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ingravinoveritas · 2 years ago

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Well hello ✨

I saw your response to Michael's Christmas post and I wanted to add something to that conversation that I've been thinking about since I saw it. I know he's been MIA lately because of the play in Australia but the post, and I think you mentioned this maybe, sort of gives feral sheen vibes... I think he is a little quirky, especially when it comes to twitter and sort of playing to the fans. This certainly was nowhere near as bad as what I've seen from past years but it was a little weird. I'm sure he's probably just tired from working and christ only knows what's going on with APAT and company, especially because they brought the kids. The baby is like practically brand new still... Don't know who thought it was a good idea for APAT and Co. to tag along but I digress, that's another story for another day. Anyway, I thought it was strange, as did a lot of other people it seems, that he tacked 'Merry Christmas from Us' on the end of the post Us? ??? Who is Us? APAT and your children? You and David and Georgia? Like, what in the hell? I get not having the kids in the picture, that's cool, but if you're gonna go out of your way to say "From us" why not include a least some of "us" in said picture? Of course, there's 101 ways to explain it away like APAT was sleeping, or she was busy (doing what, we'll never know), or he was alone, or whatever you wanna think. But the question is, why not wait so you can get a picture together to make a post like that? Because I bet all the money I have he doesn't even think to take pictures with her. Not now. Not before. and probably not in the future. Seriously, what pictures of the two of them have you ever seen that hasn't been taken by APAT herself, paps or red carpet photographers, or an outside friend; someone like Georgia? I can't think of one. Maybe someone else has seen it? Am I asking for a Unicorn here? Probably... So, with that being said, the main point I wanted to make was, I think he was purposely vague with the "us" description and posting the solo picture. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want her face attached to his social media with personal messages like "Merry Christmas from Us"--which begs the point, why say it in the first place? because he thinks he has to? because it would look suspicious otherwise? wonder why that would be??-- Anyway, he's vague because maybe one day, their won't be an "us" at least not with him and APAT. This is another one of those moments that I can't remember if he's ever posted a picture of him and her anywhere or even just her on his twitter? Retweeted anything she's done? I mean, Dude? It's not looking good. So, anyway, it makes sense (at least in my head) that he would leave it vague and generic so that in the future, it works with anybody he's with. I don't see him staying with her forever, which is sad. I mainly feel sorry for the kids tbh, but I just can't see it. I know that doesn't mean anything and at this point, as much as I don't really vibe with her, I'd rather them stay together in the long run (so long as they're not being toxic to each other and in the house) so the kids can have some sort of a semblance of having a home life with both parents. I I think down the line, all of the generic posts, the vague messages and things like that will come back around again and make more sense if they ever do breakup. Maybe I just over analysis everything but with past track records, it was practically calling my name lol

(This is in response to this post, for those who might’ve missed it.)

Hello, Anons! I appreciate you writing in to share your thoughts on that post. I’ve had multiple people reach out to me privately before and since then with similar thoughts, so you are very much not alone in noticing Michael’s holiday post/AL’s lack of one. I’ve also just gotten an Anon from Australia offering some very interesting tidbits about Michael and his behavior leading up to the opening of Amadeus, so I am going to answer that separately (and try not to have too much overlap between these two responses).

Anon #1: I completely agree with you, re: Michael’s quirky/”feral” presence on Twitter in the past. The picture he posted this year was very much a callback to 2019 when he did the 12 Days of Sheenmas thing, and was much more heavily involved with the fandom/being who he really is on Twitter than right now.

I also think it’s worth noting that for the last two Christmases, he’s been with David, at least in the time leading up to it. In 2020, he and David appeared on Graham Norton together to promote the second series of Staged (after having been apart and not seeing each other for months due to lockdown). Then last year, Michael and David were filming the second season of Good Omens in Scotland both before and after the holidays.

Michael was also doing interviews to promote Last Train to Christmas; despite that, he spent a bunch of them talking about and/or to David. (And that’s not even getting into the “Other Wife” incident with Georgia on her birthday, the day after Christmas.) We could also see the effect that spending so much time with David in the months prior had on Michael--how glowy he was, how happy and centered and just in a very positive head space overall.

So if we posit that everything about David and Wales represents “home” and “comfort” to Michael, then everything about Christmas this year was the opposite of that. Michael is in a foreign country that he’s never been to before, where the seasons are all topsy-turvy (for someone accustomed to cold/snow on Christmas, that is), and I would think that alone would lead to one feeling pretty disoriented. But he’s also playing a leading role in this huge production, and has AL and two small children (one of which is a seven month-old baby) along with him on top of all that, and that unquestionably makes everything much more stressful.

Going back to his Twitter post, I keep thinking about what you mentioned, the use of the word “Us.” We’ve seen that phrase crop up in the context of Michael and David on two recent occasions: 1) Michael talking about David’s only “bad habit” at MCM Comic Con; and 2) in Staged 3 episode 3, when David and Georgia are in the shower while Michael is in the car and David says “I was me before we were us!” My thought is that “us” isn’t something that exists just because you say “us”...it’s something that develops over time. It’s something that happens naturally because two people have become so inextricably intertwined with each other that it’s hard not to think of them as a single unit. I hadn’t even thought of what you said, which is that the “Us” in Michael’s tweet could refer to anyone, even him/David/Georgia. But the one thing I do know is that I don’t think of Michael and AL as “us.” I could see his “us” referring to the kids, but I don’t get that same sense with AL. There is him, and there is her, separately, rather than as one. It’s not hatred or dislike, but rather indifference, as you said, Anon #2. Contrast that with Michael and David, who have repeatedly talked about the connection they’ve formed and how there is no Aziraphale without Crowley and so forth. Michael and David saying “we” and “us” about each other is so unbelievable precisely because it’s not unbelievable. The emotions between them are so strong and powerful, and are reflected in the way they see themselves.

Ultimately, I think what it comes down to is that there are any number of reasons why Michael didn’t include AL in the picture he posted (such as the reasons you gave, which do seem entirely plausible to me, as I think he has purposely has kept his Twitter free from any pictures or references to her), but there is also a lot more happening than we even know. What’s been shared publicly is already weird/strange enough for folks to notice (going by the Anons I’ve gotten, at the very least), so whatever is really happening is undoubtedly far, far more complicated.

But I am with you in thinking that Michael and AL will not stay together forever. As I said before, that “us” that is so important in a relationship seems entirely absent with them, and I unfortunately don’t see that changing anytime soon. The only thing I will disagree with you on is them staying together “for the kids.” I think it is far better for parents to be not together as a couple but still effectively and cooperatively co-parenting than to be together and miserable, even if they try to hide it around the kids. What matters most is doing what is best for those kids, and even if Michael’s relationship with AL does not last, I think he will always be there for the girls.

Anon #1, there is no need to apologize for over-analyzing. I appreciate that you and Anon #2 felt comfortable enough to share your thoughts with me, and I hope my response was helpful. Thanks for writing in! x

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #i can also think of two recent instances of her tweeting that he could've responded to #her talking about 'Sheen booty' on a reply to someone else #and her obnoxiously butting in to a tweet about his ALOTO speech to mention giving birth to Mabli #just really weird that he didn't respond to or even acknowledge either of those #especially when you think about how he interacted with Sarah all the time on Twitter #the more i think about it the weirder this all seems #anna lundberg #discourse

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banjoandthepork · 3 years ago

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I went down a bit of a rabbit hole tracking down some old Francie Shwartz interviews. I am fascinated by whatever toxic concoction of bad vibes was going on in Summer 1968 Beatledom, and while I'm very aware Francie is an unreliable source, I'm insatiably curious. It was hard to find this stuff so I'm posting some links here in case it helps people who want to read it, too. I feel like she consistently gets close to saying things but then kind of veers around saying anything substantive. There are also points in interviews where it reads like she is very informed by other people's writings on the band and general received wisdom. This got very long, read more under the cut.

Body Count on the internet archive - missing some pages but the Paul chapter is intact. This is a strange read, it's like there are huge [scene missing] chunks of stories left out, and the sense of timeline is hard to follow. In that way, I suppose it does remind me of hazy summer days melting into each other when you're a young twenty something just hanging out all the time. There are so many strange little tidbits- on her second night in London she went to a club, met Paul's brother, and gave him a silver roach clip? There's very little explanation about how she actually ended up moving in with Paul at Cavendish- I feel like that would be a very specific memory worth including? To be honest, after reading this chapter my only thought was "that was exhausting, I literally can't understand how that entire situation lasted a couple of months."

Interview on About.com "Oldies Music" page (via Wayback Machine)- interesting, but again, devoid of the kind of details I would expect. This answer in particular drives me wild, because if she is going to remember them in great detail when she's 90 throw us a bone here!

What were the White Album sessions like?

The sessions were like a long long dream, punctuated with odd mini-nightmares, and almost always stoned (hashish, mostly - reefer was rarely available in London then). Those sessions are something I'll remember in great detail when I'm 90, in a rocking chair or floating in virtual reality.

Q&As with Francie posted to the Macca-L listserv (via Wayback Machine)- among other questions, the one where Francie tells us what Paul smelled like:

[lynn]

francie, one of the questions macca-listers frequently ask those who have had a "macca encounter" but for which we have yet to get a definitive answer is "how does he smell?"

[Francie]

He's very clean. (Yeah, that was a HDN reference.) My favorite zone: His hair -- it always made me crazy (hope he's not reading this!) because it's so very silky and thick, and smells like a freshly shampooed show dog, and I mean that in the nicest possible way.

As for his personal aroma, his skin had a very very mild, almost morning-sunny scent, but everso subtle. He's one of those people who is so cool on the outside, you can't detect the storm within, and since he rarely lets the strain or conflict show, he also never has that "guy" smell. Strictly no sweat, from head to toe. Even his shoes in the closet - After i thought about this question a while, I realized his "perfume" is his 'cool' made physical. He never needed cologne and if I remember right, used no aftershave. Strictly a soap and water guy whose aroma never aged a day in the life.

1998 "Conversation with Francie Schwartz (via Wayback Machine)- Mostly focused on specific questions about recording sessions:

The text seems to imply that you were present in the very first recording session for the White Album. Did I understand correctly? That would be interesting to add to the Beatles dates collection. After all, it is not reported on Mark Lewisohn's `The Beatles Recording Sessions'.

I saw the chronology you referred to... Lewisohn had to rely on engineers notes and surviving Beatles memories, catching what he could from Neil Aspinall and others. I believe Yoko was at the very very first session, and Paul invited me to the second... I now believe it was a matter of Paul being really shaken by John's insistence on bringing Yoko (he refers to this in his inimitable fashion on the Anthology Video) to the sessions. In other words, Paul's thinking went something like this: If JOHN can bring a weird new woman to sessions, so can I... the difference was, Paul had only met me two or three times before this - and John and Yoko were newly in love...

I looked in my datebook and I think I confirmed I was at Abbey Road starting with Session #2 of the White Album. I went to quite a few sessions, but the most audible record of that is the backing track I sang with George Harrison (Bah-oom shooby doowah) for `Revolution' Take 2. That would have been that second session, which lasted until maybe 2 or 3 am...

Abbyrd.net interview with Francie Schwartz (original website still functional but here's a Wayback Machine link just in case)

Q: There is the persistent story that Jane Asher caught you and Paul together, leading to their breakup. True or false?

A: False. They were on the verge of breaking up when I arrived in London. Right after I met Paul he went to his farm in Scotland, and I believe Jane was with him, and that they were trying to work it out, but failed, because he came on with me as soon as he got back to London. I detail the actual events in the E! TV interview. Bottom line: She did come to the house one morning and knock on the bedroom door... but that was well after she had announced that the engagement was off, on TV. I believe that the "sound bite" psychology is what contributed to the myth that persists even today. It's a simple explanation for a very complicated and hard to condense process that was ongoing.

#the beatles #francie schwartz #body count #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

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hi! ik sojourner's already ended but i have an(other?) idea in case u ever pick it up since i love ur albedo 😳😳 ok so

what abt a reader who is rlly excited abt alchemy, but they avoid talking abt it bc they start rambling and stuttering and stumbling over their words bc they're so excited? they get assigned/asked to go w/ albedo bc they're rlly good at alchemy too, but they end up fidgeting a lot, muttering and stopping just a few words in before their volume rises and giving short answers when w/ him bc they're afraid of rambling (since they do it to think better when alone, sometimes insulting and arguing w the objects when they don't get the expected result) & being seen as annoying or unprofessional?? i'd like to see how he reacts to these and what he'd think!! and how or when he discovers the reason reader is acting like that

it's kinda (a lot, rlly skowkskdk i always have ideas but never write them) specific, but i rlly like the idea!! i'd love to see what u do w/ it if u ever pick it up in the future :D hope you're staying hydrated and well🥺🥰 -🌌

What do you mean Sojourner's already ended, Sojourner is eternal, Sojourner is forever-

Kidding aside, this is too cute to pass up, even if it's quite a lot! Cute Albedo brainrot moments always please. It might be too much sometimes but I hope you enjoy my interpretation of it! Scenarios format! Starry night, oh I'm always hydrated, thank you and I hope you're well!

For the Record

Albedo working with a Reader that's highly enthusiastic about alchemy but insecure about rambling... (masterlist)

You dealt with Alchemy a year before the Kreideprinz entered Mondstadt, your attunement to the mystic arts baffling and intriguing you every time. During that period, you're not really sure of what art you're doing but in the end, you kept doing great that the people had acknowledged your talents.

Through your own effort and self-study even if unnamed, you managed to put your talent into this art of Alchemy and created discoveries regarding powders and mineral-focused ingredients. It was a shame there was no one to share it to, and when you talk to scholars/practitioners alike, you end up rambling so much to the point that on their end you barely make sense. Whether this was caused by your eaten words or lax and personalized vocabulary over the matter, you're not sure.

Their confused and judgmental stare haunts you, leaving you alone with your raging thoughts and overworking mind when you just want to learn and expand your discoveries to other people without driving them away. Your enthusiasm is great and all, but it's not enough to make others understand.

So when the Chalk Prince entered Mondstadt, blessing the city with his scholarly knowledge and boundless creations, he easily made a name for himself and in extension the city itself.

Before Sucrose and Timaeus, you were called upon by the Grand Master Varka to accompany Albedo and be his temporary assistant seeing as his field in the division is still quite new and you were the only other 'Alchemist' in town besides him. You're both giddy and nervous, like really, really nervous.

You've heard of Albedo and maybe a caught a glimpse or two, but you've never actually interacted enough to know exactly what he looks like or how he is as a person. All you know is that he's a very, very attractive person overall.

"Good-looking, carries this aura of wisdom around him, he's just really charming," were the words that rang through your mind as you pointedly watched your steps, following the carpets leading to Ordo Favonius' laboratory while Lisa's words rang through your head.

Is he really that kind of person? You've heard that he's quite stoic too, but if he's really that distracting, you're scared that it would be harder for you to focus and help out. Honestly how would you even deal with him when your fields of Alchemy are so different from each other?

You have no idea how long you've been thinking, standing in contemplation in front of the set of double doors that leads to the workshop with nothing but doubt in your mind. But upon realizing the teal gaze of another person silently waiting instead of wooden doors, you figured it was far too long.

"Ah, I'm sorry! I was in my head, I wasn't expecting you to-!" You flailed your hands around comically before abruptly stopping, noticing the now confused stare of Albedo of which are distracted by your hands. Clearing your throat, you extended a hand towards him to shake, trying to stare anywhere but his face. "I'm (Y/N), I'll be your assistant until you're well settled in the city. It's nice to meet you, Ma-"

His hand finds yours in a firm grip, a firm shake so sudden you bit your tongue back, "Albedo, Kreideprinz of the Art of Kemia, but just Albedo is fine, I'll be under your care."

Albedo finds it intriguing and surprisingly not that distracting whenever you talk to yourself or to the ingredients whenever you so much as feel the slightest frustration. "Ugh, this Zinc powder is so stubborn, clingy," you angrily mumbled under your breath as you washed off the blue powder that spilled at your hand, "So, so clingy." Since you're facing the sink, you couldn't see the way he was holding himself from laughing audibly at your amusing antics.

You seemed lively and open, is what Albedo thought when he first met you. But this observation soon shattered when he kept getting hanged upon your abrupt stops when delving into your field, something he was really irked about the first few times. Your art of Alchemy is much different from his and he's wishing that you'd clarify and expound all your learnings to him, but in the end, you somehow step back everytime your words became lengthy.

Are you hiding something? Did you not want him to learn the same arts as yours? If those were the case, he couldn't bring himself to ask a simple question such ad why. Every time it crosses his mind, it brings a purse of a pout to his lips and furrowed eyebrows.

Every response you gave always hints even tiny bits of trivias and tips he's never heard, Albedo always takes note of your spills that always cuts before reaching its climax. "-sorry, yes, this is activated charcoal Geo and Pyro slimes reaction." He lets out an audible sigh upon your retreat, your frustrated mind too occupied to notice.

"Please," his desperation drips in his word when he looks at you with eyes filled with raw emotion you'd never know he'd be able to pull off. Your tightly locked lips only pressed on further at his puppy eyes, "Please continue, I wish to know more about your Alchemy, if you would be so kind."

"It's not really- I'm not really the best at explaining it..." You're almost fidgeting, cheeks aching from tensing and warmth. But he regarded you with a blank stare, forcing you to fill the silence, "If I- If I start, my ramblings may not uhm they're not easy to comprehend... or something."

Albedo had been watching more than he'd like to admit, and he's come to relieved (yet still confused) realization that your treatment with him wasn't his alone. You always step back before things get lengthy, words then cutting short and concise with a steeled expression. Lips caught between teeth.

"I digress," his hand motions to yourself to emphasize his next clause. "As your field and sole practitioner of this art, like my own condition, your word of mouth is the best ground of knowledge."

If he was irritated, he's doing a very good job in hiding it. And even with the respectable yet close distance in between you still felt cornered. This is still your master and it's not professional to refuse a scholarly talk, "The electro crystals when charged... ionized? create sparks, while also producing the same result when smacking- mining!"

The scribbles of his pen against his clipboard as he nods in attention urges you on, realizing his focus and sincere interest on the topic, "So when you put the little tidbits or even powdered version in a beaker thingy, depending on the material, they interact with the spark. Honestly, I'm unsure yet how lethal it is but if you put the sparks under fire too, they make like those makeshift gunpowder as well as additional reactions such as-!"

The lilt and proceeding high pitch in your voice usually signifies the approach of your insecurity as well as the climax of your enthusiasm. At this point, you pull your hand up to shut your mouth forcefully, and when Albedo really detests the abrupt end of the conversation his hand would shoot forward to grasp your own.

He'd intertwine your fingers to distract, before urging you to continue with a challenging stare, as if daring you to use your other hand to pull that off again. This whole scene felt oddly scandalous, but oh boy does it send your mind into a bambling, overloaded mess. A heated head forces your lips open even if they sometimes come out in a jumbled string, he learns to decipher them.

The more you get used to or feel more comfortable, Albedo uses that fondness skillfully whenever he wants. "Can you tell me more about the scarlet chunks from Dragonspine?" He throws it so casually in the silence as you two work back to back in your stations, without a beat as your mind is partially preoccupied, you answered into a narrative of trivia. It almost feels like you're talking to the flames of the bunsen while you wait, but Albedo smiles at the now filled silence as he listens with divided attention.

He really likes your voice, and the word of wonders you bring along with you.

"For the record, I don't mind it at all," his breath hovers on your lips, cold and prickly, "Whatever comes out of these lips, I want to hear it all."

That last part eheh

Woah, this went long. Like reader babbling hahaha. I said I'm gonna speedrun, not freaking write this long smh

@zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop @tartuu @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @albaedhoe @xiaophilia @heisenwurst @childe-simp-exe

#genshin impact x reader #Albedo x Reader #exile.goblet #exile.flower #sojourner special #genshin impact #imagines #gender neutral #fluff #anon 🌌

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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago

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Ocean Eyes, Cherry Lips, Ivory Keys

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2747

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol, I think that’s all

A/N: This is a headcanon I’ve had for a while that I’ve been wanting to write about 40s!Bucky, pre-War. I kinda want to write a series about it, so that might happen. For now, enjoy this little tidbit I’ve written, with the prompt of Occasion for HBC’s Lucky in Love Day 18! (This isn’t beta’d so please excuse mistakes.)

He’s something of a celebrity. A living legend. A God amongst humans. Starting as a kid in Brooklyn, his fanbase rapidly grew, expanding to Queens, Manhattan, even parts of New Jersey, just in the past few years.

You don’t get it. So what if he’s got cool blue eyes, soft chocolate hair, and a charming smile? Who cares if he’s got smooth moves and even smoother words? He’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. A talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him, but still just a man.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Most everyone knew his name, but there was a lot of mystery surrounding the actual character.

You just don’t see what all the fuss is about. You’ve never personally met him, or even seen him, but you know people who have. Your friend’s cousin even claims to have danced with him once. Not that that would be hard. You hear he’s never danced with the same bird twice, and, considering most start dancing in their teenage years, that’s a lot of dames.

It’s not that you’re not curious about him - if he’s actually as dashing as they say - but you’re not about to stop your life for him like some of your friends. They’re obsessed with getting his attention. With seeing if they’d be the one. The one to finally chain him down and tame him. The one he’d go steady with.

It feels like that’s all you ever talk about anymore. It was amusing at first, but now it’s just getting annoying. It’s been three years since that day in March of 1938, when your roommate ran into your room, plopping down onto your bed, before ranting and raving about the new ocean eyed piano player at her favorite bar. And since then, he’s been in your life without actually being in your life.

Speaking of, here you are. Listening to Lucy, MaryAnne, and Jean gushing over the man, trying to enjoy your milkshake.

“I heard from Sally that Thomas said that he knew the brother of one of his friend’s in high school!”

“That can’t be true! I heard from Billy, who heard from Martha, who was told by Ben, that he only had, like, one friend in high school.”

“You’re kidding, right? There’s no way a man like that had only one friend.”

“I hear he does boxing and that’s why he’s got a body sculpted like a Greek God.”

“Oh my God! MaryAnne!”

You rub your temples, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as the three burst into fits of giggles. If you have to hear one more word about-

“I heard he’s going to be playing at Georgie’s on Friday!”

Gasps echoed around the table. “No way! Georgie’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, this actually intriguing you. Georgie’s is a popular little hole in the wall, on the edge of being a speakeasy, which doubles as a pub and a dance hall in Brooklyn. It’s one of the best hang outs for kids like you and your girls, but it isn’t very high class. Maybe that’s why it’s one of the best. “Isn’t Georgie’s a little…cheap for him? He’s been playing at the best bars and restaurants for a while now.”

“It’s a classic in Brooklyn. Near his home, probably.”

“Do you think he lives near there?!”

“Ooo! Maybe we could find out!’

You scoff. “That,” gesturing to Lucy with your glass, you take a sip of your milkshake. “Is called stalking, my friend.”

Jean waves towards you dismissively. “I think he lives near Tin Pan Alley. That’s where he plays the most, after all. Georgie’s was probably just an old hang out for him and his pals.”

“Wait, wait,” you shake your head, a thought popping into your head. You turn to Lucy, confused. “How’d you find out he’s playing at Georgie’s anyways? Isn’t part of his whole act not telling anyone where he’s playing?”

Giving you a smirk and a wink, Lucy shrugs. “I’ve got my connections.”

You roll your eyes again, turning your attention back to your milkshake. “So?!” MaryAnne squealed. “We’re going on Friday, right?”

“Hell yes!”

“Absolutely!”

“Not.” You mumble, causing the other three to stare at you incredulously.

“Not?!”

“I’m not wasting my Friday night going to see some fella you all have a crush on. Especially when he might not even be there.”

Your friends groan, exchanging glances. “And what’re you gonna do?” Jean crossed her arms with a pointed look on her face. “Sit down and read a book like you always do?”

You huff. “I like reading, sue me. I don’t get a lot of time to myself. You know that new girl’s been gumming up the works and I’ve had to stay late to fix her mistakes all week.”

“This is exactly what you need, then! Come out, have a drink, jive a little-”

You look up at that, an amused kind of smirk on your lips. “Jive? Me and my clumsy ass?”

You all laugh. “Okay, so maybe not dance, but c’mon! It’ll be snazzy, you’ll see!”

“Fine, fine.” Standing up with a sigh, you collect your things, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “I’ve gotta scram.”

“We’ll see you on Friday, right?”

You give a small smile, shooting them a wink. “I guess I can make it.”

***************

Friday comes a lot faster than you anticipate. You dress up; a navy blue dress going to your knees with white, heart shaped buttons and a bow around the waist. The shoes you’re wearing are your nice black and white Mary Janes. Lips painted deep red, and hair pinned back in loose curls, you glance over yourself in a mirror. You’ll admit; you look damn good. You don’t wanna go, but you might as well try to have some fun since you are.

It’s a cool evening, early May meaning the summer humidity hasn’t hit just yet. You didn’t even think about bringing a coat, but you start to regret the decision as you start walking. MaryAnne, who you actually room with, already left, being way too excited to stay put.

It doesn’t take you long - you live on the border of Queens and Brooklyn - but your feet are more sore than you’d like when you arrive.

“I knew you’d come!” Lucy grins, coming up besides you and linking her arm in yours. MaryAnne comes up on your other side and does the same to your free arm.

“Where’s Jean?”

“Where do you think? She already found a Joe to swing with.”

You laugh. “Of course she has! So is your dreamboat here?”

The grins that are immediately on their faces answer your question and they quickly drag you inside.

It’s hot and crowded and dim. Skirts with their beaus, guys with their broads, swinging and dancing to the lively music of the band on stage. Smoke from cigarettes, pipes, and cigars is evident in the air as they neared the bar portion of the building, mixing with the boisterous sound of laughter and chatter.

“Everyone’s talking about it! He’s here, but he hasn’t played yet. We’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of him, but we think he’s in a back room.” The dramatic sigh MaryAnne gives makes you laugh a little.

“Okay, khaki whackies. Let’s get a drink.”

You, just as you thought would happen tonight, are left alone at the bar by your friends who quickly found partners to dance with. A few men asked you, but you have never been a good dancer.

You’re lost in thought, running a finger gently around the rim of your cup, when a voice sounded besides you, pulling you out of your thoughts, a slight rasp to the otherwise mellifluous voice.

“You gonna drink that, doll, or just stare at it all night?”

You raise an eyebrow at the jest, turning your head, only to have your breath hitch. What a specimen. Ocean blue eyes, fluffy brown curls, cherry pink lips. A white dress shirt is pulled over his broad chest, gray dress pants hugging thick thighs, matching suit jacket across wide shoulders. He has a blue, black, and white plaid tie around his neck and you can see the edges of his blue suspenders under his blazer. He’s put together, but it’s nothing special, a normal Sunday best suit, that much you can tell.

“Uh, not all night.” You look back to the drink, before looking at the clock with a hum, tilting your head playfully. “Maybe another hour.”

He chuckles, gesturing for the bartender. “Tell me this, sweetheart. What is a beautiful dame like yourself doin’ drinking alone?”

“I’m not very good on my feet, I’m afraid.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your drink.

“Don’t come here often, then?”

“Only for special occasions.”

“What’s the special occasion this evenin’, sugar?”

You shrug. “My friends dragged me here. They’re practically in love with this guy who’s supposedly playing the piano tonight. James Barnes. Have you ever heard of him?”

He chuckles, a grin pulling his lips upwards. “Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of ‘im. Not a big fan yourself?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. I just don’t understand the fascination with him. Let the man be.”

“I agree.” He hums with a nod, grabbing the glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of him. “I actually know him.”

“Really?” You look at him in interest.

He tilts his head with a smile towards you that makes you melt. “Yeah. He feels the same. He just likes playin’. That’s all. He didn’t want all the attention. He gets enough without that.”

You raise an eyebrow, finishing off your drink. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m Bucky by the way.”

You eye his hand, grabbing it after a second, letting him bring your knuckles to his lips. “Y/N.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, mama.” He shifts his body more towards you, running a hand through his hair. “You said you ain’t fond of dancin’?”

Shaking your head, you quickly defend yourself, “no, no. I like dancing. I’m just not very good. Got two left feet.”

He smirks, tongue poking out to run over those plump lips of his. “Well, with the right partner, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Are you asking me to dance, Bucky?”

“Not if you’re gonna say no.” He responds with a toothy grin, leaning his elbows on his knees.

You sigh and shake your head. “I’m afraid tonight’s not your night, pal. I just can’t seem to get myself in the mood.”

He hums, leaning back. “Is it the music? Too fast for you?”

“I wouldn’t mind if they slowed it down some, I suppose.”

He smiles cheekily. “I can help with that. Hold on.”

You grin at him, nodding. “I’ll be here.”

Watching him stand and make his way over to the stage, you quirk an eyebrow. He seems to know the band well, if the handshakes and the claps on the back have anything to say about it. He says something to the lead, who nods with a grin, shooting him a wink. Bucky laughs, but you can see a tint of pink dusting his cheeks, making you wonder what they were saying.

He makes his way back over as the band shifts tones, the animated swing changing to a slow jazzy number. Bucky beams at you, holding out his hand as he approaches. “Care to dance?”

You purse your lips, narrowing your eyes, but taking his hand anyways. “How’d you do that? Do you work here?’

“Uh…somethin’ like that.” He states vaguely, leading you to the dance floor with the other swaying couples. Pulling you as close as appropriate, his hands resting politely on your waist, he starts moving you side to side.

“That’s not ominous.” You place your hands on his shoulders, following his lead as you stare at your feet.

He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your gaze. “I’ve gotcha, doll. I won’t let you fall.”

“I’m going to step on your feet.” You explain.

“Nah. You’re doin’ great. You just need to get outta your head. Relax a little. Tell me something about yourself.”

You hum. “Like what?”

“Anything.”

“Uh, okay…I have a roommate who is one of the girls who begged me to come, I’m a secretary - I know, boring - and…I dunno. I like reading.”

His eyes lighten at this. “Reading? Whaddya like to read?”

“Different things. Depends on my mood. I’m re-reading The Hobbit for, like, the twentieth time right now.”

“I love The Hobbit.” Bucky grins, making you smile back. “I read it almost as soon as it came out.”

“Me too! I was planning on reading it tonight but,” you gesture around. “Here I am.”

Bucky lips pull up softly, his hold on your waist tightening ever so slightly as he pulls you closer. “Well, as much as I love that book, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

Giving him a little tease, you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Eh…I think I’d rather be at home.”

He pinches your side gently, making you squeal and squirm. “That hurt, sugar. That physically hurt me. C’mon, mama, your gonna say you aren’t havin’ a good time?”

“I just met you ten minutes ago.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you think we’re movin’ too fast, I won’t introduce you to my folks just yet.”

You laugh, blinking up at him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Buck.”

The two of you rock for a little while longer, before the band stops, announcing they’re taking a break and a special guest is going to play a little something.

“Maybe James Barnes is here.” You say, a bit of intrigue lacing your tone, trying to see through the crowds of people who started gathering around the stage to catch a glimpse of the charming pianist. “I see why he would be over the attention.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs, almost sadly, giving you an apologetic look. “Listen, I’ve gotta go work for a bit, but I’ll be right back.”

You smirk. “So you do work here?”

“Um…kinda. You’ll see.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, but he’s kissing your knuckles and walking away. You frown, but can’t think more on it when three young women are on you, babbling about their dates.

“Who were you dancing with, Y/N? He was cute!”

You roll your eyes, feeling yourself heat up, and not because of the many bodies in the vicinity. “Just…some guy.”

“C’mon, c’mon! We’ve gotta get a good spot to actually see him!”

You huff, letting the drag you through the crowd, shoving their way towards the front just as a familiar deep voice spoke.

“Thanks for comin’ out, everyone. I hope your havin’ a good night. Let’s get this hop started, yeah?”

Your eyes widen when you finally catch sight of the man sitting at the piano with a polite smile on his features. He catches your eye and shoots you a wink, before his fingers start flying over the keys. The beam that he gets while tickling the gleaming ivories, his azure eyes lighting up, and you can’t fight the smile you get. He looks so relaxed, so invigorated, that it makes you happy just watching him.

“Oh my God! Weren’t you dancing with him?!” Lucy shook your shoulder obnoxiously, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, mesmerized with the way he played like it’s the only thing he wanted to do with his life. Which, as you remember his words, ‘he just likes playin’. That’s all.’ you figure it is the only thing he wanted to do with his life.

You just danced with James Barnes…and he’s just as perfect as everyone says.

You’re still trying to wrap your head around it, your friends jumping around you, trying to get every little detail of him from you, when your heart skips a beat and your brain malfunctions. Bucky had started up another song, slower and more intimate, and he’s looking right at you.

You find yourself doing something you never thought you would; you’re swooning over James Barnes, smiling like an idiot, heat blooming up your neck and flaming your face. And yes, he’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. But he’s a talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him.

And now that includes you.

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #bucky barnes x reader #40s!bucky barnes x reader #40s!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #40s!bucky barnes #40s!bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #40s!bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky barnes x y/n #hbc lucky in love #pianist!bucky barnes #💙🦾#💙🦾🎹#💙🦾📻#💙🦾📻🎹

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megalo-station · 2 years ago

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why do you think rouge didn't tell shadow who he was in heroes herself was it a plot hole or do you think it was something else

Oops sorry anon, I guess I forgot I even had this ask sitting in my inbox hjkfdsg hope it's not too late to answer

I honestly don't know why she didn't, I kind of think it's just something the writers didn't really think about and forgot to properly address. The thing is though, in ShTH, he does seem to remember bits and pieces, like what Maria looked like and that he lived in space, but not much else. And all things considered, Rouge didn't know that much more about him by the end of SA2 either. All she really knew were not-completely-true facts about Project Shadow pulled from her work as a spy, plus tidbits that the very obviously mentally unstable Gerald recorded in his final video pre-execution. A LOT of the things Shadow ended up remembering or learning about himself in his own game were things Rouge had no idea about, such as the Black Arms' involvement and a lot of the finer details about GUN's raid on the ARK.

If I had to guess, Rouge probably felt somewhat guilty about how she treated Shadow during SA2 and wanted a fresh start with him, and him having lost his memory was a "happy accident" of sorts as far as that goal was concerned. That said, I think she probably did tell him some of what she knew in between Heroes and ShTH (I think I remember hearing somewhere there's about two or three weeks in between the events of those games), but he wasn't satisfied with the vagueness and the lack of information, so he went off on his own to do his broody thing without her. There's also the fact that during the events of Heroes, Rouge briefly becomes convinced that the Shadow she's working with is just a dime-a-dozen android created by Eggman, so at a certain point she may have even felt it wasn't worth trying to explain details to him or help him since she wanted to find the "real" Shadow. (And of course, once she realized he WAS the real Shadow she was right by his side backing him up in his fight against the Black Arms.)

All in all it's something interesting that I wish the games would have explored a little more, and truth be told it's something I've thought about writing some fanfic about, maybe tying it all together and making some sense of Rouge's actions in the two games, but it's really up to interpretation.

#sonic discussion #wow it's been a while since i've had cause to use that tag #kind of miss the days i was a minor sonic expert on tumblr hjdsk #sonic

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zephycluster · 3 years ago

Text

Precolonial HWS SEA Rant Post, feel free to ignore

If you're still reading, then you're probably looking for evidence or some juicy tidbits to throw back at me or to try and find dirt to cancel me, like typical Tumblr/Twitter. Go ahead, I don't really care.

First off, let me just say that If you like Precolonial South-East Asia AUs, feel free to keep enjoying them. I will respectfully support your passions from afar. This post is just to explain why I don't like it, especially the way they keep insisting/portraying PH in it.

Still here? Then let me begin.

Since the recent confirmation that the ASEAN Six Majors (Can't really say ASEAN 10 atm since it's still missing some people) Were completed and the Ma-Phil-Indo Trio was included, there has been a large surge in 'Precolonial' fanarts and portrayals of South East Asians, those three especially.

Even long, long before, circa 2010's ish, a rather well-known fan universe known as 'Maaf' dealt with their story and how their Author thought their intertwined histories went. Written by (my best guesstimate) an Indonesian writer who wants to explore the old, SEA bond.

When I first stumbled across Maaf (I was in Highschool at the time, around age 16-ish), I took a casual interest in it and tried to read it through. But, I will wholeheartedly admit that at the time, Pre-Colonial cultures of South-East Asia in general, let alone Philippine, did not really interest me that much. The focus (I think) was mostly on Indonesia, a country I didn't really know back then, and the liberal use of 'ancient' names and artwork just made it feel like an entirely Original Work (that needed a degree in History to really appreciate) and not something from Hetalia. I also completely disagreed with what I could gather was the story's portrayal of PH but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Do I hate 'Maaf'? No, I don't hate it. Do I wish I never came across it or that it didn't exist? Of course not. Just because I didn't enjoy it or appreciate it that well doesn't mean I wish any ill toward it, its fans, or its creator.

Fast forward to April 2021, the long awaited inclusion of South East Asia to the canon Hetalia verse. I was happy, the other fans were happy, all was good.

Then started the questionable fanarts, fan theories and fan pairings.

Especially the expansion of Precolonial! PH.

Let's go back to Maaf for one moment. From what I understood of Maaf, PH there was a character who once was like all the other South East Asian cultures, trading with them, all around being a nice family.

But all that changed when the Spaniards attacked, so cry the precolonial buffs. They destroyed everything, ransacked and marginalized the tribes, erased everything that PH was!

Did that happen? ABSOLUTELY. The Spaniards had this vision in mind that they must spread Christianity to all of the 'savage, unchristian heathens' of their realm. :V /s

But back up a second, back to PH's portrayal in Maaf. The way she (yeah, she) was portrayed there was that she was slowly losing her memories of being a 'true' South East Asian and grew more and more westernized in the process, like some sort of Culture-specific Alzheimer's or something.

Firstly, that is seriously depressing, and secondly, I just really don't see that happening.

Here's why.

Point 1: Even before Colonial Masters, Filipinos as a people cannot agree on anything.

I'll just begin this segment with a Philippine proverb that outlines what Filipinos call 'Crab Mentality' or 'Crab Bucket Mentality'.

"You don't need a lid for a container when you're keeping multiple crabs. If you keep at least two crabs together, they will just pull each other down instead of helping each other up."

I don't know how it goes with Indonesian or Malaysian history class, but what I know of my homeland, both pre- and post-colonial history, we were never really 'united' or 'together' in the sense that Indonesia and Malaysia were (from what I assume).

Let me pull up a somewhat related question on r/AskHistorians.

The reason I brought this up as it shows the reasons why, in my opinion, a single entity that is 'Precolonial Philippines-tan' is an impossibility.

The answers are long and would extend this already long post to stupid proportions, so I'll just quote relevant sentences. The link is here for those that wanna deep-dive into the answer.

"All this to say that there wasn't a name used for the entire Philippine islands before the Philippines that people now would agree to. An interesting comparison would be the Holy Roman Empire, which might also be characterized as disparate politico-geographic groups of relatively small size that had a history of relations between each other, but one thing they had that the Philippines did not was a common language, or at least a family of mostly mutually intelligible languages, so that the name Deutschland or Germany isn't terribly offensive to anyone. If you called the Philippines the 'Lupang-Tagalog' or even 'Lupang-Tao' the other ethnic groups would protest."

For those in need of translation, 'Lupang Tagalog' means 'Land of the Tagalogs' and 'Lupang Tao' means 'Land of People', specifically. The first one is already exclusive and offensive, as the Tagalog peoples are but one of many ethnicities here.

And for the 'Lupang Tagalog' suggestion specifically, it's even more offensive as they are the majority ethnicity (not by much, just around 28%) From this chart from Geography Now! It would basically be alienating everyone else in the 72% remainder that isn't 'Tagalog'.

And even 'Lupang Tao', the most generic name in a local language you can think of, would be met with contempt because the name itself is in the Tagalog language.

Just travelling between two individual island groups today would sometimes require a translator because the words can change very rapidly and very drastically. Here's a sample of some differences coming from a friend living in Visayas (in Red) vs. the words I know living in Luzon (In blue).

Ate vs. Manang = Older Sister

Ibon vs. Pispis = Bird

Tumawa vs. Kadlaw = To laugh

Takot vs. Hadlok = Fear

Kain vs. Kaon = To eat

Ngayon vs. Subong = Now, at this point in time

Iyak vs. Hibi/Gibi = to cry

Talampakan vs. Tiil = Foot (in Tagalog, the word retains its 'body part AND unit of measurement' meaning)

Tulog vs. Tuyo = to sleep (Tuyo in Tagalog is either a dried salted fish or 'to dry')

The kicker is that just like Tagalog is just one of many languages here, so too is the language my friend speaks. Ask an entirely new person, like someone from Mindanao, they'll probably have an entirely new set of words.

It's not just Luzon vs. Visayas vs. Mindanao, either. Here's a map listing some of the ethnic groups here.

Even the way they're written differs from location to location.

While we're on the subject of Island divisions, a casual skim across Twitter and Tumblr has shown that their Precolonial PH has been one of the following ancient civilizations: Tondo, Butuan, Sugbu, Namayan. There may have been others but that was what I have found.

Notice how even today, the posters of Precolonial PH can't seem to agree on what he's supposed to be? With Indonesia it's either Majapahit or Srivijaya and Malaysia it's usually Malacca iirc.

What is the big deal? Well, let's go back to the Ask Historians post. "Why didn't the Philippines ever change its name to remove the colonial mark that being named after a Spanish King has?" The answer: "If you suggested something dating to precolonial times, the other ethnic groups would protest."

Since we're on a roll with maps, let me bring this up.

As you can see, the precolonial PH posts have a reason to not be able to agree on one thing, as there is a LOT of options. Do you also see how THAT list is also split up?

It's split up into those aligned with China (Sinified), aligned with India (Indianized), aligned with the Middle East (Islamicized), and no alignment (Animist). Now, let's go back to the main suggestions for which Kingdom/Polity/Civilization/whatever Modern Philippines used to be.

If the Filipino peoples' couldn't agree on something as simple as WHAT TO CALL THE LAND THEY'RE LIVING ON, what more a living, breathing, walking, talking entity that is supposed to be a beacon of all of their 'unified' culture? ESPECIALLY if that entity used to be a currently existing Kingdom/Polity/Rajahnate/Sultanate/whatever.

Tondo? "Of course, always the damn Tagalogs. Tagalog this, Tagalog that. First the capital city, then the language,* THE REST OF US EXIST, YOU KNOW! What about us in Visayas? Mindanao?"

*The national language known as 'Filipino' is just standardized Tagalog*

Butuan? "Wait, you want Butuan to represent us? They're they only Indian-aligned city in the Islam-majority Mindanao! They're not even that many of them! I'm not gonna change my religion!"

Sugbu, the other name for the Rajahnate of Cebu on the map? Lemme bring back my Visayan friend again. According to her, she hails from the Hiligaynon part of Visayas.

"Sure :v and the other islands are what?

Chopped liver?

Not to mention the language and writing barrier helloooo"

And Namayan? Well. I'll let this pic speak for itself.

To summarize, no matter who you pick as Modern PH's previous identity, it will not end well nor be accepted by the other Kingdoms at the time.

"So where does that leave Modern PH, he had to have been ONE of them, right?"

Well, not really. He doesn't HAVE to be one of the Ancient Kingdoms that lasted till the modern day. I mean, predecessor representatives exist in Hetalia canon, after all. Like Modern Greece is a different character from Ancient Greece, Ancient Egypt and Modern Egypt, heck even England and his brothers have a canon mother that was the rep before them.

Or you could even use the same logic that Germany does, in that each specific region has/had its own representative and that Modern!PH is just the 'mediator' between them (cause gawd does PH need one). There could be a Tondo, a Namayan, a Butuan, and a Sugbu, all arguing and this Proto-PH is just trying to make headway in making them all satisfied.

But, even after all this, there is another reason why I personally don't subscribe to the 'Precolonial PH' idea, and by tangential extension, the Indo x Phil pairing.

Point 2: Even without intending to, Precolonial Indo x Phil just comes off as patronizing

This second point is just ENTIRELY personal preference and barely has any facts to back it up.

Again, if you like the pairing and disagree with me, You do you. I will respectfully support you and your passions from a distance.

But for me, Indo being Phil's seme/bae/boyfriend and consistently bringing up precolonial times just comes off as patronizing.

Just one more time, I'd like to point out that I am NOT bashing Indonesia, its people or the subscribers of Indo x Phil. This is just how the pairing feels to ME specifically.

The way I see it, Indo x Phil as a pairing, especially if it extends back into precolonial times, reads the same way as a long-since married couple where the husband/wife CONSTANTLY brings up that ONE outing you had together, or that ONE prom night where you kissed while dancing, even it happened like 30 some-odd years ago and so much more happened since then.

Even in a platonic sense, It reads like two besties where one ALWAYS mentions stuff like 'Yeah but you looked so much cooler back in High School' or 'Back in Grade School you would've known that', or 'Remember back in Pre-school we did X? How could you forget that?'

How does one respond to the notion that no matter what you do now, it will never compare to a past you've already forgotten or barely remember? That the best version of 'you' is already long gone?

"That's because the westerners made you forget your culture! You gotta take it back!"

While it is true, yes, as a collective we barely remember the Kingdom that commissioned the Laguna Copperplate, or created the Banaue Rice Terraces, or created the millennia old bonds that we still share with Indonesia and Malaysia.

But to keep pushing the precolonial identity would be to neglect and cast aside the one REAL binding belief and culture that spans the entirety of these islands we call the Philippines.

We take on all the bad stuff that happens to us, conquer it, and make it our own. Be it natural disasters, foreign powers, or negative stereotypical mentalities.

Yes, we've forgotten the ancient kingdoms of old and are just now digging through the closet for those remnants of the past. Yes, the colonizers imposed that on us, and made us forget. But in the process we've also taken everything that they left behind, everything that they threw at us, and created something that can only come from us.

The lanterns that the Spaniards used to light the way to the morning masses they made us attend became our globally known symbol of Christmas. The junked vehicles that the Americans left behind in World War 2 are now rolling works of art that announce themselves loud and proud on the streets (for better or for worse). The iced dessert recipe that the Japanese forced us to learn while they were occupying the country is now so distinct and famous it is synonymous with us, and is so delicious even Italy has taken notice.

Even after all this? Even after all the 425-ish years total we have been under a foreign power, with all the progress we've made as a country, a people, and a nation, you would still imply our fragmented, jigsaw puzzle state of being in the past was better just because it was pure 'South East Asian' like everyone else?

We might not be as well put-together as Indonesia or Malaysia, but we made this melting pot of angry, leg-pulling, dogpiling, Native, Mestizo, Chinoy, and Fil-Am crabs OURS, damnit!

It's now 4:30 AM and I have work in 5 or so hours. I'll be going to sleep now.

#hws #hws philippines #precolonial philippines #hws theory #hetalia #hetalia world stars #hetalia world series #hetalia headcanons #aph #axis powers hetalia #aph philippines #hetalia philippines #aph hetalia

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helnjk · 4 years ago

Text

Lost In The Night - D.M.

Draco Malfoy x fem!gryffindor!reader

Requested: yes

Ello! Hope your not too busy. If you could, could you write a prompt #42 and a prompt#46 together as in, in one story.. If you could that would be lovely and if you can't no worries! ♥️;

Hey if your requests are open could you do a prompt #42 & promot#46 for draco. Much appreciated!

“what the hell were you thinking?” “who hurt you?”

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Umbridge & her quill, blood, slight angst but with a happy ending!

Summary: Somehow, Umbridge finds a way to ruin everything. Luckily, Draco is there to pick up the pieces and hold you tight.

Prompts are in bold

---

Being in Gryffindor was great. Being a Gryffindor dating a Slytherin, not as great. Being a Gryffindor secretly dating a Slytherin who just so happened to be Draco Malfoy, a little complicated.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Draco, but he chipped away at your armor little by little until he held your heart firmly in his hands.

You could tell that something was different about him around third year, he was less of an entitled prick and actually managed not to bother your housemates much that year. It seemed like he finally managed to get it in his head that he wasn’t any better than the rest of you, despite his pure bloodline.

It was fourth year that you had started actually paying some more attention to him. Your eyes automatically finding him whenever you were in the same room together. He noticed too, sending you discreet smirks that caused a flutter in your stomach. One day in Potions he decided to sit by you instead of his usual seat and you merely raised an eyebrow at him. That was when the note passing began.

Hogsmeade this weekend? He wrote down on a scrap piece of parchment beside his ingredients, pretending to take down notes on what was brewing in his cauldron.

You asking me out on a date, Malfoy? You wrote back, managing to slip it back to him while Snape had his back turned.

Possibly. Was his only reply.

It’s gonna take much more than that for me to say yes.

Neither of you could continue passing this note between yourselves as your attentions turned back to the complicated potions were brewing and Snape had begun making his rounds around the room.

It wasn’t unusual after that for you to find scraps of parchment shoved into your books or between your notes, all containing Draco’s distinct handwriting. The contents of the notes were never the same, sometimes he would tell you about his day, other times he would write down clever little jokes or interesting food combinations for you to try out. Soon, you had found yourself eagerly waiting for these little messages and tidbits of information about the blonde haired boy.

The Astronomy tower is my favorite place in the whole castle. It’s nice to just sit there and be with my thoughts.

The Giant Squid is a girl. Don’t ask how I know.

Next time you’re down in the kitchens, ask the house elves for some vanilla ice cream and a plate of fresh chips.

It wasn’t long before you finally agreed to go on that date to Hogsmeade.

After that, your feelings for Draco bloomed quite quickly. Discrete study sessions in the library lasted long into the night, little gifts would appear in your bag or on your bed when you would have a rough day, subtle touches were shared whenever you had class together. You two were never seen publicly displaying any kind of affection though, which made it seem like you guys weren’t exactly dating.

You were fine with that kind of set up, preferring to keep your love life private and away from prying eyes. It also helped filter out the gossip about you and the questions you knew your friends would ask if they knew. They thought your friendship with Draco was a little off-putting, but chose not to say anything because they saw how he was different from your first few years in Hogwarts.

Fifth year was a little more tricky to deal with since Umbridge was around and stomping around like she owned the place.

Tensions were high as she constantly berated and belittled Harry, calling him a liar and embarrassing him in front of everyone in class. You were friends with him, Ron, and Hermione and of course you knew the truth. It made your blood boil that she thought she could treat him, or any other student for that matter, like that.

Draco, on the other hand, chose to keep quiet and keep out of Umbridge’s way. He didn’t want to get on her bad side, understandably, since his father was so closely involved in the Ministry.

“The more you keep your head down, the better love,” He would say as you complained to him about how awful she could be to Harry during your study sessions at the library, “I know for a fact that she wouldn’t hesitate to make you use that damn quill too if you gave her any reason. I don’t want you going through that.”

For the most part, you listened to his advice.

One day, however, you were just so over everything Umbridge had to say. She had gotten a dig in at Harry and his “lies” one too many times during class and you had just lost it.

“Oh shut up,” You snapped out loud.

Hermione’s head snapped to yours as quickly as you had said it, eyes wide in panic. Even Harry, who was trying his hardest not to retaliate because of his already sore and cut hand, gave you a look that said don’t bother.

“Excuse me?” The toad dressed in pink sent you a sarcastic smile, “What did you just say?”

You felt Hermione grip your arm as if to say please don’t. You shook her off.

“I said, shut up.” You spoke clearly, “You have no right to be ridiculing, and frankly humiliating, someone who is just a student and a minor, especially when you’re in a position of authority.”

The whole room was silent. Usually those who got on Umbridge’s bad side were those who chose not to follow her stupid educational degrees, or who spoke of Voldemort’s return. No one had ever called her out so publicly and straight to her face.

“Detention for the rest of the week, Miss Y/L/N. For speaking out of turn,” Was all Umbridge said.

You rolled your eyes but stayed silent, heart hammering in your chest when the realization of what exactly detention with her meant. A puff of breath escaped your lips and your mind wandered for the rest of the period, none of your friends bothering to ask if you were okay, clearly seeing that you weren’t in the right headspace.

The first few days of detention, you didn’t tell Draco where you were going, just saying that you were busy those nights and couldn’t really spend as much time with him as you liked. He was skeptical, but understood nonetheless. Every night before you two split ways, you going to Umbridge’s office and him heading for the dungeons, he would gently kiss you on the lips and whisper a soft I love you.

Those little reassurances were what helped you power through every sting of the words “I will not speak out of turn” on the back of your hand. As each detention wore on, though, you could feel your strength wavering.

On Friday night, the last night of your detention, you walked into Umbridge’s office and every breath you took shook from nerves. Your hand hadn’t healed from the previous night and it was more than painful. It pulsed as you waited for her to give you the go signal to start writing, and four hours later, it was red and raw. Blood dripped down from the edges of the words that no doubt left a scar and you couldn’t help the tears as they escaped the corners of your eyes.

The moment you stepped through the threshold of her office and into the silent corridor, a sob escaped your lips. You couldn’t bear to go back to Gryffindor tower yet but it was way past curfew and you couldn’t be seen wandering around the corridors. That meant that you found yourself in an empty alcove, trying to contain your tears and murmur quick healing spells on your hand.

You felt like such a baby, letting that foul woman get the better of you, but there was no mistaking the damage she did on you, both physically and mentally.

“Y/N?” You heard someone whisper. You nearly jumped out of your skin, quickly wiping your eyes with your good hand and strategically hiding the other as you saw Draco at the end of the hallway.

“Draco,” You breathed, “What’re you doing out so late?”

“Prefect duties, it’s my turn to patrol tonight,” He said simply, “I could ask you the same thing, are you alright?”

A beat passed as you debated on what your answer should be.

“No, not really.” You replied weakly, knowing that he would see right past any form of lie or distraction you could create, eyes glancing at your bloodied hand.

He was quick to take notice too, “Who hurt you?” He said before rushed forward, gently cradling your injured hand in his.

“You can take a guess,” You muttered as his eyes scanned over the words etched onto the back of your hand.

“Oh darling,” He murmured, making his way into the alcove and gathering you up into his arms, “How did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed into his chest, “You should’ve heard her! She was going on and on about how malicious and not right in the head she thought Harry was. I couldn’t just sit there and let her talk about him like that. You know that he’s telling the truth, he shouldn’t be singled out and punished for that! I called her out on it and she gave me detention the whole week.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” He asked more harshly than he intended and you felt like a toddler being scolded, “I told you that keeping your head down wouldn’t land you in situations like this.”

You knew he meant well and that he was just thinking of your happiness and safety, but with the rush of emotions running through you tonight, you didn’t want to be treated like a child. All you wanted was to be comforted and you had foolishly thought that Draco could give that to you.

“Oh sod off, Draco,” You huffed, pulling away from him and wincing as you lent on your injured hand, “I didn’t ask for a lecture, I’ve had my fill of that for today I would think.”

Tears had started to form in your eyes again as your frustration grew at your boyfriend. It had been a long night and this was not how you had seen it going when you spotted him down the hallway. You were about to move and make your way back to Gryffindor tower when you felt his hand softly grip your wrist.

“Hey, I’m sorry I snapped.” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back to his chest, “I just don’t like knowing that you got hurt when it could’ve been avoided.”

“I know,” You mumbled, still slightly put off at the boy whose arms enveloped you and whose scent was already calming you down.

Before you knew it, he was standing and sending you one of his trademark soft smiles that never failed to melt your heart.

“C’mon, you’re staying with me tonight.” He said, taking your uninjured hand in his and tugging slightly to get you to start moving.

“What if Umbridge catches us?” You asked, fear creeping in at the thought of more detentions being doled out to you. The thought of Draco having to go through it too made your stomach churn.

“She won’t.” He said confidently, “And if she does, I’m a prefect and she’s favors Slytherin anyway, I can tell her that I’m escorting you back to your dorm.”

The two of you walked silently hand-in-hand all the way to the slab of wall that indicated the Slytherin dorms. Draco gave you a large jumper to put on once you got to his dorm, as he went about getting ready for bed. The familiar scent of his cologne was enough to help you relax as you sank into the soft mattress and closed your eyes. Soon you felt the bed dip and Draco once again wrapped his arms around your waist.

A contented sigh escaped your lips as he peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“I love you,” He mumbled against your shoulder, “You know that right?”

Turning to face him, you sent him a soft smile, “Yeah. I love you too.”

For a while, Draco was content leaning down and pecking your lips every so often. No words were spoken and none were needed as both of you basked in the presence of the other. After a while, your stomach grumbled as you hadn’t had much to eat before your detention with Umbridge. The nerves were too much for you to stomach anything substantial.

Draco shifted away slightly and asked, “Do you want me to go grab you something from the kitchens? I’m sure the house elves would be happy to whip something up for you.”

You only shuffled closer to him, letting his warmth wash over you, “I’m alright, I’d rather be with you anyway.”

He gave out a soft hum and pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting you know that he heard you. It wasn’t long until you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fics #draco malfoy x reader

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years ago

Text

You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 9

As Long as You’re Mine

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.1K

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 @50svibes @cagzzz107 @evelynshelby @piano-isnt-my-forte If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update!

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

AO3 link

Chapter 9 let’s go!!!

“Okay, how does this sound?” Juliet asked Ron, who sat on her bed as she put together her story of the trial. He was careful not to recline, lest he disturb her pages of notes carefully organized atop the quilt. “Meredith Fisher confessed to the murder of six-year-old Peggy Lee in front of the courtroom before her trial began. Mrs. Fisher was arrested and charged with the murder in September of last year. Her lawyer, Mr. Harvey Cooper, originally planned to plead not guilty, but in a shocking turn of events, Mrs. Fisher herself admitted to the jury she killed Peggy Lee before even opening arguments could be made.”

“I’d read that,” Ron replied.

Juliet huffed and looked around her room at the Blue Boar. Papers littered the floor, pens were nowhere to be found, and her typewriter was mocking her. Now that the trial was finished - with such a dramatic twist - she was hard at work, trying to ensure she reported it just right. An impossible task, it felt like.

“Okay, but would you read it because I’m your girlfriend or because of the writing?” she asked.

“The writing,” he told her. “It’s simple, it explains everything.”

“It feels a bit long for the lead,” she said. “Perhaps I should put the bit about her arrest in the nut graph.”

“That does feel more like background information,” he agreed.

She pulled a pencil from behind her ear, scratched out the sentence, and began again. “So, it’d go like this - Meredith Fisher confessed to the murder of six-year-old Peggy Lee in front of the courtroom before her trial began. Her lawyer - I’m gonna take out his name and have that later - so, Her lawyer originally planned to plead not guilty, but in a shocking turn of events, Mrs. Fisher admitted to the jury she killed Peggy Lee before even opening arguments could be made. Then I’ll go into when she was arrested, the details of the murder, then the evidence the prosecution had prepared, and finish with her sentencing date. How’s that?”

“I think it’s perfect,” he said.

She chewed her lip. “Should I use the word shocking? I don’t want to tell the readers how to feel.”

“When she confessed, what was the first thing you heard?” he asked.

“Gasps,” she answered.

“There’s your shock,” he said.

Juliet had to concede that point. Ron almost didn’t believe her when she told him the story. The judge had barely gotten the words “How do you plead?” out before Meredith let out a wail like wounded animal and confessed to the whole gruesome thing. She sobbed that she was sorry, but she knew she had to be punished. She wasn’t safe. And truthfully, Juliet felt bad for her. It was truly one of the most pitiful things she’d ever witnessed.

But the one thing Juliet could never forget, the image that would stick with her for all her days, was the look on Peggy Lee’s parents’ faces. The Lees watched, dignified, proud, yet misty eyed as the person who killed their daughter begged for mercy. Their grief was profoundly felt, despite their stately manner. They said nothing. They did nothing. And they spoke to no one upon their exit from the courtroom.

“Jules?”

Ron’s voice brought her back to the present, his hand on her shoulder making her turn to look at him.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “Just...it’s so unfair. If anyone had a right to be screaming and crying it was the parents.”

“They must be very English,” he said.

“Oh, they were proper English,” she agreed. “Stiff upper lips and all. The mother did at one point hide her face in the father’s arm, but other than that, they were stoic.”

“Thinking about including that in your story?” he wondered.

“God, no,” she replied. “I’ll mention that they were there and offered no comments, but this isn’t that kind of article.”

“Just the facts, huh?”

“As usual.”

“Juliet.”

“Yeah?”

“The article’s gonna be great,” he said.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because you care this much,” he said. He accentuated the point with a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got a staff meeting. Are you alright here?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for being so patient with me.”

He kissed her again. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you later, Ron,” she returned.

With that, he left. Juliet started trying to condense the lead again, still feeling like it was too long. There had to be a better summary. But it was a lot to try and fit into one sentence, so she resigned herself to making it more than one line. She hadn’t chosen a headline yet, either, but she usually liked to write the article first. That way she could pick out the singular most newsworthy part and headline with that. As she organized further, the phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Juliet, it’s Lottie.”

“Hey, Lottie, how are you?” Juliet asked.

“Fine, same as usual,” Lottie returned. “Otis just rang and told me about the trial. I hope you’re hard at work.”

“Absolutely,” Juliet assured her. “I’ve nearly got the lead down. I’ve just got to get the facts organized. I’m thinking of doing a follow up story about the shortcomings of Operation Pied Piper, since Cooper’s little tidbit did prove to be true.”

Sad as it was, Harvey Cooper was right. There was no process for vetting the families agreeing to take the children. The committee had been in such a hurry to evacuate, they had not even considered that some children could end up in more danger than they were at home in the cities. Juliet found the whole thing fascinating, and it could open up a conversation about war time protocol - be meticulous or swift?

“I think that’ll be fine,” Lottie said. “But have you gotten any war news? I know I wasn’t enthusiastic about it initially, but you’re the only reporter I’ve got with the Airborne.”

Juliet bit her lip. While the prospect of war news had originally driven her to accept the Peggy Lee story, she found herself conflicted about it now. Her relationship with Ron threw a wrench in it.

“I think it’s a conflict of interest for me to cover the Airborne,” she said.

She could practically hear Lottie’s eyes roll. “Oh, come on, Juliet, don’t be absurd.”

“It isn’t right, Lottie!” Juliet insisted. “I’m in an intimate relationship with one of the soldiers, there’s no freeing me from bias there.”

“You could use it to your advantage,” Lottie said. “Obviously, you can’t use him as a source, but couldn’t he lead you to the right person?”

“I can’t ask that of him,” Juliet said. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“What wrong idea?”

It was something Juliet had already put a lot of thought into. As badly as she wanted to cover the war - and it did seem like things were ramping up even more in Aldbourne - she was hesitant. She had actually considered asking Ron for a source and then immediately hated herself for it. She would not use her relationship to get ahead in her job. She couldn’t. It just wasn’t right, simple as that.

“That I’m using him,” Juliet explained. “If I ask him to get me a source, he might worry that it’s the reason I entered the relationship, and that’s not the case.”

Lottie sighed. “So, you just want to give up on covering the war?”

“I didn’t say that,” Juliet returned. “I’d be happy to cover something else once I get back to London, but-”

“Forget it,” Lottie cut across her. “Just focus on the trial for now and then Pied Piper, if that’s what you want.”

“Lottie -”

“Good afternoon, Juliet,” Lottie said harshly, hanging up before Juliet could protest any further.

She sighed, hanging up as well, and sitting back in her chair. She had a feeling the conversation wasn’t quite over, but she’d hear more about it on her next trip home. For now, she wanted to focus on what happened at the trial. The sentencing would be in another few weeks, so she needed to get this done.

***

Ron was right of course. The article was published and the London Pursuit sold the most copies it had in years. It surprised Juliet a little, but perhaps people were tired of war news and what better than a dramatic murder trial for a change of pace? It was morbid, sure, but Juliet knew she’d handled it as well as she could.

Lottie called, absolutely elated by the circulation numbers. And honestly, Juliet was thrilled too. She found Ron later that day and leapt into his arms as a display of her unmitigated excitement. She’d done it, and done it well! It was cause for celebration. So they went to London for the weekend - staying with Nancy of course, since she would have had a fit at missing an opportunity to see Ron - and they went to a nice dinner, champagne and everything. Juliet could hardly believe her luck. Everything was going so perfectly.

And that night, as they lay together in the afterglow, she looked at his face and knew she loved him. The kind of love she read about in books and poetry. The kind that crooners sang about on the radio. She’d found it. It was scary enough to admit to herself, but she determined that she would - one day soon if the opportunity presented itself - admit it to him.

He caught her gazing at him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just happy you’re mine.”

***

The sentencing hearing was not as interesting as the trial itself, but Juliet was relieved to report that Meredith Fisher was going to prison for life. There would be no chance for parole, either. So justice was served.

However, Juliet couldn’t help but notice the look on Mr. Lee’s face. Mrs. Lee had not come for the sentencing, so it was just father. When the judge announced Meredith’s fate, Mr. Lee only closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He nodded, put a hand over his heart, and inhaled again. A single tear rolled down his cheek. It made Juliet look away so that he could have that moment for himself. To take in whatever feelings came to him. To remember Peggy and take some solace in that her killer was going away.

“I thought I’d be happier,” Juliet told Ron as they prepared for bed that night back at the Blue Boar. “But it still just feels...rotten.”

“Nothing can bring the girl back,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I know,” she replied. “But I just....I suppose you’re right. What else could anyone have hoped for in this situation?”

“Right,” he agreed.

“I’m also grateful we didn’t have to hear that lawyer make that ridiculous argument in a courtroom,” she said. “I don’t think I could bear the looks on the parents’ faces at that.”

“That would have been awful,” he said.

“Even so, it feels rather anticlimactic,” she said. “Especially for the prosecution who spent months putting everything together.”

“They still got the result they wanted,” he pointed out. “So what does it matter?

She shrugged at that. She still felt unsatisfied, as if there was something more to be done. Even though logically, she knew there wasn’t. She would write an update for the paper, and that would really be the end of it. That was when it hit her. What was really upsetting her was that now that this was over, there was no more reason for her to be in Aldbourne. Especially now that she didn’t want to cover the Airborne. It meant that she would go home to London, in turn reducing her time with Ron significantly. And that was a dreadful thought.

***

“What do you mean you aren’t coming back to London?” Lottie cried through the phone. “What about the Pied Piper story?”

“I reckon it can wait,” Juliet said, entirely unconvincing, but she hoped Lottie was buying it. Her reasons for remaining in Aldbourne had nothing to do with her job and everything to do with the man she was in love with. “And maybe with some time, I can find my own sources on war news.”

Lottie remained silent for several minutes. “So, you’ve just changed your mind all of a sudden about covering the Airborne?”

“Not completely,” Juliet lied. “I...I’m just not sure I’m quite finished here. And what if there’s something else about the Peggy Lee story that comes up? I could -”

“Give it a rest, Juliet,” Lottie groaned. “I know you want to stay for your boyfriend.”

“That’s not -”

Lottie cut across her protests. “Please do not insult my intelligence by suggesting otherwise. You want to be near him.”

“You don’t sound quite as sympathetic as I hoped,” Juliet said, giving in.

“You have a life in London, Juliet!” Lottie reminded her harshly. “You have a job to do, your mother is here, and you want to put everything on hold for some man?”

“He’s not just some man!” Juliet argued indignantly. “He’s...different from any man I’ve ever known. And what we have means more to me than anything I’ve ever known.”

She glanced down at the necklace that sparkled against her skin. A constant reminder of how much she meant to him as well.

“Oh, come off of your cloud, will you?” Lottie snapped.

“Lottie,” Juliet said seriously. “The whole time I was with Arthur, did you ever know me to put him before work? Or my family?”

“No, so why is this Ron fellow -”

“Because it is different,” Juliet emphasized. “This is it, Lottie. He’s the one.”

That seemed to stump her. “Has he...proposed?”

“No, he hasn’t,” Juliet said. “I don’t even care if he does.”

Lottie scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t just carry on living in sin.”

Juliet rolled her eyes. “Could you please pay attention to what's important here? There’s a man in my life who I genuinely see a happy future with and I just...I want to focus on that. Is that so wrong?”

“I suppose not,” Lottie sighed, and Juliet inwardly celebrated a moment of victory. “But I can’t pay you if you aren’t working. At least be making the proper phone calls to follow this Pied Piper story. Conduct interviews of other families there who have taken in children from the cities. Part of the story is there if you know where to look.”

“No problem,” Juliet said. “You’ll be glad to know I’ve already begun. I’ve got an interview with the Barnes family next week, who are housing a little girl. I’ll ask them about how the process went for them.”

“Perfect,” Lottie said. She paused for a beat. “And, Juliet?”

“Yes?”

“I really am happy for you.”

Juliet smiled softly. “Thank you, Lottie.”

***

Spring fully thawed the winter out by the time April arrived. Aldbourne was rather charming in bloom. But Juliet wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or that she was in love. She found herself humming a lot more than she used to - these days she didn’t even need food to start a merry tune in the back of her throat. She had more energy, despite spending rather long nights in Ron’s arms. And she found her enthusiasm for work - even though her priority shifted - a great deal easier to come by as well.

The interview with the Barnes family went splendidly. They were also housing a couple of lieutenants from the Airborne, though they were not in Ron’s company. Juliet only exchanged brief greetings with them, as they were heading to work just as she was entering the house. She nearly melted at the connection they had formed with the girl - Ann - which was clear in their goodbyes to her for the day. She seemed particularly close to the tall redhead.

Juliet told Ron about it that evening over drinks.

“Yeah, that’s Winters and Welsh,” he told her. “Good officers.”

“Do they spend much time here?” she wondered, indicating the Blue Boar.

“Welsh does, but Winters doesn’t drink,” he said. “He spends most nights there with the family.”

“I can tell,” she said. “I mean, it was seriously precious. She hugged his knees and he patted her on the head and I think I fell a little bit in love with him for a moment.”

He scoffed. “Good luck, I think he has a girlfriend.”

“Has he?” she questioned.

“Yeah, the nurse,” he said. “She works for the regiment.”

“You lot have your own nurse?”

“She’s got some connection to Colonel Sink,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never actually met her.”

“And what about the other chap?” she asked. “Welsh?”

“He’s engaged,” he told her. “Her name’s Kitty.”

“You know that but not the name of the nurse?” she questioned.

“I only know because Harry never shuts up about her,” he said. “The whole regiment knows at this point. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Krauts knew.”

She giggled. “I think that’s sweet.”

“It’s obnoxious.”

“You mean, you don’t brag about me to the whole regiment?” she teased. “Romance is dead.”

“Sorry for your loss,” he retorted as he took a swig of his drink.

“Not as sorry as I am,” she returned. “Now I’ll have to spend God knows how many hours in mourning.”

“At least you look good in black,” he said.

“My saving grace,” she agreed with a smile. She paused for a beat. “Seriously, you don’t talk about me at all?”

“I do if you come up,” he told her.

“And what do you say?” she wondered.

“Whatever’s relevant,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer not to broadcast my personal life,” he said. “All they need to know is that you’re mine.”

She smiled as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “That’s true.”

***

April was drawing to a close. Juliet stood in her room, preparing to go and interview another Aldbourne family about their process in fostering a child from London. These interviews were restoring the bit of faith she’d lost in covering Peggy’s story because most of the families were very kind, and doted on the children. They were proud of doing what they could to ensure the future of England. And the children were mostly happy. What happened to Peggy was a tragedy and an outlier.

She was just getting ready to leave when Ron entered her room. A grim shadow of doubt on his features made her smile disappear as fast as it had come. Something was wrong. He definitely had bad news.

“We’re moving out,” he told her.

She had expected this at some point, but she still blinked in surprise. Her shoulders drooped as the reality of it percolated through her.

“Oh,” she said. “Well...when?”

He hesitated. “This is off the record -”

She scowled at him, momentarily offended that he felt the need to clarify.

“Everything between us is protected, Ron,” she said sharply. “You and I are always off the record unless stated otherwise.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly, picking up on her tone. “I know that, I just -”

“When?” she demanded again.

“End of May,” he said. “I don’t know when we’ll be back.”

The if hung in the air, but remained unsaid. This was it. The moment she had been dreading since she met him. Well, maybe not that long, but since they had started getting to know each other there in Aldbourne. The war was taking him from her, like it took everything.

“I see…” she trailed off, her annoyance easing up. That was sooner than she had hoped and she didn’t want to waste any precious time being angry at him. “Um...where - wait, I can’t ask you that.” She bit her lip. “When - oh, no, you’ve just told me, that’s right -”

“Juliet.”

“Yes?”

“Wait for me.”

Once again, Ron failed to disappoint her. Despite all the reassurance, she worried that when they shipped out, he would take the opportunity to break it off with her. Instead, he was asking - in his way - for a commitment from her. She held his gaze for a long moment, waiting for him to say more. But he didn’t.

“You really want to stay together?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said assuredly.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighed, and she threw herself into his arms for a kiss.

He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his lips fiery and desperate against hers. As if he were leaving the following morning instead of a couple of weeks. But Juliet wanted the intensity. She wanted to savor every touch, every kiss, every moment she had before he was gone. She also wanted to let him know that she absolutely would wait for him. She would do anything he asked of her. She just wanted him. Forever, if possible. And if the war robbed her of that, she would at least have the memories of kisses like these. Of nights in his arms. Of his unwavering dedication to her.

***

The arrangements were made for Juliet to return to London once Ron and the rest of the Airborne were off. On his final morning in Aldbourne, they of course made love again, only it was the after that they relished even more. Juliet etched into her brain the feeling of his embrace, the warmth of his skin, the sound of his voice. She wished desperately that she could freeze time and hold onto him for just a little longer. She had found something so wonderful and now it was being dragged away from her.

“Jules,” he said, voice low as if there might be someone listening on the other side of the door.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to France,” he said.

She blinked and adjusted her position so she could look him in the face. “France?”

He nodded. “I wanted you to know.”

She couldn’t explain why that felt more intimate than anything they had just done in her bed.

“Why tell me now?” she asked, curious.

He swallowed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, but his arm gave her shoulders a squeeze.

“Trust,” he said.

She pressed her lips tenderly to his chest to let him know how much she appreciated his trust. There was no longer a need to specify on or off the record. His statements were privileged. Anything he told her would remain between them.

For a fleeting moment, she considered telling him right then that she loved him. Because if he was going to France, there was a chance he would never come back. And shouldn’t he know just in case? But her heart told her to play it safe. If she didn’t tell him now, perhaps whatever power there was would protect him enough so that she could say it later. If there were still things left to be said, hopefully that would keep him alive.

There were no guarantees, of course. All they had was each other and their promise.

That afternoon, the trucks began rumbling out of Aldbourne. Juliet walked Ron as far as she was allowed. Her chest felt tight as the impending goodbye hung in the air. She hated this. It was too painful. How could it be that the very war that brought them together would also be the reason for their parting? What was fair about that? Nothing, that’s what.

A kiss from Ron drew her out of her thoughts. He held her firmly against him, almost as if he were afraid she would disappear right out of his grasp. When they parted, they were both breathless.

“Be careful,” she said.

His eyes searched hers. “You too.”

Her brain was practically screaming at her to tell him now just what she felt. But she was too afraid. Too afraid it would doom him. Too afraid he wouldn’t say it back. Or even worse, say it only because of the passionate nature of the moment. It had to be when they weren’t so desperate. When they really meant it because whatever was coming was not a threat.

“I’ll write,” she told him.

“I’ll respond when I can,” he returned.

She nodded. Her throat was dry and thick. The lack of tears in her eyes surprised her. How could she not be crying when she could feel her heart breaking so badly? She kissed him again. Just to prolong the last moment where he was only hers.

“Stay safe,” she told him.

He nodded.

With one last kiss, they said goodbye without saying it. Juliet went to the train station and headed home to London. And Ron went to war.

#band of brothers #ron speirs #juliet fletcher #ron speirs x ofc #hbo war #you better you better you bet series #Easy Company #band of brothers fic #hbo war fic

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bookofmirth · 4 years ago

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Hola! What is your take on Feyre's POV? I'm seeing a lot of people talk about Elain being the common denominator in both bonus chapters but I simply don't see why that would mean her book is next. Yes, she was mentioned in both but I honestly took Feyre's POV as just fluff for the Feysands out there since this was the first book that was not in her POV. I apologize in advance if you already answered this.

I haven’t actually talked about this at all! Thanks for this ask! I put it off for a few days because I wanted to reread it and think about it.

First off, that was my initial response too, that their tidbit was self-indulgent fluff. Sjm still loves feysand, lots of readers do, she’s probably like “I don’t want to let them go!!! I need to write them being happy in first-person POV one last time!!!!”

So for context, this happens right after chapter 21, after everyone is trying to figure out how to find the Dread Trove, Elain offers to help, Nesta and Az do their angry bit, Elain goes off on Nesta and Feyre, and then Feyre says that she is pregnant and so they all decide that Nesta will try.

In the short, they start by talking about Elain because that’s literally the most recent thing that they have to talk about. It’s later that day. There is discussion of her behavior, Feyre thinks about her being “a pleasant companion”, and they basically say “well, she’s nice I guess.”

Rhys says:

“With time and safety, perhaps we'll see a different side of her emerge.”

My emphasis on the word time. I don’t think I need to interpret this much - Rhys says that it will take time. She’s had two years, but she’s also done a whole lot of nothing with that time. She’s nearly immortal. There’s no reason that she has to show that other side right now in the next book with the same urgency they had with Nesta and her faux intervention. The way Nesta’s mental health was portrayed was much more urgent and dire than Elain’s has been. It was clear that it needed to be dealt with ASAP, but with Elain they’re just like “give it time”. Which is also what Mor said (I believe in acowar?)

The fact that Elain is mentioned in this short doesn’t say anything to me in terms of her being next. It makes sense for her to be mentioned because of when this scene takes place in the story. We do get a tad bit of insight, not necessarily into her but how she continues to be viewed by the people around her.

And that’s a big sign to me that she’s not next. We know she’s coming but we have no idea what she wants, what is motivating her, what moves she’s planning, how exactly she would be tied to a plot other than a vague “well Koschei maybe? Lucien knows Vassa and she’s had visions of Vassa?” But how would she tie in, exactly? Why would she willingly fuck off to the Continent and help someone she’s never seen? If one of the extras had been about her and her nightmares, or her and her powers, or maybe if she is connected to the Dread Trove, or SOMETHING. But she’s got the attention at the beginning of both these stories and IT’S KINDA HORRIBLE to realize, but Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand kinda drift off and think about other people by the end of their stories. They don’t really see her and so it’s easy for them all the move on.

(This is still my thinking for Az being next, though I could obviously be wrong! I can answer those questions for Az. I know what is driving him, what plot he would be tied to and how, and what he wants. I can’t say the same for Elain.)

Then re: the gloves,

“And torn up by thorns," I mused, recalling a morning this past summer when Elain had come into the house, her right palm bleeding from several gashes thanks to a stubborn rosebush that had pierced her gloves. The thorns had broken off in her skin, leaving sharp splinters that I’d had to pull free.

I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.

Elain knows what she’s doing. She’s an experienced gardener, she’s High Fae and magic-y, so the way I read this is that she intentionally let herself get hurt. Not even to spite Lucien - she’s worked with plants well before she ever received those gloves. Her connection to Lucien and the gloves are not the only thing in the world that could have protected her. I suspect that her nightmares are getting to her and she was angry and careless? That’s total speculation, but it seems odd that someone whose personality to this point has largely been “gardening” would get so injured while doing the thing she spends all her free time on.

I wonder... okay this is a total side headcanon, but what if she realized that she would have to try really, really hard to actually get hurt as a High Fae? What if she was angry about her body not doing the same things it used to do when she was human? Feyre said that it was the previous summer, so maybe 1-1.5 years after being turned? Imagine her being angry at the thorns for failing to sting the way they used to.

I’ve seen this highlighted for no good reason:

“I'd never do such a thing. You must be thinking of your other mate."

“Yes, the cruel, overprotective, half-insane one." I smiled as he kissed my jaw, then my neck. My toes curled.

“Cruel?” Rhys purred the word against my skin. “You wound me."

So I just want to point out that this is a joke that couples make all the time IRL? “Oh, I must have told my other boyfriend about that.” “Oh, did you buy that jewelry for your other girlfriend?” I’ve even heard people do that with friends or siblings. It’s not that deep. I’ve done it myself, I’ve heard other people in relationships do it. Not to mention the fact that Rhys is the “other mate” she’s talking about because it’s a joke, and he knows that when she says her other mate is cruel. Moving on.

Okay so actually now that I’m rereading this, there is something interesting about this short, which is that Feyre suspects that something is bothering Rhys. We find out later (chronologically in the story) about the problems with the birth, and so maybe sjm was trying to say “Rhys isn’t being a total asshole and Feyre isn’t a total dumbass”?

Feyre thinks this:

It had always been part of our friendship: to give each other the space to decide when we were ready to talk.

Which I guess is her way of explaining why Feyre 1) knew something was off but 2) didn’t press.

Also it’s probably just a nice scene where we can see them coming up with the name for the baby! It could have been done before the birth, but Nesta and Feyre were not yet close enough for them to have had a conversation like that.

Basically, I think that people are trying to center Elain in these shorts even though I don’t see her as being the focus, especially since she is only discussed for a quarter of the feysand one, she’s in a third of the Az one, and both shorts end without a thought or mention of her. The focus is feysand being pregnant, Feyre recognizing that something was wrong, and then them naming Nyx. The focus was Azriel’s emotional state and volatility. I KNOW we will get an Elain book. I just don’t see how it would be now when we’ve gotten nearly ever POV except hers, and we could have gotten it but didn’t. Could I be wrong? Yep! this is just how I’ve read it!

#acosf #feysand POV #acotar #ask #feysand #elain #feyre #rhysand #azriel #anon

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kanchelsis · 3 years ago

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If you wrote the Nikolai Duology, how would you change it? You have some good ideas!

aaaaaa thank you!! people have been so lovely about my salty post ghsfjks i'm kissing you all on the cheek 💕

to answer your question, i think it might be less about what i would do, and more about what i wouldn't do. i'll make some bullet points and say whatever comes to mind.

(to be honest, the idea of nikolai having his own duology has lost its appeal to me, which is sad because i adore him. i just believe he's a better side character than main, and there are more interesting grishaverse stories waiting to be told. but let's work on the assumption that i have to keep the basic pillars of the books and not just throw away the whole concept.)

ok so... zoya. i would take her in a completely different direction than lb did. i love a good morally ambiguous character, so i wouldn't just erase that - what drew me to her in tgt was her stubbornness, her shallowness, her capacity for petty cruelty, but also her determination and confidence. we can't just have her holding one of the most powerful positions in ravka and everyone just accepting that. not only does she need to have doubters, the doubters need to have a point.

we have a ruthless young woman, a soldier no less, suddenly needing to utilise diplomacy to protect an entire country. make her screw up. make her uncompromising and callous. make her human. don't expect her to step into this role seamlessly just so unlimited power can be handed to her on a silver platter.

if she has to be an ultrapowerful grisha, it's so much more logical to make her work for it. to hell with the saints on the fold stuff, what even was that?? lb tells us that everything we thought about grisha power is wrong, but 1) throws away the really cool magic system she made and 2) doesn't replace it with anything else. just let zoya be a squaller, not a dragon-saint-chosen-one or whatever.

writing this has kinda made me sad, since zoya could've been amazing, but anyway. onwards to nikolai.

this is the nikolai duology. if he's giving his name to the series i expect him to be the central character. i'd want his main struggle to surround identity and an uncertain future - who is nikolai, underneath the charm and flirtation? there could be an internal war between the demon, carefree sturmhond and the duty-bound king of ravka. both he and zoya are faced with a disarrayed court filled with people who don't think they have what it takes to lead.

there are so many nonsensical subplots in the duology that... fizzle into nothing. cut it down. pick a few things to focus on and give them the detail they deserve.

speaking of, the cult of the starless! lb took what could've been a source of endless interest and turned it into a bland caricature. we get it ma'am, you hate the darkling. but the problem is that the darkling's root motive gets conveniently glossed over in favour of character bashing. he wanted a safe world for grisha. that still doesn't exist. there's a tidbit about grisha no longer being forced to join the second army, but that was not the issue at hand at all? they're not going to know how to use their powers. they're still going to face discrimination.

so onto my point, what if the cult of the starless was predominantly grisha? those who feel let down by the world around them, who see the darkling as a martyr for a reason. now THAT would be something to contend with. a physical consequence for the events of tgt. put them next to people like genya and nikolai who intimately understand the harm the darkling has done, and you've got a badass subplot going there.

plus, imagine zoya spotting old friends and comrades amongst the starless. angst potential. also, yuri's treatment in the books pisses me off so much - lb wants us to see him as a foolish annoyance, but this kid literally marched the religious sect that he leads right up to the gates of os alta. now top that off with grisha powers (inferni would be cool) and you have a way more threatening character.

zoyalai. right, ok. what irks me about these two is that their so-called banter and pining go nowhere. we get some half-hearted justifications for them not being together, and the narrative completely overlooks zoya's comments about him in the trilogy. let's fix this.

maybe they could start off professional around each other, somewhat cold. until at some point, they begin an exclusively physical affair, just fwb and nothing more. i think this could work given the fact they're both flirty and materialistic. the stakes would be that if the court found out, their reputations would be significantly tarnished, yet neither are willing to stop. as they spend more time together, feelings blossom. they're no longer the demon king and squaller general to each other. they just want to be nikolai and zoya, yet both are too proud to make the first move. let the pining commence.

either that or give nikolai a new love interest. wasn't there a line in kos that joked that nikolai would be prone to falling in love with a palace maid? the potential spice of his love interest being someone with zero political standing, someone like dominik. a fellow pirate or even a starless member.

i don't even know what to say about nina. i was devastated over her treatment. there really do need to be more stories where a character who has lost a lover moves on and finds love again, but matthias is quite literally freshly buried when she meets her new boo. that's a major disservice to the potential of hanne's character as well. i'm kinda in favour of scrapping nina's whole plot. it would need a colossal amount of overhaul to work and even though i'm enjoying sharing my ideas, i don't have time to think about that.

same goes for isaac and mayu. either scrap it or give it the attention it needs.

i'm aware this is very kos-centric, but kos is the root of my issues and row is just an extension of that.

MOST IMPORTANTLY: no darkling return. no alina and mal. this story has been told and wrapped up. please don't cheapen it by going back and contradicting tgt. no gratuitous, shoehorned crow cameos either.

that's that about that, i guess!! i apologise for any spelling or grammatical errors, i wrote this rather quickly. i know this isn't gonna be for everyone. that's alright. i just ask people to civil about it and if discussion is going to be had, don't take things in bad faith. sorry anon this got long af.

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closer-stars · 3 years ago

Text

Heart of Depth (4)

Member: Yeosang Genre: Action, Slice of Life, Fantasy, Fluff, a little tension. Genshin Inspired AU Word Count: ~5k Requested: Sort of yeah Content: Yeosang x MC development. More world building. Food stuff. some history, some typical genshin shenanigans. Mild Violence. Mentions of death Note: Surprise lol. I’ve been working on this fic at the same time as gut feeling hence the speedy posting, part 5 to be posted soon. Network: @ateezlovenet Tag list: @barsformars @miniyeo @jeongyunhoed @yeekies @yeotlny @frankenstein852 @shinyddeonghwa @prodbyteez @yeochikin @yeocult @harubirus

Part 3

Yeosang’s friend, Hongjoong, arrives at your shop today. He waits for you and Wooyoung patiently by the door. Well, you assume it’s Hongjoong based on his mannerisms. He didn’t seem like the men Wooyoung had to fight the night before. The two of you approach your shop carefully: the grip you have on your keys were tight, Wooyoung’s stance was low enough to not get weird glances but low enough to give him enough force to jump should it not be him.

The male notices the two of you and greets you politely. “Hello, I’m Kim Hongjoong, Kang told me about your need for assistance.” The introduction puts your guards down. You remember Yeosang’s description of the male, around Wooyoung’s height, eyes that seem inquisitive, with wavy hair that seem to frame his face. If none of these events had happened, you would’ve assumed he was a model with how he carried himself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You introduce yourself and Wooyoung, as you open the shop for the day. Not even a few minutes after, people start pouring into your shop-- some of them with obvious relief on their features. They speak of their worries of the shop having closed down or you and Wooyoung not doing alright. All of which are shut down with reassurances. As the three of you go about with the orders and other needed rituals, you teach Hongjoong the ins and outs of your shop, what to press to make certain types of coffee, how to make foamed milk and so on. “Oh and if you want to create any dishes, feel free to do so. Some of Wooyoung’s creations are on the menu as well.”

Throughout the day, the three of you try to get to know each other more, even asking Hongjoong for tidbits about who Yeosang and San really are and who he really is. He answers simply about himself, a Dendro holder, whose blood is similar to that of San’s. “So how old are you?” Wooyoung asks.

“Younger than San, older than you.” It was a simple answer but enough to give the two of you an idea of how long he has walked the earth. It also explains his oddly shaped pupils but perhaps a detailed rundown of his lineage is for another day.

Wooyoung returns to where the two of you are, just in time to get the gist of the conversation as you guide Hongjoong through making an iced macchiato. “Yeah and most of the earnings made from those dishes go to you.” He eggs the other male on with a cheeky grin on his face. Hongjoong, catching onto his antics, releases a light laugh after having made enough milk foam for the order.

“I’ll consider that.” You let Hongjoong pour the order into a plastic cup for the customer. You don’t miss the lingering gazes from the women as well. Maybe having an attractive barista could help with the sales.

--------

You were back running business as usual. Only since that incident, you had to start closing a little earlier than usual. You had to write on your small board that you’ll only be able to be open until 5PM every day for the next few weeks due to personal reasons. Wooyoung spends the rest of the day in the studio, though he gets creative with the journey there-- using various train lines, or even walking through different streets just to make sure he doesn’t become predictable from the Abyss. He was more worried for you though. Hongjoong as well, walks with you usually: either walking the two of you to your apartment or elsewhere, just for safety. It was part of the agreement after all.

For today the shop has to close early, at least he can be reassured that you’ll be safe with Yeosang for tonight. “Damn, you really dressed up for tonight huh?” Wooyoung muses as he leans against the counter. Hongjoong lingers around Wooyoung’s side. For the entire day, Wooyoung gave the older male a rundown of your relationship with Yeosang-- at least the parts you forgot to add, which generally was the romantic aspect.

To be fair, you did put a little more effort today hoping that Wooyoung wouldn’t notice unless you wanted to be teased. Your blouse, though it can be easily wrinkled, hangs on your body well. It’s also one of your favorites simply for how it feels cool to the touch. You were wearing slacks as well, not your usuals for comfort and practicality but today, knowing Yeosang’s preferences when it comes to dates, it was better to just dress up. “Shush.” You chide him, wrinkling your nose at his teasings. “I know he’s seen me in just shorts or joggers when I’m working but considering it’s a date…” Until now, whenever you say that you’re going on a date with him, your heart beats a little faster. “I figured I might as well... “

The mischievous glint in Wooyoung’s eyes softens just a bit as he snickers at how flustered you look. “Don’t worry about it too much, the two of you have really good dynamics. Guess you could say there’s a spark” He rests against his elbows this time. The pun doesn’t go unnoticed by Hongjoong. “Have you even seen how he looks at you? That guy’s really smitten.” There was also a hint of curiosity behind the soft gaze Yeosang carries for you. He wonders what it is, but if there’s anything being an electro user tells him, it’s patience. “Besides, your shop has garnered a bunch of loyal customers now. They don’t mind the early close especially for personal reasons. At least have fun tonight.”

You look at the clock. It won’t be long until he picks you up from the shop then. “You already know how to lock up this place right?” It won’t be long either until Wooyoung has to head to the studio.

“Of course. The keys are with me and the extra set of keys are at home.” He rolls his eyes in jest at your concern. “Do you have Regalia with you?” He returns.

Regalia’s the name of the bracelet you’ve been wearing since day one of living with Wooyoung’s family. One of the last few things you’ve kept from your family that he’s aware of. He doesn’t usually mind you not wearing it during work but with the recent events, you can only assume this is for your peace of mind. “Yup.” You raise your wrist to his view, and he sees the cool toned beads adorn and accentuate the silver charm that rests just above where your pulse is.

Your vision was peaking under your top, just by your waist, not wanting to bring too much attention to your capabilities but still wanting to stay on the safe side. Underneath the calm facade, lies the same person who’s still wary of everything since then. A figure catches his eye by the door. It’s Yeosang, this time wearing a cream blazer under a simple printed white shirt and dark gray pants and ankle boots. He always manages to make you feel a tad bit underdressed with his fashion sense. You envy Wooyoung’s nonchalance to the fashion differences, then again, Wooyoung’s been confident in his own style. That’s what got him to where he is now.

Just as you were about to ask Wooyoung a question, he beats you to it. “Yes, you look fine. Now go and have your date.” He shooes you off with a wave of his hand. You shoot him a look of mild annoyance for his ability to see through your facade. So with that done, you grab your things on top of the counter and wave him goodbye.

“Call me when something comes up okay?”

He says nothing but shoots you an okay sign, making sure you focus on the man who’s been waiting for you like a lovesick puppy by the door.

Just as you step out of the shop, you’re greeted by a warm smile from him. It’s interesting how that smile made him look younger when he’s already thousands of years older than you. It just comes with the whole Archon responsibility, you suppose. As you approach him, he hands you a bouquet of various flowers-- peeking above the flowers, you see his cheeks bloom into an endearing pink.

“Yeosang what’s this for?” You ask, the wrapped flowers in your hands has you dumbfounded. You weren’t sure if it was a double peonies but you’ve definitely seen this before somehow. You knew that this was a rarity but how he managed to acquire them at the height of their beauty at this time of the year was a feat for you. “What is this?” A white flower, not yet in full bloom, is surrounded by simple greens and hyacinths. You gaze at them for a moment, before returning your gaze to the man in front of you.

The tips of his ears shine bright pink, a stark contrast to his black-blue hair. “I thought you might appreciate another type of flower to be in your shop.” You can’t turn down this gift. Double peonies have been something you would usually see online. To know that these are real ones and they’re in your hands, it was truly an experience. “Neve Jewel.” He answers your question softly

You look at him for a moment, shocked at how he got this flower for you. “How often should I water them?” You ask as you try to look for a vase or a spare pot that you would plant them in for the time being in your shop. You’d love to bring home a sapling of this down the line.

“Every three days.” He says after clearing his throat. If he didn’t, he would’ve stuttered through the tip. The look of pure glee in your eyes made him think that getting you the flowers was a good decision, at least it was good enough to make his chest feel warm. As you look through the pots in your shop, you realize there’s no space for them: looks like you’ll have to carry them for the entirety of the date.

He offers you the crook of his arm, for you to hold onto for the rest of the date. “So what’s the plan for tonight?” You ask as you gently hold onto his arm as he offered. The night was still young and there was so much they could do and for all you know he might pull more surprises.

“Well, for starters, you have the freedom to choose what we eat tonight. I figure it’s only fair to let you choose this time as it was my choice last time.” That’s right, you remember the last restaurant being expensive and him being able to pay with ease. A small part of you wonders if he could cover your further studies or help with the studio Wooyoung also works in.

The power to choose makes you hum in thought. Truthfully the decisions were countless. “How about pizza and pasta? I know a place you might like.” A short pause. “Well, we can look at the menu and see if you like it, if not we go elsewhere.” You offer.

You hate to admit that ever since knowing Yeosang’s the Archon, you started seeing him in a slightly different light. Maybe it’s your insecurities? Wondering who else did he love before you. Was it your jealousy? Wanting to know what he knows about this world and perhaps beyond-- along with his financial security. It can’t be helped, there have been times where you gave up something you eyed for more important things. Living on your own isn’t easy but at least you work at your own pace.

“Something on your mind?” Yeosang asks softly. He doesn’t want anyone listening in on them as he starts noticing fleeting glances at either you or him. It didn’t take much for him to know that your thoughts were running again. Your hand felt loose in his arm, and your footsteps felt like they were floating. It was funny to him how you reminded him of them yet still be your own person.

“Ah?” You hummed, blinking a few times to get back to reality. “Nothing too pressing, just curiosity over how life has been for you since Day 1.” You admit. You know of their existence: of Archons that bestow these visions, of beings that are half human, half something, or even not entirely human that walk with you. To be in their presence though, is another topic entirely. “Along with the chances of meeting the likes of your kind.”

He flashes a small smile at your honesty. “I see. All of which are understandable thoughts. I suppose I can tell you a few stories over dinner.” He promises. There’s something comforting in how he carries no hint of resentment, but it leads to more curiosity of what he has buried in all these years. “If time still permits today, I’ll show you some places that hold significance to me that people nowadays do not know of.”

“You say a lot of promises, Yeosang.” You note teasingly. As you do so, you gesture to the restaurant that you had set your eyes (and stomach) on. “Check out their menu first?”

He looks at the restaurant and chuckles. “My dear, San always pesters me about this place. I don’t eat here as often as he does but trust me, I have no issues with tonight’s choice.” He would come here often for San’s favorite especially after a long night of dealing with awry beings that try to wreck havoc. It’s enough to get him through a few hours until he crashes.

His words reassure you and thus, the two of you enter the premises, finding comfort in a booth, away from any eyes that could wander. After the orders have been made, you were left alone with him once more. From your place, you could watch people walk past the restaurant on one side, while the cars zoom past on the other. Yeosang lets you look around for a moment before he starts telling you some of his stories. “So which one would you like to know about?”

He answers your questions to the best of his ability. Yes, even if people try to recreate the food from the past, it’s still not the same, not even with the same ingredients, things just naturally changes over time and he has come to accept that. His current favorite is fried chicken though, even better if it’s the half-half type. He tells you about a plot of raised land on the other side of the river. You weren’t aware of this story: how that was initially something like a mountain only for him to flatten it with the force of water after an immortal being thought they were greater than the heavens that made them. He admits that the immortal was a dear friend of his who had changed as time passed them by. A god of earthquakes, he tells you. “So with that in mind, it’s impossible to fully wipe out any archon or immortal being.” Your inquisitive and sharp mind warms his heart. Humanity’s curiosity is their greatest downfall. Yet, this is what pushes beings like him to protect you and your kind. It’s what has kept your species going.

“Yes and no. This dear friend of mine, he can’t..” he trails off as he tries to find the right word, tilting his head in thought. “His material body cannot come back but his essence lives on. It explains the tremors we feel occasionally.” Some gods are forgotten as well, buried deep in the oceans he rules in where only the darkest parts of humanity’s consciousness can only remember. Yet from time to time, occurrences happen that tell him that there are people that still remember. Fortunately, before the discussion gets any depressing, the food arrives and he takes this chance to know more about you and anything you’re curious about with these flowers that rest on your lap.

He asks you about the latest social networking apps, he has the basics of where most people are but the other apps that entertain certain niches intrigue him. Though you didn’t have all the answers, he was sure he’d leave this restaurant knowing more than before. He finds out that your passion for baking and making different types of coffee came after you saw Wooyoung struggle juggling his dance team and studies. The daily expenses of buying coffee eventually build up over time so you take matters into your own hands. Now, you’ve got a shop up and running and the rest is pretty much history. He respects you for that. The Archon also realizes that perhaps San was right with this restaurant. Another restaurant to add to his options in the days to come.

The rest of the dinner goes well, lasting for two hours before the two of you decide to leave and walk around somewhere quiet. Somewhere that the two of you could get away from the constant bustle of modern life.

The walk to the quieter side of the city was a fruitful one. The conversation between the two of you never stops as each of you try to understand each other-- especially with you trying to understand his roots along with his riches. “So, you being.. An archon.. Is that how you were able to get that apartment?” You understand that he’s not quite immortal, having the ability to die as well but he does have the ability to live longer than most. You learned that gods can die, but deaths caused by humans have resulted in violent natural happenings.

“Yes and no.” He answers with a slight tilt of his lips. “Some of the objects from the historical collection are mine but I had to pull some legal strings to make the public think it’s from someone else, and for the stockholders to continue funding the museum. Some of them have been bought and sold through me to older gods and Archons who have passed on, some archaic family clans as well and so on.” He hints towards other groups with money that have helped fund his museum and keep them safe, though through less than morally ethical means. Simply put, the museum has helped him amass a big fortune with one part going to his anonymous safety for reasons and the other parts going to other necessities of the community around him.

Something stirs in you to explain something to him. “I suppose I owe you a story as well.” You admit softly. You start to tell him about your family life, how you grew up in a family that was passionate about their jobs: your father, a historian while your mother was a fairly known ceramist who also had a passion for what your father pursued. It’s through the attempts of recreating the pottery of the past that made their names fairly well known in those days-- also making you have a keen interest and skill in the history and the arts. Your father came across certain writings, unfamiliar to the academe but familiar to those who were interested in the taboo. He and your mother got too close, from what you understood. The pursuit of making connections and knowledge cost them their life. They made sure you were safe from everything, keeping you hidden from the perpetrators.

Wooyoung’s parents were close to yours, it took forever in a child's mind before they found you, hiding in a closet with the Regalia in your small hands. Once they found you, they made sure you didn’t see the aftermath. Their urns rest in a quiet columbarium out of town. Since then, you grew up with Wooyoung’s family. It’s not the same as having your actual parents grow with you but they did their best to step into their roles for you and for Wooyoung. “It’s been years, and I’ve learned to cope with the absence so please, don’t worry about me.” You reassure him. You’ve been so accustomed, so annoyed with the looks of pity given to you by others who know this story-- which are usually by word of mouth.

He lets his eyes wander around the scenery in front of him. The way the lights bounce against the water, the quiet hum of people milling about by the water. His eyes catch sight of a small family letting their kids play about by the water. The way you talk about your family makes him wonder how you were like when you were younger. The you he knows now is different from the you Wooyoung has known since he was a child. You don’t step into the same river but water always passes where it came from. Simply put, you are still you. Heavens be damned, because he’s enamored by you.

As you tell your stories, your eyes catch a glimpse of the same family. There’s something in your chest that twists that you cast your eyes downward. The flowers were still in your arms, you didn’t want to leave it in the stale air of the car.

He sees you look down at the flowers, your fingers fiddling with the wrapping and some of the petals. “Feel free to ask questions about them, my dear.”

Giving you that green light to ask immediately had you talking. “Okay, first question, How? I thought this didn’t exist anymore?” You remember the first dinner you had with him, how he bought a painting of the said flower and told you how rare it was. So how did he manage to get an actual one?

He finds a bench, away from people that were there for perhaps the same reasons as the two of you. He pats the spot next to him for you to sit down as well to which you oblige. Once you do so, he looks up at the sky, seeing the faint shimmers of the stars above. The waters will continue to move to a near unrecognizable state yet the stars no matter how much they move, they still look the same. The man next to you tries to figure out his words, but eventually he just decides to say it plainly. “I had the same thoughts as you, about its existence. San was the one who notified me of its reemergence. He found it growing in the museum’s garden, in full bloom every night.”

You stare at the lone blooming flower in your hands, wondering if there’s more in the garden, but one question suddenly nags at you. “Why did you give it to me when you’re heavily attached to this flower?” You were flattered, you can’t deny that-- a rare flower from someone who has been fluttering your heart? That was a unique way to be courted Yet, the lapse in thought bothers you, a rare flower that he obviously holds dear to him, given to you? What made him think of this?

“They were someone dear to me as well.” He starts. His voice takes on a more sober tone, making sure you were comfortable leaning on his shoulder. “A dear immortal as well, just like San and I.” It takes a few moments of silence for you to understand the gravity of their relationship. “They were someone well loved by the people, taught them how to handle resources on an economic point of view with other regions, taught them handiwork beyond that of warfare, a lot of things that were out of my field to put it simply..” He has already accepted and forgiven himself of his shortcomings to become someone like them at that time. “Their favorite flower is this, my love.” He says, his fingers fiddle with the edge of its wrapper. “Everyone associated it with them.” Despite the harsh cold that ice gives, it was also a time for trust. When it was too cold, they’d make shelter out of ice and various twigs and fur. If it was too hot, they provided them with cool winds. It’s why the Neve Jewel glows as such, depending on the season.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t protect them at their time of death.” His eyes stay still at the river that quietly flows past them. “Their last wish to me was to make sure the people survive the journey. Weird isn’t it? The god of water protecting the followers of Ice.” He rests his temple against yours. “Eventually after their passing, Neve Jewels ceased to exist. Until you came along.”

“Yeosang?”

“Mm?”

“What if I’m not them?”

“Yeosang, you know you need to be prepared to accept the fact they might not be your previous lover.”

It’s a question he’s considered since he met you. He admits, it wasn’t easy to consider accepting that you might not return. He remembers the concern in San’s face when he was still so hopeful.

“Of course, grief never leaves you. It always stays with you, you eventually learn how to live with it.” He tips his head in thought, acknowledging the weight of the concern.

You didn’t want to cry here: not when the date was going so well. A soft chuckle leaves your lips to loosen up the tight feeling in your chest. “Mhm, I guess so.” It’s a half hearted answer you have to admit but it was better than letting the silence cue the tears.

“But if you let me, I’ll still love you the same.”

A deep breath loosens the pulsating pain in your head from the unshed tears. “I guess life does work weirdly.” You add under your breath, leaning against his shoulder as you fiddle with the wrapping of the gifted flower.

He readjusts himself to make sure you don’t get uncomfortable. There’s something in your words that tells him, it would be better to shift the topic. “I’m a little disheartened that i never got to tour you around the museum but that’s alright, one of these days, I’ll bring you around, show you my favorite works and tell you some stories behind them.”

“I’d like that, sounds like you got a lot you’d like to share too.” You muse softly, taking in the scent of nature and him.

“I catch you lingering by the entrance sometimes.” Even though he has invited you and Wooyoung to stay in the museum’s offices with him for the sake of safety, you’d just linger by the souvenirs. You remember Wooyoung proposing the idea of having a small shop next to the souvenirs, but you shot it down. It’s not because you don’t think it’ll do well but because who else will manage the shop? Hongjoong’s a good candidate but until you’re certain he’ll stay after this mess.

With how everything is going, you wonder if he finds time to rest. “Please, you’ve got a lot on your plate. I’d rather not add to that, Yeosang.” You say with a breathy laugh of embarrassment.

“You know that I don’t mind your presence.” He’s been spending his hours with you after work for the past few months. “I wouldn’t have asked you on a date, if I did mind.” He tilts your chin gently to look at him.

His eyes, holy shit, you could drown in how they look: shades of blue with hints of green and streaks of white. The ocean resides in this man and you’d be damned if you didn’t feel yourself melt in his touch. “If it still isn’t obvious, my dear, I would like to ask you, if you are willing to be my lover?”

Something flashes at the corner of your eye, and it’s coming straight at you.

#my writings #yeosang fanfic #yeosang series #ateez series #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez au #ateez x reader #yeosang x reader #imagine this part with the previous part #too much would have happened in one chapter and i didn't want that

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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 4 years ago

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ADM Director's Cut: Iktibith E

This is in reply to THIS ask. Director's Cut is below the cut

I fled far away from the Company, my breath coming in ragged spurts as tears blurred my vision. All I could hope for was that nobody would follow me. I just wanted to be left alone.

Soon my feet left the familiar cobblestone of Rivendell’s paths and trod upon the plush, green grass. I had no plan of where I would go; I just knew I needed to get away.

Suddenly, I found myself on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the rushing river below. It reminded me of the stream back in Lothlorien, except more wild and unpredictable.

This part right here, where I began to describe Imladris, was kinda interesting to do because I just started to unconsciously start to compare it with Lothlorien and tried to connect Estel to it in some way.

A soft sigh escaped my trembling lips as I thought back to my foster mother and how she would take me out to the stream every day for a walk, balancing on the stones out in the gurgling waters and laughing if one of us got wet.

Oooo, this was interesting too because it was the very first time I ever mentioned Estel's foster mother and her backstory. This is truly where she began to grow as a character and take shape. Also note that I never specifically mention that her foster mother is an Elf... But it's kinda a given since I talk about her living within Lothlorien for a time.

I could still see her long brown locks tumbling down onto her shoulders, and blue eyes that sparkled with a merriment that still couldn’t quite conceal the pain she hid inside.

A pain she had never explained to me, other than a few passing words about a man she had loved very deeply, but had to leave. She told me about the young son she had left behind as well, a boy no more than two centuries old whom she and her husband–my foster father, I supposed, even though I had never met him–had named after the season of green leaves he had been born into.

Also another interesting-as well as hard--part to write as I described her foster mother's history and gave you guys some tidbits to get you wondering about who she was....

Thinking about my mother finally broke the dam holding back my tears, and I began to sob; shoulders shaking as my head fell into my hands.

It was only one word, but it rocked me to my very core. Not because of what it meant, but because of who said it.

My absolute favourite dialogue--well maybe not absolute, but up there in the top five ;). It really just packs this huge punch of emotion. Because really, if anybody else insulted Estel, she wouldn't really think twice about it. But since it was Thorin... well, that hurt pretty badly.

Back when Naneth had told me about the man she loved, I hadn’t understood her pain. But now I did; on a personal level. I knew there was something special about Thorin the moment I had laid eyes on him, but I hadn’t expected him to treat me with such blatant dislike.

Being raised in Elven culture, I had been taught about their belief in soulmates. The person who you just knew deep down in your soul was the one the first time you laid eyes on them. I didn’t know if Dwarves had such a belief or not, but the feeling I had felt deep inside me when I had first met him… It was as if we were two halves of a whole being drawn nearer to one another in order to complete ourselves.

But he obviously didn’t feel the same.

“Miss Estel?”

I quickly wiped at my tears, trying to steady my breathing. Of all the times in the world to approach me, he did it at the one time I didn’t want to be around him.

Heavy footsteps trod closer to me, but I didn’t look up to see who it was. I already knew from his voice.

“Leave me alone.” I growled out, turning my head away from him so he couldn’t see my tears in the bright moonlight reflecting from the river.

Thorin let out a sigh and proceeded to sit next to me, resting his arms on his knees as he looked out across the gorge. "I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I truly didn’t mean to do so, Miss Estel.“ He murmured quietly, and I distantly wondered if he had gone mad. Since when did Thorin Oakenshield apologize to anyone?

This was a bit of a delicate dance here since I was trying to make Thorin still seem aloof and unfeeling towards Estel--because he totally doesn't like her, that would just be crazy, right?--but I also wanted him to teach her Khuzdul.

I continued to hide my face from him, trying to use my midnight locks as a shield, but my attempts to quiet my running nose caught his attention.

"Are you crying?” Thorin asked softly, concern lacing his words. A hand rested itself on my shoulder and I started, whirling to look at him in confusion.

Oh this was funny too, since as a rule, Dwarrows are FIERCELY protective of their Ones and Thorin would be horrified to see that Estel is crying--which explains his uncharacteristic physical touch.

Honestly, his first reaction would be to try and make her feel better, as well as go murder the person responsible for making her cry--himself--but since he's obstinately denying that he is in love with her, he settles for just being concerned.

Thorin watched me with a furrowed brow, retracting his hand from my shoulder. I swallowed hard, turning away to wipe at my eyes. "No, I’m fine. Just leave me alone. I know you don’t want to be doing this.“ I said roughly, but Thorin shook his head, sapphire eyes turning to look at the ground.

"I’m sorry.” He murmured again, and I scoffed.

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything, Master Thorin. It’s cowardly to insult someone in a language they don’t understand, and ‘sorry’ won’t magically fix it.” I said, and Thorin’s gaze wandered over to my face.

“How do you not know Khuzdul? You are a Dwarrowdame.” He said, voice filled with confusion.

I bit my lip. He was beginning to tread on dangerous grounds, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it. One wrong word and I could end up on my own. "Personal reasons.“ I muttered, and Thorin opened his mouth, about to ask another question when I cut him off. "Personal reasons that I won’t be sharing, Master Thorin."

Yet another hard part to write. I really had to watch my wording here since I didn't want Estel to reveal any part of her upbringing to anybody yet, so giving Thorin an answer he wouldn't contest was a little difficult.

He nodded in understanding, his expression gaining a strange hesitance. "Would it help if I taught you Khuzdul?” He questioned, and I pulled my gaze away from the grove of maples I spotted on the other side of the gorge, raising an eyebrow.

“You would teach me?”

“Of course. All Dwarves should know Khuzdul.” He said, and I considered his offer, wondering just what strings were attached to this.

This is a good part. So of course, Thorin doesn't want to seem TOO nice, but I really needed him to be teaching her Khuzdul. So he just throws it out there, torn on whether he wants her to say yes--he would get to spend time with her and maybe find out about her backstory, who knows--but he also doesn't want her to say yes--he would be spending time with her and might mess up/make a fool of himself around her.

Of course, Estel is a bit skeptical about this--I mean, we are talking about the Dwarf who seems to want nothing more than to have her gone from this quest--but she goes along with it. (If I'm being honest, she probably would like to spend more time with Thorin too... ;))

There had to be something.

“And I wouldn’t be a burden?” I asked skeptically, and Thorin was quick to shake his head, dark brown hair falling onto his chest.

“No, you wouldn’t be more of a burden then you already are.” He said gruffly, and the faint feeling of warmth blossoming within me was snuffed out, only to be replaced with the familiar resentment of the Dwarrow sitting beside me.

My absolute favourite dialogue scene in this chapter beside the previous one I mentioned above. I just adore this part because it circles back around in Anrâd... Buzrâ when Estel brings this back up.

Backstory on Thorin's dialogue... To the person who isn't in Thorin's mind in this moment--everyone except me, haha!--this sounds like a really harsh comment that just reflects Thorin's feelings on Estel. Or maybe they recognize that he's just trying to maintain his gruff image. Either way, the true meaning behind his words is not revealed until Anrâd... Buzrâ.

That's when Thorin tells Estel that those words carried no weight for her since she was, and I quote: “You’ve never been a burden to me, Estel. Only the greatest gift Mahal could ever give.”

Now isn't that sweet?

“I accept your offer then. Thank you, Master Thorin.” I said sincerely, “but I have one question.”

“What?”

“What does 'amralimí’ mean?” I asked, and Thorin looked at me, his brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before he began to chuckle.

Note the purposeful misspelling of Amrâlimê here. I wanted to ensure that Estel didn't know the exact way to pronounce it since she might ask someone else to explain it for her. It also sounds more believable since she doesn't know the language, and therefore would be mispronouncing words quite easily.

“I’m afraid that I cannot tell you that just yet, Miss Estel. You will just have to be patient.” He said, standing up and rolling his shoulders. "Zann galikh. That means 'good night’.“ He said, striding away from me, back towards the paths of Rivendell.

Thorin's denial here is pretty characteristic of him. There might have been some internal panicking--we'll find out in the chapter of Matters of the Heart that covers this from Thorin's POV--and he's trying to figure out how to cover up his 'slip of the tongue'.

~~~~~

The next morning found me reluctantly packing my things so we could leave as soon as possible. I had hoped we could linger in Rivendell for awhile, but Thorin wanted to be off as soon as we could.

Here I really wanted to talk more about Estel's experience in Imladris, but I just kinda ended up skimming the entire thing, so hopefully I'll get around to writing a Bonus Chapter that covers it!

It would be an understatement to say that he disliked Elves. He hated them with every fibre of his being. But all this haste didn’t stop him from beginning to teach me Khuzdul.

"I am your ugshar; your teacher or one who is very learned in certain subjects.” Thorin said while I rolled up my bedroll. "Repeat the word.“

Rolling my eyes, I stared up at him. "Ugshar. Happy?” I asked and he nodded gravely.

“That is a good start.” He rumbled and then walked away from me, towards Dwalin who was leaning up against a wall inspecting one of his axes. "We’ll continue this later.“

As soon as he had turned his back to me, I threw up my hands in a gesture of defeat. I was never going to learn anything at this rate.

Estel is already frustrated with Thorin, isn't that funny? But anyways, Thorin is kinda nervous talking with Estel and he is looking for a way out of this situation and finds it in the form of Dwalin.

My guess in this moment is that Dwalin ribs him about Estel; says/does whatever guy friends say/do to their friends after they see them talking with their crush, idk.

"Hey, Estel.” A voice whispered and I turned to see Kili and Fili motioning for me to come towards where they stood, partially hidden by a pillar. "Come here.“

Letting out a quiet groan, I walked towards them as nonchalantly as I could and joined them beside the pillar. Crossing my arms, I gave them a no-nonsense look. "What do you want?” I asked, getting a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach at the sight of Kili’s cheeky grin.

“Rumor has it that Thorin offered to teach you Khuzdul.” Kili whispered conspiratorially and I nodded.

Nosy buggers getting involved with their Uncle's 'secret' crush already... I love these two.

“He did and it’s none of your business so bug off.” I said, making Kili snicker.

“I’m curious, why don’t you know Khuzdul. You are a Dwarf right? Or are you just a really short human woman, or–Mahal forbid--an Elf? Thorin might have a heart attack.” He said, and even though his words were in jest, I felt a small shiver of fear travel down my spine.

I really love the Easter egg I planted here; it's yet another beautiful piece of this chapter. I plant a little seed of suspicion here as Kili says '...Mahal forbid--an Elf?"

Thorin doesn't like Elves, I state that many, many times and Estel knows that very well. It also ties in with Estel's mental description of her foster mother.

Again, note that I never specifically stated that her foster mother was an Elf. But right here, I actually reveal that her foster mother is indeed an Elf, because of Estel's reaction to Kili's words. If she had been raised by a human woman in Lothlorien, she wouldn't worry so much about Thorin's reaction to her upbringing.

But she is concerned, and that just reaffirms the belief that she was raised by Elves. It's also just a funny line of dialogue from Kili as he is his usual dramatic self.

“It’s none of your business.” I repeated, but Kili didn’t want to let the subject go.

“What has Uncle dearest taught you so far?” He asked, and I shrugged.

“The word for teacher and that’s it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do before we head out or Thorin’s going to kill me.” I said, turning away and beginning to walk away from the two annoying brothers.

But Fili and Kili reached out and grabbed my arms, pulling me back. "I doubt he’d kill you, Estel… I can guarantee you that thought has never once entered his mind.“ Fili laughed, and I gave him an incredulous look.

Fili slips up a bit here and reveals that Thorin cares for Estel. Not that my oblivious little Dame realizes that...

"Are you daft? Wait, don’t answer that. I already know the answer.” I said, making Fili frown at my teasing. "Have you seen how he treats me? The way he looks at me? And you think he hasn’t ever once thought that I’m an annoying burden?“ I asked, and Kili and Fili gave me astonished looks as though I had just said some sort of blasphemy.

Kili began stuttering unintelligibly, his brown eyes wide with shock. Fili was a bit more eloquent and started to say something, but a sudden deep voice behind me cut him off.

Here Estel blows Fili and Kili's minds as she talks about Thorin in such a way. They thought that it was obvious to her that Thorin liked her and all that--again, noting that they all believe she is a Dwarrowdame raised by Dwarves. So now they are wondering why Estel doesn't like Thorin and are going to try and change the tide.

"Fili, Kili, what are you doing? Have you gotten everything packed up?” Thorin boomed, and I whirled around to see him walking towards us, his steel blue eyes smoldering.

The brothers muttered something about being almost done and quickly darted off, leaving me and Thorin alone.

“Were those two Lalkîths bothering you?” He asked, stopping in front of me, and I cocked my head, not understanding his word of choice. "Young idiots.“ Thorin clarified after taking in my puzzled expression, and I nodded in understanding.

"A bit. They dragged me over here to ask if it was true that you offered to teach me Khuzdul.” I said, and Thorin raised an eyebrow.

“Did they tell you anything?” He asked, and I shook my head, wondering why this was so important. "Good.“

Is it or is it not apparent that Thorin is deathly afraid of his sister-sons revealing his feelings about Estel to her? I mean, by this point, literally everyone in the Company--except for Estel--knows that Thorin is head-over-heels for Estel.

I opened my mouth to ask him why, but he had already turned away from me and was striding away, barking orders at everyone else.

I watched him go, Fili’s words echoing in my mind. ”...I can guarantee you that thought has never entered his mind.“

There was a meaning to his words, I knew it, but I couldn’t figure out just what it was. Perhaps it would be the key to understanding Thorin; the Dwarrow that seemed to change the moment you thought you had him figured out.

Estel is a bit confused over Fili's words and how they relate to Thorin, since she really doesn't even consider the idea that *gasp* Thorin might actually like her back.

#director's cut #thorin x estel #adm #a deep misunderstanding #chapter 3 #iktibith E #the hobbit #fanfic #fanfiction #thorin #thorin x oc #fili #kili #the company #imladris #rivendell

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writerbyaccident · 4 years ago

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Souvenir (Yandere Present Mic/Hizashi Yamada x Reader)

Request: Requests open?? Do you think you could do Present Mic stealing his darling's panties? Or stealing things of hers in general? Also your writing is so good, I love it!! You're really good at pacing, nothing drags on for too long. It all reads very naturally.

Hizashi’s excitable nature was hardly a secret. He was enthusiastic in every part of his life, as a teacher, as a radio host, and as a hero. But still, he didn’t think he had ever been as electrified as he was now, standing outside your door. Bouncing rapidly on the balls of his feet, Hizashi peered through the small window on top of your door, wondering if he should ring your doorbell again. When he checked his watch though, he saw that not even ten seconds had passed since he first pressed it, so he forced himself to wait a little while longer.

He just couldn’t help it though! This was the very first time he had ever even been to your house, it was a huge step forward in your relationship! You two were finally becoming closer, and after today your relationship would finally move to the next step. Right now you were just friends, but Hizashi was more than ready to change that. Clearly you were ready for that too, or you wouldn’t have invited him in the first place! Yeah, today he was visiting, but Hizashi was sure that before long you’d be asking him to spend the night. And soon after that, you would be ready to move in with him!

His fervent daydreams were suddenly interrupted though as he spotted you through the window. Hurriedly, Hizashi leaned down to the doorknob, trying to make sure that he looked his absolute best. You deserved nothing less, after all. But his double checking was cut short when the door was swung open, with you giving him a bemused smile.

“Uh, hey, Hizashi,” you chuckled. “What’re you doing?”

“Oh, um, hey songbird. I was just fixing my shoe.”

Quirking an entertained eyebrow, you stepped back to let him inside. Hizashi practically ran inside, more than ready to see what secrets your home hid, to see what juicy new tidbits he could learn about you. What books were on your shelves, what food was in your fridge, what kind of toothpaste you used, he wanted to know it all, every last piece of you. No, he thought to himself as he looked around, it was more than want. He needed every last piece of you, needed it all to himself. As Hizashi journeyed further inside, he breathed in deeply, trying to drown himself in your scent, the scent that he had only been able to get hints of before, but now could taste in abundance.

“Here, let me take your jacket,” you said.

“Aw,” Hizashi answered, finding your consideration adorable. “That’s okay though, I got it.”

Making his way to your coat closet, Hizashi grinned to himself. You were just such a sweetheart, wanting to take care of him like that. But what kind of soulmate would he be if he let you lift a finger? Besides, if he was being honest, there was a slightly selfish reason for his insistence. For as he hung up his jacket, Hizashi took the opportunity to brush his fingers against the jackets and scarves you had stored there, as if by touching them he was touching you by proxy.

“Alright then, you ready for me to kick your ass?”

“We’ll see about that,” Hizashi teased. “Video games are the thing I’m best at—other than teaching, DJing, heroing, and being incredibly handsome of course.”

“Let’s see if you can play as well as you brag then,” you responded.

“First though, can I use your bathroom?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. It’s upstairs, second door on your left.”

Nodding in thanks, Hizashi hurried up the stairs, though not for the reason that you believed. No, the moment that he made it to the second floor, he headed not for the bathroom, but for your bedroom. Now, don’t get him wrong, he was still interested in seeing your bathroom of course, just as much as he was interested in seeing every part of the place that you lived, your bedroom was undoubtedly the most important. It was your most private space, the pace where you were the most you, and as your future boyfriend, that meant that Hizashi had no other choice but to take a look.

When he found the room that he was looking for, Hizashi had to pause and take a deep breath to prepare himself. Slipping in quietly, making sure that no sound of a creaking door would reach you downstairs, tears filled Hizashi’s eyes when he made it inside. It was just so beautiful, so breathtaking, seeing all of those pieces of you surrounding every inch of the room. With no time to lose, Hizashi walked further in, memorizing each poster, each piece of jewelry, each chip in the wall. Laying down carefully on your bed, the blond hero nuzzled your pillow, closing his eyes and imagining how gorgeous you must look resting upon it.

The moment that Hizashi opened his eyes though, something new caught his attention. There, in the opposite corner from your bed, was what could only be a laundry basket. His body moving of its own accord (not that his mind was too unhappy about that), Hizashi approached the hamper, his breath held in anticipation. When he finally reached the basket, he did not bend down. Rather, he kneeled, practically supplicating before the shrine he had discovered. Slowly, as if he wasn’t entirely sure if he was worthy, Hizashi reached inside the basket, simply letting his fingers brush over your clothes until he found something soft and lacy to grab onto.

Praying that what he had stumbled onto was what he thought it was, Hizashi pulled the article of clothing out of the hamper, his eyes wide and shining when he saw that it was in fact a pair of your panties. As he brought the panties to his face, inhaling your scent deeper than ever before, Hizashi realized just how perfect this was. Here he was, at your house for the very first time, and what should he find waiting so eagerly for him? This piece of you was clearly meant to be his souvenir, meant to commemorate this first step in your relationship.

And so, as he stood to go back downstairs and join you, Hizashi slipped your panties into his pocket.

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revengeworld · 4 years ago

Text

Meat V

Werewolf! Flip x Reader - Medieval AU

Word Count: +3.100

Warnings: SMUT - Still hate writing it :B

AN: This will be a six Part series. It has nothing to do with the movie and is a complete medieval AU with it’s own lore about werewolfs. I thought it might be an interesting turn on it :>

MY MASTERLIST ♥

The day before the Full Moon ritual the mother of the gang of pups returned and for once their hut was silent again. Flip needed to admit that he actually had enjoyed the days while they had been visiting but he was also excited to share some privacy with his human again.

Tomorrow he would finally be in his own human form again, a form were he wouldn’t be able to harm her, be able to show her how much he adored her. Kiss her, cherish her and love her how she deserved.

And still, he wasn’t even sure if she would want that.

Since Flip had told her what he was feeling for her, none of them had ever mentioned it again.

But at least her behaviour towards him hadn’t changed, he thought to himself while he had buried his snout against her chest, while she calmingly brushed with one hand over his head while they were sitting outside the hut, enjoying the few rays of sunshine that were shining through the opening in the cave ceiling.

“I will have to go soon. I should make sure if it was true if they want us there at the ceremony.”

If it really was true, Flip found it a cruel way to show their dominance over Y/N who would endure a slaughter of one of her own people.

“Would it be alright if I would join you? I would like to talk to them myself.”

“I don’t think they would have anything against that, but why?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since I've been living with you, but maybe there is a way which would benefit both your and my people…. I.. I’m not sure if they will like it, but it would at least be worth a try right?”

Slowly lifting his head, he looked closely at her hopeful expression and softly licked over her lips.

“They will at least listen to your request and who knows, maybe they will listen to it. I could.”

“Then… could you ask the wolf whose turn it is to come as well?”

Raising his brows, he found it a bit odd but soon shrugged with his shoulders. It couldn’t hurt to try. “I will let them know.” reluctantly he escaped Y/Ns warm embrace to stand on the edge of the cliff that dropped down to the edge of town.

When Flip let out a loud howl, Y/N quickly laid her hands over her ears and waited until her beasts booming call stopped and she slowly walked towards him.

Stretching out her arms, she soon felt Flips strong ones wrapping around her waist before he carefully pulled her into a hug.

With a relaxed sigh, she rested her head against his broad chest while they waited for an answer that soon came echoing from the other edge of the wolf town.

“All of them will be waiting for us.” he translated the howled answer to his love before he nudged her with his snout.

“Well, then we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” she smiled up at him, even though he noticed the nervous tone in her voice.

Standing in front of the three elder wolves, Y/N tried to hide the trembling of her hand while she was clutching at the cloth of her red cloak.

“We heard of the selfless deed you did for our pack to look after our youngest. We like to thank you for that.” one of the elders spoke and a shiver ran down Y/Ns spine than it was an even deeper voice than Flips. It was frightening but also fascinating how much their wolf forms distorted the voices they had in human forms.

“It was a pleasure to look after them.” Y/N slightly bowed to acknowledge their words of gratitude.

“It is good to see that you are welcoming to our kind as much as we are accepted of you.” another spoke, this time it was a women’s voice, Y/N noticed.

“Which shows that humans and wolves could work together.” Flip suddenly joined the conversation and she could feel her beasts paw on her lower back, knowing that he wanted to support and calm her.

“In a way. But that was to be expected since she is a part of our pack now since you decided to even mark her with your sigil. Making her a member of your own bloodline. It was a clever move, even if she would stay blinded.”

“I didn’t know! It was to-” he could feel Y/Ns hand suddenly hold onto his and with a sigh, he gently tightened his grip.

“But it still proves that even a human could live among us in peace! Even if she is one of our pack, she still stays human just like we turn into ones when the full moon stands at his highest point.”

“What is the point you try to prove with your statement?”

“That the sacrifices could be much more benefitting to both sides.” before Flip could answer Y/N had already stated the mayor point why she came with him.

“And how is that, human?” Flip watched in surprise while the elders made themselves more comfortable, which meant they were actually intending to listen to her.

“I … would like to wait until-” but she didn’t came any further since another wolf marched into the cave with wet footsteps that were echoing from the stone walls.

“What did I miss?”

“The human, Y/N, seems to have an interesting proposition to make. Which would involve your choosing before the ritual.”

“Oh? So, the little tidbit has something to say?”

“You better choose your words more wisely.” Flip instantly growled at the other. He wouldn’t let anyone from the pack show his human any disrespect.

“Or what, Flip? Don’t you call her ‘meat’? You should think of a better nickname then yourself.” the wolf sat down right next to Y/N and she could feel his breath fan against her skin while he took a whiff from her.

“So, start yapping little maiden. I have a village I need to be at.”

Y/N was confident and thorough with her explanation about her plan. How there were enough old people in the villages here in the valley that would be welcoming death with open arms in their old age. How they had already fought against the beasts themselves and how it would be smarter to get rid of them first since they knew the truth and how to fight the beasts in the woods. And even though the wolves looked quite interested in her plan, Flip knew exactly that it wasn’t to benefit the wolves perse but to relieve the old and sick from the torment of keeping on living even though they would greet death like an old friend.

“The younger villagers already believe in the tails that gods of the forests are choosing them to bring them to some sort of paradise, they wouldn’t fight against it. I believed those tails as well until I got to know the truth.”

“She has a point.” the wolf next to her yawned. Even though he sounded bored it sounded like he was on her side, which was reassuring to know for Flip. Looking up at the three elders, they were still letting that information sink in before the one with the deepest voice started to nod.

While they whispered to each other, the other wolf stood up.

“I will accept your method, little maiden. I will be on my way!” he called to the elders and vanished out of the cave.

“We as well, will rethink your method and might rethink out methods.” the elders stated and Y/Ns legs almost gave out under her, then her knees got weak with relief.

Feeling Flips arm around her hip, she started to chuckle before she wrapped her arms around his torso.

“There is something else I like to ask. Abby appeared the day we took in the pups, How did no one notice that she made her way back into the mountain. She lied that you send her to remind us to attend the ritual.”

“She was banished. Of course, we didn’t send her to send a message to you. We will let the Soldiers search for her. And no, you don’t have to attend it, but until the next one we might want to see you there..”

“Thank you, Then we will take our leave.” bowing the slightest, Flip already had his arm around Y/Ns hip before he lifted her up to quickly leave the mountain layer.

He hated it here, all the older wolves who were throwing him accusing glances since he had taken in Y/N. They disagreed with his choice. He knew that from the start and it made him even more aware under which circumstances he finally got to have this wonderful human by his side.

Out of reflex, he nudged with his snout against her cheek to seek comfort and she gently let her hand run over it, which calmed him.

He wanted nothing but the best for her, but was he really the one who could make her happy?

Standing in front of a roaring fire, Y/N was humming while she was swinging her pan over the hot flames.

Since they had talked with the elders, she was in a good mood since everything had gone way better than she had ever imagined it would.

But she had also noticed that her beast hadn’t said a word since they had left the depths of the mountain.

“Would you like your meat seasoned for tomorrow?” she called over her shoulder but didn’t get any answer.

Listening closer, she could hear the oh so familiar gnawing while he probably bit down on the same bit of dried meat since he had put it in his mouth.

With a deep sigh, Y/N placed the already hot pan towards the side in the stone oven before she turned around and made her way carefully towards her silent beast.

Suddenly feeling her two small hands on his shoulders he looked down at Y/N who was climbing onto his lap before she cuddled up against his chest.

“You are quiet....” she noted when he gently leaned his head against hers.

“Just thinking.” laying his arm around her waist he took a deep breath.

“Is it because of the Fullmoon Ritual tomorrow? They said we didn’t need to go. So there is no need to worry.” it was the first thing that came to her mind when she had noticed that he wasn’t his usual self.

“It’s… it’s not just about that.”

“What is it about then?” she asked while lifting her head, trying to turn her head to look barely at him.

“It’s about the last one...”

For a moment, her brows furrowed, not being able to place why the last one would have been so important until she realized. It was her ritual. Her sacrifice. The night she was supposed to die before Flip saved her.

“I don’t understand, do you regret-”

“No! I don’t regret that you are with me, but… It is my fault that you are still blind. My fault that you can’t even leave the Forest… This is not what I wanted for you. And the only way is to kill the one who cursed you, so you could finally be free.” he scoffed out of frustration.

Listening to his words, Y/N needed a moment to understand what he was implying. If he would kill the wolf who had placed the curse onto her, he would immediately sign his own death sentence. And he would do it, she could tell by the tone of his voice how serious he was. Her beast really was in love with her but was too blinded by it to see the love she had for him.

“Who said I wanted my sight back?” she suddenly asked, surprised.

“Wha-”

“And who said I don’t have my freedom? The day we scattered my dress at the edge of the forest for my family to find it, I chose to be with you. I want to be here … ”

“But-”

“No, there are no ‘but’s’. I want to be here. So, stop your pouting and tell me what you want to be prepared for dinner tomorrow when you will be human again.” when she wanted to slip from his lap again his arms around her waist tightened so she couldn’t get away from him.

“Stay… we can just do it tomorrow together...” he mumbled pleadingly, scared that she might refuse his request.

With a soft smile, she lifted her arms back up to wrap them around his neck.

“I’m not leaving you. I Promise.”

The next evening, Flip was quietly sitting on his chair, watching Y/N while her hands worked on the dough for the meat pastries that she wanted to prepare for when he would turn human for a day again.

Taking a relaxed and deep breath he leaned his head on his paw while he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He would watch her for hours if he could but he already noticed that little smirk on the corner of her lips.

“You’re staring again.” she hummed, sweetly.

“Noo~.” he said innocently before he let out a long yawn which ended into a little yelp, his ears twitching slightly.

The howling had started, the sign that the Full Moon RItual would begin soon.

“Wh...What’s happening?” Y/N asked scared and Flip leaned over the table to nudge her head.

“The ritual has started. No need to worry.” he reassured her while he started to nibble on her ear and she quickly pulled her head away with a chuckle.

“Perfect timing then.” forming the dough into a ball she laid it into one of the clay bowls and laid a piece of cloth over it.

“Mhmm, what are you doing? Don’t you have to make the pastries?” he asked, a bit disappointed but she only smiled at him.

“No, the dough needs to rise. I know you never actually saw how I did them and only ate them, but they need a bit of time.” suddenly cupping his snout, she pressed a gentle kiss on its side before he let out an excited howl and started to lick her face.

Trying to avoid his attack of kisses she quickly laid her hands on his snout to softly press it down so he would listen to her next words.

“So, since we won’t be going to the ritual… Can we go to the hot springs again?” Y/N asked sweetly and how he could say no to that pleading expression.

Even though he wasn’t really in the mood, he nodded the slightest and again he heard that lovely chuckle of hers which was melting his heart.

“Let me gather our stuff then.” he offered, while she clapped her hands together with a giggle. Maybe it was just his imagination, but while he had packed her cloak and some clothes for both of them and even now when they were walking together on the stony path, her heart was beating fast with excitement this entire time.

Glancing down at his arm where she was cuddled up against, it seemed like she had a constant smile on her lips, even her expression seemed flustered. Was he missing something? Was today a special day, besides the Full Moon ritual? He really couldn’t place why he was in such a nervous and giddy mood.

While Flip placed down their bags, Y/N was occupied with loosening the string in the front of her dress.

Calmly watching her, the beast suddenly felt that familiar sting in his heart. Clutching his chest, he was thrown on his knees by the amount of pain he was feeling right now. It was worse than normal, which made him anxious that something might be wrong. Digging with his claws into the dirt under him they soon turned into fingers while he tried to endure and manage his breaths. His growling and yelping soon turned into strained breathing and groaning until it was as suddenly over as it had appeared.

Quickly lifting his head to make sure that Y/N was safe, his eyes widened in shock at the sight in front of him.

Y/N had already entered one of the big pools of the hot spring, her body completely naked and exposed while she had her back still turned towards him. He watched while she let her fingertips run through the hot water that was around her hip.

Without wasting another moment, Flip pushed himself off the ground and she could soon hear his hectic footsteps wading through the water to reach her.

As soon as she turned around to him, she could feel his rough human hands cupping her face before his plum lips gently laid against her smiling ones.

Finally, she thought, he must’ve realised that her feelings were the same as his. She was giving herself over to her beast, completely.

Softly grabbing onto his wrists, Y/N just as eagerly returned his kiss and pressed her body closer against his.

It didn’t take long that Flip finally lost his patience, his body had ached for her for so long that he didn’t want to wait another moment if she would accept.

“Y/N… ” desperately whispering her name, he gently leaned his forehead against hers.

“It’s okay, my loving beast.” she reassured his unspoken words and softly rested her hand against the side of his face.

Before she could even say another word, Flip had already sealed her lips with his again and tightly wrapped his arm around her waist to pick her up. Laying her arms around his neck, her legs had already found a hold on each side of his hip, neither of them being able to stop their hunger for the other.

Carefully making his way back to the edge of the hot spring, Flip gently laid Y/N on the stony ground, letting his lips explore her feverish warm skin, trailing over her neck and collarbone.

Soon she was mewling under him, one hand buried into his black locks while the other was holding onto his big one. His raspy breath was fanning against her ear before he dug his teeth softly into her neck. Nibbling on her hot flesh while he thrusted his hip into hers with more force.

He felt her fingers grabbing his hair tighter and her nails digging into the skin of the back of his hand before she whimpered the words he so desperately had wanted to hear from her.

“Flip, I love you ...”

“I love you too, my precious little human.” he whispered against her lips.

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