#i should count how many books i have... NO DON"T

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Slide (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: T - language, suggestiveness, whump/blood/injury Word count: 5.4k

Summary: Benedict takes you on holiday to a remote bothy in the Scottish highlands. But things do not go according to plan.

Author's Note: This is an anon request fill for Benedict and Reader stranded in a cabin with an illness/injury. You can't threaten me with a whumpy good time, because this idea completely took over my brain and I wrote it in a day. 😅 Enjoy

“We should take advantage of the break in the rain. Let’s go on a little hike.”

“A hike?” You looked up from the sofa where you sat curled with a book. Benedict was standing by the door of the bothy, excitedly pulling on a coat. You had been having a relaxing holiday. Five days in a private luxury bothy in the Scottish highlands. He had been coming to the spot alone for years to paint and now wanted to share it with you under the pretense of your dating anniversary. You didn’t know if you believed such things deserved celebration, but your work in the city had been draining you lately and the reprieve was much appreciated. 

As luck would have it, your trip coincided with the rainiest weather in decades. It was always raining somewhere in Scotland but this was something else entirely. Torrential downpours for sporadic periods each day. But that hadn’t dampened your time together. Thus far, four days of nothing but lie-ins and fireside bottles of wine; reading while Benedict painted from imagination; lazy sex in the mornings and raucous sex at night. It was a bit dangerous that the bed was lofted, as your activities threatened to send you flying off of it. The little hideaway was so secluded that there was no internet and no cell signal, and that was one of the reasons Benedict loved it so much. He said he could hear his muse more clearly without the rest of the world butting in. Neighbors were also an impossibility, as the bothy was situated in a little copse of trees accessible only by crossing a footbridge that skirted a rough cliff edge. Nothing too high off the ground, but narrow enough that your car was parked half a mile away on the other side of the bridge. It was a tiny paradise, just you and the trees and the birds. The rain had occasionally relented to allow you a few rambles nearby, but you hadn’t undertaken anything as ambitious as to be called a ‘hike’.

Benedict was pulling his boots on and waving you toward the door. “Come on! Fresh air will do us good. Let’s go.”

You were remiss to leave your cozy nest but you knew he was right, and his crooked smile was irresistible. With a sigh you rose to your feet, donned your own coat and followed him.

He took your hand as you traipsed through the wet grass down the trail toward the bridge. The air had an earthy musk scent from the previous night’s deluge. It did feel good to stretch your legs. You didn’t even bother asking where you were headed, you would let Benedict lead you. But he suddenly stopped short. 

“You’ve got to be joking.” 

The path before you no longer led to the footbridge. Instead it ended abruptly at a slanting jumble of boulders. A rockslide off the side of the nearby cliff had completely blocked your exit.

You both stood dumbstruck, puzzling out your next steps.

“I don’t know how we didn’t hear this,” you murmured, imagining the rumbling crash of so many large stones piling upon themselves. 

Benedict chuckled next to you. “Well, one of us was being exceptionally noisy last night.”

You smacked him but it only made him laugh harder. Your frustration was building, so unused to being confronted with an obstacle you couldn’t quickly surmount. Or perhaps you could.

“I’m going to climb over.” You said definitively. “It looks solid enough. I’ll get to the other side, go back to the car and get help so this can get cleared away.”

“Well, I’m going with you.” Ben’s brow furrowed, something anxious in his eyes.

You shook your head. “Maybe. But one at a time. Let me test it out and find the footholds. I’m lighter than you.”

“Be careful,” he urged, but you were already clambering onto the nearest rock, pulling yourself over the larger pieces and tentatively resting your weight with each careful step. The top of the mound rose about eight feet off the ground and you scrabbled your way to it easily enough. Standing on top, you could see on the other side that the footbridge was still intact. It gave you a surge of confidence and you stepped forward, eager to scurry down the other side. Then everything sank, your stomach and your optimism as your right foot found a weak spot and shuddered downward in a small cascade of stones, sinking in up to your thigh until you felt it pinned at the ankle, the rocks trapping you in place.

“Shit!” You hissed, tugging uselessly to free yourself. It didn’t hurt, but it had immobilized you.

“What’s wrong?” Ben called from below, panicked.

You gritted your teeth. God, this was embarrassing. Off you had gone with bravado and now the universe was going to show you better. It was going to double down in fact, because you felt the first drops of rain spattering you from the dull grey sky. You clawed at the stones around your leg, able to toss some aside but others were so large you’d never be able to lift them. An animal part of your brain was starting to flood with fear, but you fought to keep your voice steady.

“I’m bloody stuck.” You lamented. “My leg is caught.” It wasn’t a request for assistance, but you should have known how he would react. 

“Hang on, I’m coming!” From your vantage point you could see Ben dash forward and begin to climb the rocks, not caring to test the stability of his steps, just rushing toward you. You opened your mouth to tell him to slow down, but your voice caught in your throat as everything suddenly rumbled, an ominous herald of what was coming. You both froze, staring wide eyed and feet apart from one another. Then everything shifted and fell away. 

Your entire sense of gravity tilted as the rocks beneath and around you slid, all jumbling together as they surged further away from the cliffside. You felt your leg snap within the grinding stone and cried out, landing on your side and feeling a jagged edge glance across your forehead. Your eyes fell on Benedict clamoring to reach you as he lost his own footing on the tumbling wave. He was unsuspecting, his eyes locked only on you when a massive boulder came rolling as easily as a toy ball and slammed into his side, knocking him out of view and into the tumult of roiling earth beneath you. You screamed his name but it was lost to the thunderous clatter. 

Amidst the chaos, one thought began to form clearly in your mind. This was how you would die. Crushed in a rockslide thanks entirely to your own stupidity. And worst of all, you had dragged Ben with you. The nightmare deepened as the sky ripped with a clap of thunder and rain began to pummel you in earnest as everything continued to slide and roll around you. Numb with anguish, all you could do was bury your face in your hands and wait for fate to claim you.

But it didn’t. In what felt like only a moment, everything stilled. The rocks had stopped moving, their sound had died away, and you were lying on top of the mound sensing nothing but the cold patter of heavy rain. You were still alive, a fact that was confirmed by the burning pain you felt pulsing in your leg. Looking down you saw that it was freed, released from the churning rocks, but it was bloodied and wouldn’t respond to your attempts to move it. Though it was a novel experience for you, there was no doubt in your mind that it was broken.

That was the least of your worries. As you came back to your senses they all tuned to one goal. You had to find Benedict. You called out for him, voice croaking, but were met with silence. You pushed yourself up to look around. The slide hadn’t buried the trail any further, only shifted on top of itself. You could see the path back to the bothy on one side and the footbridge on the other. But no Benedict. You screamed his name again, louder. Nothing. A sickening dread started to rise from your stomach as you began to pull yourself over the rock. You couldn’t stand properly and even if you could, you didn’t want to risk disturbing anything. It was better to spread your weight across the surface and so you began to slither on your belly, fingers bloodying themselves on rough edges as you dragged along in the direction you had last seen him. Everything was turning slick and muddy with the rain. You moved back down toward the trail, eyes sweeping, and just near the bottom is where you saw a spot of orange amidst the rubble. His shirt.

“Ben!” You shrieked, half-rising on your good leg to hobble over to him. You reached the bottom of the rock pile and saw him lying at the edge of it. You chanted his name desperately as you landed at his side. He was on his back mostly unhidden, a few small stones piled around his limbs which you pushed away, but one large one wedged over the right side of his chest. He was frighteningly pale and seemingly unconscious, lying still as he was battered by rain.

“Ben,” you called to him, taking his face in your hands. “Ben, wake up!” When he didn’t respond, your heart started hammering. No, no, no. You bent an ear to his mouth, silently praying to every deity you had ever heard of. To your great relief, he was breathing. But he was struggling. Your eyes landed on the boulder, covered in lichen and mocking you. You suddenly hated it more than you had hated anything in your life. With a surge of strength you didn’t know you possessed you drove yourself against it, leveraging with your good knee. It felt like fighting a brick wall and yet somehow after a moment, it loosened and you shoved until it tumbled backward and off of Benedict. 

Immediately he took a loud, wheezing inhale followed by a groaning “Fuuuuucccckkkkk.”

You would have laughed with relief if you were not so strung out on adrenaline and hell bent on getting as far away from this death trap as possible. 

“Ben,” You shook him lightly. “Benedict, open your eyes.” 

He did so, blinking against the rain, taking a moment to focus. Those bright, gentle eyes gazed back at you and made you feel rooted to the earth again. 

“We need to get back to the bothy. Can you stand?”

He stared at you, seeming dazed, then brought a hand to your forehead, speaking softly. “You’re bleeding.”

As his fingers came away red, you were surprised that you didn’t feel any pain other than the dull throb of your leg. None of this was important right now. You had to get to shelter and then you could assess all of your wounds.

“I’m alright.” You stated firmly. “We need to go, come on now.”

He wrapped his right arm around your shoulders, the sleeve of his coat ripped and dirtied. You braced against each other as best you could and tried to stand but both fell back with shouts of pain, you unable to tolerate any weight on your shattered leg, and him clutching at his right side. You were in bad shape, but had no other options than to push through. No one was coming to help you and neither of you would leave the other.

You locked into each other’s eyes, breathing hard, and a silent understanding passed between you. Now was not a time for weakness. You would need to be strong for each other. You banded your arms around each other once again and, wincing and gasping, slowly staggered to your feet. Ben leaned heavily across your shoulders while you hopped on your left foot and dragged the other behind you.

Somehow through the pouring rain, with the screaming throb in your leg and Benedict swaying weightily beside you, you inched back along the trail to the bothy, soaked to the bone once you finally shambled inside. You maneuvered to gingerly lay Benedict onto the sofa but he still cried out at the movement. Then he laid still, eyes screwed shut against the pain as he exhaled raggedly through his nose. Spurred to action, you hopped loudly around the small space gathering towels, blankets, water, and the tiny first aid kit stashed in a cupboard. What use it would be, you didn’t know, but it was all you had. You checked your phone, already knowing there was no signal to dial out but instinctively needing to confirm it. Your mind spun. Plans. Actions. Steps. You were going to fix this. You were going to get out of this situation. You just had to keep your head, which was significantly harder to do when the man you loved was lying nearby as pale as a ghost and groaning. But you could get yourselves warm and dry. That was a first step.

After stoking a fire in the woodstove you lowered to sit next to the sofa, clumsily tumbling onto the floor as you winced at the shooting ache in your leg. Benedict’s eyes flew open and he looked at you with concern. “Your leg’s broken?” He intuited.

“Mmhmm,” You nodded, breathing through the pain. “But I’m fine. We need to check you out.”

You mopped his hair and face with a towel, the friction and heat from the nearby stove bringing some color back to his skin. You searched his eyes.

“What hurts? How do you feel?”

He grimaced. “Dizzy, but not too bad. I don’t know if I’m concussed or if I just got hit by a great bloody bunch of rocks.” He ended with his telltale smirk.

You were feeling anything but humorous at that moment. His joke made your insides seize, worried something may be seriously wrong.

“Have you been concussed before? Do you know what it feels like?”

He grinned further. “I have. You don’t grow up with seven siblings and not end up concussed. This doesn’t feel the same, but I can’t be sure.” Your mind started to quest through any errant information you had about concussions. He could read the panic in your expression and brought a hand to wrap around yours. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. If I start to go loopy that’s not a good sign, but I really think I’m okay.”

All you could do was nod tightly, imagining a dozen horrific scenarios and realizing there was little to nothing you could do about them. You simply had to stay focused on the moment and the fact that he was clear headed now. 

“What else?”

He waved a hand vaguely over his right side. “Something bad, here.”

As carefully as you could, you worked in tandem to peel off his sopping coat while bit back yelps of agony. You frowned at the sight of his right arm, scraped and lacerated shoulder to wrist, but it didn’t appear to be broken. Then you lifted the hem of his t-shirt and he arched as best he could so that you could pull it off, turning his face away as he seethed into the cushions. You sucked in a breath, horrified by what you had uncovered. A bruise, black and purple and green, mottling the entire side of his body and rippling with each breath. Cursing to yourself, you rested fingertips lightly over it and even that caused him to flinch. 

“I think…” you wavered. “I think your ribs are broken.”

He stared at the ceiling, his voice tight but sarcastic. “Yep, that feels about right.”

“Can you breathe?”

“Well enough,” he sighed. 

The severity of the situation was sinking in. Hysteria was starting to bubble in your chest but you locked your jaw, determined to keep it together. “What do I… What should I do, Ben? How do I fix this?”

He turned to look at you, his expression going soft. “You can’t fix it.”

That threatened to push you over the edge. Your constitution slipped, your chin started to tremble, tears mounting in your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He cupped your face with a large hand, pads of his fingers pressing into your hair, urging you to focus. “We’re going to be alright. This is what’s going to happen. Tomorrow is our last rental day and the owners visit the property between guests. So they’ll come, see the path is blocked and know that we’re stuck here. They’ll get help. We just have to wait until tomorrow. We have everything we need here. We just have to be still and wait.”

You nodded, swallowing hard against the tears, ashamed that you couldn’t be stronger but breathlessly grateful that he would comfort you even when he was grievously injured. You kissed the palm of his hand and steadied yourself against its warmth. So very little was in your control, but you were determined to right the things that were. Moving carefully and trying to ignore the protesting pangs from your leg, you dried him off and piled him with blankets. The stove was burning high and the bothy still had the cozy air you had enjoyed the past few days. You stripped off your own soaking tops down to your bra and wrapped yourself in a blanket. Then you wet a rag and started to clean the cuts on his arm, dressing them with the ointment and bandages from the first aid kit.

Benedict watched you silently, something twinkling and bemused in his eyes. You worried that if you stared at him too long you were going to cry, so you focused on your task. Once you were finished he held out his hand.

“Give me the rag.” You handed it to him. “Come here.”

You shifted up to face him, concerned. “What do you need?”

Wordlessly, he pulled your chin closer with one hand and began to lightly dab at your forehead with the other. You closed your eyes, feeling the tears threaten again. If there was one thing Benedict Bridgerton would never cease to be come hell or high water, it was a caretaker of others. You weren’t quite sure what you had done to deserve such a man, but you knew it was imperative that you never let him go. As he wiped the blood away, your cut started to sting. You hadn’t found a mirror to examine it and you frankly didn’t want to. He was your only concern right now.

“Does it hurt?” He asked softly. You were too overcome to do anything other than nod. Then he pulled your chin down even further, leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to your wound. 

That’s what broke you. You finally let the tears spill down your cheeks, burrowing your face into the side of his neck. “I’m so sorry, Ben,” you whispered.

“What are you sorry for?” He asked, bewildered.

“I should never have tried to climb those damned rocks.”

He huffed. “You were trying to help us. I’m the one who shouldn’t have jumped up after you.”

You pulled back, sniffling. “You were trying to help me.”

“And look where all of that help landed us,” he smirked, causing you both to chuckle. But his laugh almost immediately turned into agonized gasps. 

“Alright, alright,” You put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “No laughing.”

“You need to splint your leg,” he rasped.

“How precisely should I do that?”

His eyes darted around the room. “The kindling for the stove. Take two long pieces and tie them off with towels.”

You began to drag yourself across the floor toward the woodpile, a realization forming that perhaps two people with zero medical training between them should not be as drawn to outdoor isolation as you were. You gathered two sturdy sticks and a handful of dish towels and then scraped your way back to his side.

“Make sure your leg is straight and tie it tight,” Benedict instructed. You nodded but were filled with apprehension. Ever since you had collapsed on the floor, your useless leg had been twisted at an appalling angle. You knew setting it was going to hurt. Taking a deep breath, you reached forward and tugged it straight. A white hot jab of pain jolted through your whole body, causing you to scream. Distantly, you could hear Benedict speaking to you, his hand rubbing circles across your back. His touch was what you focused on, the only thing helping you to fight the nausea as you lined up the wood and tied it tightly on either side of your broken limb, whimpering with each knot pulled. You fell back against the side of the sofa, panting as you found equilibrium and the searing pain faded back to an insistent throb. Benedict wrapped an arm across your chest, the closest thing to an embrace he could offer. You lay in silence together, exhausted, settling in for what was sure to be the longest night of your life.

Warmed by the fire and lulled by the rain driving against the windows, the atmosphere inside the bothy would have been dreadfully romantic if you weren’t both immobilized by broken bones and stranded, awaiting rescue. It would have been all too easy to fall asleep, but you were determined to stay awake until help arrived. You scooched yourself around the floor with all the grace of a geriatric slug, feeding the stove and brewing tea which you helped Benedict to drink as he lay flat. Out of habit you kept checking your phone, wondering if by some miracle a cell signal would appear.

“Sorry there’s no service here,” Benedict frowned. “Part of the whole appeal. Going off the grid.”

“I know,” you ran a reassuring hand through his hair. “It’s not your fault, I just can’t help checking. We need something to occupy ourselves.” Your eyes fell to the stacks of books beneath the coffee table, a motley assortment from the owners and you suspected, prior guests. You began to assess the authors, gauging his reactions.

“Dostoevsky?”

He grinned. “Well, I would enjoy that but I know it would put you to sleep.”

He was right. You set it back. “Ooo! Byron!” You lilted, waving the book at him tauntingly.

He groaned. “God, please. I’m in enough pain already.”

You laughed and tossed it aside. Next was a sleek, mysterious cover with a blurb promising ‘luxurious, unbridled passion’. You smirked. That seemed exciting enough to keep you both awake. 

“We’re reading filth,” you announced, settling in next to him again. You had expected something humorous, the kind of tawdry romance novel that every aunt seemed to be fond of. But while the story started out playful enough, the simmering sexual energy woven by the author’s talented prose was so evocative, you both started to squirm. The fearless, beautiful depictions of the lovers’ encounters were so salacious that you were too stunned to keep reading them aloud, your mouth falling open as you blushed instead. Dimestore trash this was not.

Benedict shifted behind you but you couldn’t look at him. “Maybe save that one for later,” he croaked. “Jesus, who wrote that?”

“Faye someone.” You mumbled, setting it aside with a mental note to steal it or buy your own copy.

“Please make me think of something else now,” Benedict pleaded, his voice tight.

“P.G. Wodehouse it is.” You smiled, grateful to have found something light and familiar.

“Brilliant.”

By the time you finished the short volume it was dark outside but the rain hadn’t let up. You could have switched on the lights but that seemed too harsh for the states you were in. The fire was a more relaxing illumination.

Your stomach rumbled, waking up after an extended period of anxiety. “We should eat something.” You had food enough to cook meals for one more day, but could scrounge for now. You trailed a hand lazily over Benedict’s cheek. “What do you want?”  He raised a brow. “Scotch. Neat.”

“You’re not drinking in your condition.” You said firmly, eliciting an exaggerated pout from him. “And neither am I. Do you have an appetite for anything solid?”

“Not really.”

“Just bread?”

You knew that would bring a light to his eyes. “With butter?”

You grinned. “Of course.” It was never a question with him. That was the one thing he would always happily eat. Setting off on another crawling journey across the floor to the kitchenette, you cobbled together your dinner. Bread, butter, a bit of cheese, a jar of olives. It would do. It was damn near continental. 

After your haphazard meal you found Benedict’s eyes drifting closed, everything about him looking utterly spent.

You held his hand in your own and kissed his bloodied knuckles. “Ben, you’re drifting off. Should you…can you sleep with a concussion?”

His eyes fluttered open, bleary. “Yes,” he mumbled. “Just wake me up every couple of hours to make sure I know my own name. Ask me some questions.”

“Alright.” You nodded, trying to ignore the spike of fear inside. What if he was hiding how he truly felt for your sake? What if he did have a concussion and got worse while he slept? What if you couldn’t wake him up again? Part of you wanted to plead with him to stay awake through the night, but it was overruled by the part that told you to trust him. Choosing hope, you squeezed his hand and laid it across his chest.

“What about you?” He was fading fast, eyes closed.

“I’m not tired,” you lied. “Get some rest.”

Then your vigil began. You set your phone alarm to go off every three hours and brewed another pot of tea. You would stay awake. If anything was compelling enough to combat your wearied body’s exhaustion, it was the need to make sure Benedict kept breathing and that he could come back to you when you woke him. You stayed at his side, studying the angles of his handsome face in the glow of the fire, grateful that he seemed to be peaceful. And you waited.

__

“Ben?”

“Mmm?”

“Where are you?”

“In Scotland.”

“Why are we here?”

“We’re on holiday.”

“Who is your eldest brother?”

“Anthony.”

“Alright, go back to sleep.”

—

“Ben?”

“Mmm?”

“Where are you?”

“In the mountains.”

“Why are we here?”

“I wanted to paint.”

“Where did you take me on our second date?”

“I said, ‘What do you say we go to Marseille?’”

“Yes, it was awful of you. I finally committed to you and then you said cheesy mad shit like that.”

“But you came with me.”

“I did.”

“And you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. Go back to sleep.”

—

The third time you woke him, the light was turning grey outside and the rain had weakened to fits of spray. It was the day of your rescue. You just had to wait a few more hours. You decided you should probably wake Benedict for good.

“Ben?” You ran your hands through his hair, coaxing him back.

“Mmm?” 

He had awoken so easily each time, it was reassuring.

“Where are you?”

“I’m with you,” he slurred.

Your heart faltered, touched by his response but also concerned at its vagueness. 

“And who am I?”

Even though his eyes remained closed, his lips tilted into a small smile. “You’re the love of my life.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Exhaustion, fear, relief and love heaping upon one another.

Your voice trembled. “Where are we both right now?”

“We’re stuck in the bloody bothy.” He spat.

You chuckled, running your thumb over his forehead. He seemed to be lucid. “Why are we here?”

“I wanted to ask you,” he sighed, sounding almost as if slipping back into sleep.

You were confounded. “Ask me what?”

At last his eyes blinked open, settling on you with the steady, blue-grey stare that you could drown in. 

“Get my coat.” 

Still confused, you did as he asked, pulling his coat from the side of the sofa and handing it to him. It was only when he began rummaging through the pockets that realization struck and you froze. Time seemed to slow as he finally pulled out a small box and tossed the coat aside. He pried the lid open and brought it to rest on his bruised chest so that you were staring face first at a silver ring twined with a sapphire and pearls.

“Ask you to be my wife.” He declared, that timeless cheeky grin lighting his face. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move. You weren’t sure if you were delirious with exhaustion or dreaming. He continued. “The hike was to an overlook. The landscape I painted that you love so much? I wanted to ask you there. I’m sorry we didn’t make it.”

Everything was falling into place. His insistence on this holiday. The uncharacteristic request for a hike. He had meant it to be one of the most memorable days of your life. It had certainly turned out that way, but not in the expected fashion.

Entirely ignoring the beautiful ring, you pulled him into a kiss.

“Oh, Ben.” You weren’t sure if you were laughing or crying or about to faint. You just needed to have him close.

He nuzzled his nose against yours, trying to convey as much affection as he could while not being able to move.

“This isn’t how I wanted it to be, but I need to ask you before anything else goes wrong.”

You stared back at him in alarm. “Nothing else is going to go wrong. Don’t you dare say that.”

He only smiled, devastating with his boyish grin and the cheerful crinkles around his bright eyes. 

“So? Will you?”

“Yes! Yes, of course I will.” Your words were muffled into his lips as you kissed him again, hands wound tight into his hair, never wanting to let go. You didn’t feel tired anymore. You didn’t feel your pain. All you felt was him. Even now he smelled so wonderful, tasted so wonderful. He was light and certainty. He felt like home. 

When you managed to pry yourself off of him, his eyes were glittering. He plucked the ring from its box and slid it onto your shaking hand.

“In sickness and in health.” He beamed. “I think we’ve already covered that bit.”

“Yes, we have.” You fell upon him again, breathless, everything fading behind the reality that he would be yours forever. It was a twist of fortune you’d never feel worthy of.

A few hours later you were snogging rather ferociously when someone began pounding on the door. It was emergency services. Just as Benedict had foretold, the bothy owners had seen the rockslide and sent help. He was infuriatingly correct in that way most of the time. A team of people dressed in yellow bandaged you both further and expressed surprise as how well you had handled yourselves under the circumstances. The rubble would take too long to be cleared but with specialty equipment they carried you expertly over to safety and into awaiting ambulances.

Your tallied damage was three leg fractures, three forehead stitches, three broken ribs and no concussion. ‘Symmetrically maimed’ as Benedict proudly announced to your family members who sped up to Scotland to collect you. In the subsequent weeks everyone was so busy fluttering around your injuries that no one noticed your ring finger. You and Benedict made a game of it, placing bets on who would be the first. You won the bet when three weeks in, Violet suddenly clamped eyes on your left hand and started yelping. Then added to the endless questions about your harrowing tale of survival, you were peppered with questions about wedding plans. Muscling through each day as a couple of lovesick invalids, you hadn’t found time to make any, but you had agreed on one thing. No matter where you went on honeymoon, hiking would not be on the itinerary.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @faye-tale

[sc0tters]

Sometimes Ain’t Enough | Joel Hofer

summary: when Joel’s desires to protect your relationship almost causes it to end.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing.

word count: 1.29k

authors note: just like that the goalie dedication is over! To those who wanted it and loved it thank you, and to those who are looking forward to regular content again you’ll see it tomorrow!

Being Don Granato’s kid was meant to come with its privileges.

Sure you were brought to events that you could have only ever dreamed about as a kid and you wouldn’t have met Joel without your dad. But somehow not being able to tell anyone about your boyfriend made you want to scream from the rooftops.

At the beginning you thought you wouldn’t mind, in a way hiding him in your bedroom when your dad came to visit in the mornings. The thrill of only being allowed to mark him in places that couldn’t be seen instilled you with a level of power that you never thought was possible.

But after six months of this and not being able to even offer a peep of who you were seeing to any of your friends, it was causing this fairytale to turn into a nightmare. You did love your boyfriend but now you were feeling like his side piece rather than his partner.

Even the boys teased Joel as they couldn’t understand how the man was still single. Yet as he failed to mention that there was a girl he went home to, you struggled to bite your tongue and not let it get to you.

But tonight as you both hung out with the team your patience was spread thin watching him talk to one of the girls that had been in the bar “you know if you like him that much you should just tell him.” Owen announced leaning against the table as he snapped his fingers in front of your face to break the glare you were sending Joel.

It should have made you laugh but instead it frustrated you “I don’t think he’d care for that statement.” You sighed stirring your straw in your drink “he’s not one for caring about what I think.” You added not wanting to think about the many arguments that came from you thinking Joel didn’t respect you.

You sighed wanting to pull the hair out of your hair as Joel’s fingertips clenched around the kitchen counter “I can’t pretend anymore Joel.” You mumbled looking at the ground causing him to walk around to where you sat “baby.” His hands were soft as he cupped your cheeks.

Joel had always been taller than you but as you were on the bar stool he was closer to you than normal “I love you, you know that right?” He asked as you let your thumb brush over his waist when you nodded “then just trust me and accept that this isn’t the right time to tell people.” Joel had just gotten back into your fathers good books and he didn’t think that announcing that you were the girl in his bed was going to do him any good at the moment.

Just like normal you accepted defeat, maybe even a little too quick for anyone’s liking “I guess you’re right.” Your voice was soft as he kissed your head “thanks for being so understanding.” Each time Joel described you as understanding and before you did agree with him.

But now you felt stupid and hopeless as you stared at your boyfriend who had barely spoken to you that night “look if you’re really that upset we can go.” Owen quickly became your friend when you two were introduced to each other. He knew everything about you besides for just what Joel was to you “maybe it’s for the best.” you mumbled nodding as Owen wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

It didn’t take Joel long to notice how you hid under your friends arms “I’ll be right back.” Joel didn’t even wait for the people he was having a conversation with to respond as he walked off trying to be hot on your tails.

The air in Buffalo was humid as it made the change from summer to fall as some of the trees saw their leaves beginning to turn crispy “y/n you’re leaving?” Joel called out letting the bar door shut behind him “didn’t think you’d care.” The venom in your voice told Owen that he was missing something in this conversation.

Owen frowned standing to the side “it’s not my fault you didn’t want to talk to those guys.” Joel shot back causing the umich alumni to awkwardly clear his throat “I’ll wait inside for you.” He pointed to the door as you nodded “you see what you did!” You complained pointing to the shutting door.

Joel laughed as he crossed his arms “you think I’m gonna give a fuck scaring your boy toy off?” With each word he took a step closer to you as you took one back until your back was pressed up against a car and suddenly the distance between you both was gone.

His hands gripped at your waist “Owen has a name and he’s not my boy toy!” You hated how Joel seemed to be enjoying this as he smirked “so what is he then?” Whatever Joel was hinting to irritated you as it caused you to reach up and hit him.

Your hand as stopped as his goalie reflexives came into favour as it worked for him “he’s my friend who kept me company because you were a little busy.” You pressed your finger into his chest.

Honestly you were close to blaming the alcohol for how angry you were but you knew that he root cause was the man in front of you “would have dropped it for you.” Those words were true as Joel had missed you during the night.

But the idea of walking over to you as you wore a pretty red dress only made him want to rip it off of your body, only resulting in the outcome of you two getting caught so instead he stayed away “do you even actually want to be my boyfriend?” The words let your mouth quicker than you could have thought about the gravity that held.

It made Joel stare at you in silence almost a little surprise that you had it in you to ask him that “because beyond the walls of my apartment-” Joel cut you off pressing his lips against yours. He tugged his fingers through your hair as he let his frustrations out on your lips.

His tongue traced over your lower lip making you whine “you’re. so. fucking. addictive.” With each word Joel pecked your lips making you melt in his touch further “you don’t act like that though.” You frowned as the goalie let his hands rest on your shoulders.

Frustration filled his mind as Joel clicked his tongue “you think that this is easy for me?” He sighed letting his fingers pinch at your jaw “almost told your dad you were the reason I was late to practice last week.” Joel’s confession made your cheeks turn red as you remembered convincing him to join you in the shower before he had practice.

As a breeze brushed past you both you whined “let’s go home baby.” He pleaded squeezing your hand as the flannel he was wearing quickly dropped from his body wrapping over your shoulders instead “and tomorrow when you get coffee with your dad tell him about us.” Those words made your eyes light up as you gasped.

He smiled seeing the improvement in your mood “you really mean that?” Your grin had your lower lip getting caught between your teeth “yeah baby.” Joel nodded letting his arm wrap around your shoulders “bout time the world sees who you are to me.” He explained kissing your head as you two walked back down the street to the car.

[chloeafrazier]

All Children Are A Gift From God.

Hey everyone are you all doing today ? today i will be talking about Treating our Teens and Children nicer and with more Consideration with there feelings

 and with there hearts and the way they feel about God and just how they feel about many other things as well because almost everything that i have seen in

 books and TV shows and Movies and in real life as well grown ups always look at children as a problem or something that they dread it is like they look at

 Children as something that is just stressful and that there feelings do not count and i cannot stand that it makes me very sad for kids when they are treated

 like that and i like the movie moms night out and it is showing that moms struggle to raise there kids and it is not easy and it is not always fun as a mom

 or as a dad that is true but i don t like how people look and talk about kids don t matter or that they don t count because that is not right like at all one of the

 only Movies that i have seen that is about not making children feel bad or Look bad is The sound of Music because if you have ever seen it you will see

 and know that if anything it is a Love story between Maria and the Children what i mean by that is is that Long before her and the Captain fell in love and

 had feelings for each other she already Loved and cared for those kids she loved being with them singing with them teaching them to have fun and

 teaching them to be kids and teaching them how to sing and run and play and climb trees and all and she sang to them a lot and sang with them and bonded

 with them Long before she had feelings for the Captain and i like how it showed her Love and care for the Kids the whole movie she showed them a

 Mothers Love even when at first she was not even there mother i like that this showed a relationship between her and kids it is one of the best Movies of all

 times but is also one of the best Movies that show cased a relationship between a grown woman a Grown up and Children and think that it is one of

 the best movies ever the sound of music is one of the reasons why i had such a Great Child hood growing up so everyone please take into an account that

 Children are a Blessing and should be cared for and shown Love and made to feel like they are Loved and wanted and cared for for sure so lets try to be a

 Little nicer to Children and make them feel heard and Loved and cared for and lets make them know that they are such a Gift to us for sure because all

 Children are a Gift from God and they all deserve to be told and shown Love and told that they Matter so lets all think about the way we talk to any child and

 lets show them Love and Understanding as much as we can well Thanks for reading i pray you all have a great day and know that you are Loved and cared for by God Thanks for reading have a Great day. 

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Dreaming of you

Pairing: Bruce Banner x gn!reader

Synopsis: Reader accompanies her friend to a press event at Avengers tower, where they meet Bruce. Who they share a very nice evening with.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consume

Word count: 2.9 k

„I’m telling you for the last time. I don´t do Parties. I don´t do People. I do books. Books are good, books can´t hurt you…” 

“First of all, you do People or else we wouldn´t be talking right now and secondly books are very able to hurt people. You alone have suffered many paper cuts and bruises from them.” 

“Only because you threw them at me.”, you pointed an accusing finger at your friend. 

Her nervous laughter filled the room, as her arms came up in a defensive manner. 

“Alright, alright. Still your coming with me tomorrow.” 

“You know I am. Just let me complain about it at least.” 

“Knock yourself out then. Now help me with the dress.” 

Pulling up the zipper in the back your friend turned in every direction to see how the cloth fitted her, ultimately turning her head to look at you questioningly. You had been in the store for what felt like hours now in search for some new clothes to wear for a press event at the newly named Avengers tower. Showing her a quick thumbs up you slumped back down in the provided seats by the changing rooms hoping to be done soon. It was bad enough she made you go the event as it was already, but this was really wearing you out. 

“I think we can go now.”, said your friend as she stepped outside the dressing room. 

Making a bee line to the register and then finally stepping into the cooling afternoon air. Almost reflexively you took a deep breath and stretched your arms out. 

“You wanna grab a coffee before we head home?” 

“Sure.”, you just hoped the day would end already. The feeling of having to attend this social gathering made your stomach turn. Hopefully this whole thing was just gonna go by well. 

With this thought in mind, you fell into a very restless sleep that night. 

What woke you up way into the next morning was the shrill sounds of the doorbell. 

Shuffling to the door in a hurry to on a dressing gown at least and a pounding heart from just being ripped out of a weird dream you opened to two cups of coffee. Attached to the paper cups you’re your way to awake friend, who shot you a wide smile. 

“Good morning!” 

“And what a morning it is.” 

Letting her in, you went back into the bedroom to make yourself look presentable, before joining her in the kitchen. 

You spent the afternoon talking and then got ready to leave in the early evening. 

Arriving at the tower, the so-called press event equaled more of a house party. There was music, people stood around talking in small groups and multiple people were tending the bar. Here and there you could see an Avenger sit or stand talking and associating themselves, though undoubtedly the life of the party was Tony Stark. You didn’t particularly like the man behind the suit of armor, but to say you dislike him was too much too. You just didn´t understand how someone could love being in the center of everyone’s attention to this extent. 

Your friend saw the headshake you gave at the sight of it all and immediately pulled you towards the bar to sit down no two free stools for the first of many drinks of the night. 

As time passed by, she left to do the job for which she was invited, effectively leaving you alone at the bar, basically hugging the fancy glass for comfort. Letting your gaze wander eventually, you made out another person sitting in a relatively quiet corner. Taking a better look at the figure you recognized Dr. Bruce Banner. He looked even more unwell than you felt in that room, but you had to admit the simple black suit he was wearing, made him look very good. As soon as the thought formed in your brain you could feel a hand on your shoulder, getting your attention away from the scientist. 

“You should go talk to him, you know.” 

“What? I don´t know what you mean.” 

“I saw you looking at the Doctor. Go talk to him. It would be sad if the only person you talked to all night would be the person you came with.” 

“I told you before I don´t do people. Also, what if he thinks I am stupid or something?” 

“To be fair compared to him we probably all are.”, your friend joked. “You should still go over and talk to him.” 

She gave you a rather strong nudge in the direction where Banner was sitting. Holding up your hands to signal you were doing what she wanted grabbing another drink on the way there. With every step your hands got sweatier and breath shakier. Why were you even this nervous anyway. He was just a normal person like anyone else…. Except for the fact that he was very smart and working with the Avengers. You scolded yourself shortly before sitting down in the sofa corner. 

Giving him a small smile and a courteous nod as a greeting you received one back, but still any and every word you wanted to say got stuck in your throat. 

“You seem to enjoy these… events as much as I do. Wich is about not all.”, mentally cursing yourself for starting off in such a stupid manner still offering a hopefully pleasant smile to the Avenger. 

“Oh, yeah. I guess I´m just not a typical people person.” 

“Hm, I feel that.”, you gave an affirmative hum. 

“I-I´m sorry have we met before.”, he now turned his body towards you completely. 

“Oh no. No, I´m just here because a good friend of mine wanted me to come.”, you pointed over at where you had seen her last. ”Normally I do prefer a good book over a crowd this big.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I kind of got the choice of attending taken away too. Kind of comes with the field of work.” 

“Oh, heh yeah definitely. You know I always wanted to learn something about what it is that your doing. The science stuff that is.”, that really seemed to get him out of his shell a bit as a twinkle appeared in his eyes. 

“Do you really want to know?” 

“Yes, I always thought it to be very interesting.” 

“What do you do for a living then?”, he seemed genuinely curious. 

“I ´only´ work as a dance teacher.” 

“Really? I never learnt that…”, as he trailed off the sentence a sudden burst of confidence overcame you. 

“Maybe we could go somewhere a little quieter and teach each other. No innuendo intended, of course.”, that was definitely the alcohol talking now. 

Still, while he took his time to answer you downed the rest of the glass of champagne. The warm feeling it set free throughout all your body was something unused to, but definitely not unwelcome. 

“Yeah sure.”, that was all you needed to put down the empty glass on the table and go for what looked like an exit of the area. 

Bruce in tow you grabbed another two glasses of the fancy beverage off a tray that came right out of the area they seemed to be poured in to find an empty room right on the first try. 

It was big and empty and with the light on seemed like an office. 

Immediately you made a bee line for the Arm chairs in the corner. Sitting down you relocated your seats so you were facing each other comfortably and as you did so the dark-haired man started talking. 

At first it was easy to follow along, but as the first glass got emptier you couldn´t help but concentrate on his face and the way his voice sounded so smooth and dark it felt like you were in a different dimension. A dimension where it was just the two of you. No party that you just escaped from no other pressures nothing just you and the sound of his entrancing voice. So, as you studied his features, a strange sensation overcame you. It was as if you had seen this face before. The long eyelashes that framed those deep, chocolaty brown eyes, that twinkled with actual interest and kind of passion for what he was talking about as he told you about the PhDs and what he did. Everything about his face down to the smallest wrinkle. 

It all felt like you had seen him before, yet you knew that just wasn´t possible. For sure that was just the alcohol trying to tell you something. Whatever it was supposed to be. 

“I talked so much I hope I didn´t bore you.”, his hand came up to sheepishly scratch his neck and then down to straighten the suit. 

That statement brought you back into reality with him. 

“What? No, believe me it’s very hard to do that. And to be honest you are one of the most interesting people I have met.”, looking down you saw that in the meantime not only the first but also half of the second glass was emptied already. 

Setting the drink aside you stood up and extended your arm in a silent offer for him to take it. 

“I do however think it is only fair that you learn something now.”  

You had a slight sway in your stance already and the music from the main event was still very much audible, but that did not hold you back from putting on some slower music to play over the phones crappy speaker and get back to the man that looked almost like a lost puppy standing there in the middle of the room, playing with the sleeves of his dress shirt. The suits jacket hanging neatly over his previous seat. Making sure to not grab his hands too tightly you placed one on your back and took the other into yours, to assume your own position. You could see how unsure he was in the way his head tilted downwards as soon as you took the first step to lead him into one of the easiest dances you knew. Next thing that happened was his hand, that held yours, held on just a little tighter. 

 It was really cute, but no matter how often you tried to turn his head back up in an attempted to initialize some eye contact it didn´t last long until your fingers picked up his chin once more. Bruce, as he had insisted you´d call him, looked up at you from under the before noticed long lashes and for the first time a deep eye contact formed. In that moment it all came back to you. That feeling from earlier wasn´t the booze, it also wasn´t coming from just anywhere. You had seen this exact scene in your dream just a couple of hours back. About him talking, getting lost in his voice, dancing and about what was about to happen next. 

Sliding your hand away from under his chin it settled on the side of his face almost at his neck. Movements slowed down, music blending even more into the background than already before. That almost electrical crackling that happened before going in for a kiss surrounded you and only God knew just how much you wanted to kiss him in that moment. Yet at the same time it felt so nice to just stay in that moment, revel in that feeling, but your movements never stopped and so the two of you kept dancing. This time with less looking at feet and more looking into each other’s eyes. You could tell by the flickering light behind his gaze that he felt a similar way about this, yet neither of you dared to say a word. The atmosphere in the room became so peaceful it stood in complete contrast to where you had found yourself in only so shortly ago, but soon you found yourself sat back down talking about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Between talking and dancing hours had past and it wouldn´t have bothered you until during one particular turn you got faced with the clock on the wall. 

One quick glance at the time brought you back to reality completely. Stopping in your tracks, earned you a couple of questioning looks. 

“I have to find my friend before she leaves without me.”, you tried to explain without showing your obvious wish to continue spending time with him. “I really enjoyed spending time with you though. You actually are a great dancer when you don´t look at your feet all the time.” 

The two of you shared a chuckle before grabbing your stuff and going back to the main events area. Looking and even asking around for a while lead to no result and so you decided to go outside to call for a cab. 

“Do you want to come with?”, you asked hopeful. 

“Oh, um don´t get this the wrong way. I enjoyed this evening too, but I think this wouldn´t be a good idea.”, Bruce started to fumble with his sleeves again. 

“Oh, shit you think I meant… Oh no… How about I give you my number then and you can text me whenever you have a bit of free time so we can hang out again?” 

It felt like an eternity passed until he answered, but when he did a wave of relieve washed over you. 

“Yes, I´d like that very much.” 

Bruce pulled out an older looking phone before handing it over so you could type in the numbers. 

You got ready to hand it back just in time for the cab to arrive. Opening the door, you turned around at the sound of his voice once more. 

“Get home save.”, the words were accompanied by a shy wave. 

“You too, Bruce. Good night.”, a smile finally fought its way free as you made your way home. 

Luckily you didn´t live too far and so it wasn´t long until you were able to lean against a close door to slip of the uncomfortable shoes, that your friend made you wear. Pulling the dress over your head in the hallway you decided you were too tired to wash up and instead fell into bed instead. Taking one last look at your phone before leaving it to charge you saw a message from an unknown number. 

´Thank you for a nice evening. Good night. - Bruce´ 

A squeal escaped your lips as you texted him back a quick good night and made mental note to scold your friend for leaving you alone, but that was all you could get done before your eyes fell shut by themselves, lulling you into a well-deserved and very nice sleep. 

However, it did not take long until you woke up again, the sun tickling your nose and a splitting headache trying to kill you. Death would be too easy though, so you decided to make a can of coffee and then start your day by washing of last night’s make up. 

All those plans were put on hold as the front door opened and then fell close with a loud thud. 

“Rise and shine!”, never in your live have you hated a humans existence more than right now. 

“I´m in the kitchen, but please be a little quieter.” 

Your friends face appeared from the hallway with a happy expression. 

“How are you in such a good mood?”, you asked before chugging and refilling the rest of your cup. 

“I didn´t drink too much and I left early.”, was her answer as she sat down across the table. 

“On the subject of that… You completely left me alone there.” 

“I mean I saw you leave with the doctor and thought I wouldn´t see you again until today anyway so… How was the evening with him anyway? Give me all the dirty little details.” 

“First of all, there is no dirty little details to tell. We just went into the next room to talk in peace since there were way too many people around and then we talked and I taught him how to dance… And then we kind of almost kissed, I guess. It´s weird you know? In that moment I felt like I´ve known him forever.” 

“You talked?”, disbelieve was practically written all over her face. 

“You seem to forget I am not you. No judgement though.” 

“Yeah yeah, but you at least got his number, right?” 

“I did, before having to get a cab home… I could really listen to him talk for hours his voice is so nice and we talked about literally everything and nothing. He´s so nice and easy to be around. Like I don´t have to pretend I´m someone else just so he considers talking to me.” 

“In conclusion I will be hearing more of him in the future. I am genuinely happy for you though. He seems like a really nice guy.” 

“Bruce really is the nicest person I´ve met. I hope you two will get along when you meet.” 

“So, you are already planning on introducing us, huh?”, she chuckled. 

“I- I mean eventually… Hopefully… God I hope I don´t blow it with him.” Now the doubts from last night were coming back all at once. 

Taking another long sip from the now cooled down coffee your friend laid her hand on your shoulder. 

“You think too much. If you got along so well last night it will be fine.” 

“That’s not really helping, but thank you.” The two of you spent the rest of the day talking about the event and who she talked to, before going to bed again. 

Of course, you made sure to text Bruce once more before falling asleep again. 

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 10

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,179

Warnings: nothing new

A/N: Hey it’s me, daddy! ...well apparently. I really gotta take a chill pill... these chapters are getting way too long. But anyway, I hope you enjoy it, my babies are soft and sensitive :’) Thank you for reading, I truly appreciate it!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

You looked around the bar while you sipped your drink, a 12 dollar grapefruit juice and club soda cocktail. There weren’t many people at one in the afternoon, mostly suits and wealthy tourists, though you half expected to find Natasha hiding in the back with a hat, a large pair of sunglasses and an unfolded newspaper.

From the rug to the chairs and armchairs, everything was either black or white. You ran your index finger over the intricate calligraphy on the back of your chair. It was a number: 5.

Turning back around, you glanced at the clock and mentally cursed yourself for always being so early. You hated being late, and arriving less than ten minutes early counted as late in your book. You were nervous to see Wanda after all this time.

You hadn’t been expecting her to stay at a hotel on the Upper East Side. You wondered how she could afford it, but decided it was none of your business.

“I had a feeling you’d be here already.” That familiar voice brought back fond childhood memories and other not so pleasant memories. “You’re always early.”

You didn’t move a muscle as Wanda took a seat next to you, number 6. She signalled the bartender and ordered a latte. Meanwhile you played with your straw, trying to subtly steal a glance at her.

“What did you do to your hair?” you asked with a grimace, turning your body toward her.

Without looking at you, she raised her brows in mild exasperation. “I dyed it.”

“It’s orange.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I get it. You’re angry with me.”

“Oh,” you drawled out. “I’m well past angry. I was angry four years ago, now I just don’t care anymore.”

“You don’t care about me anymore?”

“No, and it’s not like you cared about me, or Scott, or Okoye.” You paused. “Or mom.”

Wanda had a shocked look on her face as she finally met your eyes. “That’s low. You have no idea-”

“No, you have no idea what it was like to live in that house after you all left. You have absolutely no idea,” you said, enunciating each word between your teeth, “because you weren’t there, because you left us –you left me. Six years, Wanda.”

She looked away and you saw her bottom lip quiver. She clenched her jaw and took a small sip of her latte. You instantly felt bad for snapping at her. You didn’t like confrontation. Hated arguing. You internalized. It was difficult for you to acknowledge that you had a right to express your feelings.

“I, uh,” Wanda said, then cleared her throat. “I knew you weren’t going to welcome me with open arms, and I know what I did was wrong, but I’d like us to be a family again. If it’s not too late.”

“It’s not too late,” you said with a small sigh. “But I’m not going to instantly forgive you just because you’re back.”

“I know.”

“What made you come back?”

She fiddled with her fingers in her lap and you noticed the ring on her fourth finger. It was a beautiful vintage-inspired ring made of black rhodium with an ornate cadenza halo in the centre.

A terrible thought occurred to you, making your stomach twist painfully. You didn’t know her at all. Not anymore. You had missed so much of your sister’s life. Or more accurately; she had cut you out of her life, and it was painful.

“I went to London,” Wanda said, unaware of your inner turmoil. “I saw Uncle Michael. He asked me if I was here to see mom, and I said, ‘No, mom’s in New York.’ And then he told me-” she tilted her head to look at you “-he told me mom was sick, that you and Okoye put her in a nursing home not far from his apartment. I didn’t believe him, so he took me to mom and she-” She paused, staring straight ahead as if she was caught in the memory

“She looked at you like she didn’t know you,” you said, knowing exactly where the story was going because it had happened to you too.

“Yeah,” Wanda breathed out, tears in her eyes. “I never felt so alone. They told her I was her daughter, but she didn’t recognize me. She kept asking Uncle Michael who I was, then she got mad because she was adamant she never had children.”

“I know,” you said sympathetically.

“I wanted to see you and apologize for not being the sister you deserve. For not being here when you needed me most.”

“Where were you all this time?” you asked, practically begged for an answer.

Her shoulders tensed and she straightened up in her seat. “Just travelling.”

“I know, I got your postcards.” You nodded toward the engagement ring on her finger. “I guess I should say congratulations.”

“Mhh,” she said running the pad of her thumb over the diamond. “It’s funny I never thought I’d fall in love and get married. I don’t need a man in my life to make me feel whole. Mom raised us alone, we’re independent and strong.” A small smile graced her lips. “But I found someone sweet and charming, someone who makes me feel safe and calm.”

“Are you writing your vows?”

“Har har,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. You’d missed her, missed your banter. “You haven’t changed.”

“If you say so,” you said in a sombre voice. You looked at the clock above the bar. “Listen, I have to go but I’m happy you found someone. I’d like to meet him one day. I bet he doesn’t know about your Baby Spice phase.”

You jumped off the bar stool and picked up your jacket. Wanda turned in her seat, catching your wrist as you looped your purse over your shoulder.

“Can you stay a little longer?” she asked, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Just a minute.”

“Okay.”

She let go of your wrist. “Scott’s been released last month. I talked to him on the phone and asked him to fly to New York. He should be here tomorrow. I also talked to Okoye, I asked her to come here. We have things to discuss. I know things will never be the same, not after Pietro, not after mom, but we can try. We’re still a family.”

“Great,” you replied. Your word came out with more force than you had intended, but you didn’t apologize. They were all coming back for Wanda but when your mother needed help, you were all alone.

“Yeah,” Wanda whispered, her eyes cast down. “I was thinking we could all meet up for dinner. Okoye’s bringing her boyfriend so if you... if you have a partner-”

“I’m single.”

“Oh, uh, you can bring Natasha if you want.”

“No, thanks.” You reached into your purse and pulled out one of your business cards. “Text me, okay? I really gotta go.”

She smiled as she read your card. “You’re an artist? Splotchy, I’m so proud of you!”

That damn nickname... “I still haven't found a gallery. Not many people want to represent an unknown artist but I’m not giving up.”

“You never give up,” Wanda said with a gentle smile. “That’s why I love you.”

You took a cab to Natasha’s apartment. It had been three weeks since Sam moved to D.C., and Nat was having a hard time finding a job in her field.

She didn’t want to find another sugar daddy. It seemed ridiculous since she was still carrying a massive torch for Sam. She had saved enough money to live on until she could find a job and a new place to live.

“I’m officially done,” she grumbled in lieu of a greeting. “Job hunting sucks. New York sucks. Life sucks.”

“Pretty bold statement.”

You entered the apartment and plopped down next to her on the sofa. With a groan, she wrestled out of her blouse and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a simple white spaghetti-strap shirt and a pair of black trousers.

“I hate wearing a suit.”

“You look good in them.”

“I know,” she cried out. “I hate wearing suits when it’s all for nothing. I’m not the boss, I’m no one. Just another doofus with a college degree standing here like-” she cupped her hands together, as if she was holding a bowl, and looked at you with a pout. “Please, sir, I want some more.”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t get the job,” you said, biting back a laugh. “I would hire you for that spot on Oliver Twist impression.”

She laughed. “I think I lost my fire. People used to be scared of me. Remember? I miss that.”

“You’re a psycho,” you snorted, using her shoulder as a pillow. “If it’s any consolation, Bucky’s terrified of you.”

“Good.”

“Hey!”

She pressed her cheek against the top of your head and sighed. You stayed in that position for a few more seconds before you told Natasha what had happened with Wanda. She offered to go with you to your family gathering but you insisted you wanted to go alone.

“I gotta go,” you said. “Bucky’s taking me to dinner.”

“Oh,” she cooed, “is he finally going to propose?”

“That’s very funny,” you deadpanned. “I was starting to feel cooped up in our apartment so we decided to go out. Have fun, y’know.”

“Our apartment,” Natasha repeated with a lopsided smirk before she burst into a fit of giggles.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, embarrassed.

“That’s cute.” She pinched your cheek and you batted her hand away. “You should talk to him.”

“Don’t start.”

“What? I’m just saying-”

“Natasha,” you cut her off. “Stop asking me to talk to him. It’s not going to happen, and it’s giving me so much anxiety. You couldn’t talk to Sam, what makes you think I can talk to Bucky?”

She looked at you for a long moment. “I know you love him.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, considering. You had never really been in love before but falling in love with Bucky had been so easy. And it was particularly scary because you had never been in a relationship, only flings.

“I do,” you admitted quietly. Saying it out loud was both freeing and terrifying.

“Don’t lose him.”

You knew Natasha missed Sam, she’d told you about it, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who let others see her pain. She confided in you and her friend, Clint, but other than that she rarely shared her problems with others.

Her bony shoulder was digging uncomfortably into your cheek so you shifted and let your head rest against her chest. She started playing with your hair. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Not since he left,” she replied, then glanced down at you. “Have you?”

She tried to sound casual so you played along and acted like you couldn’t hear her heart jackhammering in her chest. “He called the landline the other day. Bucky wasn’t home so I answered.”

“The landline?” Natasha repeated with a scoff. “Your husband is old.”

“He asked if you were okay,” you said, choosing to ignore her comment. “You should call him.”

She stayed quiet for so long, you began to worry. You tilted your head to look at her, she had a faraway look in her eyes. You didn’t want to break her trance but she was starting to scare you.

You booped her chin and almost immediately a soft smile touched her lips. She cleared her throat, then checked her watch.

“You should go, you’re going to be late.”

“It’s okay,” you said. You couldn’t leave, not when she looked so sad. You knew Bucky would understand. “We can order some pizza, binge watch something on Netflix and go out for ice cream later. Like we used to.”

She laughed softly. “That sounds amazing. I kinda want to be alone tonight though, and Bucky’s waiting for you. I’m fine, I promise.” She looked down at you with a kind smile. “Rain check?”    

“Absolutely.”

With a heavy heart, you left Natasha and started walking to the restaurant. The clouds above you were low and dark, masking the setting sun. You smiled, remembering the day you and Bucky went to the park.

You had wanted to go paint outside but you got caught in a rainstorm on the way home. As rain poured down on the both of you, you caught Bucky’s hand and tried to run to the nearest subway entrance but he didn’t budge.

He stayed in the middle of the street, still holding your hand, and grinned at you while people rushed around you. His hair was plastered to his head, little rivulets of water running down his nose. He smiled at you, bright and playful, and you almost melted on the spot.

What’s the rush, sweet angel?

When you got home, you both changed into dry clothes and sat in front of the fireplace with a bowl of soup. He looked adorable with his slightly damp hair, a few big curls flopping down onto his forehead. When you started sneezing, he adjusted the blanket around you.

The next day, you felt a little feverish and Bucky took care of you. He pressed his lips to your forehead, checking your temperature. Your mother used to do that too. You doubted the accuracy of that little test but you couldn’t care less. It felt incredibly comforting. They should teach it in med school.

Bucky was waiting for you in front of the restaurant. The weather was warmer now, and you were pleased to see that his maroon bomber jacket was back. It was a rerun of the night you had met him.

“Hey you,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek. “How did it go with Wanda?”

“Good, I guess. It could have been way worse.” You paused to look at him. “You okay? You look a little nervous. We don’t have to-”

“I’m okay,” he chuckled, smoothing his hand down his jacket, lightly patting his pocket. “Shall we?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Promise me you’re not over-exerting yourself again.”

He stood in front of you, smiling kindly. “I promise.”

It had been a while since he had a panic attack, but they were always impressive and you couldn’t stand the thought of him trapped in his own mind, battling his demons alone.

You must have been silent too long because Bucky cupped the side of your face and said, “Thank you for taking care of me, angel. But I promise you, I’m fine. So what do you say? Wanna have dinner with me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as he flashed you a cocky grin.

The restaurant was a quaint little place in Midtown with curved black leather booths lining the walls and simple cutlery. There were books everywhere, arranged neatly on the shelves along the walls. The place was well-lit, yet still cosy and calm.

Despite the hour, the restaurant wasn’t crowded. There was a couple, probably in their sixties, enjoying their meals together. Several people were eating alone, a book opened next to their plate, and a few others were browsing the shelves looking for something to read.

While you ate, you filled Bucky in on your conversation with Wanda. He didn’t interrupt you, he listened to you ramble on about how much you didn’t want to go to her reunion dinner.

“You can invite them over for dinner,” he said. You almost choked on your food. “Call me crazy but I think you’d feel more at ease if you were in a familiar environment.”

He had a point. You had no idea what that night had in store for you, and you definitely didn’t want to cause a scene in a restaurant. You weren’t one for airing your dirty laundry in public.

“I know that our... um, friendship is a little unconventional but I’d like to meet them.”

“Really? Wait,” you said, spotting a bit of tomato sauce on his chin. “You have something on your chin.” You reached over and used your napkin to wipe it away. “You eat like a wolf.”

“Mhh thanks.” He swallowed his mouthful of pasta and washed it down with a gulp of water. “To be honest with you, I’m a sucker for family reunions. I love watching people’s faces when they see someone they haven’t seen in a very long time.”

“I’m not sure it’ll be a happy one.”

“Well, then you could probably use some moral support,” he said. “And I’m curious if they ever gave you a silly nickname. Or maybe they’ll share some funny anecdotes.”

You stopped mid-bite and swallowed quickly, your eyes widening in fear. You couldn’t let that happen, Scott and Okoye would jump at the chance to tease you. “Oh, no, no, no! You are never meeting them.”

He laughed. “I bet you were a cute kid. I imagine you in some paint-stained overalls, hula hooping through the 90s, listening to the Spice Girls and watching Saturday morning cartoons with a bowl of cereal or a plate of pancakes.”

“You’re not too far off.” You grinned.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” he said in a more serious tone. “But think about it, okay?”

Inviting your siblings and their partners over for dinner was a bad idea. You could already picture their faces upon seeing Bucky. It would turn into an interrogation, and it would be absolutely unbearable.

But then again, you didn’t think you could endure the reunion without him.

The waiter came over to collect your dirty plates and asked if there would be anything else. He recited the dessert specialties and you ordered something that sounded both extravagant and mouth-watering.

“I have something for you,” Bucky broke the silence between you.

You responded with a curious yet playful frown and a tilt of your head. He glanced down at the table for a second as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a slim jewellery box.

He placed it on the table next to his glass and let his fingertips linger on the lid, caressing it slowly as he hesitated. Then with a smooth flick of his wrist, he slid the box across the table. Your eyes flickered between the box and Bucky’s worried expression.

Inside the box, nestled in cream velvet, was a gold artist’s palette pendant with a delicate chain. The pendant had two paint brushes sticking out of the palette and four tiny stones representing the colours waiting to be mixed; ruby, sapphire, emerald and topaz.

It was incredibly tiny, about the length of two staples, but it made the details even more impressive. You could tell it was an old piece. There were light signs of wear and the design reminded you of the 1930s. It looked full of stories from previous owners. A testimony of love, passion and devotion.

“Oh,” you gasped as if all the air had been punched out of you. Bucky straightened up and jerked forward in his seat, his eyes round with anticipation. “Oh,” you repeated dumbly, at a loss for words.

“I saw it in the window of an antique shop on the way here,” he said.

That was a lie.

He had spent weeks searching for the perfect charm. He had a very specific idea of what he wanted to buy. Until one day, he found it. It reminded him of you; delicate, discreet, irreplaceable.

“Bucky,” you sighed, spellbound. “It’s... it’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you.” He met your eyes, smiled, and extended his hand in your direction. “Can I?”

Without hesitation you removed the necklace from its box and gave it to Bucky. After living with him for about six months, you knew there was nothing he couldn’t do. Even fasten your necklace with one hand.

He stood up and rounded the table, sitting next to you on the booth. You turned, giving him your back as he slipped the necklace around your neck. You held the pendant in the little dip between your collarbones at the base of your throat and let the ends of the chain dangle down your back.

“I noticed you haven’t been painting a lot since-” Bucky trailed off. Since you had a meltdown in your studio, since you realized your art was not good enough. Since you realized your dreams were too big to accomplish.

You looked over your shoulder and watched him fumble with the spring ring clasp. You couldn’t see what he was doing but he seemed entirely focused on the task at hand.

“Inspiration is a fickle thing, it comes and goes,” he continued. “I worry about you. You put too much pressure on yourself visiting galleries and trying to match their vision. I want you to remember who you are. You’re an artist. Never doubt yourself or your skills.”

He secured the chain around your neck and adjusted the necklace so that the little palette fell nicely above the neckline of your sweater. You stared at him wide eyed and amazed, and he smiled tenderly at you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ll never take it off.”

“My pleasure, angel.”

“I really love it but it’s too much,” you said as he returned to his seat. “I don’t want you to think I’m after your money. I’m so grateful for your help, you do so much for me already.”

“I know you’re not after my money, but it’s mine and I’ll spend it as I please. I know you like gifts with meaning. And all I want is to make you happy.”

“You want to make me happy?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course, I do.”

It was a foreign concept to you, you could hardly comprehend it. He wasn’t your childhood best friend, he wasn’t your brother or your mother’s brother, and yet he wanted to be the one who put a smile on your face.

You weren’t used to random acts of kindness. You spent most of your life taking care of others, making sure they had everything they needed, you forgot what it was like to feel loved.

And it all became so much clearer.

You knew in your heart that your feelings for Bucky weren’t one sided. Not when he looked at you like that. Not when he touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

There was a mutual, yet silent, understanding between you. This is good. Let’s not make things complicated. Even though we both want to.  And you abided by that unspoken rule, not wanting to make things more complicated.

Your eyes were overflowing with tears. When a tear escaped, you felt it bounce on your cheekbone before it landed near your pendant. You rolled your eyes at yourself and smiled.

“Why am I always crying?” you said, laughing a little. “I’m not sad, I swear. These are happy tears.” Bucky’s smile was calm and sure. “Wait, I’m just gonna-” you trailed off, wiping the back of your hand under your nose with an embarrassed laugh.

“You’re beautiful.”

You lay in bed that night, replaying those three words in your head until you fell asleep.

It took you a couple of days to come to term with the realization that your feelings weren’t one sided. A little voice in your head tried to protect your heart, it said: Don’t get your hopes up. Remember what happened last time.

But that voice was quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

Against your better judgement, you agreed to invite your siblings over for dinner. All you had to do was call Wanda’s hotel and ask the hotel staff to pass along a message. Easy-peasy.

Well, in theory, because it turned out to be stressed depressed lemon zest.

There were things Bucky didn’t know about you and your family, things that you had intentionally kept from him. One of these things was your brother’s criminal record.

Bucky had asked you a few times what Scott did for a living and you always gave him the same rehearsed answer. “Scott has a master’s degree in electrical engineering but he’s between jobs at the moment.” It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

You finally decided to tell him everything.

Scott was a thief. Before Cassie was born, and thanks to his computer skills, he used to steal from criminals and give back to those they had stolen from. He promised his wife, Maggie, that he would stop after Cassie’s birth.

He took up a job at VistaCorp but noticed that the company was overcharging their customers. Thinking that it was a coding error, he fixed it before his boss, Geoff Zorick, ordered him to change it back. It made him realize that the company was intentionally overcharging their customers.

He was fired soon after. Maggie begged him not to get involved, she begged him to think of his family but Scott didn’t listen. He broke into the company’s headquarters, hacked their system and redistributed the stolen money. Then he broke into Zorick’s house, stole a bunch of stuff and drove Zorick’s car into the pool.

He got five years.

Bucky was a little shocked but he took these new revelations well.

“People make mistakes,” he said. “He paid for his mistake, and not seeing his little girl for five years is punishment enough.” He bumped his shoulder against yours and grinned. “He sounds like a chaotic Robin Hood. I can’t wait to meet him.”

You chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Nope.”

“So... you’re not going to hide your valuables in a closet somewhere?”

“I would but I’m not sure you’d like to be stuck in the closet all night.” You rolled your eyes and huffed, thinking he wasn’t taking you seriously. He laughed quietly. “The only valuable thing I own is the bookmark my niece made for me, everything else is meaningless. And I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes.”

“You sound like Natasha,” you chuckled lowly. “But I’m glad you think that way.”

“That being said, they have a lot of apologizing and making up to do. They left you all alone. It isn’t right.”

You squirmed in your seat. “Argh, I don’t know. It’s in the past now, I don’t want to dwell on it. We were all miserable back then, and I’m not exactly blameless here.”

Bucky gave you a puzzled look. “You took care of your mom when she was sick, you sold your childhood home. You found your mom a nursing home where she gets the best treatment possible. You put your dreams on hold to pay her hospital bills. You did everything you could.”

“No, that’s not true,” you replied, biting your bottom lip.

You tried to find the courage to say it out loud. It was something that ate away at your soul. Your biggest mistake.

“I should have known something was wrong with her,” you said, rushing the words out. “At first she started misplacing things like her car keys, her glasses or the remote. She always had a good excuse, like was tired or stressed, but I should have known.”

“I misplace my keys all the time, angel. Sometimes it doesn’t mean anything. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“She’s my mom, I’ve known her all my life. I should have noticed something was wrong. If I had, maybe she’d still be with us, living in our old house.”

“C’mere,” he said, extending his arm toward you. You didn’t hesitate, you abandoned your seat on the sofa and wrapped your arms around him, your face buried in his chest. “I understand why you feel that way,” he said, stroking your hair. “But you did everything you could. You didn’t fail her. Alzheimer is... well it’s a sneaky disease. There are a lot of things we don’t understand. It’s unfair to blame yourself for something completely out of your control.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt. “But it still hurts.”

“I know,” he cooed, his fingernails grazing your scalp. “I know, my angel.”

You stayed like that for some time, your cheek pressed against his shirt. You focused on the calm rhythm of his breathing and tried to match it. He gently ran his fingers up and down your back, calming you almost instantly.

You were terrified to see your siblings again. Despite Bucky’s reassuring words, a part of you still believed that you could have done more to help your mom, and you were afraid your siblings would feel the same.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bucky said, seemingly reading your thoughts. “I won’t let them belittle your efforts.”

The next day, you called Wanda’s hotel and left a message with the receptionist. Wanda called you back a few hours later, saying that she would love to have dinner at your place instead of going out.

She sounded surprised, and you could tell she had a lot of questions, but she knew she wasn’t in your good graces yet so she simply told you that she couldn’t wait to see your apartment and spend the evening with you.

Meanwhile Bucky was having some sort of nervous breakdown.

A few days before the party, he started to obsessively clean his apartment. Every single room had that distinctive lemony scent, his homemade disinfectant, except your room. It was still a line he refused to cross no matter how strong the urge might be.

He often had those spells but they usually didn’t last more than a few hours. You could see the tears in his eyes and the disgust on his face; grimaces that had been triggered by the realization that he still couldn’t control his need to constantly clean and tidy. His OCD had been dormant, not gone.

You knew it was hard for him to meet new people. He had offered to invite your siblings because he knew it would make you feel more at ease. He didn’t care about his own needs. This man was willing to endure anything for you. How could you not fall in love with him?

You let him clean. You knew from past experience that it wasn’t something he could control and getting involved usually did more harm than good. You made sure he knew you were there and that you were not judging him in any way.

He felt so physically and emotionally drained afterwards that you simply held him in your arms until he fell asleep.

On the day of the party, you were chopping dried apricots in the kitchen while Bucky was making sure the chicken pieces weren’t sticking to the bottom of the pan.

You had wanted to order dinner from the restaurant down the street, and Bucky wanted to cook. You told him that cooking a meal for seven people was pretty stressful but he simply shrugged.

“I can do it, angel.”

“I know but you don’t have to do it.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied with a sad smile.

You remembered him telling you that his ex-girlfriend often babied him in front of her friends and that it always made him feel weak and pathetic. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove that, even with only one arm, he was able to cook a meal for an entire family.

“Okay, fine,” you reluctantly agreed. “But you’re not doing this alone.” He opened his mouth to protest but you raised your hand and touched a finger to his lips. “You can’t change my mind. I’ll be your sous-chef, and that’s final.”

So you ended up cutting vegetables for him. He made two tagines, one with meat and one with vegetables, in case anyone had any allergies or dietary restrictions.

Once the kitchen was spotless, you both went to your rooms to get ready for the night. It didn’t take you long so you checked on the tagines and waited for Bucky. The smell of harissa and coriander wrapped around you like a comforting hug.

You stole a dinner roll and checked the time on your phone. Nearly seven. A wave of anxiety rolled through the pit of your stomach. You took a deep, calming breath and decided to go check on Bucky.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard a deep, frustrated groan followed by a whine. Stifling a giggle, you tiptoed down the hallway towards his bathroom.

“C’mon, stay put or I’ll cut you!”

“Do you often threaten your hair?” you asked, leaning against the door frame. He gasped and jerked away from the sink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is everything okay?”

“I can’t do anything with my hair,” he complained. “I’m this close to shave the whole damn thing.”

You pushed yourself off the door frame and moved toward him. “Mhh, why not. A buzz-cut would make you look super dangerous.”

“You think so?” he frowned.

“Yeah,” you replied enthusiastically as you perched yourself on the counter by the sink. “A buzz-cut and a beard. Now that’s a look.”

He ran his hand over the dark stubble on his cheeks. “I already have the beard.”

“You’re halfway there.” You watched him consider what you were offering. “You know what, never mind. Your hair is too pretty to cut.”

“I should cut it though. It’s getting too long, I can’t style it.”

“Oh, poor you with your thick, fluffy hair,” you teased.

“It’s a gift, and also a curse,” he sighed with a whimsical grimace.

You laughed. “Come here, I’ll help you tame the monster on your head.”

He chuckled as he stepped between your parted legs. You took the hair dryer and a comb from the counter and started working on his hair. Despite its messy appearance, the comb ran smoothly through the strands.

“I think we need a safe word tonight,” you said while you worked.

“A safe word?” he repeated, confused. “Why would we need one?”

“Just in case,” you replied with a shrug. “I love my siblings but they can be quite a handful. So if you’re tired or if you feel overwhelmed, you just say the word and I’ll politely ask them to leave.”

“All right. Same goes for you.” He made a face. “What’s the safe word?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your eyes focused on his hair. “Flamingo?” You pulled back to look at him. “I saw an amazing documentary about baby flamingos the other day. See? It works.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. “Flamingo it is.”

You picked up his hair gel and applied some to his hair.

“There you go,” you said, smoothing the hair over his temples before sliding your fingers down the sculpted curve of his cheekbones. “Ready to break some hearts.”

It was a joke, but your voice came out breathy and small. Bucky didn’t say a word. He pressed himself closer to you, and you resisted the urge to wrap your legs around him.

He rested his hand on your thigh, then slid it from your thigh to your waist and lingered there for a few seconds. He gazed into your eyes for a moment; careful, cautious. You cupped his face between your hands, feeling the bristle on his cheeks against your palms. It was rough against your sensitive skin.

He slid his hand up your side, fingers passing over your ribs, and you let out a gasping sigh as he rested his hand over your heart.

“Did I break your heart, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low.

“Just cracked.”

He cupped the back of your neck and massaged lightly while he looked at you longingly. He continued to stare at you as you moved your hands to his chest, feeling the strong thud of his heart beneath your palm.

“I-uh,” he started, then licked his lips. “Angel, I-”

The intercom buzzed loudly, awakening the two of you from your trance. Bucky took a step back and closed his eyes. You were glad you were sitting, because your legs felt unusually weak.

“You ready?” he asked, breathless.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you nodded.

You followed Bucky to the kitchen and answered the intercom, giving Wanda the apartment number. Bucky busied himself setting the table, unable to look you in the eye. You didn’t know what to say.

Finally, he stopped moving around and faced you.

“Who am I tonight? Who do you want me to be?”

You had anticipated his question. After all it was a legitimate question to ask giving the nature of your relationship.

“Just you,” you told him. You were tired of lies and half-truths.

A knock at the door startled you.

You opened the door, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of Wanda, Okoye and Scott standing in front of you, each with a bottle of wine. There were two men behind them, both looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Hey Splotchy, long time no see, right?”

Part 11

[lavendertales]

bad guy (Javier Peña x f!reader)—part 5

summary: Overwhelmed by work and feeling betrayed and lacking control over work, Javier goes to the only place he feels safe and secure: you.

word count: 2.2k

gif: @pascalsky 

series masterlist | AO3

It had been the third time that week alone that Javier had dozed off on his desk.

There was no set schedule at the office anymore; whoever was available, preferably 24/7, they were expected at the office. No room for argument or complaining. The Cali cartel was still thriving with their business, and Javier made the mistake of believing that having direct contact with them would help him in his endeavors.

That couldn’t have been farther away from reality.

He and you have met with Don Berna a couple of days ago, eager to get any information from him as to where the hell Judy Moncada has “mysteriously” vanished, but the meeting solidified itself with nothing but secrets and more lies, and Javier had enough of being played. Regardless of the calls and meetings and raids he did, he simply could not get close enough to Cali to prove just how guilty they were of so many wrong doings.

A gentle tap on his back woke him, and he half-blindly noticed Connie’s silhouette above him, one hand around someone else’s waist.

“You should go home, Javi,” her soft voice fully woke him up. “It’s late.”

Javier rubbed his eyes and rose from the chair, confusedly looking for his jacket.

“Do you want to join us for dinner?” she asked him.

“No thanks, I’m good. You should enjoy your romantic dinner by yourselves.”

“Take care,” Steve patted his back.

Javier lifted one hand as a goodbye to the couple and gathered his things before he closed the office. He felt oddly rested for someone who had been getting only three hours a night, tops, for the last two weeks, but he also felt frustration and anger accumulating fast inside of him. He was getting nowhere with anything, it seemed. He hated the lack of control over things.

He wanted to regain his control.

He hastily drove to your apartment, knowing very well that you were also not asleep. You had been working just as hard as he had in order to gather information about the cartel. 

His mind raced like crazy, developing dozens of scenarios and possibilities of what he could do once he got there. Truth was, a large part of him wanted nothing more lately but to put his badge on Messina’s desk and move some place exotic, no one but him and you. He dreamed rarely of peace and quiet, and more importantly, you. The only person who could calm him, soothe him, read him like a book and figure out his needs before he could.

He knocked on your door, mind empty. He held his breath when you at last opened, a jumped look residing on your face.

“Javier,” you greeted him, surprise evident from your tone. “You’ve made a habit out of late night visits, haven’t you?”

He said nothing as he remained in the door frame. He examined you fugitively, remarking the loose t-shirt and shorts you were wearing, and he softened at the thought of mere comfort. But he also found relaxation in the notion that you were safe in your apartment, far from anyone who could hurt you.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked.

“I—“

He was stuck. For possibly the first time ever, Javier was truly stuck. He had no clue about the words he could say to you. As he drove to you, millions of reasons and words seemed to be sprouting from the depths of his mind and now, upon being face to face with you, nothing. Completely blank.

He exhaled, completely unaware of the fact that he had been holding his breath that entire time, and his voice cracked without a warning. He let out a pained sound, similar to a groan, one that was sufficient for you to grab him inside by the arm and close the door behind you. You pushed him down onto the couch, sitting next to him and closely examining his entire body.

You knew he was exhausted. You knew he was frustrated and mad that he couldn’t uncover the truth about Judy Moncada’s disappearance or the rest of the Cali cartel.

You took his hands into yours and waited.

“I should’ve… called first,” Javier rasped.

His voice was throated and grave, and you realized that he must’ve been under a much more severe pressure than you had originally thought. Even when you worked a case together, he did everything he could to spare you of any unnecessary effort, taking more tasks upon himself, and it was only then that you saw just how deeply it had affected him.

His big, chocolate eyes were tired, hiding a sadness behind them that sunk your heart into your stomach.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not being… whom I should be. For you. I should be… like Murphy. I should be kind and caring, despite all of the shit that I’ve seen and done. I don’t know how he does it. But I should be like that. For you.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, and Javier closed his eyes at the touch. It felt so hauntingly good that he couldn’t fathom it was something real he was experiencing. Your simple touch made him shiver and calm down at the same time, and to even think that things could, somehow, get better.

“You shouldn’t be anyone but yourself, Javier,” you whispered to him.

He gulped, an emotional turmoil taking over him as he looked at you. He rubbed his thumb over your cheek, the softness determining him to close his eyes again and enjoy it. 

“What did you come here for?”

It was a while before he responded.

“I don’t know. I thought I did, on my way here… but now… I don’t—I can’t—“

You pulled him in and pressed a light kiss on his lips, watching his reaction. Seconds later, a primal instinct woke in Javier and he kissed you back, engaging into a very sloppy, yet fiery and passionate kiss.

One thing that was clear about Javier was that, regardless of his emotional state, his body seemed to naturally know his way around a woman.

You let Javier’s tongue slide right into your cavities, touching every spot there was, his hot breath seemingly fogging your mind. You moaned into the kiss as Javier began to grind against you, now on top of you on the couch, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The gesture did nothing if spur him further on, so he began peppering kisses on your neck and jawline, treating particular spots more harshly and teasingly, biting and licking, smiling against your flesh as you moaned.

“J-Javi—Javier—w-wait—“

You could barely speak, but Javier heard you and lifted his head from the crook of your neck, inspecting your facial expression and realizing, in spite of your definitive words, that you enjoyed that make-out session just as much as he did.

“I’m just… not sure if… this is what you really want to do right now,” you told him caringly.

“I need… I need to stop thinking about this entire situation, for a while. Just for a little while. We both could use some… distraction. And what I want right now… I really—God, I really want you.”

The way he placed emphasis on his desires made you gulp and, for a brief moment, reconsider your own choice.

“Javier— “

“I need to… get my mind off of… everything. I only need you. Please. I don’t need anyone or anything else, ever. I swear, I swear to fucking God. No one else, nothing else. I just… I need to feel you, to touch you and be with you, and on you and inside of you—“

Weakened by his words and physical treatment, you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss, slowly regaining your upright position. When you stopped the kiss, you noticed a bewildered Javier looking back at you, eyes slightly teary. You caressed his cheeks gently.

“As much as I would want this, curious as I may be… and as much as you think that fucking my brains out will help you… I just don’t think this is going to help you get your mind off of what is really bothering you.”

Javier was breathless and speechless as he collapsed at your chest, listening to your heartbeat. It was perhaps the one time since his childhood that he felt truly safe and cared for, and the sudden thought of being with another woman but you repulsed him to the bones. The feeling was unfamiliar to him, but suddenly it felt like the most right thing in the world.

He almost thought that it must have been another Javier Peña who frequented whore houses, not him.

Because this Javier Peña only cared for you and you alone.

“Tonight is not the night for that kind of game that I heard you play so well, Javier,” you told him, caressing his hair again. “Tonight… you’re gonna sit here, have a glass of wine with me and talk normally to me. Like you actually trust me.”

“I trust you with my life. There’s no one else I trust like you.”

Javier lifted his head sufficiently for another kiss on your lips, one you gladly welcomed.

“Wine?”

“Yes.”

“You do understand that this means I am not approving of you hooking up with whores anymore, don’t you?”

Javier laughed, more so at your ability to make him laugh when he least expected or wanted it.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Like I told you before, I am not a piece of meat. So if you sleep with me and then leave like nothing ever happened, I will chop off your most important tool down there.”

Javier frowned this time, slightly concerned that that was no joke.

“I am not joking,” you reassured him with a killer smile. “If this is just another fun game to you, best walk away now because I am not gonna waste my time— “

“No, ma’am. I am… absolutely hooked on you. Just you.”

Both smiled, toasting a glass of wine. You caught him giggling into the glass, not paying any more attention to you, and curiosity struck you.

“What are you laughing at?” you asked, smiling yourself.

“I was thinking of asking if you have plans for tomorrow night, but given how fucked up our schedule is… well.”

“Did you notice that whenever we make plans, something intervenes? Maybe some mystical force in the universe is trying its best to send us a message.”

“Which is?”

You inhaled, as if about to confess the most difficult thing in the world. You were a woman of rationality and truth, and so was Javier, so believing in a higher force wasn’t really on either one of your agendas.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was standing in their way.

“That very first time when we agreed to go out together… Carrillo died. And then… we basically moved at the office, with little to no time… lost some more people… and I—I know it’s stupid, I know you’ll probably have a copious laugh at my expense for saying this, but I just feel like if we make plans again… something will happen.”

Javier put the glass down and gazed at you, realizing how serious you were. He knew very well just how practical you were, and for you to genuinely believe that you were potentially doomed for making plans was something that, on a certain level, he sure understood.

He figured you were just as afraid as he was, even more so of saying it out loud.

“Then we don’t make any plans,” he told you, grabbing your hand. “We’ll be spontaneous and beat any odds.”

You chuckled, almost unable to believe him.

“I mean it,” he added. “I am done with being scared or played or fooled. I am taking back control over things.”

“Dominance issues. Interesting.”

Caught off guard, Javier could only giggle in amusement for a few seconds, then erase any trace of his flustered self.

“What I’m saying is… nobody and nothing can tell me shit about what I should or shouldn’t do. I get to decide. We get to decide. And I—I wanna be with you. For real. No games, no running, nothing. You and me. We got this.”

You smiled against your will, a sense of pride overwhelming you.

Pride at the sight of a determined and confident Javier finally expressing himself properly.

“We got this,” you repeated with a nod.

It was well after midnight when you began to feel sleepy. Javier had his head on your lap, telling you about the possible leads he had worked on, but more so, he told you that he was utterly terrified and angry and exhausted.

He told you that he wanted to spend every free minute he had with you, and with Steve and Connie.

He told you that he would lay his life down for either one of you three.

He told you that he never cared for anyone else the way he cares for you.

And you fell asleep contently, with a smile on your face, just like Javier did.

previous | next  

[holykillercake]

Red String

𝕊ℍ𝔸ℕ𝕂𝕊 𝕏 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: 2.8k

summary: You had any place in the world to moor, a stable and safe summer paradise somewhere in the South Blue, or you could visit the winter island where cherry blossoms painted the freezing horizon pink. The world was on the menu, and yet you chose to break into a Yonko territory.

highlight:  ¨What about you, Y/N? Will you try to put your hands on me?¨ 

warning: Look out for your arm, it might melt with the fluff.

notes: Hi, guys! This was an anon request for Shanks x Marine Reader. I was given the freedom to write whatever I wanted, so I hope you guys like it! <3 Dear, anon, I apologize for the time it took and I hope you read it! 

𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖!

¨I have to say, not a usual place for a Vice Admiral to enjoy a vacation.¨ a smirk bent your lips as you heard the playful voice of the man who courted you with another drink. 

¨Well, I´m no usual Vice Admiral.¨

¨No one doubts that.¨ He put the sword on the table and pulled a chair, sitting close to you. ¨You have grown, Y/N.¨

¨You have aged.¨

¨Oi, not very nice. You hurt my feelings.¨ the red-haired placed the hand on his chest, over the heart, faking an offended tone. 

¨Mission accomplished.¨ 

You stared at each other for about four seconds before breaking into laughter. As always, Shanks was louder, banging his fist on the wooden table and vocalizing his amusement to anyone who had ears to hear. 

¨It´s been a long time, Y/N.¨ he wheezed, still recovering from his overreaction.

¨Yes, it has, Red hair.¨

¨Red hair? Really? I mean, you tried to kill me way too many times already. You gotta call me by my name.¨ You chuckled, sipping your drink. ¨Especially when you´re at my house.¨

You grinned, shaking your head and biting your lip. Of course, the bastard would not let this opportunity slip. 

After years of non-stop hard work, you received a few weeks off duty. That meant that the world could split open, the moons could fall into the atmosphere followed by the sun, and you would not have to move a single finger.  

Issho-san would handle that better in any way. 

You had any place in the world to moor, a stable and safe summer paradise somewhere in the South Blue, or you could visit the winter island where cherry blossoms painted the freezing horizon pink. The world was on the menu, and yet you chose to break into a Yonko territory. 

However, the Yonko in question was more than just an Emperor of the Sea. Your lives entangled at a very young age when the Pirate King was still alive, and Garp had melanin left in his hair. 

You were just two snotty brats fighting your Captains´ battles. 

¨Anyway,¨ he chugged his drink and asked for another one. ¨I missed you in Marineford.¨ 

¨Well, I guess I missed Marineford myself. Had a good view, though.¨ you answered nonchalantly. 

¨What do you mean?¨

¨I had an underling transmit me the whole thing.¨

¨Isn´t that handy?¨

You tried not to laugh. It was stupid, but every time you had Shanks and hand in the same sentence, you felt the urge to laugh.

¨I wanted to see Luffy.¨ you said.

¨Why not go there, then?¨

¨Duty called somewhere else.¨ you shrugged. ¨Besides, I would have been no help for him.¨

¨You´re saying you wouldn´t help him?¨ Shanks carried a suspicious tone in his voice.

¨Of course I wouldn't help him.¨ You took a sip of your drink. ¨But thanks... for stopping that madness.¨ 

The man casually stretched his arms above his head, tilting his head back, enjoying the warm sun.

¨No biggie. You owe me another one, and we should be fine.¨ he smiled.

¨Who´s counting?¨

¨I am.¨ 

¨I already stopped hunting you, Shanks. Isn´t that enough?¨

¨Not on my book, Y/N.¨

For a long portion of your life, you had a personal mission to give the Red Hair the same fate as his Captain. Whenever his crew was located, you would be the one hunting them. No one dared to tell you otherwise. 

By that time, you had no significant position. Maybe a Lieutenant, Captain tops. But being related to the Hero of the Marines, well, that granted you some free passes, and as long as you could hand Shanks´head in a tray, a little nepotism didn´t bother you. 

Actually, although everyone saw you as Garp´s relative, you were just his first protegé, his first rescued dog. Apparently, the highly ranked officers were going through boring times and decided to pay their dues by doing charity.

The only one you got to know was Sengoku´s kid. Rosinante was his name. To this very day, you could not think of him without the twist in your heart. 

Even you didn´t know how to describe it, and honestly, you didn´t care. Was the job done at the end of the day? Good. 

That was all that mattered until another pawn entered the game, a very troublesome one, by the way. Slept like a rock and ate all your food. You couldn´t help but fall in love with little Monkey D. Luffy. 

He was the one to give you the answer you had stopped looking for a while ago.

In order to be his older sister, you had to be Garp´s granddaughter. Everyone loved the idea, except for the man himself. 

You were as keen as Garp to make Luffy become a great Marine. You bought him tailor-made marine onesies and shared stories about the seas. Whenever he spotted you approaching with the leather book in your hands, he would get restless. 

The onesies, however, those never lasted. They were thrown in a boiling dumpster altogether with your dream of him joining you in a job one day.

The sun was about to set, and you had just returned from a long and intricate mission when you received a call from Makino saying that Luffy had gotten into some trouble. 

Not only that, The Red Hair Pirates were somehow involved. It was all you heard before hanging off the den den mushi and hopping in a Marine ship, headed to Foosha Village.  

The idea of Shanks causing Luffy any pain or just giving him a hard time made you turn into a beast. But your bloodshot eyes were washed clean by the image of your brother, safe and sound, hanging out with Red Hair, who seemed rather... different. 

¨Why would you do that?! What do you want, Red Hair?!¨ 

A lot of things went through your head, but none of them could explain why a pirate, why him, would sacrifice his arm to save Luffy. There was no way he didn´t know about your little brother´s connections. 

¨I want to pay you a drink. But only if you stop yelling.¨ 

With a swing of his hand and a smile, Makino appeared with a jug of beer before you could spit fire on him again. 

¨They´ve been really good at keeping Luffy entertained this past year, Y/N-san.¨ she said, kind as usual, before leaving.

You sighed and took a seat by his side. 

¨Why did you do that?¨

¨I bet on his life. Just that. Why is that a problem? You don´t want to feel grateful for a pirate?¨ 

Your grip tightened around the cold glass, teeth clenching and knuckles turning white. 

¨No.¨

Gratitude was never the problem. You would be grateful to anyone who risked their lives for Luffy, but he... you needed to hate him. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn´t get yourself to do it. 

¨I don´t want you thinking that I owe you anything.¨

¨You don´t have to owe me anything, Y/N. But we´ve known each other for a while now, so... we both know that you will.¨ 

His lips turned into an honest smile, no teasing behind it, and you wished not to have your heart beating faster for it. 

¨You don´t kn-¨

¨Y/N!¨ Luffy entered the bar, running to you with the brightest of the smiles on his face.¨Are you done? I have to show you something!¨ he asked, pulling the fabric of your coat.

¨Oi, behave Luffy, I´ll be done in-¨

¨Nooo!¨ he pouted before turning to the opposite side and pulling one of his impish grins ¨Look what I can do! Gomu gomu no...¨ 

His tiny hand balled into a fist, which you watched stretch all the way to the opposite side of the room before coming back and hitting him in the face. 

Did his arm just...      

The air froze in the room. You blinked a couple of times, hearing a few gasps around the bar, your gaze fixed in the same place his hand was seconds ago.

¨Luffy-kun, why don´t you come outside with me?¨ Makino extended her hand for him to take. ¨I´ll bring some meat.¨

The kid screamed in excitement and followed her, drool dripping down his chin. 

So close, Shanks. So close. He thought, lowering his head on the counter and waiting to get chewed up. However, after a few unscathed seconds, the red-haired lifted his head, almost not believe his eyes. 

That was the first and last time you bowed to a pirate. 

Of course, later on, you punched him for letting Luffy eat a Devil Fruit. 

You swore to leave him and his crew alone, as long as they did not cause bigger problems, which they eventually did, but you had a debt you could never pay, and you ended up focusing on other things. 

Those things made it difficult for you to visit Luffy as much as you wanted, but since Garp had sent him to live with Dadan, you could sleep with a clean consciousness. 

Whenever you paid him visits, he would tell you about these other kids, whom he considered brothers. One you got to meet, Sabo, smart and polite. The other, however, ran from you like you were a freaking plague. 

Ace, another one with whom you had an inestimable debt. 

¨Humor me, Y/N. If not Foosha, why here?¨

You shrugged.

¨I was passing by, and the place seemed quite enjoyable.¨ 

¨Hm.¨ the wind blew stronger, turning the gentle swishing of the palm trees into a harsher rustling. ¨Should I get my men ready for a conflict?¨

¨Relax, Shanks. Right now, this is the safest place on earth.¨

¨What do you mean?¨ he asked, genuinely curious. 

¨Oh, come on.¨ you scoffed. ¨Not even the World Government will try to put their hands on you, and I´ll kill anyone who dares to ruin my vacation.¨

¨What about you, Y/N? Will you try to put your hands on me?¨ 

His gaze was heavy on you, conquering aura filling the place. You looked at him with narrowed eyes and a smirk growing on your lips. 

This guy...

You harnessed the moment to take in his features, a lot more mature than you remembered. Although the scars were deeper and he seemed more tired, his hair shone like fresh blood, and his eyes... you were afraid to drown in them. 

¨What would you do if I decided to put my hands on you?¨ you bit your lip. ¨I heard you´ve been terrorizing some kids lately.¨

¨Gotta give them a run for their bounties, right?¨ He laughed. ¨But I also heard some interesting things about you, Y/N.¨

You raised your eyebrows as if you were encouraging him to tell you more. 

¨Apparently, I´m not the only one spending recreational time with young pirates. And there I thought Marines weren´t supposed to hunt Warlords of the Sea.¨

A shiver ran down your body, already aware of the subject he was about to bring up.

¨Well, I have no idea what you´re talking about.¨ You said, giving him your best oblivious eyelash bat. 

¨Oh yeah? Because it was brought to my attention that you made some business with... what´s his name again?¨ he pretended exaggeratedly to think about it ¨Ah, Trafalgar Law.¨

¨Only time I spoke to him, he was a Warlord as well. And I just wanted to thank him for helping Luffy in Marineford.¨

¨You´re gonna start lying to me at this point of our relationship?¨ Shanks teased to eager a bit of the tension, and a scoff left your mouth.

¨First, you´re delusional. Second, you´re too nosey for your own good.¨ 

The two of you laughed along like you were not natural enemies.

¨Did you get to meet Luffy in Dressrosa? Heard they made an alliance.¨

¨Hm, yeah. But no, couldn´t get myself to do it.¨

You frowned, hurting for have had your little brother so close but not being brave enough to approach him. Good thing he had no idea about your presence in the scene, and you could trust Law´s discretion to keep it that way. 

¨He doesn´t hate you, you know.¨

¨Yeah, I know...¨

That was true. Luffy didn´t hate you for not helping him in Marienford, just like he didn´t hate Garp for standing in his way. He had too big of a heart for that. 

Shanks let you have your time in silence, empathizing with your feelings. He too had to make sacrifices by standing his ground before.

¨What now?¨ he asked.

¨What now?¨ 

¨Garp is retired. Joker is down. What´s holding you back?¨

The air got stuck in your lungs. The reality you had been running from, the question for which you postponed to find an answer. 

When Garp took you in, the alternatives available for you were restricted, to say the very least. It was either accept the kindness of a stranger or die. He taught you his trade and molded you into one of the best-skilled marines. 

As the time passed and you learned the ugly truth behind the World Government, the disgust and disbelief made you want to leave. Fortunately, your life was not stained by the passage of a Celestial Dragon, but how were you supposed to protect them, aware of the atrocities they afflicted to people?

At the same time, how could you leave Garp after everything he did for you? Of course, he would survive if you disappointed him that much, but you owed him your life. 

What made you stay, however, was something much less pleasant than a lifetime debt. Thirteen years ago, evil prevailed, and you lost something really important. Or rather, someone. 

Commander Donquixote Rosinante. Marine code 01746. 

He had a sense of justice like no one else. He was strong, honest, and fair. Did he make you want to pull your hair out every time he lit himself on fire? Yes. Did it bother you to have stains on your tatami because he dropped hot tea on it? Yes. He possessed the ability to get you on your nerves, but he was your family. 

You were supposed to be the greatest. 

Long story short, that night, at Swallow Island, you left with more than just his dead body. You inherited his will. 

You swore to take down the man responsible for shortening his life, and hopefully, in a later day, you could meet the little boy about whom he spoke so highly. 

It took you thirteen years. No more ties of the past, no more strings on you. 

Well, just one, if you were to be entirely honest with yourself. A string of a stupid tale, a nonsense legend, a foolish myth. The Thread of Destiny, supposed to connect two people together. They say the thread may stretch or tangle, but it shall never break. 

Bullshit. There´s no such a thing. 

But assuming that there was, why did you feel that if you pulled it to its very end, what you would find would be red as well? 

Red as the vest Luffy wore diligently; red as the nose of a cranky apprentice; red as the pompous sails of the Oro Jackson; red as the locks of the man capable of stopping wars with words.

Would you dare to be anything else? Could you step out of your own life like this? Could you abandon everything you fought for all these years? 

¨You know, I´ve said it in the past, but I´ll say it again. We could use someone like you in our crew.¨ 

You gave him a two-second smirky scoff before frowning again. 

Were you worthy enough to owe yourself the chance to choose? What did it mean, the justice coat of a Vice Admiral you carried so proud on your shoulders?

If piracy took a lot from you in the past, could piracy, or a pirate, give you everything back? 

¨Y/N?¨

¨Hm?¨ You hummed, gaze locked on the lethargic view. 

Hot puffs of air played with your hair and involved your skin in a warm hug. You could hear the gentle sound of the waves crashing on the shore, coastal birds cooing and the wind whistling over the rocks. 

¨Do you think, maybe, one day... I could ask you out?¨

No matter how many times you rewound the tape, you couldn´t find a different answer, a plausible reason for the burning feeling you held for him, whatever that meant. 

From the first time you put your eyes on each other, a contract was opened without even a handshake. A deal was set without your acknowledgment. An ironic fate tied you to the same string. 

¨Yeah... maybe.¨

[capitainelevi]

5, for the drabble challenge

Thank you for your ask!! ❤️❤️

Drabble challenge: Followers send a number to your ask and you write a drabble using that sentence/prompt in your piece. “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

TW: dark themes, violence.

Dream in red

Criminal Levi. Canon setting. Word count: 2112

She was oblivious to the sights her beauty drew to her, giving Levi the perfect opportunity to marvel at the nymph across from him. He took in every move she made, committing to memory the way she loosened her honey-colored hair, which fell to her shoulders, or the way the girl bit her bottom lip in concentration as she rang up the customers of the small vegetable stand. She looked up briefly, and Levi locked eyes with her big, amber-colored ones as she gave him a shy smile. Her fate was sealed at that moment: she was everything Levi had been looking for. The missing piece from his life. Levi closed his eyes, imagining the blood flowing from the blade on his wrist as he plunges his knife in her heart, the light leaving her eyes as the fear on her face shifted to agony.

The last girl barely saturated Levi`s thirst. He wondered if Erwin ever suspected the activities that filled up Levi`s nights and if he was turning a blind eye to keep his most valuable soldier. Sometimes, he imagined the scandal that would ensure if he ever got caught. Humanity`s strongest soldier and also the most notorious criminal Trost ever had. Levi did follow in his uncle`s footsteps, after all.

Killing in the Underground was natural. He couldn`t even remember how many lives his hand took. Even his uncle gave up on him after the first time he found eight-year-old Levi crouched over the body of a young woman, his hands stained with her blood. Levi tried to keep his urges at bay when Erwin brought him up to the surface, putting all his rage and needs in slicing up titan flesh, but it lacked the intimacy he felt when he was in the same room as his prey. Nothing could replace the moment when his victims realized there was no way out for them.

From that day, Levi kept a watchful eye on his prey, learning every detail of her routine, but still keeping a safe distance from the girl. His small fantasy kept replaying in his mind day after day, of her tied to a chair as he prepared his blades to slice up her soft skin.

Climbing up to her bedroom became a routine in Levi`s days and nights. He knew everything her room had to say about her. He knew which book was her favorite by how worn out it was and how her clothes smelled like. At times, he felt so drawn to her he would linger through the night, watching her sleeping form for hours. His hand would slip to the blade in his pocket, wondering if the devastation on his father`s face as he found the light of his life sliced up in her bed would be better than the uncertainty he put the families through, as Levi disposed of all the bodies behind the Wall.

One afternoon, she came out of her house alongside three tall men, laughing with them, jokingly hitting one of them in their shoulder. Levi felt himself burning up with jealousy, his stomach was in knots, and against his better judgment, he started following the small group to the nearest tavern. Levi sat down at the bar, pretending to busy himself with a newspaper, positioning himself so he could steal glances at his small ginger, caught up in a conversation with her friends. His heart almost jumped out of his chest when Petra approached him so she could order her drink, and it took everything Levi had not to touch her. When she took out her pouch, she realized she was short on money when Levi told the bartender he would be covering for her.

“Wait, are you sure?”

Levi didn`t look at her as he pulled a few coins out of his pocket- “Don`t worry about it, just enjoy your drink.”

She eventually gave Levi a big smile and thanked him for the drink. When Petra started making her way back to her friends, Levi got out of his place and stormed out of the tavern. He couldn`t wait any longer. The image of her dead eyes plagued Levi`s days and nights. He needed to make his way to the cabin and get everything ready for his guest.

When the night finally came, Levi posted himself across from her house, waiting for his oblivious victim to fall into his arms. He pulled the hood on his face when the door opened, and the conversation he overheard was both amusing and sorrowful.

“Petra, love, maybe you should have told Oluo to come to pick you up. Too many young girls have been disappearing lately.”

Petra waved her father off, confident nothing would ever happen to her- “I`ll be fine, daddy, don`t worry. It`s just a short walk.”

Her father wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek- “I would be dead if something happened to you.”

“Nothing of the sort is going to happen to me, dad.”

Oh, my dove, maybe you should have listened to your father`s warning.

Used to living in the shadows, it was easy for Levi to tail her without her even noticing his presence creeping up on her. Petra struggled in his hold as she felt a hand across her mouth, stopping the air from reaching her lungs. She tried to bite or scratch or hit him, anything to get out of his hold, but as everything started going black, she knew there was no chance for her. I was wrong, dad. I`m sorry.

Levi covered her unconscious form and put her on his horse as he sped up towards the small cabin he kept for entertaining his most special guests. He was bursting up with excitement over the prospect of spending his night in the presence of the most perfect woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. Levi was going to take his time with her so that her death would not be in vain. He was going to take every bit of pleasure he could out of their time together.

After he tied Petra to the blood-stained wooden chair, Levi took a moment to admire her beauty. He ran his fingers through the ginger locks before tracing her plump lips with his thumb, thinking how it was a shame such beauty would be wasted in a matter of hours. How her pretty face would fall victim to decay.

The images in his mind shifted to how their life together would look like, how her sleeping sun-soaked form would look like in his bed every morning, on how he would wake her up with a kiss on her cheek. Levi would prepare her a cup of tea and her favorite dish for breakfast, and she would tell him all about the clients she had to deal with daily. Levi was brought back to reality by a groaning coming from the unconscious ginger, and against everything his instincts urged him to do, Levi made up his decision. Petra was going to live. And she would be his.

Levi shook her awake, and Petra groaned as she started to regain consciousness. She felt like her head would explode, and she couldn`t comprehend why a strange man was urging her to wake up. As memories of her night came flooding back, Petra yelled, trying to get away from her kidnapper. Levi waited for her to calm down as he tried to assure her that she was safe. When Petra stopped yelling, he approached her again, as he took her hand in his and caressed it.

“I followed the bastard here, but he ran away when he heard me approaching. Did he hurt you?”

Petra`s mind went blank as she tried to comprehend how lucky she had been. She looked into Levi`s eyes and saw nothing but concern, and the gruff-looking man in front of her became her hero. Petra threw herself in his arms, and while it was the last thing he expected, Levi didn`t think twice before reciprocating her gesture.

“No. Oh, thank the Goddesses you were here!”

Petra thanked Levi over and over again, wrapping her arms so tight around his body he nearly fell out of breath. He took Petra up in his arms and carried her to his horse to return his woman to his father. For the moment. He was sure he was in Heaven. He could see the relief and appreciation in Petra`s eyes as she told him he saved her life over and over again, and her father threw his arms around Levi the first chance he got.

Levi ignored the older man staining his cape with his tears as he threw his arms around Levi once Petra made her way back to the house- “My son, I owe you my life. Please, come back for dinner tomorrow evening. It`s the least I could do for you.”

Levi accepted the invitation and promised Petra`s father he would brief the Military Police the first chance he got. He just happened to be in the area as he saw the petite ginger`s misfortune of being chosen as the next victim of the newest killer plaguing their city. While they didn`t find any evidence in the cabin, the one Levi made sure to clean before waking Petra up, the Military Police still promised they would not treat this lightly, and it took everything Levi had not to laugh at their empty words.

He bought Petra flowers before coming to her house, and he didn`t miss the slight blush painting her cheeks as he put them in her arms. Petra`s father thanked Levi over and over again throughout dinner, telling him he was a blessing in their lives, and if Levi had any decency in him, he would have left right then. But no. Levi stayed and talked to Petra for hours and didn’t hesitate to accept the dinner invitation for next week.

Levi brought her flowers every time, and after the fourth dinner at her place, Petra asked him if he would like to accompany her to a picnic in the woods. They spent most of the afternoons lying on the blanket, with Levi listening to Petra talk about her childhood and how much she missed her mother, who passed away when she was a teenager. Levi shared a bit about his past, letting Petra know he grew up in the Underground, but realizing it must have been hard for him, she switched the conversation to his time in the Survey Corps and how he became Humanity`s Strongest Soldier.

Throughout their conversations, Levi could notice Petra`s sight swift to his lips from time to time, and while she was in the middle of telling him about her favorite dessert, Levi captured her mouth in a hungry kiss. Despite being taken by surprise, Petra reciprocated, being convinced that Levi was the greatest man she could ever be with.

Being Levi`s lover was hard, as she had to say goodbye to him with every expedition that he risked his life in, but Petra was the luckiest woman alive. Her lover was spoiling her with his attention and love. Every moment Levi got away from the military, he spent in her arms. After six months of dating, Levi announced to her he had a surprise for her, and he blindfolded her as he took her to the small apartment they would be moving in together.

Petra loved Levi more than she had ever loved anyone before, but doubt started making its way into her heart as evidence kept piling up over the months spent together. Such as the bloodstains she kept finding on his clothes as she washed them, after being fairly certain titan blood should have evaporated. Or the nights she woke up to an empty bed, as her lover claimed to have taken a walk outside to help with his insomnia. But no. She was being paranoid. Her Levi was the sweetest man she had ever met. But she had to ask. She needed to be sure.

Petra was lost in her thoughts as she played around with the food on her plate. She had just discovered another bloodstain on her lover`s cravat. Levi`s voice pulled her out of her thoughts- “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

She sighed, unsure if she should even word it to Levi, but she knew the answer already. There was no way the kind man she had been dating would hurt people.

“Levi… do you have something to tell me?”

Levi sighed as he listened to Petra voice out her worries, all while pulling his knife out of his pocket.

[iwantthedean]

Whiskey-ness: The One With the T-Shirt

Summary: A night of bad weather has Y/N and Dean stuck in the bunker together ... alone.  Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 1535 Warnings: Drinking, implied smut, Winchester charm ...  Challenge: @winchesterxfamilybusiness​‘s Make Me Swoon challenge. My prompt is bolded in the fic -- I’m so sorry this is late! Thanks for the extension! Challenge: @smol-and-grumpy​‘s SuperFriends Title Challenge; my prompt is The One with the T-Shirt. Request: A while back when I did drabbles, @amanda-teaches​ requested Dean encountering a Roomba for the first time. I kept it because I love the prompt and wanted to use it, but couldn’t come up with anything on its own. So, I incorporated it into this fic! 

Happy Reading, lovelies!

“What the hell is that thing?!”

Your brow perked up when you heard Dean yelling from the other room. There generally wasn’t much in the bunker that he couldn’t identify, so his question had your interest piqued; you closed the book you had been reading and went in search of the elder Winchester brother. 

You sighed as you got closer to the kitchen, where Dean was still cursing. You rolled your eyes. 

“Did Sam make some weird green smoothie and leave the extra in the fridge again?” 

Dean shook his head and pointed. “I was eating a sandwich and made a little bit of a mess and that — that thing came rushing in here. The possessed, oversized frisbee won’t stop following me!”

You glanced around the counter and immediately laughed. “Calm down, Dean, it’s a Roomba.”

He frowned. “A what-a?”

Pressing the appropriate button, you sent the little cleaning machine back to its dock. “A Roomba. It’s a cleaning thing. Sam must have gotten one and didn’t tell you or something. Since he’s spending the weekend with Eileen, I’m not surprised he left someone to clean up after you.”

“I’m perfectly capable of cleaning up after myself.”

“Sure you are,” you snorted. “Listen, I’m gonna pack up and go — let you and your new roomie get acquainted. Thanks for letting me make a pit stop.”

Dean nodded, still watching the doorway for the Roomba to come back and attack him. “Yeah, of course, Y/N/N. Anytime.”

You put a couple books in your backpack, yelling to Dean you were taking them for research purposes but would be back through to return them before too long. After donning your jacket, you hugged Dean tight, told him to be nice to the Roomba, and made way for the door. 

Before you could open the door all the way, the wind blew it all the way open and knocked you back a couple of steps. The green sky was blurred by hard raindrops falling in thick sheets over the open Kansas land. Three steps out the door and you were turned around, pounding on the door, begging Dean to let you back in, out of the rain. 

“Dang, kid, you were gone for like thirty seconds,” Dean noted, helping you out of your jacket after you dropped your backpack by the closed door. 

Shivering already, you hugged your arms around your chest to give you some sort of warmth. “Yeah, it’s really coming down out there. We should check the radar.”

“Let’s get you in dry clothes and warmed up first.”

He led you to his room, tossed you a towel and a t-shirt, and showed you how the shower worked. He encouraged you to get warmed up and comfortable, and he would check the weather. 

The water warmed your body quickly; you made a mental note to give Dean shit about keeping the bunker so cold. You weren’t soaked through, but thanks to the temperature inside, you had felt nearly frozen. 

“Maybe if he wouldn’t wear so many layers,” you mumbled to yourself as you dried off. You slipped your mostly dry underpants over your legs, pulled Dean’s shirt over your head, then went to figure out where in the bunker he had landed. 

You found him drinking from a tumbler of whiskey while wrapping up a phone call with Sam. 

“He called to check on us because there’s a bad storm system coming in. Told him we were well aware,” Dean chuckled. “Apparently there’s a tornado warning. Sirens went off while you were in the shower.”

You leaned against the table next to him. “Thank goodness we’re in a fortress, essentially. Want me to whip up some dinner? I know you just had that sandwich.”

Dean gave you a look. “I could still eat. As long as you can do so without making a messing and bringing out the freaky little cleaning monster.”

You laughed and headed for the kitchen. In a little under an hour, you had put together a salad, cooked some chicken, and had cookies baking for after dinner. Once you were finished mashing potatoes, you’d be set. 

Dinner was mostly quiet, with the two of you eating your fill, and Dean getting into the cookies almost as soon as they were out of the oven. He was nice enough to do the dishes on his own so you could go check on your clothes in the dryer. 

“Shit,” you mumbled under your breath. “Helps to actually start the dryer, Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes at yourself, you shut the door again and pressed the button extra hard, waiting to hear the machine start rolling before you left the laundry room. 

“Where’d you go?” you called when you returned to the kitchen to find no Dean around. He had washed the dishes the two of you ate off of, but hadn’t put any of the leftovers away. Sighing, you took care of that, scrubbed the pots and pans and set them to dry before going in search of Dean. 

He was in the Dean Cave, a fresh bottle of whiskey and two tumblers on the table beside his chair. You dropped into the other recliner, snagging the throw blanket from Dean’s chair to keep your legs warm. 

“Is there anyway you could pretend to be a human who doesn’t need to be wrapped in a minimum of three layers of clothing at all times so the rest of us don’t have to freeze our asses off when we’re here?”

“Pansy.”

He got up to go change the temperature, and you used the opportunity to grab the remote and change the channel to something you could both enjoy watching. Dean gave you a little shit over it but poured you a glass of whiskey just the same. 

Watching that movie turned into a drinking game which turned into the both of you getting plastered. The bottle of whiskey was nearly empty by the time you called it a night. 

“If the weather’s clear in the morning, I’ll be out of your hair not long after I’m up,” you promised, yawning at the end of the sentence. 

Dean put his arms around your shoulders. “You don’t have to rush off, you know. Sammy’s gone till Monday, that storm system is moving through …”

“You’ve been here without Sam before, and I’ll be that storm system will be through after tonight.”

“Whatever. It’s just been, ya know, nice to have you around for more than two seconds and without all the monster guts.”

You giggled. “You could have ruined that monster guts part if you had attacked the Roomba. Thank goodness I was here to protect you.”

You went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, whispered a Good night, Dean, then headed to find an empty room to crash in for the night. The whiskey had nearly lulled you to sleep, and far be it from you to deny yourself a good, drunk sleep. 

“Y/N, wait!” Dean called, jogging after you down the hallway. 

You turned too fast to face him, so you backed up against the nearest wall, mentally thanking it for holding you up. You raised your brow at Dean, silently asking after his request for you to wait. He leaned against the opposite wall and smirked. 

“I mean to tell you earlier, but then there was tornadoes and food … you look real good in my t-shirt.”

You smirked, too. “Oh, this old thing? It is pretty comfortable. Can’t say I was entirely upset about my clothes not getting dried.”

“Me neither.”

He stepped away from the wall, stopping in the middle of the hallway. “Maybe, for safety, we should bunk together tonight. You know, like … like …”

“The buddy system?” you supplied.  

Dean snapped his fingers. “The buddy system, yes, exactly! Whadda ya say?”

“I say …” You licked your lips and did your best to stand up a little straighter. “If you take another step, I won’t be responsible for my actions at this point in time, with this level of whiskey-ness in my system.”

“Whiskey-ness,” Dean chuckled, indeed taking another long step and closing the gap between the two of you. He leaned against one hand on the wall behind you and caressed your jaw with the thumb of his other hand. “So, these actions you won’t be responsible for — you gonna blame them on the ‘whiskey-ness’ in the morning?”

“Maybe,” you whispered, pushing yourself up to place a soft kiss against his lips, “maybe not. One way to find out. You game?”

Dean pretended to think it over for a few seconds before taking your face in both of his hands and kissing you with an eagerness you had missed in your most recent lovers … which, honestly, hadn’t been all that recent. 

Outside the bunker, tornado sirens wailed over the plains. You tensed up, breaking the kiss and huddling into Dean’s chest. 

“It’s really bad out there,” you commented, eyes wide. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Dean said, sliding his hands over your ass before tugging you up so your legs were wrapped around him and he could carry you to his bed. “I’ve got you.”

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74  @theplaidshirtmadness  @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl  @melbrandes  @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace @calaofnoldor @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @sleepylunarwolf @chances-and-miracles @sandlee44 @foxyjwls007 @cpag7 @deanwanddamons​

Two for the Money:  @jayankles​ @akshi8278​ @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles​ @adoptdontshoppets​

[fencesandfrogs]

clan culture inspiration fic master post

a collection of fics/series/w/e i've used for inspiration. ordered by how much i used them

Flightless Dove, Poison Ivy acaciapines

read it, it’s good. it's 100% my main fic inspiration, i love it, it's very good.

the light that shines on you solacefruit

huge inspiration for my riverclan. just. massively where i get a lot of ideas. probably a larger source of material than flightless dove, if i'm being honest.

RIVERCLAN leaders have a litany of names. weather caller, storm seer, spirit walker. a new leader being made is a chance to find another for the list. these names are to honor leaders for the role they play in their lives.

(names. leaders. meaning.)

so you can see where i got that from.

Warriors Redux Deconstruction Dullard on ao3 (not linked)

i've split this into two parts, because there's a lot. i'm a fan of this in terms of world building, but i've been select in what i've used from it. deconstruction is linked highly because it had a lot of key details that shaped my opinions on what wouldn't be. a lot of this i would've changed anyway, but i wanted to list WR because it'd be dishonest to act like this wasn't shaping my thoughts.

anyway, a short list of things that were mentioned in WR:D that i'd already decided on or am now using

behaviors. i mean, i've said "flicked her tail" or "flattened his ears" so much it's getting old, but by god if i am not being true to cats movements. i think WR:D is somewhat conservative on use of purring, but i've also been writing about kits, and a lot of purring is involved with kits, so special case, i suppose. but i'm very cautious with my descriptions. i've tried really hard not to use smile, because cats don't smile. that's the one that gets me the most.

water. this is kind of a specific thing. but. in ctd's fading echoes. the lake is a concern not because the cats need water, but because the prey needs water.

queens and toms. now. i have always been irritated by this. and the lack of female leadership. because toms should know they're kept on the graces of the queens. the sisters got it right. but i can't just kick out half the cast, so i'm forced to keep them. i have, however, kept toms out of the nursery. queens are protective around their kits. it's the best i can do to appease my strong desire to literally just kick every male cat out of the clan. in all of my stories, though, i keep track of who's in the nursery with what kits, because those kits are going to bond to every damn mother. it's super annoying that this isn't kept more clear anywhere. i have to do so much math and check so many allegiances every time.

kits. it's basically impossible to convince me to write this the way the hunters do, so even in ctd, we see kits not walking, not opening their eyes, until real kittens would. does this make the early chapters of growing shadows a pain because dovekit does basically nothing but sit and listen? yes. do i care? yes, it is important to me that dovekit does nothing but sit and listen because she's a baby. bb. need protect.

genetics. usually i correct coat colors for POV cats. because it bothers me. see: tortie dovekit/ivykit in CTD, and the fact that i think in jaywing, jayfeather is going to end up amber like brightheart. i need to do some research to double check, but...i think that's what will happen. (please don't ask about hollykit, ivykit, and lionkit. i don't even know who their parents are. how is crowfeather "dark grey, almost black"? what does that mean. how is leafpool even leafpool. i don't understand anything.)

religion. i'm not fundamentally changing how starclan works, because i'm writing the books where magic is confirmed real, but...i've tried to distance the connections with it. and god, so help me, i'm going to make things a proper religion for w&f. there will be religious things like prayer. god.

cultures, folklore, names. this is getting long so i'm lumping this together. basically, i've got some name stuff sorted out. it's not "traditional" naming, because i'm not going WR on this and renaming really important cats (altho the reason WR has my respect for traditional naming is because they're not afraid to rename cats to fit the scheme), but i have some pretty defined rules. and there will be folklore and stories. this is especially important for dovefeather, when she goes to riverclan.

Sharing Tongues Icej

a series. i don't think i've used much of this directly, but it has shaped a lot of my opinions on clans. it's why thunderclan is militaristic and why windclan is so strict.

it's also shaped my thoughts on a lot of parts of clan life. i'm writing this all out of order, so i'll say, a lot of the inspiration that warriors redux had, is shared in this series. i'm not sure if there's overlap in the interst, but it's got simularities.

especially in terms of relationships. i have a bit of a fascination with story telling as a form of culture, if only because in my personal life, story telling, especially verbal story telling, has always been really important. so i think a lot about it.

anyway, these are a good set of fics, and they're ranked so highly because they're kind of a paradigm i've crafted my thoughts around.

Tell me about your Ancestors Drowsy_Salamander

so this was what got me started, even over flightless dove. it got me thinking about the differences clans would have.

i haven't written "funerals. mourning. prayer." yet, although as you might guess from the fact that i have a title, it is on my mind. i think i'll draw heavily on this for that.

one other very specific line in this that i draw on is

When SkyClan was reformed by Firestar at the gorge, it was reformed in ThunderClan’s image.

now i say that specifically because i didn't want that. i wanted leafstar to find her own tradition. a lot of skyclan's destiny deals with her struggling to adapt the warrior code to her clan. so Ancestors continues by talking about tree's influence, and this is what i got from it:

SKYCLAN once held ceremonies at tilt, when the birds were quiet, but now, they hold most ceremonies at low moon, when the spirits are strongest. ...

apprentices are made at low sun, born from a time when they were not always gathered.

(ceremonies)

and i'm happy with that

Warriors Redux: Ammendment Dullard on ao3, not linked

this is ranked significantly lower than deconstruction because (a) i'm borrowing superificial things at best and (b) i had already come to a lot of these conclusions. still, i'm writing a full list because there are little things i don't think to write whole essays about sometimes. that said, whereas in deconstruction, i could basically say "yes, everything that's said here, i agree with, i'm only tweaking things for personal taste or because of differences in perspective" here it's more like "here are the things i'm using" and the other stuff is just there, but not really anything i want to use

time and date. in one of my generic CTD posts i had a few paragraphs about this. basically, i like the system of time. except for half, because that confuses me. so it's dawn, sunrise, low sun, (sun) tilt, sunhigh, dusk, moonrise, low moon, (moon) tilt, moonhigh, repeat. and kits are aged to apprentices at the beginning or rough midpoint of seasons.

numbers. math. drawing things in the dirt with claws. in short, yes, no, what the...no. just no. cats in my stories can basically count, but they don't really, like, count the way we do? they might say five leaf bares ago, because i am not saying, "the leaf bare before the one with X which was before the one with Y" and that's what a cat is thinking and maybe they have words for this, i don't know, i'm not writing that. four and nine are holy numbers, or the closest cats get. (apprentices are apprenticed at nine moons in the holy sense, because a queen pregnent for a three --- two, but who's counting --- and in the nursery for six. this will never come up in a story unless it's a background note, because it's confusing and hard to explain off the cuff.) i don't have to explain my last point.

names. i have my own rules. i don't intend on changing character names with the exception of the symbolism in jaywing and dovefeather, but i may at some point make some comments on what, based on my rules, i would do. i don't want to change names because it confuses me, but i don't want to say for sure that i won't. definitely not based on WR rules, i have my own form of "traditional naming" for the w&f world.

clan specific notes. you can find it in my writing. there's a lot of influence in it. i don't want to list everything.

come back to you one by one solacefruit

i haven't really used this for anything, i just generally like it. it's definitely given me inspiration for how i use stories, but not any particular thing.

it really is beautiful, though.

alright, that's about it.

[unmaskedagain]

Tattered Remains of Broken Dreams (Yours, not Mine)

This is based off a prompt I came across. It’s a one-shot. @virgil-is-a-cutie​ and @thyladyanput​. Hope you two like lit.

The pieces were scattered across her desk. Marinette had known something was up the moment she stepped into the classroom. Everyone had gone quiet. A few had glared at her. Some had snickered. And they all watched as she walked to her desk.

Nathanial had tried to wave her down; shaking his head with sorrow in his eyes. He had gotten there a few minutes before she did.

It took her a few seconds to recognize what the torn pieces of what had been weeks of hard work.

Once she realized what it was, Marinette wondered if it made her a bad person that she wanted to smile. Because while she honestly wanted to feel bad, all she felt was a relief. Like ten tons of weight had just been lifted from her shoulders.

Marinette looked at her desk, pulled out her phone, took a picture, and then sent several texts.

Then she shrugged, tossed the mess into a nearby trashcan, and pulled out a fresh sketchbook.

The other students, the ones who had waited for a reaction, were stunned. Where were the tears? The rage? Anything?

“Don’t you care?” Alya yelled, frustrated with her ex-bestie. “Your sketchbook was destroyed.”

           Marinette glanced up at her, “No. A sketchbook was destroyed. My sketchbook with all my worthwhile designs in safely locked away at my house. You all,” She looked around the classroom; memorizing every face.  Lila looked particularly bewildered because she had wanted to see the Asian girl cry. “ Destroyed my school sketchbook; the one I use for school-related events designs from various classmates, plans for birthday parties, and the like.”

“But you worked so hard,” Rose said.

           Mylene nodded, “You worked in it every day for months.”

“Yeah, it sucks,” Marinette shrugged. “For you.”

           That got everyone’s attention.

“What do you mean for us, Dudette?” Nino asked.

           Marinette sighed, “The sketchbook was filled with all the projects that were either requested by people in this room or were for people in this room. By destroying it, I can no longer do any of those projects,” She explained. “I did it in my free time. As my main work schedule is full of commission I’m actually being paid for. I don’t have time to redesign or remake those sketches. So I sent texts to Bustier, Luka, and anyone else involved that I can no longer work on their specific project.”

           The other students blinked.

           Marinette rolled her eyes, “That means I can’t do the costumes for the school play,”  Mylene and Sabrina gasped. “No new outfits for Kitty Section.” Rose and the other members of the band got tears in their eyes. “I can’t do the set design for Nino’s next gig.” The boy in questioned paled as he had been counting on Marinette’s design skills to wow the crowd. “The new design layout for the Ladyblog is canceled.” Alya clenched her fists. “The costume for Mylene’s short film is too. I had to back out of the school fundraiser. Let the Coach know I can no longer do any banner work. Or design the new team uniforms.” Alix and Kim’s mouths dropped. “Max’s Game-Con costume is out of the question now.” Max visibly deflated. “Ivan’s mom’s gift for her birthday is out too; pity that dress was so beautiful.” Ivan gasped. “I can plan any birthday parties or make custom cakes. The charity work you wanted my help with, I can’t do. My idea for the school trip to New York city is canceled as all my contacts and trip itinerary ideas are gone. I let Bustier know that I’ll be too busy to be class president so she’ll have to assign someone else the role. The dresses for the school dance you girls requested, I can’t do anymore.” She shrugged again. “Oh well.”

“But, but, Luka!” Juleka cried, worried about how her brother will react.

           Rose was crying. So was Mylene.

“Can’t you redo it,” Sabrina asked. “The drama department was counting on us.”

           Marinette narrowed her eyes. Us? Sabrina nor anyone else had lifted a finger to help Marinette come up with idea for the costumes for the school play. “Afraid not. There’s not enough time; to resketch everything and then actually make it. I have to focus on the designs I’m being actually being paid for. They come first.”

           Alix slammed her hands on the table, “We only did it because you were bullying Lila!”

           There were nods.

“Yeah, girl,” Alya said. “We just wanted you to know what being bullied was like. We didn’t know our stuff was in there.”

“First I never bullied Lila,” Marinette said and before anyone could protest, she continued. “Second of all, I was bullied by Chloe for years, why would you think I would ever bully anyone else,” She looked directly at Nino when she asked this. Her childhood friend. His eyes widened and he looked away. “Lastly, why should I go to the trouble and take time out of my already swamped schedule to redesign projects I did for you that you destroyed. The way I see it, it’s your own fault.”

           The entire class went silent again. Each mind weighing the consequences of their actions.

“Nathanial,” Marinette said. The redhead boy looked up. “You don’ t have to worry. You paid for your work; it was a commission. It will arrive on schedule; even if I have to work all night for a week to redo it.”

           Nathanial’s face lit up, “Thank you, Marc’s going to love it.”

“You’re redoing his work,” Alya screeched. “That’s not fair.”

“I didn’t destroy all her hard work, so yes it is,” Nathaniel snapped back at the girl before Marinette could. “Not only that but I paid for my stuff. Something none of you have ever even offered to do.”

           Some of the other students looked ashamed. It was true.

“They were custom made designs,” Marinette explained. “Any other designer would make you pay hundreds for all that works. Thousands, if it was a fully trained professional, right Adrien?”

           Adrien swallowed hard. He hadn’t been involved in actively destroying the bluenette’s sketchbook but he hadn’t stopped it either. The blond nodded, “My father would charge a lot. His last custom piece was sold for five grand, and it was just a simple pants suit.”

“What about your mom, Chloe?” Marinette asked the blond who had arrived mere seconds after Marinette and had stayed by the door to watch the fireworks.

Chloe gave the class a vindictive smirk, “For the dresses for the school dance, fifteen hundred dollars apiece; more if she had to hand sow them herself. For the rest of the work, combined, may be less than twenty grand if she cut you a deal. Anyway between ten and fifteen grand when she was still at Marinette’s level. Shame.”

Marinette shook her head, “Fifteen thousand dollars of work you were going to get for free, gone.”

Most of her classmates' faces had drained of color at the price, at realization of how big of a screw up they made. They had no idea just how much work Marinette did.

Lila was seething because it would be too hard to turn this around.

“I’m sorry,” Rose rushed to say. “We’re sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Marinette shrugged. “There’s nothing to do. And now that I know that there are people in this class who can’t keep their hands to themselves, all free commissions are now canceled.” Gasps filled the room. “From now on, if you want some work done; you’ll go to my website and request a consultation like all my other customers. Keep in mind, for custom designs, depending the size of the job, you’ll have to book anywhere between a month and six months in advance. Www.MDC-designs.com.”

           Chloe walked to the back of the classroom and sat down next to the Bluenette, “You’re still doing my dress for the dance, though right?”

“Chloe, you did a consult a year early and paid well in advance,” Marinette smiled. “You’re dress is done. You can do your final fitting anytime.”

           Miss Bustier walked into class with a smile that quickly turned to a frown at the sight of Marinette, “Oh Marinette, I was so sad when you told me you had to back out of being class president and planning the school trip and, well, so many other things. You had such wonderful ideas. How on earth you got us on the list for a tour of Stark Industries, the Gotham times, Marvel Studios, and Vogue; I’ll never know. It’s a pity that can’t happen now. All canceled, you said?” The teacher shook her head. Totally unaware of the sheer horror her words at unleashed in her students. “It’s a shame about what happened to your sketchbook. Do you have any idea what happened?”

           Marinette just leaned back in her chair, “Not a clue.”

           That time, she smirked.

           The new few weeks were horrible for the students of Miss Bustier’s class. As they all scrambled to design, plan, and actually make/do their own projects.

           Sabrina and Mylene had realized quickly they had no designing skills and were forced to tell the drama department that the promised costumes weren’t coming. Aurora, leader of the Drama club, and Marinette s friend had heard about what happened from Nathianal and spread the news to the other club members. Most were artists too and knew they would’ve died if something like that were happening. The ones that weren’t couldn’t believe they had been getting all that for free and a bunch of idiots ruined it.

           Alix and Kim found themselves participating in a lot more school fundraisers to raise money for the new uniforms and to pay for all the team trips to the away games.

           Luka had been disappointed in his bandmates and his sister and had threatened to go solo.

           Alya was forced to do more babysitting to help pay for new website design and a dress for the dance.

           Nino had no clue just how hard the set design was. And ended up nearly causing a fire at his gig.

           Lila had no clue on where to start for planning a trip as fabulous as the one Bustier made Marinette’s sound.

           Birthdays went without cake, had only cheap decorations from the store, and immaculate gift that had come to be expected every year.

           The entire class, apart from three, felt the pressure of planning the school dance, fundraising for the field trips, affording their dresses for the dance, on top of all their other many after school activities.

           No one would bother to mention just how badly their actual school work suffered; there was barely any time to study for tests or do their homework. Grades dropped. Parents were furious.

           Alix nearly lost her spot on the team. Kim did lose his spot until his grades were brought back up. Alya was forced to stop her work with the Ladyblog until her grade improved. Nino’s parents forbid him from doing any more gigs. Mylene’s dad stopped her movie work altogether. Sabrina’s dad just straight up grounded his daughter so she could have time to relax and study when she had the time. Ivan’s mom actually started tutoring him. Max’s grades didn’t drop but his stress levels increased so much his parents pulled him out of all his extracurriculars.

           Luka had no choice but to go solo as his bandmates rarely showed up for practice. It was fine, though, Marinette got Jagged to work with him on a demo album. In exchange for a new few new pieces of wardrobe…

           For Fang.

           It got so bad even the headstrong Alya burst into tears at the pressure one day. The stress was too much. Some kids found themselves constantly being late, never getting enough sleep, and were constantly worried and checking their phone just in case something went wrong And somehow something always went wrong. A few kids started having anxiety attacks. Relationships and friendship suffered as no one had time to talk or spend any time together as foretime was a rarity. Mylene and Ivan broke up. So did Nino and Alya, who got into a fight so bad in front of the school, that Nino left in tears.

           Hawkmoth had a field day with it all. Until he started noticing all the akumas came from his son’s class, and that his son was looking too good either. Gabriel Agrest may be a heartless son of a bitch but he wasn’t a complete monster.

           …Plus the Akumas were all worthless anyway. Most were sleep akuma who just put people to sleep. A couple was literally dedicated to forcing people to plan their days better. There was an akuma that literally made everyone around them feel less stressful. Ladybug didn’t even bother to show up defeat that one. Hawkmoth just pulled it back eventually.

           Marinette watched it all; not with joy or happiness as her classmates' misery, just a sense of relief that for once it wasn’t her. Everyone noticed how Marinette was nearly never late anymore. She glowed with all the sleep she was finally making up. Her grades while never anything less than good improved dramatically. Her parents were happy their daughter was so much more relaxed and happier. It was like she was a new person.

           She even found she had more time to not only design stuff for herself but actually make it. Her dress for the school dance was going to be amazing.

           …If there was a school dance. With the way, things were going and the miserable looks of her ex-friends face when anyone brought it up, there was a good chance there wouldn’t be one.

           A week after Marinette had that thought, the school play was canceled. Some sports teams were forced to forfeit away games due to budgeting issues; losing their number one spot.

           It wasn’t long after that Rose came up to Marinette’s lunch table. Chloe and Nathaniel eyed the pixie-cut blond with suspicion.

“I’m sorry,” Rose whispered. “I didn’t know how much you did. How hard you worked. You did so much for us, and we never even realized. You must think we’re monsters.”

           Marinette shook her head, “. I still don’t understand why you would do something so horrible as destroying my private property but I think don’t your monsters. Just not very good friends,” She frowned. “Not friends at all, actually”

           Rose winced at the truthful words. Now that she didn’t have time to hang off Lila’s every word, it was easy to hear just how ridiculous all her stories were. She nodded, “I requested a consult on your website. Based on your prices, I think I finally enough money for an MDC original dress for the school dance.”

           So someone in class could learn. Most of the class still muttered under their breaths whenever Marinette walked by. Not willing to take the blame for their own mistakes. Though she did see Alya casting her pitiful glances every now and then as if Marinette would suddenly take mercy and start doing everything for the class again.

“I’m glad to hear,” Marinette smiled. “I think you’ll look great in a lovely turquoise; really make those eyes pop.”

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Another book - another look (at her)

Or... The librarian and the visitor

A Kristanna fanfic Modern AU setting (one shot)

Words counting: 3410

You find the fic alternatively here on AO3

Note: I post this fic as a friendly "nudge" to all the librarians in the frozen fandom f.e. @punkpoemprose and @karis-the-fangirl (and others of course). I´m no librarian by far, but my aunt was (see notes at the end). I imagine my description of the daily work basis in the library might be slightly - if not - far off… If so, I do apologize – it´s not meant to be respectless of your great job!

Summary: Kristoff visits the Public Library of Arendelle for the first time and is most grateful for the kind assistance he gets from the friendly librarian Anna.

Many thanks go to @prettyelsanose on Instagram, who has created this stunning fanart for my fic on request - I love it!

***

Mon 10th May, 5 pm

Sven had suggested he should get himself some informative illustrated books from the library. Why not. It´s less expensive borrowing then buying lots of books and having them occupying the shelf´s space.

Kristoff wasn´t much of a reader but getting some inspirational documentation would not harm.

After going through the registration procedure at the reception desk, he made his way up to the 2nd floor, and trough to the outdoor and travel section. The shelfs were overwhelmingly full of books and magazines of all sorts. From photography illustrations only, up to scientific fact-based boulders of books, language lessons, travel reports of all sorts. Goodness how was one supposed to find anything useful in short time. Kristoff had been informed about the possibility of using the online search station. But he was still sort of old school on finding stuff by strolling the rows or then preferably ask someone of the service staff for help. It felt still rather personal.

“May I help you?”

Kristoff turned to look at some auburn-haired woman, slender in figure and with a gentle smile on her face. She must have had the bluest eyes he had ever seen, underlined by a cute set of freckles. He then realised she must be working here, a nametag at her blouse said “Anna”.

“Well… may be, thanks. I was looking for some information about mountaineering.

“Ah, I see. Do you have a particular place in mind?”

“Ehm… mountains.”

“Yes, of course. What I meant was, like, anywhere specifically? Like the Rockies, Alaska, or maybe some other continent?”

Stupid! Where actually? …

“Sorry. Of course… the Rockies sound great.”

Anna would not show any annoyance but help with finding some examples. She seemed pretty skilled in searching within the shelf and soon pulled out up to three options for Kristoff to have a look at.

“You may just as well have a seat here, help yourself with some coffee or another drink and look the books through. Or you borrow the books and bring them back within the scheduled time. It´s up to you. Anyway, if you have another question, don´t hesitate to contact me. I´ll be at the counter-desk right over there.”

Anna smiled and then went over to the desk, that was situated just across the section he stood. Kristoff wondered about that hair colour. Depending on the light that shone through the window, her hair would show different shades of red.

He must have stood for a while, like some statue glued to the ground. After a moment, Anna looked up from her work and crooked her head, smiling. She motioned her hand in a sign as for him to make use of those comfy seats in front of him, assuring the gesture with a nod of her head.

Kristoff decided to leave as fast as possible, as not to make any more a fool of himself. He crossed the room and then stood in front of Anna´s desk to check out the books immediately.

"Good choice," she chirped, "are you planning a mountain tour yourself?"

"Um, yes. With a friend of mine. We always wanted to do something like that. "

Anna stamped the last book to complete the filing and nodded in response. "Sounds good. Then I wish you a pleasant study. Please bring them back within a week, okay?"

***

Mon 17th May, 5 pm

Anna was nearly done with her afternoon shift, when that tall blond man came up the stairs and, on the landing, turned to come to her desk. For some moment Anna wondered why she would be so flustered about this. There were so many visitors coming and going, and she was a professional librarian. There was no difference from one to another…

“Hi Anna. I bring back the books as demanded.” Kristoff laid down the items on her desk.

“Hi there, Mr. Bjorgman. Thank you. I hope you got the information you were looking for and enjoyed the literature?”

“Thank you. Yes, it was… quite interesting. But then, well, I thought of getting some more to look at. After all, once you have such a lavish bunch to offer here, it would be a shame not to make use of it.”

“Oh, you´re so right. Please feel free to look around, Mr. Bjorgman.”

“It´s Kristoff.” He shrugged with a little smirk.

“All right, Kristoff. Still… Welcome and enjoy your stay. ”Anna smiled and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. The handsome visitor turned on his heels and made his way to the travel department.

Stop staring... Come on, hundreds of visitors pass your desk every day ... Why getting all flippy because of this one?

Anna shook her head, scolding herself and strolled towards the shelfs where she was supposed to sort back some books. Out of the corner of her eyes she noticed the tall blond to run his fingers along the books in front of him. There was an occasional deep breath, followed by a sigh. Maybe he needed help after all? Surely it would do no harm to ask.

“It´s terrible if there is so much to choose from, isn´t it?” Anna had leisurely walked up and held her hands in front of her chest, fingers intwined.

“Absolutely!” Kristoff smirked and shrugged. “You see, the Rockies are great. Still, we are wondering of maybe even travel to Europe. The Alps must be fascinating, too. Would you have anything about this area?” Surely, she must think him a complete idiot… But then, she was the librarian and here to help lost idiots such as him…

Anna blinked, thought for a moment, then blinked again and turned around to the shelf right behind them.

“This would be the European section”. She ran a finger across the books for travelling information, countries of northern Europe, and the Alps which were part of France, Switzerland, and Italy.

“I hope, you find what you´re looking for. Again, if you need any further assistance… you know, don´t hesitate to contact me.” Anna had laid a tender hand just vaguely on Kristoff´s arm, smiled and hurried back to her desk.

This time, Kristoff picked some books to sit down in the sitting area and started to flip through the pages. For some reason it felt nice, sitting here, and having the privilege of being helped so kindly. And for some other obscure reason, his left arm felt so warm.

And later that evening and the evenings to come, when he sat down on his sofa to go through the pages again, he felt like it was Anna that read the illustrations in his mind. Like she was the one telling the stories of those mountaineering guys, retelling their experiences.

It was weird in a way. But a good weird.

He felt like a lost idiot…

***

Mon 24th May, 5 pm

He nearly hoped she wouldn´t be there. That was stupid. He was a grown man and bringing back some books – and to get some others. Another book, another look (at her) … Stop that, you´re no primitive stalker…

Anna was there, talking to some visitor. Kristoff made his way to the desk and waited. When Anna spotted him, she waved with a friendly smile and motioned she wouldn´t be long. The other man still asked questions. She answered politely, occasionally glancing over into his direction. Kristoff didn´t like the way the other one talked to her. But then, of course she had to be of assistance… At some point, Anna nodded to her conversation partner and turned to come back to her helpdesk. She tilted her head and shrugged apologetically.

“I´m so sorry, but today is crazy. I have hardly done any of the stuff I was supposed to do. But anyway, I shouldn´t be bothering you with my chaotic time.”

Please bother me anytime… You look so lovely with your glowing cheeks when you´re rushed …

“I´m sorry to hear that. And then here I am bothering you, too. I just hand in the books and make my way over to my favourite place. Luckily, I know the way.”

“Oh. I´m sorry, that´s not how I meant it. You don´t bother me at all. Honestly.” Anna pulled up her shoulders and smiled at him, tugging some hair behind her ears.

“So, did you get along well with this bunch you borrowed? What shall it be this time?”

“Thanks, yes. Well… I thought, you know, the Alps are interesting… Still, some other part of the world might be horizon widening just as well. What you think?”

Anna´s eyes widened, and she gasped with excitement. Putting her hands to her chest, she exclaimed, “You´re so right! There´s always room for more knowledge and interests. Did you have a specific place in mind?”

“Would you have anything about the Himalayas?”

***

Thu 28th May, 4 pm

Checking the labels, Anna hesitated and then explained, “Oh, but you´re early this time. You still have a few days left. Was it not the right thing to look at?”

Kristoff glared at her. How considerate and attentive she was!

“No. Not really. I figure the Himalayas are still too far, too high, too expensive to travel to…. “

“Oh, I see. Well, those are important facts to consider. Anything you have in mind that might suit you better?” Anna reordered the books to a neat pile and trailed her fingertips atop of them.

Such a delicate movement… He would choose another book – just to get another look… at her…

Kristoff ran a hand through his hair, thinking of what he wanted to ask. Concentrate man! She´s busy and doesn´t have time just for you… Unfortunately…

“Well, since Sven – my friend – and I always wanted to see the land of our ancestors, I wondered if you have information about Norway, northern Europe, as well.

“Oh! You´re from Norway? That´s awesome. Do you know that there´s a Disney movie – a famous one, you know – that takes place in Norway? Well, actually it´s called some other name, but it´s meant to be there…”

Kristoff stared in disbelief. She knew about Norway!

Anna stopped her chatting and gnawed on her lips. “I´m sorry. You want to look up some information and I strangle you with Disney cheese… Will you find it? It´s near the books about the Alps.”

Yes, he would. And no, she was not strangling him. Kristoff assured her it was nice that she knew about Norway in such a glamorous way. A bright smile with sparkling eyes was his reward.

When Kristoff had sorted the books of his interest, he made his way back to Anna. She had just finished with the other visitor and there were not many people around for the moment. Kristoff placed his books on the desk and Anna started to go through them to check the labels for the checkout. She commented some title about it´s interesting background. And then, another one she had looked at beforehand herself.

“How come you know so much about books? I mean, anyone can ask you anything and off you hop to the right shelf to pick out the suitable stuff. It´s pretty impressive, you know.”

“Well thank you for complimenting me that way. But you know, well, this is my job, that´s what I´m trained best.” She continued with the labelling, though sort of slower than usually. Then, she looked up and tilted her head and asked with earnest interest. “What are you doing for a living?”

“Oh. I´m a physicist.”

Anna gnawed on her lips and shrugged slightly, gesturing her unknowing about physics.

“Well, I calculate therapy plans for cancer patients who need radiation treatment.”

Anna´s eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply. “Oh, that sounds really complicated. You must be so smart. And isn´t that sad to see the people with such a terrible disease?”

Kristoff chuckled quietly. “Thank you. I´m not that smart, the computer does the hard work. And I don´t see the patients. I just do the calculating. I´m the background man. That´s safe, from the emotional aspect, you know.”

“Still. That sounds interesting. Though, good for the patients that you´re doing this. Imagine we would have to swap work.”

They looked at each other for a brief instant, and then smiled, understanding.

***

Mon 1th June, 4 pm

Kristoff would take the stairs up to the 2ndlevel, once more. For some reason, even if Anna wouldn´t be there, it felt like meeting her by just hanging around that “mountain section”. So, when Kristoff arrived at the first landing, he was just about to turn for the next stair flight, when he noticed a familiar voice. He turned his head to spot Anna, crouching next to a little girl before some kids´ books. Of course, this was the kids´ department. There were numerous kids sitting in little sofas and looking at some books or were read a story by their mothers or any other adults.

He took the chance and watched for a while, observing Anna exchanging some lively and most important facts with the girl about unicorns and fairy tales, before she started crawling along the floor to get to the shelf of focused interest. She then picked out some books, that she would show to the girl. The little one nodded vividly and excitingly shrieked up to her mother, who stood just behind.

Anna showed them to the desk. And when Kristoff watched her take the girl by the hand, a fluffy feeling spread beneath his chest. She was so kind-hearted!

By the time Anna returned to the shelf to reorder the dishevelled books, she noticed a tall blond man regarding the books in front of him with a most concentrated expression. An amused smile crossed her lips and for some reason, she felt a tiny swoosh within her belly, just for a jiffy.

How sweet he looked right on this spot. But what was he doing down here at this section?

“Hi Kristoff. May I help you?” Anna asked with a smile within her voice.

Kristoff turned to glance at her with a smirk and shrugged. Luckily, this fantastic idea had popped into his mind, and he would not even have to lie to her.

“Oh, hello Anna. As a matter of fact, yes, that be great. My sister will be visiting and she´ll bring her daughter, too. I thought that I could just as well borrow some nice book for her. You know, kids and adult talks, that´s boring. And I don´t have anything for kids at home. So, some nice book for her. You know. Some nice pictures to look at and stuff…”

“Ah, of course, that´s a fantastic idea! So, how old is she then?”

“Ehm….” Oops, how old was Emily? Ah, he remembered! “She´s 10!”

Anna´s eyes widened for a blink of a moment, and she gnawed on her lips as not to giggle. Her eyes were smiling, though. She laid a soft hand to his arm and with the most professional voice she could manage, she explained.

“Well. This is the toddlers ‘section. I don´t think that´s of great interest for a 10-year-old. Would you like to follow me, I think I might just have the thing for you?”

She beckoned him with a friendly gesture, turned and moved gracefully to the other end of the shelf´s line. Kristoff rolled his eyes and pulled an embarrassed face but followed right on her heels.

Anna would stop at some place where they held some cute girls´ books with teenage detective stories, some school adventure fiction and family fun stories. Kristoff would take anything from her advice, just as not to make another fool of himself.

“Would you need anything else? The Arctic, maybe?” Anna beamed up at the man, eager to be of further help, all professionally focused, of course…

Kristoff laughed and shook his head. “No, thank you. I think this is enough for today.”

***

Wedd 3rd June, 5 pm

"Excuse me. Is Anna not here? "

The blond woman lifted her head. She stood, where he would normally find Anna. Kristoff felt disappointment rising within him. He scolded himself for the whole idea of his visit in the first place.

“Hi, I'm Julie, Anna's colleague. On Wednesdays, Anna is busy down at the archive. Can I help you? " Kristoff felt sort of caught in the trap. This was a public place and Anna was by far not the only librarian in the house ... Should he dare to ask for her especially? But then, she was the one who was best informed about his tendencies ... He would give it a try. Running a hand along at the back of his neck while he explained to Julie.

“Well, I really don´t mean to be offending… It´s just that Anna has been an awful good help the last few weeks and she knows best what I was looking for…” So, before he could say anything else, Julie had picked the phone and pushed one button to do an apparent internal call, all the way smiling. After a moment, somebody must have answered, because the woman suddenly looked up at him, nodded and then explained, “Hi Anna, there´s a visitor asking for you explicitly… Hang on!” Julie leaned a bit forward now and required politely after his name. “It´s Kristoff… Hm, yes, thank you.”

Julie put down the phone and then smiled up to Kristoff, “Anna will be up in a minute. Would you like to wait here?”

He would and laid the books onto the desk already. Luckily, Anna´s colleague had some work to do on the other side of the room. Good, he would feel less observed that way. And while waiting, he could just as well have an interested look at the advertisements of upcoming events in the house at the wall behind the desk.

“Would you be interested in joining something of these?”

Kristoff had not heard her approaching and the warmth that brought her voice to his chest didn´t fail to intrigue him time and again.

“Uh… looks interesting indeed. May be… why not?” Will you be there, too…?

“Yes, mostly, but not always." Anna had stepped a bit closer and tugged a hair strand behind her ear.

"And how was your visit? I mean not your visit. Your sister´s visit? And especially how did your niece like your efforts with the books?” Anna smiled and winked when mentioning the girl.

Kristoff pulled a face and shrugged. “The visit was nice, you know, how such visits work. But! Emily did like one story especially. I think it was the detective one. So, thank you for your help again and your good taste for girls’ interests. And I´ve brought them back, you know.” Kristoff pointed to the pile on the desk.

“You´re very welcome. But you know Julie could have taken them back just as well. No need that I have to do this explicitly.”

Again, Kristoff ran a hand along at the back of his neck and shrugged. “I know… It´s just… Well, since you were here all the time… I kind of preferred to ask for you. Sorry, if that´s a bother to you.”

Anna´s eyes widened, and she gasped with her hands clasping to her chest. “Oh no! This is no bother at all. Really no. I´m just kind of flattered that I got such a call. So, I would wonder why you do this, you know?”

Kristoff took a deep breath, his brown eyes pleading at her, and then he just blurted it out.

“Can I take you out for dinner?”

Now, Anna´s eyes would not only widen but sparkle with joy. She smiled broadly, while her chest began to heave with emotion, and she laid a hand to his arm. This time, more firmly and a slight moment longer than ever before.

“Oh Kristoff! I feared you´d never ask.”

***

Note: So, this fanfic was sort of spinning in my mind quite a while already. The idea is based on the life-story of how my aunt met her husband. She was a librarian (back in the 1950´s) and this young attractive gentleman used to show up time and again and always approaching her with tons of requests. He kind of occupied her with research tasks, so just to have a reason as to come back (to her). Then, one day, she dared to ask why….

[aperrywilliams]

The Request - Part I (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

Part I / Part II

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader is the Spencer’s best friend and although she has some doubts she'll ask him to do something big for her.

Word Count: 3238.

Warnings: Curses. Maybe the main subject could be awkward for some people. Angst mixed with other things.

A/N: I had this idea but I don´t know if could be enough for a part 2. Impressions, comments and any reaction are welcomed. Thanks for reading!

——————–

A new Monday. As always, I arrived to work 20 minutes before the usual check-in time. That gave me enough time to make my coffee and (Y/N)’s who should be arriving soon.

But time passed and there were no signs of (Y/N). That was odd. Maybe she faced a huge traffic jam. I was about to call her when I saw the elevator doors open, showing the (Y/N)’s figure. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her. She was okay. At least I thought so.

When she passed through the glass doors I noticed her expression and concern returned to my me. Watery eyes, she walked with difficulty and dropped shoulders, as if she had a great weight on her body. Without a word she slumped into the chair next to her desk. Which was strategically next to mine.

She stared at the folders on her desk for several minutes almost without blinking. She hadn't even taken off her jacket and still had the purse on her lap. (Y/N) was clearly not okay.

“(Y/N)… are you ok?”. I asked. I couldn’t help but showed my concern about her. Hearing my voice, she realized that she was not alone and hastened to say something, trying to hide what was happening to her with a fake smile.

“Hey… Spencer. I’m sorry. I didn’t greet you…”. But I knew. Her voice was almost inaudible and it sounded cracked to me.

“It’s ok. You don´t need to. But… are you ok?." I asked again. She let out a heavy sigh.

“No. I’m not” she confessed. I got up from my chair and approaches to her.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me…” I said with the hope she could trust me enough and tell me what happened.

“I don´t want to. It´s so embarrassing and hurting. I don’t know how even I managed to get my ass here”. (Y/N) shook her head avoiding my gaze that was fixed on her.

“Please, maybe I can help”. She looked at me with her puffy eyes and a soft smile. For me were the most beautiful eyes on Earth even if they had been crying a river.

“Not here. Can we get a coffee in the cafeteria of first floor?. I don't want anyone on the team to see me like this”. She looked everywhere making sure that no one was looking at us.

“Of course. Come on”. I grabbed my blazer and phone and joined to (Y/N) towards the elevator.

With our coffees, we go out of the building to an interior patio. We sit down on a bench. (Y/N) took a sip of her coffee and started talking.

"Spencer, I broke up with Darren last night." Her expression was a combination of sadness, anger and defeat. It broke my heart to see her like this.

"(Y/N)... I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. But why? What happened?”.

"This is the part that I'm ashamed of ...". Her hands was trembling and I could see how new tears formed in her eyes and were rushing out. I just took her free hand and squeeze it gently to try to comfort her. She looked up at the ceiling trying to hold back the tears and then kept talking.

“The son of a bitch was cheating on me! And the worst part... is that I only knew it because yesterday morning his other ‘girlfriend’ appeared at the door of 'our' apartment saying she was pregnant with his child.” At this point (Y/N) started to cry wildly.

Oh God . This was worse than I thought. It was like a bad movie. Very bad movie.

"What?" I tried to hide my face of shock, but it was difficult. It really was like a bad joke. Although I'm not going to lie, it always seemed to me that Darren was an asshole and didn't deserve to be with (Y/N), but it wasn't my decision and if he made her happy, that was enough for me. Also they were together for a long time almost as long as the time I had been working with (Y/N).

"I know. How I didn’t realize before?. Spencer, I was so silly. I’m a profiler and my boyfriend has been cheating on me systematically for so long! And the bastard got another woman pregnant!”. The sobs had subsided. Now anger and resentment dominated her voice. I didn’t expect less from (Y/N). If I could have smacked him myself at that moment I would have done it gladly.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N). You don't deserve to be going through this." I opened my arms and wrapped her in an embrace. I hoped that would help in part. At least so she knew she wasn't alone in this.

"I don't know Spencer. I’m so confused. I really thought things were fine…”. (Y/N)' sobs returned, but now they were muffled in my chest. I wish I could have done more.

(Y/N) returned to the BAU feeling a little better after a few weeks of leave that Hotch granted her without asking too much questions. During this time away from work I made sure to visit or call her every day to check on how she was feeling. When I visited her, we talked a lot, drank coffee, watched movies or went out for walk. I think I did a good job as a best friend, making her focus, at least in those moments, on something other than her breakup.

I must admit my selfish being felt some happiness knowing that (Y/N) was no longer with Darren. Although the remorseful side of me felt bad about it. They were conflicting feelings to me. I didn’t like to see (Y/N) hurt for her breakup, but I could not bear to see her with someone who didn’t love her as the great woman she is.

The day she returned to work the first thing she did was hug me tight and thank me for being there for her. Though honestly I couldn’t imagine myself doing something other than what I did.

Months passed, but (Y/N) was never the same. I don't blame her. Surely she thought was going to marry Darren. Before what happened, (Y/N) always was showing her happy spirit to everyone. And it was contagious. She constantly was in a good mood, even making Hotch laugh. Now she looked silent, withdrawn. During the flights it was more frequent to see her in the furthest jet' seat reading or deep in thought instead of playing poker with the rest of the team.

On one of those flights, I sat next to her. When (Y/N) saw me, closed the book she was reading and looked at me with a smile. At least I had open access to (Y/N)'s smiles, and that soothed me, although I knew there was an internal struggle in her head beyond all the things she had entrusted to me before. I didn't know what it was, but it sure kept her uneasy.

"You missed poker," I said smiling.

"I didn't feel like losing today," she replied, resting her head on my shoulder.

“Me neither, and JJ ended up winning. I'm disappointed in myself”. I tried to joke.

"Yes, that speaks very badly of you Dr. Spencer 'Vegas' Reid." She let out a genuine laugh that filled my heart. For a second I felt the old (Y/N) reappear. But as soon as she let out that laugh, that was how quickly it disappeared, giving way to a deep sigh.

"What is it? Where does that sigh come from?" I dared to ask her. After a brief second, she replied.

"I'm tired. This case was hard,” she said. I took her hand and started stroking it with my thumb.

"Yes I know. But I think there is something else that bothers you besides the case itself.” She raised her head to look at me and smiled again.

"I have to rehearse my poker faces with you, apparently," she said with a frown .

"Or you could just tell me what's going on" I replied stroking her hand without releasing it.

"True. I could...”

"You should. We are friends, aren't we?”. That reason works 99% of the time with her. She nodded. After a few minutes in silence, she broke it.

"There's something I haven't told you about this whole situation with Darren... and that's what has kept me thinking for a while..." She paused her story for a few seconds. Possibly she was thinking how to find the right words. "For a time with Darren we were trying to have children..."

I couldn't say I was completely surprised. (Y/N) was in a relationship with her boyfriend for almost 4 years. It was reasonable to think they were ready to start a family at some point. I didn't like the image my mind was picturing, but it was something to be expected.

“And well, at some point we realized maybe there was a problem. But we didn't want to delve into that and time passed. After what happened, I kept thinking… if he did it with another woman, maybe I was the one with the problem…”. (Y/N) paused a little to examine my face.

"Are you blaming yourself for not getting pregnant ?" I asked her.

"Yes. I did. But as good Dr. Reid always says, 'Look for the evidence first.' And that's what I did next . A while ago I went to the doctor and had many tests. And... yes, the big conclusion is I’m the problem... it is very likely that I can never have children by my own, Spencer." I could see how (Y/N) bit her lower lip to avoid showing the wave of feelings that were surely stuck in her chest at that time.

"(Y/N)... how can you be so sure of that ...? Maybe if you talk to another doctor...". She put one finger from her free hand to my lips to stop me from speaking.

"Spencer, it's okay. You don't have to say or do anything. I'm telling you so that you know I trust you and that I'll be fine. I just have to get used to the idea…”. It was obvious she had been thinking about this subject for a long time, because she managed to contain herself and be strong. I raised her hand taken with mine and brought it to my lips to stamp a warm kiss.

"You know you can count on me for anything, right?. Whatever, what you need. If you want a second opinion, I can help you find one. Or if you just want to talk about this…”. I said outlining a smile and looking directly into her eyes so she knew my words were true. I didn't know what else to offer that could help her. Sure she felt overwhelmed. (Y/N) nodded and a "thank you" came from her lips before resting her head on my shoulder again.

It was hard not to think all the times in the past few years when I might have noticed signs of (Y/N)'s intentions. Some things made sense to me. Sometimes we joked about a faraway future. Most of the time she hinted a wish of having a big family, a house, and a dog. I wanted it too, and I always told her I was sure she would get it before me.

Weeks passed and in our conversations with (Y/N) the subject didn’t return. A couple of times I tried to ask her how she felt about it, but she just shrugged, told me she was accepting it, and then changed the subject. So I chose to drop it and trust when she was ready to speak, she would.

One morning arriving at the BAU after a case and before going to our respective places to sleep, (Y/N) approached me and asked me to go at her apartment for dinner at night. I stared at her with intriguing eyes. Seeing my face, she hastened to explain.

“I wish we could talk, but now we both need to sleep. Today at 8:00 works for you?”. I nodded accepting the invitation. Maybe she was ready to talk.

When she opened the door greeted me with a smile, but I could immediately perceive some nervousness in her. I couldn't tell the reason. I also didn't want to ask, yet. We sat down to eat and  with (Y/N) only talked about trivial things: the last case, about the book she was reading, that she talked to her mother that afternoon, that the car was faulty and she had to send it to repair. I kept noticing the anxiety and the times I glanced at her, she tried to avoid prolonged eye contact with me.

We were drinking the post dinner coffee and I couldn't stand the insecurity anymore. I had to ask what was going on.

"I don't think you asked me to dinner just to talk about these things ..." She shook her head and settled into the chair to try to calm her nerves, which were already evident by now.

"It’s true. There is something 'less trivial' I want to talk to you about,” she confessed before taking another sip of her coffee.

"Well. I'm all ears. You can tell me. You know you can tell me anything and trust me, right?"

"I know. And I really appreciate it. I couldn't be discussing this with anyone else." She paused for a few moments, rested her hands on the table, intertwining her fingers . "Okay. Do you remember I told you about I was trying to get pregnant when I was with Darren, about my suspicions, and my visits to the doctor?”

“Yes, I remember. You never wanted to talk about that again."

"Yes. I was trying to get used to the idea. But, I don't know, I didn't want to quit yet. Although I don’t like to keep false hopes. The thing is, I listened to you and asked for a second opinion. I got new tests and the results are similar to the first time... only they opened up a little hope for me.” (Y/N)’s eyes lit up as she said it.

"That is good news, isn't it? What did they tell you?" I was quick to ask.

"I have a chance if I try artificial insemination. Now we both know what the odds mean… they are not certainties…”

“I know… it's still good news, isn't it? Are you going to try?”

"Yes. I want to do it” she said with determination.

"And what is coming now?" It wasn’t an easy question. (Y/N) was not in a relationship right now.

"Now I have to get a sperm donor. It could be an anonymous donor since I currently have no partner…”

"I understand and yeah, and anonymous donor is an option if you don't want to wait for a partner… ”

"Yes. I would have liked that. But by now it's not possible… and I don't want to wait to know if it will work or not…”

"I get it. So… you want to try it now.”

"Yes. But... my first choice is not an anonymous donor,” she said suddenly. I looked at her curiously. Could it be she already has a new boyfriend and is what she wants to tell me?

"No?, what is your first option?"

"You". She said fixing her eyes on me.

I felt like I was short of breath and had trouble swallowing. Was what I was hearing true? Above all the scenarios I had pictured in my mind in those last minutes, this was the least plausible to me.

"Me?"

"Yes. I know it is unexpected and it may seem strange to you, but believe me I thought a lot about it. And I want do this with someone who understands my situation and who I can trust. I don't know... an anonymous donor complicates me and I know that would be the most reasonable thing... but... I can’t. Doctor told me the odds could improve if the potential donor could accept taking some studies and eventually follow a treatment. Spencer, I’m so sorry, I'm pushing you to a difficult situation…”

My feelings conflicted at the time . She wanted me to be her donor. But would that change things between us?. She was asking me for a favor as a friend. What if it work out? Eventually (Y/N) would have a child of mine... where was I in this equation? I held my head in both hands. It was too much to process.

"Yes... I mean, I understand what you are saying. It makes sense, but if everything works out… we'll have a child…”

Doesn't she see the consequences of that?

“If it work out, you have no any obligation Spencer. I only…"

"Yeah, you only need my sperm. I get it…". I got up from my chair and started pacing around the room. My head was running 1000 revolutions per second.

"I don't want this to sound like I'm using you. Sorry. You don't have to accept. Just forget what I said, ok?”

"Why me? Is it just because we are friends?" Surely that last question was not entirely expected, because her face winced.

“Spencer, is everything. Because we are friends, because I couldn’t trust another person as I do with you, because you understand my situation. Because... because you are a wonderful person..."

"You know my genes might not be that wonderful..." I said with a bitter smile.

"Spencer... that's not what I mean, you know that...".

"Would you let me be a part of their life...?".

"Only if you want…". Her watery eyes told me it was true. That there was no bad intention on her part.

"This will make our friendship change, you know that, right?"

"Yes. I know. But it doesn't have to be a bad thing… besides… they are probabilities, right? ”. I nodded. I slowly approached her, taking her chin and lifting her face to me. When she finally looked at me, I started to dry her tears with my thumbs.

“Do you remember I told you that you could count on me for anything? I meant it. Even if you only want my sperm now,” I said smiling at her. That made her laugh a little. She got up from the chair and hugged me tight.

"Thanks... thank you so much!" (Y/N) said as she buried her face in my chest. Her tears were now of joy.

I could only close my eyes and hold her tight against my body. I knew this could be a huge mistake, but (Y/N) deserved a chance and if she believed that I could help her, I was not going to refuse despite all my apprehensions. Although it could mean a future torture just thinking we could have something so intimate in common and still be just friends. Even there were chances it would not work, for me the line between us had crossed.

Would it be possible to go further in the future? Could (Y/N) ever see me with different eyes? With the eyes with which I looked at her every day? Could I allow me to feed that little hope? I expected the future might one day be on my side. I allowed myself to have that wish. Time would tell whether or not I was right accepting her request.

——————–

[liums]

Malleus Draconia SR Halloween “Scary Outfit” Personal Story-This is...interesting

Part 1

Diasomnia Dorm- Lounge

Lilia- ....Here you are Malleus. I was looking for you.

Malleus- Lilia. What happened?

Lilia- There’s something I want to ask for.

Lilia- Would you decide on the disguise for Diasomnia this Halloween?

Malleus- Me? Why? Lilia did chosen it last year and 2 years ago.

Lilia- This year, in particular, I’m working as a steering committe member. I have to show up in the club activities .

Malleus- However, I don’t know what to do. I think there are more suitable people...

Lilia- No, only our Lord.

Lilia- Choosing a disguise means deciding Diasomnia theme for year.

Lilia- if its such an important thing...in my opinion, then I, or the dorm learder must decide.

Malleus- Does Lilia, who looks forward to halloween every year, decides the outfits for that reason?

Lilia- Kufufufu...Well, there is another reason.

Lilia- Its boring that I get to decide a costume every year.

Lilia- However, if the next king of the Valley of Thorns chooses, all diasomnia students will be curious.

Lilia- Of couse, I am too. How is it? Will you do it?

Malleus- ....All right. If Lilia says so, I will choose.

Malleus- Certainly, I will choose a ghost costume with various monsters caracteristics (Didn’t understand well,its literally translated as- Certainly, I was dressed in a ghost costume with various monsters as mortifs from each dorm)

Malleus- I will go to the library and try to find useful books.

-Library

Malleus- ....Well, what kind of disguise should I wear?

Malleus- Even if I choose a theme, it needs to be relatable with Diasomnia.

Malleus- A high-rank being is desirable, but....

Malleus- If I choose the dragon, Lilia will complain I should deviate a little more.

Malleus- It should be a creature that I myself has never seen. If I do that, It will be possible to make a difference to the other Dorms.

Malleus- If I look up local folklore from diferent regions, I may find information about creatures that you can’t find regularly.

Malleus- However, it will be hard to find those books.

Maleus- I’ve heard that you can search for the book you need by using a computer in the library....

Malleus- .....No, it’s complicated to use them.(poor Malleus ｡T ω T｡) .Let’s go around and looks for a book.

...*some time passes i think*

Malleus- ...98.....99....this is the 100th book.

Malleus- No way, there are about 100 folklore books in this library...

Ortho- Wow! So many books!

Malleus- You are....the youngest Shroud.

Ortho- Malleus Draconia!

Ortho- What happened to be stacking a lot of books around?

Malleus- I have to decide on a Halloween costume.

Malleus- I was gathering books, but when I noticed, I was surrounded by a lot of  books.

Ortho- Hmm. Can I help you if you are looking for something?

Ortho- If you are interessed, you can use a database instead of the books in the library.

Ortho- And if you use the ”Olympus” search engine

Ortho- You can also do a semantic search that uses the user intentions and purposes. How about?

Malleus- In other words....what do you mean? (why is this cute)

Ortho- It identifies what Malleus Draconia wants to find out. (also Ortho deserves best brother award)

Malleus- Hmm....I understand.

Ortho- “Activate voice recognition function. Start the semantic search”.

Malleus- ......................

Ortho- ....Oh, so?

Malleus- what?

Ortho- Um...Can you tell me what you want to look up, even if its fragmented?

Malleus- Can I?

Ortho- Of course.

Malleus- Then...I am looking for information on creatures used as inspiration in halloween costumes...

Ortho- “Searching...”

Malleus- What happened?

Ortho- Don’t worry, can you tell me more?

Malleus- ....Alright.

Malleus- I would like to consider a high-ranking creature suitable for Diasomnia.....

.....

Ortho-”Search complete”

Ortho- I found it, Malleus Draconia. I’ll project the image on the wall right away!

Malleus- Oh, This is.....Interesting.

                                                    Part 1 end

Part 2

-.Library

Ortho- Is this the creature that Malleus were looking for?

Malleus- Hmm...The King who dominates the demons on Bald Montain.

Ortho- It has a big pitch black body and huge wings. And its penetrating eyes....so cool!

Ortho- I’m certain there was never a costume with this concept in the history of Night Raven College before.

Malleus- Certainly he is a high-ranking being....

Malleus- However, if the body is all black, it will not stand out. Lilia would likely complain that it’s too plain.

Ortho- “Researching.....search completed”

Ortho- If that’s the case, then look. A headless horseman who rides trough the valley at night!

Ortho- A galloping horse swinging a sword! The red cloak stands out, dosen’t it?

Malleus- ....No, its no good.

Ortho- Eh!? Why?

Malleus- When it comes to reproducing its appearence that has no neck, The costume becomes too complicated.

Malleus- Besides, it would be difficult to prepare horses for all the students.

Ortho- I see....

Ortho- Reflecting the current information, the next image is...This!

Malleus- .....Oh? It’s quite small but, is this red being is.....a dragon?

Ortho- Oh? Dragon should have been omitted from the search since we looked it up before....Oh!

Ortho- This is not a dragon. (doragon is what they said, they mean the english version of dragons, lthe classics like maleficent one) Its a dragon! (”Ryuu” wich means dragon in japanese, they are refering to oriental dragons, like the one in Ramshackle dorm and the one from Dragon ball Z, chinese dragons basically)

Malleus- A dragon(ryuu)....A being that lives in the Far east and is sanctified by humans.

Malleus- It combines both strenghth and grace.....A dragon-like high ranking being....

Malleus- Above all, a being that I have never seen myself...

Malleus- Alrigh, I decided. The costume of Diasomnia will be a dragon (ryuu)

Malleus- Detailed information is needed create the costumes. Can you search for it?

Ortho- Yeah! Leave it to me!

.....

Ramshacle Dorm

Malleus- ....Sorry I kept you waiting.

Malleus- This will be the halloween costume for Diasomnia this year.

Sebek- Young....Young master! Such a dignified figure! (hes crying.. 0.0)

Silver- It really suits you.

Malleus- How is it Lilia? I want to hear your opinion.

Lilia- Its has such a sophisticated design, but its really collorful....I like it!

Lilia- Looks like it was the right choice, leaving you decidde the costumes.

Lilia- I would have never guessed you would use a Far eastern dragon as a motif...

Malleus- Its not a dragon.

Malleus -Dragons and dragons are different, from appearence to abilities, the kind of horns and the lack of wings....they only look similar on the surface.

Lilia- Hahahah wow! Its like how you said. You managed to do so susch a good  research in a short period of time. You are such a prefecionist

Malleus- It was thanks to the yougest shroud. He did a good job

Malleus- Though...I didn’t understand at all how he did it. (*pat pat* its alright, its alright, u are perfect just like that)

Lilia- Well, the costumes are perfect, lets give them to the dorm members.

Malleus- Ah. This year’s halloween we’ll bring more fear than before.

 -Halloween day-

Malleus- Trick or threat! (my lips are sweet, does that count??)

Malleus- Fufu... The majesty of this dragon, Ill burn it in your eyes...!

     END

So as I suspected, that tail is REAL ,Malleus confirms it in one of his lines.

Also XD when Sebek and Silver were little they’d wet the bed on the halloween because Lilia would always scare them, Diasomnia is one big family and I just love it

Add me if you want uwu

-Please don´t post it anywhere else, just redirect them here

disclaimer- I do not own Twisted Wonderland or any of its characters

[jerichomere]

MBS EPISODE EIGHHHHT

weak. I hate to say it but I could feel it in my heart from the start. It had good moments but this episode just didn’t bring it home. I’m going to break this up into my usual notes and then some general evaluation. Notes: What is the deal with curtain and food? He has so many weird scenes with meals.. there’s probably some hidden meaning here but I don’t know what it is And they didn’t get to chuck-root the school :((((( Constance? Wants to pour acid on curtain’s feet Haha I liked Kate’s little “Nyoope” when the recruiters found her Martina redemption and the fighting tetherball team, sure Jackson and Jillson get even more unhinged. they terrify me We got Kate yeeting Constance up the tower, but her bucket had a built in rope motor somehow WE GOT KATIE-KAT but we didn’t get Sorry it took me so long And Milligan’s still moody instead of joyous Go Constance, break the thing, yay Number Two and Rhonda had some real shippy energy in this episode and PLEASE they are SISTERS Two more close profile shots of curtain in this episode, one where he is physically shorter than Milligan but dominating the interaction, and one where he’s physically looking down at Reynie but Reynie’s getting to him. Reynie has a heart to heart and curtain passes out. That’s different. Sticky even said, “it’s anger” and he was like “no, it’s vulnerability” oooooookay then. The whisperer is not an intercom/loudspeaker. sheesh. So the kiddos leave and the twins talk, resolving nothing, then curtain escapes REYNIE AND MISS PERUMAL NO COMPLAINTS HERE *sobs* Kate and Madge at the end <3 Constance refuses adoption!?!?!?!??! And no age reveal obviously rip Sticky’s family redemption he’s going to the totally not made up Boatwright Academy now Mr Benedict is like, I love you all, no snowball fight, the end. SIKE Curtain, SQ, and a totally real engineer lady are on a BOAT. You know, I felt bad for the engineer this whole series, as she is portrayed as kind of doing the technical work hoping it’ll be used for good, while curtain abuses its practical application, but her mood really shifted in that last scene. She was like heheh hey guy that I know is definitely is evil, howabout this mysterious blueprint... are they really trying to set up the sequel. Some tree branches will have to get pretttty bent.

Evaluation: keep reading! (sorry it gets long)

To recap what I’ve said from the start, I think the casting is fantastic but the tone is wrong. The darker, more saturated filter, the isolating camera shots, and very understated music make things colder and stilted. This is a constant throughout the whole series. The book was warm, messy, and full of charm, which I didn’t feel watching the show.

characters were.. compromised? Mr B starts off with a LIE about test winners going to Boatwright Academy. That undermines EVERYTHING he does from then on. “Regrettable but necessary” DOESN’T cut it. He’s also just so anxious and jittery instead of his gentile, kind, strong book self. Just from the show, they didn’t frame his genius very well. He seems more like a fool. Not really confidence-inspiring. In the same way, Being directed to cheat is one thing, but Reynie should NOT have lied to SQ to manipulate him into seeing the forest or whatever. Yeah reynie felt bad about it and SQ called him on it, but this is like the core values of our protagonist team, the strong love for truth. Also, I feel like in the show Reynie’s leadership isn’t highlighted. Like, everyone else has their thing but you almost wonder why he’s framed as the main character. The girls got bonding and the boys got bonding but there was hardly opportunity for him to really bring the team together into a cohesive unit Also, as much as I love Number Two’s life of crime (because it’s funny), she too should have that love of truth, but instead regularly does unlawful things. AND they never explained her eating, and even stopped having yellow clothes :( Additionally, the side story of her and Rhonda’s friction (entertaining I suppose) also really changed the character dynamic. In the book, the adult team was unwavering and wise, a sturdy basis for the perilous missions of the children. But their internal strife, while adding drama, makes them seem unreliable and less absolutely good and trustworthy. And I think trust and integrity are key parts of the book’s solid narrative. Constance’s refusal of the adoption felt wrong too. She was like, “Respectfully decline, but. I’ll stick around here.” I think they were trying to keep going with her contrariness, but it just comes across as foolish pride? Constance is a LITTLE GIRL. She DESERVES a FAMILY. SHE DESERVES A LOVING PARENT (and two wonderful sisters). Yeah family doesn’t have to be by blood OR lawful paperwork, but her actions in this scene really just. cuts off the feels at the knees. We KNOW she’s strong and independent but that doesn’t mean she HAS TO BE or even necessarily WANTS to be all the time. Over the course of the series we see her warming up to people, a kind word here, a little smile there, but this adoption refusal is.. harsh. Then we’ve got Sticky. Yes, he struggles with the comfort of the whisperer. And he overcomes it. BUT in one of the earlier episodes, they had him fighting with the team, defending the whisperer, dismissing his friends... and I count this as betrayal. It may be extreme on my part, but I think he went too far. The Society is the Society. In the book he bested his fears for them and with their support. Yeah he desperately wanted to just give in but he had PRINCIPLES and knew why he couldn’t. His honor, his responsibility to stop curtain, and his loyalty to his friends got him though. But in the show he just dumped them. And then was like, oh oops jk I’m back. (I knowwwwww the book has the privilege of being able to explain characters’ thought processes and emotional states, while shows have to work with more tangible actions and words but stilll I did not Like That) And finally, curtain wasn’t smart. He had hired people doing all the work. He just used it to his ends. Less evil genius and more manipulating creep. But this? I’m more ok with. As an villain, he got the job done. But this makes him less of a foil for Mr Benedict and more of an antagonist, if that makes sense. In the book they never knew each other, but were both alone in the world and greatly smart, and they chose verrry different paths. Whereas in the show he and B were always kind of opposites, warring in motivation and method from the start.

Let’s talk about the boss battle (such as it was). I said it was weak and I meant it. The book is heart pounding. There is so much going on, and so many people in play, the narration jumping all over the place in real time, all culminating in that clash at the top of the tower. Now, the show... the highs weren’t the highs. It felt more like checking off story points. Kate and constance outside - check. Resist the whisperer to stall for time - check. Milligan reveal - check. Reynie starting to figure out narcolepsy triggers - check. Constance shouting then you are the greatest fool of all - um, no, that didn’t happen. Constance defeating the whisperer - check. Curtain escapes - check. We got zero action. No good fights. I know Emmy Deoliveira is a kid and I’m not mad at her for not being able to do action sequences or run with Constance piggyback. But there was almost no physical conflict on-screen, and that’s Kate’s real time to shine. Also they had Number two and Rhonda in the tower ready to fight and then they just didn’t. All this build up for nothing. Furthermore, and I think this is the biggest problem, there was no momentum. Yeah they cut from scene to scene, but the music and tone cut scene-to-scene too. So there was like, dramatic music, Kate’s ready to fight! Get hyped! and then cut to absolutely silent, mr curtain staring at someone. feel mildly disturbed. and then cut to Rhonda and Number two being friends and ready to fight! Aww! And yay! Get hyped! And then cut back to Sticky sitting in a chair, dead silent. It goes on like this. The music, the urgency, should have carried throughout, building in intensity and desperation as the kids come together and curtain unravels more and more and then BAM! curtain down and OH NO! the whisperer and finally Constance’s “I... DON”T.... CARE!!!” and then the madcap escape from the island. Watching, I just couldn’t get swept away. Storywise, they tied it all up and logically it made sense but the emotional culmination just wasn’t there. It was over and done too quick. It fell flat. I didn’t feel the struggle, the suspense. And then they gave us a fabricated Mr B and Curtain conversation that didn’t really help anything. And then the falling action had some nice moments but as I mentioned, the things with constance and sticky kind of made it feel less relieving, joyful, and sweet. I know a snowball fight is elaborate to set and film but I would have loved to see it.

Final thoughts I can’t help but love the kids. I’ll say it again, I sure liked this casting. And for all the changes they had to make, the original central plot was there, and most of the characters were recognizable even with all the alterations. So I did have problems with some of that underlying integrity, as well as the overall tone and execution, but I also laughed at the little funny things, jammed to the title theme, and was excited to see this, my favorite book in the world, get more recognition. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to adapt a work of prose into an audiovisual medium, and considering how outlandish the book sometimes got, they gave it their best shot. I didn’t love it but I can recognize the accomplishment. In terms of faithful and well-made adaptations, on a scale of Percy Jackson to Harry Potter, I’d give The Mysterious Benedict Society a 6.5/10.

[mariamermaid]

You should see me in a crown

(young) Han Solo x Fem Reader

Summary: Han meets his ex-girlfriend and comes to realize, that she might have lied about her actual descent…

Words: 2.3k

A/N; inspired by the song from billie eilish

Halloween Masterlist

 The situation was as always unfortunate for Han and Chewbacca, they just always found trouble when they truly didn´t need it. The planet Arrran was fairly known within the higher circles of the Republic, mostly due to their high resources of special metals used for weapons. It also led back to the factor, that the royal family was rich, popular and enjoyed a high impact in political acts. Han Solo was hired to get a certain type of stone metal and since he neither could afford to buy it the legal way, nor was able to steal it, he found himself locked up in a cell in the royal prison in the capital city. The palace, a dark grey, almost black building with many high towers and golden embellishments was decorated with white tiles in the interior room. Long red curtains hung from windows as big as the millennium falcon, dropping like blood on the floor and the flags with the kingdom’s sigils hung from the ceiling. Han was kneeling at the ground of his prison cell, trying to figure out the mechanism to unlock the door. Chewie roared, but Han ignored him, too focused on the small mechanism in front of him. “Chewie, shut up! I´m trying to concentrate”, he hushed his tall friend. Chewie opened his mouth again, but a different voice interrupted him.

“You should listen to your Wookiee when he tries to warn you.”

Hans head snapped up, his dark blonde hair falling back and his eyes widened, recognizing the voice. “Y/N”, he breathed. He couldn´t believe his eyes when you starred down at him. You wore your hair neatly put together and a uniform of the Arran kingdom out of red and black fabric, the symbol and details embroidered in gold. He remembered the night where he met you in a pub in Boonta in the outer rim. He got himself involved in a fight and you helped kicking ass, as a thank you, he helped you getting to the Bormea-Sector. While travelling together you were somewhat involved in a romantic relationship with the famous smuggler. To this day you had thought of your time spend together as a good memory, but finding him the cell in front of your feet, you questioned your judgment. You rose your eyebrow, questioning. “What are you doing here?”

His mouth was slightly opened, his eyes traveling up and down your body. “You never told me you´re from Arran.” “I told you, it didn´t matter, at least back then.”

He leaned back up, brushing dust off his dirty clothes and pulled himself closer with his hands on the bars. His clear blue eyes meeting yours. “Y/n, you need to help me get out.”

“You tried to steal from us, be happy if they don´t behead you with the same metal you´d try to steal. The king will send out guards to get you, he will decide your punishment.” You explained coldly. “Y/n, how-“ “I´m loyal to my kingdom, Han.”

His mouth opened again; eyes full of anger. “You changed”, he pressed out.

“Maybe for better.”

 Bite my tongue bide my time

Wearing a warning sign

Wait till the world is mine

 You left the prison with quick steps and hurried to your rooms, feeling your voice inside your throat shaking and your legs getting weak. Never had you expected to find him in Arran or for him to find out the truth. Throwing yourself on the king-sized satin bed, you starred at the ceiling. Candles enlightened the room, even though the sun was shining, but clouds quickly came closer and soon the sky would be grey and dull. You were loyal to your kingdom, but there was a small part inside of you, that didn´t want him dead. Deep down, Han was a good man. It had been a mission; you were sent undercover. It was never intended for him to find out you were a princess.

Sighing you sat up on your bed. “Kaslia, I need to get ready!” You exclaimed and your personal maid entered the room. She wore the typical grey uniform of maids and nodded. “I need to talk to father”, you added explaining and joined her in front of the collection of dresses. “Is it about the prisoner?” She asked curious. Technically, she wasn´t allowed to, but you had grown up with Kaslia; she was like a big sister. “Yes, I´m going to save him.”

 Visions I vandalize

Cold in my kingdom size

Fell for these ocean eyes

Your father sat in his office, the glass front facing his desk with a view over the city. The desk and shelves were dark auburn wood filled with books, cards and more books. A golden globus of the planet floated on his desk as a decoration and he was currently reading through newly submitted reports from the factories. He didn´t wear his armor, a rather simple garment on his broad body. Even in his older years, he continued to work out and train for fights and with his grey hair tied together and the thick beard, he could look frightening. But his glance softened when you stepped into his office. “Ah, my daughter, a sight for sore eyes! Beautiful as always!”

He greeted you and rose from his chair. You smiled softly at him. “Father.”

He pointed to the chair across from him, gesturing you to sit down. “I see you´re here with purpose.” The velvet dress hugged your body, while golden plates sat on your shoulders and a black cap fell down your back. Your heels clicked on the stone marbled floor as you sat down. Your father leaned back in his chair, arms resting on the table with his hands crossed.

“The prisoner, who tried to steal from us- “

“I heard he can be charming, this Han Solo”, he interrupted your thought-out plan. You nodded a little thrown off. “Do you remember when you sent me to the mission to the Bormea sector? He helped me back then.” “Do you expect that to change something?”

“I expect it to milden your punishment, he saved me and my cover back then.” “By that, I can assume, that he doesn´t know about your identity.”

“He doesn´t.” You sighed. Your father always had been a hard debate partner, he trained you since you could walk. To him, you weren´t just his princess, or his daughter; you were his everything and one day, you´d sit on the same throne. He nodded. “I understand, Y/n. I´ll give a second thought and see you at the meeting then.”

 The time till the meeting for Han went by so slowly, it almost drove you insane. You hated the fact that he was still able to slip back into your mind, even though you hadn´t seen him months before. Kaslia cleared her throat and you flinched, getting pulled back from your thoughts. “The meeting will start, are you ready?” You nodded while standing up again, and she stepped closer to put the crown on to your head. “What if will you do, if he´ll be punished to death?” Kaslia asked you as she was still close enough to you. You rose a little from the bended position, holding your head high again. The gold crown with the bloodstones filling you with strength. “I won´t let it happen.”

 Han was standing at the side of the large room; the middle was filled by the two thrones. There were for the king and queen, but since your mother had died when giving birth to you, it was now yours. Four guards were placed at the entrance, two at the side of the king and two to watch the prisoners. “Princess Y/n of Arran!” The voice of the guard echoed through the hall.

All eyes were on you, but Han´s and Chewbacca´s were the most surprised. You wore the same dress, the cape on the floor being pulled by your steady steps. Lips painted the shade of blood and the crown on your head shinning like the golden sun.

 You should see me in a crown

I'm gonna run this nothing town

Watch me make 'em bow

One by one by one

One by one by

 The guards bowed as you walked past them. For a millisecond, you glanced to Han and Chewie, but they couldn´t read your face. You knew the dress fit you well, but the look on Han´s face? You knew to treasure it. Your father waited in front of his throne until you found your place next to him, to sit down. “The prisoners will now evaluate the situation from their eyes.”

Han and Chewie stepped for, well he needed a little push from one of the guards, as he was still not able to tear his eyes off your shape.

 You should see me in a crown

Your silence is my favorite sound

Watch me make 'em bow

One by one by one

One by one by one

 It was Chewbacca, who gave his friend a rather rough kick against his leg, which brought Han out of his rigidity. “Your highness”, he made an awkward bow. “I was hired for a client to bring the metal.” “Who is this client of yours?” Your father´s voice was hard and the room felt like shaking as he spoke up. Han seemed nervous. “I try to keep the identity of my clients private”, he paused while taking together his courage. “I´m sure you´ll understand as you like to beware the identity of your daughter safe when on mission.” You slightly inclined your head to the side, interested to watch. Han was playing his cards well, better than you had expected. “I reread the report from the mission, where you helped her. She didn´t mention you before.”

“The importance of secret keeping within missions may vary from the side of perspective”, you explained, voice just as steady as your fathers. “Yet, my daughter has found an unexplainable liking in you.” Neither of you looked directly at each other, both focused on Han and Chewie.

“He saved my life.”

“And so, did she”, Han interrupted again, this time looking back at you. “She singlehandedly took out a dozen of men, just to free me.”

“Why didn´t you try to make a deal to win the metal and instead try stealing it?”

“Your highness, no offense, but would´ve you given it to me?”

 Count my cards watch them fall

Blood on a marble wall

I like the way they all

Scream

 Silence flooded the hall; your father was scratching his beard and Han glanced back and forth between the two of you. You swallowed, trying to look as calm as possible.

Suddenly your father placed his hand on yours. The action took you by surprise and you were sure, he was aware of it. “As my daughter explained previously, you apparently saved her life, so I will spare yours and this of your hairy friend.”

“His name is Chewbacca-“, you fell in his word and Chewie roared in agreement.

“Anyway, you´re free to leave the planet. I advise to do to as quickly as possible, before I change my mind.” A small smile started growing on your lips and Han nodded happily.

“Thank you, your highness and if you ever need something, I´ll be more than happy to help out.”

Your father´s jaw was still tightened; you knew he did it because you had asked him to. “I have my own resources”, he explained with his voice low as always.

“I was actually talking to the princess.”

“Have a safe journey, Han Solo.” You returned.

Tell me which one is worse

Living or dying first

Sleeping inside a hearse

I don't dream

 You kept a safe distance while watching Han and Chewie pack their things, to them and to your father. It was an easy guess, that some kind of aftermath would follow after your actions and you were okay with that.

As the sun set and dusk laid thickly, you snuck to the millennium falcon, Kaslia covering for in the mean-time. You wore the uniform again, the dress was impractical, but you let the hair open. “What will your client think if you come home with empty hands?” Han looked up to find you in his ship, smirking like nothing ever happened. “You know, I always manage to get away with it.” He stepped down from the storing space and Chewie watched the situation from the side, acting like repairing something.  “Maybe it´s better if you don´t return with empty hands then.”

You pulled out a small cotton bag and threw it to Han, who caught it while furrowing his brows. He found the metal in it and couldn´t help smiling. “You lied to him for me, I never saved you, not once. It was always you who saved me.” He laid the bag on the table and stepped closer to you.

“One day, I´ll be sitting on that throne and I´d like to do it with a clear mind.”

You paused. “Not all lies are bad.”

“I liked you more in the cargo pants than with the crown on.” He grinned and put a strand of hair behind your ear. “We don´t get to choose.” Sadness laid in your voice and Han pulled you into a hug. “I know.”

 You say

Come over baby

I think you're pretty

I'm okay

I'm not your baby

If you think I'm pretty

 When he left your embrace, you starred up to him. “Maybe I should come and visit you?” He suggested and you let out a chuckle. It was a stupid idea; you both knew it. It lightened the mood though. “You´re going to be good at it, you know? Reigning and all.” You hummed in response and pressed a simple kiss on his warm lips.

 “You should see me in a crown

I'm gonna run this nothing town”