#me being incapable of shutting up so i had to include all of them ofc

[maironsbigboobs]

3,4,5 for 9 we or any different subsets in the ship :)

My god I am in too deep, this is so very long

What was their first impression of each other?

Well I think Finwë Elwë and Ingwë are all about the same age and met as small children, so they don't remember their first impressions - probably just that that looked like a fun kid to play with. They do remember the first time Olwë trailed after his big brother to play with them and they thought he was very cute.

Miriel I think was also probably part of their little friend group, and perhaps Ingwë's wife (her name is canonically Ilwen) though I think she probably spent more time with other Vanyar kids.

We all know how Elwë and Melian's first meeting went.

I don't know how Olwë met his wife. I feel like he only married her in Valinor, so perhaps they never crossed paths until then.

Finwë first saw Indis dancing in Valinor, and he loved her from that moment. Indis had been watching him from afar (Ingwë is her uncle (I think), so she would have seen him around) and has been in love with him for years.

Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

Melian and Elwë are sickeningly cute and affectionate at all times. Once they're both in Valinor it only gets worse because they have seven people to fawn over now.

Indis and Finwë are almost the opposite - because of the Miriel situation Indis feels uncomfortable being too affectionate in public, but also not being affectionate enough, so she sticks to her own code of what is proper. Miriel was very affectionate when she was alive, but became more withdrawn as she got sicker during her pregnancy + after.

Olwë and Mrs. Olwë are the most affectionate with the other 7 in public, not being bound by Vanyarin conservatism or Noldorin politics.

Ilwen is the most light hearted of the lot of them and is a lot more free with her affections. Ingwë is extremely reserved at almost all times except when they are 100% alone, probably because he thinks Manwë is always watching or something.

Do they argue often? If so, what do they argue about?

Melian and Elwë don't argue so much as Melian says something, Elwë ignores it and she is proven right. Melian is fine with this because of weird Ainur reasons that I can't explain without this being 1000 words long.

In petty matters they hardly ever disagree at all, though, so it isn't a big deal.

Ilwen is a FORCE in Vanyarin politics but she makes a point never to argue with Ingwë in public. She has a brand to keep up. Indis learnt from her aunt and employs the same tactic in Tirion, though her and Finwë argue semi-frequently in private. Usually about Fëanor or their kids. She doesn't argue with the others much, hardly ever.

Miriel had no such qualms and regularly and openly challenged all of the others on matters big and small. She loved to argue and she loved to be right. See: why Fëanor is like that

Finwë argues with Ingwë and Ilwen over political and religious matters and also incredibly petty things like what colour to paint the new statue of Manwë Ingwë is paying the Noldor for.

Olwë is just happy to be included and is a very chill dude so he doesn't argue unless it is something he feels very strongly about. His wife is more strong-minded, but doesn't play as much of a role in cross-kingdom politics so doesn't argue with the others as much as she does with Olwë''s advisors.

[mystic-headcanons]

hihi :3 i love your writing n i literally stay up til late reading your work, it’s sooo cute >< i’ve been having hard days at work so they cheer me up a lot!!

i was wondering if i could make a req please? basically, mc comes home from work TIRED and saeyoung pampers them!!! i would love if u include writing smth along the lines of him taking off mc’s makeup too, only if u can ofc!!

thank u sososo much <3 i appreciate u so much

thank u !!! i’m rly glad they can cheer u up and i hope ur work days get better <3 i’m in food service so i know how rough it gets and esp around the holidays. i hope u enjoy !!! <3

-

there’s two different types of exhaustion. there’s just normal exhausted, where keeping your eyes open feels like a herculean task and you can’t stop counting down the minutes until you’re finally home, and then there’s exhausted exhausted, where it seeps into your bones and burrows down, down, deep into your core. where your head is filled with cotton and all you can do is stare blankly ahead of you, unable to register anything. saeyoung is intimately familiar with the latter one, with spending long days and longer nights working for the agency, and then the hacker that had threatened the rfa.

it was late when you finally came home. you didn’t say a word to saeyoung when he’d asked about your day, didn’t spare a second glance to saeran when he’s walked into the kitchen, and instead just trudged up the stairs. “they seem worn out.” saeran commented with a frown, and saeyoung nodded in agreement. if there was one thing that could make saeran drop his tough act, it was you. (and oh, that was such a lovely thing for saeyoung to witness. truly, there is not one person he can think of who is immune to his charms. seeing his future spouse and brother get along was everything to saeyoung.) without a second thought, saeyoung picked up a bowl of whatever he had been attempting to cook and followed you up the stairs.

you didn't even look up when he came into the room. you were laying on the bed with your eyes shut, still in your work clothes. "long day?" saeyoung asked, sympathy in his voice. you didn't say anything, only nodded your head. he made his way over to the bed and sat down next to you; the pressure made you finally open your eyes. "here," he quietly said, "i brought you dinner." saeyoung held the bowl out to you, but you shook your head. "too tired." you mumbled, your eyes slipping back shut. "nope. you've still gotta eat." he said, gently nudging you. at his insistence, you slowly sat up and stifled a yawn as you did so. when you reached for the bowl, however, saeyoung shook his head and lifted the fork to your lips. "i'll feed you." he said, giving you a soft smile. "saeyoung, i can feed myself." the thought of him feeding you-- like you were an infant, or incapable, was enough to bring an embarrassed flush to your cheeks. "i know." was all saeyoung said, and he lifted an eyebrow as he waited for you to eat. how many times had you taken care of saeyoung when he felt too exhausted to even breathe? when he was simply incapable of doing anything for himself? the answer was: too many times for saeyoung to keep count. it was his turn to take care of you.

once the food was gone and saeyoung was satisfied with how much you ate, he took your hands in his and gently tugged you off the bed. "come on. let's get you washed up and take off the makeup and then we can go to bed." he softly said, leading you to the bathroom. saeyoung helped you out of your work clothes and into the bathtub that was filled with hot water. saeyoung's hands were gentle as he washed over your body, as he massaged the shampoo and then the conditioner into your hair, as he kept running his fingers through the strands and gently combing them. it was the type of softness that had tears springing to your eyes-- being treated so gently, like you're something precious and breakable, was something you weren't really used to.

it felt like hours, (in reality it was only minutes), until you were finally out of the bath. saeyoung had been the one to dry you off, to dress you in his shirt and a pair of his sweatpants because you had always found comfort in his clothes, in him. he gave a low chuckle as you were literally swaying on your feet, and he reached out to steady you. "i know, i know. but we're almost done." saeyoung murmured, grabbing your makeup wipes. he slowly began to wipe your makeup off- all the eyeshadow, the smudged eyeliner, the mascara that had ended up under your eyes, the foundation that had been mostly sweat off, the concealer, the contour. he used a few more wipes to ensure that he got everything, and then grabbed your facial cleanser and used that. you had a whole routine to clean your face that saeyoung wasn't about to go through, but he knew you'd kill him if he didn't at least use the cleanser.

once your face was cleaned and clear of any makeup, and the two of you had brushed your teeth, you were finally in bed and curled around saeyoung. "thank you." you quietly murmured, turning your head to press a kiss to the bottom part of his jaw. "you don't have to thank me. you've done the exact same thing for me many, many times before. besides, i like caring for you." saeyoung whispered back, and he kissed the side of your head as you fell into a deep, deep sleep.

[blushydrangea]

im here to ask u ur thoughts in the... pj controversy ehhekekfke i wanna say smthn abt but like i feel as if i dont grasp the whole thing yet so i chose to shut up rn

hi love! under the cut so the people who are tired of discussing this topic can avoid it.

it's a long one!

i know everyone here has likely come across the tweets pj made, but as an archiver at heart i feel the need to break everything down. screenshots aren't mine.

on the 18th, pj made a tweet about fellow drag queen and artist chappell roan, questioning the authenticity of her love for drag. most people (me included!) thought she was trolling, which unfortunately didn't happen to be the case. plane appeared to be under the impression that chappell was mean or cold towards drag queens she invited to her shows, something she allegedly heard about in boston and, according to some people on reddit so take this with a grain of salt, was debunked. she followed her tweet with another, ironically saying "i love chappell roan". the first tweet was then deleted.

after several people accused plane jane of trying to gatekeep drag from women & having an unfair opinion deeply rooted in misogyny, pj released a notes app screenshot on the 19th. however, going against the purpose of most notes screenshots, hers wasn't an apology. instead, she chose to call out the hypocrisy of people attacking her because they were calling her a man (it's important to note that pj hasn't directly told us what her ood pronouns are afaik).

she made some more shady tweets after that and argued with stans on social media but i don't feel like including these, so the last update we have was this apology pj made for her fandom.

before i speak my mind on this, i just wanna say that i am willing to discuss this as long as people are polite, any aggressive messages i might receive will be promptly deleted.

to be honest, i didn't like what she said. being a person with a platform and, let's be real, several crazy stan accounts who follow her word like gospel, it was wrong in my opinion to call a growing lesbian artist (one of the very few we have, at that) performative for her love of drag. someone who also engages in the *checks notes* performative art of drag. there isn't much of a "bag" to be secured by pretending you love drag, as it's not that mainstream, and i can't help but wonder if pj would have the same criticism were chappell a gay man instead of a lesbian woman.

misogyny is real and it's present in all of us, we were all raised to see women as less than. pj is white and male-presenting with her makeup off, she isn't incapable of misogyny because she is gay or a drag queen. therefore, it rubbed me in the wrong way to see her voice out the same beliefs i've heard from other gay men before – that women deserve to be questioned whenever they exist in drag spaces. i don't agree with the sentiment that pj meant women shouldn't do drag, as she never said that. though she honestly reminded me of those men who ask me very specific and tricky questions about the tree of gondor or whatever when i tell them i love the lord of the rings. are you a true fan?

her notes app statement was what pissed me off. she was really immature imo, ofc she's only 26 so there's room for growth, but twisting a situation you inserted yourself in to seem like the victim based on... people calling you a cis man? come on. it was a self-centered statement made by someone who seemed to refuse to take any criticism on this subject matter. i was very disappointed she chose the "but you are wrong too!" route instead of apologizing to the people she hurt.

her apology to her fandom was... fine, i guess. it served to show me that she seems to be comfortable living in her bubble.

do i think she's a bad person? no, i don't. but i do think she had a misogynistic take and doubled down on it because she refuses to admit she was wrong. i'm staying away from her for the time being, i'll probably get over it eventually but rn i don't wanna see her face all that much. no judgement whatsoever to people who forgave her and are still posting about her, it's your blog, do what you want <3

[keanureevesisbae]

Coach Cavill - Chapter 2

Summary: Benji really likes his new coach and Amelia can only agree. 

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

‘Annabelle did not pee her pants today,’ I tell Greg, when I place the shopping basket on the counter. ‘She actually managed to reach the toilets in time, so no clothes in a plastic bag today.’

When I walked out of school today, I got a text from Eve, saying that if Benji, Isabella and I wanted to have dinner at her place, I should bring some ingredients back with me and I really want to have dinner at her place. She is a much better cook than I am. Or even will be for that matter.

‘I’m proud of her,’ Greg chuckles, as he scans the articles. ‘By the way, I heard coach Cavill is a success.’

I agree to that a bit too quickly, but Greg is clueless (bless his heart) and doesn’t hear the desperation in my voice. Two practices have passed since the first one on Monday and usually I would bring some work with me, but now I’m enjoying every second of it. It’s something about how Henry handles the kids. I mean, when men are good with kids, it’s always a plus (I mean, have you seen Chris Evans with kids?), but it was different with Henry. The way he would grab the back of Benji’s brown belt, hoisting him up, it was something fatherly.

I remember when Benji was younger, Dean would bring him to practice. Since Benji had this thing about not changing in the locker rooms when he was younger (he finally outgrew that, thankfully), he’d get dressed back at home and Dean would carry him into the practice centre, as if Benji was a sports bag.

What has changed between Benji and Dean?

Henry’s deep voice fills the judo hall, with compliments to each kid. Some of them prefer the yelling type of coaching, while Benji prefers an one on one moments, where the coach would softly and privately tell him how he is doing.

No one hears the things he says to my son and I can’t believe this man knows how to handle my son within one week.

However, I’m not the only one who is enjoying the training, since the crowd of drooling moms is expanding with the minute. ‘Benji really likes him.’

Greg nods. ‘Good, good. Henry is already a well liked customer here. He buys a lot of groceries,’ he says. ‘I heard he lived in the old house miss Bonny used to live.’

‘He lives in that dump?’ I ask. That house has been empty for at least five years since her passing and kids are often told that the spirit of miss Bonny is circling around. Now my kids never believed in that, since I told them that was untrue. It’s just… The place scares me a bit, so I never walk passed that place when it was already dim outside. ‘Why?’

‘Has too much time on his hands?’ He shrugs. ‘I have no idea, never really asked about that, but what is a Brit doing here anyway?’

‘Trying to disrupt the peace here and breaking up marriages. You should see the bleachers during practice,’ I chuckle. ‘There are more women than there are kids. I saw Lotte Gambles even sitting there.’

‘Lotte Gambles doesn’t have any kids nor is interested in judo or any sport for that matter,’ Greg notes.

‘My thoughts exactly,’ I laugh. ‘I mean, how obvious do you want to make it that you are thirty seven, single and desperate?’

‘I bet you’re glad you got pregnant when you were in college, so you’d have a kid, thus an excuse to ogle the handsome coach.’

‘Greg,’ I tell him in my stern teacher voice, ‘I know what tooth broke off. My fist can do that again.’

He holds up his hands in defense. ‘I’ll shut u— Oh no.’

‘What oh no?’ I look over my shoulder and let out a frustrated sigh. Why is Dean here? With Mindy of all people? Is she incapable of doing something herself? Whenever I see her, it’s always with Dean. I don’t think I’ve ever run into her without my ex by her side.

Dean notices me and holds up his hand. I simply turn around again and say to Greg: ‘I’ll give you an extra twenty bucks if you can speed it up a bit.’

‘Amelia,’ I hear Dean say behind me and I clench my jaw out of frustration. I hate the way he says my name. I just hate him anyways. I can’t believe I was married to someone, who had the capability of hurting me so bad. ‘I still haven’t heard if I have Isabella over this weekend.’

I might’ve “forgotten” to text him. ‘She didn’t want to go,’ I simply tell him, ‘but she will think about going for the rest of the weekend, when she sees you tomorrow at the match.’

‘And Benji is still sure that he only wants me there?’ Dean wraps his arm around Mindy’ waist and I’m ready to stab my car keys or anything really in his eye. Why is he rubbing in that he has someone new, a younger model that he exchanged me for?

‘Benji is more than sure.’ I pay for my groceries and Greg hands me the plastic bag. ‘Thank you, Greg.’

‘Wish Benji good luck from me, will you?’ Greg says. ‘I’m not going to be able to make it tomorrow.’

‘So no snacks for us?’ I ask him, pushing my wallet back in my purse.

‘Sorry, Amelia, but I’ll put something behind the registry. When you guys come over, I’ll give you something to make up for it.’

‘You are amazing, Greg. Thank you.’ I look at Dean and say: ‘I’m serious, don’t go and bring,’—don’t say the toddler, Amelia, you have to be more mature than that and you are—‘her with you. Your son specifically asked for you and that means only you.’

I don’t even want to hear what he has to say about that, but I have known Dean for quite some time now: he has plenty to say. I walk to the lot and as I try and find my keys, when I hear a: ‘Hello Amelia.��

I look up so quickly, I nearly break my neck. ‘Coach Cavill,’ I say with a smile.

‘Henry, please.’

‘Excuse me, Henry. What are you doing here?’

‘Just going to get some snacks at the store,’ he explains.

Why going to get some snacks, when you are the only snack around? Thankfully I have the ability to shut my mouth, but I need to tell Eve this as soon as I get to her house. I bite my lip as I look at his outfit. I mean, he is a delicious looking man in his judogi. Normally men don’t wear shirts underneath it, but I do think he is aware that if he were to grace us with a glimpse of his bare chest, all the women would be dead in a heartbeat, me included.

But now, he is wearing jeans and a thick sweater and it looks so homey. I’m just going to put it out there: it’s an outfit that I have dreamed about, in a setting where he is sitting on our couch.

I simply nod. ‘Well, Benji really looks forward for tomorrow,’ I say. ‘He has been talking non stop about how great of a coach you are.’ It warmed my heart to hear Benji speaking so highly about his new coach, he barely does that. ‘He really doesn’t want to let you down.’

Benji always says that he doesn’t want to let me down. Not his dad, not Eve, not Johnny, not his grandparents, not even his sister, but only me. Hearing how there is someone else that he doesn’t want to let down, someone he met just this week, it makes me all sorts of happy. It’s all I ever wanted for my son, to have someone who shares his love for judo on a much deeper level.

I mean, sure, he and Johnny are close, he and my dad are close, but that is different. They don’t share his love for judo with him. Just like Dean and Benji never shared his love for judo. Their bond was never optimal.

Dean is loud, sometimes a bit crude and that was a bit too much for Benji from time to time. A real dad might tone it down a bit, however Dean is not a real dad, from my perspective of course.

‘Really?’ Henry smiles brightly, as he buries his hands in his pockets. ‘That’s always good to hear. I mean, whatever happens tomorrow, I’m proud of him anyways. Your son is an amazing judoka, Amelia. I’ve been training judoka’s for quite some time now, but Benji is on another level. I swear, the way that kid prepares before the throws, it’s quite something. Very unpredictable.’

Hearing other people gush about my children, is something that I always love, but hearing it from a coach who is new, but also seems like the type of man that really, really knows what he is doing, makes it extra special.

‘Really?’ I ask. ‘Wait, now it sounds like I’m actually surprised that he is good, while I know that Benji is amazing, but… His other coaches never gushed about him like you just did. And how long have you known him? A week?’

‘It comes with being a good coach, I guess,’ he says, with an even wider smile on his face. ‘When you see someone talented, you recognize it right away. I’m serious.’

‘Thank you for believing in him.’

‘That’s fairly easy when someone is that good,’ he tells me. ‘I’m not trying to infiltrate in yours and Benji’s life, but… I just have to ask. The divorce, it’s really hard on him, isn’t it?’

I sigh. ‘It is. I mean, it’s hard on both of my kids, but Isabella is really different. She understands that we are never getting back together, that her father is starting a new life and that I’m trying to do that too, but she never blames herself for it. Not one second. Benji on the other hand, keeps assuming it’s his fault. He keeps thinking if he was a better kid, a different kid, Dean wouldn’t have left.’

‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ Henry says. ‘It must be tough on the three of you.’

‘It is. I mean, Benji is so sweet, but he takes a lot too personal, while this whole divorce had nothing to do with him.’ I sigh deeply and add: ‘It’s good for him that he has another male role model in his life that he shares something so important with.’

Henry smiles and is that a little blush on his cheeks? ‘Happy to be that for him.’

I realize that what I’m saying now, belongs in a therapy session, not on a parking lot with my son’s hot judo coach ‘I’m so sorry, that’s too much information about a messy divorce you don’t want to hear about.’

‘No, I brought it up myself. It’s just that… I can see it with Benji, how much he is seeking for approval. Just let him know that I’m never going to be disappointed in him. No matter how he performs tomorrow and all the trainings and competitions after that.’

I blink my eyes, as I try to not cry. ‘I’ll let him know. Thanks, Henry, for everything.’

‘No problem, Amelia.’ He motions towards the store and says: ‘I’ve got to go, I’m terribly sorry.’

‘No, no, I understand,’ I quickly say. ‘Please, don’t let me stall you. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Isabella, Benji and I finally managed to sneak out of Eve’s house. Normally I’m not too strict with bed time, especially when it’s weekend, but we have to wake up pretty early tomorrow and I want Benji to feel fresh and fit for his match. I already gave Isabella a kiss, before I walk over to Benji’s room. He is scrolling through his phone and looks up with a smile.

‘Hi sweetheart, what are you doing?’

‘Just checking the opponents.’

‘Can I come in?’ I ask.

‘Of course, mom.’ Benji places his phone to the side, as I sit on the edge of his bed.

‘Benji, we have to talk.’

‘Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?’ His voice is dripping with worry. I should’ve worded it differently.

‘Oh, no, of course not. It’s just that… I ran into coach Cavill today at the grocery store and he wanted me to let you know that he is not going to be disappointed in you, no matter how you perform.’

Benji nods, as he leans with his back against the headboard of his bed. ‘I just don’t want to let him down, mom.’

‘And you’ll never will,’ I say to him, running my fingers through his hair.

‘Dad said that too,’ he mumbles.

I nod. ‘But he always was disappointed when you didn’t win gold,’ I fill in for him. ‘I know, but remember, your dad was overly competitive and was a failure in every single sport out there, thanks to his selfish personality. But you should remember, that not every man in your life is like him. Uncle Johnny and grandpa and even Greg from the store, they are all incredibly proud of you and those men don’t even understand judo. Imagine how proud coach Cavill is going to be, since you both share a love for judo.’

‘But, mom, what if he thinks that I’m not good enough?’

‘You are good enough, honey,’ I say with a smile. ‘And you always will be, for everyone around here and that means for coach too. He will always think that you are good enough, He even said that you were on another level today and he knows his stuff about judo. Remember again, he is not your dad.’

He sighs. ‘I’m scared for tomorrow.’

My sweet and worried Benji. ‘You want me to call coach for you? I think I have his number somewhere in my email. Maybe he can calm you down a bit, prepare you for tomorrow.’

He wants to appear a little tougher than he is, so he shakes his head, but his puppy eyes say something completely different. Thankfully my mom instincts have barely proved me wrong, because I grab my phone from my back pocket and scroll through my mail, trying to find the introduction email from Henry. I click on his phone number and bring the phone to my ear, while holding Benji’s hand even tighter in mine than before. ‘Henry,’ he says when he picks up.

‘Hi, this is Amelia.’

‘Oh, hi Amelia, what a nice surprise. Are you okay?’

This man is quite something else, asking if I’m okay. When was the last time that Dean asked me something like that? I think it was at least six months before I found out he was banging his intern Mindy Simpleton, so that makes it more than a year.

‘Yeah, I’m okay, but I have very a nervous young boy here, who doesn’t believe that he is good enough.’

‘That can’t be good.’ Henry says. ‘You want me to talk to him?’

‘If you want.’

‘Of course I want that. You can put Benji on.’

I hold out my phone for Benji and he hesitantly takes it out of my hand. ‘Hi, coach,’ he says and I stand up, as I clean up his room for a bit, making sure his sports bag is all packed and ready to go.  I know he should do that himself and he does, but it never hurts anyone to double check. ‘Yeah … No, I’m just worried … My mom said that too … Yeah, she is indeed … I’m sorry … No, I really am … I’ll see you tomorrow … Will do … Thank you … Of course.’ Benji holds out the phone for me and says: ‘Coach wants to say something to you.’

I take the phone and say: ‘Hi, it’s me again.’

‘I hope that worked.’

‘That was quick,’ I whisper, as I see Benji getting ready for bed, with a smile on his face. ‘How did you do that?’

‘I’m that amazing,’ he says. ‘No, just kidding. I recognize myself in him, so I know how he feels.’

There is so much I want to ask him. He recognizes himself in my son? Why doesn’t that match up in my head?

‘Anyway, just wanted to tell you that he is a great kid, he’ll do fine and that tomorrow I’ll be his coach and his coach only for that block.’

‘Could you wait for a second?’ I ask him. ‘Just real quick.’

‘Of course.’

I hold the phone away and ask Benji: ‘Are you okay, honey?’

‘I’m fine,’ he says.

‘Well, good night and I’ll see you tomorrow. Rise and shine at six.’

He groans. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, sweetheart, I’m sorry. It’s quite the drive.’ I give him a kiss on his forehead. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, mom.’

I smile at my handsome boy, before I walk out of his room, flicking off the light and closing the door. ‘I’m sorry you had to wait.’

‘You need to find better and more appropriate moments to apologize,’ he says. ‘You’re always apologizing, even when you shouldn’t.’

‘Yeah, it’s an annoying trait.’

‘Not annoying, little bit unnecessary.’

I walk downstairs and sit on a stool at the kitchen island. ‘It’s amazing, really,’ I say, ‘what you managed to do to him. I barely recognize him.’

‘What I said, I see a lot of him in me. It’s hard being that age and… Well, having to deal with a divorce.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What did I say about apologizing, Amelia?’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘This wasn’t an apology,’ I defend myself. ‘This was empathy, very nice of me. You should appreciate that.’

‘You’re right,’ he chuckles.

I sigh. ‘But it is hard on him. This town barely has experience with a divorce, especially if all parties stay in town. We’re all figuring out how to deal with it really.’

‘Yeah, I heard. After you and I saw each other at the lot, Greg told me who you ran into in the store.’

‘Greg, what a big fat blabbermouth. He was never like this back in high school, but the store changed him.’

‘He means well,’ Henry laughs. ‘I haven’t been here too long,’ he continues, ‘but I’ve heard quite some things going around about you and Dean and the kids. I just want you to know that you are doing an amazing job and that Dean is the one who lost out.’

I can’t help but blush and I’m so grateful that he can’t actually see me now. I bite my lip. ‘I just can’t believe that you arrive here when I’m in the spotlight of the town gossip.’

‘Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not interested in town gossip,’ he says. ‘I can tell you that I trust my own judgement a lot more than rumors.’

This shouldn’t make me tear up and I blink away my tears, before clearing my throat. ‘That means a lot.’

‘Of course.’ Henry’s voice is soft and I wonder what he is doing right now. Is he also in his kitchen, is he relaxing on his couch or was he doing work and have I interrupted him?

‘I have to hang up,’ I say. ‘There is a lot that I still need to do. Preparations for tomorrow and such. You want me to bring something for you? I’ve heard that I make great sandwiches.’

‘What a mom move,’ he laughs and a chuckle escapes from my lips. ‘But I’m never saying no to a great sandwich. I love everything, so surprise me.’

‘Will do. See you tomorrow, Henry.’

‘Yeah, see you tomorrow, Amelia.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Taglist: @diegos-butt​ // @henrythickcavill​ // @thelastsock​ // @onlyhenrys​ // @agniavateira​ // @needmorereading​ // @summersong69​ // @coldmuffinbanditshoe // @chamomilebottom // @toomanystoriessolittletime // @shadesofarrogance​ // @crazybutconfidentaf​ // @oddsnendsfanfics​ // @gearhead66​ // @star017​ // @iloveyouyen​ // @thereisa8ella​ // @thethirstyarchive // @nina-skyee // @rn7rocks // @hollytehmoomin // @star017 // @abschaffer2​ //

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {44}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. 

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

**Interactive**

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Chapter 44:   Surrender 

-Vixen-

 “A divorce Vix, really?”

 You sighed and did your best to ignore her. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy especially now that she found out.

 “You can’t ignore me Vixen. I’m like your conscience, your voice of reason. I speak to that part of you that isn’t so withdrawn, the part that wants love, and connection. How do you think you’re going to get any of that by divorcing the man who wants to love you, the man who is trying to connect with you?”

 “Nex, let’s not,” you began opening your laptop.

 “No, we’re going to.” She came around and slammed it shut again. You gave her an exasperated look.

 “No, I’m not afraid of you. One why didn’t you tell me about this? Two, a divorce, is that really what you want? Have you thought about this?”

 You really didn’t want to do this. You were already barely hanging on.

 “Yes. I’m sure and I have thought about it. What else was I supposed to do Nex? We’re complete strangers. We live in two different worlds, there is no way anything can—this was the right call.”

“You’re full of shit. I know how you feel about him. I know how you’ve always felt about him. You can deny it all you want and ignore it and pretend that you have no feelings for him, but I know the truth. Why can’t you just let him in?”

 “I did that twice Nex! I let him in three years ago and he fucked me literally and broke my heart. Then three years later I did it again against my better judgment, against every single alarm inside my head. I did it and surprise, fucking surprise he fucked me again. I am done Nex, I am so fucking done!”

 “Both times you made the same fucking mistake. Both times you bit your tongue, you cut yourself off, you distanced yourself, you pulled a Heisman. Both times you were never all in,” Nexus accused.

 “For good fucking reason. Why would I be all in with a man who has shown me time and time again why he’s not trustworthy, who shows me how different we are, who shows me why I have these defenses why my freedom is the most paramount thing in the world?!”

 “Just say you’re scared and get it over with. You’re scared you’re so in love with him that he can do no wrong and have you fall out of love with him. Hell, you’ve been in love with him for three fucking years and still, you love him. he fucked you over again and you still love him.”

 “And I hate him for it!”

 Silence filled the room. There is was.

 “Vix, there is a thin line between love and hate. What you are forcing as hate could really be such a love that scares you.”

 “Nex, I am so drained. I have never been more drained in my life and that includes being pregnant, going to culinary school, and going through labor while I finish exams. I am tired.”

 “Then stop running. Yes he fucked up, twice, he should have told you, he should have never taken your choice away from you. I am not condoning it at all, but I understand.”

 “Of course you do. Why am I not surprised. You always understand everything he does.”

 “Because I choose to. You choose to shut it down, lock it away and never address it. You choose to hope it goes away, but Vix it won’t go away. It’s like a scab, it will keep itching and crusting unless you treat it. Face your fears baby sister, face them and grab them by the horns and take your happiness, take your life back. This isn’t living.”

 With your back to her, you stared out the window. You hated when she got this involved. The way you handled things it worked; it had been working. you couldn’t afford to go back to that woman from three years ago. Thankfully your phone rang distracting you from the conversation.

 “Hello? Hi Charmaine. No, you’re not interrupting anything. How can I help you?”

 You listened to her give you up to date information from Chris’ lawyers and every word she spoke made your heart beat faster and your mind race.

 “No, I’m here. Sorry. Um—so that means what exactly?” She spoke again and when she stopped you knew you should have said something but words failed you.

 “Thank you. I have to go.” You hung up and took several breaths.

 “Who is that?”

 “My divorce lawyer,” you informed.

 “Wow, you’re serious about this shit. Unbelievable. What did she say?”

 “Chris’ lawyers informed her that per Chris, he doesn’t want anything from me. Whatever I had three years ago and since he doesn’t want any of it.”

 “No shit!” You looked at her, she looked impatient as if she was sick and tired of you.

 “He also said that he won’t fight me for custody, he doesn’t want joint custody, he just wants access to her when he can in San Fran.”

 “Again, no shit. I’ve told you that he is not like that and you know he’s not like that. You know exactly who he is and always have. You saw the real him that night in Vegas, the him that you fell for and decided to be carefree with. He’s not an asshole Vix.”

 “She said that if I want half of what he has he will not contest it.”

 There was silence now, both of you letting that nugget sink in. He was giving you access to everything he owned, no fight. It showed a disregard for it like none of it mattered.  

 “Yep.” Nexus shook her head then sighed.

 “Look, Vix, you’re on the right path to being alone forever, the right path to just let the one man who actually is your equal, your potential match slip right through your hands. You are on the right path to not making sure that Ella’s relationship with him is not the best it can be, the right path of stealing such a happy family and future from her. So, if that is what you want then continue because the outcome is inevitable.”

 Once she said the words she walked out leaving you standing there shaking from the impact of what she said. You were going to fall apart; it was only a matter of time.  You already didn’t know if you’d made the right decision. You knew you sided with your fear instead of your heart and what made it worse was you felt completely incapable of taking a chance.

 Pushing the conversation with Nex away you focused on the tasks for the evening. You walked out of your office and looked out and down to the space below. The restaurant was coming together nicely. It was T minus four days before the grand opening and you were so close to the finish line you could see it.

“Amazing isn’t it?” Beside you, Kassius looked down at the view you were looking.

 “It is. I can’t believe that we’re getting so close.”

 “You worked hard for this Vixen. I can’t wait for it to pay off. This place looks incredible. You are going to blow minds on Saturday.”

 You smiled and felt the excitement bubbling within you. You sure hoped so. It would suck to put this much work, tears, and sweat into something and it be a horrible failure.

 “Don’t worry. This is what I do for a living. I take chances but only on things I’m sure about. I’m sure about you Vixen. You’ll see.” He patted your back then walked away. You took a deep breath and tried to knock it into your head that you were going to crush the opening.

 The rest of the evening you did your best to stay present and work with the crew that was left there. No job was too small for you, you chipped in and got your hands dirty. Nothing was beneath you. When you left that night you were pleasantly surprised to see that none of the paps were outside. For the first time in weeks, you took a deep breath and walked to your car. You thanked your security and drove down the near abandoned street.

 While finishing your errands at the pharmacy you saw the tabloid rack and scanned the covers. At least six of them were about you and Chris. This was still a big adjustment seeing your face plastered on tabloid magazines and having people so interested in everything about you. Over the last week, you’d scanned some of the gossip sights and had read some hurtful things that people were saying but also read some kind ones. It was a toss of the dice type of situation.

One of the covers had Chris’ face on it in the center, but there were several women circling him. The white headlines were all about his history with each of them. When you read the words, your interest piqued. “Chris Evans Married but quite the impressive list of mistresses over the years.” You couldn’t believe the nerve of these gossip magazines.

 “What if we were happily married and I saw this?”

 You bought the magazine and made it home to find Ella asleep and dinner in the microwave. After a shower, you sat down with a bottle of wine and ate in the dim light of the kitchen. You flipped through the article and saw pictures of him with the women. They were all beautiful, all sexy and all completely different. One of the two things they looked to have in common was the color of their hair. They were all brunette or brunettes with highlights. They all were also white. You knew that you were probably the only woman of color he’d associated with but to see his entire dating history laid out for you cemented it.

 For the next near hour, you sat there comparing yourself to these tall, slim, blue-eyed, actresses and models and tried not to feel any jealousy. He’d gotten around these last three years. While you were steering clear of the opposite sex, he was fucking his way through Hollywood. It made you think back to what he’d said the night at your house that he’d thought of you all these years and been in love with you. Looking at his little black book before you made you want to shout bullshit. You also tried not to be too critical on yourself for being so different from them or let your insecurities flare-up. You wondered why you and if you were some phase he had to work through.

 It took you almost two hours to realize the postal envelope across the kitchen. When you took it up you saw your name on it but no sender information. When you looked inside the envelope you froze for a few moments before you emptied out its contents onto the counter. Before you were items you hadn’t seen in years, items you’d almost forgotten about. Items you’d ran out of his house without.

 You slowly examined the items beginning with your golden anklet. You’d searched for it for weeks until you accepted you’d lost it somewhere in Vegas or LA. It was one of your favorite pieces of jewelry and you missed it. You then moved on to the lace bra and panties you were wearing the night you were at Chris’. You hesitated touching them, afraid somehow you’d be bombarded with memories. Finally, you took up the bra and smelled it, it still smelled like your perfume, a perfume you still wore every once in a while.

 “My god.”

 Your eyes landed on the golden ring on the counter. The last time you’d touched it was to slide it onto his finger. Suddenly you felt as if you’d run a marathon from your racing heart to your sweaty palms. You took up his wedding band and slowly examined it.

 “He’d held on to all of this, this whole time.”

 Your shock was evident. You couldn’t believe it and didn’t know why he still had any of this especially your underwear. You must have stood there staring at his ring for an hour or so. Everything from the last few months raced through your head, every conversation, every smile, touch, every quiet night together and every genuine moment. You began to wonder if he’d been truthful the whole time. Wondered if you had it in you to take that leap that was required.

 Walking over to your bag, you pulled your phone free and found his contact.

 MSG: 9-1-1. Cathy’s corner where we had tacos.

You shoved the items into a Ziploc bag, grabbed your bag and hurried out the door in your car without a thought to your attire. The drive was relatively quick because of the hour. The streets were mostly abandoned and the further you drove into Mulholland Drive the darker they got. When you pulled up to the spot where you sat with him a few weeks ago you stared out over the city lights. It was still a beautiful view. 

After a minute you worried that it was too little too late, worried that this was too far to come back from. You’d pushed too far.

 After a few more minutes, you saw bright headlights pull up the drive, then the car screeched to a halt beside yours at an angle that blocked your bumper. You watched as Chris jumped out his car wearing a men’s tank and dark sweatpants.

 “What’s the matter? Is it Ella? Is she okay? Are you hurt?” His words rushed out one after the other as he approached you. Once he was before you his eyes scanned your body. You then held up the items in front of his face.

 “Why did you hold on to these?”

 Chris’ expression changed from worry to confusion, then annoyance. “Vixen, are you kidding me? You text me 911. I'm running red lights, switching lanes, honking like a mad man thinking something was seriously wrong with you or Ella. You can't text 911 if it's not 911!”

 He sounded exasperated as he rubbed his forehead. Ignoring his rant you asked again.

“Why did you hold on to these? You could have thrown them out.”

 “I should have,” Chris dryly responded with little emotion on his face.

 “Yeah. So?” Chris didn’t speak for a few seconds. He then rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head.

 “I couldn't. I--I--,” he stuttered before he let out a loud groan while he ruffled his unkempt hair. With a grunt, he walked away from you before turning back to you once there was space between you.

 “What are we doing here? What do you want?”

 “Tell me why you couldn't,” you countered.

 “No. You tell me why I'm here. I've said everything I need to say. What do you want?”

 “Everything. It's my one fatal flaw. I want it all. I want the incredibly successful, fulfilling career that everyone envies, and I want the perfect, loving, sexy, guy who is head over heels in love with me and will give me everything I want. I want him to love me completely. I want him to never leave and have me be his only dream. I want my amazing little girl who is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I want to keep her happy and help her grow to be the best version of herself. I want happiness, peace, and joy. I want everything!”

 Chris scoffed and shook his head looking at you as if this was no surprise. “No surprise there. What does that have to do with me?”

 “My career is getting there. I am so close to getting what I want, so close to fulfilling my dreams there. My little girl is amazing, she was born amazing and she is happy and growing; or she was happy until she didn't get to see her daddy as much as she had been lately. Ironically, a daddy she'd lived without for years and now can't seem to forget him after only a few short months. She loves you so much and it makes my heart so full and warm. I want her to be happy again and the only way that can happen is if I find a way to be strong enough, a way to be brave to stand here and tell you that I've never felt nothing for you.”

 Your heart was racing a mile a minute and the fear you felt was real, but you also knew you couldn’t just stop there. Chris didn’t move, and his face gave nothing away. He was unreadable, you hated it. Guess it was your turn to suffer with it now.

 “Since we met even though I heavily drank and got drunker and drunker I felt things for you I'd never felt before. I was able to talk to you and open up to you in a way I only do with Nex. It was insane what we did getting married like that, but I know without a doubt I wanted it. That night at your house you hurt me but only because I thought we were on the same page I thought you felt what I did, and it turned out you didn't. Boston--of course it meant something,” you confessed. That was when Chris’ face glitched with emotion.

 “What?”

 It was do or die time, you thought.

 “I haven't been with anyone since you. No dates, no kissing, well except Zack but that meant nothing. There has been no one. I haven't let there be anyone and I tricked myself into believing it was because I didn't have the time or the energy but I didn't want to invest again or get my hopes up only to get hurt and the truth was I never got over you. I never fell out of love with you.”

 The way he stared at you was only making your heart pound harder and the butterflies flit through your stomach more. He still stood there not moving, not encouraging or discouraging your newfound candidness. Turning away you walked to your car and dug into your purse for the desired item then walked back to him. You held up the papers so he could see.

 “Thought you were going to file those. I signed them over a week ago.”

 “You did,” you answered before you ripped them once, then twice. You attempted a third, but it was tough. A small smile spread across his face before he walked closer to you. Still, he didn’t touch you.

 “Your mother said something to me in Boston, she said, "fate only brings us what is meant and letting something go and it coming back should not be let go again especially if it's what you want."

 He nodded his head as if he agreed. “Sounds like my mom.”

 “Smart woman. Fate brought you to me in Vegas, you let me go, fate said no and gave me Ella, then fate brought me to you, and I've tried to let go. I can't. I have to stop running.” Saying those words felt surreal. All the self-help books said acceptance was the first step then admittance, you just did both in the same breath.

 “Are you saying we're meant to be?” The curiosity and amusement on his face weren’t missed. You were relieved, you thought he’d be angry to see you after what you’d said.

 “Do you think we are?”

 Chris gazed deeply into your eyes and closed the remaining space between you, but still, he didn’t touch you. You wanted him to, but you’d wait.

“You're the only one meant for me. I love you Vixen, I always have, I always will.” Chris softly trailed the back of his hand across your cheek caressing it. A smile spread over your face as joy filled you. Chris looked scared, worried even.

 “I love you too, Chris. I always have and apparently no matter what idiotic plan you concoct, I always will.” 

 The two of you smiled the goofiest smiles ever then pressed your lips together in a sweet kiss. A kiss that increased in passion as the seconds ticked by. Before either of you got carried away, Chris pulled back and stared at you with a serious look on his face.

 “So no divorce?”

 “Nope. I’m so sorry. I ruined everything and hurt you. I hate that I hurt you, I hate that I said those things to you. My god Chris, I’m so sorry.”

 Chris didn’t speak, instead, he took the ripped papers that you still held and ripped them three more times before he flung them in the air. At that moment, the breeze picked up and blew them away scattering them around. The two of you stood there watching them drift in the night sky with sentimental smiles on your faces. 

 “Matter of fact,” Chris began. When you looked to him you were in time to see him drop down onto one knee. That was all it took for the tears to well in your eyes. Chris held onto your hands as he stared at you. You could see everything in his eyes and for the first time, you didn’t doubt any of what you saw.

 “Vixen Star Giovanni-Evans, the last time I did this I was drunk off my ass but even drunk me knew without a doubt that you were something to hold on to. The last three years have not been easy, and they have been quite unconventional. We've both grown so much and accomplished so much. I can say that I am a better man because of meeting you three years ago. I am a better man today. A man that is not only ready but begging for a second chance; a chance to love you properly; a chance to build a life with you, grow even more with you; a chance to be the man that loves you unconditionally; a chance to be the husband I've always envisioned myself, the father I've wanted to be. Will you spend the rest of your life with me, will you allow me to stand by your side and take care of you and show you every single day just what you mean to me? Will you be the mother of my six kids? Will you marry me—again--but for the last time.”

 You laugh throwing your head back and rejoicing in the feel of happiness, a happiness that you hadn’t felt in so long. You pulled him up to stand before you then pressed your forehead on his chest. You allowed your tears to fall freely unabashedly.

 “Are you sure?”

 Chris swiped the pad of his thumbs across your cheeks drying the tears as they fell. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life as I am sure that I want to be married to you until the day I die.”

 “Goddamn!”

 “Yes, but we may have to revisit six kids.”

 Chris smiled widely and shook his head dismissing the notion.

 “Nope. Six. One down, five to go.”

 Your laugh was loud, and you didn’t care. You kissed him again and again and again hoping that this was the beginning of making up for the time you’d been apart and the beginning of building a beautiful life together.

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[comradelionheart]

This is where I feel safest.

In the blueness of this site, held in comfort as if under my blanket of soft fur.

No one here will ever know who I am or the people I speak of. No one can find me here. I have a questionable habit of running off to avoid being witnessed when I fail or am in pain, and this is where I run to. It is luckily not a boy this time. Well, it’s sort of that too, but not predominantly.

I haven’t shut G out this time. When I thought I’d lost my shot at the job I deleted my WhatsApp and all other social media, and refused to surface until I was willing to face people again. This isn’t unlike when I graduated college uncertain of what to do with life next and just... vanished. I’d a pretty promising presence on Facebook that could potentially have introduced him and I sooner, but I guess life unravels at its own pace and nothing can force it to go sooner or slower. I’ve grown rather accepting of failures because I have unfortunately grown accustomed to them. It’s almost like I expect to meet with resistance or failure each time something nearly works out and in this case I can’t say I willed it upon myself. I literally tested positive for TB. Which is amusing since those are my ex’s initials, and is yet another TB which seems to be hampering my progress. 

Dry humour is what I’m best at if I’m being my authentic self. I must unfortunately smile and wave because I’m a woman and need to be likeable to get anywhere in my line of work. That isn’t to say I’m a sociopath or hate people. I just wish I didn’t have to pretend to be interested in their lives and feign amusement at their not so novel ideas. Pretty sure I’ve not so novel ideas too, but I don’t need to be indulged for the sake of my (not) fragile ego. Anyhow.

I applied for this job early in the year and didn't expect to hear from them (because the first few years of my work life had me flailing and coping with depression instead of steering my career, and I know I shouldn’t grudge her for this but I do). But I did hear from them. And everything went through. Including 3 rounds of aptitude tests and a personal interview (which I thought I bombed but didn't somehow). Until I tested positive on a skin patch test for TB. Why do these stupid standard sets of tests get prescribed world over? Honestly, if I’m ever supreme leader of anywhere I will ban standardised tests. Not in the way that I say medicine is a sham, not at all, but in the way that WE LIVE IN THE THIRD WORLD AND WILL OF COURSE HAVE TAKEN THE BCG OR HAVE BEEN EXPOSED TO THE BACTERIA AT SOME POINT BUT IT’S NOT NECESSARILY EVER GOING TO BE ACTIVE SO USE A BETTER AND MORE CONTEXT SPECIFIC TEST INSTEAD OF GIVING ME ANXIETY AND EXISTENTIAL CRISES LIKE THESE, JFC. 😭😭😭

But I’ve taken the other test and that’s also got the drawback of being unable to differentiate between inert and active TB. So I took an HRCT scan. I’m so sick of running around hospitals, there’s a literal virus in the air. But Monday is when I’ll know the medical verdict. And then there’s the whole security check process. I hate when this happens but I’ve lost so much time to grief, I simply cannot sit around moping any longer. 

Earlier this year I interviewed with the **. I was given a verbal confirmation and had a text message implying an offer was made to me, because I received an acknowledgement to my acceptance of an offer. If I was the person I was in 2014, I’d have kicked up a fuss and made sure that offer was honoured, but 2021 me knows that working with bosses who go back on their word slyly and cave to nepotism usually need their cocks sucked. And I’m not only incapable of that, but have also dealt with enough workplace harassment elsewhere to be adamant about a brand at the risk of my mental health. But really, he can go suck it because I have confirmation from staff that he is EVERYTHING I read him to be. I’m not intuitive or anything, I just read people very well because I was hurt so bad by them (repeatedly since childhood) that reading people became a thing I did for survival. My sharp instincts serve me well, but are a trauma response. I am very self aware too, yes.

I then interviewed and got through an NGO that was willing to pay me 24L. I turned it down because the founders were running around like headless chicken with their inability to distinguish PR from Marketing Comms (me) from Marketing for business development. I know I was being paid a lot of money, but I will not kill myself performing all three functions while being acknowledged for just the one on my offer letter. I’ve learned to value my labour capacity and assert myself in the economic and political spheres. 

Personally though? I sometimes still think I’m a romantic pushover.

But this is about work because I need to weep a little before being calm about how this year has treated me. Especially since I’m maintaining a cool demeanour in public and literally hate sharing things I’m burdened with. Idk man, it makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like feeling like I’ll get a knife twisted in the spot that's most sore. I AM SCREAMING BECAUSE I HAVE LET G WITNESS ME IN PAIN THIS TIME INSTEAD OF RUNNING AWAY and will someday file copyright over An Enduring Romantic because that’s very honestly me. But ofc it isn’t going to be the legal Copyright, just the sham notice like the one I’d sent him to up his Instagram game. Or he could just operate my Twitter and I’ll run his gram. It’ll even feel natural.

Sometime around May an environmental journal asked me to come on board. Work from the office at the height of the pandemic with no travel compensation and very little money. I turned them down. Then came II**. Which I again turned down because they wouldn’t pay market rate for skills I’ve perfected in 4 years just because they wanted 8 years experience on paper for my quotation. I will do a lot for causes I love, but I also really enjoy being paid fairly and acknowledged for the value I bring to the table.

Then came the start up in Del. Which I turned down because the uncle running it in his wife’s name expected 24*7 labour availability for 12L with no health insurance.

The latest in my list of things I’ve turned down is the ** Gov. Which I can obviously go back to since my reason for turning it down was another job, but 14 days of leave all year? 7 day work week if needed? Hell no. I enjoy having labour rights. But also when I told the dude I’d be reporting to if I accepted that I cant accept due to covid concerns his reaction was “sure, send me an email so we can start looking for someone else immediately.” Like.... we just had a second wave, what if something was wrong? I wouldn’t risk losing my job because they expect work even if I were hypothetically coughing up blood. So best not to touch with a bargepole. Now I’m less sad, but also really hope the TB results are negative. This job I want and have said yes to ticks off all of the boxes in my head and I will truly be disappointed if I lose it to disease paranoia despite being completely suited and picked for the role 😞

Just to be on the safer side, I have taken one last shot at achieving my goal of ‘learn how political systems work so you know what you’re talking about first hand in that PhD.’ I hope my Plan A works out instead, though.

Since I’ve brought him up in this, it will be interesting to note that a year ago I did the erstwhile unthinkable act of cutting a friend of for attempting to steal a man I love. A year ago to the date, literally. Funny how this year is more calm, but I was maxed out on endorphins from him last year. Until this March even, if I’m being truthful. I don’t regret cutting her off.She crossed a vvvv red line. ALL my other friends are celebrating. They detested her. 

Another thing that happened last year was me letting him know that I only get hotter with time, but along with this work drama I have also had a run in with intense grief which I thought was a mood disorder (because it was intense, I mentioned?), cholesterol, thyroid, sugar addiction and now, le TB (PLEASE BE A FALSE POSITIVE YESU KRISTU HALP). So needless to say, I haven’t been most fabulous and undergone my physical transformation and these mental health struggles (are getting better now) strapped me to my couch along with the pandemic and its many lockdowns. I have also not studied for the GRE because I’m stimulus seeking via social media and fear of sucking at math has kept me locked in place. I still have a lot to work through on this front and would really like to make his cover right too, but my creativity isn't working and I keep fucking it up. I am not as spectacular as I was last year. The separation has also weathered my dazzle out a little and while I’m living with it, I still have small waves of sadness that show up once in a while.

I might have also accidentally flirted with someone into falling for me. It was all fun and games and for my pride, but now I’ve to gently let them down since I’ve cold feet and am chicken. Because I’m as emotionally unavailable as a streetlamp. Is this why they call me a Gurgaoni fuckboi?

[atlasira]

I think heavens secret is more black and white because it’s literally either heaven or hell there’s nothing more black and white than that. The malbonte route is more in the middle though

the malbonte route confused the heck out of me in the beginning. because first they said malbonte didn’t want equality and actually wanted the demons to rule over the angels (skip to 9:32). so at first i wasn’t with that either. but then they changed it in season 2 to that malbonte did want equality actually. idk it was confusing to me, but i def grew to side more with season 2 malbonte’s ideas.

but anyways, i dont really know which post this ask is referring to because i’ve made several since i cant keep my mouth shut rip, so im just going to assume all of them. like i said in my mimi and lucifer post, the defense “ofc things are black and white, its heaven/angels and hell/demons” doesnt really work because there are too many times when things become gray. 

lord i think this is referring to my angel and harmony post, right? im sorry my brain is scrambled right now lol i just woke up. but yeah, you can’t really say things are black and white because theyre really not. if things were black and white, than the demons would be irredeemable villains and the angels undoubtedly heroes. if the story was actually as black and white as heaven and hell are culturally “supposed” to be, then several things would fall apart:

the friend group would not exist. adi and sammy wouldnt even have a relationship and would just be sworn enemies. adi especially wouldnt have had the reaction to sammy’s death that he did, and probably wouldve rejoiced at it. mimi and an angel mc wouldnt get along at all, so much so, that mimi wouldve probably tried to murder mc in her sleep since they slept in the same room.

fencio wouldve never helped malbonte and never treated others, including his own son, the way he does. mc wouldve never even been killed. the story itself would cease to exist.

a love triangle dino wouldve never beat lucifer to a pulp. angels dont work like that bro. especially bc lucifer was defenseless and never even fought back. it was dino just going to town on an unsuspecting lucy. 

lucifer and mimi would be incapable of being LIs. theyre demons. they’re supposed to be just the embodiments of evil and malice. things such as love, friendship, and etc. would not be things they understand or care for.

the angels wouldnt be assholes. with fencio, crowley, rebecca, and etc. they’d be Just™️ and Wholesome™️ all the time.

this is why i said it’s frustrating. its like the story says the world is morally gray and then switches and says it isn’t. both cant be true. either things are clear cut (demons = bad, angels = good) or theyre not (angels can be assholes, demons can be compassionate). 

[borusawa]

The Last Day of The Year

A/N: This is my way to say happy new year to all of you, including everyone from dicord (guys i love you). Special thanks for @shikastemari @mirachaann - and @abbypdg, ofc - for stand my complainings about this oneshot during the last days of the year and for making me go to sleep when needed... anyway, love you guys too much to put in words.

Pairings: BoruSara

Beta reader: @abbypdg, thank you so much for being always there for me. please know that i’m also always here for you.

Warnings: rated M because things may get a little nasty at some point, not that much but still.

Word count: 3,283

On the last day of the year, Sarada woke up earlier than usual. She wanted to train before she had to attend to her commitments with her friends and teammates; that’s why she started the day with a cold shower and putting fresh clothes right after. She went out before either of her parents woke up and she got to the training fields noticing her loneliness. Sarada didn’t mind, this only make her happier. Nobody to bother her, but also nobody to make company. She was used to it by now.

It was a special day after all. It was the last day of the yea.

Probably everybody was in the warmth of their homes, heat fed not only by the fire in the chimneys but also by the feeling of being with someone you love. It was a day to recall memories and pray for the incoming year and Sarada knew that she just… didn’t believe in any of that crap. Her training was more important, her dreams were more important, being fully concentrated was more important. And she did that. She focused on them. Although she knew there was a lot that deserved celebration, the time couldn’t stop for that.

“I knew I would find you here.”

“What do you want, baka Boruto?”

“There’s no need to be rude, Sarada.” A blond-haired boy got by her side, his blue eyes looking at her. She didn’t stop her shuriken training, not even for a moment to look at him. “Why are you training today? We should be having fun.”

“What do you mean?” She stared at him and he blushed, noticing the double meaning of his last statement.

“N-not me and you fun, dattebasa, all of us, I mean, our friends…” Boruto sighed. “What I’m saying is that we should hang out with our friends, that’s all.” He could feel the blush get even redder.

Sarada smirked. “Why not you and me fun?” She winked at him and he felt the cold sweat down his spine.

“Stop messing with me, dattebasa!” Sarada started to laugh and once she stopped, she concentrated on her training again. “You really won’t stop, right?”

“I can’t stop, different of you I have a goal to achieve. I cannot simply stop.” When she was about to throw another shuriken, he held her wrist.

“No, stop.” She turned to look at him. She could feel his touch leaving her wrist and slowly getting into her hand and taking the shuriken, while the other hand removed a strain of hair away from her face. “Not today, Sarada. You need to give peace to yourself. Today is a nice day to do that.” Sarada only nodded, incapable of saying actual words due to his touch. She swallowed hard when his left hand slowly left her hair behind the ear and moved to caress her face, giving up in middle way. She wanted to say that he didn’t need to stop, that she wanted his touch, that she wanted him. But it was the last day of the year, not the “truth” day so she only sighed as both acted as if the floor was suddenly the best thing around. The silence that fell between them said more than they wanted.

Sarada breathed heavily, knowing she was about to regret her decision. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m what?” Boruto grinned unconsciously while looking at her again.

“I shouldn’t spend this day here.” She smiled at him.  They looked each other in the eyes for a while and then she proceeded to gather her equipment. Soon they were heading back to the village.

He had both his hands behind his head. Sarada stared him, walking a little behind. They grew up together and she saw his funny face every day, but still she couldn’t deny that he had become even prettier through the years. Every single detail of him made her heart beat faster, and it was getting harder staying by his side without thinking about stuff she didn’t want to. She shook her head.

“Did you come here just to pick me up?”

Boruto tilted his head to the side. “Isn’t that obvious?” Sarada did nothing but smile.

He always cared so much about her and her well-being… Sometimes, before going to sleep, she thought about him and wondered if he was still planning to be by her side and protect her. Deep in her heart she wanted him to do all he promised and more. Sarada was only worried about what more could mean. He was her best friend after all.

“Today is the last day of the year, right? Any new years’ resolution?” Sarada started. They were still relatively distant from the village so she thought she could use the time to talk.

Boruto chuckled. “I guess so. What about yours?”

“What was that chuckle for?” she smirked.

Boruto eyes widened and that did not left unnoticed by the girl. “Nothing, nothing.”

“You’re hiding something. Spit it.” She narrowed her eyes and she pointed him with her index finger.

Boruto couldn’t hide the smirk. Actually, he was not even trying. “I’m not! You are the one hiding something, why don’t you tell me your resolutions?”

“I have none.” She crossed her arms. “But I asked for yours first.”

“What about I tell you mine tonight and you think about yours so you can tell me too?” Boruto turned to face her.

“Why tonight?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Cause we are going out together.” Sarada thought she was going to faint. Her heart was beating fast in her veins and her arms fell on the sides. “What do you say?” He smirked even more if it was possible.

“Out? Are you playing with me?”

“Not at all. I want to go on a date with you.” He stared into her eyes intently. He wanted to know how she truly felt, not what she would say about the limits they should have or so. At that point, Boruto could read her body language like no one else and he was totally ready to use it in his advantage. He also knew she was about to give an excuse to escape the date as always.

“But that’s not how we work. You know how we work.”

“I know, I just think we deserve better than that. You should give us a shot.”

Sarada breathed heavily. She already gave many shots. They were working fine at the way they were at the moment, why changing it? She shook her head and giggled, not believing in his words. She sure wanted to say yes, but at the same time, dating was not for them. Not now, at least. Sarada had a lot to focus on and dating was far from focus, but at the same time, it looked like he really wanted to take them seriously.

She sighed. “Okay, I accept your request. But only because I don’t want us to spend the new years’ start alone and my parents are going to be out of town so it’s you or nothing.”

“I’m happy you said yes.” He gave one of his bright smiles. “And I’m winning from nothing, that’s a good sign.”

Boruto got closer. Sarada didn’t shiver or avoid his touch when he got his arm around her waist and his other hand started to play with her hair. The opposite happened and she hugged him back, relaxing the head against his chest. She took a deep breath, his good smell getting quickly into her head. Did he always smell so good? Since they defined their boundaries that was the first time she felt that she was the one willing to disrespect them. He rested his chin above her head.

“You know you win from most things.”

“Really?” Boruto chuckled. “Then why aren’t we together?”

Sarada sighed. Why weren’t they together? She couldn’t find a way to say this. She wanted to experiment things and achieve her dreams before settling down. It may sound too confident, but she only knew she would settle down with Boruto as soon as they started to get serious. Why the wait then? She couldn’t find a way to say this. Of course, the games they played together were tiring sometimes, but it always paid off when they were together-alone in a dark room doing what they did best as a non-couple. The best part was that she knew there was no need to worry about calling the other day – even though they always did, she didn’t need to – nor having to be romantic on special dates. She didn’t get the hands holding or the title but, what use is possible to get with those? Sarada had what she needed, and Boruto had what he needed. It was supposed to be enough.

Sarada moved a little so she could look at her little problem. They usually didn’t kiss if not when having sex – that was rule number two – but if the dating had become a thing now – which disrespected rule number one – a kiss would not be that bad. They were still in the training grounds, no one was around and he was just so hot. She couldn’t find a reason why not. One look, that was all it took for him to understand what she wanted. Their faces got closer and she closed her eyes. Their lips were brushing nicely against each other and she could feel his smile. It felt like they were going to have their first kiss and even though that was not true, that was how it felt.

“So there you are guys.” They broke apart quickly before their lips met. Mitsuki appeared out of nowhere like, well, Mitsuki. Sarada was hiding her face with both hands and Boruto had a hand resting on his hip, doing his best to avoid facing his teammates. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.” Sarada answered.

“Yes.” Boruto said.

“Everyone is waiting for you, you’re late.” Mitsuki replied tilting his head to look at Boruto who – Mitsuki was pretty sure – was cussing really low.

Sarada glared at Boruto. “No, Mitsuki, don’t worry. It’s fine. We were going anyway.”

When they started to walk again, Mitsuki thought it was a nice moment to share his thoughts. “I always thought you guys made a nice couple.”

“SHUT UP!” The ‘nice couple’ shouted.

 In the last day of the year, after the encounter with her friends Sarada did what Boruto asked her and thought about her new year’s resolutions. She didn’t buy that shit about making promises impossible to keep for one whole year. She decided to make a list of possible things like, help her mother more, drink more water, read at least four nonfictions. Don’t fall in love. You know, possible things. When he knocked on the door, she was prepared. Both mentally and physically.

She opened the door. He knew she was all alone.

“You’re stunning.” He said after a moment of losing his words at the way she dressed.

“You too.” She managed to say without stutter.

“I’m not saying you look stunning now. I mean you’re always stunning.” Sarada felt her cheeks burn but Boruto seemed satisfied by his words and their effect on her.

He handed her a flowers’ bouquet and, well, she wasn’t waiting for that. “You… Thank you.” A smile spread on her face. She opened more the door so he could enter. “I’ll put these on a vase with water. Come in.”

Boruto entered through her door and acted as if it was his house, which was somewhat true nowadays. He was nervous; he’d been planning that for weeks by then. He felt like it was a different day, the last day of the year, so she could give him a chance he never had before. Sarada entered the kitchen and took too long to go back to him. Out of anxious, he started to pace around. The kitchen door opened.  They almost bumped into each other.

Eyes met. Unconscious smile.

A new feeling grew in her heart. Is that how love feels like? She wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t even sure what that was. She just wanted to kiss him and make the pain in her chest go away – pain probably caused by the distance between them. This was the last day of the year and for once she wished the rules didn’t existed.

“Sarada, we should go now.” His gaze never left hers.

“Yes, we totally should.” She whispered giving a step towards him, who unconsciously mimicked her act making them get closer.

“I’m being serious right now.” Another step and they were only inches apart.

“I know.” One more step and Sarada was feeling his hot breath on her face.

Boruto cautiously guided his hand to the small of her back while her hands started to travel through his chest, intending to get into his shoulder. Sarada was almost raising her body on the tips of her feet only to finally feel how he lips tasted, when there was no needy screaming behind it. She was finally close to find out how he really wanted to kiss her. She needed to know if it was slow and passionate or filled only by desire as she was used to. He made their bodies get closer than she thought it was possible. His other hand slide through her hair and finally, when their lips were - once more - brushing against each other they heard a knock.

“WHAT IS IT NOW?” Both shouted, frustration drawing in their voices.

Sarada rolled her eyes and walked to the door. Himawari looked young and innocent.

“Hello, Sarada, is onii-chan here?”

Sarada smiled. “Yes.” Then she shouted to Boruto informing about the girl’s presence.

Sarada didn’t stay to hear the subject of their talk, her mind far from there, attached in what happened moments before and earlier on the training field. She wondered if that was some kind of sign and they should give up. No, not giving up today.

“Ready? We really should go.” Boruto said, keeping the door open behind him.

“Yes, of course.”

They left the house and walked side by side. Sarada didn’t know to where, but she blindly trusted him so everything was fine. The streets were calmer than expected for such a day, and the couple wasn’t talking much.

“Did you think about your resolutions?”

Sarada giggled. “Maybe.” In that moment, Sarada felt a touch in her hand and she just let their fingers intertwine – getting over with the rule number three. She never felt so good by breaking rules. Boruto smiled at her, his cheeks slightly pink, and she returned the smile, also blushing.

“I thought about it all day, to be honest. But you really want to share? I don’t know about it anymore.”

“It’s your call, I guess.”

Sarada wasn’t aware that holding his hand would mean so much to her. She knew him in every possible way, but all this was still new for them. Almost all rules were broken at that point, but the girl kept trying hard to deny that the fourth and last rule was broke; not today, years ago, even before this rules started. They fell in love and they weren’t supposed to.

The date was a simple deal, to be honest. Boruto knew Sarada too well to mess up with something too fancy or too expensive that she would only pretend to like. After the dinner, they were supposed to meet with their friends to wait for the fireworks as a group. They left the restaurant holding hands, making the empty street echoed their soft voices and giggles. Sarada didn’t care if someone saw them anymore. She wanted them to be a serious deal from now on, no more little games or stupid rules. The girl was aware that the last years of hiding were her fault, and Boruto only did it because it didn’t matter how, he only wanted to be by her side. If following rules and hiding it from everyone were what it took, he’d been ready for it.

“Sarada, how do you feel about me?”

“You’re my best friend.” Sarada said bluntly without even think twice.

“That’s not what I’m asking.” He rolled his eyes breathing heavily.

“You are the best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t want to screw things up.”

He sighed and let the silence hang a minute before speak again. “No, Sarada. You won’t screw anything up. I love you. I’m saying that not as friends.” She stopped mid pace, pretty sure her heart skipped a beat in that exact moment. She forgot how to speak, how to walk, her eyes couldn’t be more widened. He also stopped and faced her, a bit of despair hanging in his voice. “You don’t need to say it back if you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

She tried her best to say something perfectly but it was no use. She stuttered, blushed and could feel her heart beat in her skin. Sarada wasn’t sure if she liked him until then, when he shared his true feelings towards her. Boruto stood, continuously avoiding her gaze. Damn it, rule number four. “I love you.” She smiled. “Yes, I love you. It feels so good saying this.”

Boruto released a breath he didn’t notice he was holding. “I love you.” They looked in each other eyes smiling. “We should go, now. We can’t let people waiting.” Nevertheless, none of them moved. Sarada was lost in his blue eyes as much as Boruto was lost in her black ones.

Sarada smiled and held his hand. “I think we can leave people waiting.”

Boruto smirked while she dragged him. “What are you talking about?”

“My house is empty.”

It didn’t take them long to get there.

 That time, none of them had the wish to go slow. They were frustrated by the almost kisses and all they wanted was to finally feel each other in every possible way. Sarada threw her arms around him and Boruto held her with a strong embrace. His smell was intoxicating, his touch addictive and Sarada didn’t want to let go. She’d had to let go enough for the year that didn’t even started yet. The best thing was that she didn’t have to let go anymore. She could stay all night there, together. They kissed reckless and passionately, desire talking higher than any sense of limits. For a moment, they forgot where they were and who could find them. It didn’t matter - the risk was exciting.

That time it felt like it was meant to be, as if they have never did anything before. He pressed her back against the wall and automatically her legs curled around his waist, low moans escaping her throat while he kissed her neck. Why I wasn’t like this before? Raced heartbeats, lungs in need for air, sweat running down their backs.

She would say yes to him a thousand times. No, a million times. Better yet, infinite times.

The fireworks started to burst, and both smiled.

“Happy new year, Sarada.” Boruto said.

“Happy new year.” She answered back.

 In the last day of the year, she broke all her laws instead of making new ones.

In the last day of the year, she accepted that she was in love.

In the last day of the year, she knew she was ready to melt into his arms every day from now on.

The last day of the year started like any other day of the year.

The first day of the year began different from any other day of her life.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Balance on the Head of a Pin

Chapter Eleven

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x OFC  |  Word Count: 5102 Warnings: Swearing, violence, abusive relationship

Sleep was not something he needed with regularity, not like the humans of Midgard, so as Lauren slept curled against him, her body warm and soft, Loki simply lay content to hold her close and keep her safe. This was not what he’d expected coming home with her would be like.

Her mother was a harsh woman, he knew, had known from the call he’d been privy to, but the rest, all of them, made him ridiculously angry.

He had not felt such burning rage and hatred toward another since the day he’d been informed of Frigga’s death. The all-consuming need to plunge a dagger through the heart of the Dark Elf who’d killed her had set him raging, destroying his cell and everything inside it. When Thor had offered him the chance to avenge her murder, he had been most inclined to assist; as well as escape his cell.

He did not know what happened here, but something stunk of deceit. There was evil on the air, the scent of trickery and contrivance. As the God of Mischief, it was impossible to hide the fact from him. Someone was up to something, and his instincts screamed George’s name.

Kissing the crown of Lauren’s head, Loki shifted out from beneath her, making sure to tuck the sheets around her when she sighed and rolled to her belly.

Her hair was a waterfall of golden wheat over her back, her lashes long and dark resting on her cheeks. Sleek muscles moved beneath her skin, her night clothes dark against her pale flesh.

He ran his fingers through her hair, remaining knelt at her side for a few moments, imagining what it would be like to create many more of the garments from the pages of Natasha’s magazine. There were ones with lace and thin straps, appearing like cages, or the corsets which laced up the back, lifting the breasts and narrowing the waist.

He could envision her in gowns of silk, tiny straps barely holding the fabric to her frame, the silk so thin it clung to her breasts, revealing her pert nipples. It would be nothing, no barrier at all to his mouth. The silk would grow wet from the laving of his tongue, disappearing completely until it felt as if he sucked on her directly.

A rumbled growl of pleasure escaped him, his hand slowly closing in her hair as his body stirred to life. The loose pants he had donned for her sake did nothing to disguise his desire when they tented in the front. His usual sleep attire was none at all, but his innocent Lauren was not there yet, nor did he think he could keep himself from taking her should he find himself naked in her bed.

He was halfway through fulfilling his promise with two days left before the party in which she would wear the stunning dress of Sadie’s. He would have her then, make her his in full. Claim that which he’d waited so long for. “Elskan min,” he murmured, slowly releasing her hair and shifting away before he did something foolish.

He waved his hand and dressed as the god he was, still preferring his Asgardian garb to that of Midgard. He may cater to the sensibilities of others, but it didn't necessarily mean he liked it. Wandering the halls of the tower dressed in black leather, overcoat flowing around his legs, tended to have the team eyeing him sideways, wondering what he was up to.

He did it occasionally just to watch them sweat.

He slipped from the bedroom, setting wards on the doors to see Lauren remained undisturbed and vanished to move about without being seen. Though the house was quiet, people were still awake, and he made his way toward the first of the voices.

Samuel and Marabeth were arguing in hushed tones.

He slipped through the open door, settled into a chair near it, and watched the drama unfold.

“You’re such a coward,” Marabeth sneered, dragging the edges of her too tight robe around her.

“Because I refused to step between you and your sister?” Samuel snorted. “I told you before, I don’t care about your spat with her. Your jealousy of her ain’t my problem.”

“I’m not jealous of Lauren!” she scoffed.

He arched a brow, took the glasses from his face to clean on his shirt, Samuel gave her a sly smirk. “Lyin’ to yourself now, dear? How disappointin’.”

She flew across the room, her hand raised in anger, but he only caught her by the wrist.

“Do not think I will stand for that, wife. I am not your sister to simply take the slap.” He threw her hand away from him before walking toward the door.

“Where are you goin'?” she demanded, striding after him.

“Out,” Samuel muttered.

“To fuck your floozy?” she sneered.

He paused beside Loki’s invisible form to glare down at Marabeth with something akin to disgust. “Considerin’ how you have let yourself go since you had those brats you insisted upon, I have been forced to seek my relief from other sources.”

“You know I had to have the little bastards to please mama,” she huffed.

“Yes, well, at least your mother managed to retain her shape after havin’ three children. Somethin’ you clearly are incapable of.” Samuel turned up his nose and walked out.

Loki sneered silently after him. Like he was one to talk with his protruding gut.

Stomping across the room, Marabeth jerked the top from the decanter in the corner and poured a hearty swallow she threw back without hesitation. Her hand clenched around the crystal before she threw it at the wall with a snarl. 

Loki stood slowly, having seen enough. There was madness in Marabeth’s eyes, something he associated with mayhem and murder. Things were not well in her marriage if this conversation was any indication.

And the children, the ones Lauren loved with her whole heart, were not even wanted by their parents.

He knew that feeling all too well, having been abandoned by his own, but he at least had found a home with people who did care for him. These two were living in a situation where they could not help but be aware of their lack of value to the people around them.

While he wasn’t overly fond of the small ankle biters, children tending to be rather dirty and loud, he was not averse to having his own one day. The idea of watching Lauren grow round with his babe, it stirred longings to life inside him he hadn’t known were there. Finding her with the two cuddle up against her had been heart stopping the desire hit him so hard.

To find her sister did not even want them, appeared to care very little for them, had him contemplating what it would take to see they were removed from this home and placed in Lauren’s care. Dark thoughts of accidents in which both Samuel and Marabeth perished in flames and screeching metal as their car impacted something solid rose up, but he immediately banished them, no matter how tempting.

Should Lauren ever discover he’d had a hand in offing her sibling, she would despise him for eternity. She did not have a vindictive bone in her body. No matter how her sister continued to hate and hurt her, she would never forgive him if he took matters into his own hands in such a way.

Deciding it was something he needed to think on, possibly ask questions of someone better versed in the working of Midgardian laws than he, Loki moved silently down the halls to where George’s quiet voice was heard.

His door was shut tight, but Loki only waved a hand, shifting smoothly into the darkened room. Curtains closed, the only light on was the one on the stand beside the bed, though George was cast in the glow of a laptop screen, his clothing discarded down to dark boxers.

“Babe, look, I’m tryin’, but she ain’t havin’ none of me,” he murmured quietly, causing Loki to frown as he moved around the room to see just who Montgomery was speaking with.

“Well, try harder,” the woman on the screen whined. She was scantily clad, her choice of attire quite - what was the word Clint used? – Ah yes, trashy. Her dull brown hair was curled and teased high, her makeup heavy including orangey-red lips which smacked together as she chewed and popped her gum.

This was the woman George had chosen over Lauren? His contempt of the man kept growing. Curling his lip back in disgust, Loki leaned against the wall to watch.

“I can’t force her to marry me, Darlene! It don’t work that way,” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Well, we need the money, George, what with yer little one on the way and our other troubles.” She shifted enough to have her garments falling open.

Loki arched his brow at her protruding belly. 

“I’m workin’ on it, babe, but she came back with this snooty attitude and some fancy fella from New York. Tonight she walked out on the family, said she ain’t never comin’ back. Not much point in weddin’ her if she’s gonna end up on the outs with Magnolia. That old bitch’s got such a death grip on the family fortune.” He shook his head.

“You weren’t gonna be gettin’ access to that fortune anyway, right? I thought it was the crazy old biddy’s money you was after?”

Loki’s interest instantly sharpened for they could only be speaking of Ellie, Lauren’s grandmother.

“Shit! Y’all should see the money that woman’s got stashed. She lives like a hermit, crazy old witch, but damn, babe, she’s rollin’ in it,” George confirmed with a smirk.

Darlene rolled to her back and kicked her feet at the ceiling. “I’m so glad your daddy is too stupid to notice you’ve been goin’ through the accounts. You’d a never known about all that dough otherwise. You sure Lulu will inherit?”

“Damn sure. Who else would the old bitch give it to? Cissy’s a mean cunt. Marabeth, too. Ellie hates Magnolia, and Hoyt’s already got Jasper’s money. Nah, Ellie will leave it all to Lauren.”

Intrigued, Loki wondered at that. It had not appeared as if Ellie were well off, but, if he understood anything about this strange land he’d been thrown into, it seemed wealth begot wealth. Those who were rich married others of the same fortune. It would make sense for Jasper Annandale to court the young Ellie if she were not only beautiful but from a better family as well. However, the stealing of one’s fortune from an elder would not be overlooked. Especially as this was Lauren’s gran.

“Well,” Darlene cooed, rolling toward the camera, allowing for a generous view of her cleavage, “I do wish you’d get on with it.”

A quiet knock at the door had George pressing a finger to his lips. “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

Brow arching, Loki could hardly believe this turn of events.

“Gotta go,” George hissed at the screen.

Darlene grinned. “All else fails, you could always take pictures and blackmail the old lady into payin’ you off,” she snickered.

George smirked and shut the screen of his laptop. “It’s open,” he called out, placing the laptop on the nightstand.

Even knowing it was her, Loki couldn’t help but be shocked when Lauren’s mother sauntered through the door, a seductive smile on her face in a robe of deep blue.

“Hey, baby,” she simpered.

“Magnolia, darlin’. I thought Hoyt was home tonight?”

She swayed her hips as she moved closer to the bed Montgomery was laying on. The tie on her robe came loose under her fingers, revealing a negligee in the same dark blue.

Passing a critical eye over her, Loki could have snorted his contempt. She was a poor second to his Lauren though, clearly, she couldn’t see it. Quite frankly she disgusted him. Here she was, supposed to be Lauren’s mother, seducing what should have been Lauren’s husband.

It made him wonder how long this had been going on. Had Magnolia been sleeping with Montgomery when he’d been courting Lauren? Was this, then, why George had been so disinclined to be with her?

He’d said he hadn’t found her attractive when she was younger, but Loki found that hard to believe. He’d seen the pictures and found Lauren both beautiful and adorable.

No. Likely George was merely a gutter snake of the worst kind.

Still, Loki didn’t leave his place on the wall. Both were about to be seriously unhappy in the next few moments, and he had no plans to miss the upcoming show.

“Hoyt went to the club. He won’t be back for hours, and even then, ain’t like he’s gonna come crawl in my bed lookin’ for me,” Magnolia smirked, crawling up the mattress between Montgomery’s spread legs.

George grinned slyly, reaching out to touch her when Magnolia’s hands slipped over his boxers. “Well, ain’t I lucky, gettin’ to have a gorgeous woman all to myself.”

Magnolia giggled, actually giggled, and had Loki rolling his eyes in disgust. Had the woman no shame? His attention shifted to George. Had the man no technique? Freya’s tits, he had never seen a male paw at a woman with such lacklustre skill.

No wonder Lauren had been disappointed.

After a few minutes of sloppy kissing and desperate groping in which he watched George grow more and more frustrated, Magnolia finally sat back to glare down at him. “Just what is the problem, Georgie?”

Georgie? Loki barely contained his bark of amusement.

Embarrassment flooded George’s face, turning it red, almost puce really. “I-I…” he stuttered. “I, uh, had a few glasses of whiskey, thinkin’ I was sleepin’ alone tonight, so… yeah.”

Her face fell. “Oh, well. Ain’t that a shame,” Magnolia pouted.

“I can still, you known,” he reached beneath her, rubbing between her thighs. “If ya want,” he offered like the consummate gentleman he was pretending to be.

“Oh, would you?” Magnolia asked, voice pleading.

George smirked, urging her up to straddle his face, pulling the barely-there lace out of his way.

Loki wandered toward the desk with the papers upon it, ignoring the sounds coming from the bed. This too, he knew, would not last long thanks to the curse he’d cast, but he had no desire to watch the two of them together. 

Spread across the desk were financial statements, both Ellie’s and Montgomery’s. He knew enough from his own bank records, something he was required to keep now that he used Midgardian currency, to read these and found them enlightening.

It seemed George was in quite a bit of debt. There were far more zeros on the end of his statement than Loki had ever seen. When he checked the ones for Ellie, he found her substantial fortune would not only wipe out Montgomery’s debt but see them living comfortably for quite a few years.

No wonder he was after Lauren’s inheritance, but what had been the plan here? Ellie was spry, her health, while declining, was still good. It was unlikely George would want to wait for her to pass naturally for Lauren to gain her fortune.

Confused, he tugged the phone from his pocket and sent off a short text to Barnes, the only one he knew would be awake at this time of night. How does one go about gaining an inheritance from someone who is still living? Making sure it was on the vibration mode, he slipped it back in his pocket.

And once married to Lauren, how did George expect to bring his mistress home? Lauren may not be as vocal as some of her family, but he had heard the lash of her tongue often enough to know she would not stand for such disloyalty in her husband. How was George to go about having two women? It made no sense to him.

When the growl of displeasure came from behind him, Loki smirked happily and turned to watch gleefully.

“What is your problem, Georgie?” Magnolia huffed, clearly frustrated.

He shoved her away before wiping his mouth. “I ain’t got no problem, Magnolia!”

“Evidently you do,” she scoffed, getting off the bed in a flurry of fluttering fabric. “Can’t get it up and can’t seem to figure out how to please a woman. You used to be so much better at this.”

George ground his teeth together, likely to keep from saying something he shouldn’t to her. “Well I’m tired, darlin’, it happens. Add in all this shit with Lauren, and I ain’t exactly in the mood to eat out her mother.”

She flushed red, anger blazing in her eyes. “That’s it, isn’t it? You find her more attractive than me?”

He shook his head, but Loki could scent the lie in it.

“She ain’t nothin’ compared to you, Magnolia. You know how I feel about you. I’m doin’ this so we can be together, all the time.” He got up, followed her to the door where he pressed her against it and kissed her soundly. “You know I only have eyes for you. Even back then, four years ago, all I could think about was your pretty tits and sweet cunt.”

Face twisting in disgust, Loki reached for the phone buzzing against his hip.

Depends. You can ask for it, or you could off them and take it. Why?

Bucky’s answer had Loki growing cold. Was this it? Was that what he’d planned to do? Kill Ellie? Stage an accident so Lauren would inherit?

Rage washed through him, turning him cold, deadly cold. When he glanced to his hands, Loki noted the humanity he wore had fallen away, his true nature and blue skin on full display. Still, he held himself in check, waiting for the snivelling, slobbering male to finish placating Lauren’s mother while punching out a reply to Barnes of, Just curious. He did not need Bucky asking questions he was in no mood to answer.

“Oh my,” Magnolia whispered.

“Another night I’ll fuck you good and hard, the way you need, but not tonight,” he crooned, grasping her ass, rubbing his thigh between her legs.

Too bad George was doomed to be disappointed or to be a disappointment with Loki’s lovely curse. The man would remain sexually frustrated, as would his partners, for a very, very long time.

“Fine,” she whined, clearly disappointed. “But you owe me, Georgie.”

He opened his door and slapped her ass on the way out. Shutting it with a relieved exhale, George looked down at little George in exasperation. “Really?”

“Is it a regular thing you do, this speaking to your manhood?” Loki asked, revealing himself and flicking a finger at the door. Everything iced over, effectively sealing them in.

Fear erupted on his face as George backpedalled, falling over his feet when he scrambled for distance. “How in the fuck? How long you been there!?”

“Long enough.” Loki pushed from the desk he sauntered forward, stalking the man with deadly intent coated in calm. The room, again, was quite large, allowing Loki to take a seat on a small sofa while George scrambled to put pants on. “Let me explain to you what is about to happen.”

“You can't do nothin’ to me without endin’ up gettin’ kicked outta here,” the idiot human scoffed.

Tsking softly, Loki pulled his favourite dagger out of the air and proceeded to clean his nails with the tip. “I'm afraid you are the one who can do nothing for you see,” magic shimmered in the air around him, turning him into George, “it would be effotless to see you disappear from this realm, then take your leave of this house and never be seen again. No one would suspect me of foul play as I would simply stand to the side,” here he flicked his fingers, an avatar of himself shimmering to life, arms crossed and scowling, “and wish you good riddance.”

Loki let the magic dissipate, pleased with the fear which had paled George's face. “You are quite a despicable human. I will not allow you to take advantage of my Ástvinur’s family, heinous though they may be, and I will certainly not allow you to lay hands on Lady Ellie.”

George snorted his contempt.

Loki sent the dagger across the room, embedding it deeply in the wall beside George’s head. The man jerking out of the way. “She is a woman worthy of respect, and you will show it or feel my wrath a second time!” Rising from the settee, Loki prowled forward to jerk the blade free. “Your plan will not work. You will never succeed in taking Lauren from me. Therefore you will never gain access to Ellie’s fortune.”

His eyes widened in shock. “How did you…?”

“It took minimal effort to figure out your ruse. You are up against a God, after all, and one who has forgotten more of mischief and malice than you shall ever learn.” Turning on him, Loki let his magic swell.

The room fell into darkness, the furniture and all within the space disappearing, leaving only Loki and George, the later cowering before his might as Loki allowed the humanity in him to fall away and his frost giant nature to come to the forefront. Blue of skin and red of eye, he towered over the man before him. “Speak, mortal. Speak the truth, and I will not kill you where you stand. What were your plans for Lady Ellie?”

George gaped at him, his face a mask of terror. “Mon-monster!”

Smiling though the word was a hated one, Loki refused to let it affect him at this moment and reached out to pass a finger lightly down George’s bare chest. The skin burned and George screamed in pain.

“Yes, so I have been told, but if I must be a monster to protect what I love, so be it. Speak, human,” he snarled.

“It was all Darlene’s idea!” George gasped, recoiling as far as he could. “We need the money!”

“Mmh, for the babe. I saw, but why not use your own funds?” Was Montgomery not also from a wealthy family?

“My father cut me off when I broke the engagement with Lauren and left with Darlene. There weren’t nothing he could do about my trust fund, but when it ran out, Momma said the only way I could come back was if I did right by the family, and if I left Darlene.”

“So you fabricated this farce? All for money?”

He nodded slowly. “Darlene likes those crime shows. She said it would be easy. Come home. Grovel a little. Go back to work for my father. It was then I found out about the old woman’s money. I was gonna marry Lauren to get access to the Annandale fortune, but Ellie’s was better. Lauren’s gonna get it all.”

“And just how far would you have gone? Would you have killed Lady Ellie to gain that access? It is highly unlikely she would have simply handed it over, even should Lauren ask.”

George looked away with a shrug. “Old people fall all the time.”

His hand was around George’s throat, and the man was dangling from his fist in the air before Loki had time to think about it, barely managing to contain his nature to keep from freezing the air from the bastard’s lungs. “And Lauren? Would you have killed her, too? Would you have taken the life of my Ástvinur, all in the name of money!?” he bellowed.

George gasped and scratched at Loki’s hand and arm. “Clean… out… accounts and… disappear.”

The tip of Loki’s dagger tapped none too gently against George’s chest, slicing open tiny cuts which just barely beaded blood. “Now, you will simply… go. I will allow you to stay till morning at which point you will thank your hosts graciously before taking your leave. If you do not, or if you dare speak of our discussion this eve, you will disappear without a trace. Your child will grow up a bastard, never knowing his father, and you will die, slowly, painfully, in the realm of my choosing.” He released the hold he had on George, the man’s face an interesting shade of purple. George fell to his knees beside the bed, and the light returned to the room.

“You don’t,” George coughed, “understand! I need the money. I owe dangerous people!”

Loki sneered down at him. “Because you are a fool. Even on Asgard, we have people such as you. Those who spend frivolously, or indulge a greedy woman. Those who gamble beyond their good sense. But you are never at fault, are you, Montgomery? It’s always poor luck, or your woman made you, drove you to it. You can’t take responsibility for your own mistakes.”

“Like you did?” he wheezed, glaring at Loki with extreme hatred. “You’re nothin’ but a monster and a murderer. How many people did you kill with your actions in New York? How many millions of people have you hurt?”

Loki refused to be goaded into a reaction. “Unlike you, I have taken responsibility for what my actions wrought. I work to fix them every day, and do not run from them or make them someone else’s problem as you have done here.” Still, staring down at the man, he could see the desperation and the fear. “You are a fool, Montgomery, but I can be benevolent when I wish.” Rolling his wrist, a small pouch appeared in his hand which he upended on the man’s bed. Five coins of solid gold, as well as three precious stones, tinkled when they landed. “It is a small fortune, enough, likely, to placate those who wish you ill. Take it. Leave. Never return, for I promise you, if you so much as look my Lauren’s direction at any time in the future, I will kill you. Have we a deal?”

The greed in George’s eyes disgusted him, but when the man nodded his agreement, Loki grunted his approval, turned on his heel, and made for the door. At it, he hesitated while the ice melted away. “Be warned, human, you have bound yourself to a contract with a God. Break it at your peril.”

He shut the door quietly behind him and made his way back to Lauren’s room. Now, if only dealing with the rest of the people in this house would be so easy. Still, he would feel less on edge once George was no longer here. He would not put it past the man to try something nefarious.

Loki was quick to vanish from sight when Cissy came into view. She was standing hunched over, appearing to be trying to break into Lauren’s room, growing more frustrated with each passing second. He had no idea what her plan was, but he wasn’t about to let Cissy think she could succeed in sneaking into Lauren’s room. Gritting his teeth, angry and mentally exhausted with this family, he slipped between rooms, changed his attire back to what it had been, and jerked the door inward.

Cissy fell through to land on the floor with a shriek, waking Lauren who sat up with a yelp.

“Loki?” she called, hair a mess and eyes hazy.

“Apologies, darling. I heard a noise at the door which turned out to be your sister.” He looked coldly down at Cissy. “Something you need, Ms. Annandale?”

She picked herself off the floor, dusting off her knees. When her eyes lifted, caught on Loki's dishevelled appearance, they nearly bugged from her head. “Oh my,” she breathed, hand reaching for his chest.

Loki sauntered away, returning to the far side of the bed where he slid in behind Lauren, his arms going around her waist and lips falling to her throat.

“C-Cissy?” Lauren gasped, sleep colouring her voice.

“Oh, I, well you see, I broke my heel on my shoe while I was out tonight and just stumbled right on into y’all’s door,” Cissy said, blinking at the bed. “Did you redecorate or somethin’, Lauren?”

Quivering against him, clearly enjoying the stroking of his lips over her shoulder, Lauren tilted her head to the side to make it easier. “Loki did.”

A pout appeared on Cissy’s face. “How nice for you.”

Loki slipped his hand from Lauren’s stomach up between her breasts to rest against her chest in a clearly possessive act. “As it is late, you’ll understand if I ask you to shut the door on your way out, Ms. Annandale.”

Jealousy flared in her eyes, Cissy's gaze locked on his stroking fingers before they turned flirtatious and fluttered with her smile when she returned them to his. “Seein’ as how we’re nearly family, Loki, it would be completely acceptable for you to call me Cissy.”

“Goodnight, Ms. Annandale.” He drew Lauren back and encouraged her down so she was laid out beneath him in an unmistakable position. “Seeing as how we are both awake, my sweet….” he smiled suggestively, grin growing wicked when the door slammed. “She is just too easy.”

Lauren pressed her hands to her mouth to muffle her giggles. “She’s not used to bein’ ignored.”

“Then she will learn for I see no one but you, my heart.” Loki kissed her softly.

Stretching her arms up, Lauren sighed as she wrapped them around him. “I missed you.”

His brow arched. “Was I gone?” he teased.

“It got warm in here so I know you were, peaches.” Her sleepy eyes blinked up at him, the green a soft sage.

“I took a short walk.” And learned a host of interesting things. Brushing her hair back, Loki lightly traced her cheek. “You were asleep when I returned.”

“Dozin’,” she murmured, hands sliding down his back, already drifting, her lids fluttering as she fought to stay awake.

He chuckled softly and settled carefully to the bed, curling into her back when she shifted to her side. His fingers delved into the opening of her nightwear, drifted up, and cupped her breast.

“Mmh,” she hummed contentedly. “S’nice.”

Kissing her shoulder, he cuddled her close. “Go back to sleep, elskan mín.”

“Stay?”

“I promise, darling. I am not going anywhere.” He tucked his nose into her hair, flicked a finger to lock the door, and allowed himself to fall asleep when she did.

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