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super-unpredictable98 · 4 years ago

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Before The Sun (Young Blades AU)

Part 2: Good With the Ladies

(Before The Sun Masterlist)

- How is she like, sire? - D'Artagnan asked.

- She is just perfect - Louis clapped in excitement - I have never seen a girl as beautiful before, her eyes, her hair... Her skin is so warm and delicate.

- And how do you know? - D'Artagnan laughed.

- I kissed the back of her hand, her tender, talented hand... She is quite spirited, you know? Has a lot of opinions, I never thought I would like that, but I did. I like that she was not afraid to say what she actually thinks.

- I suppose you'll be leaving again to meet her...

- She said she would think about it.

- That means yes, sire - he nodded with a chuckle.

- Oh God - Louis whined - I just want to hold her, to tickle her... If she knew I was king it would be so much easier! I could just command her to kiss me and let me touch her bosoms.

- I would advise against asking to touch her bosoms for the time being, sire.

Louie nodded with his eyes shut as if that thought pained him deeply.

- How can I make her like me, D'Artagnan? How do you do it?

- Why don't you ask Ramon to help you write something? Ladies love to hear beautiful words.

- That is a great idea! I need to find him this instant so we can...

- Your majesty - Mazarin walked into the chamber - I need your signature on a few documents concerning the new methods of tax collection.

- Argh - Louis groaned - I cannot believe I have to go through so many hours until it's time!

- Time for what, your majesty?

- Nothing, don't worry about it, Mazarin...

-------------------------------------------------------

- I see you have decided to meet me again - Louis walked up behind Juliette, startling her and nearly making her ruin the painting in front of her.

- Don't flatter yourself, Louie. I might as well be here to paint that tree.

- Except, I know you are not - he smiled - there are millions of trees in Paris, you chose the one right where I asked you to meet me.

- Well, maybe this is the most beautiful one.

- In that case, you would not mind if I left, right?

- Don't - Juliette turned to face him for the first time - it is nice to have someone to talk to.

Louis smiled even wider, he completely expected her to let him go. The fact that she wanted him to stay made his heart race. Maybe he did have a way with the ladies after all...

- I have been looking forward to this meeting all day.

- And why is that?

- Because I simply can't stop thinking about you, miss Juliette. You and your snarky comments.

Juliette smirked as she continued painting. She has been thinking about him as well, not that she would ever say it out loud, but he was the last thing on her mind before she fell asleep.

- I am glad to hear that. I have plenty more of those...

- I would love to hear them, but I suppose we have more interesting things to do with our mouths...

- What are you suggesting, Louie? - Juliette stopped and narrowed her eyes.

- This.

Louis leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, but just for a second before she slapped him away. He furrowed his brows, agape.

- What on Earth possessed you to do that? - She chastised.

- You're so soft and so beautiful... I thought you liked me - he rubbed his rapidly reddening cheek - since you came to see me again.

- Even if I do, you can't just kiss a girl like that! You need to ask first.

- Since when?

- Since I said so! It's common courtesy...

- I will make sure to ask permission next time.

- Who told you there will be a next time?

- Forgive me, Juliette, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just very hard to control myself around you.

- You have your own will, you did not kiss me because you had to, you kissed me because you wanted to.

- Let me show you how sorry I am, please.

- And how would you do that?

- I wrote you something... A poem.

Louis pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and carefully unfolded it as he cleaned his throat dramatically. Juliette looked at him with folded arms, curious as much as she was angry.

- Go ahead - she nodded.

Could I die without your kiss?

It feels so divine to be yours

I shall give you the heart that secured

The man I was before your bliss

I stand here your prisoner, still, I am free

Ready to become whoever you want me to be

A shadow to keep you warm in the snow

A faithful servant that never says no

From now on I only say the words you want to hear

Any life that came before you will forever disappear

I will be so much, and everyone, and everything

Forever at your service, I am your slave, I am your king

As long as my body lasts on this world for your embrace

As long as my blood runs in my veins don't you fear

Even when the night hides your beautiful face

Come the moon, come the sun, I will always be here

- Louie... Did you really write this for me? - Juliette asked in awe.

- Um... Yes, I did. A friend helped me, he is a poet, but I did write it.

- Those were the most beautiful words anyone has ever said to me.

- You deserve every last one of them.

Juliette dropped her brushes and held Louis' hands instead. He couldn't believe it worked, that she really enjoyed the verses that took him hours to compose.

- Maybe you should have started with that instead of the kiss, you would have a better chance.

- May I kiss you now?

- Louie...

- I think you won't regret it, I have a special way to kiss - he cocked an eyebrow smugly.

- What does that mean? - Juliette widened her eyes, slightly worried.

- Don't be frightened, I guarantee you will like it.

Louis placed both hands on Juliette's back and pressed his lips to hers, slowly letting his tongue slide between them.

Juliette tensed up and her eyes fluttered open, surprised by the gesture, but Louis simply moved his hands to her face and her neck, making her melt in his arms and let her tongue caress his as well.

- You just put your... - She panted, her cheeks blushing furiously - In my mouth...

- Do you like it?

- I love it! Where did you learn that?

- A lady once showed me, I call it french kissing.

- I never thought I would be so grateful to one of your former lovers.

Louis smiled, Juliette looked even more beautiful with her lips red and slightly swollen. That made him want to kiss her all the time, so she would always look this way.

- I knew you would enjoy it.

- Can we do this again?

- As many times as you want, mon chou... Well, at least until the sun decides to come up and ruin our fun.

#young blades #young blades fanfic #louis xiv #robert sheehan fanfic #oc #fanfic #imagine

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black-kitten-imagines · 6 years ago

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Scary on the Outside but Soft on the Inside ~ Monroe x reader

Word count: 3,746

Warnings: swearing, violence, mention of abusive relationship

Summary: Nick and Monroe help the reader out of an abusive relationship.

A/N: Don’t get into cars with strangers!

Once upon a time, in a faraway city in the United States of America, there lived a cop. A cop with a gift – with the gift to see. And oh boy the things he saw.

After a long day of hard work Nick finally left the precinct. It was already dark and it was pouring when he walked down the steps and over the street. With hunched shoulders the Grimm made his way to his car. Just as he wanted to open his car door he heard a weird noise – it sounded like quiet sobbing. Nick looked up. There a few meters away he saw a young woman standing next to the door to an apartment block. She was completely soaked, her (f/c) dress clung to her skinny body. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her body trying to stop the shivering. (H/c) hair hung into her from crying and the cold reddened face.

Filled with worry Nick walked up to the girl. “Hey, are you okay?” “Not really.” “What happened? Can I help you in any way?” The girl sighed. “I really don’t want to bother you with any of this. It’s just... it’s just...” She started sobbing. “It’s just that I’ve lost m-my keys. A-and now I can’t get in ‘c-cause my b-boyfriend won’t let me in.” Sniffling the girl continued, “And now I don’t know what to do. I... I’ve been standing here for hours.”

“Well, your boyfriend sounds like a dick”, the Grimm replied. Nick started taking off his jacket. “What... what are you doing?”, the young woman stuttered. “Here, take this. You’re completely soaked.” He handed her the jacket. “Thanks a lot.” “Hey, this might sound creepy but... but would you like to come to my house, you could warm up and have dinner with me and my girlfriend. Being a cop I would feel horrible leaving you out here and my girlfriend won’t mind you coming over and staying the night.” “Well... I don’t have anywhere else to go so... okay”, the girl replied.

She hesitantly followed the Grimm to his car. While opening the passenger door for her he asked: “So what’s your name?” “Oh... I’m (Y/n) (L/n).” “Well, nice to meet you, I’m Nick Burkhardt”, he said closing the door for her

A few minutes later Nick lead (Y/n) up the steps to his front porch. The light turning on as he knocked on the door. A few seconds later the door was opened by Juliette. Her happy smile quickly turned into a look of pure confusion, her eyebrows knitted/knotted downwards, when she noticed the girl accompanying her boyfriend. Nick stepped forward, hugging Juliette and giving her a kiss.

“Hey Juliette! How was your day? This is (Y/n). I found her out in the rain.” The three of them stepped into the house while Nick was retelling the story.

“Oh god! What a dick! You know you are welcome to stay the night if you want to”, Juliette replied. “Thanks a lot. I would really like that”, (Y/n) answered gratefully. “Good, but first of all let’s get you dry”, the red haired woman continued cheerfully, “come with me.” Together the two women went upstairs. (Y/n) followed Juliette who showed her the shower. “Here are the towels and I’ll quickly bring you some fresh clothes. Mine should more or less fit you”, Juliette explained hurrying out of the bathroom and returning a few minutes later with some black, warm sweatpants and a purple long sleeved shirt in her arms.

“Here you go. I’ll be downstairs making dinner. If you need anything just call me”, the red haired woman said passing on the dry clothes. Leaving the room she closed the door behind her. As (Y/n) stepped into the shower she turned on the water. Sighing as the hot water met her bare skin, she was finally able to let go of all the fear and stress that the day had held for her.

Later that evening the three of them sat at the wooden dining table, a plate of spaghetti in front of each of them. After a few moments of eating in silence (Y/n) spoke up. “I can’t thank both of you enough for letting me stay the night and I truly hope that I am no burden to you.” “Of course not. We’re happy to have you”, Juliette replied with a kind smile. Setting his fork down Nick commenced talking : “I don’t want to intrude into your personal life, but may I ask you if your boyfriend is so horrible to you, why don’t you just leave him?” “Well”, the girl sighed and looked down at her plate. Looking up she continued telling the story. “He’s the only person I really know here. I don’t have any family or friends living close by. You know, I’m not originally from Portland, I was raised in (y/h/t). And with the job I have would never be able to afford an apartment.” “And why did you get together with him in the first place?” (Y/n) smiled dreamily while drifting off into the past. “He wasn’t always like that. He used to be so friendly. It was love at first sight.” Juliette gave the (h/c) haired beauty an understanding look.

When everyone was finished with eating and the dishes were in the dishwasher, the Grimm’s girlfriend showed their visitor the guest room. Getting some extra blankets and pillows and putting them into the arms of (Y/n), Juliette noticed a faint bruise the size of an apple just below the girl’s collar bone. “What happened?”, the red haired woman asked while nodding towards the discoloration. “Oh that”, the girl said shaking it off, “It’s nothing. I just fell down the stairs a few days ago.” “Well, I hope it doesn’t hurt too much”, with those words she turned to retire to bed.

Later on, lying in bed, the situation of their guest was still occupying the minds of the hosts. “What kind of person do you have to be to let such a petite girl alone in the rain?”, Juliette put an end to the silence. “Her life with him must’ve been hard.” Turning around in the cop’s arms so that she could look at him more easily, she worriedly asked: “Did you see the bruise on her chest?” “You think he hit her?” “I don’t know but I’m happy you found her.” With that the two of them finally fell asleep.

The next morning when Nick awoke he made his way downstairs. Passing the guest room, who’s door was open he saw the bed tidily made and the extra clothes nicely folded lying at the foot of the bed. He continued his journey to the kitchen where he found a note on the counter-top standing next to a pot of freshly made coffee.

Reading the note Nick started to smile and poured himself a cup of the pungent liquid. The message was from (Y/n) thanking them for letting her stay the night. As a sign of gratitude she made them breakfast. Just as the young man finished reading the last few words his girlfriend walked into the kitchen. Coming up from behind Juliette hugged Nick kissing him on the cheek. “What d’you got there?”, she questioned curiously. “It’s a note from (Y/n). She made us breakfast, which is keeping warm in the oven.” “Aww, that’s so sweet of her.”

A few days later Hank and Nick were once again busy with a suspicious case. “So, what do you think of this? Any Wesen that could fit the profile?”, Hank asked as he closed the passenger door of Nick’s Toyota. “Honestly... no idea”, the Grimm sighed, “but I’ll head back to the trailer later on. Wanna join me?” “Sure thing, anything to catch this killer.” The two of them walked towards the new crime scene surrounded by the typical yellow tape when a person that was walking in their direction caught Nick’s attention.

The girl was looking downwards, (h/c) hair hiding her face. The detective thought that she looking oddly familiar. As the girl came closer he recognized her. “(Y/n)? Is that you?”, he asked making the girl look up. It actually was (Y/n). She looked really sad and like she had been crying for a while, her eyes red and puffy. Nick could clearly see some quite horrible, blueish-greenish bruises that had formed on the delicate face, neck and even decolleté of the young woman.

As soon as (Y/n) laid her eyes on the familiar man her eyes started to tear up. Noticing this the Grimm quickly rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her in a comforting way. “Oh god, what happened to you?” While crying onto his shirt she tried to explain it to him interrupted by a few more violent sobs. “It... it was him. It’s ne... never been this bad and this... time I just couldn’t stay... and... and I’ve been sleeping at work for the past few days but... my b... boss noticed and said I couldn’t sleep there any... anymore and I don’t know what to do!” At that last part the girl started to full out cry salty tears streaming down her beautiful, (s/c) cheeks.

Patting her on the back to calm her back down Nick replied: “Shh... shh... calm down. Everything is going to be fine. Shh.” He then hugged her once more tightly before he turned around to his colleague who had been watching the spectacle curiously from farther away. “Hank, carry on to the crime scene with out me. I have to get her home to Juliette!”

After Nick had brought the sobbing girl to his house, Juliette had patched her up and the two of them were sitting on the couch. (Y/n) was cuddled up in a comfy green blanket, her knees pulled up to her chest and a cup of steaming tea in her hands. After a few minutes of silence during which Juliette intently watched her guest, she spoke up. “So (Y/n), tell me about your boyfriend. How did you meet?”

Leaning back against the pillows the younger girl started to tell her story. “Well, Tray and I, we met at school, we shared some of the classes. It was love at first sight”, she sighed thinking of the wonderful time they had together, “We went on a lot of romantic dates – pick-nicks at the beach, candle light dinner, ice skating under the starry sky – and he was such a loving and caring guy. The both of us originally lived in (y/h/t) but Tray received an amazing job offer here in Portland, so we moved. The first few months everything was amazing, life in a big city was unknown and exiting to us.”

The girl’s face fell as she continued: “But then he lost his job. It was a horrible time for the both of us. I had to earn the money to pay all the costs, we had to move from our nice house to a tiny apartment.” (Y/n) inhaled deeply and then exhaled shakily trying to keep calm. “Tray started drinking a lot more frequently and after a while he often brought other women home. Most of the time I ignored them. He then started to act abusive towards me, hitting me, screaming at me.” At this point tears silently rolled down her cheeks. Juliette moved to pull her into a hug as (Y/n) sobbed out: “And the worse thing is that I can’t leave because I have no where to go!”

Meanwhile Nick had made his way to (Y/n)’s apartment. He stormed in finding her boyfriend sitting on the couch a beer in his hand and pointed his gun at him. This of course made him really angry and unfortunately and to Nick’s surprise he started to woge into a Siegbarste. “Don’t you dare move!” The mutual surprise that Nick was a Grimm was evident in Tray’s eyes but was quickly overshadowed by rage. Nick moved closer to the guy as he spoke furiously but still unusually calm. “Now listen closely, if you ever lay another hand on (Y/n) or any other girl for that matter in an abusive way I will know and I will come back and do what my ancestors would be proud of. So don’t you dare!” Leaving the threat hanging in air Nick left.

The next day the Grimm went over to his Wesen friend’s house. Nick and Monroe were standing in the tidy kitchen talking about the current case that the two detectives were working on. “Thanks, I’ll check that out.” Nick thanked his friend for his help and was about to turn away when he remembered something.

“By the way, I need to ask you for another favour.” “What?”, Monroe replied after sighing and rolling his eyes. “I need you to look after someone for me.” “Really? After what happened the last two times?”, the Blutbad replied surprised, “I don’t think I’m the right choice.” Monroe held his hands up apologetically and moved back a step.

“You’re the only choice. She’s a friend of mine... or rather an acquaintance. At the moment she has no place to stay ‘cause at the moment she shares an apartment with her abusive boyfriend”, Nick tried to convince his friend, then quickly added: “Who’s a Siegbarste by the way.”

At that comment his friend’s eyes widened in shock. “Really? You’re kidding me, right? A Siegbarste. Come on”, Monroe said disbelievingly. The cop tried to reason with him. “I can’t let her stay at Hank’s – he has no idea how to handle Wesen, and I have the feeling her boyfriend might come and look for her even though I warned him. She can’t stay at my place ‘cause I want to keep Juliette out of all of this.” “You still haven’t told her?”, the Blutbad asked. Nick nodded as a response. “Man, and now I have to deal with a Siegbarste.” “Please?”, the young man plead. Sighing Monroe replied: “OK, fine. But you owe me one!”

A few hours later that day Nick and (Y/n) stood on the porch of the blue house knocking on the door with the stained glass window. Shortly after the door was opened and Monroe welcomed them in, hugging Nick and politely shaking hands with (Y/n). “So... (Y/n), this is my friend Monroe”, the Grimm addressed the young woman pointing at the other male/man who had just closed the door behind them. “He has kindly agreed to let you spend a few nights here.”

“Thank you very much. It is very kind of you to let me stay”, she thanked smiling. Monroe who was a little struck by her beauty replied: “No problem, I’m happy I could help.” Taking her jacket and hanging it on a hook the Blutbad then showed his guest to the living room. “Make yourself at home. I still have to quickly discuss something with Nick and I’ll show you around afterwards.” (Y/n) nodded understandingly and then settled in on the sofa while the two men made their way into the neat little kitchen.

As soon as the two of them were out of hearing distance Monroe turned to look at his friend. “So you say she was hit by a Siegbarste?”, the brunette asked disbelievingly. “Yeah!” “Surprises me that someone that petite would survive those hits”, he remarked looking through the open kitchen door at the girl sitting on his sofa. Turning back to his companion he then let out a whisper. “So does she know about... you know? Does she know... about us?” “About Wesen? No”, Nick shook his head, “and I’d like to keep it that way. She’s been through enough lately without knowing.” “OK, good.”

After their short talk the cop quickly said his goodbyes and left.

The two of them spent the next hour touring the house and talking about the old clocks that Monroe had restored. “So, would you like a cup of tea?”, Monroe kindly asked his guest. “Yeah, sure”, (Y/n) answered happily. While Nick’s friend was busy in the kitchen making them a pot of tea, the young woman was setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table in the living room.

Just then the door bell rang. “I’ll go get it”, (Y/n) called out to her host? Walking towards the wooden door. But before she reached it the door was kicked open violently, broken parts of the door flying into the room, revealing a big muscular man – Tray, (Y/n)’s boyfriend – who was seething with anger. (Y/n) ran into the kitchen, pulling at Monroe’s beige knitted jacket. “It’s him! Help me! He’s here!”, she cried out terrified tears starting to pool in her beautiful eyes. Monroe couldn’t stand her looking like this and everyone who would cause this state on being.

That was when Tray came into the kitchen breaking some stuff on his way over. Stepping into the kitchen the burly man grabbed (Y/n)’s arm and forcefully pulled her towards him but before she was too close to him Monroe intervened by punching his opponent. This resulted in Tray loosening his grip on his ex-girlfriend, who Nick’s friend immediately pushed behind himself further into the kitchen.

Suddenly the intruder woged and turned into his true form as a Siegebarste. Seeing this elicited a noise of shock and fright out of the girl. Tray started attacking Monroe aggressively. As the Blutbad didn’t want to scare his guest he at first fought back in his human form. Obviously he stood no chance against the brute power and force of his taller opponent.

“Quick! Call Nick! The phone’s on the table”, he hurriedly advised (Y/n), who followed his orders. As soon as she heard the detective pick up on the other end she gushed: “He’s here! We need your help! Monroe’s fighting him!” “I’m on my way!”, was all she received as an answer before Nick hung up.

Right then a loud crash was heard caused by Monroe being thrown into a wooden table, which collapsed under the weight of the man. Now being as furious as Monroe was he as well woged. This caught Tray off-guard which the Blutbad used to his advantage by immediately throwing his rival across the room which resulted in a shelf with some cookbooks toppling to the floor.

That was when loud footsteps and car doors getting slammed was heard. Both Monroe and Tray turned back into their human forms just as a heavy armed police squad followed by Nick ran in through the broken door only a few pieces of wood still hanging from the hinges. While the rest of the police squad circled Tray, two officers tried to put him in handcuffs, but of course this didn’t go well and because of his Siegebarste nature Tray knocked them out cold with ease. One of the police men was quick-witted and shot him in the leg which resulted in him crumpling together, loosing his strength through the pain. Now they were able to put him in handcuffs and move the attacker out of the premises.

As the other police officers moved out of the house and left Nick stayed behind. The detective moved over to his friend and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m really sorry about this. I had hoped he wouldn’t find her. You are alright though?” “Yeah, Nick. I’m fine. Everything is fine”, the Blutbad answered exhausted. “Is she hurt?”, his friend inquired. “No”, Monroe shook his head, “she’s fine.”

Once Nick had left Monroe moved over to (Y/n) who was sitting on the couch staring into thin air. “Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened there. And I totally understand if you are scared of me because of what you’ve seen. I’ll ask Nick if you can stay at his place or maybe Hank’s”, he ended the silence a hint of sadness lacing itself into his voice.

“Hey, hey. Slow down. I’m fine with staying here.” “Really?” “Yeah! Now come here”, she assured him with a smile. (Y/n) stood up grabbing Monroe’s wrist and pushing him to sit on the sofa. “We gotta get you cleaned up.” “No. I’m fine. I can do it by myself”, he said and started to push himself up off of the chesterfield. “No!” The girl sternly looked at him making him sit back down.

She got up and went into the kitchen. Coming back with a clean and damp cloth she sat down on the coffee table in front of Monroe, one of his legs on either side of her. (Y/n) leaned forward wanting to dab his wounds but Monroe stopped her. “No, don’t do it. I know you’re scared of me! You don’t have to do this!” “Monroe! Stop defying me! I’m not scared of you!” She swatted his hand, that he had raised to interfere with her plan of helping him, away.

“You’re not?” “No, why should I?” “But... but... you saw me.” “Yeah. And?” The two of them went silent. Monroe stared at his guest filled with curiosity and surprise. (Y/n) turned her head away out of embarrassment. When she turned back she looked at the floor.

After a few seconds of debating she shyly looked back at the older man in front of her. “Can I...? Can I... maybe see you do that again?” “You sure?” “Yeah.” “Okay... uhm... remember this is just me and that I would never hurt you.” He took a deep breath and nervously muttered a ‘here goes nothing’ under his breath.

Then he woged.

At first (Y/n) moved back a little in surprise but then a big warm and friendly smile made its way onto her face. Leaning forward she carefully put her hand on Monroe’s furry cheek and quietly whispered: “You’re beautiful.” Without noticing the Blutbad turned back. His eyes were starting to water in appreciation. The two of them were only a few inches apart from each other. Their eyes were locked into each other. Monroe carefully put his big hand onto (Y/n)’s soft cheek making her lean downwards towards him. In seconds their lips were upon each other. At first the kiss was shy and gentle but it grew more and more passionate.

That night panting and howling was to be heard from the Blutbad’s house but not because of his true nature as a Wesen (if you know what I mean ;) ). And they lived happily ever after.

The End

#monroe x reader #monroe #grimm monroe #grimm #grimm fanfiction #grimm imagine #x reader #x you #reader insert #fanfiction #imagine #nick burkhardt

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archived-antolcgias · 5 years ago

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💞 queynold !

FIVE WAYS TO SAY “I LOVE YOU”

ONE

❛❛ I want to love you. ❜❜ When she looks up, eyes startled and wide, from where she’s been tempted to pet Queenie, he’s standing. The dark is turning to morning by then. They’ve spent another few hours talking. The world continues to work and move around them. He regards her with dark circles under his eyes --- content crinkles lining their edges. Calls to the dobermann, who takes to his heels without regard for the vigilante, and begins the long walk back home, ❛❛ For as long as you’ll let me. ❜❜

TWO

❛❛ Hey. ❜❜ It’s been a while.

More than a few nights. He stood there, once or twice under rain and without Queenie, watching the waters in the river churn under the glow of the city on the other side. He’s stubborn ... never found a reason not to be --- but he wears his heart on his sleeve. Finds the best way to read it there. Face struggles to contain the relief when she sits down at the bench. Her face unreadable. A twitch at her lips when he says, ❛❛ Thought I missed you tonight. ❜❜

THREE

❛❛ ... tell her I’m sick. It is flu season. ❜❜

Their eyes meet. He coughs -- a weak burst of air that wouldn’t startle a fly. She slaps his shoulder, teeth biting into the pad of her thumb, but looks down at her phone. Sighs, half-relieved and half-hesitant, fingers working over a haphazard excuse to drop dinner with Frannie.

FOUR

❛❛ It seemed ... appropriate, and ... it’s one gift. ❜❜ He leans back against the eggshell sofa in the singular space that makes up the entirety of her apartment. Watches as her eyebrows come together and fingers linger over the edges of the hardcover. They lift, minutely, over the bumping lettering and design on the spine. They stop when her face lifts and he frowns at the shine there ... a glistening the belies the tears held back. Stills his hand when it reaches out, held in the air, as her quivering mouth inspires hesitation. When her smile breaks through -- with a startled laugh -- he swipes the tears from her cheek. Mirrors the smile with his own ... stretching against reddening cheeks. ❛❛ Happy Birthday, Quinn. ❜❜

FIVE

❛❛ Are you still proud of her? ❜❜

Juliette always asks. Months might be spent between the question, and years spanned before it came up during her college tours. She stands a young woman, with eyes bright and blue, and a face that both haunts and invites. The ghost of a person residing in the beautiful life of their child. He’s done his part to let her mother’s presence be known in life --- to communicate the intensity of her ideals. Strength of character. Wholeness of faults and failings.

He’s sitting on the grass in front of her tombstone. Smile on his face, and dark circles under his eyes --- happy crinkle at their edges. Thinks about her, and feels ok --- even through the pain. It’s why he can always answer with such ease. ❛❛ Oh, always. ❜❜

#one through four is soulmates #and the last one is Superduo #fabreai

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tangyyyy · 6 years ago

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Hehehe, you bet your ass I’m going to ask! 😉😉 number 6 - is there a reason why you’re naked in my bed? (Or something like that). If you feel up to it of course ^^

I changed this sentence a bit but... This is the same idea I guess ! :D

Eliott's mother had decided, in a rather improvised way, to take her son doing some grocery shopping. Concerned about his food balance, she couldn't stand to see him eating his strange mixtures of flavors all day long. Mother and son went up the stairs, their arms loaded with shopping bags from the organic store. In the apartment, Eliott and she put everything on the table of the small kitchen. "Honey, don't you have any pair of scissors? -What fort? -To remove the packaging of ewe's milk yogurts. -Don't worry, put them like that in the fridge. -Eliott... -Ok, ok... » Living alone for months, the young man had almost forgotten how a fussy person his mother was. Searching in each drawer one by one, he couldn't find any pair of scissors. Suddenly he recalled that he kept one in his room for his plastic arts homeworks. "I'll get you one...” Eliott came out of the kitchen, letting his mother unpack the rest of their purchases and pushed the door to his room. On the bed, he saw, surprised, a form of unknown origin. The young man didn't remember having left a pile of clothes in his bed... With cautious step and frowning eyebrows, Eliott slowly walked to the bed, grabbed the blanket and pulled it vigorously towards him. Lying on the white sheet, Lucas was totally naked, jaw tight and eyes closed, he had put his hands against his crotch, covering his naked dick. The young man opened an eye and, seeing Eliott, sighed deeply and put his hands on his blushed cheeks. "Oh wow... Thanks God, it's only you!” He murmured, looking visibly relieved. "What the fuck are you doing naked in my bed ?!” Eliott said in a low voice, his thoughts too focused on his surprise to enjoy the nakedness of the young man there, right under his eyes.

"Oh... it's a long story ..." Lucas breathed. "Eli, what are you doing ?!” The voice of Eliott's mother was heard from the kitchen. "I'm coming ma '!” Replied the young man, turning his head towards the door of the room. Then, turning again to Lucas, he lowered his voice. "Make it short. -Ok... I was with Yann, we were watching a... A film with some hot guys and...

-You're watching porn with Yann ?

-No ! Well... Not anymore. Anyway ! I got slightly... You know... Horny. And... I know we planned a date tonight but I didn't want to wait. » Eliott rolled his eyes to the ceiling, unable to stop a smirk on his lips. Lucas sat down on the bed and pulled the blanket over his legs, partially hiding his naked body.

“I thought you would be at home but when I went there, you... Well, you were outside. I came in because... Hey, spare key !” Lucas said in a still very low voice but with big shiny proud eyes. Few days ago Eliott had offered him the double of the keys of his apartment, and that still filled his heart with huge happiness. “And then... Well, that's awkward.

-Tell me.

-I got rid of my clothes and I waited for you in the living room.

-What the fuck, Lucas...

-But when I heard the door openning and that you weren't alone, I ran into your room and... Here I am !” The young man finished to explain, his cheeks reddened by shame. Eliott, despite the absurdity of the situation, smiled. There was no doubt, he would have loved to find Lucas completely naked in the middle of his living room. But there was his mother and she didn't intend to leave any time soon...

“Wait, that means that your clothes are...

-On the ground in the living room, yeah...

-Ok, I'll go grab them then you'll have to leave.

-I guess it's not the right time to meet your mom ?

-Naked, even as sexy and beautiful as you are ? No, I guess it's n...”

Mrs Demaury's voice approaching the room's door interrupted her son.

“Must be such a mess in this room for you to be unable to find a simple pair of scissors...”

Lucas's eyes widened and Eliott's body tensed. "Oh fuck ..." the young man whispered, grabbing the scissors in a hurry and rushing to the outside of the room. He found himself face to face with his mother who was about to open the door. The young man abruptly closed it and brandished the pair of scissors in front of Mrs. Demaury's face. "Tadam! Found them!” He exclaimed in a too cheerful voice in an ecstatic smile. The woman frowned and stared at his son's face with sceptical eyes. "Eliott, should I be afraid to find your room upside down like when you lived at home?

--No, no, I swear, my room is perfectly tidy ! It's just that I forgot that I put the scissors in my bag...

-Mmh...” Replied his mother, unconvinced.

“Come on, let's finish unpacking things we... You brought.” Eliott said, gently grabbing Mrs Demaury's shoulders and guiding her to the kitchen. As he passed through the living room, he glanced at the floor and was surprised to see no clothes on it. "I put your clothes in the wash. I'm sure you would have let them there for days...” His mother said as she walked back to the kitchen. "Ah, yeah... Thanks mom.” Eliott answered, feeling his cheeks blushing. So... His own mother had taken care of his boyfriend's dirty underpants, thinking they were his? This is an embarrassing situation that he would have preferred to avoid... Back in the kitchen, Mrs. Demaury went back to work. Distractedly, Eliott did the same before speaking again.

“Ah... I forgot something, I'll be right back...” He said hurriedly, heading back to his room. Once inside, he rushed to his closet.

“Ok, you have to take some of my clothes, my mother took yours and put them in the wash.” He whispered to Lucas. The latter, still completely naked on the bed, watched him as he bit his lips.

“Well... That is awkward.

-Don't worry, she thought they were mine.” Eliott answered by throwing towards him new underwears, a loose jog and a black shirt.

“No but... You know, I was very turned on and... I may have produced a bit of precum in that boxers...” Lucas whispered as he grabbed the clothes.

“Oh God, shut up...” Eliott groaned, putting a hand on his own forehead. “Now, get dressed quickly and text me when you ready to leave, I'll get all my mom's focus and you'll get off the apartment.” Eliott said, walking towards the living room.

“Ok but... Hey. Are we still on a date tonight?” Lucas asked, his big blue eyes staring into Eliott's.

“You bet we are...” The latter whispered, smiling and turning around to get closer to his boyfriend. “And this time, I'll be the one who'll wait naked...” He put his lips on his. “Now, for fuck sakes, hurry up and leave !”

“Silly me! I had forget my phone in my room, ahah !” Eliott exclaimed as he joined his mother in the kitchen.

“No doupt, you're a 21th century's child, unable to spend ten minutes without your phone...”

Eliott simply shrugged. Mother and son kept putting their purchases in different cupboards and drawers of the kitchen when Eliott felt his phone vibrate against his thigh.

From Lucas : Ok, ready !

Unable to resist the urge to joke a bit, Eliott answered him.

From Eliott : Good. Now, come out of the closet. I mean... my room.

Not wasting more time, the young man put the package of flour that he held in his hand and put his hand on his mother's forearm.

“Mom, I... There's something I want to talk to you about...” He said, overplaying shyness, discreetly positioning Mrs. Demaury back to the living room so she was facing his son taller than her by several centimeters.

“What is it Honey ?” She asked suddenly worried by the serious look of the young man.

“I... I wanted to say thank you.

-For... For what ?

-Well... You know... For... For the grocery shopping and the... Well... For everything you and dad do for me. It... It means a lot and...” God, that was harder than he had thought at first. “I wouldn't be the same man without you and...”

Out of the corner of his eye, the young man glimpsed Lucas sneaking through the living room towards the front door with soft footsteps.

“Eli, are you sure you're okay ?” His mother asked, moving her head slightly.

“Yes ! Yes, I feel good, more thand good actually. And it's because of you. You're the best mom ever and I'm so lucky to have you. And dad. And Juliette too. Yeah, I'm so happy because of you guys and...” Judging that his boyfriend should be out now, Eliott's body relaxed. “Well that's all. That's what I wanted to say.”

As if nothing had happened, he moved away from his mother and began to tidy up the kitchen. Mrs Demaury raised her eyebrows. It wasn't in the young man's habits to indulge in such important speeches, but after all, it was pretty nice... She smiled and ran a hand through Eliott's hair, ruffling them.

“I love you too Honey... Now, do you want me to teach you my famous recipe of the perfect spring salad ?

-Uh... Yeah, yeah I'd love that.”

While his mother spent long minutes explaining to him how to properly wash a salad bought at the market, Eliott's thoughts flew away... More than anything, he couldn't wait for the evening to come, Lucas would remember their date for a long time. Very long time...

#Skam France #tumblingdownthehills #A bit fluffy #fun #I love sneacky Lucas #ELU

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atmilliways · 6 years ago

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((fic)) Hello, How Are You

One devastating turn deserves another, so this fic is brought to you by @calliopinot‘s Noon On A Tuesday (which you have to read in order for this to make the right amount of sense), plus these headcanons and also this one (thanks @spaceviking), and Hello by Adele but with a nicer ending.

Oh, and an all day wine and food event with 40 participating wineries. Don’t worry, I only made it to 8. That’s not even my record, and I actually remember the end of the day. That’s a serious accomplishment in Zinfandel country.

Anyway, the end of this fic is sappy as hell and I’m not sorry at all about that.

Hello, How Are You

It had taken him years to come here because, really, he wasn’t a dumb kid anymore. With time and therapy, he’d outgrown the idea that his love and existence was so flawed that it destroyed anyone he cared for.

Ironically, he now stood on the doorstep of the man who had first made him believe that, simply by being the first to be left standing.

Toki checked the paper in his hand for probably the tenth time, wondering if he had misread Pickles’ messy scrawl — the house was just so ordinary. He had lived this way himself for decades now, of course, but somehow hadn’t expected it in connection with today, with the man he was hoping to see. It was only one story and modestly sized, with a bay window looking into a sparse but cozy living room. The yard was filled with ornamental grasses instead of a classic lawn and had a winding stone path through blooming roses and perennials. Real colors, when he tended to remember the place’s owner exclusively in grayscale and blond, as so much of their life had been back then. A part of him regretted ringing the doorbell as soon as he did it, but the sound of guitar arpeggios echoing through the house made the corner of his mouth twitch.

Little touches, like that and the miniature wolf statue peering watchfully out from amidst the bushes by the door, assured him yes, Skwisgaar did live here.

As Toki waited for someone to come to the door, absently twisting the wedding band he still wore, he heard the thumps and whines of various dogs jostling around inside. A muffled voice scolded them briefly and then the door swung open to reveal the same Skwisgaar that he remembered, black shirt and faded jeans and all, except for the silver at his temples and the lines that had crept into his face around the eyes.

“Oh. Uh,” Skwisgaar said, staring.

That was as far as he got before three huskies swarmed out from behind his legs. They milled around Toki’s legs, nosing at his hands and crotch inquisitively — so unruly compared to the golden lab mixes Abby’d had over the years, but those had all been well-trained service dogs. At least no one was trying to jump up and lick his face.

“Nej, gets back heres you dumb goofballs...” Skwisgaar shooed the dogs back inside before shooting him a look that was both sheepish and curious. “Sorry. They gets, uh, pretty exciteds when people comes by. Don’t gets a lot of visitors here, you knows.”

“Yeah, it was kind of hard to find.” His mouth felt so dry. Why was his mouth so dry? He also felt unaccountably stupid showing up in a button down shirt and khakis like this was some sort of job interview or something. Toki rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, wondering if this was how Skwisgaar had felt during that one visit years ago, so... thrown, by memories versus reality.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment until Skwisgaar cleared his throat, still trying to hold back the tide of dogs. “So, you wants to come ins or something? I could meet you arounds on the back porch if you don’ts want to deals with these dildoes.”

“Oh, it’s fines,” Toki said, then felt his face redden at the slip. All those years of Leah helping him with his English, the kids playfully teasing and correcting him on the occasional misplaced a plural or mispronunciation, apparently didn’t hold up to facing this fragment of his past. “I mean, I don’t mind dogs, as long as they don’t try to hump my leg or anything.”

“That... Well.” Skwisgaar shuffled backwards, grabbing onto the collar of one of the huskies. “I just puts him in the music room for yous. The others am okays, come on ins.”

Toki followed him inside, pulling the door shut behind himself and looking around. The entryway was fairly bare, just white walls and dark wood floors, about what he would have expected. “So you still play? I wasn’t sure, after you stopped doing that masterclass thing.”

“Oh, you watched that?” Skwisgaar called back distractedly from deeper inside the house.

“Luke did, when he was learning guitar.” Toki couldn’t help smiling a little, with no one there to see. “He got into metal for a while after he saw some pictures of me from the old days. I think it was the long hair. He never did want to cut his short.”

There was the sound of a door slamming, and then the lanky blond reappeared with the remaining two dogs crowding at his heels. “Wasn’ts all you had was girls, last time I heards?”

“Oh... Sorry, I forgot you wouldn’t know.” Toki shrugged. “He changed his name from Leah Jr. to Luke before college. It’s not a big deal. The hormone therapy is going really well, he’s starting to grow a beard now. It’s coming in the way mine did though, remember that time I tried growing it out? And it came in all patchy? I told him he might be better off with just a mustache, but who knows if he’ll listen to me, I’m just his dad or whatevers.”

It occurred to him that he was rambling and that Skwisgaar was giving him a weird look — not one of the looks that meant Toki would have to punch him in the face in defense of his son, just one that wanted to point out they hadn’t spoken in almost fifteen years but, like, didn’t at the same time. It was an unexpectedly hopeful look, shuttered away after an instant as though it hadn’t been meant to be seen, and the implications tugged unpleasantly on Toki's insides. His mouth snapped shut and he followed the other man down the hall into a spacious and, again, mostly white living room. He could see a river winding past through the sliding glass door on the other side of the room. It was nice.

“Have a seats, huuueeeeuuugghhhh, anywheres,” Skwisgaar said into the awkward silence, gesturing to the white couch. Or, the mostly white couch with a liberal dusting of husky hair on it, even in places where Toki wouldn’t have thought a dog that size could or would climb. It was probably also the reason there weren’t any of the plush fur throw rugs Toki remembered him preferring. “You want some coffee or anythings?”

“No, I’m fine thanks.”

“Okay. Uhhhhh... Anyways, ja, I plays,” he continued while Toki made himself comfortable. “Don’t really does much with its now, but sometimes Nathan wants a thing written for ones of those shows he ams working ons, he gives me a calls, Charles sends the checks in the mails, all thats. But it ams, you knows. A goods hobby.” Once his guest sat down in a tall but well-padded easy chair, he took the couch and immediately had two dogs happily vying for control of his lap. “What abouts you?”

Toki looked down at his hands. “I still play sometimes. More since the kids all left home, but less than... since Leah.”

Skwisgaar sighed. “I heards about that. Thoughts about going to pays my respects, but...” He gave a pained grimace that was, maybe, intended to be an apologetic smile. “Didn’ts really knows her, and Pickle tolds me it was probablies not the best ideas.”

“Oh,” Toki said blankly. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Pickles had never mentioned Skwisgaar wanting to come to the funeral. But would he have remembered if he had? That had been, to put it mildly, a bad time. Juggling all the funeral arrangements, hospital bills, and suddenly being a single parent to a teenager and two preteens — it had been a lot. He’d barely kept it together for the first few years, and still felt bad that Juliette had taken it upon herself to help look after her siblings and grown up so much so quickly.

“...You lets your hair grows out somes,” Skwisgaar blurted out.

“I did,” Toki agreed, grateful for the change of subject. He swished his fingers through it, a fall of brown that came down to around his chin, just like when they’d first met. “Two girls and a gender fluid kid in the house, we used to have some wild hairdo parties, let me tell you.” He laughed. Kind of forced, but close enough to real. “And it worked out. Juliette is doing really well in cosmetology school.”

“That’s greats, Toki.”

The smile on Toki’s face was a brittle one. He was proud of his kids — hell, proud of himself for producing three non-fucked up human beings, considering his own bleak childhood, homeless adolescence, and raucous early adulthood. Things really had turned out for the best.

Mostly. Because while he’d had a loving, supportive partner to help lay the groundwork for his wonderfully normal new life, it hadn’t turned anything like what he’d imagined. She’d died and he’d found out that there were even worse things than having his heart broken, like having to decide whether to keep all of her old things around as a constant, heart-stabbing reminder or carrying overflowing boxes out to the curb past his crying children, pleading to hold onto the memories of their mother. Impossible choices.

The conversation had hit another lull, both of them just looking at each other over a canyon of decades.

“So,” Skwisgaar said awkwardly, “why... ams you decided to visit todays? Nots that I minds the companies,” he added quickly, unwilling to drop the strained pretense of gracious host. Clearly he didn’t want to be as blunt as Toki had been when he’d visited, all those years ago. No attempt had been made to flaunt his carefree, unattached lifestyle out here in the countryside, with no neighbors for miles and no real obligations to speak of save for occasional songwriting favors. He hadn’t gone for the jugular with, to name an example completely at random, a #1 Guitarist mug.

Toki’s smile cracked. On the couch, the two dogs raised their heads and looked at him inquisitively, approximately one second before he sucked in a breath like a man afraid of drowning and sank his face into both hands. For a long time he’d been able to keep his old life and live locked up tight, separate from his newly constructed family. He’d stopped discussing it in therapy years ago, long enough that his therapist never thought to bring it up anymore. Long enough that he hadn’t realized the parallels for a long time.

And it all came pouring out a torrent of word vomit that tasted all the more bitter for how long he’d been holding it in. A family of five? The way Leah had died, carving a chunk of his life big enough to leave him broken — what was he supposed to do, let it? And then the kids moving out. Little Abby had been the first to go and the last he had expected to lose so soon, a blow out of nowhere just like Murderface lapsing without warning into a coma. Luke had developed new interests, decided on a far more ambitious musical ambitions than his old man, and gone off to school at a fabulous conservatory half way across the globe, echoing Nathan’s departure for new and interestingly brutal pursuits. Juliette, like Pickles, had stuck around the longest, but now she was finally getting into cosmetology full time and living with her girlfriend, fostering an endless stream of troubled kids that the system had failed because her heart was just that goddamned big. There were visits, and phone calls, and occasionally even meeting up for lunches or dinners, but they had their own separate lives to get back to. Toki had... nothing. Just like after Dethklok.

Nothing but this ghost from his past who, before he realized what was happening, was kneeling in front of his chair and pulling him into a rough hug. Toki let himself be pulled. The dogs crowded around him and licked helpfully at the tears and snot boiling out of him before it could land on Skwisgaar’s shirt, though it caught its fair share of slobber and stray fur instead. Thumps and distressed dog noises from elsewhere in the house suggested that the third had some idea of what he was missing out on and resented being excluded from it, but oh well. Special persons invite club cry-a-thon, no leg humpers allowed.

Because Skwisgaar was crying too. First it registered as a growing dampness on his shoulder. Then Toki realized that the other man’s hands were gripped onto his shirt in big handfuls, and what had seemed like a comforting rocking motion was the Swede shaking with the effort of keeping his own tears silent and unobtrusive.

“Skwisgaar, what’s…” More alarmed than he would have expected given his own simmering breakdown, Toki managed to disentangle himself enough to pull back and get a look at his face. There was no hope of passing it off as ‘just gettings high’ today — not that it had ever been very effective ruse, Skwisgaar was an ugly crier and always had been. “What’s wrong?”

“Because,” came the choked up reply. “You saids you was happy. I s-stayed aways because you was happy. You didn'ts…” Skwisgaar was squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to not totally lose it, but his grip was clearly slipping. “You didn’ts deserve for it to all falls so much to shits that you comes to see me."

“Oh…” Toki slid to the floor as though his bones had been removed and replaced with cooked spaghetti, because that was exactly it. Skwisgaar had dumped him and it had been devastating, but he’d reinvented himself, met a girl, made a new life for himself without him.

It had taken so long to decide to come here precisely because he had been happy. Ecstatically so, and in the new life he’d made, even after Leah, there had been no room for Skwisgaar in it. But to see that Skwisgaar had known that — hell, actually respected that enough to leave him be for all these years — made him realize.

“Skwisgaar,” Toki said, sniffling and reaching to smooth some of the other man’s tears away. Skwisgaar startled at the touch, blue eyes flying open.

“Whats?”

“I don’t regrets anything about my family,” Toki told him earnestly, “but it was always supposed to be you.” And kissed him.

They were both still crying so it was wet and clumsy and messy, but their lips fit together just as perfectly as Toki remembered. Sure, he’d repressed that memory for a long time, but he’d had to.

For so long they’d been spun around in a dance of wanting different things, never on the same page, perfectly compatible but just off somehow. Then there had been Leah and it had felt impossible to reconcile those dual loves, so Toki had always told himself that his first choice had never been right or good for him. And maybe that instinct had been spot on, maybe Skwisgaar back then had been all wrong, a pentagonal peg that Toki had desperately fit into a round hole — but things had changed. So much was different now, about both of them. Here in this modest house, sitting on the floor with dogs trying their best to cheer up two idiot humans with even more slobbery kisses than the one they were currently sharing with amazed enthusiasm, they fit together in ways that was far more than just physical. It finally felt like they were on the same page, older and wiser but still head over fucking heels for each other.

A third furry body crashed into them and Skwisgaar broke away with a cry of, “Fucksdammit Morderface, if you brokes another door you ams sleeping outskied tonights I swear to fucking Odin!”

Toki laughed and rubbed his face on his sleeve and stood, despite the (pudgier, more blunt-nosed) husky immediately going for his leg as he did so, offering Skwisgaar a hand up that he accepted without hesitation. “You named him Murderface?”

“Ja,” Skwisgaar said sheepishly. He didn’t let go of Toki’s hand once he was up, instead threading their fingers together. “Uh, ands the other two ams Nathan and Pickles. Makes me feel less, eughhh, lonely out heres, you knows.”

“Huh.” Toki looked down at their entwined fingers. Smiled. Squeezed. “Just those three?”

“There ams only one Toki Wartooth,” Skwisgaar told him seriously, then pulled him into another kiss that lasted much, much longer.

#metalocalypse #my fanfic #my fanfiction #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #postklok #idiots in midlife crisis love #skwistok

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juliettegellcr · 6 years ago

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be still my foolish heart // -- @petermurrayy

“Meet me tonight at the end of my street around six o’ clock and we can just drive somewhere -- to study, okay?”

The words she had spoken to Peter Murray that day after school had resurfaced in her mind amidst the frustration and annoyance that she felt. They had stayed a constant thought throughout the afternoon and well into the evening, along with the look that he had given her after she gave into his incessant demands. Juliette used them as a mantra, a motivational source, as she attempted to stay on her best behavior. Offering to help her mother prepare dinner, setting the table so Mike didn’t have to come up from the basement and leave his precious board game. Hell, she had even offered to babysit Holly on the one afternoon that she had off that week. Juliette was sure that her mother would agree to let her go out for a study group, and she sat there with a smug smile after relaying who would be there, ‘Mostly friends,’ (which wasn’t a complete lie,) when she was met with the final answer, ‘No,’ and that was it. Her mother said that it was too late to go out and how would she get home, and the questions only grew worse when Mike decided to blab about Peter being her study partner, her only study partner, making sure his fingers came up to throw air quotes around the word ‘study.’ Juliette didn’t bother to stay. She had no interest in feigning interest in the lecture her parents would inevitably give her for lying and whatever else. Instead she chose to get up from the table and run to her bedroom, hiding away with reddening cheeks and a fire that had been ignited within her chest.

Her parents knew that she had a boyfriend, and they liked Peter, but she knew what thoughts came to their mind the second Mike opened his mouth and mentioned his name. Juliette’s cheeks grew a deeper shade of red, but for different reasons this time around. The two had only been dating for a year and a few months give or take. She knew of Peter, rumors and stories that were spread around school, but she was never one to believe in anything that she couldn’t see for herself and Peter was an example as to why. When they had originally met last summer at the local pool, Juliette was wary of him and not sure what exactly it was that he wanted from her, but over time she was shown a different side of him. A side that attended church regularly, enjoyed spending time with her little siblings even when they acted bratty over something silly, and one that didn’t mind holding her until she fell asleep after watching a movie that was too scary. Somewhere along the road of becoming friends, she had fallen for him. Juliette remembers the night that she told him how she felt, or showed him rather. It had been the night after her last recital of the season, and Peter had offered to give her a ride home to give her a small break from listening to her parents bicker and Mike’s unnecessary attitude. They were sitting in the driveway, talking to each other as they usually did, but Juliette had been quiet. Her mind was overwhelmed with what decision to make, and every time she looked over to Peter, watching how his face lit up with every word that slipped out of his mouth, she felt herself falling harder and harder. Her mind had been made up and seconds later, Juliette leaned over and kissed him. It wasn’t a long kiss or a relatively deep kiss, but it was something to show how she felt towards him. And from that moment on, things had changed between them. No longer just friends, but more.

Despite her terrible mood, Juliette couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her face at the memories that surfaced in her mind. Images of attending the yearly carnival together, sitting around the bonfire in the woods of Derry telling ghost stories, and dinner dates at the diner in the next town over. It was exciting, and fun. Peter made life in Derry more interesting, and right now it was as boring as it could possibly get. Groaning, Juliette threw herself down onto her bed, yanking a pillow towards her chest and wrapped her arms around it with a tight grip. She knew that she should have asked earlier to go out, but Mike could have also kept his mouth shut about what was going on. And if she knew Peter, he was most likely waiting for her at the end of her street and wondering where the hell she was. A glance towards the clock that resided on her nightstand read ‘8:04.’ The blue letters flashed at her tauntingly, and it did nothing to help her foul mood and the annoyance she felt towards her family. There was no way to reach Peter, and now she would have to study alone and hope for the best when it came time for the Math exam at the end of the week. The realization had Juliette releasing an angry, frustrated scream into the fabric of her pillow, voice becoming muffled by its ruffled case. The thought of returning downstairs to beg her mother to let her go out or to let Peter come by for an hour, to study, crossed her mind, but when her parents decided on something it was set in stone. After they had found about Peter, as much as they liked him, they were reluctant about letting them spend any time together alone. Any mention of moving upstairs to her room was met with the rule about open door policies and now that hang out nights had become date nights there was a sudden curfew that she needed to abide by. With a sigh, the brunette flung her pillow off onto the floor and pushed herself up off of the bed and moved around to collect what she needed for her solo study session.

Juliette had settled in at her desk, notecards and papers spread out across the table top, and she still couldn’t focus on anything but the panic that had rooted itself within her stomach, vines twining themselves along the walls of her body and spreading upwards. She looked over her shoulder to her clock once again and it was now eight-thirty-four. The numbers that flashed back to her did nothing to help her concerns over Peter. Juliette’s eyes roamed over to the window above her bedside table, taking in the darkening sky and the charcoal colored clouds that had rolled in across the horizon, threats of a storm moving in. The ache in her chest grew deeper, guilt bubbling up as she stared out of the window. Her eyebrows furrowed, a noise at her window taking her out of her thoughts. Juliette looked towards the window and she felt her cheeks warming at the image that greeted her. Peter kneeling on the roofing below the window, his usual tight curls falling to frame his face in loose ringlets, annoyance clear on his face. The brunette got up from her chair and quickly padded over to the window then pushed it up, allowing Peter to climb in before sliding it shut. “I know, okay? I.. I tried telling my mom that I was meeting up with a group of people, but Mike decided to be honest for once in his life,” She admitted, looking up to him with a sheepish shrug, the color of her cheeks deepening. “Are you mad at me? If it helps.. I haven’t been able to get any studying done without you,” Juliette plopped down onto her bed and smoothed out her skirt along her legs, gazing at him with an expression of fondness, “I really am sorry for not trying to.. get in contact with you. I kind of.. stormed out at dinner so I’ve been stuck up here. At least my parents don’t know you’re here so we can actually have private conversations again,” She mused with a small smile, turning her attention towards her hands as they sat on her lap. “And you can actually stay for a while.. maybe, the whole night? We could sneak you out early before Mike or my parents wake up.”

#˙ ˖ ✶ sweet talk with a hint of honey | j.g threads.

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thebaileymail · 6 years ago

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Introduction: Jamie Goldenhearth

full name. James Eugene goldenhearth

nicknames. Jamie, Jay, Jay-jay.

height. 5′6”

age. 21

zodiac. Taurus

Languages. common.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour. Raven black.

eye colour. Emerald green.

skin tone. Tanned.

body type. Although difficult to tell beneath the layers of expensive fabrics Jamie opts to wear, the muscles upon his lithe form are well-defined.

accent. Refined. Growing up in a nigh-regal household, one could easily tell Jamie comes from a family that has been well off.

dominant hand. Ambidextrous.

posture. Poised, elegant and practiced.

scars. A singular scar runs down the left side of Jamie’s face, quite noticeably. Although for certain events he may veil it with a layer of cosmetics.

tattoos. Upon the back of his hands a set of intricate geometrical sigils can be seen, sometimes reddened and slightly infected. Another tattoo is tucked away on the inside of Jamie’s left wrist, of a guitar plectrum with inside it written in calligraphy RAC.

most noticeable features. A scar running down the left side of Jamie’s face. He almost always wears a kind, practiced smile when talking to strangers, and he appears to be incredibly keen to talk to all those around him.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. Goldenhearth Isle; their family island within the Stait of Merlthor.

hometown. Ul’dah.

birth weight / height. Average

manner of birth. Unremarkable.

first words. Jenny

siblings. A twin sister (Juliette Anastasia Goldenhearth) And younger brother (Peter Elliott Goldenhearth)

parents. Deceased father (Adam Walcott Goldenhearth), mother (Sharon Jacqueline Astor-Goldenhearth)

parental involvement. Jamie and his siblings were all brought up with little privacy afforded from their parents. Their mother holds a great deal of respect for them, and often sways Jamie’s opinions.

ADULT LIFE

occupation. Entrepreneur, business owner, investor.

close friends. Vila, Rhyan, Anna. Although he befriends nearly all he comes in contact with, he doesn’t consider a great many his close friends. Moreover, he lost a good deal of contacts after ending his employment at Metaphysick.

relationship status. Taken.

financial status. Jamie doesn’t own a great deal of raw gil himself; most of it is invested into his business, or future business endeavors. Although compared to the average Eorzean, he is still wealthy.

driver’s license. He drove a Regalia twice. If only someone would buy one with him.

criminal record. None

vices. Greed, desiring too much wealth.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. Homosexual

romantic orientation. Homoromantic (monogamous)

preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch | unsure

preferred sexual role. submissive | dominant | switch | sex repulsed | unsure

libido Jamie has a strong libido.

turn on’s. Loss of control in the bedroom, a strong partner, anarchy, humour.

turn off’s. Bashfulness, greed, incompetence, submissiveness.

love language. Jamie seeks to excessively touch those that he loves, and wants to provide all that he is able. He takes a great deal of pleasure in taking care of those he cares about, and being the first person to be called when something is amiss. Moreover, being Ul’dahn in nature, he takes a great deal of comfort in receiving gifts and being surprised.

relationship tendencies. Jamie can be somewhat manipulative in getting what he wants. Although outwardly he might seem the more submissive type in his relationship, he still manages to get his way almost whenever he wants. He is inordinately picky with those he fancies physically, and even pickier with those he would start a relationship with.

MISCELLANEOUS.

hobbies to pass the time. Talking to strangers, reading, painting, drawing, people-watching, researching.

mental illnesses. PTSD

physical illnesses. None.

fears. Death, the open sea, loss of control, being touched.

self confidence level. Jamie quite easily veils his insecurities with honeyed words and a kind smile.

vulnerabilities. Jamie is dependant on a great deal of people. He has very little combat prowess, requires people to talk to for his mental health, needs regular check-ups from healers, makes his money through other people. Strip away those around him, and he is left with nothing.

Tagged by: @poor-rhyan

Tagging: @truth-of-the-warden @passage-of-arms @foxracinggurl @twin-moons-ffxiv @morpho-whispers @kikilukilu @archmagesarto @thegildenheart @grumpy-limsan-customs-cat @vexredain @falanyr @sharlayan-duelist @missmeela @rakuza

#xiv #balmung #rpprompts #Jamie Goldenhearth

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doeeyeddarlingxo · 5 years ago

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Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 27

The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training - Chapter 27

AO3 | Previous | Next

Word Count: 1222

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Rating: T

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 27

For the first time in over a year, you feel a chill in the air.

Surprisingly enough, this isn’t because of any tensions or animosity between contestants (though heaven knows there’s been enough of that - nothing extreme, just small, petty squabbles), but as...a present.

You think.

It started with a scarf. Seven scarves, technically. You woke up one morning to find Meg bringing you a gift box, long and slim and delicately wrapped in gold foil, tied with a length of green ribbon.

Huh?

“From the king, Lady - I mean (Y/N).” She smiled shyly, and you felt a quiet joy bubble up at the correction. She’s been trying to use your name, sans title, ever since you “rescued” her (her words, not yours) from the Chitauri, and it seems to give her a small bit of confidence. (In public, she continues to call you by the title, which you interpret as her not wanting to be reprimanded - a sentiment she later confirms when you ask her in private. You can’t disagree with that.)

You accepted the gift, and tugged on one end of the bow. Under the box, beneath a layer of (yes, green) tissue paper, was a (yes, green) scarf.

I would be honored if you would wear this to breakfast this morning.

~ L. L.

You didn’t really think much of it. It was thin and silky, nothing too heavy for this weather. Coming down to the dining room, you saw the other six girls each had one as well, tied around their neck, or used to pull back their hair, or knotted to the waist of their dress, each one with a slightly different pattern and in a different shade of green.

It wasn’t until Li let out a tiny gasp that the rest of you began to suspect something bigger was going on.

“Wha’s wron?” asked Irina through a mouthful of omelet, ignoring a glare from Lady Amara.

Li handed her the envelope in response, seemingly too stunned to speak. Irina began to read it out loud.

“I am writing to request your company for a walk of the grounds tomorrow at noon.” She passes the letter back, looking mildly impressed. “A date, huh?”

And Li wasn’t the last. As the day went on, the remainder of the girls received similar invitations, at lunch or directly after lessons or slipped under their bedroom doors.

Except you.

You weren’t surprised. Or offended. Or upset by this in any way, shape, or form. Except...you kinda were? Like, you get it, you’re still just shy of seventeen - but the be the only one sucked. A lot. Especially after...well, after everything. The ball. The tutoring. The Chitauri. Even if he didn’t want to go on a date with you, persay, you thought he would have been considerate enough to explain why, or at the very least warn you before the invitations came.

Which leaves you here, sitting and pouting on your bed instead of going to sleep. Li’s date was over a month ago - she came down the next morning with shockingly reddened lips. She explained, with a shy kind of glee, that the lipstick was a gift from His Majesty, after she’d told him a story about breaking into her mother’s makeup box as a teen.

The next week was Irina’s meeting. Despite her clear reluctance beforehand, she too came down to the dining hall with more than a little excitement the next day, wearing a riding coat and (much to Lady Amara’s chagrin) pants, of all things.

“I mentioned that I was starting to get tired of riding side-saddle, and when I got back to my room, these were waiting on my bed,” she said. Irina wasn’t the girly type by any means, but even she blushed as the girls oohed over the gift.

And so it went on. Every week, another girl went on a date, and came down the next morning with a smile on her face and a surprisingly thoughtful gift to speak of - a violin for Juliette, a pair of tap shoes for Rosa, a painting for Rhea’s room. Tonight is Sapphy’s turn. She’s the last one, and you’re beginning to wonder what exactly it is that’s wrong with you.

Your initial reaction would be to think he’s mad at you after that outburst about Lexi leaving. But you've spoken since then, in the hallways, in the library - just small pleasantries, but his smiles have been genuine.

So what is it, then?

You’d confront him, but you’re nervous. Much, much too nervous. But you can’t stop wondering what the problem might be - is it my age? Is it how I look? My weight? Does he just think I'm dumb? Is this some kind of sign that I'm the next to go?

You shake your head. This is ridiculous; lying here and feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to do you any good. Maybe some fresh air would help?

You don’t bother getting dressed - why put on a corset or a robe or even slippers when you’ll be back in bed in ten minutes? It’s too hot, anyway. The less layers, the better, and the floors feel delightfully cool beneath your feet.

You pad down the hall, and all five million stairs, as quietly as possible. You doubt anyone else is awake, but you don’t want to risk it, especially as you make your way out into the gardens. You were never given a strict curfew, but you doubt that wandering the grounds in the dead of the night without an escort - barefoot and only wearing a nightgown, no less - wouldn’t exactly endear you to Lady Amara.

“This really is beautiful, Your Majesty.”

Shoot, shoot, shoot… You duck behind the nearest bush, wincing at the noise. Through the brambles, you can see two silhouettes, the (much) shorter one obviously corseted-and-petticoated. Loki’s voice is too low for you to make out his response. Between Sapphy’s pitch and her enthusiasm, though, she’s loud enough that you feel safe adjusting - that branch poking into your side isn’t the most comfortable.

It isn’t quite as bad, though, as when you lose your balance and topple off the balls of your feet in the other direction - directly into a whole host of other branches, all ready to poke into your side even harder than before. You’re still concealed - you think - but your squeak of surprise, combined with the rustling caused by your fall, isn’t exactly discreet. And the sudden lull in the conversation makes you fear that you might have been discovered, after all.

“Lady Sapphire, I have had a lovely evening, but I believe it best that we both retire for the night.” His voice is closer than before, and you tense up. “I have a full day of political meetings tomorrow, and I assume you’ll be equally busy with lessons.”

As she agrees, they continue past you, and you let out a sigh of relief. Once you see the light green flash, you finally do your best to roll out from under the bush without getting yourself scratched up any further. You can’t help but rest on your side for a moment, dirt pathways be damned - until you open your eyes and see a pair of shoes right in front of you.

“Would you like some help?”

#loki #loki x reader #loki/reader #reader insert #reader-insert #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #doeeyeddarling #myriad misadventures #fish fork

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mattijsblog-blog · 6 years ago

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Extra 1: ‘Hart tegen Hard’ van Aurélie Valognes

Afgelopen zomervakantie heb ik mij beziggehouden met het lezen van deze fantastische roman. Hart tegen hard gaat over een oude nare man genaamd Ferdinand Brun. Hij maakt ruzie met iedereen die zijn pad kruist. Het enige levende wezen dat hij om zich heen kan verdragen is zijn hond Daisy.

Maar als Daisy verdwijnt en Ferdinand te horen krijgt dat hij zal moeten verhuizen naar een bejaardentehuis, breekt hij. Het zijn net zijn buren, de 10-jarige flapuit Juliette en de pittige oude dame Beatrice, die hem doen inzien dat het leven een stuk mooier wordt met mensen om je heen. En dat het nooit te laat is om je familie écht te leren kennen.

Dit boek heeft mij doen inzien dat het leven veel mooier kan zijn zonder (familie)ruzies.

Extra 2: The Maze Runner - The Death Cure

Vrijdag 6 april 2018 ben ik in de Kinepolis van Brussel samen met mijn peter The Maze Runner: The Death Cure gaan bekijken. In de epische finale van de Maze Runner saga leidt Thomas (Dylan O' Brien) zijn groep ontsnapte Laarders op hun laatste en gevaarlijkste missie tot nu toe. Om hun vrienden te redden, moeten ze inbreken in de legendarische Laatste Stad. Dit door WCKD gecontroleerde labyrint is misschien wel het meest dodelijke doolhof van allemaal. Iedereen die er levend uitkomt, zal antwoorden krijgen op de vragen die de Laarders hebben sinds ze voor het eerst in het doolhof arriveerden. De regie is wederom in handen van Wes Ball, hij was eerder ook verantwoordelijk voor The Maze Runner (2014) en Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials (2015). Gebaseerd op de bestseller van James Dashner.

Als u deze film gaat bekijken, is het aangeraden de vorige 2 films eerst te bekijken om zo met de verhaallijn mee te zijn. De vriendschap en de loyaliteit die onder druk komt te staan brengt de spanning naar het hoogste niveau. Daarom zal deze film mij altijd bijblijven.

Extra 3: De val - 10 jaar na de crisis

In de zesdelige reeks De val: 10 jaar na de crisis maakt financieel journalist Michaël Van Droogenbroeck de balans op van de financiële crisis van 2008. Hij doet dat aan de hand van getuigenissen van hoofdrolspelers en slachtoffers in binnen- en buitenland. Hij gaat op zoek naar oorzaken en gevolgen, en kijkt ook vooruit: loert er een nieuwe crisis om de hoek?

De financiële crisis in 2008 interesseerde mij. Na het zien van deze mooie, interessante reportage is mijn economisch denkbeeld geëvolueerd. Ik begrijp beter hoe de crisis is begonnen, de gevolgen op korte en lange termijn en de grootste vraag: kan er ooit nog een financiële crisis als deze uitbreken?

5;\

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gereionkingston · 7 years ago

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As Gereion was attempting to enjoy his meal and drink in as much peace as he could manage, a paper zeppelin came from behind him, smacking him square in the back. -Crunch!- Juliette winced at the now destroyed zeppelin.

Gereion exhaled slowly, the last bites of venison had just went down his gullet and all that was left was his potato. He had so little time to eat in silence after training the new recruits and performing the maintenance on his cannons and all he wanted to do was sit in peace.

He slowly stabbed his fork into the spud before standing up, his brown mane matted to his head and neck and his pale skin marked with streaks and splotches of oil and dirt. He reached a reddened hand down to the back of his chair, moving it out of his way as he turned to face the person behind him.

Standing a few feet away, at the doorway to his office he saw her poking her head around the frame, prepared to bolt if needed.

It was rare for him to not have his dinner with her ever since she had been spending more time with him, and even then when they did eat he was in a different mind than when he was on base. Her shoulders sank as those blue eyes stared at her, his hand lifting from it’s idle spot at his side to motion her into the room.

Her feet dragged against the wood as she reluctantly stepped forward into the dim light, her head hanging and her eyes following his every move as he made his way around the desk to her side before slamming the door shut behind her.

She lifted her head slightly as he took position in front of her. His hand moved to her shoulder as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead “I love you very much Juliette, but I only have so much time to relax while I’m on base and during dinner is one sliver of it.” Her expression lit up as she felt his other arm wrap around her waist as the hand that was on her shoulder moved to join it “Allow me to finish my dinner, and I will have all the time you need.”

@juliette-bennas

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raykiirianwarrior-blog · 8 years ago

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Humans Are Weird

(I’m going to call this part 1 because I plan to write more if these posts and I wish to use the same characters, have them sort of link together. So if you like the post, check back for more later!)

(Fandoms, ships, etc.)

Zar'ak didn’t mind the Humans on his ship, they could behave well enough - except for that one male, Tyler, for the most part they did their various duties and treated the crew with respect. Yes they complained from time to time but so far they hadn’t been violent towards the alien members, and they insisted that their violence was all in “good fun” when they fought amongst themselves.

They came from a dangerous wold in the F-Sector and could endure extreme conditions, which made them useful, but also terrifying if he thought about it too hard. Cold wind and heavy snow? No problem, just layer more fabric and fur and they were ready to go. Harsh sun and extreme heat? So long as they had access to water they’d survive, their skin darkened or reddened a bit sometimes, but it didn’t slow them down. They’ve invented a plethora of killing gadgets and machines (none of which were allowed within a hundred meters of the ship), done unthinkable acts to their own species and the other species’ on their planet, but so long as you posed no threat to them or hindered their own personal agendas, they were mostly an agreeable species, he supposed.

If Zar'ak was honest, the thing that bothered him most so far about the Humans was how little he could understand of them. The smallest, most insignificant things could affect them in such large ways, reducing them to small acts of violence, often throwing things they happened to be holding, or breaking down entirely, their eyes leaking. Meanwhile a member of their species could be killed by a Varalian Panther, and if they didn’t know the human well, they usually wouldn’t be anything more than a little upset. Looking at the remains of poor Sophie was more than enough to instil such a fear of the Panther in his heart that he vowed never to set foot o their homeworld again, while the Humans would simply move on. Some even said the Panther was cute.

Zar'ak was constantly, he must admit, spying on the Humans in his crew. He had more than some other ships in the fleet, ten Humans in all. There were four females - Amy, Crystal, Laura and Hannah - and six males - Spencer, Gavin, Ian, Marcus, Jonathan and Tyler, the one the others referred to as “rebelliously difficult.” And he was, Zar'ak would not have missed him if he were to be sent to work for another crew. But here he stayed.

He spent much time following the humans, observing them and keeping notes on what he saw, trying to discern some form of pattern in their behaviour, but he hadn’t been successful thus far, they remained a mystery to him. He hadn’t yet given up though, scared as he was to be caught snooping and eavesdropping, he wasn’t sure such an act would anger the Humans, but he didn’t wish to find out.

Currently he was standing a few feet away from Amy, who appeared to be reading a manual, a weird one, thicker than normal but smaller in width and length. The cover was not at all like a manual, and it had the words “Ignite Me” along the front and spine of the cover. Her face was tense and drawn, as though experiencing some sort of emotional turmoil beyond not being capable of understanding the manual, if that is what it was. He nearly lept out of his scaly skin when she let out a short screech of frustration and slammed the covers closed.

“Human Amy, is something wrong? Your noise sounded distressed, is there something you cannot understand in your manual?” He step forward, not daring to be caught spying when she was in such a state, and instead pretending as though he just happened to show up at that moment.

“ Manual?” She questioned in a calmer voice than her earlier noise had been. “ Oh, you mean the book?” She lifted it slightly, her head tilted to the side.

“Book? What is this book? What does it teach you of?” Zar'ak questioned, preparing to scribble down her explanation.

“Oh, books don’t have to teach you something, some of them are just stories you read for fun.”

“For fun? What is the purpose of reading something that will not educate you?”

“You know, fun. To do something you enjoy for a while? Sometimes you can relate to characters in the stories, that always makes a book better.” She glanced at his hand, which was paused midway through his notes. “Do you guys really not read for fun?”

“To be perfectly honest, Human Amy,” Zar'ak looked down nervously, “I’m not entirely sure what that word means, story. And how it could be enjoyable to read anything that does not further your knowledge of the universe.”

“Oh, okay so you know history books then, right?” At his nod, she continued, “Well stories are kind of like that, events and people and stuff, but none of it is real, none of it has happened or existed.”

“I see…?”

“So we read them for fun, sometimes to distract ourselves, other times to escape into their world.”

“Your story books have portals to other worlds?” He backed a step, unwilling to be near a portal that could release who knows what from who knows where. “That sounds horribly dangerous! Even for your species.” It took Zar'ak by surprise when Amy started laughing, apparently these creatures feared nothing!

“Oh Zar'ak, they aren’t literal worlds, we just read the words on the page and our imagination paints the stories in our head so it’s like being in the world, even though we aren’t.”

“So that screech of distress and/or frustration you made when I found you, did something in your imaginary story world hurt you?”

“No no, I’m just conflicted, I used to ship Juliette and Adam - two of the main characters, but now I kinda want to ship Juliette and Aaron, but she can’t have both and AGH how do I choose?”

“I don’t understand, ships are water or space vehicles, unless you mean to ship the two characters to somewhere else in your imagination?”

“Oh, back home the fandoms use “ship” as another way of saying you want to have those two characters date each other, you know, choose each other as their mate.“

Zar'ak was struggling desperately to keep up with his notes, and none of it made sense. “Fandom?”

“It’s a term we use to describe a fan group of certain books and TV show, or movies. If you are a fan of the book, you’re part of that fandom.”

“I see, I think I understand.” He was nowhere near understanding. “So this failure to ship both, I assume males, with that female character distresses you?”

“Yeah, at first Adam was perfect for her but now I love Aaron so I want Juliette to love him because he needs someone to love him since I can’t.”

Zar'ak paused, looking from his notebook to Amy’s face. “You love a character in a story? An imaginary place that exists only in the book? Despite your statement that none of it is real?”

“Another way of knowing you’re in that fandom, you fall for the characters as if they were real.” She smiled, thinking of her many fictional boyfriends.

“What purpose does it serve? How does your mating drive allow you to fall for this one fake Human?”

“Oh, there’s more than one fake that I love, I’m part of many fandoms. And like reading the books in general, its just something we do, it makes us happy. Sometimes, if the characters we love die, well that always just, Ugh. John Green is horrible for that.”

“ I see,” he mumbled, his brain overloaded with confusion. “ Thank you for your time, Human Amy.” Zar'ak turned and wandered out of the room, more befuddled than before, wondering if there was any hope of getting to understand a species that could read fake history when it gained nothing but “fun” and create populations called fandoms that seemed to revolve around these fake history “stories”. A species that could fall in love with people who never existed.

#humans are weird #space australia #space orcs #aliens #humans #fandom #books #movies #ship #shatter me

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