathan finally looks up, Drew melts in his deep green eyes glaring across the room. Drew can tell he is hurt, knowing he is looking at everything around them, avoiding the contact of his own eyes.
Jonathan downs the glass of wine he slid across from himself earlier and stands up, cleaning off his plate and putting it away.
Drew carefully watches him, finally seeing his brother relax a little, and hopes that the rest of the evening can be less tense. Jonathan grabs a bottle of whiskey from their bar and downs a good amount, nearly finishing off what they have left of it. "Do you remember what you said in that interview yesterday." Jonathan asks his brother, not allowing it as a question, rather as a cold statement. He puts the whiskey back, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and facing back to stand with his brother, now face to face with him.
"What do you mean?" Drew sighs, trying to plead with his twin to turn his mood around, not wanting to focus on anything else that could come between them at this point.
Jonathan scoffs, " you don't remember when you gave a tour of the house and told the reporter about how we sleep in separate rooms. How we're not even allowed to come in one another's." Jonathan says coldly, looking back at Drew with daggers in his warm eyes. Drew can see the hurt and confusion on his brothers face, realising just how much he's already had to deal with today, and then bring this back up.
"Jonathan, you know I didn't mean that. She was suspicious. I had to redirect her, you know how much all of this means, for our personal life to stay private and separate from our shows." Drew takes a step closer to his brother, trying to grab for his hips and slide him closer in. "I can only imagine what will be said at the Google interview this weekend for our book." He whispers into Jonathan's ear. "Fanfiction, if we're lucky." He gently kisses his jawline and laughs into his neck.
The master bed room wasn't shown in the tour of their house. In fact, the two rooms that were staged as their own are two of the guests rooms. They have a lot of traffic during shows that are shot in the area, generally having enough rooms in the house and space for the crew to stay, either with them or their parents.
"I'm sorry I'm snapping at you. This renovation is just really difficult. I'm so tired of everyone else feeling like they're the contractors here and not me. Telling me how to do my job, all the extra steps." Jonathan sighs, letting Drew pull him closer. "I missed you today. I didn't see you." He mumbles, hoping Drew will want to stay up for awhile and relax with him even though they have a long day of shooting tomorrow. Two shows, and an interview in the evening. Plus they have an early flight at the end of the week for their Google interviews, which means nights spent in uncomfortable hotel rooms and very little sleep, if any. They always get things booked so tight together when they have to leave the state, so they can accomplish so much in such a little time.
Drew leans in, pulling him as close as their bodies will allow, sculpting to one another. He runs his hands down the sides of his brothers body and bites on his lip, leaving Jonathan shivering with the release of finally having his twin there with him.
Jonathan pulls Drew closer, almost falling into him, completely exhausted and enveloped into his brothers arms, "let's go take a shower and find something to watch." Drew pulls Jonathan's chin up to plant another quick kiss on his lips, pulling his brother along with him up the stairs to the bathroom.
Every stair is another painful reminder to Jonathan that he has so much to finish tomorrow and each step he takes towards the bathroom puts another step in his head about the project. "That guy is such an asshole." He mutters, following suit of his brother towards the bathroom at the end of the hall.
"I know, but don't let it bother you. Soon this reno will be over and we will be on to bigger and better things. Surely with nicer people." He calmly says, hopeful that he is right, because he knows that Jonathan can't take much more. He always has the bulk of the work, and the weight of the projects on him. No wonder he is always at his end.
Jonathan sits on the edge of the bed, plopping his head back and resting his arms under his neck. He could fall asleep so easily right now if he wanted to. But he really needs to stay up and work on some designs for the house, some of the "finishing touches" that the couple has emailed him, adding to the list. "Are you good?" Drew questions, placing an uneasy hand on his brothers thigh, leaning down, towering over his face.
"Yeah." Jonathan sighs. "I just have so much to catch up on now. I'll have to stay up all night toying with these new designs and have to be there really early in the morning. I'm just worn out. I do this for a living. I shouldn't feel this way." He mumbles, arching his back and tossing his hands over his eyes, shielding them from his brothers wondering looks.
Jonathan is a little bit tipsy from the drinks he had earlier, but not enough to feel any better about the situation.
He feels his brothers warm hands travel closer into his thighs, hearing the bed creak as he uses it to get on his knees and feels him rest his head between his legs, face planted in the comforter. "This reno sucks." Drew mumbles, muffled by the bed. He takes a deep breath and brings his head back up to rest on his twins warm legs
Chapter 2
"I know just what you need." Drew says with a sly smirk on his face, peering up at his twin from between his thighs, eyes traveling up his chest. Drew pulls himself up to hover over his brother and adjusts his legs on either side of his twin's hips, gazing down at him. "How bad do you want me?" He mercilessly grins, grabbing a fistful of Jonathan's drywall covered flannel, drawing his lips closer to his face.
Jonathan can't help but melt under the dark stare that Drew is giving him, peering down, grasping his shirt so tightly that his knuckles are beginning to turn white. Just when Jonathan thought that this day was a definite drag down. He knows his brother is always going to be there for him, in more ways than he ever imagined. "Bad, please." Jonathan whines from under his grasp, from the weight of his body grinding down on him. He can't help it when Drew plays him like this, because his brother knows that when he can't have what he wants, he desires it more. Drew loves making his brother beg for him, and Jonathan grows evermore excitedly every time he has to wait for what is coming. "Please, Drew. I want you so ba-" Jonathan is cut off from his twin's mouth, grabbing down and biting hard on his lip, moaning into his brother's mouth. He runs his mouth, slowly along his lips, giving deep tender kisses, careful to keep watching. He loves when Jonathan squirms under him from his touch, head arching back against the bed, eyes closed with anticipation building. "God, yes. Mhmm." Jonathan groans, his brother tracing his lips down his cheek, his jawline. He runs his hands down his sides, pulling his shirt up to expose his bare skin. Jonathan's muscles ache even more from the cool air hitting his exhausted body and he grinds his teeth together, letting out a slow roll of breath between his locked jaws. "Give it to me, Drew." He begs as his brother continues to run his hands and mouth over his chest, looking up to meet his brother's glare only for a second before he continues to trail his mouth down his stomach to his jeans.
"You have to be patient, haven't you learned anything?" Drew chuckles, reaching to unbutton his jeans and slide them carefully down to his ankles, so Jonathan can successfully kick them off onto the floor where his wrinkled and dirty shirt is already piled and waiting. Jonathan knows that Drew will wash him carefully and slowly in the shower, cuddle with him in bed and watch Chopped, or something ridiculous that he loves watching and Drew can't stand, just to make him happy. He knows that even after he's asleep and warm and content, that Drew will grab all of his dirty clothes and wash them before coming to bed. He knows that he will go back and clean up the mess in the kitchen that Jonathan makes when he's so exhausted from coming home and working that all he can think about is something quick enough and a drink to dull the previous hours pain so that he can crawl into bed and manage to get an hour or two of sleep before he hauls back to the renovation site. Jonathan knows that his brother will do this for him, because he loves him.
So, Jonathan is patient, with his brother's touch and his games. Because he knows how Drew enjoys their evenings together. It is rare when they have time together during renovations, shows, flights, etc. He knows that being at home with his twin's touch and his full attention is something he should be patient with. He knows that this game of head now will follow with a blissful shower. That Drew will come back upstairs after cleaning and making some late business calls to producers and emails to interviews and hopeful homebuyers for the show, to cuddle into his brother's warmth while he sleeps and carefully weave himself into his body, trying to wake him and get his attention. That he will want to make him wake up, aroused, and begging to have sex from the touch of Drew. That he will fall back asleep in the arms of his finally equally exhausted brother and they will sleep until the morning draws them up for a quick shower before being dragged back into the hell of this renovation. Jonathan remembers how much he dreads going to the site in the morning and his face becomes less relaxed and content with his brother's touch and he feels Drew stop moving over him.
"I know that look." Drew sighs, pulling himself back up to look into Jonathan's eyes. Drew's eyebrows furrow and he leans down closer to his brother so their mouths are almost touching, Jonathan works at cramming the thoughts back because he hates to think of anything else besides Drew when he is this intimate with him. "Just relax." Drew mumbles, placing one quick sloppy kiss on his twin's lips and travels back down to his briefs. Drew pulls at the tight band with his teeth, grabbing Jonathan's hard cock over the fabric separating them from touching. Drew moans, a deep and intense feeling of pleasure washes over him as he feels his brother throb under his grip. "Please, touch me. I want more." Jonathan begs, grabbing for his underwear. He feels his hand restrained to his side, Drew grinning down at him. "You don't get to decide when it's time. Don't threaten me to make you wait longer." He chuckles, releasing his brothers hand, and going back to his work. He kisses Jonathan over the fabric and shivers, hearing the moans work out from his brother's mouth. Deep growls starting at the back of his throat and escaping every time Drew breathes more hot air onto Jonathan's hard cock. He can barely contain himself any longer, and Drew must know that he is getting more and more restless, because he swiftly pulls his briefs off and tosses them down into the pile with the rest of the clothes.
"I've been waiting all day for you." Drew smirks, slowly drawing his eyes up to meet his brother's desperate stare. He gently kisses his twin on either side of his warm thighs, gently grabbing his balls with one cupped hand, and holding the other under his thigh, careful to be too rough. He knows that Jonathan likes it when he's rough, but after today he just wants to give him something to relax to. Drew finally slides his brother's twitching hot cock in his mouth, already feeling the precum on his tongue as he lets it dance against his brother's skin. He gently slides his fingers against Jonathan's thigh and back to his ass, feeling him arch against his touch, watching his body beg for more. He carefully inserts a finger into him, running his mouth hot down the full length of his cock over and over, making sure Jonathan is getting what he wants. He works his finger against his brother's grinding, begging and ready for more. "God, fuck, please. Yes, Drew, yes." Jonathan is barely able to get the words out of his mouth at the expense of the work his brother's mouth is doing on him. Jonathan places his hands in either side of Drew's head and pushes him downwards onto himself more. Drew loves it when Jonathan has to force him to be more rough. He knows that his brother can barely contain himself without his touch. Drew adds a second finger, slipping his mouth off of his cock and biting down on his thigh. Drew can feel his own skin brushing up tight against his slacks, his cock throbbing so hard he can barely keep the pulsing in his head drowned out, making his eyes weak and his body hungry for more.
Drew carefully laughs, nervously, looking up at his brother. He keeps his hands moving so that his fingers are in sync with Jonathan's grinding body. "I can't wait. I was going to wait, but I can't do it." Drew exclaims, pulling his fingers out from his prepared twin. He is met with the same running thoughts from his brother, when Jonathan quickly leans up, unbuttoning the dress shirt his brother is in, throwing tie, shirt and undershirt all on the floor as hastily as he can. "If you're too tired, we can wait. I don't have to." Drew suggests, facing his brother.
"Shut up." Jonathan rolls his eyes, pulling Drew closer in for a kiss. "I'm never too tired for my time with you." He mumbles into his mouth, grabbing for his slacks and popping the button undone and quickly sliding them off. Drew topples over his brother again, grinding his briefs against Jonathan's hot bare skin, his cock begging to release from all the pressure and teasing. Drew can't say he already doesn't feel the same tension in his own body.
Drew quickly pulls off his own briefs, leaning down for one more quick kiss on Jonathan's neck, hot air makes Jonathan shiver again against his brothers touch. "I love you so much. You know that right." Jonathan's face becomes a deep red, shying away from his brothers fleeting glance as he waits for his comment. Drew pulls Jonathan's face up to look at his by the chin, cupping his jaw. "It's okay." Drew smiles, placing another kiss on his lips. Drew knows how Jonathan feels about talking about love with his brother. He knows that he loves him just as much, but he's always so hesitant to say it when they're having sex. He always assumed that it's connected to the act and not his real emotions, so most of the time Drew just assumed he knows he's being honest and takes the fact alone that he knows Jonathan loves him even if he doesn't say it back often during these times. Jonathan is much more reserved about showing his emotions, especially after how rough it was for Jonathan in his childhood. He's never came right out and said it, but Drew knows. Regardless, Drew can feel his brothers love radiate from him, and that's enough.
"Spit." Drew demands, holding his hand out for Jonathan to take, and he does as he's told. Drew grabs his hard, throbbing cock, running his hand with Jonathan's saliva down it and gently thrusts into Jonathan. "Goddamnit, you feel so fucking good." Jonathan groans, pumping his body to meet the rhythm of his twin, begging for more. Drew continues to thrust harder and harder as Jonathan moans with pleasure while he grinds his body back against Drew's. Drew slides his free hand that isn't helping to balance between his brothers legs and smoothly runs his hand against Jonathan's hard needy cock. He can feel the anticipation building, knowing that Jonathan has had so much foreplay that he can barely contain himself. Drew's thrusting with his hand sliding against Jonathan won't let the him last much longer under the pressure. Drew doesn't think he can last much longer himself at how tight and perfect Jonathan feels under him.
"God Drew, harder, please. Make me come, I'm so close." Jonathan pants, his brother sliding his hand against his shaft quicker and quicker, pounding harder into him. His own eyes are becoming steadily more heavier with the weight of his own orgasm quick approaching. "Fuck Drew, I'm gonna come, I'm coming." Jonathan grabs the comforter around him, gripping fists of whatever he can reach. He throws his head back, spilling warm all down his brothers quick moving hand, down onto his stomach. Drew can barely continue to thrust after watching the pleasure he entertained on his brother, working in harder and harder each time he slams into Jonathan. "Fuck, fuck, Jonathan." He moans, slamming into him a final time, thighs shaking hard from the instant release he feels, soaking up the bliss from the orgasm. Drew slowly pulls out from his brother and lazily hovers over him, licking what Jonathan left for him on his stomach snd twitching cock. "You're always so good." Drew exclaims, sheepishly biting down on his lip, giving his brother a look of lust and hunger. Jonathan pulls his brother down for a sloppy, exhausted kiss before Drew slides off the side of the bed and drags Jonathan behind him towards the shower.
Jonathan is so exhausted, he could fall asleep right now, but Drew turns the steaming water on and Jonathan is instantly enveloped with the warm droplets of water hitting him as his brother adjusts the shower temperature just right. "Come on, I'll wash you." Drew motions for his twin to step into the shower, under the hot stream of water and Jonathan is instantly in heaven. He keeps his eyes closed and focuses on staying awake as Drew hums, massaging shampoo and working it into his hair. He is concerned when Drew stops, but is again relieved when he runs the sponge all over his body with soap, careful to relax every sore muscle that had to deal with the crazy couple on the renovation today.
After Drew finishes washing Jonathan off, he washes himself and dries them both off, padding warm and clean feet towards the bedroom again so he can find them something comfortable to get into. Though they haven't ever discussed it, neither one of them is particular to sleeping without clothes on, even together. Drew slides on some warm flannel sleeping pants and a shirt and hands Jonathan some shorts and a t-shirt as well to throw on while Drew searches the channels to find the chopped marathon Jonathan is so obsessed with every night they get together. Drew is the cold blooded one, it seems, and Jonathan is always so hot when he sleeps, so he can barely keep shorts on, let alone flannel pants to keep him warmer. Drew secretly thinks that Jonathan assumes he will pick up more recipes to make for him, since Drew is the cook of the two, and thinks about teasing him about it, but doesn't. He sees how's relaxed and calm Jonathan finally is, heading towards the bed to greet Drew who has successful found the right channel and pulled back the comforter enough for Jonathan to cuddle up close to him.
Jonathan snuggles up next to his brother, Drew throwing an arm over him. He knows he should be working on the stuff he needs to take to the site tomorrow, but he just wants to relax and enjoy his brother's presence while he falls asleep. He knows that Drew will get up after he falls asleep and work on some stuff for him while he's checking emails and whatnot. Drew is always there to catch the remainder of what Jonathan doesn't get done in a day, and he is so thankful that his brother is there for him when he can't be there for himself. Jonathan tries to stay awake while they're starting the dessert round on this episode, because he doesn't think he has seen it before, but Drew's hand rubbing circles in his hair softly is becoming too much to keep his heavy eyes open. "I do love you, Drew. More than you could ever imagine." Jonathan mumbles into his brother's side, quickly drifting off between powdered sugar, raw shrimp, and the quiet chuckle of his brother as he realizes that he was finally answering him back from earlier. And no; Drew thinks, as he begins to open his laptop to work on emailing, you don't love me more than I could ever imagine, because my love for you is unmeasurable.
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