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buckys-little-belle · 6 months

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Hi!! I love your story’s and am always looking for little and daddy Bucky story’s!! I was wondering if you could do insecure reader who’s bigger. She has bigger thighs a bigger tummy and face. Could you do reader is scared to sit on buckys lap or for him to pick her up and carry her around the house. She’s too scared she’s heavy and will crush him and his legs. or that he will drop her because she’s too big. She also never cuddles and sleeps with him in his room always sleeping in her room after he puts her to bed because she’s scared about her breathing or how she sleeps.

Bucky gets her to tell him why and then comfort. Just fluff fluff fluff. If your not comfortable writing this I totally understand!!! If you do could you ad paci use? Thank you!!! Sorry for the rambling…

Strongest Man Alive

Bucky Barnes x Plus Sized!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Notes - This is not my best work, and has been in my drafts for MONTHS, it's something cute, and a little angsty at the beginning, but it does get super fluffy at the end. It's a little bit different than my usual writting style, so I apologize for that, but I do hope you like it and if not I'm so sorry! I hope I did this ask justice, and I hope everyone is having a good week!!! <3

Warnings - Talks of reader being self conscious for being 'bigger', kept very vague as she uses the words "heavy" and "squishy" to describe her body type instead of more concrete descriptions, the use of a pacifier is very brief as it's something I'm not used to writing, though I would be willing to continue, mentions of reader eating food "snacks" and "sandwich" though never specified, FLUFF at the end, but there is a moment of angst, I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS A COHEARANT STORY, it's from the drafts and I gave it a once over and I think it's 'good enough' so I apologize if it's terrible <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n often spent their time at the Avengers tower sitting, standing, lingering around Bucky Barnes. It wasn't on purpose, the man just seemed to be the other half of some magnet imbedded deep in Y/n's heart. He just had some ability to pull her towards him.

Maybe it was the way he cut her sandwiches into perfect triangles, or the way his hand always found hers when she got scared. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be reserved around anyone but her that made her feel so connected to him.

He never sulked but always seemed to walk around with a frown stuck on his face, only ever changing it to a smile when she walked by his office or stopped by his room.

As much as Y/n felt like she was pulled to him, Bucky felt it multiplied by 100. His hands always aching to hold hers, his chest always feeling heavy when he began to think about her needing something and him not being around to help her.

The whole tower knew about Y/n's regression. Wanda and Peter often joined in, hanging out in little space and colouring in books Tony had provided, watching whatever new animated movie had just come out and sleeping over in makeshift tents in the living room.

Often other Avengers would help supervise activities, Steve loved playing action fighters in the common areas, Nat loved cuddle puddle on the couch, and Thor was always ready for a park day. Bucky on the other hand liked to stay in the shadows, buying stickers for the group of littles, making them lunch and dropping it off.

Bucky only stuck around if Y/n asked him to hang out with her. "Bucky can you hold my hand?" She had asked him when at the park, he of course grabbed her hand and helped her up the jungle gym.

"Bucky can you open this please?" She had whispered during a movie, her baggie full of snacks too difficult to manage on her own. He opened the baggie and held it in his own grasp, handing her a piece of candy anytime she had finished the previous one.

"Bucky will you colour with me?" She had yelled her ask one day when he was passing by the kitchen, Y/n sat at the island with markers scattered across the marble. He silently sat down and diligently coloured the page she had given him, helping her chase markers that had fallen.

He knew she was comfortable asking for what she wanted, and he knew she wasn't afraid of him ... so, it made his chest tighten every time she asked him to grab something from the top shelf instead of asking to be lifted like Wanda and Peter often asked.

He also felt off every time a little would come running out of their room after a nightmare, rushing into someone's room for a cuddle, yet Y/n's door never opened and neither did his.

Bucky was sure it was his fault she didn't seek him out for cuddles, he thought he had done something wrong when she never asked for a hug. Was it his arm? Was she scared he would turn on her? He couldn't figure it out.

That is until he realised she never asked anyone for a cuddle, or a hug. Nat, Wanda, and Peter would be all comfy on the couch and Y/n would be sat on the chair, a small frown on her face yet she never tried to find a spot next to her friends. And when she scraped her knee on the playground she declined Thor's offer of a "healing" hug.

"Y/n?" His voice was quiet but direct as he called out into the playroom, Y/n sat on the softly coloured rug, her stuffed animals scattered about.

"Hi Bucky!" She smiled, her pacifier tumbling out of her mouth and onto the ground.

"Hi." He sat down across from her, quickly pocketing the fallen pacifier before sought out the, now, dirty thing. "What are you playing?" His hands brushed a stuffed teddy, Y/n tilting her head in confusion as she looked around her.

"'m just dressen 'm up." She smiled at him, grabbing a stuffed unicorn and brushing it's fur back into place, shuffling closer to Bucky as she gathered a few other stuffed animals.

The moment her knees hit his she shifted back, so Bucky shifted his towards her again. Like clockwork she moved and left a small gap between them. "Y/n?"

"Mhm." She looked back at him, her smile one he could easily read through.

"Am I scary?" He asked calmly, not once loosing eye contact as she shook her head 'no'. "Do I smell?" He asked, this time with a laugh.

"No!" She giggled.

"Then why do you run every time I touch you." Instead of answering she bowed her head, hands running over the stuffed animal anxiously. "Why don't you hug Wanda or Peter?" He was worried that all the questions would make her want to run, but as she huffed and leaned into his space slightly he continued. "I know Thor was pretty sad when you declined his hug the other day." That one wasn't a lie, the man had gone on a rant about how he thought he had done something wrong, how he was sure Y/n hated him.

"I jus', I don' want them t' be mad." She admitted, huffing at the end of her sentence. "'m jus', 'm heavy, an' squishy. Wanda and Pete aren't heavy an' squishy." She admitted, eyes locked on the wall, the stuffed unicorn held a little closer to her body.

"What do you mean Baby?" Bucky asked, confused as to what she was alluding to.

"It's harder t' pick me up." She finally looked back at him, tears beginning to gather along her waterline. "And cuddling wif me wouldn' be th' same." She shrugged, trying to play it off like she wasn't bothered by her own words.

The tightness in Bucky's chest didn't ease up with his answer, his worry only growing. He had hoped it was an easy thing to fix, yet knowing Y/n didn't hug her friends, or him, because she felt too big made him hurt. "Baby," He began, not giving Y/n a second to doubt him, he picked her up and sat her in his lap. "you aren't 'too heavy' to pick up." He hated how quickly she curled into his chest, how clear it was that she was missing human connection. "I'm the strongest man alive, and you saying that you're too heavy is going to bruise my ego a bit, Baby." They both laughed, a few of Y/n's tears hitting the fabric of Bucky's shirt.

"I thought Steve was th' strongest man alive?"

"I let him win when we arm wrestle." Bucky admitted, causing Y/n to break out into a fit of giggles.

"'m gonna tell him!" She stood up, bolting for the door.

"Oh no you don't!" Bucky ran after her, lifting her off her feet in the middle of the hallway, Y/n pausing with a gasp, bracing for the two of them to fall, yet laughing along with Bucky as jostled her around, threatening to take her new colouring page off the fridge if she told anyone his secret.

After a pinky promise and some juice Y/n began to trust Bucky a little bit more. She let him pick her up at the playground, and gave him a hug before bed every night. She still worried her hugs were 'bad', that maybe no one would want to hug her because she wasn't 'little' but Bucky never once complained, instead asking for hugs in the morning too.

It took her a while to truly trust that Bucky wasn't lying when he said his back didn't hurt after picking her up, but eventually she became comfortable enough to run and jump into his arms, something she had always dreamed of doing.

It wasn't until a month later that Bucky woke up at 4 am to the sound of Y/n's hurried footsteps rushing to his door. Light creeping in from the opened door she didn't close as she ran to his bed. The sound of soft cries and whispers of "Nightmare" filling the usually quiet space.

Instead of letting her think too much about how she 'should' be cuddling, Bucky just scooped her up and tucked her into his bed, letting her know he'd protect her, and her stuffed animal. He liked having her in his room, it made him feel at ease knowing she was close.

After a few months of staying in Bucky's room, Y/n began to get out of her shell a bit more, hugging Wanda and Peter, and eventually accepting Thor's 'healing' hugs. She finally joined in during the weekly cuddle puddle, laughing along side Nat and her friends as they all got cozy on the couch. And for the first time ever she let someone else, the second strongest man alive, Steve Rogers pick her up. A pride filled movement the man would never forget.

Even though it took her a little longer than everyone else to be comfortable hugging and snuggling, she was happy to finally be apart of the group in ways she wasn't before. Bucky, the man who still often stayed in the shadows, helping from a distance, couldn't help but feel a little lighter every time he saw his girl get over her worries, knowing if anything got to be 'too much' she'd come running to him.

#buckys little belle #anon #age regression #little!reader #age regression fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky

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ventismacchiato · 1 year

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mr. oblivious

The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Kuni, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.

scaramouche x g!n reader

established relationship, married, modern teacher au

2.7k words

a/n: sorry if it clogs up ur feed 😭 everytime i do the keep reading thing it crashes for me so, transferred from ao3 so if there’s any weird typos lmk

It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.

You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.

So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.

It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Timmie wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.

Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.

Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.

You brought it up to Kuni during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Kuni didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.

You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Kuni, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Venti, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Kuni sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Kuni never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.

“So, what’s your secret?” Venti sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so stoic Kuni to talk to you for longer than a minute?”

“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”

Venti and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.

“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Venti dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about KuniYn?” Lisa grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.

“What the hell is KuniYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Kuni? Was this their way of welcoming you?

“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.

And to your horror, a little splash of his coffee landed on the other male.

A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Bennett spilled his drink on Kuni the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.

“Careful,” Kuni mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.

“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Kuni and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”

“It’s fine,” Kuni assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.

You made sure to pointedly ignore Venti and Lisa’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.

You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Kuni’s name spoken for the nth time that day.

“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Kuni’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Luo insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”

“Like-like?” Qiqi drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“

“We should make them be a couple!” Klee giggled, clapping her hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Kuni is too strict for them but it’s okay.”

So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Kuni were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Kuni really not mentioned being married even once?

Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Kuni really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.

“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”

“Or boyfriends,” Klee giggled behind her hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted her on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Kuni’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Venti rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Hutao.

“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Hutao huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”

“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Xingqiu, the school’s librarian, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Kuni out on Valentine’s!”

“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.

“Clumsy as always,” Kuni murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Venti who was stifling a laugh.

“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Xiangling defended, hands on her hips.

“Lunch,” Kuni dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”

The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”

Kuni hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.

The moment he left all hell broke loose.

“SEE! I knew Kuni would make a move!”

“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"

“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”

You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Kuni’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Kuni?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.

Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.

“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Kuni, leaning back into it as Kuni gestured to his half finished take out box.

“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kuni work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.

“A crush?” Kuni repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”

“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”

“It never came up,” Kuni mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the brats were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”

“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Kuni to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.

“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Kuni shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.

“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.

Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Kuni’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.

The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.

Kazuha was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Kuni’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Kuni to groan and sadly flip through it.

“So how long have you two been together?” Kazuha drawled, leaning forward as Kuni shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Kuni actually sort of talked to, it seems even Kazuha hadn’t known of their relationship status.

“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Kazuha as he nodded, turning to make his leave.

“I’m so winning this bet–”

“What bet? KAZUHA GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.

At least it looked pretty.

“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”

“Venti, they are children,” Kazuha mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.

“As their other music teacher you should add it into the curriculum,” Venti huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”

“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Xingqiu pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.

“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Xingqiu mused.

“Coward,” Lisa reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”

“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.

“Hold up, you’re married?!” Venti shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”

“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Xiangling cried out, covering her mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”

Kazuha snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.

“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Xiangling scoffed, hitting Kazuha on the shoulder as he cackled.

“Pay up,” Kazuha grinned as you shook your head.

“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.

“Yikes, I told Kuni I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Lisa admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.

Kuni stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the basket, Kuni,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on pda, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Kuni’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.

Kuni merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet, you felt a little bad about putting him on the spot but you wanted to show off your husband for once!

“Pause,” Venti stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”

“I just lost so much money,” Lisa groaned, sucking her teeth and already pulling out her wallet as Kazuha gleefully counted his bills.

“I’m still processing,” Xingqiu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”

“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Kuni grew up,” you answered, firmly grasping Kuni’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.

“I owe Kazuha money?” Albedo questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”

“Suck my dick,” Kazuha grinned, opening his palm as Albedo sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.

“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Kuni complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you was pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Venti giggled, dodging the box of candy Kuni picked up and tossed at him.

“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Kuni countered.

“The audacity,” Albedo murmured as Venti huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.

“Guess we need a new project,” Venti grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Kazuha, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”

“You’re gonna what?!” Kazuha exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates

You laughed as you watched Kazuha practically run away from Venti, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.

Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#kai writes — 📝#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #genshin scaramouche #teacher scaramouche #genshin teacher

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aloysiavirgata · 19 days

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Prompt! Vulnerable post-case Scully. She can be prickly (because I love your Scully) but also delicate. Case-related vulnerability is my most favourite vibe in the series and every so often I get sad that there are no more moments to watch. Thank you 💜

By the time she gets around to taking it off, her blood-soaked starched blouse has all but melded with her skin. They have to peel it from her body with a crackling sound. Her jacket is already stiffly tented in the corner.

He will burn those items later, he will burn and burn and burn.

***

Acrid scent of gunpowder in the air still. Blood like pennies baking on hot tarmac. Cortisol, adrenaline.

Terror.

Her grasping fingers, her grasping hands, her wracking sobs even as he pried her away to check for wounds.

***

Mulder helps her to his bathroom, holding her elbow as she staggers beside him like a fawn. Her hair is dried in ragged, bloody clumps.

He settles her onto the toilet lid, gets the bath running at her preferred level of scald. He squirts in a few blobs of his pine-scented body wash, which begin to foam. Scully smiles a heartbreaking smile in thanks.

“Bubbles,” he says, inanely.

Scully’s chest is caked with blood, even with her shirt removed to reveal the stained satin of her bra. Her belly is streaked with it, her black trousers rusty and stiff.

How is there any blood still inside her? How is she still here?

She has her arms crossed at her lap, her head bowed. He cannot see anything but her white shoulders and her draggled hair and her dark, narrow thighs.

“Scully,” he whispers.

She gazes up, hollow-eyed. “He didn’t…” she begins. “We never….”

She looks away, lower lip between her teeth.

“Oh, Scully.”

His hands are gentle at the clasp of her bra; he turns his eyes from her breasts even though he’s seen them.

He unbuttons the fine wool trousers at her waist, slides them down with her dark panties. He doesn’t look or touch or breathe more than he has to because the idea of connecting any of this to lust makes him sick.

Her hips, the dark triangle of sunset hair between her thighs, are also sticky with blood. The lace clings a little and she winces. Her trouser lining tugs. Finally, she is nude. She is so small and so bloody and so bare, like a newborn creature.

Mulder guides her towards the tub, averts his eyes like she is Artemis bathing. Tries not to think the name Diana.

Scully, breast-deep in bubbles. Scully dripping rusty rivulets in the steam. Her tears are silent now, streaking paths down her blood-smattered kidskin face.

Mulder fills a scuffed blue plastic Knicks cup with water, curves his palm around her eyes. “Look up,” he murmurs, and she does, distant, outside of herself.

He sluices water over her head until it runs clear, until she is sleek as an otter, a siren, a goddess. She gasps a little, spreads her fingers against her skull.

Her freckles are magnified by the falling water, her eyes a little too big. A little too round. Her nose is straight and queenly throughout however; her lips parted like a budding tulip.

He massages pearly-blue Head and Shoulders shampoo into the rare, persimmon beauty of her hair. He massages her scalp until she purrs a little. He touches her until his nerves are settled.

“Mulder,” she says, and grasps his forearm in her fine, pale hand. Her face is pre-Raphaelite. Her face is like a D below middle-C; a plucked bowstring, still quivering.

Agent Mulder is already in love.

“Padgett was crazy, he was -“ she begins.

“Sshhhh,” he says. “I have conditioner.” He holds the bottle out, a drugstore brand promising THICKNESS!!! and SHINE!!!

She laughs and it warms him like a hot toddy, like the sun in August, like the sand at Ninigret Pond.

***

Scully is clean, finally, even her smudged makeup rubbed away. They’ve drained and refilled the tub with fresh water, with fresh bubbles. She seems like herself again, not so dazed.

He passes her his robe, turns his head to hold it out when she stands.

“You’re so Victorian.”

“Oh, you know how much I love to lie back and think of England.” He glances over. “The memories are so nice, Phoebe and all.”

Scully ties the too-long belt in a big square knot. “It was kindly meant.” Her smile is soft.

“I know.”

They shift awkwardly for a moment in the small space. Scully looks like a kid dressed up as an angel for a Nativity play in that enormous robe, her bare face and bare feet and tumbled halo of hair.

“Thank you,” Scully begins finally. “I couldn’t have-“

“I’m sorry,” he says at the same time.

Scully frowns. “Why on earth are you sor-“

“My neighbor. So I feel like I..I don’t know. I led him to you.” He picks at a non-existent hangnail.

Scully sighs. “Oh, Mulder.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t… I didn’t mean to make it about me, I know these are your choices, that you’re not some damsel in distress. I just hate when these things hurt you.”

Things is such an inadequate word, but no word ever could be adequate.

Scully blinks. She opens the door, wafts into his bedroom with the steam. Trails his bathrobe like a court gown.

Mulder follows after, wary. Watches her sprawl on his bed, far from the blood stains in the living room. He’s already called the crime-scene cleanup company.

Again.

She pats the bed next to her. “I promise I won’t take advantage of you.”

He laughs a little at that, remembers her looking a lot like this years ago in Bellefleur, in that awful motel with that terrible brown Clairol wash on her hair. He flops next to her. “Any mosquito bites you want me to check, Doctor Scully?”

She thumbs his cheek. “I was a child.”

He kisses her nose so that he doesn’t kiss her mouth. Though why shouldn’t he? Why shouldn’t they?

“I was a child and she was a child in this kingdom by the sea…” he quotes. Trails off. What are they doing, this isn’t a partnership. This is strange and awful and gorgeous. Her dying baby in his arms, her ova, her-

“In her sepulchre there by the sea…” Scully murmurs. “In her tomb by the sounding sea.” She closes her eyes.

They breathe one another’s air. They breathe artificial pine scent, dryer sheets, warm nitrogen. Faded cotton, old paper.

“Are you okay?” he asks, so he doesn’t slip a finger between her thighs. So he doesn’t say I love you the way oysters love the morning tide.

Her finger at his lips, her breath on his lashes. Her sweet, warm skin and her extraordinary brain and the scarred palimpsest of her body right here.

“No,” she says, stroking his jaw. “But I will be.”

****

She stays with him all night and he stays with her all night and they are arranged like the Lovers of Valdaro.

His coffee pot is programmed. His carpet is soaked in her blood, her gun is going to be the subject of an investigation.

He and Walter will protect her.

***

She loses the robe at 2AM, mumbling something vague about being tangled and too hot. Her naked body is now asleep against his chest and he lets go, finally, in the sweet vulnerability of her slim arms that can heal and kill.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr #prompt #my fic #inbox #milagro #ust

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bowlofsoob · 11 months

Text

mr. oblivious

The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Choi Soobin, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.

choi soobin x gender neutral reader

established relationship, married, teachers au

wc: 2.7k words

You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.

It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Haerin wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.

Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.

Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.

You brought it up to Soobin during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Soobin didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.

You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Soobin, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Beomgyu, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Soobin sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Soobin never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.

“So, what’s your secret?” Beomgyu sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so quiet Soobin to talk to you for longer than a minute?”

“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”

Beomgyu and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.

“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Beomgyu dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about SoobinYn?” Hueningkai grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.

“What the hell is SoobinYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Soobin? Was this their way of welcoming you?

“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.

And to your horror, a little splash of your coffee landed on the other.

A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Yeonjun spilled his drink on Soobin the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.

“Careful,” Soobin mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.

“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Soobin and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”

“It’s fine,” Soobin assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.

You made sure to pointedly ignore Beomgyu and Hueningkai’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.

“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Soobin’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Hyein insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”

“Like-like?” Haerin drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“

“We should make them be a couple!” Sunoo giggled, clapping his hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Soobin is not good enough for them but it’s okay.”

So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Soobin were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Soobin really not mentioned being married even once?

Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Soobin really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.

“Or boyfriends,” Sunoo giggled behind his hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted him on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Soobin’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Beomgyu rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Yeonjun.

“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Yeonjun huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”

“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Taehyun, the school’s gym teacher, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Soobin out on Valentine’s!”

“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.

“Clumsy as always,” Soobin murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Beomgyu who was stifling a laugh.

“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Yeonjun defended, hands on his hips.

“Lunch,” Soobin dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”

The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”

Soobin hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.

The moment he left all hell broke loose.

“SEE! I knew Soobin would make a move!”

“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"

“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”

You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Soobin’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Soobin?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.

Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.

“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Soobin, leaning back into it as Soobin gestured to his half finished take out box.

“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Soobin work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.

“A crush?” Soobin repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”

“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”

“It never came up,” Soobin mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the kids were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”

“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Soobin to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.

“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Soobin shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.

“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.

Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Soobin’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.

Hueningkai was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Soobin’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Soobin to groan and sadly flip through it.

“So how long have you two been together?” Hueningkai drawled, leaning forward as Soobin shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Soobin actually sort of talked to, it seems even Hueningkai hadn’t known of their relationship status.

“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Hueningkai as he nodded, turning to make his leave.

“I’m so winning this bet–”

“What bet? HUENINGKAI GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

At least it looked pretty.

“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”

“Beomgyu, they are children,” Hueningkai mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.

“As their English teacher you should add it into the curriculum to analyze or something,” Beomgyu huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”

“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Hueningkai pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.

“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Beomgyu mused.

“Coward,” Yeonjun reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”

“Hold up, you’re married?!” Beomgyu shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”

“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Yeonjun cried out, covering his mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”

Hueningkai snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.

“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n was married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Yeonjun scoffed, hitting Hueningkai on the shoulder as he cackled.

“Pay up,” Hueningkai grinned as you shook your head.

“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.

“Yikes, I told Soobin I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Beomgyu admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.

Soobin stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the basket, Soobin,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on PDA, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Soobin’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.

Soobin merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet. You felt a little bad about putting him on the spot, but you wanted to show off your husband for once!

“Pause,” Beomgyu stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”

“I just lost so much money,” Yeonjun groaned, sucking his teeth and already pulling out his wallet as Hueningkai gleefully counted his bills.

“I’m still processing,” Beomgyu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”

“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Soobin grew up in,” you answered, firmly grasping Soobin’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.

“I owe Hueningkai money?” Taehyun questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”

“Suck my dick,” Hueningkai grinned, opening his palm as Taehyun sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.

“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Soobin complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you were pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Beomgyu giggled, dodging the box of candy Soobin picked up and tossed at him.

“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Soobin countered.

“The audacity,” Taehyun murmured as Beomgyu huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.

“Guess we need a new project,” Beomgyu grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Hueningkai, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”

“You’re gonna what?!” Hueningkai exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates

You laughed as you watched Hueningkai practically run away from Beomgyu, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.

Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#txt smau #txt x reader #soobin x reader #soobin x gender neutral reader #soobin x yn #soobin x y/n #soobin x gn reader #soobin x male reader #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin x you #soobin smau #choi soobin smau

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phoward89 · 6 months

Text

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

Series Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. Dark!Coriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus, Dom!Coriolanus

Chapter 4:

You just resumed chopping up the vegetables for the quick stir fry you were going to make for dinner whenever a knock sounded at your door. Oh, so Coriolanus came back for his forgotten jacket. That's good. So, without giving it much thought, you put down your knife and left the kitchen- to go into the main room and answer the door.

But when you opened the door, it wasn't your platinum blonde ex that greeted you, but your current bronze haired boyfriend. Odysseus.

“I brought you some dinner from North Italia.” He smiled, holding up a couple of cardboard boxes with the restaurant’s label on them. “It's squid ink tonnarelli and tiramisu.” Odysseus informed you with a bright smile, making his way to your kitchen. “I think you'll like it; it's what I always get when I go there.”

“I usually get the chicken parm and some cannolis, but I'm sure what you got me will be good.” You half lied. Oh, you were honest about what you always ordered from North Italia (a place that you and Coryo seemed to both order out from and attend his business dinners at), but not about how you felt about what Odysseus got you. Just the thought of eating something made of squid ink made you cringe.

Like, really? Squid ink? Food made with squid ink… You know that Odysseus is really into his District 4 roots, but isn't squid ink food a bit much.

“Hmmm…” Your boyfriend skeptically hummed.

“I was chopping up some veggies to make a stir fry with, but I guess I'll just put them up in the fridge for another day.” You told your boyfriend, following right behind him.

Upon entering the kitchen, Odysseus stopped dead in his tracks. The takeout containers fell out of his hands, due to his shock at seeing a red suit jacket and a large bouquet of red roses on your kitchen island.

Your eyes went wide as you remembered the roses and Coriolanus’ forgotten jacket that are on your kitchen island. Oh no…Odysseus saw them.

“Odysseus?” You tentatively asked, coming up next to him and placing a hand softly on his arm.

He could react one of two ways…

Either lash out on you or cry, but both would come with an accusation.

Pushing your hand off of his arm, Odysseus turned to you only to incredulously exclaim, “We've been together for over a week and you're already cheating on me!” Shaking his head, causing his bronze waves to rustle around his shoulders, he rhetorically asked, “What the hell's wrong with you, honey? I thought you were a nice girl.”

“I am a nice girl, Odysseus.” You told your boyfriend, only to quickly deny the cheating (that you finished doing not that long ago) with, “I didn't cheat. An old friend from my Academy days came over. He's a gentleman; has a thing for bringing roses, and forgot his jacket when he left.”

“You expect me to believe that, Y/N?” Odysseus bitterly scoffed. “Please, don't lie to me. We both know that you're not an Academy graduate, honey.”

That took you aback. Why would he assume that you weren't an Academy graduate?

“But-” You began, only for your boyfriend to cut you off with, “We both know what kind of people attend the Academy, Y/N. Hell, I attended it because it's for rich people, and sadly, honey, you're not rich.”

You felt a heavy, sad feeling welling up in your chest, but you pushed it down. You didn't want your new boyfriend to see you get upset from his words. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Plus you only felt comfortable enough with one man to let yourself show emotions around them. Or at least you did, before everything went down the previous month…

Trying and failing not to let your boyfriend's words get under your skin, you retorted with, “I know I'm not rich, Odysseus. I never said I was, but I was raised around rich kids despite growing up not having a pot to piss in.”

“Look, you don't need to impress me by trying to fluff up your background with Academy cred. I’m not into the social hierarchy of the Capitol, unlike my father.” Odysseus told you, clicking his tongue in a slight reprimanding manner. Crossing his arms over his firm chest, he revealed, “I like you, honey, but the fact that I can't trust you now cause of-” Waving his hand towards the red jacket and roses on the island. Refolding his arm over his chest, your boyfriend sighed, “I think we need to take a break for a few days, so I can clear my head and see how I feel about us.”

Of course, he wanted to take a break. You don't blame him one bit for that. If the roles were reversed, you'd probably want a break too.

“I think that maybe you should take a few personal self-help mental health days. Uh, 3 of them should be good.”

“What? Odysseus-”, You began, feeling that 3 personal self-help mental health days was uncalled for just because the two of you got into a fight and decided to take a small break, but Odysseus cut you off dramatically with, “I suspect you of cheating and you need to think about what you did. Plus, honey, we don't need tension in the company, you do work in the marketing department of the Odair Luxury Cruises.”

“You can't expect me to stay home because we're having a misunderstanding, Odysseus. Hell, we don't even work on the same floor.”

“I don't need any company drama, Y/N, and we're not having a misunderstanding. I caught you cheating, honey, and now I have to decide if I want to give you another chance or not; I don't need to be seeing you around my Pop's company while trying to figure out what to do with you.” Odysseus told you before exiting your apartment; leaving you alone in your kitchen entrance to stew in your thoughts.

You’re alone in the elevator, holding the large bouquet of red roses in your hand; red jacket draped over the crook of your arm, furiously rubbing away the tears that are trickling down your cheeks. Your eyes were starting to blur as you saw the floor numbers begin to reach double digits.

You had to quickly dry your eyes. You couldn't let that platinum haired ex of yours see you crying.

No.

You just wanted to give him back his jacket and roses; thank him for fucking up your new relationship too.

Suddenly, the elevator reached its destination and came to a stop. The doors opened with a loud ding, causing you to step out and into the foyer. You didn't even bother to take in the foyer’s modern decor, just made a beeline towards the penthouse door. The sooner you give Coriolanus his stuff back, the sooner you can go back to your apartment and wallow in your misery. Think of something to say when you call up your boss in the morning to take a few impromptu self-help healing days.

Coming to a stop in front of the ornate door, you scrubbed your eyes dry for a final time and let out a sigh. Balling your hand into a fist, you knocked- quickly to signal that you didn't want to wait in the foyer too long.

It felt like hours as you waited for Coriolanus to answer the door, but in reality it was only minutes.

And when you saw him leaning in the doorway, eyes taking in your upset form, you didn't hesitate to throw his forgotten jacket and roses at him while shouting at him to take his stuff back and to stay the fuck out of your life.

When Coriolanus heard the knock on his door, he was on his sofa watching the P-PANEM (Political-PANEM) channel on TV to see how he was doing since announcing his Senate run. And, sadly, he was ranked at the bottom, which pisses him off. So, your knock was actually a nice distraction from the bullshit he was listening to about himself.

And he knew it was you too. How did he know? Eh, call it lover's intuition.

It only took Coriolanus a few minutes to reach his front door and answer it.

But when he saw your red puffy eyes paired with the roses and his red jacket in your clutches, he knew that his plan worked. He just wasn't expecting it to be so soon. Wow, seems like Odair just had to see you tonight. He was expecting the big cheating breakup fight to happen in the morning or tomorrow night. But it happening so soon worked in his favor.

“Take your roses and jacket back.” You told the tall, sinewy man in front of you while throwing the stuff at him. The jacket and roses flew over his shoulder, landing on the marble floor with a loud thud. “And stay out of my fucking life, you damn bastard.”

Coriolanus figured you'd be upset about a breakup with Odysseus l, but he wasn't expecting you to order him to stay out of your life. Okay, now he wants to know what Odair said to you. What happened to make you start calling him a bastard with a hateful tone of voice.

“Baby, what happened?” The platinum blonde asked, placing his hands on your shoulders in a show of concern and sympathy.

“My boyfriend, Odysseus, came over to bring me some squid ink tonnarelli and tiramisu from his dinner meeting at North Italia, but he saw your jacket and the roses you left in my kitchen and now my life's ruined.”

“God, I hope you didn't eat the squid ink shit? That sounds like a case of botulism just ready to happen.” Coriolanus dryly jokes. On a serious note, he did think that the food sounded disgusting- but to each their own.

But hearing you say that your life's ruined did concern him. A simple breakup doesn't ruin somebody's life. So, he was getting the feeling that more than a breakup occurred.

“How is your life ruined now, Y/N?” The blonde asked, needing to know how bad he needed to punish Odysseus for making you cry; ‘ruining your life’.

“Odysseus wants to take a break for a few days and told me that since I work in the marketing department for his father's company that I have to- well he ordered me to- take a few days off for personal self-help mental health days; that Odair Luxury Cruises doesn't need any issues due to me cheating on him.”

“What? He told you that?” Coriolanus asked, not believing the bullshit manwhore Odair was pulling on you. You two didn't even work on the same department, with you being in marketing and him on the top floor playing VP.

“Yes, he did.” You confirmed with a nod.

You're a hard worker and great at your job. Coriolanus was awed that Odysseus was putting your career in jeopardy over his bruised ego. Fuck, even Coriolanus wouldn't do that. In fact, he'd do the opposite. He'd be up your ass at work, trying to work things out.

Then, the aspiring politician had a wonderful idea. Yes, yes, it was perfect. He'd surely win you back with his sudden spur of the moment idea.

“Come in, we need to talk.” Coriolanus told you, grabbing your hand in his and leading you inside of his lavish and modernly designed penthouse.

“There's nothing for us to talk about, Coriolanus.” You objected, trying to pull your hand out of Coriolanus'.

Your ex just tightened his hold on your hand while closing the door behind you. “Yes, baby, we have something very important to talk about.” You just rolled your eyes at him, prompting him to say, “You're fearful about your job, so let's talk about a new career opportunity that’ll make you 92 thousand a year.”

“And what would that be, your personal mistress?” You sarcastically scoffed.

“No.” Coriolanus shook his head, leading you around the items you threw on his floor (the maid’ll get it in the morning). “You'd be my campaign manager; my public affairs advisor.”

“What?” You asked, feeling as if the air was knocked out of you, while entering the large living room with Coriolanus.

“Well, you'd be working with me at the Citadel as my assistant, but I'd have you running my Senate campaign and PR.” He told explained, leading you over to the large white leather sofa.

“Part of your PR would be me promoting your engagement and wedding to Livia, Coriolanus. I don't know if I can do that.” You honestly told him while sitting down on the sofa.

Coriolanus sat down next to you, only to cup your chin and say in a manipulative and soft baritone, “It's a money match. And arranged between Strabo Plinth and The Cardews, nothing more. You can do PR on it because, my darling rose, I hate Livia and she hates me right back.” Tenderly stroking your jaw, he went on to assure you, “I have no feelings for her, whatsoever. But it's you that I feel rather fond of.”

Hmm…so he feels rather fond of you. Nice to know that you're on the same level as an old stuffed animal or a memory. Things that people are fond of are usually things that get forgotten or tossed to the side.

Of course, you're easily expendable. You're something that's perfect to be fond of.

You loved (you still love him, but refuse to admit it since you're moving on from him) Coriolanus, but he's just fond of you. Just your shitty luck, huh?

But, despite how you feel, the yearly salary that Coriolanus promised you was more than enough to rent your apartment and to give you a life that your mother and brother always dreamed of for you. A life where you're able to be successful. And perhaps you'll be able to find love again while attending various social events that are only exclusive to high Capitolite society.

“Fine, I'll do it. I'll take you up on your job offer.” You told him, hoping that you wouldn't regret saying yes.

“Wonderful, darling.” Coriolanus smiled widely, pearly whites on full display. He thought that he'd gotten you right where he wanted you, but he has no idea that you're just using the new career move to secure a future in Panem.

A future without him. One where you can rely on yourself and show everyone that you're perfectly capable of being successful in the dog eat dog world of Capitol City, Panem.

Plus, there won't be any work drama at the Odair company if/when you and Odysseus decide to work things out and get back together.

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wardenparker · 3 months

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Hummingbird Has Landed, Epilogue

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics, mentioning of pregnancy/babies, family planning, breeding kink* Flirting, baby talk, tooth rotting fluff, Marcus being utterly Marcus. Summary: Ten years after getting married, the inn is seeing a slightly different kind of celebration for an even bigger extended family. Notes: While not indicative in any way of reader's appearance or ethnicity or anything else -- it's worth noting that Alex and David were heavily inspired by Alex and Henry from Red, White, and Royal Blue. So I've used a gif of them for this chapter in tribute.

I am particularly sad to say goodbye to these two, but I will hold their family close to my heart and revisit them frequently 🥰🥰 Next week we're taking a short rest, and Javi's soulmate story Bones Full of Words will start on July 14!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16 ~ Ch 17 ~ Ch 18

Getting out of the office was a priority today. Rushing to collect his briefcase, Marcus runs through the list of instructions for his assistant, even though he knows she is well aware. “If you need anything, call me. It will probably be loud, but I’ll keep an eye on things.” He promises, ignoring the little eye roll Tara gives him when he glances up.

She sighs slightly. “Like I’m interrupting tonight.” She scoffs, making him grin.

“We’ll be up late, so I’m not coming in until lunch tomorrow.” He reminds her, having blocked out the morning in his calendar months ago.

“No meetings, got it.” She bites her lip. “How did the lunch with the Director go?” She asks, making him hum as he closes the soft leather tooled briefcase bag that Junie had made for eight Christmases ago.

“Tell you tomorrow.” He promises, knowing that will have her fuming at being out of the loop for even twenty-four hours. She huffs and he’s sailing around the desk to grab his suit jacket. “Have a good night!” He calls over his shoulder playfully. “And don’t forget to go vote!”

It didn’t make sense to have the election night party anywhere but the inn. It’s well within Virginia’s 8th Congressional district and a very recognizable landmark across the country — Americans all remember their two term first woman President, and the stories about her children that played out in the media for the eight years she ran the country.

Tonight, the buzz of another election night has the inn — and the family — on high alert.

“Hey sweetheart!” Marcus rushes into the inn, aware that you will be here rather than at the house. “What do I need to help with?”

“Hi honey!” You’re four feet deep in party preparations, while Juan is out back setting up tents in the garden and Sydney is cooking her heart out. Thankfully the inn is totally sold out to people who will be attending tonight’s party, so there aren’t really extra guests to attend to and the restaurant is closed for one night for the occasion. “Junie has all the kids in the front room if you want to go say hi before I put you to work.”

“Of course I do.” His jacket is already coming off, but he leans in to press a kiss to your lips and his hand finds your stomach. “You aren’t working too hard, are you? I tried to get out as soon as I could.��

“I’m working as hard as little Pike will let me.” A soft moment to enjoy a kiss from your husband without all three of your children swarming him when he comes home from work is a blessing, but this third pregnancy is more tumultuous than the last one. “Constance, Holly and Sabrina insisted on construction papers banners to hang at the party and the boys made sugar cookies with red, white, and blue sprinkles earlier in the day” The generation of kids that are growing up together have bonded quickly — with Sydney and Juan’s oldest taking to your and Marcus’s twins, and the younger brothers of both families coming together just as easily. This time it is you and your sister who are pregnant together, and Junie has been unexpectedly enjoying the majority of her pregnancy. Her first has been mild and she has that fantastic glow about her at six months along.

“Good.” Marcus beams as he caresses the barest bump under your breasts. You had insisted you were just gaining a little weight this time but he knew better. “Everyone is excited for tonight. They’ve asked if they can stay up until the speeches.” He warns you with a chuckle. “I’ve already taken the morning off tomorrow.”

“They can stay up a little, but they have school tomorrow.” Which you’ve already told them, of course, but the twins are already learning that giving their Daddy big eyes will get them a whole lot of leeway. “After my mother’s second election, I genuinely thought we were done with this.” It sounds like a complaint, but you laugh softly and shake your head, leaning into your husband’s side in your office. “I guess one of us was bound to end up following in her footsteps.”

“It’s very fitting that it’s Alex.” He slides his hand down to rub the spot on your back that has been giving you the most grief with this last pregnancy. “I cast my vote for him today before lunch.”

“I love that he’s running in our district,” you admit, glowing with that sisterly pride that you’ve been known to show all along your brother’s campaign trail. “That we can actually vote for him. I gave the staff long meal breaks today to go vote. Everybody has their stickers on.”

“I know. But it’s convenient since he and David live one neighborhood over.” He teases, kissing your cheek and winking at you playfully. “Now, how can I help?”

"Go say hi to your kids and then I'll enlist you to help me set up the main sitting room for tonight." Stealing one more kiss before you step away is a challenge only in that you have to limit yourself to one more kiss.

“You got it, sweetheart.” Despite the time and the additional responsibilities, Marcus still feels that fluttering in his stomach every time he kisses you. Stepping away, he opens the door to your office. “Pike posse! Where are you?” He calls out.

"Daddy!" The scream goes up nearly immediately, and three sets of little feet hit the ground running to scramble around the corner into the hallway.

His kids are the most important people in his world, besides you. He immediately drops down, expecting to be tackled and grunts as he absorbs the impact of the three’s enthusiastic greeting.

The twins start talking at him immediately about their day at school, as nine-year-old Holly and Sabrina both aced their geography quizzes and are currently facing the very serious dilemma of picking out books for their next book reports. Six-year-old Matthew is quiet while his sisters command their father's attention, but snuggles into Marcus's side as tightly as possible in the meantime.

His arm winds around Matthew, hugging him close, and he kisses the top of his curly brown head. Giving his full attention to the reasons that he is proud to drink out of the #1 Dad mug that sits on his desk at work every day. “We will find the perfect books this weekend at the bookstore. How does that sound?” Marcus suggests, knowing they will love that.

"YESSSS!" Both girls chant over and over, wiggling out happy dance moves on the spot. This was clearly the outcome they were hoping for.

“And what about you, Matt?” Marcus turns his attention on the quiet little boy that is still clinging to him. “Does that sound like fun?“

The little boy thinks for a second, lips twisted up in concentrated consideration, until he finally nods a little. "Could I...get a crayon book?" The most artistic of your children asks, always favoring coloring books and puzzle books — collectively called crayon books by the first grader — over other activities.

“Absolutely.” The promise is easily made, making sure that he doesn’t feel judged by wanting to color or draw over reading. “We will find a great crayon book, just for you.”

"Do you want to see the banners we made, Daddy?" Sabrina asks eagerly, already about to pull their father into the next room to show him before she can even finish the sentence. "Matty drew stars on them, and I did stripes!"

“Come on bud.” Marcus hoists Matthew up into his arms as he lets the twins lead him into the main sitting room of the inn. “Oh, it’s great!” He proclaims when he sees the banner on the ground.

"Auntie June said we could put it up over the window!" Holly announces with a toothy grin. One of her top front teeth fell out a few days ago and a bottom tooth has become especially wiggly since then.

“Of course we will.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll hang it up as soon as you show me exactly where.” June will go nowhere near a step ladder, considering her condition and he knows Dylan will be thankful for that. You and June are too much alike, trying to climb on things and give your soulmates heart attacks while carrying the babies.

"I thought it would be best to wait until their helpfully tall father got home," June admits, coming back into the room from the other side — a direction that means she definitely ducked into the kitchen for a snack while the kids were saying hello. "Hi Marcus."

“Hey, June.” Marcus smiles at your younger sister and moves over to give her a quick hug. “I know your husband will be happy.”

"Yeah, yeah," she huffs and rolls her eyes like she hadn't tried to get up on a ladder with a hammer in her own house just three days ago and Dylan had had a fit after walking into the room. "How was your meeting?" She asks more quietly, tilting her head at her brother-in-law when her niblings aren't paying attention.

“It was…enlightening.” Marcus grins and shrugs, not willing to say too much right now. Today isn’t about him. “How was Charlie the horse, today?”

"My star patient is recovering marvelously." June's veterinary practice has unexpectedly become primarily focused on horses and small amounts of domestic livestock along with the usual dogs and cats, and she is thriving being an on-demand vet that makes house calls around their corner of Virginia. "He was trotting around very happily by the time I left today."

“Hopefully you are letting Marcy do all the heavy lifting with the animal?” Her vet tech is a wonderful woman who has aspirations of becoming a veterinarian herself, once she can complete the schooling. It had been a reassurance to Dylan to have her there with Junie as she made house calls.

“It helps that Marcy is also taller and stronger than me,” June admits with a laugh. “I’m behaving, Marcus. I promise.”

“Good.” He gives her a pointed look. “I know how the women in your family operate.” He reminds her. “Your sister nearly made me crazy with the twins.”

“Juan had to wrestle her away from the porch decorations earlier,” June tells him with a knowing smirk. “I think carrying twins makes her feisty.”

Marcus’s eyes widen slightly and his mouth drops open. “Carrying?” He chokes out.

"Oh shoot." June's eyes dart over to the kids, who have already set out at creating a chain of construction paper links in red, white, and blue to go with their banner. When she looks back at Marcus, she shoves him and grins. "Go talk to your wife, but do not tell her I spilled the beans."

“I—” he fumbles for something to say, but he can’t. Just turning around and immediately moving back towards the office. Happy the kids are occupied again so he can talk to you.

"Hey." His familiar shadow in your doorway makes you stand again, and you pick up a stack of papers that you had meant to bring home yesterday to look over before you think better of it and put them down again. Tonight is just election night. Tomorrow you'll deal with personal news and other business. That's what you had decided, even though you're almost vibrating with your own good news tonight. "Did the kids show you their banner? Holly is extremely proud of how straight her stripes are."

“They did.” Marcus nods as he closes the door behind him. Walking over to you and pulling you in for a more prolonged kiss, one that he pours himself into.

It isn't that Marcus never takes the time to kiss you breathless, but you hadn't expected it today and certainly not right now, so you end up both wrapped in his arms and boneless against him as you sink into the kiss until you're both breathless. "What was that for?" You breathe, when he finally pulls away again.

“I’m just…happy.” He nuzzles his nose against yours gently and kisses you again. “So fucking happy, hummingbird.”

"Does this mean your meeting went well?" You ask, arms twining around his waist and beaming at him.

“It was good.” He smiles back at you and sighs softly. “But that’s not important right now.”

"Your meeting...with the Director of the FBI...isn't important right now?" That doesn't make any sense to you at all, and you pull back a little to look Marcus over and frown. "Was it...not about what you thought?"

“It was.” Marcus admits, knowing that the idea of it has changed in the past two minutes. “I think I might turn it down.”

"What? Why?" That definitely isn't the response you were expecting from him. Not when he's been edging his way toward this one last promotion for years now.

“It would be a lot of hours.” He reminds you softly, leaning in and kissing you again. “We are about to have another baby.” He wants you to tell him, not have it come out that he knows. Hating now that he had missed the appointment because of a department meeting. You had assured him it was okay to miss one and now he has missed something important.

"You've worked so hard for this," you remind him gently. "This is your literal life's work. Your entire career. I don't want you to give up the chance to see that through. We always planned on a big family, that shouldn't stop you from accepting a promotion." Once glance down between you at your growing belly makes you sigh softly and you lean up to kiss him again. "I was going to save these until tomorrow...but do you want to see the ultrasound photos from this morning?"

“Not unless you don’t want me to.” Marcus would love nothing more, but he also doesn’t want to pressure you.

“I had a silly idea that tonight was going to be all about Alex, and nothing else.” From behind you, you reach into your desk drawer and pull out an untouched envelope of photos to hand to Marcus. “But this is important. Just like your work is important. Our lives are our family and our careers, and we’ve worked really hard to keep the balance.”

“I know.” Marcus assures you, not taking the photos but he drags his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “The director is retiring next month and wants to appoint me as the acting director as a trial run to being named Director of the FBI.”

“That’s…that’s incredible, baby. I’m so proud of you.” Pride in your partner, of how hard he works and how much he has accomplished, sticks in your throat and make your voice crack a little. If you’re a little teary while you beam at him and pull him in tightly for a hug? Well, that’s pride too but also a dash of pregnancy hormones. His thoughts of retiring early were thrown to the back burner when he got set on the fast-track of promotion after promotion. He’s been the Assistant Director of the FBI for almost four years already. “You deserve it, love. You work so hard and you deserve everything.”

“I don’t know about that.” He knows there have been sacrifices for his job, there always have been. But he’s worked hard to balance life and work. “This, our family is the most important thing in my life.”

“And I love how dedicated you are to us.” Your eyes track away from his just long enough to find the envelope again, and you smile. “You should look at the photos, love.”

He takes the envelope from you and swallows. “I wish I could have been there.” He murmurs, pulling out the sonogram photos and immediately tearing up. “Another set of twins.” He chokes out. “My babies.”

“We both got good news today.” If you’re honest, you had guessed it would be twins even before the doctor confirmed it. It felt the same as the first time you were pregnant. Intense morning sickness and faintness with an equally intense feeling of giddiness. Even the cravings have been similar so far.

He practically giggles and swoops you into another hug and kiss. Elated that you are happy about the news and he will never be unhappy about more kids. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.” Your hands on his cheeks are warm and doting, and your thumbs sweep over his cheekbones as you grin. “Whatever you decide is your path, the kids and I will be here to love you and be so proud of you.”

“I’m going to take it.” The idea of being able to pad the college savings for the kids is important. “But, the second it doesn’t work with having five kids, I’ll retire.”

“It’s your decision to make.” The way you nod — emphatic and beaming with pride — has you in giggles all over again. “Director Pike.”

“It’s our decision.” He reminds you, although he’s also grinning. “Nothing comes before you and the kids.”

“Tonight I’m afraid that can’t be true.” But you steal one more eager, excited kiss from him anyway. “It’s Alex’s night. And we should get out there and help with finishing the decorations before Juan comes and hunts us down.”

“Yes we should.” He can’t help but press a kiss to your lips again. “I love you so much, Hummingbird.”

No one eats quite the way congressional staffers do in the week leading up to elections, and Alex’s electoral team is no exception. The buffet that Sydney and her team put out is refilled a second time before things calm down, and the team is watching votes roll in on laptops, phone screens, and the big TVs all around the inn. Some folks are outside, where a little bit of a party is starting to brew as Alex’s lead in the polls becomes clearer and clearer. You, your siblings, the soulmates, and your parents are all piled into the front sitting room together with the big TV turned on and Alex’s campaign director is hustling back and forth between groups of people.

“They haven’t called it yet.” Alex hums, twisting his hands in his husband’s. He’s nervous and jittery and touching David seems to help him calm down. “The fourth and seventh district polls aren’t in yet.”

"I know, baby." David lets his husband's restless hands move in his as much as they need, standing steady as his rock while Alex gets his nerves out. "But look at what is in. We don't need every single vote for you to win, just a few more percentage points and you can put the finished touches on your acceptance speech."

“Ohhhh don’t jinx me.” Alex huffs, leaning over and closing his eyes as his head rests against David’s shoulder. “I don’t want to count my chickens.”

"Ba-gock." Junie deadpans the sound of a chicken as another district reports their numbers.

"Alex." Your hands are on his shoulders instantly. "Alex, look!" You insist, pointing to the screen. "Two percent more and you've got it!"

“Oh god, oh god, I’m gonna be sick.” He moans, eyes wide and he has to lean forward. “You never told me how bad this part of running is, mom.” He groans to the former President, currently sitting in her husband’s lap on the nearby sofa.

"And scare you off?" She laughs, unbothered and unworried for him. She knows he has this in hand, even if he doesn't. "Never, Al."

“Evil.” He huffs, making everyone else laugh. They’ve always had faith in him, maybe more than he’s had in himself and he knows that he wouldn’t be here without each and every one of you. “Distract me with something. Anything. Good news.” He begs, looking around the group.

You and Marcus exchange glances, and Junie clears her throat loudly. "Birdie went to the doctor today," she says loudly enough that there's no pretending it isn't the thing everyone has zeroed in on right away.

Marcus squeezes your hand and grins, unable to hide his delight. “And?” Alex demands, lifting his head instantly and looking over at you. “My latest niece or nephew?” He asks, thinking that the sex was determined.

"We just confirmed that I'm even pregnant again," you laugh, shaking your head at the question. You and Marcus probably stretched it a little going for your first doctor's appointment this time around, but you weren't really in a hurry when the signs were so clear — and so was the pharmacy test that you took. "But...we can tell you that the Pike genetics are strong." The grin that spreads across your face is broad. "It's twins."

Everyone gasps and starts celebrating. None of them are surprised, Selena just had twins last year, but they are happy. Alex jumps up, diving towards you to hug you. “God, I can’t believe it.” He whispers in your ear. “I’m so happy for you.”

"We'll have you kissing babies on the reelection circuit in no time." Though you hug your brother tightly, your eyes are on the television screen behind him. The announcement had taken your family's focus away from the campaign entirely, and that was apparently the magic touch necessary for more results to come pouring in. "Congressman." You poke his side slightly and nudge him back. "Alex, look."

“What?” His head whips around and his eyes bug out when he sees that they are declaring him the winner. The phones that have all been gathered on the coffee table immediately start ringing. “Oh my god.” He whispers. “Oh my god. I won!”

"You won!" David cries in turn, not that he had doubted his husband for a second, but so startled by the timing that he's thrown up his hands in the process.

“I won!” Alex lets you go, nearly jumping on David to kiss him. “I won!”

The room erupts in cheers, chatters, and rising voices that verge on shouting as more and more of Alex's campaign staff barrel in from the back garden. "Other direction!" You call, laughing when the room has filled but there are still more people who want to come in. "Back outside! Party goes back outside!"

It takes a moment, but the room clears and the garden is filled with the sounds of cheering and claps, whistles and exuberant celebrations. It’s been a long campaign season and they deserve to be happy for what they helped accomplish.

"I just want to say." Standing on the porch with a whole garden full of people, Alex stands with David at his side and glows. The pride of a well-run campaign and the excitement of a victory give him the same glow that you remember seeing your mother have over and over again, each election night of your childhood.

"I just want to say..." he repeats, laughing a little when it takes a few moments for everyone to quiet down. "My absolute most heartfelt 'thank you's." Everyone roars to life again with cheers and applause but only for a second. "We ran a campaign with integrity, transparency, and a whole lot of promises. Now the real work begins. Now we have to keep those promises, and build the good will with our constituents that will keep us moving forward. But tonight?" He takes David's hand, grateful to have his husband and soulmate there as his anchor. "Tonight we celebrate!"

Marcus holds you close, his hands on your shoulders as he watches his brother-in-law hug all the staff that have tirelessly worked to make tonight reality. “We are all damn lucky.” He murmurs in your ear.

"Hell yes we are." Turning around in his arms, you wrap your arms around your husband's waist and look up at him with a bright smile. "In every way, baby."

The sounds of celebration are loud enough to wake the dead, but the kids are zonked out in the third-floor apartment where they had finally given up trying to stay awake. Everyone’s kids are piled into the bed and having a sleepover even though it’s a school night. Your brother just won his election and will go on to become a beloved representative for his district. Marcus is slotted to become the Director of the FBI, a very important role that he had never originally let himself dream of.

Your inn is one of the best in the D.C. area and constantly packed, and most importantly, your pregnancy is proceeding nicely. It’ll be the last one, Marcus has already scheduled having a vasectomy done after the babies are born. He just hasn’t told you yet.

“Give it another ten years and he’ll be the first gay president.” Marcus predicts with a smile. “Despite what comes, I do know one thing.” The love he carries for you every day is shining through his eyes. “Our lives are amazing and I am so thankful to be here with you.” He promises. “Hummingbird has landed.” He tells you, using the code that had been used when you first met to signify that everything is just as it should be.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog@haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime@vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #PrincessPike2018 #PikeWedding2018 #WhiteHouseWedding2018

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terrifiedlimechime · 2 days

Text

okokok here we are again

the yapper opened her mouth quick get the ear plugs 🙄

so when I think of the stan twins I think of idyllic seaside area...about twenty minutes away because glass shard beach really lives up to its name, polluted and covered in beer bottles as well as sea glass

and the pawn shop, well, not a place for kids, but filbrick couldn't care less

man up boys it's time to learn how to haggle!

and although the stan twins have...a...relatively...interesting life (if selling overpriced junk is interesting to you) filbrick decides that these kids have it way too good. off to the countryside, you pampered little-

well, gravity falls is a...remote place. so with a bottle of sunscreen and a boot up the ass the stans are off to take on gravity falls with grunkle dipper! (or grauntie mabel. im considering having dipper impersonate mabel. MAYBE.)

and dipper is HARSH to ford. like...real harsh. dipper liked all that science stuff when he was a kid, and where did that get him? running a shitty tourist attraction with a box of fake ids under his desk. (sad) ford stumbles into the forest, hits tree, the whole journal finding scene. and branded with a shooting star is a journal describing all the anomalies of gravity falls.

not a massive scientific document, rather a brief study and description of the different creatures, how to protect and slaughter some of the more dangerous (and/or wearable) kinds aswell as various garments inspired by them

the whole tourist trapped gnomes take mabel away thing is flipped to a large group of fairies taking stan (more love for stan please 🙏) to be their king, bla bla bla, fly swatter instead of leaf blower, swat swat that's it, good job guys

in the time travelers pig (possum..rat thing?) we see stan win shanklin by guessing how many fleas are on him (old fifteen 'er) while ford tries to impress fiddleford by winning him a gobblewonker plush (fmcg: "I don't know what that monstergamajig is...but I want it!")

then we meet.... BILL!

bill and gideon are swapped in this au, so bill is a human with his own telepathy tent, branded with a triangle and famed for its "mind tricks"

he never takes off that stupid triangular eyepatch...

dipper...well dipper hates him. "that little brat, always calling me pine tree, making fun of the shack"

and immediately, like gideon, bill is drawn to ford, flattery, "mysteries? haha I love them we should totally talk ab them",n stuff, yadayada

till bill tries to rizz him up asks him out on a date, the whole "omg I don't like him like that can't we be friends again" "no hes gon fall on love" stanley to stanford convo happens, stan breaks up w bill for ford, bill goes apeshit, uses a triangular amulet like gideons, basically what happens w gideon in the show him up asks him out on a date, the whole "omg I don't like him like that can't we be friends again" "no hes gon fall on love" stanley to stanford convo happens, stan breaks up w bill for ford, bill goes apeshit, uses a triangular amulet like gideons, basically what happens w gideon in the show

BUT (I over thought this reference way too much) when defeating bill, ford pretends to be on bills side, bill gives him the amulet and tells him to wipe his brothers mind, ford pretends to, stanley uppercuts bill in the face and ford breaks the amulet, all is saved

b: "CURSE YOU PINE TREE!!"

later in the series, more mysteries are solved, maybe candy/ grenda take the place of soos? idrk, stan and ford set up dipper with pacifica (bcuz i said so)

and guess who billy boo boo summons?

none other then gideon chaos-god gleeful!

the whole gideon-bill scene flipped (i like to think human bill is more confident then human gideon in it tho) and bill and gideon make a deal (idk if i should js tweak gideons human design or make him his telepathy tent star) and instead of bills blind godly confidence and obvious flattery, gideon is all texas charm, the whole shabang

he invades stans mind for the mystery shack deeds, yadayada...

but there's something going on with grunkle dipper...

under the shack, by night dipper tries to fix the portal. the catwalk is in a wreck, and the portal is just about operational (he has a picture of the twins aswell as mabels perfume that she left in the house down there. its the same one she used as a teen and its the only thing that keeps him from falling apart on the bad days)

he's not what he seems.

(might write more, might fling myself off s cliff in the meantime)

#what a ramble lol #gravity falls #relativity falls #billford #the book of bill #stanley pines #stanford pines #young stanford pines #young stan pines #fiddleford mcgucket #gideon gleeful #human bill cipher #too many tags

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rosemaze-reveries · 1 month

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May I request weeping yearning and pining from afar but reader notices this and sends a message? 😚😚😚😚😚😚

omg who could this be ( ᷄ᾥ ᷅ ︎🫶) ty for the chance to write weepybeepy again

― spellbound

Disclaimer: This was loosely inspired by a scene in The Last Circus (the film Hullabaloo’s love triangle is based on). You couldn’t pay me to sit through that movie again but I’ve got to make use of those 2 hrs I wasted somehow </3

⚠️ Some Sergi/Margaretha. Reader uses they/them (sparingly).

Joker sits on the bench by the prop wagon, the one you instructed him to meet at, watching the other performers practise their stunts. A letter is clutched in his hands, written in your script, its envelope stained with tears that dried well over an hour ago. He’s beginning to accept that you aren’t going to show up. But Joker would wait a lifetime for you—if he had nothing else to cling to, he would always choose you. That’s how it’s been for years.

You’re the light of his life, a star on stage and off. He’s never missed a single performance of yours. He might even be more familiar with your schedule than you are. As brilliant as you are, you’re prone to such scattered thoughts that Joker is sure you wouldn’t be able to live on your own. He’s taken it upon himself to watch over you from afar. Every time you forget a piece of your costume, or your lunch, or a stage prop, he finds them for you; he sets aside a plate of all your favorites whenever you’re late to dinner (which is, impressively, most of the time). You’ve never known who your guardian angel is, and he adores playing that role for you.

That’s also why he believes you aren’t standing him up on purpose. But even if you are, even if this letter you sent out of the blue was all a setup, he would still play along for you.

“Joker, I’m so sorry!”

His eyes flick up at the sound of your voice. You’re hauling around several bags in either hand, props and cosmetics practically spilling out over the top. He jumps up from the bench to greet you, ready to rush over and take some of the load. But before he gets the chance you hitch up your bags and break into a sprint toward him. A couple of greasepaint tins tumble onto the grass, but you pay it no mind and even discard the rest of your things off to the ground with them. Then you toss your arms around Joker, squeezing him tight. His shoulders tense on impact, so stiff they nearly graze his ears.

No one has ever held him like this before. It’s almost unbelievable how much tenderness can seep through a person’s touch. He’s slow to process the sudden warmth that’s enfolding him. After a moment’s hesitation, he realizes this is a chance he might not see again for a long time. So he snaps free of his stupor, delicate fingers cupping over your shoulder blades for an awkward pat back.

“...I-It’s funny, I…” he mumbles into your neck, “I’m not sure I...” Halfway through his words fade out. It’s not meant to be a protest, but you can’t see it as anything else.

“Sorry, I couldn't help myself!” you quickly pull away. Joker mourns the loss. A prickling sensation lingers on the skin where you’d touched him. “There was a huge mix-up,” you explain. “I accidentally agreed to go shopping for the morning crew, and I told someone to tell you what happened but they couldn’t find you in your tent. I didn’t think you’d still be here!”

With a sheepish smile your attention turns to the trail of makeup scattered on the ground. “Anyway, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” you say as you pick up your things. “You know, Sergi’s treating us to dinner tonight. It’s nothing special, just a couple of our friends getting together for drinks. You probably know most of them already. Mike will be there! And Natalie too, obviously. I could let them know you’re coming and we’ll save you a seat?”

Joker doesn’t dwell on it for a second. You’ve invited him out for dinner — what do the little details matter? You will be there, the one person he adores above all else, and that’s enough for him. Sergi’s presence alone is excruciating enough to spoil it all, but he’d sit through it for you. He doesn’t even care that he never would’ve known about this get-together had you not felt guilty enough to extend an invite. This is a dinner date, no matter how you try to twist it. His heart skips a beat at the thought.

“A-Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! And don’t worry about Sergi. I mean, this sounds bad, but he probably won’t even notice you if you sit on the end… Honestly, I get nervous around him myself so I know how to…” —appease him. You can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. “...Well, you know. But we can keep each other company!”

You’re so full of contradictions, Joker muses. Thoughtful, but careless. Sympathetic, but selfish. You talk to him like a well-meaning friend and yet you would’ve been just as happy without him tonight. But that’s alright, it’s not your fault. You’re that way with everyone, he knows that. He just has to step up for you to take a more intimate notice of him.

“Can’t promise I’ll be much of a guest,” he says, lips twitching into a wry smile, “but I guess I could swing by, if you’re going and all…”

And with that your eyes light up and Joker is relieved to know he said the right thing. As you pull him in for a goodbye hug, he closes his eyes and lets himself fall into you, savoring the few seconds your touch belongs to him. When you move to break away, his arms tighten, not willing to let you go just yet. But then he catches himself and his eyes flash wide as a rabbit’s, afraid he’d wronged you in some way. You only smile, gently tucking a lock of red hair behind his ear.

“Okay, I’ve gotta go drop these off! Dinner’s at seven, so let’s meet at the carousel a quarter till? See you tonight!”

“See you,” he echoes, dazed, and finally unhooks his arms. He watches you wave before disappearing into the busy Hullabaloo crowd. Then he reaches up to trace his hair, mimicking your touch.

This is love. He’s sure of it. He feels as though a fairy had come and bestowed a kiss upon him before vanishing with the wind. One blink and you’re gone, just a trick of the eye, and yet his body feels like it’s on fire. What a cruel spell you left on him—he’s pinned in place with butterflies flitting around his stomach, a heart that’s beating louder than his thoughts, and a dull ache pulsing up his leg.

— ୨୧ —

Not forty minutes pass before Sergi hears about the talk you had with Joker. He is Hullabaloo’s shining star, after all, with eyes and ears everywhere. He finds you on the Moonlit River Bridge throwing crumbs for the birds, apparently having nothing better to do, but you would have picked an afternoon of utter boredom over Sergi’s company any day. He strolls over to you and leans against the rail.

“Excited for tonight?” he asks. You spot Natalie observing from afar. She gives you a shy wave of her fingers, but keeps her distance. That’s all the proof you need to know that Sergi isn’t here for some small talk. Your gut tells you to stay on your guard.

“Uh-huh…” you reply, warily. “Do you need something?”

Sergi chuckles, before he slings an arm over your shoulder and begins reeling you across the bridge. Your legs stumble to match his pace, but you don’t fight him. “Listen,” he says as he walks, “you know I love Natalie, right?”

“Yeah?” You can taste the whiskey in his breath, burning your nostrils.

“She’s the love of my life. True love. Say it with me—”

“True love,” you echo.

“True love, exactly. I would do anything for her. And that clown you’ve been talking to lately, I don’t trust him. I don’t like the way he looks at her. I don’t want him even near her. You get me?”

That’s what this is about! All the tension melts from your face. “Oh, don’t worry! He’ll be sitting with me.”

“I’m worried about my wife,” Sergi insists, laying a hand over his breast. “So you understand I have to speak up when you invite someone that might hurt her. To my dinner party of all things. Look, you’re good company. My boys like you, I like you. But I don’t want a mopey clown to spoil my appetite. Right? We want to have fun. And we can’t have fun with him around. Right?”

He keeps up an easy smile, but his eyes warn you to choose your next words wisely. The pit in your stomach drops all of a sudden. You crinkle your nose to escape the smell of his breath and duck under his arm.

“I can just get a separate table,” you say, smoothing out your tousled sleeves. “I really don’t think he’s hurting anyone. Plus Mike’s fond of him, you know, they go way back—”

“(Y/N), I’m saying if I see him there, I’ll blame you for his murder.”

“......”

Those words roll so effortlessly off his tongue, you almost don’t believe you heard him correctly. Your blood runs cold, heart nearly stopping in your chest. This is my circus, is what he’s so graciously reminding you, I’m your meal ticket, not Bernard, not anyone else. You’ll listen to me. Knowing Sergi, this kind of threat is no surprise, and likely an empty one at that, but the sudden switch-up still gives you a jolt. You don’t know how to answer. All you can do is take a few slow steps out of his reach. Some kind of rebuttal rises in your throat, but you choke it back down for a half-hearted “Mhm,” instead, then break into a brisk half-run.

A miffed scoff follows behind you. “Christ, do I have to worry about you fucking up the mood too?”

Again, you don’t respond. He changes his tune a second later:

“I was kidding, (Y/N), you know that! C’mon, it wasn’t that serious! We’re all family here! Tell ‘em, Nat.”

Only at the mention of Natalie do you glance back. She seemed to have sensed the tension and rushed over. She has a soothing hand placed on his back, while Sergi’s arms are spread wide in the air, as if he’s expecting you to rush back in for a hug and say, “Oh, Sergi, I was out of line! I won’t doubt you again!” The sight of it makes your blood boil. You fear you might turn foolish if you act on your rising temper, so you swallow it down and face forward again. Before you storm out of earshot, you catch the last of their conversation:

“Natalie,” Sergi warns, voice low. You guess it’s because she hesitated to back him up. You can almost envision her scrambling to find her words when she calls from afar, a little frantic:

“He didn’t mean it!” she says. “You’ll still show up tonight, won’t you?”

You don’t turn around for her this time. A part of you regrets it, because Natalie is a dear friend of yours, but you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of your lungs. You’re sure you’ll have the chance to speak to her later, at least. She’ll come to apologize on Sergi’s behalf once things quiet down, try to reassure you that he was just a little drunk, that “he’s not really like that.” That’s how it always goes.

Watching you run off, Sergi spits on the ground. “Psycho making me look bad,” he sneers. “You know I was joking, right?”

“Of course I do, Serge,” Natalie coos.

“Right. Everyone loves Sergio the Happy Clown. I make kids laugh. I make you laugh, too. This goddamned circus would’ve burned itself to the ground without us here to save it.”

— ୨୧ —

Joker has spent hours fussing in the mirror.

With one clean stroke, he lines white facepaint above his lip, smoothing right over his cleft. He tries to rub it in with a careful finger. Blend it too much and the scar shines through; too little and he’s just drawn himself a milk moustache. There’s apparently no in-between. This is much easier to cover up when he’s in a full face of show makeup. At a loss, he decides to scrap the white and try a bit of rouge instead.

All the products at his disposal are made for the stage, bright and vibrant and grossly obvious in any natural setting. But as he wipes off the rouge he used on his lips, he discovers it leaves a faint stain behind. Not too prominent, yet it still conceals what he needs it to. Perfect. He uses that technique to plump and even the shape of his mouth. Satisfied with the results, he tucks his hair behind his ear before setting down his mirror.

“Joker, are you there?”

Oh, he loves that voice. Sweeter than anything he’s heard in this world. It’s yours, of course. But you shouldn’t have come for at least another hour or so — and especially not to his tent. …Unless he lost track of time? He glances at the striped canvas wall, the other side of which you’re presumably standing.

That was your voice, right?

He nearly knocks over his vat of lip paint as he lunges for the pocket watch atop his bed. It’s not even six o’clock. So he reassures himself that it’s nothing important. You’re probably just here to update him about the carousel’s faulty calliope or something. That’s a cute habit of yours, he’s discovered: you’re always compelled to tell whoever you can about the smallest of breakthroughs, insisting you’d forget about them otherwise.

He stands up from his stool to greet you, only for a rush of doubt to hit him. Quickly he grabs his mirror and scrubs all the makeup off his lips before slinking over to the slit of his tent.

“E-Early, aren’t we?” he greets, a little meeker than he means to. “Well, not that I mind…”

A weak smile ghosts his face as he talks, expecting to see you mirror it. But the one waiting for him outside holds their brows knitted together, eyes wild and distracted, as if they’d just witnessed a murder. That’s a side of you he never thought he’d see in his lifetime. His smile falls.

“I didn’t mistake the time, did I…?”

“No,” you say. “Um, listen. I don’t think you should come tonight.”

Joker assumes you’ll elaborate, and when you don’t, it’s him that mirrors your knitted brows. He comes closer.

“What happened?”

“Sergi’s upset about it. And he’s serious, I mean it.”

His breath catches in his throat just at the sound of that name. It’s easy to fear the worst. “He didn’t lay a hand on you, ri—”

“No, nothing like that.” You’re quick to cut him off with a firm shake of your head. “I’m sorry I keep messing things up. And about my letter, it wasn’t that important to meet somewhere special or anything. I just wanted to say thank-you for always doing so much for me. I notice, you know.”

As heartfelt as you mean to sound, your tone is devoid of its usual passion. Clearly meeting “somewhere special” had been an important part to you. Joker can imagine what’s coming next: you’ll say that you’re still planning on going to that dinner, that you don’t want to worry anyone, that you’ll see him tomorrow. He doesn’t want to stop you from doing as you like. But at the same time, you’ve cast him aside once already, and he fears his chances at pursuing you whittle away the more this happens.

Sure enough — you start to turn around. “Anyway, I’m still going to go,” you tell him. “I think it’d put Sergi in a better mood if things go like they’re supposed to.”

Joker doesn’t hesitate. He latches onto your arm, his hand quivering slightly.

“You don’t want to,” he points out. “(Y/N), forgive me for being blunt, but you’re shaken up an awful lot… Why put yourself through all that?”

You don’t deny it. “It’s not like I’ll be alone with him.”

“Not tonight,” he presses. “Not tonight. Stay here for a while. I-I’d be glad for the company, and… I’ll figure something out with Sergi. You can take it easy…”

You search Joker’s face. He’s not looking at you, his expression uncertain, gaze lost to the dust on the ground. The pull to stay grows stronger the longer you wait. It’s a tempting offer, and finally the weariness in your bones makes the decision for you.

#mama im in love with a clown #identity v #idv x reader #idv joker x reader #weeping clown x reader #weeping clown #idv joker

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hanasnx · 9 months

Text

that girl

PART ONE ✩ PART TWO WORD COUNT: 0.9k WARNINGS: f!reader | suggestive | fake relationship | love triangle

Ever since you'd first started hanging around JJ MAYBANK the other Kooks of Figure Eight have voiced their concern. Every word and every insult has been thrown around to describe him so as to convince you not to "waste your time with him." The mouth of RAFE CAMERON is especially foul. "I'm jus' looking out for you, that's all." he'd insist, and he's shown his concern by towing you along with a harsh grip on your upper arm.

It's no secret that Rafe's interest in you is selfish. He's told you in many ways that you belong with someone from your side of the island, not a delinquent who'll end up just like his slum father. Of course, he hasn't explicitly specified who exactly you should have you eyes on in Figure Eight.

There's something about the way Ward pushes you together, as if you're good for Rafe. Not just Ward, but Sarah and Wheezie love you. They cling onto your arms and tell you about how they wish you were part of the family already, grossly misinterpreting your relationship with their brother. Sarah rolls her eyes at how Rafe talks when he's around you, how he's on edge and slightly more neurotic because he "likes you so much it's embarrassing." Playful and innocent, yet they put you at unease, teaching you to suspect Rafe's oncoming confession.

It's gotten to the point where you're afraid to be alone with him. That he'll confess his feelings for you, or respond poorly when you reject him. Actively avoiding him whenever you're in the same vicinity because the pressure is just too much. However, he's determined, and when he corners you inside at the Midsummer's, you run through a list of excuses at a record pace.

"... and I just think it's time we go out—"

You interrupt him with possibly the worst option on the wheel your brain had spun. "Rafe, I have a boyfriend." Blurting it out in a flinch, readying for his inevitable meltdown. He's not known for being stable. An indignant, knowing glint flashes in his eyes as he refocuses on you, taken aback at the prospect of you belonging to someone else.

"Well, who?"

You're reminded of the back of JJ's head when you'd spotted him sneaking in earlier. "C'mon, you should know already." In an attempt to be lighthearted, you push at his arm but he's immovable and unresponsive, glancing at your contact as if it's unwanted. Embarrassed, you drop your arm, and give him a shrug, "It's JJ." you say in a forced laugh. The silence is killing you as he processes your words, lips pressed into a thin line. Tentatively, you crawl across the wall, inching out of the space he caged you in. "I should... get back to him. Excuse me." your tone feathers out, and you escape, power-walking back to the outside where people are. You leave him staring at the wall with his knuckle to his mouth in thought.

You crane your neck, searching bobbing heads for the one of familiar blonde hair. Miraculously, you spot him on the dancefloor, rounding Sarah. Hiking up your dress, you hurry to his location, and usher him aside. "Sorry, Sarah, be right back." you assure her.

"Hey, easy, you'll get it crinkled." JJ scolds you, straightening out his waiter get-up indignantly. Without thinking, you hand claps over his mouth and he furrows his brows at you, scanning your figure.

"I don't have time to explain, but I need you to be my fake boyfriend—"

The crease in his brows deepen at the notion, minutely shaking his head under the pressure of your palm. "Uh-uh!"

"Please, JJ, I need your help—"

He smacks your hand off, "Are you kidding me?" he questions, too loud for comfort, and to evade making a scene you drag him further away while shushing him.

"You don't understand, just for a little bit!" you beg, clutching onto his clothes as he continuously pushes you off, intent to back up and away. You chase him.

"No, no way, princess. You know what the white knights of Figure Eight'll do to me if they find out a dick from the Cut is your sweetheart? I've got enough heat on me as is." If it were under different circumstances, maybe, but his friends have assured him the less attention on him the better. Not while they're in the middle of a treasure hunt, and less eyes means less competition. Certainly not something he can disclose with you, and you hound after him as he furthers from the centroid of the party. A door opens, and Rafe comes into your view. You jump into overdrive, diving onto JJ to pull him out of Rafe's peripheral. "The hell—?"

"That's Rafe, that's Rafe. God, please, JJ. If you just pretend you're my boyfriend in front of Rafe maybe he'll leave me alone?" You upturn your brows, begging him while his back is to the wall. Bewildered, he stares at you a second before looking around the corner. He licks his lips. The chance to get back at Rafe psychologically sounds pretty good right now, and the way you throw yourself at him ain't bad either. He locks eyes with you again, giving you a once-over in your pretty Midsummer dress. "Please?" you sigh. "JJ. Please?"

His nostrils flare when he sucks in a breath, pursing his lips. "Damnit. Damnit, alright. Enough with those eyes, are you kidding me? I'll do it."

You expel a breath in relief, tossing yourself at him to wind your arms around his neck. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you,"

"Alright, alright." He peels you off of him. "Don't get all happy with me, you've gotta remember I make the rules here."

You shouldn't have agreed to his rules so readily. Like an idiot, you had told him you're down for whatever it takes and he took that seriously. Now you're subjected to his every whim. A small part of you deems it's worth it, especially seeing Rafe's face after JJ made out with you and grabbed your ass for the first time in front of him.

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violetasteracademic · 1 month

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Hi , I want to ask if you think Lucien was always meant to have a rejected mating bond with an Archeron sister ?

Hello lovely anon!

So.... this is a tough question to answer- because where does always begin in the writing process?

Does it begin in the first draft? Does it begin in the wild prophetic visions you have at three am that you want to scribble down but you don't because you are trying to sleep, but still, it lingers? Does it begin in a beat sheet, a plot outline, a Pinterest board?

I'm not sure if SJM always intended a rejected mating bond. To be completely honest, I go back and forth. I think that Sarah has let a lot of things slip that she wrote that were never going to even be submitted to her editor on a first draft (like the famed Nesta/Cassian/Azriel batwich, RIP and I'm still waiting on SJM to write a threesome). And yet when she shares those things, people almost consider it canon and analyze it to death and use it to prove certain things. At some point, she probably really genuinely considered making Lucien and one of the sisters a couple, but I can't say for sure where in the process that died.

I remember seeing Emily Henry share on her stories recently an addition to her "RIP" character list- as in characters that she had written that literally did not even make it into the book. The first draft of Beach Read was actually a love triangle, involving some local guy who owns an ice cream business or something of the sort who is also trying to romance January. I can see what she might have been trying to do there- give January two options reflecting two sides of her. Ice Cream Steve (not sure if those details are correct but we'll go with it) would have served as a perfect foil to Grave Digging, Bleak Literary Fiction Author Gus. But ultimately, Ice Cream Steve did not even make it to the book. Do we treat him as real? Do we wonder if he may have been a better fit for January? Do we analyze what this means for January and Gus?

I'll get a little bit into the technicality of what developmental editing is and how it can completely reshape a story, erase characters, create characters, and shift their storylines, but what I do know is this- the function of Lucien being assigned an Archeron sister, any Archeron sister, is completely clear: To win him over to the Night Court as an ally and embolden him to help Feyre get away from Tamlin. This is absolutely critical. Lucien's role in the story since this hasn't developed romantically because he is mated to one of the Archeron sisters, it has spun off in a new direction plot wise with the Band of Exiles, Vassa, Koschei, and the human queens- which also develops a tentative relationship between himself and his brother Eris again, with his mating bond hovering in the background. However, his mating bond began this new direction, and it wouldn't have existed without it:

Lucien would not have left if it were not for the mating bond. I believe that is the element that was always true. Lucien's mating bond, be it with Elain, or Nesta as originally planned, was always going to be a plot device. And I can answer where I believe the story of a love triangle at the very least began its groundwork- which is A Court of Mist and Fury. I personally think that as of publishing ACOMAF Lucien and Elain were already done, fizzling out in the developmental editing process, and Azriel and Elain were endgame, but I'm open to those who see it differently.

Before we move on, here are the different types of editors:

A development editor basically edits the story at large. They focus on elements like theme, character development, plot holes, ECT. When dealing with a series, often times an author will provide a detailed packet to their developmental editor before doing dev runs. This is because the developmental editor needs to understand where the story is headed. They need to understand what needs to be appropriately foreshadowed, what themes to highlight, and keep their eye on the big picture so that everything comes to a well developed, emotionally charged, and thematically satisfying conlcusion.

What is clear to me is that Azriel and Elain were being developed emotionally and thematically in ACOMAF:

These are the types of passages that focus on the big picture. Before Feyre's sisters have become Fae, Feyre is musing on what her sisters would be like in Velaris. She thinks about how Nesta would like it, despite herself, and become fast friends with Amren (true) and how Elain would like Velaris, but she would cling to Azriel for peace and quiet. True. Feyre considers how handsome Elain and Azriel would be together if he ever stopped loving Mor.

Developmentally- what is the purpose of this? It's the same book that Lucien and Elain's mating bond is revealed, so why muse on Elain and Azriel as a couple if Azriel could get over Mor, which he now has because of Elain? Meanwhile, Elain is engaged. Feyre doesn't say a word about that. She sees how her sister would want to be with someone like Azriel, and Feyre doesn't even think twice about Graysen because Azriel is right for her sister. This isn't Feyre being an unreliable narrator. Everything else in this passage came to be true.

These are the types of moments developmental editors hone in on to make sure theme and foreshadowing are strong and successful.

Of course this is already after the beautiful moments Azriel and Elain have together- Azriel getting shy and self conscious before dropping one of the most beautiful lines in all the books about being born hearing the song of the wind. Elain already being able to read Azriel- looking to him and smiling and finding comfort and assessing his countenance to see if everything is going okay.

If I'm a developmental editor, and I wanted it to be really clear why Lucien and Elain were right for each other- why would I keep all of this in? Why tie Elain and Azriel together thematically and emotionally? So again, this is where the question "where does always begin" comes into play. Did SJM realize in her first draft that Nesta and Lucien weren't going to work, so she switched to Elain, only to realize that Elain and Lucien don't have chemistry either? Was it after a developmental edit? I can't say for sure on that end. Maybe ACOMAF truly was just setting up a love triangle, but personally I think Elain and Az were always endgame as of the books being published, and trying to explore Elain and Lucien as a couple probably died out before the final draft of ACOMAF and SJM realized Lucien still needed to be mated to one of the sisters, thus ideas about the rejected mating bond started stirring instead and then were hit HARD in ACOWAR. I can see the argument that the door was being kept open for Lucien in ACOMAF, though I personally think Lucien's mating bond reveal was strictly a plot device. But what is extremely clear is that as of ACOWAR the path was set in stone.

Again- these are the things where, not to take credit away from Sarah, a developmental editor really comes into play. If Sarah is going, okay- who is Lucien going to end up with? Nesta? No, it can't be Nesta, even though that was originally the plan. Elain? Maybe, it could be Elain. What does that look like? Maybe it was Lucien and Elain in the pitch packet. Then a developmental editor goes, okay- where are we headed? What are the themes? What are the character arcs and growth we are looking for?

Then we move on to ACOWAR, and both of them were developed to have a theme of choice threaded into their interactions:

What these moments make clear is that the mating bond makes it impossible for Elain and Lucien to get what they truly want out of love with each other- for someone to love and choose them beyond the circumstances placed on them. Lucien wants this just as much as Elain does. They are now thematically connected in that way- in wanting to be chosen above all, despite everything. That's where this Facebook comment makes soooo much sense:

Nesta didn't have any growth or healing to offer Lucien, because thematically there was not really anything there between them. Nesta and Cassian also had this instant, intense connection that could not be ignored or played slowly. Nesta also didn't lose her fiance, she herself saying she had as little at stake in Velaris as she did on the other side of the wall. Nesta had anger and resentment. Elain had loss, which on the surface could thematically match Lucien, but then we dig deeper to learn that they aren't only needing to heal from the loss of love, they are needing to heal from the loss of choice.

Elain was engaged to a man who hates fae. And Elain was always going to become Fae.

Lucien had his history and story with Jesminda since book one. He thought Jesminda was his mate. The woman who loved him for him, not because he was a High Lord's son or because of any other High Fae customs Lucien rejects. This is where you see the development. Lucien and Elain could have worked on an incredibly surface level, both of them having lost their first loves, but deeper themes revealed themselves that showed they mirror each other in a way that doesn't make them right for each other, but that allows them to face what needs to be faced: being strong and brave enough to choose for themselves instead of letting the world control them.

For Elain and Lucien to have made sense together thematically, everything should have been reversed. Elain should have been mated to Azriel, and then Elain and Lucien should have met somehow and fallen in love, and the choosing each other above all, love trumping even a mating bond, Lucien being chosen and loved without question, without hesitation, would have belonged to them.

But again, without the mating bond, Lucien and Elain wouldn't even have met in the first place and Lucien would not have left Spring. So where does that leave us? The mating bond as a plot device. It was literally required to move the story forward, but thematically is anticlimactic for both parties in terms of the kind of love they want for themselves.

So- was Lucien always going to have a mating bond rejection? Probably not. But where in the years long process did all of this reveal itself? Only Sarah knows that. But I think what is quite clear is that it was always going to happen if we start from what is published in the books between him and Elain.

I think it's very possible that SJM did really intend for Lucien to wind up with one of the sisters. But if you've ever gone through the writing process yourself, you realize pretty quickly how many things fall apart and don't work/make sense/are actually anti-thematic to the characters you've created. Maybe she'll tell us one day exactly when Elain and Lucien fell apart, just like Nesta and Lucien fell apart. But we do have to keep in mind that an author like SJM, who was able to sell a trilogy all at once, probably had to have at least a 25 page packet outlining the trilogy and it's development. So- was it Nesta and Lucien in the pitch packet? Was it Elain and Lucien, because even while structuring a pitch she realized Nesta and Lucien would never work while outlining, but thought Elain and Lucien would? Only to discover Elain and Azriel connecting while drafting ACOMAF?

Writing a book is years of plotting, outlining, writing, rewriting, editing, writing again, and sometimes what you come up with is unrecognizable from the plan. And considering SJM contracted a trilogy, she would have pitched in pretty significant detail what would happen in book two and book three. We'll see what Sarah does and does not choose to reveal!

I think that's everything! I love getting these questions from you guys. I still have a cue in my inbox, and I am sorry it's kind of random when my inspiration strikes and I have a clear answer and can quickly think of the passages and ideas! But I will try to get to my older ones that have been sitting for a minute, I promise!

What do you guys think? I know everyone has different thoughts on this and I love to hear them!

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elriel endgame #azriel x elain

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marrkopolo · 4 months

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A Wise Man Once Said

Precious lost its ring in the scrap yard with no metal detector the lavender pussywillows hide the trolls

Hong Kong wheel of fate UW spinned it first Knights of Templar slaughtered at a mass concert of bloody crimson tide

Tithe on a full moon for 2x the glee The crash of waves against the rocks, like bodies slapping against each other during sex blood shooting through veins Hot heat, sticky, in Iceland together I too, know of these lands

Tax season says the King! blue knots on a tent red food buckets hung like death #four crosses in a foreign land alone is no place to exist

An underwater welder lying on the blue tarp, is like a union of troops led by a zebra.

Flying flags at Disney welcome to the world of water failed regret, emptiness and betrayal tattered flags get left to rot sew it in with the others together and the quilt becomes strong and scintillating

Crush you with your own history headless horseman and halo hair dark horse donuts This is as good as it gets!

Red-lipped lipstick cracked porcelain face You can't hold a candle to this

King of the Hill My pool stick is clean now true Kings swim in the swimming pool together King of the Hill Jack of Spades went with the stolen crown and robots learn to volunteer.

Pledge to a sanitizer salute to a gong beat your chest it's loud and strong Love at first sight or sounds like a good idea Wisdom of the crowd or individual motivation?

A rabbi with the yachts Fortified lamps sees all UFOs, telekinesis and even explosive lingerie. One denarius for a days work Why they get more? Stand while another sits. Then switch roles and you'll see why.

What sees with three eyes? The melatonin-like parental bond, third eye awoken, Moksha.

Insane Luke has a scar red dots that kill. Baldie takes biosphere crown the bald animal is cutting loose again Is doraphilia still fun to you?

I attempt to transform but the tea is too strong my hands have small heart Lying down a tiny raindrop falls into my ear swirling into the cochlea My whole world has changed!

Eczema stealing make-up twice North Face go north Racks of weapons are not enough this time

My mask is old but gold bars had paved my fortunate path …a fortunate path(whispering)

Tik Tok vault one exit is enough The eagle has docked into spray-painted madness. Not to fret I hear a falcon cry Jump when the law is bent it will help you fly

Six shooter Six pack 3 sewers 3 fires Twin-spirit 1 spacesuit

Mountain top king of the hill climb Nepal Hajj pilgrimage princess climbs like a pirate piggyback down the wedding aisle

Opposites attract

One fell to its doom down the abyssal void towards the bottom and a ghost ship lost in the Bermuda Triangle with Pandoras Box Lazarus

Gunpowder in shoes Footprints in the sand Jesus did not tap

Short and tall fat and thin Lookalikes Soundalikes Smellalikes the hunt of touch and taste What double currencies create the ultimate Yin Yang effect? AI said to cure pride and competition, exchange abacus rubik-cubed calculators instead of cash.

Echoes and reverberation voices become lightning WATTS= AMPS X VOLTS

Float your payloads into the troposphere with skinny vertical structures of contained saltwater Heat a planet with a satellite asteroid belt

A call for help QR codes morse code gun flare smoke signal what are your coordinates? R-E-B-O-R-N

Some ancients say gunpowder only made flee then gun made to kill Oil spills from bronze age to silicon chips flood the market cut the mall castle cake in half Zangief on a segway You win.Perfect.

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infin1ty-garden · 2 months

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GOOD LUCK, BABE

✧. ┊ summary: love triangle where the two love intrests get together instead ✧. ┊ pairing: chani kynes x fem! reader, past! paul atreides x fem! reader ✧. ┊ warnings: *dune part 2 spoilers* ✧. ┊ word count: 657 ✧. ┊ author note: canon divergent obvi

masterlist. & 100 follower celebration

From a young age you'd been betrothed to Paul Atraides. The two of you had met on a multitude of occasions your families organised. You could even say love started to bloom between you. Then everything changed when the Atraides acquired Arrakis.

Paul became distant and after a few weeks of no contact. You decided to visit Arrakis. Your Father informed Leto Atraides of your arrival, he'd said they'd gladly welcome you. No one anticipated that would be the day house Attaides died.

Your ship had been knocked out of the sky and landed in the never ending desert. Your outfit is not fit for the conditions of the cruel desert. You accepted that you'd die on Arrakis. Would it be killed by the heat or Sandworms? Your guards decided it would be best to stay in the ship until help arrived.

You doubted that help would come, you probably cooked alive in the ship before that would happen. To your surprise your betrothed came to your rescue. You've never hugged someone as tight as him right now. Glad to see he was alive. After days of convincing yourself he was dead.

His mother was also with him both wearing still suits. "You look beautiful," you laughed. "Sure," you noticed that you were being watched as did your guards. "Princess get back."

"No, no. Wait! They're with me," he switched to your native language. "Please trust me." You ordered your guards to lower their weapons.

"He's bringing more outsiders in," Shishakli nodded along with Chani's statement. "His betrothed to my understanding," this shocked Chani. "She is adjusting better than the rest." Chani felt bad for the girl, Paul had been flirting with her before she arrived. He was anything but a faithful man.

Maybe that's why she wanted to be in her presence so often. Pity, that must be it. When she wasn't out with the rest of the Fremen, she was spending her time in the company of the girl. Her stories of her home planet astonished her. Chani started to look forward to talking to her everyday.

Shishakli noticed and wouldn't stop teasing her about it. "You like talking to the outsider now."

"Yeah, what about it," Shishakli shrugged and changed the subject. Chani got closer to the girl and one night they exchanged their fears, hopes and dreams. A feeling started to bloom, one which Chani recognised as love but she was to marry Paul and probably forget her life on Arrakis.

Chani chose to ignore these feelings and pretend they aren't there. They had to leave north. Chani made sure to stay close to the girl as she had yet to fully master riding the Shai-Hulud. It was a difficult journey through the storm. At one point Chani saw Y/N's grip loosen, almost falling off but Chani grabbed her before that could happen.

Once they arrived at their destination, Chani scolded her and pointed out where to improve for the next time. The truth being Chani was hiding her worry. She is getting too attached to the girl. She can see that the relationship between Paul and her is growing stronger and stronger. It's only a matter of time before they leave.

"Chani, are you awake?" She'd heard that sweet voice ask her. She got up and opened her tent, letting her in. "What is it?" A sour expression was present on her face. One that Chani would do anything for to see be replaced with a smile. "I can't marry Paul. I know it's my duty to my house and family but he has changed."

Tears start filling up her eyes. "I d-don't know what to make of it." Chani gently dried her tears with the thumb of her finger. You don't need to waste your water for him. Her heart couldn't bear you crying over him. She wanted to wash all your worries away. "Marry me?"

Thanks for reading!

#dune x reader #dune x you #paul atreides x reader #paul atredies x reader #paul atredies x you #chani x reader #chani kynes #x reader #x gn y/n #x gender neutral y/n #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #canon divergence

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rollingsins · 1 year

Text

three's a crowd, part eight

summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au.

pairing: emma myers x reader, jenna ortega x reader

warnings: language, a sprinkle of angst.

word count: 3.1k

a/n: penultimate chapter, thanks all for being patient! finish line in sight!

For the first time in weeks, the set is peaceful.

No more are the slight jabs from Emma to Jenna. They don’t really talk much, but when they do it’s calm. Emma doesn’t ignore you, she’s even tentatively friendly. She strikes up small talk between takes, joins you and the rest of the cast for game nights and nights out.

She doesn’t flash about her relationship with Johnna - not like she once did. She isn’t trying to hurt you anymore, or make you jealous. She’s just existing.

It pangs somewhere deep down.

The fact she doesn’t care enough about you to try and affect your mood anymore.

But then you remember she’s happy.

Gone are the surly glares between takes. Gone are the nights spent hate-fucking you into the mattress. Gone is the doubt behind her eyes, the brief glances of insecurity when she’d looked between you and Jenna.

Now she’s enraptured in Johnna and she looks happy.

Happier than she was when she was with you, as much as it pains you to admit it.

She’s smiling at you now, just as the director yells cut.

She drops her phone to her lap and nudges your shoulder with her elbow.

“Come over for drinks tonight?” She’s asking, eyes sparkling, “I think Hunter wants to play Uno again.”

Hunter famously always wants to play Uno.

He hasn’t won once. But it didn’t stop him drawing out a pack of cards the minute he saw people gathered.

“Alright.” You say. Uno didn’t sound bad. There’d be enough people to keep you from staring at Johnna and Emma the entire night. Georgie would be there. Maybe even Jenna.

Your heart flips at the thought.

Seeing Jenna makes you nervous.

Things are weird - up in the air. You still have no idea what she’d said to Emma on the balcony, and each day that passes the dots you join in your own head get worse and worse.

“She’s not worth both of us fighting over her,” Says fictionalized Jenna 1.

“Let’s both dump her and teach her a lesson,” Says fictionalized Jenna 2.

The other possibilities pass through your mind fleetingly. Maybe nothing had been said, and Emma had just decided herself she was through with you. There’s another possibility - one you don’t even stop to consider.

The one you want the most…

But you don’t let yourself dwell. Doubtful Jenna would even want to be friends, anymore. Not after all that’s happened. She hasn’t reached out at all in the last two weeks. Hasn’t hovered, hasn’t done much of anything.

And the fact that she won’t tell you what was said that night seems to be the final nail in the coffin.

Georgie sidles over, pulls you from your intrusive thoughts, a stupid grin on his face.

“Coming to Uno tonight?” He asks, and you nod, peering suspiciously at the look on his face.

“What’s up with you?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

Georgie shrugs, “I’m just happy,” He says.

“Okay,” You say, “Why?”

“Everything’s good now. We’re playing Uno like old times, love is in the air…” He trails off, raises his eyebrows at you.

“You got a new girlfriend or something?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

Georgie rolls his eyes.

“No. But you will. Soon.”

You avert your gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You say.

“I heard she’s coming,” He says, as if he didn’t hear you, “To Uno.”

You hum. Try and brush past it.

He doesn’t let you.

“Come on,” He groans, “I thought we were getting somewhere. It’s been weeks since you and Emma broke up-“

“Two weeks,” You correct, “And we didn’t break up, I was dumped.”

“Who cares,” Georgie says, “There’s no point in wallowing. Other fish in the sea and all.”

He wags his eyebrows.

You stare at him, unimpressed.

“Jenna doesn’t want to date me.” You say, “She doesn’t even want to talk to me lately. It’s like she’s avoiding me or something.”

Georgie groans.

“She’s not avoiding you, YN,” He says, sounding aggravated, “She’s trying to give you space so you have time to get over the breakup. I told her it was a bad idea.”

Your stomach churns, uncomfortably.

“She doesn’t want to be your rebound or something,” He continues, running a hand through his hair, “When you two eventually get together, she wants it to be because of how you feel about her, not about how you feel about Emma.”

The thought of being with Jenna is strange. Like some far distant dream, that could have once been yours.

But you’re done with dreams.

The moment Emma had dumped you, you’d been boiling in the fiery pits of reality. To dream is to hope, and you have none of that left in you.

You’re too tired.

“We’re not getting together,”’ You tell him, and you sound a little sad because you are sad, “Things are just- too complicated.”

Georgie frowns.

“Don’t say that,” He says, sounding put out.

“It’s not meant to be,” You say, “If we were meant to be together, things wouldn’t have been so messy. I should have picked her but I didn’t. Now it’s over.”

Jenna’s standing over with the directors, deep in conversation. She’s dressed in her Wednesday outfit, double braids flowing down her shoulders.

She looks beautiful.

She looks out of reach. And she’ll stay that way. You’ve already put the nail in that coffin.

“You get in your own way, sometimes, you know that?” Georgie says.

“I’m aware.” You say.

“So stop it,” Georgie urges, “Go talk to her. I’m sure she’d love that. I’m not saying you have to ask her on a date or anything, but don’t close yourself off to the idea-”

“I’m moving to a plot of land in Colorado,” You tell him, “And I’m never going to be in a relationship again.”

It’s better for everyone that way. You, a loose canon, safely confined in some faraway place where you could never fire through anyone else’s hearts ever again.

Georgie peers over at you.

“Uh-huh.” He says, as though he doesn’t believe it.

Hunter loses Uno.

Again.

He’s too good-natured to care. He makes you all play a few rounds, before he gets distracted by Joy waving a tequila bottle in his face.

Your mood - although you’re trying to mask it - is a little glum.

Georgie tries to perk you up, but you’ve reached the depressive part of your breakup, and there isn’t much he can do. He flits between you and Jenna, as if trying to act as the bridge that brings the two of you together but it doesn’t work.

Jenna’s on edge, you’re depressed and eventually he just gives up. Wanders off to the kitchen to pour himself another Vodka Soda.

Emma and Johnna are sitting next to each other, quietly chatting. They’re not touching, but you know it’s just for you. You can tell by the way they’re angled towards each other. Emma’s fingers keep jerking slightly, like she wants to reach out and touch Johnna.

But she doesn’t. Because she knows you’re watching.

It’s sweet, kind of, and it makes you want to down the rest of Hunter’s tequila and fall asleep in his bathtub.

Or - throw yourself off the balcony.

The bathtub is occupied - Georgie’s passed out again - so you excuse yourself to the balcony, suck in the cool air of the night and try hard not to think about anything.

You’d be home soon, with your friends, with your family. You’d forget about this place, these people.

You’d forget about your little summer of shooting a show and breaking hearts and feeling the worst pain you’d ever felt in your life.

It’d be like a dream. A horrible, awful, fever dream you’d never want to have again.

The sound of the door sliding open draws your attention.

You assume it’s Georgie, awoken from his bathtub nap and on a quest to see how much he can annoy you in the span of his next conscious hours.

But it’s not him.

It’s Jenna.

She hovers by the door, hand gripping it a little too tight. Her eyes are a little guarded, she tilts her head and offers you the smallest smile.

“Hey.” She says, “Mind if I join you?”

You blink, suddenly feeling foggy. And mesh of booze and emotions finally spilling over. Your heart leaps at the sight of her, thuds so embarrassingly loud you’re sure she can hear it.

“Of course.” You say.

She nods, but doesn’t move over too quickly. She’s had a bit to drink too, you can tell by the red flush on her cheeks.

Awkwardly, you grip the railing of the balcony, and look out into the night sky. The stars sparkle back at you, pretty, but Jenna’s eyes shine brighter than all of them. They’re watching you, no pretense. She’s staring, unabashed.

It makes the tips of your ears redden.

“How are you?” She asks, voice even. She joins you against the railing, rests her arms against the metal, head tilted towards you.

Awful, you want to answer, but you don’t. For her, you can pretend.

“Fine,” You say. You play with the hem of your shirt, “How are you?”

“Okay.” Is all she says.

You chew your lip. Listen to the sounds of the party inside, raging on. You tilt your head back, wonder if anyone has seen the two of you out here. As if it’s some illicit little gathering, and not just the two of you staring at the stars and not knowing what to say to each other.

Georgie has seemingly awoken from his slumber - he and Joy are chugging beers by the sofa. Hunter has a lampshade over his eyes, four tequila’s deep. Emma and Johnna are kissing, softly in the corner. You stare for a moment. Something washes over you, but it isn’t jealousy.

You don’t know what it is.

FOMO, maybe.

You take a long sip of your drink and draw your attention back to Jenna.

She looks beautiful, as ever. Minimal makeup. She’s dressed in a pair of cargo pants and an old sweater. She’s looking at you, bottom lip between her teeth.

Like she’s nervous.

Her eyes dart over to where you’d been looking. They’ve parted now, but Emma’s still holding her hand. She’s smiling, laughing at something Johnna’s said.

“They seem happy,” Jenna says.

“They do.”

Jenna fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Emma deserves to be happy,” She says, voice soft.

You shoot another look at Emma. Her pretty smile, wide blue eyes. The FOMO is back. You wish she’d been enough for you. You wish you could have made her happy, instead of whatever the fuck you made her. Jealous. Insecure. Hateful. Vengeful.

But she’s back now, sweet Emma. Happy Emma. Not-in-a-relationship-with-you Emma.

They way it maybe should have always been.

“She does.” You say.

Jenna looks over at you. You look away, not wanting to meet her gaze. You’d forgotten the way she stares. No shame, not a care if it made you uncomfortable. She’s like a human x-ray, trying to decipher your emotions with a blink of her eyes.

“So do you,” Jenna says.

You fall quiet. Dancing Queen blares over the speakers. You watch as Hunter grabs Emma and Johnna, drags them laughing over to an impromptu dance floor.

This is what you’d thought being a part of this cast would be like. Fun. Laughter.

Instead, you got heartbreak and depression. And no one to blame but yourself.

“Georgie told me you’re planning on moving to Colorado and becoming a nun.”

You frown. Finally look over to her.

“I don’t think that’s exactly what I said.” You say.

Jenna smiles, a little. She brushes the hair out of her eyes.

“You’d be a cute nun,” She offers, “But I don’t think it’s your calling.”

You hum.

“You’re just saying that because you want to get into my Tunic.” You say.

She snorts.

She lifts her drink to her lips, eyes sparkling. You relax slightly. A risky joke, maybe, but it had been enough to break the tension.

“Georgie also told me I should stop giving you space,” She says, quietly. “I think his exact words were ‘Get up off the ground and fight.’”

“Sounds like Georgie,” You say.

Your heart is back to trying to pound itself out of your chest. The blood rushes to your ears the way it always does when you have conversations like this. Your eyes drop to your glass, suddenly very interested in your ice cubes.

Her stare doesn’t relent.

“He said you thought it was too messy.”

“It is too messy.” You say.

She’s quiet for a moment. You half think she’s going to shrug and head back inside.

It’s what she’d do if she were smart. It’s what she’d do if you got what you deserved. But she doesn’t. She leans slightly against the railing, edging only slightly closer to you. Her shoulders brush your bare arm.

The tiny touch makes your palms sweat. You gulp back the lump in your throat.

“Just because it’s messy doesn’t mean it isn’t right.” She says.

It’s getting harder to pretend you don’t want to look at her. Your head tilts up, slightly to meet her gaze.

She’s biting her lip. Her brown eyes are wide, earnest, like she’s trying to convince you of something.

You’ve not seen her like this before, so unguarded. She’s careful with every word, like she’s on a tightrope, one wrong sentence will send her toppling into a pit of rejection.

She swallows.

“I know you just ended it with Emma only a couple of weeks ago and I don’t expect anything. I’m not trying to swoop in like… a crow on a dead carcass or anything, I just-” She trails off, “I don’t know. I think we’re like- meant to be together or something.”

You blink.

For the first time all night she averts her gaze, as if her own words have suddenly made her shy.

You look at her for a moment. Bashful smile on her lips but worry in her eyes. Like you’ll reject her.

As if she’s not saying exactly what you want to hear.

You open your mouth, then close it again. The blood rushing to your head has made you a little dizzy, her intense gaze not helping. You fumble, slightly, trying to find the right words.

Yes, you idiot! Scream your brain, tell her yes, you’re meant to be and you’ll have a dog and a farm and raise five kids together in Colorado.

But there’s something else.

Something you want to know. Something you’ve been dying to know.

“Is that what you told Emma?” You ask, tilting your head, heart in your throat, “That night on the balcony? You told her you and I were meant to be together?”

She pauses. Something in her eyes flickers. She sucks in her breath slightly, and now she’s the one of edge.

“I told her- she asked me-“

She’s stumbling over her words. It’s strange. You’ve never seen her this un-composed. Her eyes dart away, like she can’t look you in the eyes when she tells you.

“I told her I was falling in love with you.”

You blink.

“Oh.”

She lets out a shaky breath, looks into your eyes, hers mournful. The bass thumps, though you’re not entirely sure it’s not her heartbeat.

She swallows.

“Emma asked me. She straight up asked and I couldn’t lie, YN,” She says, voice quiet. She’s blinking a lot. Wetting her lips every few seconds, “And I know it’s why she broke up with you and I’m sorry that I cost you your relationship-”

“No you’re not,” You say. You lean over the edge of the balcony railing, voice calm, “You’re not sorry she dumped me. You’re glad she dumped me.”

She blinks.

“YN-”

“It’s okay,” You say, “You can admit it. I’m not angry.”

She just stares back at you.

“I think you did everyone a favor,” You say. Your gaze draws back to Emma and Johnna, cuddled up on the sofa, “I mean - they’re happy. Johnna makes her happier than I ever could.”

“And you and me?” She asks, after a moment. Her voice is weighted, only a little hopeful, like she’s trying to manage her expectations.

You pause for a painful moment.

“I should have picked you,” You murmur, “That night by the pool. I felt it and I got scared. I should have picked you.”

Something flickers in her eyes. Panic. She blinks it away before you can be sure. She seizes your hands with her own, tugs you a little closer to her.

“So pick me now,” Jenna says, voice urgent, “I know you feel it too. It’s like fate. Or the stars all aligning or some other bullshit I don’t believe in. Except I believe in it now because I’ve felt it. I’ve felt you.”

She’s close, so close you can make out the freckles dotted along her nose. Her eyes are desperate, her grip on you is tight.

You don’t speak, a moment. The music hums heavy, the sounds of laughter coming from the apartment. There’s a screech of laughter. Someone calls out Hunter’s name. But you don’t pay them any mind.

Your eyes are on Jenna. Jenna and her pretty eyes, Jenna and her constellation of freckles. Jenna and her vanilla body wash. Jenna and her lips, so plump, so red. So kissable.

Jenna.

Her eyes are dipping down, between your lips and your eyes and then back to your lips. Like a magnet, or a moth to a flame.

Her eyes are so dark, impossibly wide, and her lips part only slightly. Her hands brush yours. She’s looking at you like she wants to pin you against the balcony railing and never let you go. Your heart thumps.

You want her just as bad. Colorado be damned, Emma be damned, single life be damned.

All you want is her.

You’d tell her, but you’re not given the chance.

The full weight of her body hits you hard. She lurches at you like she can’t hold back anymore. Her hands tangle in your hair, seizing your neck between her fingertips so she can pull you down to her lips.

Your eyes flutter closed. She isn’t soft. She’s needy and charged and desperate. Her hands knot through your long hair, keeping you in place. You’ve only tasted her like this a few times but it feels just as wonderful as the first. She moans slightly against your mouth, all breathy gasps and quiet groans from just kissing. It makes you ache. You want her so bad you can hardly breathe.

Her tongue slips between your lips as she pushes you against the railing. You kiss for what must be minutes, the hum of the party forgotten, not a care who’s watching.

When she pulls away, her eyes are black with lust, her lips swollen. She nudges her nose against yours and squeezes your hips, desire in her eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.” She murmurs.

next part

#three's a crowd #love triangle fic #fanfic #mine #jenna ortega #wednesday #emma myers #jenna ortega x reader #emma myers x reader #jenna ortega x you #emma myers x you

802 notes · View notes

tadpolejourney · 3 months

Text

Most Welcome

Genres: BG3 Act 2, Gale x F!Tav, love triangle (Gale, Tav, Astarion) mostly angst and fluff, a small dose of sexy stuff (not smut though)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ for adult language and mild adult content, alcohol abuse

A/N: This is a companion piece to my Tav Liriel’s journal series, narrated in the third person. It takes place the night after Day 33, their first day in the Shadowlands and after Karlach got her engine upgrade. I’m using a headcanon that vampire spawn can feel the effects of alcohol when canonically they cannot. It’s heavy on dialogue and some of that is written as drunken speech. 5,388 words because like Gale I have a propensity towards verbosity...

“Let the Karlach cuddle party extravaganza commence!” Liriel announced to the whole camp as she hugged Karlach for what was probably the tenth time that day.

“Hells yes!” Karlach shouted, pumping her fist into the air a few times. “I want to hug everyone. And-- oh! SCRATCH! Come here, boy!”

The white, fluffy dog came bounding up to her, wagging his tail enthusiastically. He maintained a safe distance from the fiery tiefling, as he had been taught. His curiosity piqued, he tilted his head to one side.

“New rules, Scratch! I can pet you now! Look!” She grinned and reached out her hand to let him sniff it. Wasting no more time, she gave Scratch so many enthusiastic pets she ruffled every inch of the fur on his head.

“Aw, you’re so soft,” she commented. “Where’s the cub?” She looked around for the owlbear cub who normally ran alongside or after Scratch wherever he went.

She heard a soft chirping from behind her, and turned to see the cub looking at her with its huge yellow eyes, as if begging for head scritches.

She spent the next half hour petting, playing, and snuggling with Scratch and the owlbear cub.

“I have SO MUCH to do!” Karlach called out as she jogged over to rejoin the group. They were seated around the cook pot having dinner and the first glasses of wine for the evening.

“I hope a hearty dinner is on that list, because that’s what I prepared just for you,” Gale told her as he fixed a plate of one of the best meals they’d had since starting their journey. He’d prepared roasted turkey and grilled pork sausage, roasted pumpkin, and a buttered baked potato, all seasoned to perfection for the special occasion.

Gale handed her the plate and she immediately set it down on the ground to wrap the wizard in a great bear hug, lifting him off the ground. “Thank you. For the food, and for being my friend.”

“You’re very welcome! Please, put me down now, and then, eat. I insist.”

“There’s a berry tart for dessert that I made just for you, courtesy of the Last Light kitchen,” Wyll said to Karlach as she sat down and began gobbling the items on her plate.

“Wow!” she exclaimed through a mouthful of food. She swallowed thickly and said, “I think I forgot what that even tastes like. Don’t let me forget to hug you next for at least five minutes.”

Wyll laughed, then raised an eyebrow at her. “How about we make it… five hugs instead of five minutes of one hug?”

“Deal.”

Gale watched Karlach wolf down her dinner with genuine affection. He felt someone’s eyes on him as he did so, and looked around at the rest of his companions.

He met Liriel's gaze from across the campfire and she gave him the warmest smile. He smiled back in return, but a thought intruded on that lovely moment that made his heart ache. His mother would have loved Liriel. He would have been so proud to be with her, to take her home. So many places he would have liked to take her, so many people in his life he wanted her to meet.

He thought back to their conversation last night. How she had completely defied his expectations and held his hand. He had planned to tell her that he was in love with her, but things did not go as planned.

He asked her for a private audience in his tent this evening, and he was both eager and uneasy. After all, how dare he start anything when he knows what he must do? How could he knowingly break her heart in that manner? Or was it already too late? Would he be doomed to break her heart no matter what?

“WYLL!” Karlach’s voice boomed, jolting Gale out of his thoughts. “Time for hug number one. That berry tart was fucking incredible.”

Karlach gave Wyll her now signature elevating bear hug. Gale realized he didn’t want to make any of his newfound friends sad, or put any of them in danger because of the orb either. Then he felt an elbow gently jab his side.

“I would pay you a copper for your thoughts, but I don’t think I want to know given the look on your face,” Liriel remarked.

Gale sighed wistfully. “Was I that obvious?”

“To me? Yes. I think everyone else is too worried about who Karlach will try to hug next to pay attention to you. Are you ready to head to your tent for that private chat? Or do you need more time to brood?”

“Oh no, brooding will do me no good. A moment alone with you will do me a lot of good.”

She took him by the hand, rapidly entwining her fingers in his, and led him to the privacy of his tent.

Holding hands was still such a new sensation for the both of them that their hearts fluttered. Gale often felt he needed a reality check in moments with her, to ensure he had not actually died and this was not his final dream. Liriel often felt she dreamed Gale into life.

“About last night—” he started.

“I don’t want you to die, Gale,” she said earnestly.

“I know. Thank you for saying so.”

“There really is nothing I could do to change your mind, is there? No matter what I say or do, you want to die for Mystra.”

“That is an inaccurate portrait of the situation, Liriel. This is not about Mystra, or even myself for that matter. This is about saving everyone from the Absolute. Mystra has given us a way. It gives my inevitable and imminent death from the orb some meaning in the process. As of late I would never do such a thing for her alone, or any promise of her forgiveness.”

“Can you at least reconsider the idea that there may in fact be more than one solution to the problem of the Absolute? That perhaps there is a way that doesn’t involve sacrificing you, someone who doesn’t deserve to be sacrificed? That maybe we can do this, together, and all of us can live to tell the tale?”

“I can certainly reconsider once we know firsthand what we’re up against, but we must expect the worst. Believe me, there are things far worse than my death. The Absolute taking over the world is one of them.”

“Personally, I can’t think of a single thing worse than you dying, and I refuse to expect the worst. I will not accept you blowing yourself up as a necessary event, and you shouldn’t either. It’s bullshit. The gods are full of shit and only ever meddle when it benefits them directly. They make us do their dirty work. I don’t believe a damn word any of them say, ever. The evil gods break the rules all the time while the allegedly good gods do nothing to stop them and the neutral gods idle pointlessly.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You really are quite cynical about the gods, aren’t you? They are infinitely more complex than mere mortal moral notions of good, neutral, and evil.”

“If I am too cynical about them, you are too damn accommodating. If you actually die and I manage to survive your explosion, I will live out the remainder of my days in utter fucking anguish and despondency over losing you. You better take me with you.”

“Liriel, I truly wish to let the matter rest for now. I know you are upset, but we’re very nearly teetering off the edge of sense and civility, and I am in no condition to endure such a turn in our conversation.” His tone was equally exasperated and concerned.

She growled in frustration. In one swift motion, she grabbed his face and kissed him hard, heatedly, and passionately. Gale instantly and effortlessly returned her heat and her passion, locking her in an embrace. Her tongue entered his mouth and danced with his as she raked her fingers through his hair.

They were a tangle of feverish movement, moaning through each kiss as they ran their hands up and down and all over one another’s bodies, clawing and pawing desperately. As she pressed her body against his, he hissed and bucked his hips into her.

She let herself get swept up in the breathlessness of the moment, actively restraining herself from forming words, confessing her love for him. The ache and pull of that restraint was enough to bring an overwhelming torrent of emotion to the surface. She felt her eyes begin to burn and sting with tears as they continued to kiss and caress and grind their hips into one another.

Abruptly, she jerked herself away from the kiss and his embrace.

“Damnit!” she exclaimed, shutting her eyes tightly as though she could squeeze back the tears welling in her eyes.

“Damnitdamnitdamnit!” She turned and dashed away before he had time to process anything.

Outside Gale’s tent the cuddle party was winding down as the rest of the group were gathered together around the fire. Despite the dreary backdrop of the shadow-cursed lands, the mood was still joyful and jocular. Then they witnessed Liriel pass by them in a blur as she raced through camp and out of sight, audibly choking back sobs as she ran. Before anyone else had time to react, Astarion turned, deftly vaulted over the owlbear cub laying on the ground behind him, and sprinted after Liriel at top speed.

He caught up to her a few hundred yards out of earshot of camp. He grabbed her by one shoulder and she immediately tried to shrug him off without turning around. “Liriel!” he barked breathlessly, “It’s just me. Stop! Now, damn you!”

She slowed to a standstill, her breathing ragged. She turned to face him, and her countenance pained him in a way he was unsure he had ever felt before. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot and there were distinct tracks of tears running down her face. She looked... scared. He had never seen her frightened, not once. He could scarcely believe she was afraid of anything, even seeing her quite clearly afraid this very moment. Just what had that asshole wizard said to her? he wondered.

“Weren’t you the one earlier today that was adamant about anyone not going out alone in this shit?” he ranted as he gestured broadly at the unnatural darkness surrounding them. “And yet, here you are, like an imp out of the hells, mindlessly attempting to tear through this place by yourself as though you have a death wish. What the fuck happened?”

Instead of responding, she buried her face in her hands and cried.

“Look,” he said brusquely, “I’m not going to leave you alone out here for very long, but I can tell we are both going to need a lot alcohol for this conversation. Will you promise me that you will stay here until I get back unless you see or hear anything at all, and that if you do see or hear anything that isn’t me you’ll head straight back to camp? Nod if you can do that.”

She nodded without removing her hands from over her face.

Astarion stealthily and hastily made his way back to camp, purloining some whiskey for her and wine for himself from someone’s unattended pack. He mutely observed the rumblings of camp, counting heads to ensure the rest of their group was still there and that no one had attempted to follow.

As he finished counting, he heard Karlach bay reassuringly to the group, “Astarion will bring her back for sure. They’re real close, you know?” He smirked to himself as he slunk away.

When he returned to Liriel, she sat on the ground crying softly, her knees drawn up to her chest, her face resting on them. It was a side of her he’d never seen. She seemed so small, so vulnerable and childlike, and so different from the person he had known all this time. The sight of her like this made him feel… strange. Not good.

He prodded one of her knees with the whiskey bottle. “He’s not worth it, you know.”

She looked up at him and smiled feebly, taking the bottle from his hand. He sat down beside her and uncorked the bottle of wine. They sat together without speaking, both solemnly taking in large gulps of alcohol as though they were preparing for an amputation.

“I’m normally not this stupid when I like someone, you know,” she remarked after a while, cutting the sheer silence.

“I dearly hope so,” he replied. “I thought you were at least kind of smart before tonight. Now I’m not so sure.”

As she turned to face him in a display of feigned outrage, he grinned back at her slyly.

She took another drink, and her expression resumed its previous solemnity as she continued. “I want to be with him, but now he’s going to die, and it’s all such tragic bullshit. I tried to talk him out of using the orb, again. Foolish of me, really.” She took another huge swig of whiskey.

He gawked at her, not really listening to the stuff about Gale but rather genuinely fascinated with the way she gulped from the bottle without so much as a twinge. He thought that shit burned like fire and tasted even worse.

After another minute or so of silence Astarion asked, “What in the hells could he have said to someone as tough as you to make you actually cry, though?”

“Oh, it wasn’t because of what he said,” she replied. “He told me he had no choice, again, and our discussion went nowhere. That sucked, but he was gentle in the way he spoke to me about it. I tend to reserve my tears and shed them privately if I can, and none of that would have made me cry outright. It’s more the fact that in the heat of the moment I kissed him, hoping I would hate it or feel nothing, and I didn’t. It just confirmed what I already knew, and I couldn’t deal. So I ran.”

He grimaced, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t quite place. He shifted his legs as though it might assuage the discomfort he felt. It did not. “What do you mean, ‘what you already knew’?”

“That I’m in love with him.”

“Oh,” he replied, authentically startled. “Oh,” he repeated, but gravely.

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

“Well… yes, darling. Since you asked, yes, you’re fucked. But isn’t everything and everyone?”

She chuckled dryly, taking another huge swig of whiskey. She swayed lightly now, nearly brushing against him.

He realized he wished she would. They had never touched. Astarion felt his focus on the here and now drifting as the wine combined with the shock of the evening’s events. Her sudden, heartfelt confession. To him, but not about him. She kissed… Gale, of all people. He sensed his mood souring along with a feeling of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. Asshole wizard, he thought again.

“Let’s talk about something else, shall we, darling?” Astarion asked, forcing a chipper tone through his voice though he felt pretty fucking far from chipper. “Something… happier, perhaps? What about… animals? You like animals, I like drinking the blood of animals…”

She laughed, a little too loud, and a little too joyously. She was definitely drunk. “Thanks for running out here after me, into this dangerous, dark ass wilderness. For keeping me company while I was a blubbering mess. And for bringing me whiskey to make it allll better.”

“Don’t mention it. Really, I mean that. I do not want my reputation ruined. I can't have people coming after me for heroic favors and expecting me to be nice to them.”

He eyed her as she took another large swig from the whiskey bottle. It was two-thirds gone already.

“I’m curious about somethin’, and I hope you’ll humor me since we’re alone and everything sucks,” she said. “I don’t know anything about vampires or vampire spawn, y’know. Do you poop?”

“Do I what?” he asked, obviously appalled and almost daring her to repeat the question, hoping she wouldn’t.

“I said… Do. You. Poop.”

“Do fuck off, darling.”

She let another hearty laugh. “Everyone poops, right?”

“I now hate this conversation so much I almost wish you would talk to me about Gale again. Almost.”

“So you’d... rather talk about poop than Gale?”

“Both topics are entirely too repulsive for me, I’m afraid. And I do think you’re positively drunk, my dear.”

“Yesh. I think so too. Gale’s not gross. He’s nice and verrrry loveleeeeee. I’ll punch you if you say that again.”

He frowned, knowing she wouldn’t notice it. Then he watched her take yet another substantial gulp of whiskey, and his eyes widened. “Are you really going to polish off that whole bottle?”

“Why not? I ain’t no quitter.”

“Ugh, a double negative, really? Your grammar is atrocious when you drink.”

“Doeshn’t matter if I make enough sense to seem deep. If you don’t like it, go to shleep,” she slurred, jostling his wine bottle as she pointed towards the general direction of camp.

“You are scarcely making sense, too. I won’t leave you alone out here, as much as I’d like to right now.”

“Maybe we should sing a.. a shong or somethin.”

“No, we should not. I think we should head back to camp before you lose consciousness entirely.”

“Wait... I gots busineshs…” She tilted the bottle up, her head following, as she dumped the remaining contents of the whiskey bottle into her mouth.

She threw the bottle aimlessly into the darkness, giggled after hearing it shatter, and slumped into Astarion, her head resting on his shoulder.

He sighed, pretending to be annoyed. “Hells. Can we go now?”

“I gueshs… we should go... back. ‘Fore some dark shadowy typa shit... eatsh ush or shomethin.”

Liriel stood, wobbling and tipping. Thoroughly reluctant to ask for Astarion’s help to walk back to camp through the dark, she staggered forward a few steps.

When she tripped over nothing at all and fell on her behind, she slurred, “I think I need an adult.”

“Honestly,” he huffed, attempting to seem put out by her drunkenness and miffed at having to abandon his bottle of wine. He set the bottle down with a dramatic flair to conceal the absolute glee he felt as he swept her up in his arms and carried her back to camp, bridal style.

Gale rushed to the edge of camp when he heard their footsteps, but stopped short at what he saw. He chastised himself again for not reacting fast enough and keeping her close. Feelings of intense jealousy surged within him at the sight of Liriel in Astarion’s arms as the vampire spawn confidently strolled into camp. Gale began assuming the worst. Karlach’s earlier remark was unnecessary, as Gale needed no reminder whatsoever that the two of them were so effortlessly close in a way that he envied and longed for with her. Then, as if meaning to pour veritable salt into his emotional wounds, the group began gushing about how fast Astarion ran after her, how he gracefully leapt over the owlbear cub like a dancer and sprinted off at an impressive speed into the danger of the dark to bring her back. Did they intend to mock him also with the gossip that followed about what the pair might be doing out there alone, and what they did when they left camp together yesterday?

He also knew, through a significant volume of observational evidence gathered over the weeks they’d traveled together, that Astarion was definitely in love with her too. Even if the undead elf refused to acknowledge or recognize it, and even if he wouldn’t use those exact words himself to describe how he felt about her. He also knew that Astarion was not the only competitor at camp vying for her heart. He had several romantic rivals.

Then the rush of thoughts halted as it dawned on him that she was utterly wasted, oblivious and babbling nonsensically as she lolled in Astarion’s grip. Though he was very evidently struggling with their inebriated leader, he acted confident, almost proud, in his movements as he carried her. The way Astarion glared at him, Gale knew that he knew. She told him at least something about what transpired in his tent.

Gale’s thoughts pivoted now as he regained perspective on the situation. She could have anyone she wanted, and yet she chose him. She kissed him. Then, in a tempest of strong emotions, she fled from his side, unable to face him while in tears over him. The intensity of the memory and the earlier glimpse of the depth of her feelings for him inspired a dizzying combination of elation, gratitude, shame, and regret.

She came back uninjured, and now she was drunk. Really, really drunk. Did Astarion really chase after her with a bottle in hand intending to carouse with her? Gale thought to himself.

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief upon Liriel’s return to camp. Karlach took her from Astarion’s arms into her own, and didn’t appear to struggle at all despite the half elf’s boozy wriggling.

Astarion made a great show to the rest of the group of seeming very inconvenienced by the whole affair as he huffed and took a bottle of wine out of Wyll’s hand. Wyll sighed defeatedly and trekked over to the camp chest to procure another for himself.

Sensing Karlach’s intentions as she turned away from the group, Liriel proceeded to beg in a drunken slur, “Mama K, don’ make me go bed. Jusht becaushe I’m too drunk to walk doeshn’t mean I can’t hang out. Wanna hang out…”

“Alright, alright,” Karlach conceded sweetly, turning back around. “But if you throw up or try to keep drinking, I’m putting you to bed.”

Liriel squealed in delight, slinging a free arm around the tiefling’s neck in an attempted hug.

Karlach set Liriel down between herself and Shadowheart around the fire. It didn’t take long for the cheerful mood to return to the group. Liriel’s usual effervescent charm did not elude her even in a drunken state. She was very silly, very relaxed, and absolutely smashed. At first the group was stunned, having never seen her drunk before, but that shock rapidly gave way to amusement.

“So, Liriel,” Shadowheart began with a telltale smirk, “What did you and Astarion do out there all alone in the darkness for so long? You seem much less upset than when you fled camp earlier.”

“Talkded, bout shtuff, personals,” Liriel drawled. “I was... sad. Then, I drank aaaaaaaalll the whiskey.” She gestured wildly as she dragged out the word ‘all’, nearly knocking Shadowheart’s goblet out of her hand in the process. “And now? I'm happeeeeee. Prolly not really though. Imma feel reallll bad tomorrow mornin.”

“She really did drink an entire bottle of whiskey,” Astarion happily chimed in, “It was honestly impressive how much she drank without dying or, worse, vomiting.”

“I haf a dyshfundshunal relashhionshhip with alkeyhol. I can haf none of it, or alllll of it. N it’sh realll bad when I have sadneshs.”

“Sadness can be a really great thing, you know,” Shadowheart commented with a dreamy look on her face. “It’s a sign of loss, which is glorious. It’s freeing. You should try embracing it.”

“Babygirl,” Liriel replied as she clapped a hand on Shadowheart’s shoulder and tried to look serious, “I luf you but dat’sh some bullllllllllllshhhhhhhhhhit.”

Lae’zel, Astarion, and Gale audibly stifled their laughter.

Keen to prevent any impending late night chaos, Karlach interjected, “Let’s talk about something else now, yeah? I’m sorry you were sad, Liriel. We can talk about it tomorrow, when you’re sober. If you want.”

“Mmk,” Liriel hummed. “Shorry bout the blasfuhmee, Shart. Hope I don’ offend you wif my dilsbelief.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I am thoroughly entertained by your stupidity,” Shadowheart replied bluntly as she pushed Liriel’s hand off her shoulder.

“Cool. Gimme dat,” Liriel darted for Gale’s wine bottle on the ground in front of him, splaying over Karlach’s lap to reach for it.

She got the rim of the bottle to her lips just as Karlach lifted her up with total ease and said, “Okay, that’s it. You’re done. Bedtime.”

Gale stood up to meet Liriel at her eye level. “May I have my bottle of wine back?” he asked her politely.

“Uh,” she stammered, “Ya.” She nearly dropped the bottle in an attempt to hand it to him, but he managed to get a grip on it.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

“Don’ you shmile at me like that Mishter Blizzard, or imma kishs you again. Thish time in front of errrrybody.” She attempted to wink at him, but it was so slow and awkward it made everyone laugh, including Gale.

“On that note, I think I will go to bed as well. Good night, everyone,” Gale announced, completely unable to suppress the huge grin on his face.

Liriel whined as Karlach whisked her away from Gale to her tent. She passed out on her bedroll for a few hours.

In the middle of the night, she found herself wide awake but still drunk. She opened the flap of her tent and peered out at the campsite, searching for signs of life. By her estimation everyone was fast asleep and dawn was still hours away.

She crawled over to Gale’s tent and pried it open. Slowly and silently, she crept up on the wizard, who was in deep sleep. She briefly watched him, appreciating his handsome features and the peaceful look on his face in the low light of the dimming campfire. Then her impulses took over, and she bent down to get incredibly close to his sleeping form.

As she grabbed one of his shoulders, she hissed, “BOO” in his ear.

Gale bolted upright, exclaiming, “Gods, what is—”

Then he noticed who it was that barged into his tent in the middle of the night, along with the amused expression on her face. Still in disbelief, he asked, “Liriel? What are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you, alone. And I didn’t want to wait until morning. And earlier I was too upset. And then I was too drunk. Now I’m still drunk—I’m like, 56% drunk. But no longer tooooo drunk, y’know? And I’m not upset.”

He chuckled, shifting and motioning so that she would sit beside him. “Well, your sudden intrusion is always welcome, however jarring it was in the moment.”

“Hey, at least we know for sure he is sleeping.” She lightly grazed her finger over the skin on his chest where the orb resided and let it linger there. It began to glow a bright purple. She’d seen this before. She knew what it meant. He was turned on right now.

And the look on his face confirmed it. “Perhaps now is not the best time to rehash what happened earlier tonight, though. I have a feeling those hurt feelings we harbor could easily resurface.”

“You have hurt feelings too? You seemed so stoic. It frustrated me.”

“Of course this hurts me. I don’t want to break your heart in this way, and my own heart aches for you like never before. Knowing you feel the sorrow you do, it pains me. Greatly.”

“So what do we do now?”

“Now…” he paused to think on it a moment. “Now I think we should sleep, really. We need our rest and our strength, more than ever. There will be time to talk this through.”

She looked downcast, biting her lip.

He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. He waited for her instead.

“I just want to say one thing,” she said softly. “We’ve already defied incredible odds by managing to get this far. It’s not blind dumb luck that we’re still here either. It’s us. WE survived because of who WE are. We’re not only surviving, we’ve surpassed every challenge that this fucked up world has thrown at us. We keep winning. If there’s anything I believe in, it’s us. It’s you.”

He pulled her close in a movement so uncharacteristically strong and quick that it caught her slightly intoxicated senses off-guard. When she regained her bearings she held him tightly, bunching the clothes on his back between each of her fists.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “Thank you for believing in me and giving me hope. I will not abandon that hope, or you, lightly. Please know that.”

She didn’t say anything. They clung to one another so firmly yet neither dared let go. After a while, Gale could detect her trembling slightly in his embrace, then he noticed she had dampened his clothing at the shoulder where her eyes rested. He pulled back a little to look at her face as she simultaneously worked to hide her face from his view, withdrawing and nearly turning away from him. He brought her back in a close embrace, preferring to keep her pressed against him since she seemed intent on refusing him a view of her face.

“Are you that determined to conceal your tears from me?” he gently asked her.

“Yes,” she sniffled. “I won’t run away again... just... please don’t look at me right now.”

He let her continue to cry on his shoulder, stroking her hair and her upper back, hoping he could bring her comfort in some small way.

“I’m sorry, Gale,” she said after a while, her voice calm but heavy with congestion. “I’m grateful to you for comforting me, but I also think it’s fucked up for me to ask this of you when you’re the one that’s been ordered to die.”

He chuckled softly. “I assure you, I am voluntarily comforting you and you needn’t apologize. If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I am sorry, to you, for failing to recognize the depth of your feelings for me sooner. For forcing you to pay for my past mistakes. I do wish things could be different, now more than ever.”

“I forgive you, Gale. You deserve to be forgiven. For all of it. And you deserve to live too.”

Now Gale was the one feeling tears well up in his eyes. With a sigh, he pulled Liriel back and held her at arm’s length by her shoulders so he could look her in the eyes.

“Thank you,” he told her sincerely. “For everything, not just your compassionate words in this moment. For being you. For pulling me out of that portal. For not turning me away when you found out just how badly I blundered. For trusting me with your life, and your heart. And, if I may be so frank, for the best damn kiss of my life.”

Her lips trembled slightly, but she managed a smile. “You’re very welcome. Most welcome, one might say.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and easily returned her smile at the memory of the moment they shared in the Weave.

A timid look crossed her face. Gale loved this very cute, very bashful side of her previously unseen by him.

“What is it?” he asked her. “Is there something you wish to ask of me?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “Can I sleep here? That’s probably an absurd idea, since it’s such a small space, and I really do mean cuddling and then sleep-sleep, no sexy stuff, but if you don’t want—”

He cut off her deluge of words with a soft, short, but sweet kiss, of a completely different sort from what they shared before. It was a gesture that was clearly loving and reassuring.

“You are most welcome to stay here with me tonight,” he told her after pulling away from the kiss.

He placed one arm around her and gently guided her to lie down on his bedroll beside him. She curled up against him, laid her head on his chest, and draped an arm across his waist.

“Good night, Gale,” she whispered.

“Good night, Liriel.”

Blissful sleep followed.

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