#i hate that fucking americans of all people get to decide the fate of the world

[shoveitevil]

this website man i cannot for such an anti liberal website why can’t they put aside their pride and be just a little pragmatic for once in their damned lives

[lady-lazagna]

May we know what are your top five hated character in the beyblade and why you despise them?? 🙏

I am known for one thing and it's being a fucking hater😎

When I think about characters that I hate, it's less about them being shit people in the show and more about them making my viewing experience worse. Like, sure, you can help save the world and whatnot, but are you funny? Heartfelt? Cool? Do you have any personality traits outside of the exposition you were made to deliver? Do you bounce off the other characters' energy well? (Basically, were you or were you not introduced in Fury😐 /hj)

So overall, this isn't a list of characters I would beat the shit out of if we met; they're ones that made the show worse for me and thus I hate their very conception with a burning passion.

Interestingly enough, I can't actually think of five characters that I genuinely hate, so I've made a top four instead. Sure, there are more I don't really like, but those ones aren't as hate-inducing as they are just kind of bland. So if you expected certain antagonists to be on here, just know that they were likely too boring to hate.

Without further ado, here's the top four worst characters in mfb (to me):

4. Chris

This is just a nothing character. A nothing man. They could've had an interesting idea with the blader for hire idea, but instead, it was squandered for a basic "everyone left me" backstory. What a bummer, man. Never heard that one before. Tetsuya and King are crying their eyes out fr :/

What really gets me about him, though, is that despite being so nothing, he takes up a spot as a legendary blader, when that could've been ANYONE. This character is the first legendary blader we find after we figure out who we're actually looking for; it could be any Winter constellation blader- and it's just a fucking white guy who's a little bit mean. Noah Fence to Mr. Adachi, but his favourite legendary blader- who in the manga is a blue-blooded American military man- is the man standing emoji??? Great.

3. Ryo Hagane/The Immortal Phoenix (more like penis haha)

Avert your eyes, Sadie, Arti and Deity. L FATHER. L DIRECTOR. L HUMAN. Oh, I almost died in a volcanic cave-in that destroyed my home and sent my son on a quest for revenge? THIS WILL BE A GREAT LEARNING EXPERIENCE FOR HIM :) No Hokuto, don't tell him I'm alive while we're 50 METRES AWAY FROM EACH OTHER, he still has some Beyblade things to learn before he can have his father back. And oh man, he came third in that one tournament?? How did he let this happen??? Let me just dress up like a clown and DESTROY ALL THE PROGRESS HE MADE TOWARDS TRYING TO STOP THE GUYS THAT HE THINKS KILLED ME.

And when the jig is up and he's finally revealed, he's just like "I did what I thought was best😌" and Benkei's like "You should be in jail you sick fuck" and that's honestly a Benkei W. But he doesn't go to jail. In fact... some fucking idiot put him in charge of the WBBA, which means he can now make stupid decisions that fuck over not just his own son, but ALL of the children of Japan! Yay!!!

No Hikaru, we can't let Gan Gan Galaxy or Wild Fang rest despite half the kids being critically injured, that's special treatment! Oh but yes Gingka, I will let the TWO teams that attacked you guys outside of the competitions off the hook so that you can still battle them, I love special treatment! And yes Tsubasa, I think you should spend more time with Gingka and the gang to learn about friendship and become stronger, but NO Tsubasa, you should NOT go with Gingka and the gang to look for legendary bladers when you can just do it completely by yourself! L FATHER. L DIRECTOR. L. HUMAN.

The only reason he's not lower is because he leads to funnies (see above).

2. Yuki Mizusawa

Do you ever feel like your one purpose in life is to tell some guy about his fate, and since you don't have anything left to accomplish on this earth you decide to follow him while he achieves this fate? Oh sure, you might feel a little better after becoming a part of that fate, but really, what do you honestly contribute other than "we need to find the legendary bladers that possess the star fragments so that we can defeat Nemesis!"? Because that is all you fucking say.

To really explain my gripe with this pathetic dork whom I could easily fold up and shove in my dishwasher, here is an excerpt from some notes I was making during my second Fury rewatch:

(The first and last quotes are from Ryo. At least he can be funny while also being a waste of space👀)

Maybe I wouldn't hate him so much if he hadn't replaced Based characters like Kenta (who I know was getting some important development at the time, but still😤), Yu, and even my main man Tsoobs (who as previously mentioned, was unfairly separated from the gang by a fucking idiot loser). But he did. He took up that heartfelt, funny, and cool space to be. a slightly damp sock.

Was there potential for Yuki to be something more if the writers of Fury weren't smoking the psychedelic betel nuts that grow in my neighbour's yard that keep falling into our pool? I don't fucking care. If he had more of a personality other than "Mr. Gingka!" and "my grandfather once said-" then maybe I would.

1. Dynamis

SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UUUUUUUUUP. From the moment this fucker is introduced all he does is spew exposition. And that is entirely it. If I hear ONE MORE FUCKING WORD about "the stars, and what is fated, and the gods, and the will of the heavens, and the will of the stars, and-" THIS TIME I'M REALLY GONNA DO IT.

When my sibling and I first watched through Fury we were simply ASTOUNDED. at how fucking boring this guy is. Seriously, we took a long hiatus from watching after his introductory episodes because they were so mind-numbing (in fact, I think the hiatus might've lasted up until our dog fucking DIED, because I was so upset that I would've rather felt incredibly bored than sad LMAO).

You'd think it would've gotten at least a little more interesting when he gets possessed, but no. He sounds exactly the fucking same or he just doesn't talk at all (I'm pretty sure there was no point in him being possessed at all, but I digress). He gets pulled back to the goodies with the power of friendship or whatever and then BOOM. I GOTTA TELL AGUMA ABOUT THE STARS, AND THE WILL OF THE HEAVENS, AND THE GODS, AND THE FATES AND I'M REALLY GONNA DO IT THIS TIME.

All in all, what I hate in the show is wasting time with exposition, being a nothing person with no character, and teaching lessons that aren't fucking lessons you need to teach. Thanks for the suggestion, anon!

[gluttcn]

.*･｡ﾟ ━ (robert sheehan, cismale, he/him) the fates have spotted gulliver buckley walking along the streets of ogygia. the 35 year old has been here for ten years and currently lives in ithica villas. word on the street is that he is adventurous & fun, but can be pretty sarcastic & prone to blind rage. i’ve heard he is an owner of bacchus winery, which is pretty fitting for someone who was dionysus in a past life. on the night of the murder he was supposedly throwing the year’s best rager, but who knows if that’s true or not. 

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

FULL NAME: Stephen Charles Freeman

ALIAS | NICKNAMES: Gulliver Buckley, though not legally. | Gully, Gul, Buck, Mr. B.

BIRTHDAY | AGE: January 21st, 35.

BIRTH LOCATION | CITIZENSHIP: Somewhere in America but he'll never tell. | Gulliver has American citizenship.

CURRENT LOCATION: The island of Ogygia.

SEXUALITY: Kinda bi, really fruity.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English.

OCCUPATION | DEGREES: Owner of the Bacchus Winery. | None.

IQ | ETC: The last that he was tested, Gulliver was diagnosed with ADHD and anger management issues.

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Literally anything WEIRD. Is convinced cats are the devil's doing.

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

In another life, Dionysus was originally known as the God of Fertility before also being known as the God of Wine and Pleasure. Really all he did was fuck around and find out; while sometimes being a reason of arguments in the family, but mostly finding his own fun elsewhere. Despite this, he royally pissed Hera off and was cursed to be torn apart and die each Winter for his drunken debauchery.

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

In this life, Dionysus was reincarnated as Stephen Freeman; the son of a rich man who wanted the absolute best from his family. Seeing as he never had the attention span to pay attention in school, Stephen didn't graduate high school and at the age of eighteen was kicked out of the Freeman household. Homeless, he begged for money to fill his vices, and at the age of twenty-one, he won millions on a half scratched lottery ticket. Just how many? Let's just say that despite owning a large luxurious villa now, operating a winery that sells in many parts of the world and throwing the best parties on the island, he still hasn't run out of the money he won. Before he moved to the island, he also decided to go by Gulliver Buckley, two mashups of Gulliver from Gulliver's Travels (as well as the fact that it literally means GLUTTON!!!) and Buckley (a man he met while homeless). He never changed his name but neither name really seems to fit him long enough to pay attention to it.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

A best friend and ride or die - TAKEN BY KORA. These two are absolutely inseparable to the very point that Gulliver made his spare bedroom strictly hers if she comes to visit and is too tired to go home or needs a place to crash after one of his parties. **Will add more once plotted out with Kora/Admin Cat.

Someone he absolutely annoys. Maybe they're neighbors who hate him for his loud parties? Maybe someone who thinks he could do so much more with himself than drinking and partying? Etc, etc.

Someone who often gets swept into his chaos, though he definitely brings out the worst in some people.

More to come when I think of them?

[manteaublanc]

#manteaublanc :: ind. sel. 18+ only red dead redemption/western oc. HEAVILY UNDER CONSTRUCTION

PERSONALS DNI. MUTUALS ONLY.

a study in devotion, generational curses, learned kindness, and chosen family

gabriel || she/they || 26

interest tracker || memes || headcanons || open starters || wanted plots

heavily affiliated with motley aka @hauntboxed

rules and about under the cut until i get a carrd made

rules

one. don’t be a dick. all usual rules apply (no godmodding, no bigotry, ect)

two. tag your shit, i’ll tag mine

three. anon hate will not be tolerated.

four. i will not ship casey with any muses under 25. this number may change.

five. i ship chemistry. don’t follow assuming you’ll get a ship.

six. feel free to fuck casey up but understand he is a violent man and i will not nerf my oc for your comfort

seven. enjoy the boy!

about

name: casey beau baptiste

nickname/alias: the bear, big casey

age: verse dependant; 60 main verse

fc: clancy brown

dob: november 30, 1839

height: 6’6”

nationality: french/american

religion: former catholic

orientation: heterosexual

relationship status: single; widower

location: nomad

history: casey was born in 1839 to circus performers -- a french trapeze artist and the cajun ringmaster. he grew up in the circus, and he grew fast. due to his size, he wound up becoming the circus’ strongman at age sixteen. during his time at the circus, he married his childhood sweetheart, marnie, on his eighteenth birthday. at twenty-two, he found he had a talent for long distance shooting, and became a sniper for the union during the civil war. it was during the war his wife was killed, so when all was said and done, casey found himself wandering the country, trying to find work, but having little success due to his lack of skill, drinking habit, and bad temper. he turned to a life of crime and odd jobs -- and pissing off a lot of people -- and eventually lands a job as a shotgun messenger.

one fateful day, he does his job as normal, but there’s an adorable passenger aboard the stage coach he’s protecting that would go on to change his life forever -- a little five year old girl named evelyn holyss (created by motley on motsoleum.) she’s sweet and kind to him with wide eyed curiosity, and he develops a soft spot for her over the course of the stage coach’s journey. unfortunately, things don’t stay easy, and toward the end of the job, the stage coach is attacked by lemoyne raiders. casey himself is incapacitated and awakens to find a massacre...and its only survivor: little evelyn holyss. the little girl’s family had been killed in the process, and as such, she had no one left. her predicament pulled at what was left of casey’s heart strings, and he promised her he’d keep her safe. what followed was casey unofficially adopting her, and as a result, he tried to clean up his act -- drinking less, starting less fights, and just in general trying to become a better person and be a good father to the girl.

eventually, his past does catch up to him in the form of a moonshiner he’d stolen from once. the man resorts to threatening evelyn to get even, even trying to hurt her, but the papa bear instinct is strong with this one, and casey showed the man no mercy as he beat him to death with only his fists and pure rage, stopping only when evelyn begged him to stop. realizing how badly he’d scared her, casey promised to never lose his cool like that again, and realizes on the quiet ride to their next temporary home just how far he’s willing to go to protect this kid -- his daughter.

though they never had a whole lot of money, casey never let it affect evelyn: her clothes were always clean and tailored, her shoes never had holes in them, and she always had food in her belly, even when casey went without.

eventually, the two joined the van der linde gang -- mostly out of desperation -- and until the spring of 1899, that’s where they stayed. after an altercation with the gang’s leader, casey left in a rage, with evelyn deciding to stay behind.

the gang eventually falls apart, and the two are reunited after a fellow outlaw, arthur morgan, tells casey what’s happening and that he needs to get evelyn away from dutch and the remaining outlaws. he agrees, and the two escape the van der linde gang by the skin of their teeth.

casey managed to live until the age of seventy-five until his age and days of drinking and smoking caught up to him, but before he passed, he made sure to save every penny and pass it on to evelyn: one final act to support his daughter before he died.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 328: Pandora’s Box of Discourse

Previously on BnHA: DEKU TOOK A BATH.

Today on BnHA: 

Also Naomasa grew a beard. Goddamn. 

please let this be a cool chapter that plays nice with my ADHD lol

(ETA: lol I feel guilty because a lot of people hated this chapter, but I’m just happy there was a lot of stuff to make fun of, and also that I have another week to work on my backlog of meta posts since the kids were MIA.)

around one month ago?? ah, okay, so we’re gonna find out what was in that Tartarus security file huh

I love that they just randomly set the place on fire

was it necessary to do this in order to escape? no. was it a good idea to set the island they were occupying on fire while they were in the midst of still occupying it? uh. was it cinematic as fuck? fuck yeah

wow it’s a pervert!!

that’s so great that the villains set loose this fine fellow who I’m sure is definitely not a serial rapist. truly the LoV is so noble and misunderstood. they’re just trying to free society from its chains people

oh my god??!

SHANKED!!! oh my god I cheered for Stain before I realized what I was doing. time to have an identity crisis I guess

so he’s all “hey what’s going on.” which, while a respectable question, is something I personally would have waited to ask until I had put a bit of distance between myself and the fiery murder island. but that’s just my personal preference

Stain you really are tenacious I’ll give you that

“what’s the point of escaping prison if you’re not gonna be smart about it” well shit. anyways yeah you’re dead right, society is in the process of collapsing and the outside world is in total chaos, good call there

oh shit

I mean it’s not like we really expecting anything otherwise, but still. fucking brutal. I feel like these guys’ fates were decided the minute that one guy called AFO “scum” back in chapter 94. AFO is unmatched at getting long-term revenge

??

ahh, was it the security footage??

fdsdfk he’s still alive??

and he’s immediately launching into an inappropriately theatrical monologue even as the darkness closes in on him fdlfksjdlk. you know, was it ever confirmed that the other guy back in chapter 297 was Seiji’s dad? I’m just saying

very impressed that he’s still coherent enough to weigh the pros and cons before making the decision to gamble on giving this info to Stain, who at the very least has his own moral code and isn’t allied with AFO. it was definitely still a risk, but as we now know it was also the right call

what a weird alliance. so Stain tells him that he’ll give it to a just person, and the guy is all,

okay for real though I’m gonna need someone to run a DNA test on this guy. maybe it was some kind of cuckold situation?? the other guy had the family resemblance, but this guy absolutely 100% raised Shishikura Seiji and you are not going to convince me otherwise

anyway, so Stain is all,

PRISON GUARD: “???? ??????? what the hell. what the fuck does that fucking mean. I’m dying here, jesus christ, whatever man fuck you”

(ETA: I kind of feel like this might have been Stain’s last appearance in the manga, given all the fanfare. there’s not really much else he can do for the story at this point, and he seems to have gotten all the character development Horikoshi was planning on giving him. so if this really is it, hasta la vista and good riddance I guess.)

DWLFDKSLDK MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE

(ETA: I feel like this is meant to be evocative of that Sermon on the Mount painting, but in a really fucked up way lol.)

if it were me stumbling upon this scene I would just shake my head and walk right back into the flaming building. not getting involved in that mess. sorry not sorry. I’ll take my chances with the fire, especially given that it’s half-assed neutered BnHA fire lol

blah blah blah and so he decided to pass the info on to All Might -- HOT DAMN, HOLY SHIT

NAOMASA HOLY SHIT. THE APOCALYPSE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU, BOY

“I really like that facial scruff thing Aizawa’s got going on, I think I’m gonna get in on that” yes sir. “also thinking of ditching the tie in favor of the bulletproof vest look. also thinking of getting totally fucking jacked.” good lord. except I’m pretty sure that’s just body armor, but also I don’t care. anyway I should probably stop staring and actually read the fucking speech bubbles here lol

“All Might first handed this information over to Nao, and then went to see Deku, and then came back to Nao” thanks for that tidy little summary Horikoshi. we are capable of piecing events together in sequential order, I just want you to know that. but thank you

“so has Deku finally gotten a bath? also, sucks that Stain saved the day, but what are you gonna do” Nao I missed you so fucking much and didn’t even realize. how am I just now realizing that you are the perfect man

for a second I was gonna ask why Tartarus’s security systems would be cut off from the outside world, and then I remembered that’s a basic security control, and then I actually got impressed by how sensible that is. like, it’s been a while since I could genuinely say that the good guys (excluding class 1-A) did something smart. not that it helped them much in the end, but still

anyway so they’re talking about how AFO was able to coordinate the attack by communicating between his horcrux self on the outside and his ugly peanut-faced self on the inside

huh

okay you have my attention. I am taking notes here lol please continue

ah okay so he says that prior to Jakku, the transfer of information between him and his Vestige self was only one-way. but post-Jakku when Deku was in the hospital, he was able to tell what was happening inside the OFA Radical Lisa Frank Dead People Book Club Realm when he touched him. I feel like we established that before, actually. but he didn’t talk about how it actually felt, though

boy we already know this lol. yes AFO can talk with his horcrux self. and he can also communicate with his little bro in OFA too, let’s talk about that sometime why don’t we. what exactly does that imply, based on the rules we’ve established here

my god I cannot get over Naomasa and his fucking facial hair

no wonder All Might was in such a hurry to leave Deku and get back here

like I have no idea what this radio waves nonsense is but my god, people

that jawline. also so it’s a quirk, I see. except last I checked Deku didn’t have a radio waves quirk, so that doesn’t really explain his connection to AFO. but whatever, hopefully we’re at least getting closer to some kind of reveal here

(ETA: since I sometimes forget that other people’s lives don’t revolve around my theory posts, here are the two relevant links if you by chance want to know my thoughts about this.

Hagakure is still The U.A. Traitor™ regardless of whether Deku is passing information on to AFO through his psychic link, which he almost certainly is.

speaking of said psychic link, Deku is a horcrux.

just posting these now, because whenever trippy OFA stuff happens I tend to get an influx of theory asks. so hopefully this will be a bit of a time saver lol.)

-- wait, what

THAT’S what the recording was??!? holy SHIT. I genuinely was not expecting that. y’all wiretapped his fucking telepathy. fucking quirks, man. wild

AND THEY USED THAT POWER TO DETERMINE WHAT WE ALREADY KNEW, HUZZAH. GOOD SHOW

-- oh shit wait lol, except I forgot we’re not talking about 38 days from the present, we’re talking about 38 days from the date the conversation was recorded. heh. um

yeah that’s the face I would make too if All Fucking Might just casually told me we had eight days left until the end times

oh, pardon me. three fucking days

r.i.p. anyone who thought we were going to have another band arc sob. I sure hope Deku is enjoying that nap

(ETA: I realize people were hoping for a longer rest period here, but given that the man warned us all the way back in chapter 306 that we were entering the final act, you can’t really blame him too much when that turns out to be true. anyway but I do recognize that we’ve reached the point in the story where this kind of discourse is going to become a weekly occurrence, simply because there’s no possible way for Horikoshi’s actual endgame to line up perfectly with the variable headcanons of millions of fans, all of whom have wildly differing and in many cases contradictory expectations which can’t possibly all be fulfilled. anyway, so I’m already bracing myself for that lol. this coming year is going to be a wild ride.)

damn, U.A. out here looking like the motherfucking United Nations

-- is this U.A.?? I actually just realized, U.A. is four interconnected buildings, not two. wait holy shit is this Shiketsu?

wait holy SHIT

based on the overwhelmingly powerful vibes of bureaucratic incompetence, I’m thinking this really is the (future) U.N., or whatever organization it is that deals with international hero stuff

“just let them handle it themselves I’m sure they’ll be fine” yeah okay, thanks guys. appreciate it

wait oh shit did he say that it’s not just Japan?

soooo, what you’re telling me is that AFO is this close to bringing about the end of not just Japan, but the entire world, and you guys don’t think it’s a good idea to help the Japanese heroes stop him? so, genuine follow-up question: are you guys already planning your rich people exodus into space a la Wall-E, and that’s why you don’t give a fuck?? like, what??

omg international heroes

these guys are from World Hoodie Mission, right? is this Horikoshi’s way of reminding me to buy tickets

(ETA: and it worked too lol.)

WHO??? WHAT???

don’t tell me you’re introducing yet another badass new female character for me to fall in love with only to watch as you dismember them and/or blow them up, Horikoshi. I’m getting tired of playing this game my dude. don’t lie and tell me this time will be different. we’re not doing this again goddammit

noooooooooooooooooooo

god fucking dammit lmao. [sighs and rips the previous paragraph into shreds]

on behalf of Americans I apologize for our superheroes always being Like This

I also apologize because I love her already and I’m gonna be shameless about it. so fucking shameless you guys

is her fucking hair red white and blue. it is, isn’t it

this is the volume cliffhanger, 100% lol. it will take every ounce of Horikoshi’s willpower not to put her on the volume cover. he’ll have to settle for the spine or the inner cover this time because Deku VS his class 1-a superpals takes precedence. but it will be a close thing let me tell you

tbh it’s that smile that does it for me. she’s definitely All Might’s protege. get out there and show them how it’s done girl. and maybe call Salaam and BRD and see if you can’t convince them to play hooky from their governments as well. why not. world’s ending in three days you guys. “sorry, I’m busy this weekend” ain’t gonna cut it lol

so while I am not fully caught up with Vigilantes, I have read far enough to know that there’s an American hero named Captain Celebrity whose superpower from what I recall is being a humongous douchebag. and while I haven’t read far enough to know what happens to this guy, I can’t say I’m very disappointed to learn that he’s no longer the number one hero in the U.S. (actually, didn’t they kick him out and that’s why he moved to Japan to begin with?). anyway, so my thanks to Horikoshi for having a marginally higher opinion of Americans than Furuhashi, even though we have definitely not done anything to warrant said opinion lately, and you may have inadvertently opened the door to a pandora’s box of discourse lmao

(ETA: lol I went into the tags and they don’t disappoint. “why is she dressed like a flag” because she’s an homage to Captain America and Major Victory and literally every other character on this list. again, I apologize for fictional American superheroes being Like This. “oh boy another thicc waifu to make the fanboys happy” look, tumblr fandom never seems to have a problem thirsting over Dabi or Tomura or Aizawa or Nao, lol, I’m just saying. “where is Captain Celebrity” idk, probably murdered by the exploding bee cartel, let’s just be grateful for our good fortune and try not to Beetlejuice the man.)

anyway, so let’s see if Horikoshi’s recent character development with regards to making Mineta not terrible anymore will apply to other aspects of his writing as well. I know I was making light of discourse just now, but I do think the complaints about him introducing yet another new character at the 11th hour to be cannon fodder in the final battle are absolutely valid. and again, it wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t keep maiming/killing off his female characters one by one instead of developing them and letting them kick ass long-term. but that said, I will never complain about Horikoshi adding another female character to the series, regardless of how clumsy the attempt may be. go ahead and pander away, just give us more girl power lol

anyway so we’ll see how it goes, but I think I’m gonna be optimistic and let myself hope once again, even though I’m probably gonna regret it lol. it is what it is. she is standing on an airplane just chilling for fuck’s sake. I’m only human. anyway fingers crossed

[lazarettta]

Misthios

Characters (Reader x Mother Miranda...?) 👀

Rating (T)

Word Count (2.8k)

Warnings (none, first half is has no dialogue, writing while high,)

Once her little warrior, always her little warrior.

I'm sorry if it's hot 🗑💀

The fire was finally the way you wanted it and you could finally fucking rest. You'd been hiking all goddamn day through the rain and snow, and you just wanted a minute to rest and to eat. The sun was starting to set and you still needed to set up your tent, but for the moment you were content to just sit on the log and get warm.

“Who'd ever think a Spartan would be in Rome looking for answers, hm?” it was ironic, how you would've been accused of being a traitor or something like that back then. Ha...back then?

Truthfully you weren't sure anymore where your life really started it's been so long, centuries really if you were being honest. Sometimes even your own secrets were too overwhelming for you to admit, and as the years continued to pass you by it was getting harder and harder for you to hold onto the same principles you once believed in. The wars you've participated in, two of them by choice...and as a favor for the third.

It shouldn't have been possible but it was for you, it was both a blessing and a curse because you were nothing special...you grew up with Spartan blood running through your veins, pushed at a young age to hunt and to protect, it was a common tradition for families then, especially for the oldest or only children. Your didn't ever recall your father, he died in battle before you were born but your mother was there, always. Even if her face was blurry after all of the time that has passed you by—you still remember her teachings and her technique. Your mother was the best hunter in Sparta, proudly.

But after...after her passing, the streets taught you how to be a mercenary at a young age...and then an assassin, not by choice but by necessity because you weren't a good person then, not really, and you still weren't now...but you still had the will do what was right, and so you did.

And maybe that is why the Gods did not let you die in the battlefield when you'd been caught off guard, for what is no longer relevant as it is now long gone, but the scar left through your heart would forever stain you inside and out by some random Greek bastard. You don't remember much of the dying part as much as you remembered how badly it hurt and how livid you were watching him stand over you with his bloody sword raised to the heavens. But just like your pain, that emotion was ebbed away as you laid there dying.

And die you did. And your body laid there for who knows how long but when you woke up, oh you sprung up ready to fight but there wasn't a fight left to be had...the war was over...but you didn't know that until you woke up the second time. Not realizing that your body was next to be burned in the ditch as the battlefield was being cleared of all the corpses from both sides. A gruesome chore performed by the prisoners taken by Sparta.

You had no idea why the Gods healed you and brought you back from the dead, you didn't deserve a second chance (at the time you didn't realize that it was a power). You were blessed by the Gods and that's all that it was, people looked at you with both awe and envy. Some gave all of their iron and dearest family possessions as a gift to the Gods in hopes that their wishes were granted. They hated you and you did not care. You were unstoppable, everyone wanted your attention and your skills—it made you arrogant and stupid for years. And when you caught a pretty nasty gash across your back from a werewolf that ambushed you and your horse, your leathers had been torn and bloody by the time you speared your way through four of those beasts. But while there was blood, there was no wound...the only evidence were the scars it left behind.

Snap!

You turned your head slightly, a few strands of your hair falling in front of your ever sharp (y/e/c) eyes. You stayed perfectly still, eyes scanning the forest surrounding you but there was nothing after several moments. Just as well...with a loud sigh, you finally got up to put up your tent for the night and probably for the next few nights too. You slipped your hunting knife back into your boot but kept it unhooked just in case.

You lived in a time where guns existed but you were always better with a blade. You may not be an active misthios now (mercenary in today's world) but old habits were hard to kick. You were too old and too wise now, even if you didn't look a day over twenty-eight.

The next morning...

You woke with a start your grip around your obsidian hunting knife so tight your knuckles your skin strained against bone. You didn't have a dream but something woke you up, and it wasn't those damn birds chirping literally above your tint. With the help of the morning sun you could even see the spot where one of them pooped. Great. You laid there for a few more minutes, finally relaxed enough to move. You checked your surroundings again, walking around your camp but that feeling of unease didn't go away but it wasn't as strong.

Today was clearer than it was the day before though you still had to deal with the snow and the cold, not that either really bothered you too much. Leaving your camp behind, marking the trees so that you had a way to find your way back through these unfamiliar woods, you set off to find breakfast. You came to an edge, a cliff's peak and you went to stand on the edge of it—to maybe see the rest of the mountain you were exploring but something caught your immediate attention.

When was the last time you ever saw a castle? Not...not those tourist marks they have all over Europe but a castle. The place was eerie but most castles always felt that way to you...but this was different? It was as if the castle was looking right back at you, mocking you. From your vantage point you could make out the edges of a lake through the thick trees, you couldn't see it very well but you could tell it wasn't small nor was it man-made.

It was a pleasant surprise to discover this as you assumed that your trip would mostly be you exploring this cold ass mountain without a proper guide but you didn't need anyone to know why you were really up here, your reasons concerned no one but yourself. That and you knew you'd end up leading your guide. You were better off alone. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself that but those words stopped being comforting a very long time ago. Not like fate was giving you much of a fucking choice though.

Your stomach growled, reminding you of your hunt...you glanced down at the village below the castle curiously before turning away from the ledge, the heavy aura of the castle still on your back.

~~

Fat and full, that's exactly how you'd describe yourself at the moment. There were more predators in the area than there were prey it seemed but the rabbit you caught seemed plentiful enough. With winter kicking in, the most worrisome predator in the woods would be hibernating leaving nothing but the wolves and maybe a mountain lion for you to deal with if you're lucky. You hefted your smaller backpack onto your back and left your camp, deciding to check out the village to see if you could learn more about the castle.

You were both excited and curious, you'd spent a majority of your modern life exploring the wonders of the Earth and using the currency you've collected throughout your lifetimes to fund whatever myth caught your eye. In other words, you were bored but the thought of war and fighting no longer made your blood sing or your heart race. You've done so much of that already, and lost so much because of it.

“Get back! Get back! Agh—GET THE FUCK BACK!”

Your legs stopped moving immediately and your gloved hand was already wrapped around the hilt of your hunting knife, ears trained. You heard growling and barking not too far from where you stood, maybe two or three hundred feet to your right just through those bushes and that fallen tree. It sounded as if someone was having a bit of trouble with a pack of wolves. Which struck you as odd, you were still pretty high up on the mountains and you hadn't seen anyone else up here in a week, so it couldn't have been a local...could it?

The growling grew more intense and there were sounds of a scuffle and grunts but the man still sounded alive.

And it wasn't your problem. Your days of coming to the rescue were over. You allowed your hand to fall from your knife. You got maybe seven steps away before the man spotted you, he caught a glimpse of your fur lined hood and started screaming for you to help him just as one of the wolves snapped the branch he was holding in half, forcing his back against a tree. His time was counting down now.

He was yelling so loud, you were sure even the villagers could hear him now. There was no way you could walk away now.

“Fucking hell.” with a heavy sigh, you dropped your backpack and stalked in the direction of the soon to be crime scene. You didn't feel the need to mask your presence, you wanted the wolves to know that you were there and that ultimately saved that man's life. The wolves were honed in on you the moment you stepped through the bush but three shots echoed through the small clearing before any of them could pounce in your direction. The echoes faded away quickly, and you sighed again watching the white snow stain red beneath the furry corpses.

The only other sound heard was the man's heavy breathing as he leaned against a tree. You looked down at your gun before putting it back in it's holster on your lower back, you may prefer blades but it was always better to have something and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

“Thank...thank you,”

You looked at the man with furrowed brows...just by looking at him, you knew that he wasn't a native but the moment he opened his mouth only confirmed it. He was American...you spotted all of his gear nearby, torn to shreds and you scoffed.

“I don't think camping is for you.”

“I don't think so either,” He tried for a smile but it was only a grimace, the blonde man pushed himself from the tree and approached you, carefully stepping around the wolves bodies, “I'm uh a bit lost, I guess.”

“And I'm leaving.”

“Wait!” he rushed around you, stopping you and you could've gone through the man if you wanted to...you were taller than him by an inch or two, and you definitely had more mass than he probably knew what to do with, “Listen, I'm obviously not from here, but I'm trying to find my daughter okay, she's—”

“I'm not from around here,” you held your hand to make him stop while simultaneously telling yourself that you're not about to get involved in someone else's mess and derail your own mission, “I'm sorry about your kid, but I can't help you.”

He frowned at you obviously not happy with your answer but he was quickly reaching into his pocket and any normal person, especially someone who is armed, would've taken a step back but you weren't some ordinary person. You simply raised an eyebrow, because you knew that he wasn't going to attack you even though he was probably fully capable of doing so. You assumed that he was about to dig out a baby picture or something but it was just a sheet of paper with writing on it. You took it before he could shove the damn thing in your face and you looked down at it carefully, keeping your face neutral.

“I can't read whatever language that is.”

You glared up at him from beneath your lashes, “And you think that I can?”

“Can you?” he shot back, and you rolled your eyes...your attention back to the paper before shoving it back in his hands, “Well?”

You nearly scowled at his impatience, “It's a mix of Romanian, Serbian and Tatar. Whoever sent that clearly doesn't want anyone else to know what's on it.”

“So you can read it then?”

“Bits and pieces,” You said with a shrug, “I'm not expert but someone named Beneviento is demanding a shorter route for wine delivery from that giant castle.”

He stared at you then down to the paper, which was full from top to bottom, then back to you, “What...that's all? Are you sure?? No, that can't be all...there has to be something about my daughter here! Here, please, just try again slower—”

“That's all I could read.” you shouldered past him, throwing your hood back up and ignoring his calls after you. Your backpack was exactly where you dropped it, you shook off the snow and threw it back on your back not caring about the cool wetness on your back now—you just wanted to get away from this area as quickly as possible. You should've used your knife as those gunshots gave away your position.

“Amateur hour everyone,” you grumbled under your breath...you veered off the path slightly, just in case he tried to follow you (wouldn't be the first time someone tried to force you to help them).

You'd maybe walked for a mile or two down the mountain before you noticed the hairs on the back of your neck standing, you chanced a casual glance over your shoulder but there was no one there, no man nor animal. Licking your dry lips you turned back around but as you were doing so, you caught something in your peripheral. A dark figure, twenty feet away and that's when you noticed how fucking quiet everything was around you...you forced yourself to keep walking even as a feeling of dread began crawling up your back, like two sharp fingers walking along the ridges of your spine.

Pushing the hood from your head, you whirled around with your knife drawn at your side gripping it with the intentions to kill but there was nothing there except two large obsidian feathers fluttering gently down onto the snow at your boots. Feathers?

Cool breath touched the base of your neck when you heard soft chuckling directly behind you. You turned around sharply, easily flipping your knife around but the mass of darkness in front of you disoriented you for a split second and that was all this creature needed. Before you could plunge your knife into it's feathery belly, a pale hand shot out and caught your wrist in a bruising grip as another hand curled itself around your throat, sharp nails oh so slightly pricking your skin.

You were about to kick away when the creature leaned forward, and it's face came from beneath the hood...only it wasn't an it, it was a she, though her entire face was hidden by the gold headgear you could see her lips and...and her eyes.

A pair of eyes you'd never forget in any of your lifetimes. It felt like a millennia ago when those eyes alone had you on your knees covered in fresh warm blood and exhausted from tearing through small armies.

Despite yourself, you were trembling in her ironclad grip, your hand that wasn't still trapped fruitlessly came up to wrap around her wrist as if that was going to help you. You both knew that it wouldn't. She brought you closer until your feet were no longer on the ground and you could feel the tip of your blade pressing against something...no, her...and your nose was nearly touching her helmet.

“ο μικρός μου πολεμιστής...” (my little warrior...) her cool breath washed over your face, her eyes still boring down into yours so intensely you swore you felt the heat, even as her hand tightened around your throat making you choke, but you were fighting against her... “επιτέλους ήρθες σπίτι μου...” her chuckle fell on deaf ears. (you've finally come home to me...)

~~

You were supposed to run into Alcina first 😭, but Miranda works too...(save the best for last obvi) I don't know I am playing Odyssey while waiting for this game to drop and I went The Old Guard route too so then I just ended up writing some shit, and I wanted to try something that's not so maiden-esque lol so I hope it's enjoyable at least...I honestly might make this a WIP...

[fluffywolverine]

so season 6 of lucifer came out.

there were some things that i liked, but generally i hated it. i believe that was SUCH. BAD. WRITING and it left me frustrated. so i decided to write down all things that pissed me off and sometimes i try to fix this by giving other ideas that – in my opinion – would have made the story better. Check my points out and feel free to add your points of view. without further ado: let’s talk.

- imma start with the big one – fucking time travel. ok I generally hate this trope in the media, because it’s complicated and often leads to some logical mistakes – and they happened here. so rory time travels because of her anger which was caused… by her anger?? i think this was unnecessary. it also brings trouble with this whole free will vs. fate discourse. lucifer says, that he chooses free will… but at the same time he goes the path of his fate. he disappears from rory’s life, because he HAS TO in order of the events of the season to happen. just because he chose to do it, doesn’t mean it’s free will.

- lucifer becomes the very thing he desperately didn’t want to become. “bUt It WaS fOr ThE gReAtEr GoOd” screw this bullshit, if writers wanted to make it better, they could have easily do so. they could have altered the rules of time travel so that his choice of staying could have resulted in rory disappearing. yes, that would have been heart-breaking, but it would have been a great lesson for lucifer, that he can’t make the same mistakes his father did.

- chloe and Lucifer get a child without even talking about it. “bUt MaYbE tHeY tAlKeD aBoUt It We JuSt DiDn’T sEe It” you may say. but the point of writing anything  - whether it’s a book or a script – is to show any thing that matters. and talking about having kids is one of the most things any couple should do. also not every couple needs to have kids and forcing deckerstar to have it feels so far-fetched. this thread was very unnecessary.

- rory herself is a big problem. to begin with – she wanted to KILL her FATHER. i get her frustration, but commiting a murder?? just because he wasn’t there for her?? I would have thought that chloe taught her better, taught her that, like, killing people is bad. turns out she did not. secondly… she just isn’t necessary here. i elaborate later so in conclusion – her thread could be altered with michael’s and it would have made much more sense. i also don’t like the actress (why was she blinking so much??) so i certainly didn’t help.

- of course ella has to end up with a boyfriend. because earlier she always ended up with “bad boys” and now, without any help, she is just able to have a healthy relationship! yay! for me this creates a toxic view, that in order to be happy one HAS TO be in a relationship, because being alone is aLwAyS bAd. well, it’s not.

- i also have troubles with lucifer starting up a foundation for her. firstly, he didn’t ask her. secondly it – AGAIN – shows, that anything good ella got, was because of another man. firstly because of her relationship with carol, secondly because of lucifer’s idea. it could have been so easily altered! there could have been a scene of a conversation e.g. with amenadiel where she expressed a will to do better and be better for someone (given that she sees a lot of dark in herself). amenadiel could have then told her, that she is an inspiration and that it is her biggest strength. that could have been where ella came up with an idea to start a foundation blah blah – it’s just a rough idea but I believe that written well, it could have been so much better;

- and the last thing about ella – of course she had to find out about celestial stuff because sHe WaS tHe OnLy OnE rEmAiNiNg. umm what about trixie? i'll come back to her later. ella was portrayed as the only one believing in god and having her seeing that he really exists ruins the concept of faith. it’s not about knowing something exists, it’s about believing in it.

- WHERE THE FUCK IS MICHAEL. i must admit that i loved this character AND I CAN’T STAND HOW AWFULLY HE WAS TREATED HERE. so at the end of season 5 lucifer says “everyone deserves a second chance, even you michael". and what does he do then? COMMANDS HIS TWIN TO CLEAR THE FLOOR IN HELL. yes, i agree that michael should have been punished for his rebellion plan, but… he already has his wing cut off. now he’s stuck in hell, with no way out and is he supposed to learn his lesson? this is cruel. instead of this the entire season could have been centred on him – his journey to self-acceptance, learning how manipulating someone is toxic and starting to realise how to be a better person. at the end he could have become god (because amenadiel is such an obvious choice), which would create a beautiful connection – michael in heaven and his twin in hell.

- lucifer doesn’t feel like being god and that’s cool. damn. people died for him to win this place and he’s like “actually you know guys i’m not the right person bye”. while i believe that anyone should step out if they have a reason, but at the same time lucifer should have faced any consequences of his decisions. falling frog and kool aid in the river are not enough.

- adam’s plot feels just quickly sketched, not actually written. i really appreciate this take on toxic masculinity but it all felt too fast-paced. it’s good that they show this idea of “strong and not-showing-any-feelings man” kind of attitude, but it is impossible for ANYONE (especially The ManTM) to change their mind in a matter of a few days. it takes weeks, months, years even, especially given that adam is like a gazillion years old, he should have especially taken a long time to process this.

- carol is just too pure to exist. he’s also one of the most boring, plain and one-dimensional character i’ve ever seen. i feel like they gave him a problem with alcohol because the writers were like “hmmmmm he has to have some weakness. LET’S MAKE HIM AN ALCOHOLIC”. we don’t see any signs of his everyday struggle, why did he fell into this problem, how did struggle. it just feels like a dull plot device to show that he has flaws. oh and also he’s so pure that he doesn’t mind ella BREAKING INTO HIS HOUSE. acceptance should have boundaries and violating someone’s personal space isn’t right.

- why did they forget about trixie again? yes, i know that scarlett estevez had another project but this does not justify the bad writing. the girl lost her father and we only see her crying once because of that. no signs of this affecting her everyday life, not showing any consequences of her relationships with other people, not  glimpse of any change in her behaviour. oh and also she loses lucifer too because time travel! great idea, writers! losing another close to her person would have been soooooo good for her psychic for sure.

- i also hate the idea that suddenly rory becomes the only child they care for. where is trixie when they spend their day on the beach? where is she when her mother dies? did writers forget about her as well as they did about michael?

- amenadiel being a police officer is… problematic. i was looking forward to this thread, i was kinda scared too and it turned out… meh. i’m white and not American, so this of course does not involve me at all, but i felt like this was not enough. harris basically said that there is nothing they can do to make it better for black folks. even though chloe and amenadiel want to make everything more just, we don’t actually see any change. the only thing is that harris becomes a detective (right? i’m not sure if i understood it correctly, so correct me if i’m wrong, please) which is a total contradiction of what she said before. suddenly she does not have to protect people anymore?

- in season 5 they stated that heaven and hell need to be fixed, as the system is unfair and unjust. at the end we don’t see any change, the only thing that is different is lucifer helping damned souls. it doesn’t help at all! these people still go to hell, they still suffer and there’s nothing that changed here! plus there is also this thing, that a sociopath who murdered people in cold blood goes to heaven (because he does not feel any guilt) and a person abused by her parents/partner/whoever goes to hell (because have been manipulated to feel guilt).

- dan making amends with trixie while… there wasn’t really anything to make amends about. like, most of the parents make mistakes while upbringing their children, but does this make them unworthy of heaven? i would have preferred dan to slowly regain his self-consciousness, how he positively affected the lives of people around him and by doing so – through conversations or maybe reliving some of the memories, he could have proved to himself that he is worthy of love and redemption.

phew, what a ride. i really liked dan being reunited with charlotte (it went just as i imagined) and mazeve dynamics. i even felt like they are finally a real life relationship – with people hurting each other by not understanding each other, but then talking and seeing other’s perspective. generally though, i’m very disappointed.

sorry for any mistakes, lacking commas etc. writing a text this long in not my native language was not easy.

[danniburgh]

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 18

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +3.8k

Chapter warnings: mentions of captivity, kidnapping and death, hints of misogyny, even more feels omg

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode eight. // look guys at this point its all plot lmao, so yeah... also, please, please get ready, next chapter is gonna be almost the double of words and feels so... just a heads up

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

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gif: @bratdjarin ​ 

The time after that call went faster and faster. 

You found yourself running through the embassy hallways along with Feistl to let the ambassador know Javier had Christina Jurado with him, then assuring him she would be safer staying in your house, making sure Feistl backed you up so Crosby wouldn’t be a pain in the ass and asked you if you could handle any strong situations that may concur while she was with you.

Then you went and made some arrangements to get another field agent to be your second as Feistl and Van Ness still had to fix their own shit. By the time you finished running around, Javier was back.

The office was almost empty, spare from Stoddard furiously typing into his computer, from the entrance you could see Javier standing in the middle of his office with his arms crossed on his chest and Christina Jurado sitting in front of him in the loveseat, both in complete silence.

You almost ran through the bullpen when you saw him, crossing the doorframe to his office and throwing yourself at him.

“Fuck, you’re okay,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and fisting his shirt while he let out a soft oof. Javier let himself embrace you back, letting his arms down and around your waist, you shoved your head in the crook of his neck, not caring that he smelled like sweat and smoke and gunpowder and death. 

You didn’t want to ask him what he had to do to bring back Christina, and you were sure he wouldn’t tell you.

Javier let out a heavy sigh when he felt you finally inside his arms again, for a moment he forgot where he was and let himself breathe you in and out, using you yet again as an anchor to the real world.

You broke the embrace and cupped his face, making double sure he was unscratched, making double sure he was whole, making double sure he was good, at least physically.

He didn’t hold your gaze; he was looking behind you and you turned around.

“Christina,” you muttered, she looked up at you quizzically and for some reason that you didn’t want to dive in at the moment, you wanted to hug her.

There she was, a gorgeous, brave woman who had spent days in a place you were sure was worse than hell, with people that didn’t care about her, sitting there in one of the safest places in Colombia, just waiting for her fate to happen.

You couldn’t stop your brain for comparing and making parallels of your life to hers; she was the wife of a narco accountant; she had been living under the radar for a long time and she seemed to hate it, she merely loathed it and everything that had to do with what her husband was doing; and you, unmarried, oddly loved and chasing down the guys that practically paid her bills. You were about the same age and yet your lives had taken deeply different paths. And both of those paths had brought you both there. To a shitty office in an american government facility in a country neither of you had been born in, looking into each other’s eyes, relating to each other on more than one level.

For a moment you let yourself think what would’ve happened if you would’ve been the one that talked to her instead of Javier. It was a horrible thought; it was terrible to think and utterly useless, but maybe, just maybe, some things wouldn’t have happened.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice was deep and quite hoarse, she leaned to rest her hands on her legs and you stepped towards her.

“I’m agent Martín, I’m gonna be with you until your flight tomorrow morning,” you explained to her, and you saw her let out a sigh, as if she was more relieved with you there “I’m gonna take you to my house so you can clean up and get some sleep, if that’s okay with you,” you saw her look at you with precaution and pondered the answer, then she just nodded.

“Is Javier gonna come?” she asked, bewaringly, you looked at her attentively and she glanced at him behind you for less than a second. You knew she had seen what he did to get her out of the place she was in and you understood, with the way she was sitting and staring at everything but him, that she wasn’t really fond of the methods.

“No, he’s not,” you assured her, feeling the deep stare of Javier in your back. Christina deflated slowly and breathed in, as if relieved, you stretched your hand to her. She looked at it and then looked at you for a few seconds, deciding if she would trust you or not, you tried to give her a reassuring smile and she took your hand, standing up, “have you eaten?”

“No,” she looked at the floor as you guided her to the door. You turned to look at Javier and he was frowning at the way you were managing the situation. You didn’t need to read his expression or his body language to know he just felt guilty because he didn’t have the same rapport in him. At least not anymore.

He wanted to ask you what the hell were you thinking to take Christina out of the building, but instead just looked at you, trusting you would at least read in his face how insecure about it he was feeling. You shook your head once and gave him a hard stare. He stiffened, and tightened his jaw, then mimicking you and nodding as well, knowing he had to let you do your part.

“Let’s get you some food as well,” you muttered to Christina, who turned to look at Javier one last time.

“Thank you,”

“Don’t thank me, let’s go, someone is waiting for us downstairs and you have a flight early in the morning,” you said, pulling her softly a bit closer to you, as you both walked out of the office.

The next morning came by. You and Christina were sitting in the backseat of Javier’s suv, him driving and another agent sitting next to him in the co-pilot’s seat. Christina was looking through the window, watching Bogotá waking up with her arm curled around yours.

The drive was quiet but tense, and while you felt Javier’s staring at you through the rearview mirror, you remembered the conversation you had with Christina when you arrived at your place the night before.

“Are you Javier’s girlfriend?” she had asked you, sitting on the couch, waiting for you to finish talking with the other agent that had to spend the night at your door and settle next to her. By the way she had asked you could notice it had no double meaning, she was genuinely curious.

“You… could say that,” you replied, biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling, “we don’t really have a name for… this,” for some reason you didn’t know you found Christina really trustworthy. You reasoned that it was maybe because she was trusting you to take care of her safety until she could be in her own country, so it was the logical thing to trust her back. She sighed at your reply.

“I don’t think you really need a tag, y’know,” she had said, and you nodded. She kept quiet for a moment and then grabbed your hand, her skin was cold and her hands were shaking, “I also fell in love with a dangerous man,” she said, making your breath hitch.

“Christina…”

“Don’t let him do to you what being married to Franklin did to me,” she muttered, almost as in secrecy. You looked at her and wished you could just take away all the shit she had lived in all the time she was captive.

The sentence lingered in your mind and settled itself in that nagging part of your brain that made you overthink things. You didn’t know exactly if she was referring to the inevitability of danger into the jobs her husband and your… Javier had, or maybe something else.

She tightened the grip on your hand, bringing you back to the moment, and for a second she lost herself, staring at everything and nothing at the same time. You wanted to ask her so many things and make sure she was okay. You didn’t find the strength in you to take her out of her trance, knowing maybe that was just her way to cope with… everything. 

“I didn’t know if I was going to get out of there,”

“Christina,” you called her and she looked at you, still absentminded “I’m sorry, I have to ask, did they… do anything to you?” the question took her by surprise and her eyes watered. You could see she was already tired of crying and by that point she was past feeling sad. You watched her take her time to answer with expectation, and she shook her head, provoking your chest to fill with air, contented that at least they had spared her that one horror.

“No, they didn’t, but they wanted to,” she had muttered, making you shiver.

It amazed you how receptive your body was being to what she said. And yet again, you realized that you couldn’t avoid comparing yourself to her.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Christina,” you told her, putting your other hand on top of hers that was gripping you. She looked at you and narrowed her eyes slightly.

“Are you really?” her question caught you off guard more than you would’ve expected, she was asking again, genuinely, still having some barrier that wasn’t thrown for you, and you couldn’t blame her for that. You could see she still was scared of something or someone and you could also see that she was angry, not exactly directly at you, but angry.

“Of course I am, I was supposed to bring you to a safe place when you were… when they took you,” her trembling hands moved awkwardly and she stared at you “after Javi arrested your husband, he told me to go to your house and get you to safety, but when I got there, you called him and told him you saw cops and left,” you remembered the call Javier had given you after that, you still recalled the tone of his voice, desperate and frustrated, similar to the one Franklin Jurado had in one of his calls with Christina. You wondered if that could be taken as a parallel of your relationship, but decided not to go there, wasn’t really useful to keep comparing.

“That’s when he told me to go to the embassy,” Christina muttered and you nodded, her gaze got lost again and once again, you saw something inside her eyes that screamed and shouted even though she was sitting in front of you in almost utter silence. She was angry, so, so angry. And you couldn’t blame her for that either.

“I was actually waiting for you,” you told her, she sighed and you bit your lip again, “and when you didn’t arrive I just… I’m just really glad you’re safe, you didn’t deserve any of that,”

Christina shook her head a few times and took a deep breath.

“No, I didn’t” her reply confirmed what you were just seeing. You wanted to tell her so many things, you wanted to tell her that she wasn’t alone, that she was going to get through all the shit, that she was going to see her husband and that even though he was in jail, he was protected and she would be able to rebuild her life, no longer in the shadows, you wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay… But you didn’t, because you didn’t know that. “what’s gonna happen to me now?” she asked, and for the first time since you’d been talking, you heard a tremble in her voice, hesitation, insecurity, and it didn’t suit her.

“He’s gonna fly you home, you’re gonna see your husband” you had said, trying to make things at least a little more bearable, but she just let out a huff and turned to you.

“Are you coming?” Christina asked, her eyes set in you. You weren’t sure if you had that kind of power.

“Do you want me to?” 

“Please”

After that you showed her the bathroom, gave her some of your clothes and almost forced her to sleep in your bed. Then, when you were sure she was at least more comfortable than she was when she arrived, you had called Javier to tell him she wanted you in the plane with her.

You arrived at the airport and Christina was escorted by you, Javier, the other agent that had spent the night at your place’s door, and two police officers. You got settled in a private waiting room and Javier made sure the only ones inside it were Christina, you and him.

“I’m really sorry for taking away your clothes,” Christina said, still grabbing your arm, you were watching Javier looking through the window of the room and turned to her, shaking your head.

“Don’t be, they look better on you,” you reassured her, feeling quite better with yourself for having her smiling at you, a female voice talks through the speakers and Javier turns to you, he captures back your attention and you give him a small smile.

“In less than an hour, we’re on that plane,” he says to Christina and walks to sit behind the two of you “your husband knows, he’ll be waiting for ya,”

Christina said nothing, she just squeezed your hand and you for once tried to be silent, not wanting to meddle in whatever they had, as the mood inside the room had changed and apparently you were the only one that could feel and almost see the palpable tension they had with each other.

“It’s all behind you now, Christina,” Javier muttered, you turned to see him with narrowed eyes and a quirk in your face that asked him if he really just said that.

“And you think I should thank you for that?” Christina rhetored bitterly at him, not even bothering to look at him, you turned to see her and realized who her anger was directed to. And you… understood.

“No, no I don’t” Javier deepened his voice at her.

“No, you think you’re a hero because you, what, executed a bunch of farmers to get me out so that my husband would testify for you?” Christina’s hand gripped yours harder and you tried to keep your calm. You could feel Javier’s gaze glued to your face and you didn’t turn to see him. Not ready to see in his face what you thought you had heard in his voice.

“I did what I had to do and I’m sorry for what happened to you,” your head snapped almost involuntarily at him, your eyes wide and your mouth parted in surprise. He tried to remain serious but he knew you almost completely and you knew him as well. You saw in his face that he really didn’t mean it, you saw in his face that he was only saying it because his ego was hurt. And you noticed in the way he was avoiding your eyes that he knew you already knew. Un fucking believable.

“No,” Christina looked at him and made a quirk that told you she really didn’t believe him, and you couldn’t help but notice the difference at the gesture her face made the night before, when you told her the same thing. You bit your lip to avoid popping out and ask her why she did believe you but didn’t believe him, but you were pretty sure you already knew why. “no you’re not, and you know it,” your gaze stayed in Javier’s face, in his thumb brushing his lower lip, in how his eyes looked at everything but you or her or himself, on how he had stretched his legs to the sides and left his hand hanging, and you saw it, one of his many faces but not the one you were expecting to see, not the one you wanted to see. The agent face. The police enforcement mask, one that showed, maybe even unconsciously, that he only cared about the operative, about the mission, about the main goal. Not about the woman that had lived through hell and he had pulled her out of there himself “you’re a piece of shit.”

Christina turned to the front, still holding your hand and your eyes were trying to get Javier to look at you.

Javier knew himself, he couldn’t bear to look at you because he knew you already had a pretty clear idea of what was going through his head and he was embarrassed. Because he knew you cared, he knew you cared deeply and he felt guilty that he didn’t care as much as you did, he felt embarrassed at the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to, he really did, but he was just so damn tired.

Exhausted didn’t convey exactly how he felt, he didn't even know if there was a word that could fully express how he was feeling sitting there in the middle of an almost empty waiting room in an airport waiting to take a woman he had promised himself to take care of to convince her husband to risk his life and betray his employers.

Javier thought Christina was right, he was a piece of shit. A piece of shit that didn't deserve to look at your beautiful, ever understanding eyes.

Javier didn’t look at you, and you didn’t like the way he was acting. And for a brief moment you saw a flash of something running through his face. It was anger but wasn’t, it was sadness but not quite, it looked like pride. Was his… ego, hurt?

The time to board the flight came and you felt Christina relax besides you. The whole convoy of police enforcement was escorting Christina to the gate when Javier’s phone rang.

“Yeah,” Javier answered the call and you turned to look at him next to you, “yeah, we’re about to get on the plane, we’ll be in Miam–” he was suddenly cut off, he stopped walking and you did too, Christina saw you and turned to see what was going on “when?” he asked into the phone and a shiver went down your spine, the woman beside you felt your body stiffen as Javier finally looked into your eyes and with one single glance told you everything, “let me call you back.”

“What happened?” Christina asked, trembling next to you, as if she already knew the answer.

“He’s dead” you murmured, still looking into Javier’s eyes. You felt a heavy pull next to you and suddenly a pair of officers were next to you. Christina was collapsing on the floor.

Javier’s eyes fell to Christina as yours filled with unwanted tears. Why were you crying? you quickly tried to analyze what you were feeling and learned that it wasn’t really because of the case, the case and the trial and the testimony was all shit anyway, you knew it, but he didn’t.

It was because your mind was playing with the parallels. You related to Christina even if she didn’t relate to you, and now she lost her husband, while Javier was standing in front of you feeling guilty for all the pain he thought he had caused. You could see the irony, then the question was if you were about to lose Javier as well.

“She needs to go to Miami anyway,” Javier said to you a few moments later. You nodded. His eyes were in yours and he stole a handgrip from you “let’s go,” he said, aiming to walk away from the gate, you frowned at him, giving him a look that asked him if he was out of his mind. He felt a tug in his chest, knowing already you would fight his plea.

“Don’t leave,” Christina was being helped to stand and she grabbed your other hand, making Javier drop the one he had taken, you could see the hesitancy in his face.

“She’s gonna be escorted all the way back to Miami,” Javier’s tone was dubious, the way you were looking at him made him doubt himself for the briefest of moments.

“I’m gonna go with her and make sure she gets to safety” you said. Javier sighed at your willful tone of voice.

“Florencia,” he called and you tightened your jaw, you knew he knew better than to try and contradict you right there and then.

“I’m going,” your voice softened slightly and you turned to Christina “can you go ahead and board? I’ll be right behind you,” you reassured her, she nodded slowly and one of your partners helped her get to the gate, you turned back to look at Javier, noticing how much he was struggling to come up with something to say. “whatever that was, back in the waiting room, I need space from that,” you blinked your unshed tears away and he just nodded back at you, knowing exactly what you were talking about and understanding, begrudgingly, why you wanted to be away from him for a while “I’ll be back tonight and maybe we can talk,”

“I don't thin–”

“Javier,” you cut him off, shaking your head softly to stop him “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Your hand reached to his wrist and you gripped it as strongly as you could for a few seconds, his eyes seemed a bit lost and even though you knew he was having a thousand and one reasons to not let you go, to keep you in Bogotá with him, to need you with him, you had one strong reason to get away from him at least for a day.

One that made you feel hypocritical and traitorous; if he reacted with little empathy and pride to what Christina had told him, how the fuck would he react when you told him the truth?

So you let go of him, gave him a last stare and turned around to walk to the gate, board the plane and take Christina home. For the first time, while flying through the Gulf of Mexico, you had plenty of time to think about all the mess that you had gotten into. And your mind came to one conclusion: there was no way on earth that Javier would forgive you for what you were doing to him.

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[honesthammie]

From my prompt list:

4) After reaching your 16th birthday you gain the ability to see everyone's red strings of fate and on your 18th you finally get to see yours, except yours dissappears into the ground/sky.

Fandom:Doctor who

Pairing: 13 x gender neutral reader

This is my first fic on tumblr. I know its hella long and not all of my fics will be like this. This came to me from a dream I had recently. I love Jodie and I decided to write the spider episode from a different perspective. I may have change the episode slightly to fit the reader. I am thinking of doing a part 2 but it may be a while before I do as I have deadlines and stuff to keep up with. The next part may be more fluff between 13 and yourself. I know this didn't have much but it's something. I'm also sorry to any Americans reading this, I love yas but its just the personality I put to go with the readers personality. I'm also sorry for any spelling mistakes as I'm doing this on my phone.

Summary: spider episode with a small change I'm plot to accommodate your beautiful self in this fic

Warnings: slight description of a couple of panic/anxiety attacks, swearing and a bit of angst. Long intro for small fluff. And it's a part 1 do I guess a small cliffhanger is a warning?

Beep beep beep. Your alarm starts blaring in your ears, waking you up with a start. You glare at the interrupting machine before turning it off. After such a crazy night, you did not want your sleep so rudely interrupted. Why did you have a crazy night? It's your 18th birthday today and your friends decided to visit your place for a little house party, last night, to celebrate and now you have a pounding headache.

You groaned as you realised, you would need to take some pain meds before you even think about going back to sleep. Slipping out of your bed, you walk to the bathroom and find the cupboard with all sorts of medicinal and bathroom bits and bobs. You then grab the glass that you placed there in preparation for the definite hangover. The glass was a little cold to the touch but you filled it with some cool water from the sinks tap.

You took two, just so you could have a longer sleep. You waddle back into your bedroom and just as you get comfy, you widen your eyes at the memory. You needed to see your mother today, she said she had a gift for you but she would only be at home until 11. You looked at the machine that you hated for the time. It was currently 10:05. You jumped to your feet and rush to get ready.

As you walked outside, you saw the regular red strings that you saw everyday. Why do you see strings? You honestly didn't know, but you knew their purpose, it helped match 2 soulmates together. But something seemed a little off, there was no one on the street anymore, so why could you still see one line of destiny? You decided to follow the string south, down to your own (s/c) hand which was now slightly shaking at the sight.

"Fuck. Fuck,fucky fucking fuck. Why now? Why me? What the shit is going on with me?" You curse to yourself. You could feel your breath getting rapid and your head started spinning slightly. You quickly unlocked your car and sat down to help calm you down. You took a few deep breaths and focused on your senses.

When you eventually calmed down, you decided to look at where the string led. Oh, how you shouldn't have looked. It didn't go in any way of a compass, it went straight up and past the clouds. How? You had so many questions but you had to focus on the day ahead.

You had been to your mothers house and collected your new (fave game series) and your card. You were incredibly thankful as you have been saving up to buy it for yourself one day. You had played the previous games and loved every one of them and to say you were excited was an understatement. You almost ran back into your place if it wasn't for needing the key to access the gates.

Living in a gated community helped you feel a lot safer but it did also make you a big target for thieves to practise picking locks. No one had figured out where the hidden camera that kept alerting the authorities was though. Even you have tried put of plain curiosity but you got stumped after the 10th day of searching. You were sure you looked in every possible hiding spot, yet the camera always seemed to evade you in the pointless game of hide and seek.

As you unlocked the gate, you felt a twitch on your finger. The string was moving down and at a very fast pace, almost falling speed. You looked up and saw a small black dot heading towards the ground, if thats your soulmate, they would certainly be dead the second they meet their fate. When you could no longer see the dot, you kept your eyes glued to the string, waiting for it to disappear like everyone else's did when a soulmate died.

After five minutes, the string was still there and was still as red as ever, like no harm had come to them. But thats not possible. No creature could survive that especially from that great a height! You were beyond curious and quickly went into your living room and searched on all your social media for anyone else that may have spotted the dot in the sky, yet no one had but you knew (b/f) had another massive fight with their roommate, Stella, over whose turn it was to do the dishes again.

If you didn't know that Stella was in a relationship with another, you would have sworn those two were in a relationship. You giggled at the silly thought, "if Stella ever goes through a break up with her, I'm totally gonna set those two up."

You give up on finding anything out today, maybe it'll be on the news tomorrow and you set off to go on an online shopping spree, you had a few codes and now, thanks to your wonderful mother, had a little cash to spare and you did see that gorgeous top on sale. Once you had spent the day either shopping or gaming you decided to head to bed but you couldn't stop thinking about that dot and what the red string meant for you.

When your alarm had went off, you hit it and got dressed for your new job at some hot shot posh hotel run by an aspiring American with High expectations and little experience with Sheffield. You had been told you wouldn't get to meet him much and you were beyond fine with that, you hated Americans, simply because you hated violence and guns were the big no on your weaponry list of avoidance. You didn't mind weapons in video games, those were harmless to the outside world. You didn't mind verbal violence though, it was all you had to defend yourself with and in Sheffield, that was better than nothing. You were very short tempered when it came to your anger but you found that it was either verbal or physical, you chose to be verbal.

You looked at your phone for any messages from (b/f) and had a good luck message. You replied with a smiley face and a "ill need all the luck I can get. I've heard from a few employees that he can be a real asshole for no reason and fires people just because they made eye contact for too long. It's like he suspects someone is out for his blood."

After 2 minutes you received a reply from from them. "You better be on your best behaviour then, young lady!"

"That's the problem. I wonder what the record is for the quickest a person has got fired? Because I may break that, you know me! I don't exactly do as I'm told, that's why finding a job has been so hard. Anyway, I best get ready, gotta look the part! First impressions and all!" You replied with a nervous face. What you failed to notice was the red string no longer pointing towards the sky and you were making it shorter with every step you took. You did give up on finding out about the strange dot and came to the assumption that it fell in a lake, there were plenty of them around.

You walked into the swanky looking hotel and noticed the cobwebs that definitely were not there two days ago when you had your interview, yet they looked like they had been there for weeks. You would have put it down to Halloween decorations if it wasn't for the fact that it was June. You decided to not ask in case this was some sort of strange new American trend that your boss was following to help bring in the youth. It does help make it fit into Sheffield a lot more with the run down and abandoned look. It would need some rust, water damage, mold and cracks to finish the look but it was a start. If you had to be honest, the spider webs helped bring the place together. It was way too posh for Sheffield but you had to lie and say you love it in order to get hired. Just from that lie alone you knew exactly the personality of your boss, arrogant, vain and ignorant.

"Hello, you must be my new helper! I'm Najia, your second in command here. As you can see, there are loads of spider webs so they should be priority. If you could start cleaning in the south west second floor and continue that floor, that would be amazing. Now here's your cleaning trolley and if you happen to finish the floor early, send me a little message through the walkie talkie and I'll give you another room or floor. Do you have any questions?" Najia spoke softly. She seemed lovely and it was shame that she had to be in a place that would get more damage than its worth.

"Just one question: why so many spider webs?"

"I don't know, they just seemed to have appeared, I thought it was silly string from some teenagers that managed to break in somehow but it is actual spider web. It wasn't here when I left last night. I guess I'll have to ask someone about that."

And with that you separated and got to your floor when you finally noticed a slight burning sensation on your finger, it wasn't hurtful. It was like putting the finger in a really hot bath. You looked down and noticed it now pointed downhill and seemed to be glowing a shade of gold ever so gently that you would miss it if the weird sensation didn't make you look.

You left your trolley outside a toilet to make it seem like you were in there when really you had wondered off to follow the string. You would probably lose yourself in the maze of hallways that all looked the same as the last if the string didn't help lead you to a ballroom. You opened the door and instantly screamed. A giant spider was walking towards you, however you couldn't get out, you had used a staff door which needed a key card to use from this side as the other side still needed to be fitted and you left yours in the trolley, near the toilets. And the massive spider seemed to be blocking the other way out so you were trapped.

You weren't scared of spiders but seeing them at the size of a van did intimidate you. You started shaking from fear of what it would do to you. Out of pure instinct, you put your hand out to protect yourself and the sound of 8 legs against wooden flooring had ceased. The only sound was your laboured breathing. It stayed like this for what seemed like hours but in actuality was only 5 minutes. You opened your eyes slowly to see 8 more stare right back. 8 eyes that showed fear but no intention of harm. Instead the spider gave you space to breathe by walking back a few feet. Then it seemed to be watching you, studying your next move to see if you were a threat and whether or not it should kill you.

You stayed still for a moment, wrapping your head around what had just happened before gently walking towards the creature with both hands forward to show them clean of weapons. You decided to try and speak to the spider to see if it can understand you.

"Hello. I'm new around here, I'm sorry if I'm trespassing on your area, I wasn't aware of you being here to be honest. I mean you no harm, if anything, I want to help you but unfortunately, I'm stuck in here aswell." You spoke carefully as if it was a child that was afraid. You gently put your hand in its head and it seemed to understand your good intentions and your situation as it let you pet it. Now you were close, you started to admire it and realised it wasn't poisonous or venomous, it was just a regular house spider. But you couldn't figure out how or why it got this big but it did explain the cobwebs everywhere.

You had been with the spider for hours and it seemed like Najia either didn't care or has gotten fired as she hasn't asked about you. You had spent the time talking or singing to the spider. She, as you found out after looking it up, seemed to put her body around you to protect you. You had even met a couple of her children as they gave you food from the cafeteria to nibble on when your stomach growled.

Eventually the burning on your fingers turned up massively and was causing you pain. The spider seemed to sense this and wrapped her web around your finger to help cool it down a little. It didn't help but you showed gratitude anyway as she was only trying to help in anyway she could. You gave her a small smile and her eyes seemed to show sympathy in return.

Then the doors opened again and the sound of several feet walked in. "Oh thank god. I thought I was never going to be found in here." You thought to yourself as you heard the voices mumble to each other and probably about Betty and what's the best way to get rid of her. You would have paid more attention if your finger didn't feel like it had caught fire and was tight as if your soulmate was amongst those that had walked in.

Now you were nervous. How would you introduce yourself? What did they look like? Were they male or female, not that you really cared? So many questions made you feel lightheaded so you grabbed onto Betty to keep yourself planted.

Then the door opened again and a familiar voice echoed in the hall and you knew exactly how he'd want to deal with Betty and after your bond today, you would rather die than her. She was obviously innocent here and maybe the others could see it. Then you heard the familiar click of a gun safety being taken off and your body reacted before your mind did and you jumped in front of her to stop him, although you had a feeling it wouldn't, but it was worth a shot for the others to stop him.

"Don't you fucking dare shoot that gun Dickhead! Not without going through me!" You spoke with fire in your eyes and maybe a slight mix if fear aswell. That's when you looked over at the new group of people. They all seemed trustworthy enough.

There was Najia, who welcomed you here earlier and she looked sad, so she had definitely been fired. Then there was another woman who looked a lot like her, you guessed she was a daughter or something and she was pretty and definitely somone with authority with the way she stood and held herself, maybe she is a police officer? A man who looked as though he was in his 50s and definitely did not belong in this weird group. A young man who looked of a similar age to the police woman, maybe they are friends.

Then you laid your eyes on one of the most beautiful woman, no, human, you had ever seen and would probably never see again. She had short blonde hair in a bob. They seemed to be brunette at the root. She had beautiful chocolate honey eyes that glimmers with so much emotion and age well beyond her years, like she had experienced thousands of years before this moment. You also noticed her odd sense of style but you admired her boldness and it did look amazing on her. You decided she could only be described as sunshine and rainbows.

Then you noticed her hand And a familiar red string that was also glowing a beautiful subtle gold. Like millions of tiny golden stars circled around the string in a beautiful dance of love. Your eyes started to follow the string down and back to your own. She was your soulmate. That goddess that stood before you, was to be yours forever some day.

Then you looked into her hypnotic eyes before you remembered where you were and what situation you were in. And you realised everyone was staring at you for your previous action towards a spider.

"If you want to keep your job, I'd suggest you move out of the way silly girl!" Your boss grumbled in a threatening tone.

"Nope. You are about to hurt an innocent creature that is stuck and terrified. You built on top of landfill and didn't bother to check and thought of no consequences. This is your fault. Is this how you would treat a child that was a mistake after a one night stand or something? Would you shoot a child that had no choice?" You spoke with confidence yet more nerves now she was there listening to every word. When he didn't answer you shouted "Answer me! Would you shoot your mistake of a child?"

He glared at you. "This is different. This is an animal. A pest. It needs to be killed so more can't be born! I made my mistake and now I'm fixing it!" He bellowed just seconds before a shot was made from his gun. You had expected pain but instead you heard a horrible shriek from behind you.

You quickly turned around and petted her whilst whispering sweet words as she took her last breath. You stood up and made your way over to the murderer. You couldn't stand him and you were so tempted to take his gun and shoot him with it, but you didn't. With fire in your eyes and pure hatred, you slapped him hard enough to leave a mark and maybe a bruise as a reminder of his shitty choices. "You can't fire me because I fucking quit you arrogant dick! She had caused no harm to you or I and I'm sure if you would have sorted it sooner, so many more lives could have been saved as she only had humans because flies didn't fill her anymore! She was so kind and just so afraid. I hope you lose everything you pathetic sad sack of boiled shit! You are truest one of the lowest excuses for a human I have ever met and if we meet again please be very afraid, because next time, it won't just be a slap you have to worry about! It'll be your balls as I cut them off beacuse men like you shouldn't repopulate the planet! You horrid scum! I hope your empire fucking collapses!" You spoke with venom lacing every word. You were seething and boy did his face look punchable. Instead you walked away with your middle finger proudly being the last thing he sees as you walk out the normal doors.

Once you were outside, you sat in the steps and finally let out all the emotions. You cried so hard, over your loss of yet another job and a newly found friend. You screamed at him with a string of curses that would offend just about anybody. You suddenly felt somone sit at the side of you. You knew who it was when the string was burning more than ever before and yet you couldn't feel it over the pain your heart.

"You did brilliant back there. You chose, not just your job, but your life over a creature you barely even knew! If you wouldn't have jumped in when you did, I don't think her children would've had a chance to escape to my TARDIS because he's going on a hunt right now for the rest of them. Sure, you didn't save her but you saved so many more lives than you think. And I know each one is eternally grateful for what you did. I know I would be." Her words were certain and sympathetic. They seemed to calm you down instantly. Or maybe is was the way she talked that helped with her soft but strong voice and you knew you already couldn't get enough like it was the best drug ever. You could listen to her all day and yet, she had said very little to you. It was a strange effect but you liked it.

She fell into a silence for a while just keeping you company as you came to terms with had happened.

[sweetsubharry]

hey ! sorry to bother you but could you reccomend me some fics of footballer louis?? thank you !! love your acc

Hiya!!  💖you can never bother me!! ^-^ ohmgosh I’m so glad you like my blog! I love footballer louis djskasdhjag tysm(sorry it took soooo long!)

please make sure you read the tags and stay safe everyone!💖

Also these are not in any particular order, however I will say the first two are probably my favourites ;) I have to read them again right after this!

freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this by rosesau

Harry (not so) secretly crushes on the cute footie player and fills pages with sketches of him.

Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow by 1Diamondinthesun

Harry spends most of his time in an empty house or a lonely darkroom, dreaming of leaving his small town for art school. He's invisible to most people. And then Louis Tomlinson sees him. Life will never be the same.

Or, the American high school AU loosely inspired by She's All That.

Definition of Beauty by zanni_scaramouche

“Your book is upside down.” Harry nods at Louis’ book, his history text now that he sees it too.

“I’d rather study you.”

They both blink, startled by the slip.

“With you. Study with you,” Louis rushes to say. “Liam says I’m shite at history, can you help?”

Louis’ caught off guard by an omega he nearly takes out with an errant footie ball. It’s not that Louis’ never seen Harry before, it’s that he can’t stop looking, and he’s desperate to figure him out.

Coffee Cups and Football Boots by kimtaedumb

Harry’s stood behind the counter again, but this time he’s painting his nails. Louis strolls up to the counter and, thanks to his no brain-to-mouth filter, blurts out, “Isn’t that a little girlish, Haz?” leaning closer to inspect.

Harry lets out a little huff as his hand slips, “Oh, damn, now I’ve messed it up,” he pouts and turns to Louis, “Why should making myself feel pretty be girly?”

Louis holds up his hands in surrender, “’M not judging, jus’ curious is all.”

(The entirely cheesy and cliché Christmas AU, in which Harry doesn’t give a damn what people think about him – mostly – and Louis may be a little bit in love.

Alternatively, the one in which Harry owns a café that’s barely scraping by and Louis is a footballer and he takes Harry away for Christmas.

Featuring Zayn as a cocky little shit that most definitely needs to be put back in his place, Niall as the loveable Irish dude who drinks too much and flirts with Zayn more than the average girl, and Liam who loves everyone but hates them all at the same time.)

Way in the World by flowsque

When Louis Tomlinson enters the waiting room, Harry can distinctly feel his heart sinking to his stomach. The man's hair is ruffled and dishevelled and his red jersey, damp with sweat from training, clings to his perfect and chiseled body. He stands there, almost unreal, against the glass door, peering inside the office. Harry knew this would’ve happened, sooner or later. That he would have bumped into him. They play for the same club after all, even if they’re in different leagues. It’s not weird. It is not. Except it totally is. - Or, the one where Harry has a knee injury and an embarrassing crush on Manchester United's pretty number ten.

I Long For You by AnotherAnonymousWriter

Thirty minutes later, he's sat on a bench in Hyde Park with a book in his lap and a travel mug with hot tea in his hand. Not far from where he's sat, a group of boys are playing football and a bunch of children are chasing each other. Life is good.

Or at least, life is good until he hears a familiar “LOOK OUT!” and sees a football flying in the direction of his face.

And then everything is black.

(Harry gets hit in the head by various objects and falls for a boy with blue eyes.)

ease the quiet and talk me down by cabinbythesea

Harry's a model and Louis' a footie player.

(Louis teaches Harry some football and Harry is insanely good at giving a lapdance).

Baby, It's You by Bearandleonardwrite

"Oh, yeah. Um..” Harry lets his hands fall to his sides. His brows furrow, face full of concern, and he asks, “You’re not, like, stalking me, are you?”

Louis can’t help the loud cackle that escapes his lips and immediately slaps one of his hands over his mouth to muffle the sound. “Oh my god, Harry, no!” Louis tells him, a little breathlessly, giggles still bubbling out of his chest. “Lottie’s one of the makeup artists here today and she somehow got me to agree to come. I had no idea you modeled for, uh.. this brand until I saw you walk.”

“Oh,” Harry says dumbly, eyebrows still pinched. He lets what Louis just said sink in before a bright grin takes over his face and he goes back to doing up the buttons on his shirt. “Well, that’s alright, then. I’m glad you could make it.

(Basically, Louis' a footie player for Man U and Harry's a YSL model. They meet at a masquerade.)

Touch by kotabear24

Harry's shy and virginal with a past, new on the football team; Louis' the (experienced) popular star of the team and Harry's new mentor.

Come In and Change My Life by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes)

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment. He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped. He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was. Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

see the truth (it's me for you) by orphan_account

If you asked Louis the first day of his French Literature class what he’d be doing on the last, he’d probably never have guessed it would involve helping a poorly Harry Styles study for the final exam. Good thing he’s not a betting man.

(Or the one where Louis and Harry spend an entire semester ignoring each other after a one-night stand, only to come face to face when Harry manages to catch the stomach flu during finals week. Sometimes fate is funny like that.)

Use Your Words by zedi

based off this prompt: collage au where jock!harry always serenades flowercrown!louis with love songs in their music class. what nobody knows is that harry actually kinda means the words he sings.

But instead it's Louis as the jock and Harry as the flowerchild because I do what I want.

Stop The World (I Wanna Get Off With You) by ilikepianos

"You like this, don't you?", he asks breathlessly.

What? Sucking cock? Being dominated? Yes, all of that. A big fat yes.

Harry nods, lips still wrapped around Louis' throbbing dick.

Louis' lips curl into a smirk. "Keep going then. You're doing amazing, love."

OR: The uni-football AU where Harry may or may not have a minor crush on the captain of the team and suddenly discovers that the feeling is very much mutual.

Picture Perfect by LittleBubbleStyles

an AU where Louis Tomlinson is a misunderstood football player, and Harry Styles is a misunderstood photographer. Somehow, they're understood together.

I just think about my baby; I'm so full of love I could barely eat by mercutionotromeo

Harry and Louis are six hundred miles apart, but they have the same solutions to the same problem.

Or: a masturbation drabble featuring pillow humping, locker rooms, and copious amounts of dirty talk.

into another (another) serotonin overflow by mercutionotromeo

Harry wants this year to be different - wants it to be the year that he finally gets over this stupid crush. He’s going to uni, he needs to decide what he wants to do with his life.

Instead, he’s deciding what he wants to do to Louis Tomlinson.

Or: Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey.

note: it says it in the tag but this is the edited version written in 2019, rather than the 2017 original- so there’s two put I put the link for the newest one :)

need a little sweetness in my life by mercutionotromeo

Harry's always liked feeling desperate and small when Louis touches him, but when he sucks Harry off...it’s fucking otherworldly. Desperate’s not really the word at that point - it’s helpless. Like… like the fucking world could stop spinning and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until Louis finished him off with his lips and his tongue.

Or, Harry and Louis go to university together. Harry really likes it when Louis sucks him off, and Louis really likes it when Harry calls him Daddy.

(Sequel to "into another serotonin overflow")

I made a map of your stars by brightbluelou

Harry does not have a crush on Louis Tomlinson. Yes, Louis is very pretty and funny, and Harry may have had more than a few inappropriate thoughts about him, but he certainly doesn’t like him. (Except for the fact that he totally does.) or, Harry is the shy boy in the back of the class that no one really notices. Louis is the loud, outgoing football player that everybody likes.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

[or, Louis is a footballer, Harry owns a bakery, and they're having a baby.]

Kiss Me on the Mouth and Set Me Free by ls2k14   

Louis has his head thrown back in a laugh, his wet fringe hanging in front of his eyes, and a beautiful flush to his cheeks. From this angle, the sun hits his face just right to where the beams of light are shining in between the spaces of each individual clump of watered down eyelashes. His chest is showing through the soaked material of his white jersey and it seems that his biceps are attempting to break free from the sleeves that are clinging to his skin.

And Harry can do nothing except take it all in. He doesn’t even think he’s breathing at this point. He is literally stuck in place, admiring the true beauty of Louis Tomlinson, while being surrounded by fit footballers and generally attractive people. He doesn’t think he’s ever been in love before, but if Louis let him, he’s pretty damn sure he could change that in the matter of a few nanoseconds.

[beckydoesthings]

various fics of hxl that i adore reading! this list is quite lengthy, but feel free to message me if you have any questions!

*will continue to be updated. also, if i mistagged you, i apologize, i do not know how to tumblr*

Love Is a Rebellious Bird

E | 134k | @100percentsassy and gloria_andrews

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

i think this tickled every bone of my musical self and also made me cry (are you seeing a theme here??) one of the first fics i fell in love with and one i keep coming back to.

Collision

E | 226k | @tequiladimples

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

the world building in this one is insanity - so much good mythology mixed in and it made me screech with joy. i think i can firmly say that i did not expect where the plot went, but that made the story so much better.

Flour and Chocolate

M | 145k | @danosphere91

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

OR

Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

the miscommunication in this fic is SO REAL and makes for a good read. the rest of the flour and chocolate series is also fantastic. i thoroughly enjoyed both the ziam and ed/niall arcs that bring the whole story together.

run away home

E | 106k | @hattalove

Louis stands, in the middle of a clearing with his hands in his pockets, and stares. This boy—God, this gorgeous, gorgeous boy. He seems so clumsy, confused at the best of times, but there’s a wisdom about him as he speaks, a maturity that belies his age.

Louis is hopelessly, wildly attracted to him.

or, louis is a successful jockey down on his luck, struggling to get his life back on track after an injury. harry has a horse, a house fit for a prince, and a broken heart.

it takes them a while to figure out that they need each other.

this makes my inner horse girl extraordinarily happy - even if i don’t know anything about horse racing. louis’ story in this is beautiful and makes the whole piece worth a read.

waiting for the tides to meet

E | 60k | @nauticalleeds

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

gorgeous soulmate AU that gives me summer cruising vibes. worth the read for the lettuce scene alone (i kid, i kid)

Do Not Go Gentle

E | 70k | @afirethatcannotdie

“This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.”

For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust.

Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back.

“Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters.

When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.

A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

okay i’ve watched maybe 3 episodes of Gray’s Anatomy, but i feel like this encompasses the vibe of the show: medical stuff with a hefty dose of angst and sexual tension

Falling For Me Won’t Be A Mistake

M | 58k | @all-these-larrythings

Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

one of my favorite mpreg fics so if that’s not your cup of tea, then don’t read it. i love surgeon harry with a vengeance, but honestly Gems and Niall are iconic in this one.

Watching the World Fall

E | 11k | @crazyupsetter why won’t it let me tag :(

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

i have a soft spot the size of Antarctica for Late Late AU fics (we stan James Corden) and for exes to lovers so this checks all the boxes.

autumn leaves

E | 27k | @suspendrs

“Brave?” Harry frowns, caught off guard. “No, not particularly.”

“You seem brave,” Louis decides, pushing off the wall and stepping on the butt of his cigarette. “You are strong, and you are not mean. That’s good,” he assures, touching Harry’s arm gently.

“Thank you, but that’s not true,” Harry smiles ruefully. “I’m really not anything special.”

Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

love love french AUs and while this one isn’t sunshine and rainbows, it’s a beautiful yet heart wrenching piece. warning for period typical homophobia

caught up in your love affair

NR | 8k | @disgruntledkittenface

“And the corgis took to you straightaway,” Harry remarks.

“That’s true,” Louis chuckles.

 “I’ve spent the last 29 years being barked at,” Harry deadpans, jerking his hand toward Louis, “this one walks in, absolutely nothing.”

Louis outright giggles at that, saying, “They were just lying on my feet during tea.”

“Wagging tails,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“It’s because they don’t understand flirting,” Louis tells him, “you can’t charm them the way you do everyone else.”

Royal AU. Prince Harry announces his engagement to Louis Tomlinson in an interview with longtime friend and BBC host Nick Grimshaw. Inspired by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle.

just. 8k of royal fluff. that’s literally it and i adore it so much.

Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You)

M | 54k | @rainbowsandgucci

”Due to unforeseen circumstances, help is needed here at the orchard for the impending apple season. Looking for someone able to start within the next week or two at the most, is willing to do whatever miscellaneous tasks are needed, such as picking & packing apples, running the cash register, and other handywork that may need to be done. Must be good with customers, and able to lift up to 50lbs. Help will be needed until at the least the end of October. Please contact the number found on this page, or come out to the orchard and ask for Harry. All the love xx” --- Louis is staying at his Aunt's farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles. Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry's friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn. He also starts to fall in love with Harry. Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

i never thought i would enjoy an apple orchard fic?? but it’s so good?? farmer harry makes me laugh to think about, but the heartbreak in this fic is so. real.

Mine Would Be You

E | 114k | @crinkle-eyed-boo

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

exes to lovers drama but make it extra sad. the fact that we see so many facets to this story just makes it all the more painful, yet beautiful. this fic also reminds me of how much i love one mister niall horan.

One for Luck

E | 96k | @leavingonatrain

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles' deep, deep voice, he's just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he's officially back on Great Britain's Olympic team. He's also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there's a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life's grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

again, i know nothing about horses, but i like to pretend i do for the sake of this fic. it’s beautiful, it’s smutty what else could you ask for?

Nothing But You On My Mind

E | 83k | @absoloutenonsense

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

i absolutely. definitely. sobbed tears at this fic. it’s just so beautifully painful to read. don’t want to spoil anything, but this is a must.

Adore You

M | 67k | @isthatyoularry

“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer.

Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

i strongly relate to harry in this one! one of my favorite historical AUs and honestly i love the thought of louis in well fitting suits.

leave it to the breeze

E | 81k | @hattalove

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

i. love. the. great british baking show. baking + h&l is amazing. and another reminder as to why niall is the absolute best.

Paint The Sky With Stars

M | 62k | @icanhazzalou grrr let me tag

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom.

Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform.

By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help.

Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

gorgeous historical fic that’s so accurate and painstakingly written. i keep coming back to it!

When It’s Late At Night

M | 25k | @all-these-larrythings

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

Or

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

remember when i said i love Late Late AUs? yeah. i love that louis gives absolutely zero shits in this fic until he gives all the shits.

Chasing Empty Spaces

E | 79k | @domestic-harry

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

gorgeous historical AU that goes through Harry’s struggle with his sexuality wonderfully. this one also made me cry.

Resist Everything Except Temptation

E | 100k | @domestic-harry

The lethargic sound of heels clicking against wood resonated across the sea. Footsteps descended the staircase, every assured step creating a menacing aura as it grew closer. Perspiration gathered along Louis’ palms as the rhythmic sound halted in front of him.

“Captain,” Malik greeted.

Louis watched out of his peripheral as Malik’s boots shuffled back a few steps. Sweat matted the hair along the nape of Louis’ neck as he waited for something to happen. He felt as if a sharp blade was twisting his gut as the silence became tangible. There was a metallic slide of a sword being pulled out of its sheath, the sound startling Louis out of his cocoon of sterile shock. His shoulders jumped as the tip of a blade flattened underneath his jaw. Louis’ distorted reflection stared back at him in the polished metal. Engraved rose petals twisted his appearance as they crawled up the length of the sword. The sword lifted and took Louis’ chin with it.

Standing in front of Louis was Captain Styles.

OR

The one where Louis is the commodore's son who is forced to become a part of Harry's crew when he is captured.

love this pirate AU that’s got one badass gemma styles. also, harry as a super cool pirate in gorgeous clothes makes me super happy!

i’ll make this feel like home

E | 49k

Harry to groans himself and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, well. Here’s the thing. I peed on a stick.”

Louis isn’t able to get more than a shocked “What!” out before Harry’s steamrolling on.

“I peed on a stick and it says it’s positive, but you always prattle on about how it’s best to go to the doctor’s before you get excited, you know to confirm it because sometimes hormones are off or you have like a tumor or some shit and get false positives and what if I’m dying and-”

“You’re pregnant?!” Louis shouts out, stomach dropping as the words leave his mouth.

“Um, yeah… maybe.”

[the one where Louis' hopelessly in love with his best mate... who just happens to be pregnant with another man's baby.]

baby momma harry with hot mess!Louis is a recipe for disaster, but this one has plenty of fluff to make up for it.

Hands Clasped Tight

E | 44k | @afirethatcannotdie

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

love love teacher harry and louis that’s mostly funny fluff with a little angst. just a teeny amount. reminds me of my own experiences with meddling students haha.

*updated 2/16/21*

[skrltwtch]

Silverware

Prompt: on a first date and A is a werewolf and doesn’t know the cutlery is silver (Source in master list)

Word count: 4,897 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, supernatural

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

I buried my nose in the bouquet of lilies and roses Jake had bought for me. It was the perfect emblem of summer with its warm, sunny hues and fresh, tangy scent — and the perfect segue to the next part of our date. The first part was a visit to the local farmers market, out of which we were now walking. Coming here had been his suggestion. It was something different from the usual first date stuff like coffee or a movie, and I liked it a lot, notwithstanding my initial reservations. I liked him a lot after what I’d seen of him at the market. I felt like the place helped bring out a certain spark between us. For one, there was constant talk about planning for date number two using what we’d seen and bought. If that wasn’t promising, I didn’t know what was!

‘Thank you, Jake. I love it,’ I said about the bouquet.

‘You’re most welcome,’ he said, a broad grin brightening up his face. ‘And thank you for the flavoured olive oil. Makes me kind of wish we didn’t have this dinner reservation …’ His grin turned sheepish in nature. ‘But that’s what’s making me look forward to our next date.’

See?

‘Do you want to call for a taxi or walk?’ he said.

‘What time’s our reservation?’

‘6:00 p.m. on the dot.’

My watch came alive with a flick of my wrist. ‘Let’s walk, then. I want to walk off all the cheese I sampled.’ I’d sampled a lot. In my defence, it was almost that time of the month — and that other time of the month. ‘Do you know the way?’

‘Google Maps can teach me.’

The route Google Maps recommended was scenic. London Bridge looked lovely at this time of day. Its appeal was heightened tenfold with Jake by my side. Could you believe we met on Tinder? It still felt unreal to me. Getting this match used up all my good luck for the year, and we were only at the halfway point. Well, if it meant burning the roof of my mouth most of the time I ate to be able to quit the dating scene for a reasonable amount of time (“once and for all” seemed a little ambitious, though that would be nice), who was I to whinge about the hand fate had dealt me?

The restaurant was located within the Four Seasons. We had been overdressed for the market. Now we were … dressed. I was flattered as fuck that he picked such a lavish place for dinner for a first date. I hadn’t the faintest clue what it was about my profile and our conversations that made him think of a high-end French restaurant helmed by a Michelin-starred chef in a five-star hotel. I did try to talk him out of it (gently). It wasn’t about the cost. Food was one of the things I was more than happy to splurge on. It was just … I never had anyone think this highly of me before, and I wondered if that’d change if … and when … he knew the truth about me.

The host led us into the main dining room and to our table. An amuse-bouche and warm bread came together with the menus. The prices were as expected of the type of establishment this was. Everything sounded good, though this was my first time coming across some of these words. Looking up what each one meant would add to the time something would take to reach our table, and my stomach would sooner eat itself out of desperation.

‘Please don’t hold back,’ said Jake, sensing my indecision. ‘The price is not an issue.’

I did have to hold back. The coincidental timing of this month’s full moon and crimson tide amplified every-fucking-thing I could possibly feel to a divinely hellish degree in the days leading up to them. As it was, I could easily polish off a five-course meal by myself. If Jake wanted this date to go in a less chaste direction after dinner, hell would freeze over before I’d even dream of talking him out of it, first date etiquette be damned. Was the fact that he was such a goddamn catch helping anything? Absolutely fucking not.

‘No, it’s not that. I can’t — I can’t decide what I want,’ I said. It was technically true. I was torn between the beef (never mind that it was £98) and veal … and both of them at once. ‘What are you having? Maybe I can get some inspiration from you.’

‘I was thinking the turbot … or the pigeon. Yeah, I can’t make up my mind either. I’m leaning toward the pigeon …? No, the turbot. Or the scallops …? Fuck. I need an adult.’

‘Let’s choose for each other.’

‘Promise not to hate each other’s choices — or each other?’

‘Pinky promise.’

We locked our pinkies together. I hoped touching him would never grow old.

Once our promise had been sanctified and we separated from each other, Jake signalled for the nearest available waitstaff. One came over almost instantly. The restaurant was bustling with activity, a far cry from however long it had been since we arrived. She took our order in a cordial fashion, not making a bigger deal of how we were ordering for each other than it should be. I chose the scallops for him; he chose the veal for me. I convinced him to start our evening with the langoustine; he sweet-talked me into ending it with the rhubarb. The waitstaff validated all our choices with a knowing smile.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask — and I hope I’m not stepping on your toes here,’ Jake started when our table was just the two of us again. ‘How did you get that scar on your arm?’

It was a matter of time. And bless him. I would never be offended by being asked about the memento of what’d changed my life forever. I would be offended by an adverse reaction to how exactly my life had been changed forever. I raised my arm, giving the scar in question its time in the limelight: brownish-pink, leathery circles arranged in the shape of a crescent, the ones at both ends abnormally large and ragged-looking.

‘My ex-boyfriend’s dog bit me,’ I said. More like my ex-boyfriend was the offending canine. ‘That’s not why he’s an ex, in case you were wondering.’ I’d wanted to be turned. He’d been more than happy to lend a helping set of fangs. Sadly, the idea of us being cute werewolves together was yet another one of those things that simply sounded nicer on paper. It wasn’t all sour between us. We’d sometimes meet for romps. It got lonely sometimes, and it wasn’t like there was an online forum for werewolves to socialise or whatever. I doubted he’d have known of one anyway: he was literally an American werewolf in London.

‘Did it hurt? It’s such a huge scar. Did anything happen to the dog afterward?’ He held up his hands. ‘Am I being nosy? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’

I smiled in the hope that it’d soothe his worries. ‘You’re not being nosy. It was … okay for what it was.’ Euphoric. ‘The dog’s fine. It wouldn’t be fair to punish it for an instinct thing.’ Yup.

‘That’s good to hear. I think it’s a bad-ass scar. And I didn’t think it’s why he’s an ex.’

‘Thank you. Most people did. Yeesh. Give me some credit.’

‘I’m not most people … I hope.’ He smirked. The apples of his cheeks turned pink.

He really wasn’t. And I wanted so badly to tell him the truth there and then to see if that’d still hold true in the face of a bombshell like that. I had yet to tell anyone about my lycanthropy: if movies, television shows, books, etc., were anything to go by, I’d assume most people would react with fear or disgust, or both. Chris had been thoroughly flabbergasted when I reacted the way I did to learning why he always turned down my suggestions to go stargazing on nights with full moons. I got what I wanted … eventually.

Maybe I should tell Jake sooner than later. Separate the wheat from the chaff. Then I wouldn’t have wasted my time having pined for someone who thought I was some kind of freak of nature.

That conversation — or rather, thinking about that conversation would have to wait, as our starter, bearing a strong resemblance to a flower arrangement with colours befitting the season, had arrived. Food was always the perfect diversion. So would the inevitable back-and-forth about who could have the third and last langoustine. Splitting it was not an option, for one piece was as big as my thumb. I loved the portion sizes of frou-frou fancy food. So much bang for one’s buck.

‘Bon appétit,’ said Jake. ‘That’s one of … four French phrases I know. The other three are “bonjour”, “omelette du fromage”, and — I can’t say the last one in a public place.’

‘Is it by any chance … “voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir”?’ I made no effort whatsoever to lower my volume — or maintain a straight face. Brazenness blazed through my cheeks.

He put a hand on his chest, feigning surprise. ‘Well!’ He tittered. ‘Since you asked ever so nicely, and in French … This is why your choices tonight have been shellfish, isn’t it?’

‘You got me.’

‘Looking at their portion sizes, I don’t think your plan’s going to work very well. Not that I’d need the help of — shut up, Jake.’

‘Keep going, Jake’ was what I’d have said and wanted if my stomach hadn’t started getting on my case for letting good food get cold. (‘Rubbery lobster? Gross!’) There was something hot about someone like Jake — a posh, proper Englishman, the polar opposite of Chris … okay, no, stop bringing him up, stop thinking about him, goddammit — talking openly, confidently, about his prowess. Such words … coming out of his mouth … in that accent … I quickly pressed my legs together to quell any desires. Which hunger of mine was responsible for this?

Wanting to satiate the one appetite I could at this very moment without earning myself prison time for my troubles, I said, ‘Bon appétit, Jake’, and picked up my fork … which promptly fell onto my plate with the fucking loudest clang. The smell of burning flesh tickled my nostrils — my burning flesh. My fingers were sizzling where the fork touched them. Sizzling! I prayed it was only my nose that could pick up this delectable aroma.

I stared at the cutlery. Trust a high-end French restaurant helmed by a Michelin-starred chef in a five-star hotel to use real silverware, not that cheap silver-plated shit. I prodded the fork handle — and withdrew my finger immediately. Not one of my finer moments. Please don’t tell me Jake saw it.

‘Is everything okay?’ said Jake.

Ah, fuck.

‘Yeah,’ I said, examining my palm. Good news: the burn hadn’t healed and wasn’t healing as quickly as my wounds and injuries (not that I had many of them) did after I was turned, so that was one less question to dodge. I didn’t want to keep lying to Jake. I didn’t like that I had been. How would I explain the absence of a second-degree burn that existed mere seconds ago anyway? Bad news: was this never going to heal because of what caused it? I had been so careful with silver since I was turned. How would I explain a perpetual second-degree burn? Would it out me as a werewolf to people who knew what to look for? Was now really the time for Twenty Questions?

Noticing Jake had been waiting on me to provide some kind of elucidation on my well-being, I said, ‘I guess I have a silver allergy. Can you believe it? Who’s allergic to silver?’

He didn’t need to say, ‘What kind of allergy burns someone?’ for me to hear it in my head.

‘Can you eat, then?’ he said.

I shook my head. As far as I was concerned, silver was lethal. No ifs, no buts, no maybes. If a perpetual second-degree burn was the worst thing to come out of fleeting contact with the metal, so be it. I’d consider myself a lucky lycan indeed.

‘Pardon me,’ Jake said to the waitstaff who’d come with our entrées, ‘would you have any disposable cutlery perhaps? My lady’ — he did not — ‘is allergic to the silverware.’

The waitstaff did an excellent job of not acting like this very dashing gentleman had just dropped the barmiest string of words on her during her entire employment in this line of work. Even I didn’t quite believe it myself. ‘I’ll see what we have, sir, ma’am,’ she said, cool as a cucumber. After she finished setting down our food, she collected all the silverware on my side of the table and left.

‘I don’t think whatever she comes back with would help with your veal. I could cut it up for you?’ said Jake.

Oh, my God. Getting burnt by silver must be the universe’s way of course-correcting the unusual jackpot I’d hit with him. Good Tinder matches were a myth!

‘No, it’s fine. Thank you. I’ll manage … somehow,’ I said. The wooden cutlery the waitstaff had returned with didn’t inspire confidence in me to not fling a piece of meat or a utensil at someone while cutting into my food.

‘We could swap dishes. I’d be fine with the veal. It was in my top five earlier.’

I suffocated a sigh. His scallops looked more like an appetiser than a main. But what choice did I have? I could either eat the veal like the animal that put me in this position or go through the restaurant’s entire supply of wooden cutlery with nothing to show for the effort in my belly and possibly injure someone in the process. Neither option would do any favours for my image in the eyes of the guy I liked and whose bones I’d like to jump at some point, enhanced animal lust or not.

So, I agreed. I tried to draw out the meal for as long as I could. Between the teeny serving and the unwieldiness of the wooden cutlery, I was having a miserable time. Dinner had become a silent affair, a far cry from everything prior to this point. Contrary to the vibe I was putting out, the food had nothing to do with my dour mood. For the first time since I was turned, I wasn’t happy about what I was. Could I never truly lead a normal life? Did I have to lie to every potential suitor and fret about whether they’d accept that other side of me on top of all the intricacies of dating?

There ought to be a dating app for verified supernatural creatures.

‘How’s the veal?’ I said. I had to speak up: I wasn’t being fair to Jake by acting like a sullen teenager over something he had zero control over, and the silence was deafening.

‘It’s — I might’ve done you a favour. How about my — your scallops?’

‘As good as three bites can get. I can’t tell if it tastes funny because of the wooden fork.’

‘This has been a disaster, hasn’t it?’ He flashed a wry smile. ‘Can I be honest? I have no idea what possessed me to pick a place like this for a first date.’

‘It’s a nice place. And it hasn’t been a disaster.’ If anything, I was the disaster. As always.

‘How was the market?’

‘The market was great. I had an amazing time.’

‘Thank God. I’ll take one out of two.’

I reached across the table and placed my hand on top of his. He made things extra saucy by interlocking his fingers with mine. ‘Jake, it’s fine. Today has been wonderful. I should be sorry for making things awkward with my … allergy.’ Nope, that still sounded silly.

‘What? No, don’t be. It’s not your fault.’

It … kind of was.

‘How about ice cream after this? My treat. I’m certain the rhubarb will be so very pretty and so very … nothing.’

He hit the nail on the head. The food we had would do wonders for my Instagram feed while having done nothing for my diet. I appreciated his offer, though I was afraid it would take more than ice cream to fill me up properly … Then again, that was a problem that rested solely in my dominion, not his, and it was one I intended to solve by trawling the likes of Deliveroo and Uber Eats in the comfort of my underthings at home — the one true way to enjoy food.

I asked for the bill the second dessert arrived. I wanted to leave here as soon as possible. I had quite enough of the wooden cutlery. I felt like a child using them. And like I told Jake earlier, I was on the fence about whether to attribute the food’s slightly off taste to them or my unrefined taste buds. Even the rhubarb wasn’t spared. Dessert was supposed to be my safe space, dammit!

I footed the bill in its entirety despite his objections. It helped that the waitstaff presented it to me because I’d been the one who asked, and that I was quick with my card. Sisters watching out for each other, everyone. The plan was then to go about the rest of the evening as if it had slipped my mind to ask him for his half or even bring it up in the first place. It was the least I could do for putting a wee damper on dinner with my … me-ness. He was going to treat me to ice cream anyway. There. We were even now.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often went awry: Jake snatched the bill folder and, taking out his phone, said, ‘Do you have Paym, Pingit, or PayPal? Why am I only noticing now that they all start with P?’

I admitted defeat: ‘Paym.’ It might be harder for him — or anyone — to believe I had none of those apps than that I was a werewolf. Did I want to put that to the test? No.

My phone buzzed with the confirmation that my plan had been a dud. ‘Thank you. Now let’s blow this popsicle stand and head to a real one.’

We left and worked on our next destination outside the restaurant. The staff had to want us out of there as much as we wanted ourselves out of there. The time of day meant we had limited options: ice cream parlours in London seemed to think people would lose the mood for sweet treats the moment the sky turned dark and the air cooled. Inanity. We had to return to where our date started for the one place that was open at this hour. It was just as well: I needed the walk this time to clear my head after what happened at dinner. It hadn’t seemed to dull the shine of his opinion of me, at least. He was as chipper as ever. Unless he was a good actor and paid up as soon as he did so he could ghost me after this and find himself a date that didn’t have some bogus allergy to silver …

Me? Over-thinking things? Never.

‘Do you want to do takeout or eat in?’ I said when we found ourselves less than fifty metres away from the parlour tasked with plying us with ice cream for tonight without a say in the matter.

‘Let’s do takeout and walk back to Borough Station. Full circle.’

The place was crowded: the most logical outcome for the only ice cream parlour open at this time near a tourist hotspot in the middle of summer. Customer turnover was quick, however, and we left with our orders within fifteen minutes. As tempting as their sundaes and waffles — towering, decadent creations of sugary indulgence — looked, we went back to the basics after our overly sophisticated dinner. Unlike before, what we wanted came to us in a snap: for myself, a speculoos gelato; for Jake, a gelato, too, but make it salted caramel.

And this time, we could help ourselves to each other’s food. With permission, of course.

‘A fraction of the price, but infinitely better,’ I said.

‘I hope the same can be said of our second date.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Dinner at Chez Walker. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’

‘I do think so.’

‘It would have to be the weekend after next, though.’

‘Why? Got another date next Saturday?’ I had a firm enough grip on reality to recognise and accept that a guy like him had to be neck deep in matches.

‘No … next weekend’s the full moon. I thought you’d know.’

I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘Why would I?’ I buried my stammer under a bemused scoff. Like, why would anyone — any not-werewolf, which, as far as Jake was concerned, was what I was — care to know when the full moon was?

He, too, stopped walking and looked me dead in the eye. ‘Imogen, I know what you are.’

I wiped my palms on the front of my dress. They were suddenly so sweaty. So sweaty. Why were they so sweaty? Could he see that they were so sweaty? I tried to defuse the situation the best — and maybe only — way I knew how: ‘Are we quoting Twilight? I’ll have you know that I liked the book when I first read it in 2007. And I thought the movie wasn’t too bad either.’ This was true, and I wasn’t ashamed of it. Any female millennial who said they had felt nothing for Edward Cullen was a filthy liar.

‘I’m not ashamed either to say I read the book and watched the movie. But I’m serious.’

‘Okay … say it, then. Go on.’ Was that how the line went? I wasn’t going to look it up now. On a list of things that mattered in this moment, accurate movie quotes was nowhere near the top twenty.

‘You’re a werewolf. And I know how this sounds, so don’t humour me or —’ His tone had taken on a jittery lilt, uncharacteristic of someone who ought to be humoured, ridiculed (what his next word had to be), or — my worst-case scenario — feared.

‘How did you know?’

His mien changed in a manner that suggested that wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Fuck it. Chris had trusted me enough to tell me the truth after a handful of dates, and he did it because he liked me a lot and he wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible so that we could move on in some way. (Me asking him to turn me was the real curveball of that conversation.) The least I could do, really, was to extend that same courtesy to Jake. I liked him. I liked him a lot. If he had a problem with what I was, it was better that I found out now that he did than many months down the road. There was no element of compromise to my … condition.

‘You mean I’m —?’

‘Right? Not crazy?’ I showed him my palm. The burn had taken about an hour to reach the healing stage normal people would reach in a week or so. ‘Yeah.’

‘Damn …’ He cleared his throat. ‘How did I know? I was brought up on a steady diet of horror movies and read way too many young adult supernatural books in the day, more than I’d care to admit. That, and my ex-girlfriend’s second uncle was killed by a werewolf.’

‘Shit.’

‘I’m kidding — about the last part. The first two are true. My ex-girlfriend was a vampire, and one of her uncles — I can’t remember which one; it could’ve really been her second — was with a werewolf when we were together. Vampires and werewolves get along quite well, actually.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘How the tables have turned … I’m not.’ He went through his phone with his free hand and, upon finding what he’d been looking for, passed it to me. ‘Look.’

On the screen was a photo of him with his arm around a hazy figure in clothes that were otherwise in focus.

‘Drove me quite mad at first, thinking something was wrong with my phone. Then she went a little … overboard once, and the rest was history. She shared everything about her world — your world — with me. And I’m also in several online paranormal communities, so there’s that. It’s not all as hush-hush as one might think. It just takes an open mind.’

I returned his phone to him. ‘How did you figure me out?’

‘Your “allergy”. I had my suspicions about your scar. Your reaction to the silverware confirmed them. Allergies … don’t do this.’ He took my hand and stroked my palm. The sensation of his fingers on the raw skin was … electric. ‘I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position and you weren’t ready to tell me. What I said … just slipped out. I understand. It has to be fucking terrifying. It’s okay if you don’t want to see me again after this. But I want you to know that what you are doesn’t change a thing about how I feel about you. How you were turned is none of my business. The whole thing is, really. I did an arse thing. I’m an arse. First with the goddamn restaurant, now this. Way to fucking go, Walker,’ he said to himself quietly.

I flung my empty gelato container into the nearest bin, and then my arms around him. I helped throw away his for him, too. ‘You’re not an arse, Jake. This doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you, too. I like you a lot.’ His cheeks flushed deeply under the moonlight. ‘I was freaking out about this whole thing during dinner because I like you a lot. I am so relieved that we’ve gotten to lay our cards on the table.’ I fanned myself with my hand. Don’t cry, Imogen! ‘And because I don’t want there to be any more lies between us, it was my ex-boyfriend who turned me, and he did it because I wanted it.’

‘Oh. Yeah, it still doesn’t change a thing.’ His lips landed on my forehead in a peck. ‘Okay, I never imagined the topic of our exes would come up so often during our first date. Oh, well. Guess they had more of an impact on us than we’d like to think.’

‘Yeah’ — I chuckled, ‘let’s keep walking.’

I peeled myself off him. Our hands remained intertwined. Like dinner, the remaining walk — as short as it was — to the station was a quiet one. Unlike dinner, it was more so that we were simply basking, revelling, in the afterglow of our attraction to each other and each other’s presence. The world felt right again, just as it did at the farmers market.

The next time we spoke was on the train platform. ‘Thank you for the lovely time,’ I said, ‘and for being such a sweetheart.’ I waved my bouquet at him. It still looked pristine despite all the walking we did. ‘For everything.’

‘Thank you, too. I had an amazing time with you today. I can assure you that Chez Walker will serve larger portions than what we had earlier.’

‘I’m looking forward to it.’

‘The weekend after next, then?’

‘Yes,’ I said, grinning. ‘I’d be down for any time before the weekend, too, if Chez Walker is open then.’

‘I’ll speak with the chef.’

He moved in for a goodbye kiss, which I seized wholeheartedly. His smell and the sound of his heartbeat flooded my senses. I could feel his heart beating against his chest under my touch, thumping, thumping away for every second our lips lingered on each other’s. I had to contain myself and keep things G-rated and light, as such kisses were wont to be, though my instincts were screaming, baying, at me to get to satisfying at least one craving tonight. I was the one to break off the kiss for fear of going too far.

‘Just in time,’ said Jake, his eyes doing that thing they did whenever he smiled. ‘My train’s here. I’ll see you next week?’

‘I thought you said you’ll speak with the chef about next week.’

‘I realised I don’t care what the chef thinks. He’ll be fine with it anyhow: he doesn’t have to bust out the good silverware.’

‘Goodbye, Jake.’

‘See you, Imogen. Message me when you get home?’

‘I will.’

We waved at each other, right before the train doors swallowed him up. My train came soon after, too. I spent the entire ride home wondering not what to fill the void that was my stomach with, but what fresh hell the universe had in store for me in return for scoring me a guy like Jake.

[nbrook29]

Sobbe, 6: Teary kiss🥺

Another anon:  1!!

As always, apologies for the long post. Until someone shares the secret with me on how to make the read more thingy work, this is how it’s going to be :(

Again, I don’t know how to write plotless prompts, hence -->

based on But do you REALLY want the K?

Teary kiss + passionate kiss

***

Robbe lets out another shaky breath trying to gain control over his emotions. 

There are people running back and forth next to them, yelling at their kids and dragging heavy suitcases on the tiled floor, rushing to get to their gate on time and yet it feels like the two of them are the only ones existing, foreheads resting against each other, hands reassuringly stroking bony hips and arms looped behind necks holding on for dear life.

They’ve been standing like this for a while, Sander swaying them a little as if to soothe the pain, both of them refusing to let go, not yet, not until that final call is announced. 

It all still feels so surreal.

He knew it was coming, obviously, but he naively thought that he managed to prepare himself for this. 

But now, when he’s faced with the cold interior of the airport at the early hour, gate number 5 looming over just around the corner, reality finally sinks in.

Five months apart.

He’s not sure how his heart is supposed to survive it.

When Sander burst into his bedroom that fateful Wednesday evening, elation in his eyes, talking a mile a minute about his project winning a scholarship, Robbe pulled him on his bed next to himself, placing congratulatory kisses all over his laughing face, calling him “His Artist” a bit teasingly but also with clear adoration easily detectable in his voice.

Once they calmed down a bit and rearranged their bodies to lie facing each other, the wide smile on Sander’s face started to slip, his hand reaching to touch Robbe’s cheek, thumb stroking under his eye as he opened and closed his mouth several times before uttering words that made Robbe’s smile slip as well.

Columbia University, New York City, five months

And then, he added in a small voice, “I don’t know what to do, Robbe.”

The selfish part of him instantly screamed at him to convince Sander, to beg him to stay, to not leave him. Not for five fucking months.

Robbe only needed five seconds to kill that thought and tell it to shut the fuck up.

His boyfriend lied there, next to him, licking his lips nervously, looking so lost and searching for an answer in his eyes, and Robbe could see he was moments away from declaring that nope, no way, he wasn’t going anywhere. 

And that was absolutely unacceptable.

Instead of saying anything, he closed the distance between them and captured his mouth in a searing kiss, hoping it conveyed that he was one hundred percent on board with the plan.

When they broke apart, he shot him a beaming smile. “I can’t wait for you to send me photos of New York street art.”

Sander looked at him with wonder in his eyes, a little unsure if he actually meant it.

“Will you really wait for me for that long?”

“You know I’ll wait for you forever.”

It’s ironic that it was Robbe who spent the last two months reassuring Sander about the trip, squashing any doubt related to their relationship that arose, convincing him that he’s going to be okay left behind. That they are going to be okay.

It’s not that big of a deal, right? Robbe was about to start college anyway, so many exciting times were coming his way. Of course he’s going to wait. He’s going to enjoy his college experience at a film school and Sander is going to conquer New York City, living his best american life, video chatting with him everyday to tell him what he’s been up to. Then, he’s going to come back and they’re finally going to rent a place together. A perfect plan.

So yeah, it’s ironic. It’s ironic because it’s actually Robbe who is a mess now.

The thought of separation hurts so badly but Sander getting a chance to go to New York to study visual arts at fucking Columbia and rejecting the offer for Robbe and their relationship has been out of the question from the start. Robbe would never forgive himself for taking that away from him.

It’s the center of the art world. He needs to go there. If he had decided not to, Robbe would have packed him and pushed him through the plane entrance himself.

“You’re breaking my heart, baby,” Sander whispers in a shaky voice as his fingers catch a runaway tear on Robbe’s cheek. 

Robbe can see that Sander is trying to be strong for both of them, as always taking care of him and his needs first and Robbe loves him so much for that that his heart is almost bursting.

But he also doesn’t want Sander to feel guilty or torn over this even for a second. This is supposed to be an adventure of a lifetime. He can’t take this away from him.

“I’m gonna be okay, don’t worry about me.” He shoots him a smile that he hopes looks convincing.

“I hate the thought of leaving you. Not being able to kiss you,” Sander connects their lips as if for emphasis, and the kiss tastes of salt, making Robbe realize that he’s not the only one getting overwhelmed.

Their bubble is brutally burst when the final call to board for Sander’s flight is announced over the speaker. 

Robbe can feel his entire body getting filled with desperation all at once at the loud voice but before he can do anything Sander pulls him even closer and kisses him, burying his fingers in his curls. The kiss is bruising from the start, frantic as Sander sweeps his tongue in deeper and Robbe makes sure he gives as good as he gets, kissing him thoroughly, hands clinging to the lapels of his leather jacket.

It doesn’t matter that they already had their main goodbye last night. That they spent all those hours lost in each other, learning each other’s body anew, alternating between sweet and loving, and fast and passionate but not any less loving. It doesn’t matter that their bodies will be marked with mouth-shaped bruises and light scratches for days. It doesn’t matter that Robbe can still feel him. 

It doesn’t matter because it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.

It’s a good thing no one pays them any attention, everyone too busy with their own goodbyes and patting their chest all the time to make sure they have their passport, because the voice in the back of Robbe’s head tells him it’s probably not the most appropriate place for this kind of kissing.

It’s almost impossible for them to stop, to break apart but they don’t have a choice as the line to the gate keeps shortening.

“I’ll try to come home for Christmas, I promise,” Sander whispers into his mouth in between the kisses. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“You know, I left you my beige sweater so you don’t miss me too much.” Robbe’s laugh sounds teary, his body already mourning the loss of contact when Sander puts some distance between them, bending to grab his carry-on bag before letting out a miserable sigh.

“I have to go.”

The fingers of their right hands are still entwined though, neither of them strong enough to break the touch for good. It reminds Robbe of that cloudy afternoon in front of Sander’s school where the boy graciously granted him a second chance for which he still has been grateful every day.

In the end, Sander is the one to let go first but he only does it to then cup his cheeks with both hands and place the sweetest kiss on his lips Robbe has ever gotten.

Then it’s really time to go.

Robbe forces himself to keep the smile on throughout the entire process of boarding, twisting his fingers to keep the emotions at bay. Sander barely pays any attention to the flight attendant in front of him as he hands in his passport absentmindedly, his eyes flying over Robbe’s face as if he’s trying to memorize every single detail from afar, in case he somehow missed something during all those times before.

Once he’s all clear and the woman starts checking on the last passenger, Robbe knows it’s time.

So he watches, gnawing on his bottom lip with hot tears threatening to spill any second now. He watches as the love of his life hovers a bit longer next to the gate, blowing him that last kiss, mouthing “I love you, Robin” with glassy eyes of his own before turning around and disappearing in the long jet bridge.

It is only then that Robbe allows himself to break down completely.

***

Shoutout to @painfully-oblivious @dagcutie and @gele-gordijnen for helping me with figuring out Sander’s major when my brain decided to do me dirty <3

[notyetneedcoffee]

Soul Seer, Pt. 12

Loki Master List

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Angst, 18+ Smut

Author’s Note: Takes place right after Avengers 1, with time travel elements and hints of Infinity Wars. Does NOT follow cannon after Avengers.

Sorry for taking so long to update... there’s only a couple parts left to go!

“We have a problem.” Tony Stark strode into the conference room Steve Rogers had taken over as his head quarters for the rescue and clean up operations. Cap looked up from the tablet he’d been studying. Tony didn’t usually sound that angry even in the middle of a fight.

“What is it?” Cap stood up.

Tony looked around the room. You felt the wave rage, betrayal, flowing off him and looked over at Loki with confusion. The other three men in the room, Army General Ramirez, Colonel Whitehall and the FDNY Fire Chief all stopped, waiting.

Tony flicked his mobile unit, sending a holographic display over the table. A huge group of citizens was gathered outside the damage zone. They were chanting and carrying signs with things like “Justice Must Be Served”.

“Someone leaked who our out of town help really is.” Tony flipped the display to a news anchor. An image of Loki taken from the battle sat next to an image someone caught on their cell phone of him in his “Luke” disguise. Tony crossed his arms and scowled. “They’re calling for him to be turned over to authorities.”

“He’s helping us.” Steve scowled. “He’s been held accountable by his own people.”

“Anyone know who leaked?” The General slapped his notebook down.  

For all of the confusion and anger flying around the room, Loki was a center of calm. You stood, walking slowly to Loki’s side. You placed both your hands on his chest. His eyes remained on the holo image, but his focus was elsewhere. At your touch, his hands came up to cover yours.

“Loki?”

“The secret is out and cannot be put back. There are now but two choices. You deny your people a justice they deserve and watch as dissent and violence erupt amongst the masses, or you turn me over.” His eyes lowered to meet you wide stare.

“No.” You shook your head.

“That- “ Tony waved his finger around. “That is not going to happen. God, I can’t believe I’m going to say this! But we actually need your help.”

“He’s right” Steve rubbed his forehead. “We would not have accomplished what we have in the last three weeks without your help.”

“Loki is also right,” General tapped his pen on the desk. “If people know he’s here, even if we prove he’s helping, they’ll call for blood. People are terrified. This was an alien attack on American soil. It’s going to be ugly either way.”

“Excuse me.” Jarvis cut in to the conversation. “Sir, Secretary of State Wallace is calling for you.”

“Fuck.” Tony shut down the holo image.

“Buy time, Tony.” Steve folded his arm. “We need to talk about this before we agree to anything.”

“Yeah.” Tony brought his mobile to his ear. “Hey Jack! How’s it hangin’?” He marched out the room for his office.

“Loki, why are you so calm?” You studied his face. “Oh, no. No. You knew this was going to happen. You’ve been waiting for it to happen.”

His cool hand cupped your face, thumb ghosting over your lower lip. “Yes, my pet. I knew.”

Within an hour, you found yourself sitting beside Loki in a room filled to the brink with Avengers and US officials. You listened to the arguments fly around the room, felt level of animosity rise. Fury insisted if Loki was going to be incarcerated it should be with SHIELD. Others insisted there be a trial. Some wondered if sentenced to death, could he even be executed. What it mean in the public opinion if he couldn’t be killed. Bruce was adamant that Loki had already been tried by Odin.

“Are you alright, my pet?” Loki’s baritone voice cut through the noise.

“No.” You shook your head, realizing how close you were to tears. Anxiety, anger, and frustration raged inside. “You can’t let them take you.”

Loki stood and held his hand out for you. Before you made two steps from the table, Rogers called out. “Loki. Where are you going?”

“Captain, I believe you know my intentions in regard to the work you are doing here. I am bound to whatever order is given me. Being here, while my fate is decided, is not necessary.” Loki’s gaze moved to you then back to the Cap. “Don’t you agree?”

He understood. This was about you. “You’re right. The conversation may even be a little more honest with you out of the room. We all know the weight of Dr. Banner’s opinion. We’ll let you know when we’re done.”

Loki tipped his head and led you from the room with a hand at your back. The calm radiating off of him was infuriating. He was normally full of fire and fight. It scared you and you hated being scared. You managed to keep quiet until the elevator doors closed.

“Don’t you dare tell me you’re just giving up.” You growled, staring at the readout taking you to your floor.

“I must do as Dr. Banner orders. What is there to give up?” Loki sounded distant.

“What is there – “ You spun, instantly furious. “My entire life, my entire existence, has changed! Do you have any idea what would happen to me if they took you! Do you know what that would do to me! What is there to give up?! You selfish- “

Loki’s mouth crashed over yours. His hands roughly pulling you flush against his body, lifting you off your toes. Waves of possessive need, protective outrage, wrapped around you as tightly as his arms. Your fingers slipped through his silky hair as you clung to him.

The elevator doors opened, Loki waltzed you onto your floor. A tickle dance across your skin just before he dropped you down on the soft sheets of your bed. The cool air tickled across your bare flesh. Loki pinned you to the bed, hands holding down your wrists.

His face hovered over your, eyes blazing. “You are mine. I will not allow you to be . . . taken . . . from me. I will do whatever I must to keep you safe.”

“But you were so calm.” The tightness in your chest began to unravel. “What if they decide to. . .”

“It doesn’t matter what they decide.” Loki’s nose ghosted over yours, his breath mingling with yours. “The only word that matters is Banner’s.” His tongue slipped along your lower lip. “He is a man of reason.”

“You’re not concerned?”

“No, my pet, worry not.”

“But…”

His mouth covered yours, tongue dancing around your, drawing a moan from your throat. He nipped your lower lip between his teeth. “Whatever may come, I will protect you, my feisty little pet.”

“Don’t laugh at me. I was furious.” You rocked your hips up against him, causing Loki to growl. You twisted your wrists until your fingers entwined with his. “You are mine.”

Loki fell upon you like a man starving. He bit marks across your neck. His body slid along yours. The coolness of his skin against your flushed skin sent shivers over your body. His teeth grazed your nipple. You pulled at his hair, calling his name. Loki marked your delicate flesh.

“So fine.” Loki growled. He pushed apart your legs, teeth nipping, hot tongue painting wet trails along your inner thighs. It sent fire racing through your veins. His fingers slid through your wetness, delving into your depths. With a wicked smile, Loki licked his fingers. “My sweet.”

“Loki, don’t tease.” You clawed at the sheets.

He pressed your knees toward your shoulders, his tongue taking a long sweep across your sex. His voice rumbled deep. “Don’t tell me what to do, my pet.” He flicked your clit with his tongue. “I do what I want.”

You wrapped your legs around him and twisted. He allowed you to flip him over onto his back. Straddling his waist, hands on his chest, you nipped at his jaw. “I wanted to stand in front of you, and dare anyone to take you from me. I would rip them apart. You are mine.”

His fingers dug into your ass as you rubbed against his hard cock. Loki’s eyes fell closed. Your declaration feeling more intoxicating than any Asgardian mead he’d ever tasted. “You are a marvel, my dear.”    

“Loki,” you breathed, lowering yourself on him. “Loki,” you sighed, relishing in the stretch and the feel of him. “Oh, fuck, Loki,” you panted sitting up and rocking on him. His cock hitting you perfectly.

His feet anchored on the bed, thrusting up. So powerful. Your cunt clenched around him. Loki growled, holding you in place and fucking you harder. You reached back, balancing with a hand on his knee. Heat coiled in your center.

Loki watched the sweat break out on your skin, delighted in your tits bouncing for him. He extended a tendril of magic. A cool vibrating thrum pressed against your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You began to quiver.

“Do not come until I say.” Loki ordered. You whined, but nodded. The onslaught of his cock and the vibration overwhelming.

An icy pinch nipped along the edge of your breast. You yipped. A series of them circles your breasts, making them feel tight and hyper-sensitive. Ghost finger pinch your nipples hard, sending a shock to your cunt that near pushed you over. “Oh, god, Loki!”

He growled, a smirk upon his face. The thrum upon your clit became stronger and pushed against you harder. “Not yet.” Loki slammed into at a brutal pace. Wet, skin slapping skin. You panted. Shook. You couldn’t help it. The pinches upon your nipples pulled hard, coming free, the flash of pain making you snap.

Heat burst forth. You flooded, squirting over his cock. Soaking everything. Shaking uncontrollably. Falling forward. Loki wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. Burying in you deep, coming hard with groan.

You lay boneless on his chest, breath slowly returning to normal. Loki stroked your skin, holding you gently. He allowed himself to get lost in your breath and heartbeat. You sighed and drifted into near sleep. He would not say it aloud, but if Banner makes any decision that takes you from him, he would tear everything to the ground.

You’d become his salvation. Loki once again wondered if the Norns laughed at him. A fragile little mortal.

He let you sleep, just holding you.

In short order though, Jarvis quietly alerted him of visitors. “Loki, excuse me, but Captain Rogers wishes me to inform you that he and the others are on their way to your suite.”

You lifted your head, sleepily.

“Thank you. Have they come to a decision?”

“I believe so, sir.”

“Time to get up?” You sat up, the worry returning.

“Yes.” Loki stood and held a hand out for you.

With a shimmer of magic, you were both clean and dressed. You smiled, leaning into him. “Magic is so cool.”

His lips covered yours in a gentle kiss just as the door to your suite chimed. You both walked out of the bedroom just as the living room filled. Rogers was joined by Stark, Banner, Romanoff, and surprisingly Fury.

“You’ve come to a conclusion.”

“Yeah.” Banner was smiling. Good sign.

“We explained about Odin’s orders and the oath.” Cap began. “But the court of public opinion is a pretty powerful force.”

“Indeed it is.” Loki agreed. He took you hand in his to keep you from fidgeting. Everyone’s emotions were bounding all over the spectrum.

“We couldn’t exactly ask some of the others to defy direct orders,” Fury continued the story. “So we figured we’re going to have to handle this one on our own for a while.”

Natasha smiled. “We are the spies after all.”

“So what did you finally decide to do about Loki?” You finally blurted out.

“If we’re going to get the happy ending we all want,” Tony smiled. “Loki has to die.”

TAGS

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[moral-turpitudes]

Unfinished Business: Part 1

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Slight mentions of past Abuse, Drugs.

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

+ random character/group I made up (Romboldi & The Black Hats)

Word Count: 3,084 omfg I really did the most but I just kinda ran with it.

Summary: Y/N’s current occupation requires her to encounter Thomas Shelby, a man she thought was in her past for good, but as fate would have it, she has to face him once again, because no one can forget a Shelby. 

Requested by: @msbzowy​

Summary of request: “...Thomas lost any contact with the reader and one time while on a business deal he meets her because they’re both involved in the business. They would be fighting a lot but eventually something happens between them and the old feelings come back? You can make it sweet or steamy. No specific deal in mind, just like the general idea! Thank you in advance!” 

A/N: This was requested as a oneshot but I had so many great ideas for it based off this awesome request, so I figured I’d turn it into a 2 or 3 part fic possibly. Let me know if that’s something you’d want to read. :)

Part 1 | Part 2

Y/n walked down the wooden staircase after receiving a phone call, one hand gliding down the rail, and the other holding her suitcase. Her nerves consuming her as she ran down the hall and out the door of her house in New York. The spring air filling her lungs as she quickly walked to the edge of the street, attempting to hail a cab. As she waved her hand out, she smiled as she saw one stop and handed him some cash for his efforts. She wasn’t much for pointless conversation, especially now. She was on her way to one of the biggest meetings of her career, a career she had found herself in only 2 years prior. It was a job most people wouldn’t want, but it paid well, and since she fled Small Heath, she needed the income and the protection. 

Small Heath was a series of bittersweet memories. Seeing her friends at the tailor shops, walking down the dark cobblestone streets, and becoming particularly close to a man named Thomas Shelby. After the war, he got heavily involved in the business, dealing with rival gangs, going after commissioners, committing arson, murder, dealing with bets at the tracks, and breaking hearts most of all. In the matter of heartbreaks, y/n was his first true victim. 

As the cab rolled down the city streets, she glanced out the window, remembering all that she left behind. 

Tensions in the blinders were running high at the time of her departure from the company, back when they had a business meeting with a rival group, the Black Hats from New York. The blinders wanted to transport weapons and ammo for a cheaper price because of recent financial troubles, but they weren’t having it and the Black Hats declined, but not without blowing up one of Tommy’s supply areas. This smuggling shit was risky business to say the least, as these were being smuggled along with drugs.....snow to be exact. The little blue bottles were like gold, taking away the pain of the day while giving you the energy to go on to the next, sucking you in like a rip-tide at sea until you were consumed by the need for more. She had been all too familiarized with it because Tommy struck a deal with a huge supply of it before she left. He didn’t use it often, but Arthur was a different story.

It came as a shock to her, as she had been dating Tommy for a year before everything came crashing down. She was confronted by him at a family meeting saying that she needed to leave, that she had no place there despite her skills. She was a great shot and was helpful on many occasions, but to have her there would pose a risk they weren’t willing to take after they bombed him. So, in true Tommy fashion, he gave her some money, bought her a boarding pass, and sent her on her way to New York to start a new life, his cold eyes staring as he watched her board the ship, emotionless.

This only fueled her need to get back at him, to show him what he had lost, while also proving to herself that she didn’t need him as much as he needed her. She could make a name for herself, even if that meant working for the enemy. 

Pulling up to the brick building, she realized she was now in the belly of the beast, the Black Hats home-turf. She was never seen with the Shelby’s when they visited him in Small Heath, as she was always doing secretary work at Tommy’s place, or perched high on rooftops, aiming at the men below who had came to charlies yard for their meetings. She was always out of sight regarding those men, but now here she was, working for them. She came to them seeking any position, lying about where she came from, supplying them with her forged papers, and even hiding her accent. For as big as this gang was, they weren’t the brightest, as they accepted her in with little apprehension. 

She earned a good living for herself though, quickly becoming their main contract killer. She would travel the country and take out the people on their hit list, and in return they’d provide her with housing and a guard that would check in every so often. 

As she walked in through the heavy double doors, she nodded to one of the guards who let her through into the leader, Mr. Romboldi’s office. He smiled as she came in, fiddling with his golden ring around his finger. 

“Ah there she is...little miss Quick Shot. Nice of you to join us.” He said using her nickname she’d earned among her peers. She could hit a target from various angles and distances without much help and came to like the name she made for herself. Y/n soon nodded and stood at attention like the others, ready for the days orders.

“We have some unfinished business in Small Heath, as I’m sure you’re all aware. It’s been a while since we’ve been overseas, and we’re going to send someone tomorrow to discuss our deal once more as they’ve had recent success in a certain business venture that I’m sure we’d appreciate here.” He said with a serious look in his eyes.

“What venture?” One of the men asked.

“Gin. Buying stocks in it, selling bottles, transporting cross-country, we Americans love our gin and Mr. Shelby has a new supply. He tried to low-ball us last time with the ammo, the guns, and the snow, but I’m going to send him an offer he can’t refuse this time.” He said smirking.

“What offer is that?” Y/n asked, putting on her fake accent.

“You.” He said looking at her. Y/n’s heart sank, as she looked at him and nodded. She never wanted to see him again after he booted her out like she meant nothing to him, even if it was to save-face for him and the company and for her safety. 

“You’re going to get him to supply us the gin and get him to pay us full price for our efforts with this am I clear?” He asked.

“Yes sir.” y/n said. 

“If you fail, we’ll be meeting again under very different circumstances.” He said, an evil smile playing at his lips.

She’s known him long enough to know that he meant he’d kill her or Tommy, and as much as she hated the man who broke her heart, she still loved him at the same time, and she couldn’t let him or his family die over a silly business deal.

As soon as she was dismissed, she grabbed her suitcase and headed off to the boating docks, buying a ticket and boarding the ship. She knew her boss didn’t care when she left, as long as she got there sometime that week. And besides, she was too anxious to wait around for tomorrow, knowing this was time sensitive. 

After the grueling ride aboard the ship, she went into London after going through the necessary checks. She used her alias and made her best impression, and then went on to Small Heath as assigned. When she got out of the car, she smirked as her red heels hit the black soil covered streets. Walking by a shop, she saw a women’s tailor and decided to stop in, buying a well made pant suit. It fit well and was a nice gray color with pinstripe detailing. Looking around further, she decided on a gold pocket watch, and nice hat to match, and then went on her way after buying it all. 

Walking down the street, she saw the Garrison, causing all the memories she had with Tommy and the rest of the blinders to start coming back. They were like brothers to her and despite her bitterness, she still loved them, as they were not particularly happy in seeing her go, as that was solely Tommy’s decision. 

Y/n shook the thoughts from her head, and waited outside the shop, leaning her back against the coal-black wall. While lighting a cigarette and taking a drag from it, she looked off into the distance seeing a man in a peaked cap riding a dark horse, much different than the white one she saw two years ago. As he pulled up near Shelby Company Ltd. He stopped in his tracks as y/n took another drag of her cigarette, looking at her pocket watch.  

“Nice horse Tommy. You’re right on time.” She said relishing in the fact that she could use her normal accent. Her sunglasses and new brimmed hat helped in disguising her face.

“Thank you miss....Who are you?” He asked his eyes burning a hole through her shaded lenses. She smirked and took them and the hat off, revealing her face.

“Y/n...” He said, his eyes growing wide. He immediately took her inside and to his office, shutting the door behind him. 

“What on earth are ya fucking doing here?” He asked.

“That’s not a nice greeting for someone you haven’t seen in two years Tom. But given what happened I didn’t expect anything nice from you anyways. I’m here on business.” She said, walking past him to put her cigarette out. He watched as she walked towards him, her arms folded over her well-fitting suit, standing in front of him.

“What business is that?” He asked. 

“Oh you know, just a little...mafia business back in New York. Nothing too big... except that you’ve pissed off my boss. And now I’m sent here to try to make a deal.” She said making herself at home in one of his leather armchairs. He raised an eyebrow and sat on the edge of his desk near her. 

“What deal? Who are you working for y/n?” He asked.

“The Black Hats. Mr Romboldi to be exact...ring a bell yet? The son of a bitch who took me in after you booted me out without a goodbye? Yeah, him. He still remembers your little low-ball offer for the guns, the ammo, and-” She chuckled as she remembered the drugs. “-the fucking snow.” She said giving him daggers.

He looked down, y/n could see the gears turning in his head.

“I told you to leave and not go anywhere near them y/n. Why the hell are ya working for em aye?” He asked angrily. 

“You and I both know I couldn’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs and making pies for someone I never loved all day. I wasn’t going to be some house wife to some old bastard while I could’ve been out shooting and working a meaningful job. I wasn’t going to let myself rot.” She said, her own voice raising. 

“You didn’t have to choose this life though. You could’ve left this behind like I wanted you to.” He said lighting a cigarette. 

Y/n chuckled. “I remember what you told me one time, when I first started getting involved in Peaky business. You said and I quote, ‘you can change what you do, but you can’t change what you want.’ And you know what Tommy? I wanted this life, I wanted you, I wanted to make a name for myself, I wanted the thrill of this job because I often feel nothing. But I’ve only gotten half of that.” She said getting up, pacing around the room as he watched.

“What did you not get y/n?” He asked too focused on the mafia issue at hand to realize she mentioned him.

“You, you fucking idiot! But you threw me out, no goodbyes, no letters, nothing.” She said, her eyes filling up with tears.

“Y/n...that was two years ago. I was trying to protect you.” He said noticing the tears running down her face. 

“I had a job. I had a life here. I’m not expecting you to ever want me back but god damn it I’d like an apology. Hell, you didn’t protect me from shit.” She said, thinking about some of the things she had to do to get through to some people for her boss. She shuddered at the thought.

He looked hurt, seeing her like that, and despite it being two years since that day, he still loved her all the same, he was just terrible at showing it. He never thought he’d see her again, and in that moment he decided he wasn’t going to let her go again. 

She wiped her eyes as she felt him walk up behind her, she tensed up, not knowing what would happen next. He put his hand on her shoulder lightly, and she turned around to face him, her eyes still bright and hopeful after all that had happened. He loved her, and after she left, he mentally beat himself up over it every day. He turned to snow for a while, along with his opium, but what he truly needed was y/n. Fearing she may be too angry to every take him back, he hesitated as he brushed the tears from her cheek and kissed her. 

Instead of slapping him or walking out, she deepened the kiss, which surprised Tommy, as he pulled her as close has he could, not wanting to let her go. When they parted, lightly gasping for air, he smiled slightly and so did she. 

“I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry y/n.” He said stepping back from her.

She looked at him as she processed what happened, she never expected to fall right back into his arms after all she went through, but here she was, being sucked in by his ocean blue eyes once again. 

She straightened her blazer out and pushed a stray hair out of her face. 

“Why did you kiss me Thomas?” Y/n asked taking another cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it. 

Thomas thought for a moment, trying to pick his words less recklessly this time around.

“When I forced you out, I stayed up every night beating myself up. I’ll never get those nights back, but those nights made me realize something y/n.” He said.

“If you’re going to break my heart again just say it already.” She said tapping her heel impatiently. 

“I love you...y/n.” He said looking at her, studying her as she moved anxiously. He loved the way she looked, the way she carried herself, the way she wasn’t afraid to call him out. But he was terrified for the first time in his life that the woman he loved wouldn't return those very words back to him.

She looked down, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I came here not only because of an order Tom...but because deep down despite my hate for what you did, I knew why you did it. And even though two fucking years have passed, I still haven’t been able to get you out of my head. So, I guess what the fuck I’m trying to say is that I love you too, you bastard.” She said looking up at him a light smile playing at her lips.

He smiled and walked over to her and took her hand in his, kissing it lightly. 

“I promise to never do something so foolish again y/n. I swear on me fucking life...so am I forgiven?” He asked.

She took his words into consideration and nodded, bringing his lips to hers. Breaking away, she walked around the room slowly, remembering all of their fun times in here after-hours. 

“So, about Mr. Romboldi, y/n how serious is this?” He asked.

“Well, he said that you’ll have to pay them full price for their services. He wants your gin. He sent me to persuade you to pay him for distribution and sales in the states......and It’s not easy Tommy, smuggling things.... especially alcohol back to the states........I hate him and his men believe me, but they risk their lives getting that kind of stuff so I think you should consider paying a full price.” She said.

“And if I don’t?” He asked. 

Y/n sighed. “I was also sent here because he knew you couldn’t refuse an offer if it came from a pretty woman. Now, he may have been right on that part, but he doesn’t know that I’ve been working under an alias for him, and he doesn’t know I know you. They think my name is Y/N Anderson, from Virginia. And so if you don’t take this offer, they’re going to find out, and then Mr. Romboldi and his men are gonna waltz in here and kill you, me, and everyone you care about because they’ve already been wronged once, and they don’t like being wronged a second time.” She said sternly, taking another drag from her cigarette.

He sighed and ran his hands over his head, his face growing angry.

“What is it Tommy?” Y/n asked, noticing his behavior. 

“After all this time, I thought maybe I’d be done for a moment y/n. With this whole empire of a business. But I think that moment will never come...before I stupidly forced you away, I had everything. I had this going great, and at night I could sleep. But now, when I do sleep, I dream. And in my dream, someone wants my crown.” He said with a sad look to his eyes. Y/n came over to him and hugged him gently, feeling him relax at her touch.

“Well, I’m here now. And the only way you’re going to get a break and get to keep your crown is if you help me fucking take care of this Thomas.” She said. 

He sighed and took a moment to think.

“Alright...in that case...you’re going to call him from a payphone tomorrow. You’re going to say I accept his offer now that we have the fucking funds to do so, and you’re going to tell him we can meet in a weeks time. We’ll meet in charlies yard again.” He said.

“So we have a deal then?” She asked grinning, still embracing him.

“We have a deal.” He said. 

“So now that I’m here...where shall I stay?” She asked.

“Well, first I’m going to re-introduce you to the family which I’m sure they’ll love. Then, I’ll be taking you to my place.” He said.

“And why is that?” She asked a mischievous smile playing at her lips.

“Because we have some unfinished business.” He said, before pecking her lips and ushering y/n out the door and into the family meeting room.

[msjr0119]

Cordonian Wags

Part 27

In a world full of Professional footballers and their demanding wives- can their football team nicknamed the ‘Cordonian Apples’ succeed? An American female physiotherapist joins the club. Will this cause issues with the footballers wives?

*This series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch. Other characters belong to me.*

Please do not read if you are under the age of 18. If you do you are consenting that you are over this age. If any of the below warnings affect you, please don’t continue to read.

Warnings: Mention of; sex scandal, drug scandal, prostitution, adultery, death, adultery, murder (past tense). Swearing 🤬

A/N: The first part of this chapter follows on from the previous chapter. Then there is a flash forward (six months). The chapters following on from this one will show certain characters POV’s from the last six months.

Previously: The team all try to piece together the events in Paphos from all those years ago. Drake believes that he has fathered a child after a one night stand after viewing the DNA results- but it’s not as everything seems. Catch up here.

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The morning after, everybody arrived at the stadium to prepare for the days match. All feeling the need to cover up the slight hangovers that they had occurred was proving to a difficult task. Adding to their headaches, was the scandal that Drake Walker had caused. A situation that as a group- they was determined to fix. Quickly.

Drake arrived onto the pitch first, needing any excuse to escape his own house. Having another woman stay there made him feel like he was cheating on Riley. Even if she had made it pretty clear that they couldn’t be together. There was an internal battle going off in his mind. How was he was going to inform her about the news that he had received the previous night? Of course he didn’t want the press to find out prior to her, she didn’t deserve that. But then he was wondering how she would react once she knew. Would she completely ghost him? Who knows.

****

The previous night once she had arrived back at Bastien’s, Riley stayed up the majority of the night researching the Paphos break on google. As a previous WAG herself she knew that events such as these would have been published by the paparazzi. There was no escaping or hiding from them. Her research showed photos of the men arriving at the clubs, hiding their identities as best as they could. But the last article that she stumbled across was based back in Cordonia- or so she believed. The majority of it involved what the Wags were up to whilst their men were away on the ‘lads holiday’ celebrating. Olivia had been for brunch with; Hana, Penelope and Savannah one of the day’s. However, what really caught Riley’s attention was a mystery woman in a nightclub with Madeleine- in Paphos. The two woman were snapped for the majority of the night and seemed pretty close- who was this woman, Riley wondered? If she was a close friend, why wasn’t Madeleine with her the majority of the time now? Zooming into the photo her eyes widened. Amy Amaranth. The name rang a bell for some reason but she couldn’t pin point as to why. It had rattled through her mind all night. Upon her arrival - she noticed Olivier and suddenly a lightbulb struck. Memories flooding back in an instant.

“Hey....” Sounding panic stricken, Olivier looked at her concerned.

“Bonjour belle. Que se passe-t-il?” Hello beautiful. What is the matter? Luckily Riley knew French, not fluently but enough to hold a basic conversation out.

“Amy Amaranth....” Riley didn’t need to elaborate, the look of horror was now painted across the Frenchman’s face.

“That’s a blast from the past...” Olivier hated the woman with a passion - as did most of the footballers. Those that had the sense to not become bewitched by her beauty.

“Sneak away with me for a bit? I need you to help refresh my memory, Olivier.” Nodding, he dropped the ball immediately before making their way off of the pitch. Swiftly.

****

It was half time. The Apples were beating their opponents- currently they were on a winning streak. Which made Bertrand especially proud. Riley made a beeline for Drake knowing that they only had a short amount of time before the second half kicked off.

“Congratulations, Walker.” Riley had noticed after the two goals that he had scored, he would look in her direction- smile. Then have the need to continue playing with a limited celebration.

“Thanks, Brooks..” Unable to make eye contact with her, he concentrated on wiping his boots.

“How are you?”

“As good as I can be. What about you?”

“Listen, Drake.... there’s something I need to tell you...” Ignoring his prior question, she felt the need to just get to the point.

“Don’t bother, I have an inkling about what it is...” Drake put his boots back on, avoiding looking at his ex girlfriend- he stood up and made his way towards the door. Not really wanting this conversation to continue.

“You do?” Riley questioned, hoping that they were both on the same wavelength. If Drake already knew what she needed to inform him about, it would make the whole situation a lot simpler.

“You’ve begun to see, Berger. Hence why you didn’t want to fight for us.”

“I’m not a slut, Drake!”

“Really? You slept with me when I had a girlfriend. You snuck off with him before. What was it? A quick fuck in the changing rooms? Wishing him good luck?”

“No! About us.... How dare you! It takes two to tango!”

“I don’t want to hear it, Ri. I wanted to marry you. Then you ditch me at the first sign of trouble..”

“Myself and Olivier are friends. We have been for many years. Nothing more, nothing less. You know what? It’s a good job that you never got down on one knee because if I’m so much of a ‘slut’ you’d have regretted it. Don’t bother even talking to me until you can say sorry. I can apologise for apparently ditching you- I wanted for you to have the opportunity to get to know your potential child. You wanted kids. I couldn’t give you that. Why am I even arguing with you? I needed to tell you something important, but you know what- fuck you. When it all ends in tears don’t come crawling back to me.” Barging past him, she decided to not look back. If Drake Walker didn’t want to acknowledge anything that she needed to tell him- there would be no way back for the two of them.

“Ri, wait!”

“Leave her. Drake, what the fuck is up with you?” Liam snapped towards his teammate after overhearing the raised voices. As Riley left, she shook her head and provided a deflated expression. Olivier had explained to Liam about Amy just before the match had officially begun. He was determined to help his friends out- but now was unsure as to how to do that.

“Would you leave Liv if you was in my situation? No, I didn’t think so. The blonde bimbo arrived yesterday with her bags packed. I’m stuck with her. I’ve lost Riley for good even without that outburst.”

“Drake, nobody knows about my true relationship with Olivia. We seem like the ‘Posh and Becks’ of Cordonia. But we have an open relationship. You and Riley are different -that is true love, fate. People are fucking with you both for revenge. Next time she tries to explain something to you, listen to her. Trust me. Trust her.”

****

Later on that evening, it was like mission impossible avoiding the paparazzi for Liam and Riley. Meeting in secret, Olivier then joined them in a secluded location. Out of the way of prying eyes. Using a rental car, there would be no reason for anybody to follow them. They had one aim- to warn Drake about Amy. The objective, go to the cabin to do this. Debating whether or not to just blurt the information out? Talk in a civil manner? Would Amy still be there too? Whatever was to happen, it needed to be done.

“So you two, did you both prefer it in the UK or here?” Liam asked breaking the silence surrounding the car journey.

“Neither, by the sounds of it Cordonia is as bad as Manchester for the drama. I’m glad I wasn’t here when Xavier was, I’d have killed him for all of what he put you through, Ri. But enough about us, Liam what about you? Would you ever move clubs?”

“Never say never. But at the moment I’m content where I am.”

Shortly after the brief drive, they arrived at Drake’s cabin- but remained in the car for a bit. Rehearsing what exactly they was going to say, creating different scenarios. After a while, they agreed to just be spontaneous. Riley and Olivier walked to the front door, or rather dragged themselves there. Both feeling slightly nervous about seeing the devil again after all of these years. Knocking quietly, they waited.

Drake, please can we talk?... I’m sorry about before, but there’s something you need to know....Drake, I know her. We know her. She’s not what she seems.....Amy can be sweet but she’s a psycho.

Shit. I’ve forgotten what to say.

Hearing the door creak open, Riley’s thoughts were cut short. Initial shock to begin with made her body stiffen and her brain turn to mush- not having the ability to function. That was until she witnessed the woman’s cocky smirk.

“Oh it seems we have the wrong address, Olivier. I must have amnesia- I believed that this home belonged to Drake Walker...”

“Have we been transported back to Manchester in the tardis, Riley? Bonjour, Amy - long time no see. How is your bit on the side, Aleksandr Chernyshevsky? Last I heard from him, he was playing for Arsenal. So why are you here? How is little Jenson?”

“Aleksandr must be missing his son. His son who you accused so many of the premier league players for fathering, Jenson. Including Xavier. My Xavier.”

“How nice to see you both. Again. If I was you, I’d leave now. You think that the last few months or in your case Riley- years, have been a nightmare. If you both carry on interfering it will go from bad to worse...” There was a slight distance between Riley and Olivier- but as Amy threatened this he could sense that his friend was about to do something that she could regret.

“You bit-“ Preventing Riley from continuing

“Leave her. Don’t be silly. You know how her mind works. She’s poison.”

“Oh, Olivier - you do make me laugh. Anyone would think with your words that I’m a snake.” Standing infront of Riley- the footballer had wished that it was Drake who had answered the door.

“Riley, it’s not nice to swear or shout. So...Shhh, Drake is putting his son to bed remember. Goodnight to you both.” Slamming the door behind her, she hoped that Drake hadn’t been earwigging. Sitting comfortable on the sofa, Drake finally came downstairs- pouring himself a drink before joining her.

“He’s fast asleep. This is the last night though, Amy. If that’s your real name.”

“Of course it is. I mean, people call me Amz for short. Why would you even suggest that? You saw the paperwork with both of our details on it.” Drake thought long and hard about the paperwork- to begin with the only information he was interested in was viewing the fathers details. After the initial shock, he had studied it as if it was part of some crime evidence. Something just wasn’t ‘adding up’ - especially with what the young boy had mentioned to him during the bedtime story whilst in a daze.

Mommy is lying about the name. I want to go home.

“I did indeed see the paperwork. Some things just don’t add up- that’s all. Maybe I’m just paranoid?”

“Well, don’t be. I know that you are still heartbroken over, Rachel....” Purposely mentioning the wrong name, she had hoped that this little ‘mistake’ would help with her plan succeeding.

“It’s, Riley! And I don’t want to talk about her with you when you don’t know her...” That’s what you think.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you....” Providing him with an ‘over the top’ hug, she hoped that being affectionate could be the key to his heart. “But I’m always here if you need to talk. We have a son together. Nothing more. Unless you wanted more that is. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Amy... wait!” Pausing for a moment, he knew to trust his own mind. “Do you want a drink with me?” A drunk mind always speaks the truth.

****

After leaving Drakes, Riley felt like a failure - the men could sense that in the morbidly silent car ride home. Both trying to begin any conversation to get her to respond, with no luck. Olivier had even brought up a story that had always made her laugh. It included how she had tortured him when wasn’t completing his physio correctly. Listening to Spice Girls on a loop.

“Ri, just leave it. Drake isn’t that stupid. He will soon find out the truth. We will bring this bitch down.” Liam said in a determined tone of voice, Olivier agreeing as they arrived at the Rys’s mansion.

“How long will it take us to do that though, Liam?” In all honesty he didn’t know the answer- but felt the need to remain positive for everyone that was involved.

“We’ve all managed between us all to cover up two murders. I promise you, once the truth is out regarding this child - the club will not have anymore scandals. We will remain the best team in Cordonia- and redeem any past mistakes. We’re all in this together.”

“As much as I like Leo...you’d make the better captain, Liam. Thank you for all your help.” Gently kissing him on the cheek, Liam held her tight for a while.

****

Six months later...

Prison time for Apples player? Can his year become any worse than it’s already been? I’m surprised he is still being chosen to play.

Sex scandal- one of the brunette beauties is apparently pregnant? Who is she pregnant with? She seems to be making her way through the team.

Divorce rumours for one of the Apples ‘golden couples’!

Drug scandal and prostitutes!

Match fixing?

Secret relationship uncovered!

Apples player disappears! Where is he? Why has he gone? What are the Apples going to do now?

Ex WAG dies mysteriously. The third person linked to the team. Who’s next on the ‘hit list’?

What does all of this mean for the Apples? They’ve had a rough six months between them all ever since the love child scandal with Walker. A few of the players are playing in the World Cup friendly between Cordonia and France tonight- I wouldn’t place any money on Cordonia winning which has the majority of the Apples players. It would go down the gutter like the club is.

Bertrand slammed the laptop screen down. Almost smashing it. It was bad enough having the commentators criticism during matches. But now every social media platform was joining in at any opportunity. His team wasn’t the only team to have scandals. In his mind he described it all as ‘tragic’ and ‘unlucky’. For some reason the paparazzi were just attracted to them. Like a bad smell. Focusing his gaze onto his young son, he hoped that Bartie would avoid the footballer lifestyle in the future.

No more scandals. No more shit. Think positive, Bertrand! We’ve had enough of that. No wonder I’m prematurely turning grey. Tonight is going to be a good night.

“Bertrand, are you okay?”

“I’m dandy, Sav. Is the babysitter here?”

“Yes.” Studying her husbands tense body, she really wished that he would and could retire early. The stress that he had was causing issues not only with the team but with his marriage. “You need to calm down, my love. Riley is the same. You’re both panicking but neither of you are involved with the national team. It’s a day off for the two of you.”

“No, but my reputation is. My players who have all caused scandals are playing- minus one because he’s gone awol. Your brother should have done a disappearing act instead! All of this shit happened after his love child scandal. He’s a lia-“ Hearing the familiar voice call for his wife- Bertrand prevented his vicious tongue from continuing. Taking a deep breath- he lead his wife downstairs, where they were greeted by a smiley face. An expression that was cleverly hiding/masking a fusion of mixed feelings.

“Hello, Riley. Sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“I was just going to wait in the car, but I’m desperate for the toilet. May I use it, please?”

“Well I’m not going to allow you to ruin my floor am I? I can order a taxi so you don’t have to drive.”

“Bertrand, I’m fine driving. I’m not drinking and you both know why. So I may as well do it. I’ll be two minutes.” Bertrand began pacing the room, Riley’s ‘two minutes’ seemed to last a lifetime. Eventually she joined the Beaumont’s before making their way towards her car. Riley completely oblivious to the tension between the married couple during the drive spoke positively about the upcoming match. All Bertrand could think about was which person would cause the next possible scandal.

****

Euphoria echoed around the stadium in central Cordonia. Even with all of the scandals, there was still that slight support from ‘die hard fans’.

In the tunnel, players from both sides were psyching themselves up- it was only a friendly but the French side apart from Olivier were providing snide remarks to their opponents.

“Bonne Chance! Just ignore my brothers. Ce sont des trous.” Olivier said to Drake - hoping that the match would end a draw and finish in a civil manner. Tonight he was playing piggy in the middle- wanting to stay loyal to his national team as well as his current team.

“Whatever, Berger!”

“What he means, is good luck to you too - Olivier. Isn’t that right, Drake?”

“Merci, Captain! I’ll catch up with you after the match...” Watching the French team make their way towards the pitch, Drake turned to his friend as soon as Olivier was out of view.

“Rys! I can speak for myself. I can say what I want. I’d have thought that out of everybody I could trust you to defend me. Not belittle me. These last few months you’ve been practically non existent to me.”

“I’m sorry about that. I’ve been busy dealing with my own shit. Your issues have been self inflicted. Now grow some balls and don’t fuck this match up. Be civil with everyone- including Olivier. He’s done nothing wrong to you. I’m relying on you tonight and so is Bradshaw. You need to redeem yourself. You’ve been given this opportunity to play tonight by our manager- unlike Bertrand who’s kept you benched all of these months.”

“Don’t you think that I feel shit about myself as it is without that wanker punishing me? He may be my brother in law but I hate him. I’ve lost everything. Everyone. I needed you L-“ Before Drake could continue, Maxwell came bounding over. Hyper as always.

“Guys... quick question before we go on to the pitch... Why is Olivier wearing blue and out there with the French team? He’s one of us.”

“Because he’s fucking French you absolute dipstick!” Drake snapped towards a confused Maxwell. Eventually he laughed at himself. At his own stupidity. As Drake was still scowling, and rolling his eyes - Maxwell decided to defend himself. Which was something that he rarely did. “Hey! Don’t take your shit out on me. I forgot. Jesus, Drake. You know I’m not the brightest person. It’s not my fault that you’ve messed your life up. No wonder, Riley doesn’t talk to you anymore. I’m beginning to think about doing the same if you continue to talk to me like I’m a piece of shit!”

“For your information, Beaumont.... Ri has spoken to me. A lot more than any of you have!”

“Oh, really?” Drake gulped as Maxwell asked this in a sarcastic manner. Knowing full well that he was lying with his previous statement regarding Riley- he wished that it was true. That she would talk to him more often. At this moment in time, receiving the odd text from her was better than nothing. Baby steps, he kept reminding himself.

“Yes, she came to visit me in the cell. I didn’t ask her to- but she did. She still loves me, I know deep down that she does.” The two men looked at each other not knowing what to say. Not needing a reason to cause Drake to possibly ‘rage’ again. Maxwell knew that he was already a target for Drake’s mouth to sprout abuse towards- so decided to inform his friend about some home truths.

“When you was arrested... well... she may have come to visit you. To talk to you. But that’s all it was, Drake. Since then, Riley has dealt with a lot. She’s having a good life now- actually dating again. We only know because Savannah let it slip when she was drunk.” Remaining silent, not knowing how to respond- many questions were now floating throughout Drake’s mind. Forcing himself onto the pitch, he looked up into the crowd and immediately spotted Savannah and Riley whispering in each other’s ears. Laughing. Smiling. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had witnessed Riley looking so cheerful. Thinking back to the last words that she had physically spoken to him - he now knew that he needed to get his act together. If not only for his sake, but for everybody.

Forget about the past. Bertrand has tried to sort your shit out. I don’t know if he has succeeded or not. But for now, you need to publicly apologise to the fans as well as the man that you could have potentially killed.