#no way these weren’t made by people over the age of 14

[fakemonalisa28]

These are the actual worst things I ever read

Like god forbid people ship a non problematic ship that you don’t like/isn’t canon or worse an LGBTQ+ ship. Why the fuck are we dictating people shipping a harmless, non problematic ship.

I do have kinda a bias here cause I’m a EF x WL shipper plus somewhat of a PV x DC shipper cause of fanon content but seriously what has fandom culture become in 2024… nothing is wrong with shipping two men or two women who are friends in canon.

I genuinely wonder what these people would think if they saw a rare pair like please don’t let them see Licorice x Parfait their heads would explode.

[jettingtothemoon]

Daughter of the Spirits; chapter 11

➳ pairing: zuko x f!reader ➳ genre: a retelling of the show from season 2 onwards with a heavy focus and expansion on zuko���s story (canon divergent) ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut (underaged if your age of consent is above 16), spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the show ➳ word count: 3537 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n comes across the fire nation prince during her stay in Ba Sing Se. ➳ tags: @harmlessoffering, @lammello (i’m sorry if i’m forgetting anyone, lmk if i am or if you want to be added)

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

The Invasion

You found out from Mai and Ty Lee that there had been another war meeting — one Zuko hadn’t been invited to. He was furious, of course.

For the first time in years, he was finally starting to feel like a prince again. What with all the servants at his beck and call, insisting he take the palanquin when traversing the city, even if he was only out on an errand with you. People were by his side day and night, making sure he had everything he needed. It was exactly how it should have been, even if it was quite the adjustment for you both, yet he had still been excluded by his father.

He had told you about his banishment. How he had spoken up at a war meeting and disgraced his father, leading to the agni kai where he had to fight the very man that was supposed to protect him. The man who scarred and banished his own child.

Only this morning was he happy and smiling, simply enjoying the time he got to spend with you. Now, however, he sat staring out of the window, watching as the clouds passed over the moon in silent contemplation.

“Zuko,” you said his name and yet, he didn't move. Didn’t even flinch. It was as if he hadn’t even heard you, only you knew he had.

"Zuko," you tried again, this time wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Wordlessly, he leaned into you. His scowl never once left his face but he was at least trying to control his temper for you, allowing himself to fall into your embrace.

"It's just a war meeting. I bet they're full of old, boring men."

Your attempt at amusing him seemed to fail as he leaned away from you and back against the window. "They're important. All the best advisors and the entire royal family attend. Even Azula is going."

"Just another reason that it won't be fun, Azula will be there."

Now that got a chuckle. A small one, but a chuckle nonetheless.

"Stop worrying about it and come to bed."

He hummed, turning away from the window and towards you. He wasn't happy and he probably wouldn't be for a while, but at least he could relax with you. Even when things weren’t going his way.

The next day, you sat with Zuko as you made a cup of jasmine tea. He sulked beside you with a frown on his face, thinking about the meeting that was about to start without him. You could tell how badly he wanted to be there, even if he did keep shrugging it off when you tried to comfort him. You thought making some tea would help but it only seemed to sour his mood further and you soon realised it was because he was missing his uncle.

You missed Iroh too. You had wanted to go and visit him but Zuko forbade you, expressing how dangerous it would be if you did. Azula had found out when he went to see him and if anyone were to find out you were visiting a traitor of the Fire Nation you would be hauled away and thrown into a cell of your own before either of you could do anything to stop it.

It pained you to think of the old man sitting in a dark, grimey cell. More so when the smell of jasmine tea reminded you as much of him now as it did your mother.

“Prince Zuko,” your attention was drawn to a servant as he entered the room with a bow, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Zuko looked from you to the man who now knelt at the floor with furrowed brows before getting up from where he sat. “What?”

“The high admirals, high generals, the war ministers, and the princess have all arrived. You’re the only person missing,” the servant explained, his eyes lifting to look at the prince as he spoke.

You stood beside Zuko with a heavily beating chest as he asked, “So my dad wants me at the meeting?”

The servant bowed again. “The Firelord said he would not start until you have arrived, sir.”

With a full smile, Zuko turned to you and, although he was going to a meeting where they would likely discuss the deaths of even more people you loved and knew, you couldn’t help but feel happy for him. This was all he’d ever wanted — to be accepted by his father. To be loved and wanted. For his opinions to matter. That alone brought you hope because if he could sway his father or even some of the generals, perhaps he could help save lives on both sides of the war.

You, along with Mai, waited outside the meeting for him, both anxious to hear how it went. She had offered to come with you so that you would not be alone in the palace for too long since she knew just how daunting that could be. Besides, she was still Zuko’s friend too, just as she was now yours.

When he finally emerged, Mai was the first to ask, “So? How did it go?”

“When I got to the meeting, everyone welcomed me. My father had saved me a seat, he wanted me next to him. I was literally at his right hand.”

His words almost sent a chill down your spine as you thought of the worst — that rather than Zuko swaying the Firelord’s mind about the war, that it would be his father who would sway him. You knew better than that, though, and as much was confirmed when you were met with nothing but a troubled expression on Zuko’s face.

“That’s wonderful,” Mai grinned, “You must be happy.”

The three of you stopped in front of a large tapestry, one displaying a large portrait of Firelord Ozai. You placed a reassuring hand on Zuko’s shoulder as he looked up at it and exchanged a worried glance with Mai.

“During the meeting I was the perfect prince,” he concluded, “The son my father wanted… but I wasn’t me.”

You ran your hand down his arm and slotted it into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. For a moment, he squeezed it back, but then tugged his hand free and began to walk away, leaving both you and Mai behind.

She sighed and became the one placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Give him time. This was a good thing, he’ll realise that soon.”

You hummed although you did not agree. The only good thing was that Zuko was starting to realise who he was and that the man he was wasn’t the man his father wanted him to be. He was not ruthless and cold. He was kind and strong and so many other things his father would never be. He was better than him and finally, you thought he was beginning to realise that.

When you returned to your room, you found him writing a letter.

“What are you doing?” you questioned, wondering what he was up to.

“Writing to Mai. I at least owe her a goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” you asked, your brows furrowed.

He hummed. “We’re leaving. I… This isn’t who I am. Not anymore. An invasion has begun, we can slip away in the chaos but I have to do something first.”

Whatever he had in mind, whether he just wanted to leave and find your parents or maybe, just maybe, hunt down and join the avatar, you knew you were going with him. After all the time that had passed since you left Ba Sing Se, he was finally ready to accept who he was. He was finally going to do the right thing.

He passed you the brush when he was finished, allowing you to write your apologies and goodbyes to your newfound friends. You addressed both Mai and Ty Lee directly, wishing them well and hoping you would not come to face them on opposite sides of the battlefield. The two of you then signed the letter and Zuko left to take it to her home, putting it someplace where she would see it long after the two of you were gone.

After he returned, as you collected what little things you owned, he knelt before a portrait of his mother and closed his eyes. “I know I’ve made some bad choices, but today I’m gonna set things right.”

He picked up his swords and a small bag of provisions, turning to the lighter side of himself once again, and pulled his hood up to conceal his face.

You stepped forward and pulled him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his lips as your thumb stroked the side of his face. “It’s going to be okay, you know. You’re doing the right thing.”

He smiled and leaned into your touch. “I know.”

He led you quickly through the palace and down underground. You could hear the fighting up above as you moved through the tunnels and Zuko explained that during the eclipse today, no one would be able to Firebend. It was the perfect time for an attack and, along with the invasion forces, would surely be the avatar. He had a plan and that plan was to join them, to help the avatar finally put an end to this war.

But he had to confront his father first and what better time was there to do that than when he had no bending?

When he finally came to a halt before a large, reinforced door, you felt your heart in your throat. How would Ozai react to the news of his son’s betrayal? Would he try to kill him then and there? Or perhaps he would simply try to imprison you both? Either way, you were prepared. You would use your bending — all of your bending — to fight. You were fighting for yourself. You were fighting for your family. You were fighting for Zuko.

You held his hand, squeezing it in reassurance as you had done time and time before.

“I’m ready to face you,” he spoke, as though his father could hear him through the door.

He did not protest as you walked to the door with him, nor did he ask you to remain behind as he walked inside. As dangerous as what he was about to do was, he trusted that you would be safe by his side, and that he would be safe by yours. Whatever was going to happen, you were going to do it together.

“Prince Zuko,” his father addressed him with a frown and lowered his cup of tea, “What are you doing here?”

Zuko walked towards his father, with you standing only a few paces behind. This was his moment and you wanted him to have it but if he needed you, you would be there to fight by his side.

“I’m here to tell the truth,” Zuko declared from where he stood, staring his father down.

The firelord furrowed his brows and signalled for his guards to leave, his eyes only once flickering from Zuko to you. “Telling the truth during the middle of an eclipse? This should be interesting.”

Zuko only spoke again when the guards were gone, the strong doors sliding shut behind them, “First of all, in Ba Sing Se it was Azula who took down the avatar, not me.”

“Why would she lie to me about that?” Ozai questioned.

“Because the avatar is not dead,” Zuko explained, “He survived.”

“What?” Only then did the firelord’s expression change. What was a calm and collected leader suddenly turned into an angry father. One who was clearly afraid of what the avatar could do if he was still alive.

“In fact, he’s probably leading this invasion. He could be on his way here right now.” For a moment, it almost seemed as though Zuko was warning his father, as though he had not really turned his back on him. He was still his father, after all, but you knew him better than that. He was changed and he was here for one thing and one thing only, to bid his father farewell.

“Get out!” the firelord snapped with a wave of his hand, anger boiling up in him, “Get out of my sight right now if you know what’s good for you.”

Although the firelord’s temper was continuing to grow, Zuko remained calm. From where you stood behind him, you could almost hear the satisfaction in his voice as he spoke, “That’s another thing. I’m not taking orders from you anymore.”

His father’s brows crossed in rage and you adopted a defensive stance as he began to walk towards Zuko. “You will obey me or this defiant breath will be your last!”

The prince unsheathed his swords, standing ready to fight his father as he demanded, “Think again. I am going to speak my mind and you are going to listen.”

To both of your surprise, the firelord sat back down as though he was ready to hear whatever Zuko had to say. The two of you still stood at the ready, prepared for a fight. You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on the ground beneath you. You could feel the echoing rumble of machines coming from the surface, another sign of the battle above.

“For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me,” Zuko admitted, casting his eyes to the ground, “To accept me. I thought it was my honour that I wanted but really I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn,” he pointed at Ozai with the end of his blade, “My father who challenged me, a thirteen year old boy to an agni kai. How can you possibly justify a duel with a child?”

It was like a weight off your own chest to hear him finally letting go of all that had burdened him, telling his father just how he felt after all he had done to him.

The firelord only scowled, looking at Zuko as though he was nothing but the dirt under his shoe as he spat, “It was to teach you respect!”

“It was cruel and it was wrong!”

“Then you’ve learnt nothing. This girl,” he gestured to you, “Has only made you weaker than you already were.”

“No! I’ve learned everything, and I’ve had to learn on my own. Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilisation in history, and somehow the war was our way of sharing our greatness with the world. What an amazing lie that was, the people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don’t see our greatness, they hate us! And we deserve it. We’ve created an era of fear in the world and if we don’t want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.”

The firelord laughed out loud, mocking his son even now. “Your uncle has gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

There was a brief pause and Zuko smiled, actually smiled, in the face of his father’s taunts. “Yes, he has.”

“And this girl? She stands with you now, is she not of the Fire Nation too? Another traitor turned by your uncle’s tricks?”

Now it was you who stifled a laugh. “A traitor? Zuko isn’t a traitor and neither is his uncle. You are the one who betrayed the Fire Nation, you even betrayed your own blood because you’re so blinded by power you can’t see the bigger picture. My name is y/n and my parents were from the Northern Watertribe. They left their home and raised me in the Earth Kingdom to fight against your army! Even now, they fight against your cruelty, and now we do too!”

“You foolish girl,” Ozai glared at you with fire in his eyes, “What could you possibly do to stop me?”

“After we leave here today,” Zuko interrupted, answering his father’s question for the both of you, “We’re going to free uncle Iroh from his prison, and I’m gonna beg for his forgiveness. He’s the one who’s been a real father to me.”

The firelord only laughed again. “That’s just beautiful, maybe he can pass down to you the ways of tea and failure.”

“But I’ve come to an even more important decision,” he continued, ignoring his father completely, “I’m going to join the avatar and I’m going to help him defeat you.”

“Really?” Ozai smirked, “since you’re a full blown traitor now and you want me gone, why wait? I’m powerless, you’ve got your swords, why don’t you just do it now?”

“Because I know my own destiny. Taking you down is the avatar’s destiny,” he sheathed his swords and, although a part of you wanted nothing more than to strike him down now, you were in agreement with Zuko. It was not your place, “Goodbye.”

As Zuko turned and began to walk towards you again, ready to leave his father behind once and for all, the bitter man began to hurl more insults at his son, calling him a coward for confronting him during an eclipse when neither of them had their bending.

“If you have any real courage, you’ll stick around until the sun comes up. Don’t you want to know what happened to your mother?”

Those words stood Zuko in his tracks, even when you looked at him with pleading eyes. There was no time for this, the sun would be back soon and the two of you stood no chance against his father at his full power.

Without a second thought, the prince turned back around and demanded to know what happened the night his mother disappeared.

“My father, firelord Azulon, commanded me to do the unthinkable… to you, my own son, and I was going to do it. Your mother found out and swore she would protect you at any cost. She knew I wanted the throne and she proposed a plan. A plan in which I would become firelord and your life would be spared.”

It was awful, entirely diabolical, to think that a father would even consider murdering his own child but knowing what else the firelord had put Zuko through, somehow you weren’t at all surprised. It seemed in his very nature. You wondered what Zuko’s mother ever saw in the man.

“Your mother did vicious, treasonous things that night. She knew the consequences and accepted them. For her treason, she was banished.”

“So she’s alive...”

Cautiously, you moved to Zuko’s side, hoping to console him as tears began to spill across his face.

“Perhaps,” Ozai all but shrugged before raising his tone once again, “Now I realise that banishment is far too merciful a punishment for treason. Your penalty will be far steeper.”

In a flash, the firelord was moving, forming a stance you had only seen once before. The sun was back and he was drawing on its power to call lightning down. Lightning that he intended to use to put an end to his traitorous son once and for all.

“Zuko!” you cried, realising you had already missed your window to create a wall between the two of you and Ozai to block the attack.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as you ran towards Zuko only to see him do the impossible. He redirected the lighting, sending it crashing back down on his father who was thrown into the air at the force.

He grabbed your hand and ran, pulling you out of the bunker before his father could get back to his feet. As you ran out onto the streets, you saw what looked to be the avatar launching an assault on the Fire Nation airships, giving his friends enough time to retreat. “Look!”

“Do you think you can get up there?”

You furrowed your brows. There was a chance that with your bending you could reach the airships and help the avatar but you weren’t sure if you could get there in time. They were fleeing, after all, they weren’t going to stick around for long. Besides, you had more important things to do.

“Maybe,” you shrugged, “but I’m not leaving you. Let’s go get your uncle.”

With a determined smirk, he led you into the prison. He ran so fast that he seemed to miss the cowering guards and singed walls.

“Uncle!” he cried out when he reached Iroh’s cell but his uncle was already gone. The bars to his prison cell were broken and battered, blasted through from the inside. Iroh had already escaped.

Zuko was quick to run to one of the guards, interrogating him about what happened in a matter of seconds, only to be told what you already knew. Iroh had escaped, busted himself out before you had had the chance to get to him. He was long gone now, all you could do was get out of there yourselves.

“Zuko, we have to go. We’ll find Iroh again, I promise, but right now we need to leave!”

Although disappointed, he nodded and followed you back outside.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

[call-me-strega]

How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps: part 1

Jason meets Single Dad Danny who is taking care of a de-aged Dani while trying to get his degree at Gotham U. Both of them fall hard, hijinks and shenanigans ensue, simping on both sides.

Edit: background info/lore found here

Edit: part 2 now found here

~~~~

Step 1: Meet an attractive single parent

As a Crime Lord/vigilante Red Hood had multiple safe houses that he used in and out of the mask. Some were for each exclusive identity to prevent anyone from linking them together and others used for both. Currently, Jason was walking out of his 2nd favorite safe house and the mostly permanent residence of “civilian and non-profit worker: Jason Todd” with a plate of cookies and a pan full of lasagna for his new neighbors that moved in two doors down. He may have been a street rat but he’d be damned if Alfred and Talia hadn’t taught him hospitality (it was a fact of life that grandparents and Asian people would try to feed their guests like their honor depended on it). Plus it was a great way to do some reconnaissance on whether or not these new neighbors could potentially pose an issue. The apartment complex was on the border of Crime Alley and Burnley meaning the people who lived there weren’t doing too hot money-wise but were at least able to avoid the worst of Crime Alley. Jason was just planning to go over introduce himself, hand over the homemade food, and head off to a different safe house to get his gear and patrol. However, he was not expecting to see his new neighbor standing outside struggling to open his own door, a six-year-old on his hip, arguing with someone over the phone. The young man had a lean build and appeared to be no older than 20, give or take a year or two. He had black bangs that cast a shadow on his face making his eye-bags appear even darker and startling blue eyes clouded with anger and resentment, likely towards whoever was on the phone. He was so occupied with his conversation he didn’t seem to notice that someone else had stepped into the hallway. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a loose white shirt with a NASA logo on it that slightly hung off his shoulder. He also wore a black hoodie with a white hood and neon green accents that seemed to be subject to his sister(?)’s death grip. Despite his disheveled state, there was something about his new neighbor that drew him in. His aura washed over Jason like a cool breeze on a hot day making it hard for Jason to look away. He would have continued assessing the man if he hadn’t made eye contact with the identical blue eyes of the young girl perched on his hip, who looked at him with a curious sparkle in her eyes. He discreetly turned back around to lock his own door, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation the elder (brother?) seemed to be having. It could provide some info on these new neighbors.

“-shut up Vlad! I’m not moving into your rich guy penthouse! I wouldn’t be taking any of your shady money if I didn’t need child support for Ellie!”

Huh. So her dad/guardian then?

“ Of course I have to do this Vald! What’s the other option, sending her back to a Frootloop like you?! … I’m not going to abandon Ellie for something that wasn’t her choice. She didn’t ask to be created Vlad that’s why she gets a chance.”

Okay so setting aside the rather concerning parts New Neighbor Guy™️ was definitely that child’s parent. Seems fairly rational as well.

“How do I know you’d be a terrible guardian? Plenty of reasons, do you want the list chronologically or alphabetized! You violated me, who you said you wanted to adopt despite me having two living parents, you created Ellie and several other failed attempts without my knowledge, you hid her from me, you tried to teach her to hate me before we even met, you named her Danielle after me instead of giving her her own identity, the list goes on and on Vlad! Do you want me to continue because that’s just the stuff that involves Ellie— I was 14, you middle-aged vampire look-alike! Of course I wasn’t jumping at the chance to become a teen dad! I was a freshman in high school! Besides you know what my parents are like, lab safety regulations were more like a healthy suggestion to them. I was in no position to be taking care of a child!”

Rage flashed in Jason’s eyes as he tightened his grip on his glass Tupperware pan full of lasagna. This conversation was not painting a pretty picture about his neighbor’s situation. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself before belatedly realizing his neighbor had gotten real quiet. He turned around, catching the tail end of his neighbor’s conversation as he finally succeeded in opening the door.

“Whatever Vlad, just keep paying your child support and for Ancients’ sake please stop trying to date my mom. …. Yeah, yeah screw you too Count Chocula.”

The neighbor set his daughter down, likely so she could enter the apartment, and slipped his phone from between his head and shoulder into his hand to hang up on that Vlad guy. Now seemed like as good a time as any to approach. Jason walked up the the young man and coughed trying to get his attention. The young man met Jason’s eyes with a somewhat surprised look. As if he wasn’t unaware of Jason’s presence but hadn’t expected him to talk to him. Jason decided he should start speaking now before things got too awkward.

“Uh- Hi, I’m Jason. I live a few doors down in 357,” he said glancing at the 353 on his neighbors’ door before he continued. “I heard you moving in a few days ago and thought I’d swing by with some food to welcome you to the building.” He stuck out his hand for the other to shake.

“Hi I’m Danny, Danny Nightingale,” he said taking Jason’s hand and ‘Wow his hands are cold’, “ and this little munchkin here is Ellie!” Danny and Ellie flashed him matching smiles like twin suns making Jason's heart melt. He returned their smiles before extending the food to Danny.

“ I don’t know if you’ve had time to get groceries yet but here’s some homemade lasagna if you need a quick meal while you’re getting settled,” he then crouched down to Ellie’s level and stage-whispered in her ear conspiratorially “ and there are some chocolate chip cookies on that plate too.”

Ellie giggled out a thank and threw her arms around Jason’s neck, giving him a quick hug before letting go and dashing into the apartment. Jason watched her go, stunned but feeling warm and fuzzy inside. He turned his attention back to Danny, who shook his head and huffed amusedly. They made eye contact as Jason rose and realized he was a head taller than the guy. He felt the heat expanding in his chest and crawling up his neck, curling behind his ears. He decided now that Ellie had gone in it would be a good time to talk to Danny about what he overheard.

“ So it really wasn’t my intention to do so but I overheard some of that conversation you were having over the phone earlier,” he watched Danny’s smile drop a bit as he winced. Jason awkwardly brought up his hand to scratch the back of his neck and continued.

“ Look I don’t wanna insert myself into your situation but if you ever need help I’m just a few doors down. And if that guy gets pushy or stops sending his child support I can help you find a couple of avenues you can take. Plus, although we’re technically outside Red Hood’s territory I’m sure he wouldn’t mind extending protection over you like he does for the other Crime Alley folk if ya really need it.”

Danny’s face smoothed out looking a bit flushed and appreciative as he went on. He gave Jason a small smile and replied, “ Thank you for the offer. I really do appreciate it. Might just take ya up on it at some point. As for Red Hood? I think I’ll avoid needing the protection of a crime boss vigilante if I can help it. Don’t worry too much about Vlad though. I’ve got him handled currently and he’ll behave if he knows what’s good for him!” Danny smiled threateningly towards the end of his reassurance. (‘His canines are peaking out that’s so cute’)

Jason chuckled with Danny as their eyes locked once more. They stayed lost in each others’ eyes for what seemed like hours before they heard a thump followed by a small “oof” coming from inside the apartment. Danny turned to the door and called out to Ellie,

“Ellie, what was that? Are you okay”

“I’m fine! My shirt just fell!”

“That sounded heavier than a shirt?”

“I was in it!”

Danny sighed, shaking his head before turning to Jason once more.

“Thank you again for the food, any chance you’d like to come in and have something to drink?”

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll have to decline. I need to start heading out for work.”

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep you. I’d hate to make you late for work.” He waved goodbye as Jason nodded his head and started walking down the hall.

His neighbors seemed entirely harmless he decided as he walked away. ‘The kid was cute’ he thought to himself. A smaller voice from the back of his head that sounded vaguely like the Pits chimed in ‘Her dad was even cuter.’

~~~~~ Please let me know what you guys think and if you want to see more of this. I thrive on feedback so feel free to leave any notes or comments!

[whimsiwitchy]

I hear the secrets that you keep (series)

chapter three: you make me nervous

Pedro Pascal x F!reader 

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size reader (no specific description of reader, slight descriptions of weight: stomach fat, stretch marks, etc.), hefty age gap (24 years/14 years), female anatomy description, she/her pronouns, use of gendered terms (girl, girly, etc.), y/n used, descriptions of nudity, swearing,  use of the word fat, warnings may change as the story progresses. 

authors note: Hi everyone. I just posted chapter two a few hours ago but my mind was buzzing with ideas lol. This chapter has a lot of awkward energy so I apologize in advance. Enjoy <3

chapter summary: y/n attends the table read for Risky Disco and gets to know Pedro. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

The week leading up to the table read seemed to drag on. Even though you kept yourself busy, it was like every time you looked at a clock, it ticked slower and slower. You were somewhat grateful for the delay as it gave you more time to prepare yourself for your first day working on Risky Disco. Not only did it delay your first day of work, it also delayed having to see Pedro again. You felt so silly. One ten minute interaction was invading your entire nervous system. To prepare yourself to see him again, you started watching interviews and clips of him acting. You wanted to know what his personality was like so you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself when you two are bound to cross paths fairly soon. Whenever you weren’t working your server job, you were reading through your script or watching videos on Pedro. You felt kind of weird finding out things about him when he would know nothing about you, but hey that’s the price of fame right? People knowing things about someone without that person knowing anything about them. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The table read was set to start at 9am. So naturally, you were up at 5am to get ready for the day. You took a quick shower and started to decide what to wear. Trying to keep comfort in mind, you scanned your closet for an outfit. Table reads usually include a lot of sitting so you knew you didn’t want to wear anything too tight around your stomach. You hated when you sat and your jeans would dig into your stomach or when your ‘baggy’ jeans tightened around your thigh when it flattened against whatever you were sitting on. You really wanted to look as cute as possible though, for yourself of course, not for anyone else…

You decided to wear a pair of sheer black pantyhose, with black shorts pulled over them, accompanied by a simple black v neck long sleeve shirt. For shoes you wore your trusty pair of classic docs. Once you were dressed, you worked on your hair and makeup, keeping it fairly simple. Looking at the time, it was now 7am. You made a quick breakfast and drank a cup of coffee. After you finished eating, you grabbed a tote bag and filled it with all of your essentials: your script, chapstick, lipstick, perfume, deodorant, and wallet. You then filled up your reusable water bottle, grabbed your keys and made your way out of the door. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The table read was taking place in the same building as the audition, making it a lot easier to find where to go and park. After parking your car, it was 8:30. You decided to go ahead and go inside. When you walked in, you spoke to a receptionist who told you what room to go to. As you neared the room, you realized that you were the first person here and for some reason that was embarrassing for you. Instead of going in, you lingered near the door and tried to look busy on your phone. After five minutes of opening and closing different apps, you heard someone walking down the hallway. You kept your head down and pretended to text someone so you didn’t look like such a loser. 

“Hey, y/n right?” 

Your entire body tensed up, you know that voice. You know that voice a little too well after all of your ‘research’. 

“I’m Pedro, I read lines with you during your audition.” You finally looked up and you almost let out a gasp. He was wearing a pair of light denim jeans, a basic black t-shirt, and a leather jacket. You let your eyes meet his and you saw that he also sported a baseball style cap with a pair of glasses. In conclusion, he looked good. Too fucking good. 

“Oh yeah that’s me. Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you.” You let out the words better than you thought you would. He gives you a smile and raises his hand to offer a handshake. You reach out and latch your hand to his. His hand was soft yet rough at the same time and it engulfed yours in a perfect way. You both let go and stand in silence for a moment. 

“So, just us so far?” he asked as he looked around. “Yea, I guess so. I feel like such a weenie getting here so early.” You cringed at your choice of words but Pedro let out a laugh. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t say you're a weenie.” he said with emphasis on the word ‘weenie’. “You’re professional, early is good.” You gave him a thankful smile. “I had this theater teacher that would hound us for not being on time. She would always say ‘early is on time and- ""-and on time is late.” he finishes the phrase for you and the two of you both let out a small laugh. “You hear that a lot in the acting world. Yet no one seems to follow it.” He says while looked down at his phone to check the time. 

Silence falls over you two and you start fidgeting with your fingers as a distraction. “Hey, why don’t we go ahead and sit down. We can show off our skills of being on time to all of the late weenies.” He smiles and you laugh at his use of weenie again. Pedro opens the door for you and you let out a quick thank you. As you walk in, you see a large table with name tags in front of each chair. You glance around the table, searching for your name. Once you found it, you made your way to your chair and Pedro took a seat right next to you. 

He was so close to you and it was too intense. First he comes in looking like sex on legs, now he’s sitting only a few inches away from you. He smells so good. You wish you could just- “You don’t walk much do you?” he asked as he turned to look at you. You do the same. “Sorry, I don’t want you to think I don’t want to talk to you. I do. I just get weird around new people and don’t really know how to act and I just have horrible people skills in general sometimes. You also kind of make me really nervous.” You shut up and quickly turn to face forward with a blush on your face. “I make you nervous?” He asked. You gave him a quick glance and saw that he had that stupid smirk on his face. You actually can’t believe you just said that out loud. You had never been someone who got the nervous rambles. You usually just give a short answer and keep quiet. You were so humiliated it was unbearable. Luckily, the room began to fill up with other actors and crew members. You felt Pedro shift beside you and your leg started bouncing out of nervous habit. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The table read was surprisingly uneventful. You had been nervous to read lines back and forth with Pedro but somehow your mind locks in when it’s time to act. You could still feel the intensity, especially when it came to the scene that led up to the steamy moment between the main characters. You just ignored the butterflies and kept reading. 

Once it was over, the director gave a little speech and the crew gave us a few notices. Letting everyone know to check their emails frequently for any changes made to the schedule. As soon as they released everyone for the day, you gathered your things and began to make the walk back to your car. Just as you were grabbing your door handle, you heard your name being called. When you looked up Pedro was jogging over to you. “Hi.” He said as he stopped in front of you. “Uhh hi.” You said awkwardly, still embarrassed from earlier. “Would you maybe want to hang out, get to know each other a little bit? We’ll be spending a lot of time together on screen and I would love to get to know you outside of filming and stuff.” All you could do is stand there and look at him. “I’ll try my best not to make you nervous.” He teased as he smiled brightly at you awaiting an answer. “If I agree to this, you have to promise to not make me nervous.” You held your pinky up and he linked his with yours, locking in his promise. You both dropped your hands. “So uh, what do you want to do?” “I honestly didn’t think that far ahead, I was just trying to catch you before you left.” You look down at the ground and think. “I mean you could come to my place. It’s small and there’s not much to do but we can just hang around and talk I guess…” You trail off at the end looking up at him. “Yea that sounds perfect.” There's a pause… “Uh, do you want me to give you my address or something?” “Oh yea here, let me give you my number so you can send it to me.” You pull out your phone and go to create a new contact. You hand your phone to him and he types in his number. When he hands it back, you notice that he set his contact name to ‘Pedro :)’. You smiled a little and opened the message app and sent him your address. “I just sent it. Did you get it?” He grabs his phone out of his pocket. “Yea I got it.” another pause… “Uh okay cool well, I’ll see you there I guess.” “Yea see you there.” He smiles. “Just text me or something when you get there so you don’t get lost in my apartment complex.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

When you got home and hadn’t received a text from Pedro yet, you ran inside and quickly cleaned up as much as you could and sprayed some air freshener. 

‘I’m here :)’

Shit. You checked your appearance in the mirror before running out of the door and down to the parking lot. When you saw him, you started rethinking your entire life that led up to this point. What did you do to deserve having a sexy ass man want to hang out and get to know you?? I mean it’s for work purposes but still, it counts in your head as something more. You saw him get out of his car and make his way over to you. “Hi, um, follow me.” God why did you have to be so weird. “Okie dokie, lead the way.”. Once the two of you reached your apartment, you opened the door and walked inside. “You can take your shoes off if you want, I don’t really care but if you’d be more comfortable you can.” You look at him and he’s smiling at you. “Sorry, I don’t know why I keep rambling.”. You sigh and usher him to follow you to the living room. He takes off his jacket and hat. The sight of his biceps in that tight ass black shirt almost has you drooling. You try to collect yourself as quickly as possible before he notices anything. You take off your doc martens and plop down on the couch. You pat the couch and he sits on the other end. This is so fucking awkward oh my god. 

“Do you want anything to drink or something?”.

“No it’s okay, thank you though.” 

“No problemo.” 

Silence.. 

“Is there anything specific you want to know or um..” You look at him and quickly look away. “Sorry I'm really not good at meeting new people and being myself.” Your leg starts to bounce. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be sorry. You told me you had trouble with new people and I sprung this on you.” His eyes move around the room. “You don’t have to be sorry. I promise I want to get to know you too, I just don’t really know how to do that.” 

He thinks for a moment. 

“How about we start with what we already know about each other, then we can ask each other questions based on that? Sound good?” You nod. 

“I can go first. I know your name is y/n. I also know that you’re 35 and that you’re an actress.” You squint your eyebrows together. 35? Where the hell did he get that from? You think for a moment.. Oh fuck. You completely forgot that Angie said you were 35 to get the audition.  

“Oh um yeah. Well I know your name is Pedro, I think you’re 49 but I’m honestly not that sure, and I also know that you’re an actor.” oh yea totally believable that you didn’t know this man's age  by adding an ‘I think’ super smooth…

“How long have you been acting?” 

“Well I moved here like six years ago, almost seven at this point. I did some theater in high school. So however long that is. This is my first big role though.” “That’s surprising.” “What is?” “That this is your first big role.” “Why do you say that?” “Sweetheart, your audition was incredible. You were a natural.” 

Sweetheart 

“Oh um thank you. I’d like to think I’m good.” “You are good.” He sets his hand on your thigh and squeezes as he speaks and immediately retracts his hand. You can still feel the warmth of his quick touch and the spot tingles. Your heart is beating at an unhealthy speed. You look down at your thigh and back to his stupid handsome smiling face.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The two of you continued to talk and get to know each other. You spoke about acting, family, interests, hobbies. Once the conversation flowed more, it was easier to let loose and talk to him without stuttering every two seconds. 

Pedro was laughing at something you said when your stomach growled. 

“Oh my god that is so embarrassing.” You hide your face in your hands. “No need to be embarrassed sweetheart.” There was that name again. “I should leave soon, I didn’t realize it was so late already.” You really wanted him to stay. “You don’t have to go. I was probably going to order something if you wanted to join me.” You offered hoping he would say yes. “I don’t want to be a bother, I’ll get out of your hair.” “Oh. Okay.”. He stood up and stretched his arms up, making his shirt raise just enough for you to catch a glance at his lower tummy. You quickly looked away and stood up as well. 

He put his hat and jacket back on. “Well I should head out.” “Yea.. yea um I’ll walk you out.” You both started walking towards the door. “I’ll see you soon yea? Next time you better not be all shy again you hear me?” “No promises. You make me nervous, remember?.” He chuckles. You open the door for him. He gives you a quick goodbye and then he's gone. You close the door and make your way back to the couch to sit down. You ordered some food and tried to process everything that happened today. 

As you were eating, you got a text. 

Pedro :) 

I had a lot of fun today, we should do it again. 

You start to text a reply but before you can hit send, another text comes through. 

Pedro :) 

Did I mention that you looked really beautiful today? 

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

Thank you for reading <3

next chapter

[mrchiipchrome]

Once In A Lifetime

W.C.- 3 k

prompt 103. -I won't let you down.

prompt 107. -I haven’t seen you in a long time.

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

June 17th 2011, a date that was etched in your brain forever, for it was the day you met your soulmate. In a large town situated in the northeast of Australia, a shy Swedish girl met an outgoing Aussie girl, roughly her age.

It was hard not to notice the gorgeous girl, and even harder for your 7 year old self not to stare at her. The way her movements were so gracious made you slightly envious, the ball at her feet moving smoothly as she kicked it back and forth. 

The ball smacking you right in the face breaks you out of the trance the girl with the pretty eyes had put you in, the sudden momentum brings you down to the ground. Your parents, like always, weren’t paying you any attention, they wanted you to be ‘independent’.

“I’m so sorry! I was just trying to kick the ball at the goal but it went over, and I’m sorry.” The pretty girl was kneeling beside you, her eyes locked on yours. Dora had taught you a lot, but not how to decipher quickly strung together sentences of pretty girls with Australian accents.

“It is…no problem?” The nameless girl helps you into a sitting position, her eyebrows knitting together at the strange dialect that came with your words. It was foreign, that much she knew.

“I’m Mary” She sticks out a hand towards you eagerly, nearly thrusting it in your face. You grasp her warm hand in yours tentatively, sweaty palm meeting hers.

“My name is Y/n.” You reply, face red hot from the heat of the new country and from the girl in front of you.

“So, Y/n , do you want to play football with me?” She flashes you her pearly whites in a full face smile. Mary points down at the ball laying haphazardly beside you, picking it up and throwing it between her fingertips.

She smiles again when your head moves up and down frantically, pulling you back up on your feet as she leads you onto the pitch. 

“Okay, you go in the goal!” She points at the goal of the small pitch, barely letting you get between the posts before she sends a ball towards you.

The sky turns dark after a couple of hours of throwing yourself on the ground to prevent the ball from rolling into the goal. You had improved greatly in the last few hours, that much Mary could admit.

“Hey Y/n, come here tomorrow at 12!” She calls out to your retreating form, seeing your thumb pointing upwards in agreement. 

And in between the goalposts she found you the day after, t-shirt and shorts letting the rough pitch scratch at your arms and legs as you threw yourself left and right.

“Where are you from?” She asks one day, sitting beside you on that pitch you’d first met each other only months before. Your English has greatly improved, with the help of the pretty girl beside you of course.

“Sweden” Short and curt, there were days where you just couldn’t find it in you to string together more than a few words.

“Can you teach me Swedish?!” Mary asks excitedly, the now 8 year old you smiling up at the slightly taller girl. She throws her arms around your shoulders when you nod, your back hitting the ground with a soft thud.

You wrap your arms around the older girl, albeit reluctantly. Affectionate touch isn’t something you were used to.

Days, weeks, months and eventually, years passed. Mary and you stayed best friends all throughout the phases of growing up. The chemistry you had on and off the pitch confused most people, they’d see you with your arms around each other, lips pressed to the other’s hairline or cheek. There was barely anything platonic there left, and everyone except you two seemed to know.

The once innocent 7 and 8 year old girls were now two deeply (and secretly) in love 13 and 14 year olds. The two of you were peas in a pod, never able to find one without the other, well until that dreadful October night.

Four knocks in rapid succession wakes the sleeping girl, the firm taps to her window differing from the soft patter of the rain against her roof.

She rubs her eyes sleepily, turning her desk lamp on as she makes her way over to the window. The blinds cover your devastated expression, although not for very long as she pulls them back, revealing your tearstained face.

The window opens with a creak, Mary grabbing the back of your hoodie to drag you in through the small opening. You hit the floor with a loud thud, groaning as your shoulder smashes into the hard ground.

Sitting up, you lean back against the corner of her soft bed, the soft bed you’d slept in so many times before. You refuse to meet the forward’s gaze, tears welling up in your eyes at the mere thought of telling her.

She throws herself down next to you, Mary’s arm pulling your body into her own. The simple touch releases the floodgates, sobs echoing around the room, her hand moving up and down your arm soothingly. 

“What’s happening, huh? Why are you so upset?” Mary’s heart broke at seeing you so sad, so devastated. 

“I’m fucking moving” The words are hardly audible, mumbled into her shoulder through sobs. Tears slip down your face, colouring the Australian’s sleep shirt a darker shade of blue.

“What?! No, this is some joke. Where?” Her hand stills for a few seconds before she continues her ministrations. 

“Back to Sweden. They got a ‘better job’ there, they never think of how I’m going to react, they just say yes to anything.” You cry to the older girl, who clutches you that much tighter, her head laying on top of yours.

“When do you go?” She whispers into the damp October air, lips moving to the sound of her own voice. Sniffling fills the tense silence, moving your hand up wipe away the salty tears painting tracks down your face. It comes down to land on her knee, gripping it with all your might.

“Umm…two weeks or something.” She brings one of your hands up to her lips, pressing them to the back of it. Neither of you were ready to live without the other, you were dependent upon each other. 

“Well then lovely, we’ll just have to make these next two weeks the best ever possible.” Her body pulls away from yours, starring you right in the eyes. 

Neither you nor Mary anticipate it. It just happens naturally, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that has fireworks exploding in your stomach. The delicate embrace is a confession of love, a promise to love each other forever, even if it’s from afar.

It’s simple, the love you share. It’s deeper than an ‘I love you’, deeper than the deepest point of the earth. And yet the simplicity didn’t explain why, how, when, or anything really. It was just there, underlying.

The two weeks are spent sharing kisses with your best friend under the sheets of her bed. Thankfully, Mary’s parents had basically unofficially adopted you, so they had no problem with you staying with them until you had to move. 

Your parents barely even noticed your absence, too caught up in work to even think of you.

With everything you had to leave in Australia, you left part of your heart. The people around you, your family, and most importantly, Mary.

“Promise me you’ll go all the way beautiful. That you’ll become the best.” You whisper in her ear, about to go through security. The resentment you held for your parents had quadrupled the last few weeks, your home wasn’t in Sweden anymore, it was in Australia. It was in the form of a brown eyed beauty that had captured both your heart and soul.

“I promise lovely, I won’t let you down.” She looks around, your parents as always were preoccupied with their phones, and hers? They looked away as soon as she shot them a look.

Your person takes hold of your face and places one last kiss to your lips, taking her time to make sure you feel all her love in the kiss.

“Hey, beautiful! You’ll always be my person!” She turns around, flashing you one of her signature smiles, tears streaming down her face like they were down yours.

With one last wave, the best chapter of your life closes. 

“Kom igen Y/n, det är tid att åka hem.” Your ‘mother’ tries to give you a reassuring smile, her bony hand laying on your shoulder.

It falls with a swift movement from you, tearing your shoulder away from her.

“Sverige är inte mitt hem längre M/n, Australien är.” You mutter angrily, your mother’s firm glare locked on you.

“Y/n Y/l/n, jag vet att det inte är den bästa situationen för dig just nu, men vi är dina föräldrar och vi bestämmer.” The man who dared to call himself your father told you sternly.

“Mycket till föräldrar har ni ju inte varit, en sten hade gjort ett bättre jobb än er två.” The two strangers in front of you look at each other, not caring enough to reprimand you. They didn’t know you either.

Hugging the blanket Mary had given you the night before closer to your chest, you could feel the love radiating off it.

———

A few years in Sweden and you were back home, back in Australia. 

As soon as you turned 18 you moved out, changing your last name to one of your grandmother's maiden name, your so called parents had nothing to do with your footballing success. After all, you had signed your first professional contract at the age of 16.

And apparently you had a worthy enough season with your team that you were called up for the World Cup.

Of course you had your emotional support blanket with you, the old thing had lost all of her scent long ago and yet it was still there with you as a good luck charm.

“Y/n how are you not falling asleep right now?” Nathalie Björn questions you, seemingly amazed by your ability to stay awake for hours upon end.

“BabyBjörn have you forgotten that I’ve done this so many times before?” She looks at you astonished, maybe you had forgotten to tell them after all…

“Did I forget to tell you all that I lived in Australia for nearly seven years?” You ask, scratching your head in confusion.

“WHAT” “NÄE DET GJORDE DU JU INTE” and more expressions of surprise cling out through the plane. 

“I have pictures to back me up, wait a sec and I’ll pull them up.” Your computer holds all your old memories, all the pictures flooding from the folder you had them in.

The interested parties crowd around your seat, pushing and shoving each other for a better view.

“Right so this is at the airport, basically the only picture my biological parents took. I think I was seven there.”

You continue to click through the photos, narrating as you go along. When you eventually reach the last one, the questions start flooding in.

“Who’s that girl in all the pictures?” One of them asks, you turning to look at your captain in confusion.

“Me?”

“No, the other girl” She slaps the back of your head lightly.

“Oh, she’s the best person I’ve ever met, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.” The soft smile that paints your lips at the thought of her made your teammates smile too.

“You were in love?” Another one of the yellow clad players asks, them all having seen the pure love in your eyes as you looked at the pictures of the girl.

“Am” The team decided to leave you alone after that, you deciding to look at the pictures in the folder once again.

“Is it just me or did that girl look like Mary Fowler?” Filippa asks Björn, the two of them agreeing silently. 

—————

Getting knocked out in the semifinal hurt. You were nearly there, in the final. But now you had no choice but to settle for the bronze medal match.

Like usual, you were starting on the bench. You couldn’t even be mad at the decision, Zesse had been playing magnificently all tournament long.

As the first goal came along you were screaming and jumping up from your seat, causing complete ruckus. One step closer to victory. 

At halftime the elation can be felt all throughout the locker room, many slapping Zesse’s  back for her incredible saves so far. The tactics and pep talk reinforces the spirit of the team before the second half begins.

In the 47th minute the host country gets a corner, a corner that results in your goalie laying on the pitch, clutching her head.

The medics are out quick, your coach looking at you. 

“Y/n, go stretch, you’re going on.” The coach tells you, the bright bib being pulled off hastily. The substitution board goes up, showing off your number to be subbed in.

You feel the eyes of thousands on you, maybe the most people you’d ever had look at you, and yet her eyes are the ones you want to look at you the most.

The eyes that captured your soul all those years ago, the eyes you ultimately met when you walked past her and onto the pitch. The eyes that didn’t quite seem to recognize you fully, the eyes that scanned your tall frame.

Under the watchful eyes of thousands of Australians, you had what might’ve been the best game of your lifetime, leading your team to victory over the hosting nation.

Loud cheers in Swedish follow the three loud beeps of the whistle, the bronze medal finally yours. You run towards your friends, capturing them in big bear hugs and spinning them around.

But when you look at the Australians, more specifically Mary, you don’t have it in you to celebrate anymore. Instead you approach a few of them who are standing up, conversing quietly with tentative steps.

You speak up quietly, telling them that they did amazingly and even getting a few compliments in return. But the women could see that your eyes were drifting away from them every few seconds and towards one of their teammates. Excusing yourself politely, you make your way over to her sitting form.

You plop yourself down beside her, arms over your knees as your fingers pick at the grass. You can feel her eyes studying you, looking at your side profile. 

“I’m sorry for not keeping in touch with you beautiful, it was pretty hard when you didn’t have a phone.” Your eyes are fixated on a ball in the distance.

Her sniffles remind you of when you told her you were moving, only this time it’s you who pulls her crying form into your now taller body.

 It’s only when you look into her eyes properly that she seems to recognise you fully.

“Y/n?!” Reminiscent of all those times when you were younger, the older girl throws herself into your arms, yours wrapping around her protectively. Her tears wets the skin between your shoulder and neck, the two of you laying on a pitch like you always had been.

“I know pretty girl, we haven’t seen each other in a long time.” She smiles up at you, rolling off your body and onto the floor. 

Holding hands, the two of you can’t help but catch up. It had been a few years since you’d talked after all.

“I’m proud of you and the person you’ve turned out to be, Y/n.” The tear that falls down your cheek is wiped away by the girl, hands warm as ever.

“I’m proud of you too, Mary.” 

“Can I get your shirt?” She asks timidly, hands fiddling with her own.

“Of course love” Taking it off and handing it to her, you’re standing in only the usual sports bra, waiting for her to give you the Australian jersey that sits upon her shoulders. Instead you see her eyes shifting to the left, mischievous spark lighting them up.

In a millisecond, she takes off running with your shirt still in her hand. Chasing after her, you’re not nearly as fast as the forward and still you chase her, yearning for the usual laughter that follows it.

The freeing feeling of running around the pitch catches up to you, Mary’s laughter echoing in your ears. It makes you laugh too, in the end you’re both laying on the ground laughing like maniacs.

“Can I get your jersey now, beautiful?” You ask when the laughter has died down, her hands moving to peel her jersey from her body. When it’s off she hands it to you, putting yours on.

“You look good in Swedish colours, beautiful.” You kiss her hand softly, twirling her around so that you can see her from all angles. 

“And you’d look even better in Aussie ones, love.” You hummed in response, looking around at your teammates who had looked on in confusion.

“I think we might need to tell them all why we’re hugging and laughing” Her hands clutch onto your arm as you lead her over to your team.

"Tjejer, det här är flickan från bilderna.” You tell them, the girl beside you waving timidly in your goalkeeper kit.

“Hej!” She says, the other women around you lighting up at her use of the Swedish greeting.

As everyone else is talking with your girl, you can’t take your eyes off her. But you do see the satisfied expression on Angeldahl’s face as she nods to Björn. Those two were always up to something…

-----------

Translations;

Kom igen Y/n, det är tid att åka hem - Come on Y/n, it's time to go home.

Sverige är inte mitt hem längre M/n, Australien är - Sweden's not my home anymore M/n, Australia is

Y/n Y/l/n, jag vet att det inte är den bästa situationen för dig just nu, men vi är dina föräldrar och vi bestämmer - Y/n Y/l/n, I know that this situation isn't ideal for you, bur we're your parents and we decide what's best.

Mycket till föräldrar har ni ju inte varit, en sten hade gjort ett bättre jobb än er två. - You two are barely my parents, a rock could've done a better job at raising me than you two.

BabyBjörn - a type of baby carrier from sweden

NÄE DET GJORDE DU JU INTE - NO YOU DIDN'T

Hej - Hi

[misssakuramochi]

A READER x BALOR DRABBLE

Synopsis: When Balor moved to Mistria, and especially after meeting the farmer, he was quick to realize that he had bitten off much more than he could chew without getting attached. To his surprise, he's not complaining.

Requested by: @rare-peach

Request: '😍 im eating your blog up we are in a lot of the same fandoms! the Mistria bachelors head canon though 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨🙏I would love to request any more Balor head canons or Drabbles (balorxreader … I’m very normal about him) and would also totally be open to a trade :))) (feel free to message me for trade I can send you my Ao3!)'

Age Rating: 14+ (Some suggestive themes)

Warning(s): Mild sexual references

Genre: Romance, fluff

If anyone were to ask Balor what he had expected to find upon settling in Mistria his answer would have been simple: profit. A small town racked by the devastation of an earthquake, desperate to get back on its legs was an untapped economy, after all. With the other merchants of the capitol unwilling to make the journey across the broken landscape, he would be the only one to forge lasting trade relations with Mistria's residents.

What he wouldn’t tell them is how much more he had truly discovered in this idyllic little town. It was true: when Balor had first begun his treks to Mistria, he had done it in search of greater profits. But the more time he spent in town, the more closely he worked with the people of the village, the more infectious he found their passion. It hadn’t taken Balor long to get fully swept up in the villager’s love of their home, and before he knew it he was working to support their efforts as best he could with need of no more motivation than seeing their smiles. Of course, he still made profits; a fact he was grateful for, as it gave him an unwavering scapegoat for anyone who might question his continued intentions. Even if he didn’t, though, Balor hated to admit that he probably wouldn’t be going anywhere.

In Mistria, Balor had found much more than work. He’d found community. Friends who treated him with the open acceptance he had heard was supposed to run in families, a home he could make a difference in, and, even more unexpected than all of these developments, Balor had found you.

A soft sigh sounding next to him had Balor’s head turning, eyes growing fond as they settled upon your sleeping features. Even as Balor had found himself admitting that he loved the town, even as he could no longer deny that he cared for it’s people, Balor had never expected someone to pass so expertly through his carefully crafted walls that he would find himself falling in love with them. Still, laying with chest exposed and messy hair in your bed next to you, having stayed past morning light and still finding his body unwilling to move even an inch further away from your warmth, Balor couldn’t deny what he felt for you. What surprised him that he didn’t want to.

“You certainly are remarkable, aren’t you.” Balor spoke in barely a whisper, his desperation not to wake you, to hold onto this moment for even a second longer, matched only by his need to be close to you. A careful hand moved with trepid hesitation, slow in its raise as Balor shifted ever-so-carefully to place a gentle set of fingers to your cheek. His heart paused as you stirred at the touch, only to melt as you cuddled into his hands, eyes remaining blissfully closed. Light-fingered hands traced down the line of your jaw, a cautious thumb running over your slightly parted lips as Balor allowed his gaze to dip to what he could see of you beneath the covers, still bare from the night before.

It wasn’t as though Balor was a stranger to physical intimacy. Generally, though, he preferred to keep it to just that, locking away his emotions for someone he didn’t believe he would ever find, and leaving the partner’s he did have long before morning light. It was simpler that way - easier when names weren’t exchanged and emotions weren’t involved. Laying next to you, though, heart hammering in his chest as memory flashed across his mind, Balor found the soft, gooey emotion he usually dreaded to be oddly comforting.

“Oh my.” Even as he sighed Balor found himself unable to hold back a smile - a genuine smile, “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

xxx

6:00am sharp, just a short hour after the rise of the run. It was almost like clockwork the way you’d be woken up at this time by the first of your roosters as he cried out in praise of the rising sun, and the food that surely came soon after.

Achy-muslced and lethargic you took your time stretching out the mornings aches, blinking away the blurry sleep in your vision as your oriented yourself to the waking world. As memory began to return to your mind you found your head lolling to the side where your night’s lover had curled up, only to find your heart dropping into your stomach as you found the bed next to you empty. The pillow’s indent was fresh, the bed still lingering with his warmth - but your night's partner was nowhere to be seen.

“Balor?” Your voice was small, rough with sleep as you croaked out a small plea. It wasn’t as though you didn’t know that Balor was… guarded, so to speak. Still, you had hoped that after last night…

“Good morning my dear.” The building sickness of dread beginning to churn in your stomach cleared almost instantaneously, dissolving into fluttering butterflies as your weak call was met with an answer. Pulling yourself into a slow sitting position you found your eyes locking with Balor’s, a smile softer than his usual pulling his lips upwards as he gestured with a tray in his hands.

“Have you been up long? I thought I’d be able to finish up before you woke.” A few small steps found Balor standing at your bedside, contents of the tray in his hands revealed as he slid it onto the bed in front of you, “I’m sorry if I worried you.” It was an easy placation and it was no sooner that he’d spoken his apology that you had moved to make more room in the bed, eyes falling to the tray he’d presented you with. 

“Mm, no, it’s ok. Did you make breakfast?” Your sleep-laced voice, words slurred as you rubbed at your eyes, made Balor’s heart jump in his chest. He tried not to show it as he ruffled the already mussed strands of your hair before sliding his hand to your cheek, giving it a small, affectionate pinch.

“I figured it was the least I could do after how generous you were last night.” Your blushing cheeks gave Balor the upper hand once more and, satisfied, he came to sit next to you, “It isn’t much, but you’ll need the energy to take care of the farm this morning right? Don’t worry, I was sure to get myself a coffee for the morning.” Raising the mug in his hand Balor quickly dismissed any potential argument as your eyes settled upon the singular plate he’d brought in, stacked high with a simple breakfast; an omelet made fresh with the forage you’d been keeping.

“I-- thank you. This is…” 

“Don’t mention it. Come on, we’ve got a little while left before you need to get out to work, right?” Your enthusiastic nod was enough to set Balor’s heart aflutter, though the kiss you dared press to his cheek nearly made it combust. You were so utterly adorable he was unsure what to make of you, sometimes.

“Yeah. We could spend the morning together before you have to get going, right?”

“That sounds perfect.”

xxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Thank you so much for your request!! I love this little dude, I hope I was able to do him decent justice for you! Always a pleasure to write for one of my faves.

Safe travels, reader!

[lalal-99]

of new friendship {h.j.} | track 3

©June 2023, March 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 3.8k

Synopsis: The one where you go to a Jackson Wang party.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: As promised, this chapter is much shorter than the last. The next will, again, have 6k, but after that, chapters will be shorter (I think). Also, I wrote the most angsty and heartbreaking chapter yesterday and I can't wait to post it when it's due. Hope you enjoy this :)

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Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You

You couldn’t remember the last party you had been to.

A real party, with crates of alcohol, loud music, and drunk people, that was.

Throughout your early teen years it had been a regular part of your week. Getting drunk, befriending strangers and making mistakes. You left no party within reach unattended, no matter the people or their willingness to provide alcohol to minors. You had figured out ways to always get what you wanted in the end. And what you wanted at that time was to drink away any and every one of your brain cells.

With a little luck it would be the very one that made you remember the grief of losing a parent.

Whenever you told people about those days, it was as an explanation to why you rarely drank now. Most people also thought Jisung had helped you overcome that part of your life. It would have fit right into their version of a romantic love story—girl sad, girl meets boy, boy fixes girl. Happy end.

Most people couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jisung, like yourself, was plagued by his very own share of suffocating pain. And he too wanted to forget, desperately. In meeting you, he found someone who was right as troubled, maybe even more so. Thus, a toxic relationship formed, the two of you soon becoming the life of every party you attended.

Any party you went to, you became the centre of. Be it a friend’s party, a friend’s sibling’s party, or a stranger’s party one of your mutual friends had heard about god-knows-where. Surrounded by a crowd of people, both your age and older, you became the main source of entertainment. Making people laugh and providing them with memories they wouldn’t forget. Because which other two 14-year-olds could keg-stand and funnel like grown-ups?

You weren’t proud of it, but at the same time, it was as much part of your story as everything before and after. The darkest part, filled with pain, rage, and the simple desire to forget, yes. But a part never less.

Those times were long gone; life had caught up to you at some point.

Despite your party-animal-past, a shiver ran down your back when the frat house appeared on the horizon.

People gathered on the porch, on the stairs leading up to it, and on the lawn, smoking, drinking, and making out. Whatever stereotypical frat-party scenario you could have come up with played out right in front of your eyes.

You lingered for a moment, watching the scene unfold. Unsure how to approach the evening or if you even still wanted to. Hadn’t it been for Yuqi taking matters into her own two hands and dragging you inside... Well, you would have turned around and chosen the safety of your room instead.

Your partying days sure had passed.

When you entered the house, a thick veil of warmth and sweat hit you, a breath of nausea taking over your being. A sea of people was stumbling from room to room, up the stairs or towards you, in a desperate search for fresh air. If you planned on staying here for the next few hours, you’d need a drink. Or five.

Yuqi turned towards you, excitement evident on her face, “Wanna look for Jisung?”

“Drinks first!” you yelled back, her nod telling you she had understood. Surprising, seeing someone had cranked the bass right up to 11.

With your hand in hers, Yuqi pulled you through the crowd until you reached the kitchen. It was less crowded than the rest of the house, meaning you had a safe haven you could come to if things got too much. Judging from the tension in your back not even five minutes in, you’d need it at some point.

You didn’t pay too much attention to the people around you. The couple making out on the counter or the group chatting on the other side of the room. Instead, your gaze focused on the beers in the ice-filled sink. A sigh of relief escaped you as the cold, bitter liquid ran down your throat. The first half of the bottle, you emptied in that initial gulp.

You must have needed this more than you noticed.

“Impressive,” Yuqi praised you, her lips wrapping around her own bottle for a less eager sip. “Remind me never to face you in a drink-off.”

“Trust me, my drink-off days are far behind me.”

Your voice startled one of the people standing by the side, a familiar face snapping towards you. “Y/N?”

You found Hwasa leaning against the counter, a surprised expression taking over her features.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Your roomie had told you she’d be going out tonight too. Although you hadn’t expected her to be at the same party you had been dragged into. Pulling you into a hug, a few of her locks tickled your nose. “Jisung got invited by an old friend.”

“And you brought my new favourite person! Hi!” Hwasa greeted Yuqi with another bone-crushing hug. To an outsider, it must have looked like you hadn’t seen each other for years rather than yesterday.

“Don’t call me your favourite person, or I will cry.”

The smile on Yuqi’s face spread from one ear to the other as she let go of your roommate. After a few shorts hours spent with her, she had opened up to you about how difficult it usually was for her to make friends. Similar to Jisung, her quirky persona more times than not scared people off. Befriending not one but two people within the first week on campus, her happiness was understandable.

“So, who’s the mystery friend that invited you here? Wait, don’t tell me! I’m gonna guess. Is it Chris? He knows, like, everyone.” You shook your head, never having heard that name in your life. Scratching her chin with two perfectly manicured fingernails, Hwasa pondered. “Matthew? He’s been around for a while.” Again, you didn’t know who she was talking about.

This game could have taken forever. There were about 300 people who could have invited you, judging from the crowd inside this house. Though the fun was cut short when the door to the kitchen opened, and a familiar face entered the scene. Just like you remembered, he was followed by a crowd of eager people. Ever the centre of everything.

“No way! Am I dreaming? Y/N! I can’t believe you came.”

You startled when he pulled you into a hug, wrapping your arms around him with reluctance. You hadn’t seen him in over two years, and this was how he decided to greet you? A hug? Thinking about it, you had probably hugged him only a handful of times in your lifetime. Your birthday, maybe. Or Christmas.

“Hi, Jackson.”

He let go of you, momentarily staying in your proximity before stepping back.

He looked good, face clean-shaven and hair pulled back by a baseball cap. His clothes told the same story they always did. Rich guy with swagger, Gucci earrings somehow accentuating his baggy clothing. Jackson, for all you remembered, had always dressed like this. Drenching his aura in handsome.

“How is everyone? How’s the fam?”

“Everyone is perfect. Healthy, happy.”

Despite your best efforts to sound nonchalant, you couldn’t help the undertone of spite. Jackson seemed to understand the secret message, nodding as his lips pressed into a thin line.

You wanted to be nice to him as you were aware he was a good person at heart. But after everything, you couldn’t help being a little bitter still.

Hwasa—oblivious to a fault—interrupted the awkward shift this conversation had taken and you silently thanked the heavens. “You know each other?”

“What? You do, too?” Jackson replied, pointing between the two of you, ever the Spiderman-meme. “How?”

“We’re roommates.”

Emptying your first bottle, you pulled a second one out of the sink, opening it on the marble of the kitchen island. A party trick from back in your heyday you never quite unlearned.

“What? That’s crazy!” Jackson seemed genuinely surprised. He pulled his baseball cap off his head and repositioned it over a few loose strands. “Small world.”

“How about you?” you threw the question back to them.

“We’re—” Jackson cut himself off, eyes meeting Hwasa’s as they toasted their bottles. A quick wink, and he finished his contextually unbelievable description of their relationship. “Friends.”

Hwasa choked on her drink, laughing at his words as if it was the funniest thing she had heard all year. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

You remembered Yuqi, who was leaning against the counter beside you, perfectly quiet as she listened. Probably the quietest you had seen her since you met her. And that included the courses you visited together.

“Fine. We used to hook up. Happy?” Jackson corrected his previous statement. The wink he had sent Hwasa made way more sense now.

“Almost. You seem to have forgotten the part in which you fell hopelessly in love with me.”

Your eyes focused on the two of them. Could Hwasa be the girl? No way! That would have been too big of a coincidence.

“Okay, you are blowing that way out of proportion.” Chuckling at her words, Jackson positioned himself so that he was now facing her. “I had a little crush on you.”

“Exactly. What I said.”

Huffing, Jackson shook his head, pulling Hwasa into a side hug of sorts. Good thing Wheein wasn’t around to witness this flirtatious moment. Her absence explained why Hwasa even let someone come close to her like this. Her girlfriend’s presence seemed to put her a little on edge. Like Hwasa was in constant hope she wouldn’t do something to offend Wheein. Or, God forbid, make her think she was anything but faithful.

“We broke things off, and now—”

“We’re besties,” Hwasa ended his statement, patting his chest as they smiled at each other.

It couldn’t have been silent for more than five seconds before Jackson unwrapped his arm from his bestie. He fetched himself a fresh bottle out of the sink.

“Anyways,” throwing you and Yuqi a kind smile, Jackson turned to his friends. They were still gathered behind him, talking over each other with loud laughter. “It was nice seeing you again. I hope you and Sungie have a great night. Let me know if you need anything.”

Making his way out of the room, he left you to yourselves, sipping on your bottle like you hadn’t just emptied the last one. “Good luck finding him if you need anything. Jackson won’t be in the same room for longer than a minute.”

There was no need to tell you that.

At every party he had ever thrown, Jackson had always been nowhere and everywhere, all at once. You distinctly remembered searching for an hour once before eventually finding him where you had started. How he did it, no idea, but he sure was a pro at it.

“Let me get back to my friends. I’ll see you later?”

Nodding, you turned towards Yuqi, who had about 100 questions dancing on the tip of her tongue. The second you were on your own, she erupted like a waterfall.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” As if she would buy that. There was no way you didn’t know what she was talking about. Your body language had been very see-through throughout that whole interaction. Arms crossed, lips tight, brows cocked.

“Don’t play me, bitch!” A term of endearment, you had learned. “There was so much tension, I thought I was in Riverdale for a sec.”

You laughed at her words, shaking your head. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Alright.” Yuqi accepted, but not before getting at least one last statement out in the open. “He’s smoking hot, but whatever he did to you, I would not want to be him.”

The two of you left the kitchen on a seemingly impossible quest to find your boyfriend. You forced your way through the crowd until you reached a less dense section of the room. Only then you noticed a group of people a little further back, right by a window.

You motioned for Yuqi to follow you as you approached the couches. Your boyfriend’s mop of brown hair remained the centre of your vision.

Jisung was deep in conversation with a boy beside him while Felix listened to them. Apart from them, a handful of other boys spread over the couches. The ones that didn’t fit, sat comfortable on chairs. Seeing Jisung in a sea of people he didn’t know, talking like it’s all he was born to do, you almost didn’t want to intrude.

“Bro! Babe Alert!”

The boy next to Jisung was the first to notice you approaching. It took a lot in you to push your amusement at his obliviousness down.

As Jisung’s head followed his friend’s gaze, he gasped out a loud “Yah!” before giving the boy next to him a slap against the bulky arm.

“Dude, that’s my girlfriend.”

“Oops.”

All eyes were on you as you waved at the group. You introduced yourself while sitting on the armrest beside your boyfriend. Yuqi joined your other side, and introduced herself before leaning against you.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Jisung confessed, hand coming to your thigh, squeezing it in adoration.

“You are?”

When you looked at Jisung, you noticed the guy beside him, eyes threatening to bulk out of their sockets. Staring at Yuqi, no less. After a few seconds, he realised he’d been caught and blushed. By pulling Felix into a conversation, he hoped to cover up his interest in your friend.

The girl in question was too deep in her interaction with one of the boys on the chairs to notice. He soon offered her half of his seat, which she accepted while discussing his choice of—footwear? She really seemed to know her way around the closet.

“Yes. Because someone didn’t believe you were real.” Jisung’s eyes darted towards a boy on the other couch whose blonde tresses were pulled into a loose ponytail. “What do you say now, Hyunjin? My hot girlfriend is real.”

“That’s how you describe me to people? Hot?” You didn’t know whether to be mad or flattered.

“Just so we’re clear,” the boy, Hyunjin, chimed in, “it wasn’t the hot part I didn’t believe. It was the whole concept of a girlfriend I was questioning. But you are real, apparently. So I owe Felix ten bucks.”

Laughing at Hyunjin’s cluelessness, your boyfriend couldn’t hide his amusement. “Felix already met her, stupid! You got pranked good, dude.”

Hyunjin’s jaw was on the floor at the new discovery, gaze dramatically cutting to the boy in question.

As the two of them exchanged money and ridicule, you caressed Jisung’s thigh in adoration. A sense of pride filled you at how he had somehow already found a way out of his shell. University seemed to have a positive impact on him, the first week progressing smoother than you had anticipated. Regardless of how he made so many friends this early on, you were glad he did.

“So, who are your friends?”

Gaze wandering through the circle, Jisung introduced the boys one after another. Starting from the one sitting next to Yuqi.

“That’s Seungmin. He’s an English major.”

The boy conversed with Yuqi as though they had known each other for years. He had puppy-brown hair, parted in the middle and cut even on all sides in a fashionable bowl-cut. Two strands of light-blonde framed his face, rounding off an otherwise innocent appearance. His clothes were simple, t-shirt and cargo pants hanging loose on his lean shape.

“Next to him is Jeongin. He’s studying to become—something biology. Honestly, I didn’t understand what he does. It’s all about mitochondria and other boring stuff.”

A little more on the shy side, Jeongin followed Seungmin and Yuqi’s dialogue instead of creating his own. Like Seungmin, he clothed casual. Standing out was his thick pink hair, which contrasted his initial timid demeanour. A something-biology student with pink hair? Very eye-catching.

“On the couch, that’s Hyunjin, Minho and Chris. Hyunjin is studying art history, and Minho majors in dancing. Chris is a Music major.”

Hyunjin, the one who got pranked out of ten bucks—by Felix, out of all people—was clad in a more fashionable outfit. His grey jeans he had paired with a white button-up, a multitude of jewellery decorating his fingers and neck. Minho wore his hair in a lavender tone, a tight-fitting shirt and black leather pants. Showing off his very toned legs—a dancer, indeed. And Chris. Well, he liked his arms the size of logs, apparently. They were an unexpected contrast to his cutesy laugh, nose scrunching up as he joked with Minho.

“And the boy who can’t keep his eyes off Yuqi, that’s Changbin. Sports major. If you tell him your weight, he will send you a video of him benching it.”

“Yah, I don’t do that for just anyone. Consider yourself lucky,” Changbin interjected. Thankfully, he had only overheard the second part of Jisung’s description.

Ignoring his friend’s words, Jisung concluded his introductory round. “And you already know Felix. He’s studying to become the best teacher in the whole wide world.”

Felix ignored the mocking tone in his friend’s voice, only one of the reasons rendering him perfect for a teaching position. He stood calm whenever needed, not a word taken out of proportion. That much you had already learned from hanging out with him a handful of times. It wasn’t hard to believe, he handled children the same way he did his drunk friends.

“I’m glad you have so many friends with majors now. Maybe, they can help you decide on yours.”

Rolling his eyes at the subject you somehow couldn’t let go, Jisung pulled you from the armrest onto his lap. A tiny yelp escaped your throat, his action surprising. The two of you usually didn’t exchange PDA like that. His advances, therefore, you understood as a sign of the amount of alcohol he had already consumed.

“You will never let this go, will you?”

“Not until I know you’re not just going to university because I’m going.”

You had been gifted with so much drive to go to uni, study, become a manager. Sometimes, you forgot that some people weren’t as lucky to know what they wanted to do with their lives. Your boyfriend was one of those people.

Sure Jisung had hobbies like singing, sports and the occasional guitar session. But other than that, he was pretty clueless about his future. The two of you used to joke about it. Kidding how all the ambition and focus had gone to his sister and once he was born, there was nothing left of it. An innocent joke for as long as it hadn’t been reality.

Now that you were here and for the months leading up to your move, the joke was underlined with more seriousness.

For the longest time, Jisung hadn’t been sure he even wanted to go to university. He had debated going to work right away. Learn something handy, like electric work or nursing. That he didn’t even know a direction to go in didn’t make the decision any easier. In the end, he figured that while you were studying to go into management, he might as well join you. If anything, it could potentially give him an overview of possible fields of work.

After many discussions about your joined future and his role in it, he seemed to be over it. He wanted to explore his options—that’s what he had told you when you two enrolled. And yes, you were proud of him for getting his grades up in the last year of High School. Even if only to share this adventure with you. Though you still needed him to be a little more serious about it. Otherwise, university was four years of him exploring, ending in no degree. Four years wasted, in your eyes.

“I just want to make sure you’re thinking about it.”

“Right now, the only thing I’m thinking about, is taking you to one of the empty bedrooms upstairs.”

His breath fanned over your neck as he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose all over your skin, his fingers gracing over your exposed hip. You hadn’t even noticed how your shirt had ridden up before his careful touch. Repositioning yourself to sit sideways on his lap, you bit your lip at his suggestion. Your hand came around his neck, fingers running through the hair at the back of it.

“We just got here,” you chuckled as his arms wrapped around your thighs.

“So?”

“Let’s enjoy the party for a bit, yeah?” Jisung knew a final decision when he heard one, a pout overtaking his face. Good thing you had already taken measures to soften the blow. Years of being with each other gave you the confidence to play your plan as you intended. “I might know a way to make the wait worth our while.”

You smirked as you retrieved a round object from your pocket and pushed it into Jisung’s hand on your thigh. A kiss to his cheek concealed your action, his eyes widening once he realised what you had handed him. A remote control. And not just any old remote control. Connecting the dots, Jisung soon understood that it controlled the matching vibrator inside you. The very same one you had bought for his most recent birthday.

Happy Birthday, indeed, and to both of you.

Judging from his expression, you figured your plan to make his patience worthwhile erected the awaited reaction. Then again, that could have also been him pocking you from below.

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[britcision]

I have not slept more than 5 hours together this whole fucking week and not more than 7 hours a day

It is therefore appropriate today to give you TIM! And TUCKER! All aboard the Lore Drop!

Chapter 14’s nearly fucking done I swear I was waylaid but I think I have solved the problem. Now the new second secret much bigger problem is my intense desire to commit Dragon Age crimes

Soooo chapters will probably stay a lil slower here for a bit, but hopefully not this slow again until June, when I will be Busy As Shit

————-

A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence V

It was a weird feeling to have his body shaken while his consciousness was so far from it.

Feeling his face pull into a frown not quite mirroring what he felt it should be. Tucker could never have explained precisely what part of him entered his devices; just that it was him.

Quintessential, pure essence of Too Fine. Everything he was without the meat he was born in.

But then he did have to slot back into that meat, and trying to do that without matching positions always left him feeling weirdly off kilter the next day. Like he’d put on a shirt but the shoulders were skewed too short.

So despite not being conscious of a face on his extended form, Tucker tried to form it into a frown anyway, sliding back under his own skin like a teen sneaking back through a window after curfew.

Hadn’t those been heady days?

Eyes slowly opening, it took Tucker a moment to remember how to focus them. That they weren’t cameras. But then Tim Drake-Wayne came into focus, and the frown changed to a grin even before he fully “woke up”.

“Morning,” he mumbled, rolling and stretching, getting used to the feeling of a body again. It was a little weirder each time, which he might have worried about if he didn’t see himself as an extension of his PDA anyway.

“You were singing in your sleep,” Tim told him without preamble, returning the smile.

Tucker hesitated for a moment, suddenly embarrassed. If… well. If he’d been singing along, that…

Look he’d picked songs that’d embarrass Danny, he wasn’t gonna give a fuck about it. The only actual question was, did he tell Tim?

Who else would ever understand better just what it meant to interact with tech the way he could? Could get excited with him about how cool it was?

He wasn’t fucking gushing to Technus. No way. Tuck was easily the one winning that ongoing hackathon, but it was the principle of the thing.

To the zone with it. Tim knew about Amity Park, he knew about the ghosts and the liminal tech. And while they hadn’t exactly discussed liminal people, it’d come up.

Tim could have a sneak preview. As a treat.

Decision made, Tucker gave the younger man another broad smile because yeah, bragging about your super powers to a very cool and impressive person? That felt good.

Tim might be a vigilante too, but Tucker was pretty sure Jason was the only souped up Robin. Most of the bats were famously power free.

“Oh, yeah. I was bullying Danny,” he explained with a light chuckle, glancing up to find his beloved PDA, Ida. She was half under a blanket now, so he tugged her back out.

Tim chuckled softly, leaning back and stretching himself.

“Good dream?” He asked and Tucker snickered, stroking gently across the screen.

“Danny wishes it was a dream.” Tucker paused, frowning a little at the confusion on Tim’s face. “So you remember we kinda talked about the whole liminal thing?”

That seemed to jog Tim’s memory, confusion fading into an analytical frown that Tucker was already becoming familiar with. That good ol’ geek face.

“The humans with budding ghost powers,” he agreed, and Tucker had to wonder if maybe he just hadn’t put the right pieces together yet.

He hadn’t exactly said that most of Amity Park were liminal, but it was a little hard to remember he had to. Like, they lived on a portal to Hell.

Maybe he shoulda.

Well, at least it was a cool way to introduce it to him.

Tucker pulled Ida into his lap, flipped her over, and tapped the plain plastic backing to demonstrate.

“Mine’s a low level technopathy at the moment,” he explained as the PDA hummed and then began playing… well, still Montero, so he flicked it again and changed it immediately to Country Roads.

Tim was watching him with a kind of hungry fascination, and Tucker turned the music off with a thought, then passed her to Tim so he could check for secret touchpads.

“It’s not something I can do with anything,” he explained with a modest shrug, grinning with pride as Tim immediately got to scanning the casing.

All simple plastic, not even biometrics; what would be the point? Even touching the PDA was pretty much a formality at this point. She was a part of him.

“Technopathy? So you can control it with your mind? Why not with anything?” Tim asked eagerly, hands stroking over the plastic, eyes darting between it and Tucker.

Like he wasn’t sure which was more interesting, Tuck or tech, and Tucker absolutely took that as a compliment.

“It has to be a device I’ve really gotten into. Like, down to the source code, or something I’ve cracked before a couple times, and then I can just feel how all of it works.”

Tucker wiggled his fingers demonstratively and the PDA beeped to life under Tim’s hands, making the other man gasp. And yeah, totally envy in those cute blue eyes he turned all balefully on Tucker.

“How many of the functions can you use? Anything the PDA can do, or…” Tim trailed off, clearly thinking of everything he’d already seen the PDA do.

The real question would have been what couldn’t Ida do. And honestly? Yeah, Tucker remembered the trial phase.

He gave another shrug.

“Technically? Yeah, anything it can do, but I still prefer hacking the old fashioned way. Most of the network stuff too, cuz I’m only really “in” the PDA. Or Danny or Sam’s phones.”

Tucker hesitated, wondering how best to really explain the difference. Danny had never been any good at it, Tucker’d had no idea what he was talking about from the video game thing right up until he’d been sucked in himself.

Which… was probably gonna be a next-hangout adventure for Tim and the bats. And Oracle, if he could swing it.

For now he gave up, giving Tim a hopeless grin.

“Honestly it’s something you’ve really gotta feel for yourself. Danny’s great at the transition from real world to code, but he always just punches things, y’know? Turns out knowing how code is actually supposed to work doesn’t translate well to being part of it,” he added with a sigh.

Because frankly? It was bullshit unfair. Tucker could code an entire other galaxy around Danny with his eyes closed, but put them in the same metaphysical layer as a firewall and Danny could just.

Punch it.

Which, theme for the week, was also not how firewalls fucking worked. At some point Tuck figured he’d either gain a new level of understanding through liminality, or give up and ask Technus a couple questions.

Technus was currently Tucker’s subject instead of Danny’s anyway. They’d made a bet.

Which meant Technus shoulda told him about their shenanigans in time, which was probably what Tucker would hold over his head for the whole firewall thing.

It was so nice when things just worked themselves out.

Tim looked a little disappointed, but mostly still intrigued. Tucker could see his fingers just itching for his own tablet to take notes.

“Do you think that’ll change?” He asked, blurting it out like he couldn’t hold back now that Tucker stopped talking, “I mean, if you become more liminal? Or just practice your abilities more?”

And see, this was what Tucker loved about Tim Drake-Wayne. They were on the same wavelength. He grinned back.

“Probably. But I mean, it’s kinda cheating too. For now I kinda like that I have to do things the way I always used to first, before any ghostly powers kick in. It’s more me, y’know?” And like hell he’d let anyone think his code skills were just some meta ability.

He’d worked damn hard for those skills, and he was damn good. One of the best, and he was also good enough to know he still wasn’t actually top of the charts.

That was the Oracle, although knowing they still hadn’t cracked his servers felt really good.

Tim was all but vibrating, clearly full of questions, but they were both interrupted by a loud growl from Tucker’s stomach. Immediately echoed by Tim’s, so at least he wasn’t alone.

The two shared sheepish grins, and then Tucker stretched.

“So, breakfast and then Twenty Questions?” He offered cheerfully, and Tim nodded at once, thrusting the PDA back and rolling off the frankly massive bed.

——————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night she made her first friend

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: fluff

summary: Val makes an unexpected friend. (The boys don't really make an appearance until the end for this one, I just wanted to write about Val having a friend <3)

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection of imagines that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. Val is around the age of 14.

Valeria had never ventured into the center of the Windhaven camp on her own. She was always accompanied by Rhysand or her mother and as she made her way to the small shops in the camp’s center, she felt the Illyrian’s eyes on her. Some eyes were curious, some wary and some were hostile.

Her title as daughter of the Night Court’s High Lord meant little to the people here. The only value it held was that she was untouchable and this spited many, especially the older Illyrian males. They itched for the opportunity to clip her wings as a means to dwindle her free-spirited nature. She had done her best to tread carefully along their rigid boundaries but it was not enough.

It would never be enough.

She pushed open the creak door of a small shop, a bell tinkling merrily to announce her arrival. With the arrival of snowfall, her mother was drowning in her seamstress work and had sent Valeria to buy more supplies. Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel were still in training. Otherwise, she would have begged her mother to send them instead.

The shop was cozy, adorned with all things winter such as fabrics, coats, boots. Valeria was quick to find the supplies her mother requested when her gaze landed on the wall behind the counter. Ice skates of various sizes dangled from the walls.

“Would you like to buy a pair?” A voice asked.

Valeria turned to the voice, surprised to find a girl behind the counter. She had dark, long straight hair and beautiful brown eyes with freckles dusting over her nose and cheeks. She appeared around Valeria’s age. Perhaps, a bit older. What struck out the most to her were her striking wings that remained untouched.

“I don’t know how to skate.” Valeria replied sheepishly as she set down her items for the girl to price.

“It’s fun.” The girl stated, placing Valeria’s items into a paper bag. “A lot of girls here partake in ice skating when they have the free time. They claim the feeling of gliding across the ice is similar to that of flying.”

Valeria’s heart sank at the deeper meaning behind her words. Sensing the shift in mood, the illyrian girl offered her a smile. “I can teach you, if you’d like.”

“I don’t have the money.”

“I would love to gift them to you but my father would strangle me if he found out I was giving merchandise out for free. But I can add it to your mother’s tab?”

Valeria nodded, knowing her mother would not mind. “You know who my mother is? I haven’t even said my name.”

It was foolish of her to say. Everyone knew who she was.

The Illyrian girl smiled. “You’re Valeria. Everyone talks about you.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard nothing but good things.” Val replied with sarcasm in her tone.

She was not aware the people spoke of her but she could not say she was surprised, especially not with those unsettling watchful eyes of theirs. She could only imagine the things they’d say about her. Surely, they weren’t good.  

“I don’t base my opinions on others based on untasteful gossip.”

Valeria watched as the girl reached for a pair of skates in her size. She placed them gently onto the counter, ushering them toward her. “I’m Mallory, by the way.”

Valeria smiled, taking the skates into her arms. “When can we start?”

**

As promised, Mallory met Valeria at the frozen lake the next day. Since it was still early on in the afternoon, it was just the two of them. Conversation flowed effortlessly between them as they approached the edge of the lake.

With skates strapped securely to their feet, Mallory glided gracefully onto the frozen lake, the ice smooth and inviting. Valeria remained at the edge. She took a deep breath and stepped onto the ice, her skates feeling wobbly and unfamiliar.

“That’s it,” Mallory encouraged as she glided toward Valeria. Her movements were smooth, making it look effortless.

Valeria attempted to move forward but her legs wobbled and she found herself struggling to find her balance. Her legs slipped out from under her and she let out a yelp as she fell on her butt, landing on the cold ice with a thud.

“Are you okay?” Mallory asked in concern, extending her hand out to Val.

“Just a bruised ego,” Val replied with a laugh, taking Mallory’s hand.

She slowly got back up, her knees shaking slightly. She took another deep breath. Her second attempt at gliding went better with Mallory’s guidance.

“You got it,” Mallory grinned at her as she let go of Valeria’s hand to allow her to skate on her own.

Valeria grinned back as she eventually got the hang of it. The two girls laughed as they skated, the wind carrying their joyous voices across the icy expanse. As they glided across the ice, they extended their wings, granting them better balance as they spun around the lake.

“I now understand what you meant yesterday. Skating is similar to flying.”

Mallory nodded as they both skated to the edge of the lake, agreeing that it was time for a break. “I never want to lose the ability to do either.”

Sensing Valeria’s curiosity, Mallory sat on the snow and patted the space beside her. “It’s cruel how we’re just expected to conform to their expectations. It’s simply a means to keep a false sense of control. Because without us, there would be no more Illyrian babies.”

“I’ve already bled.” Mallory answered the question Valeria couldn’t bring herself to ask. “My father generously gave me an option. To clip my wings and live or to die fighting.”

“He thought I would submit and willingly chose to clip my wings.” Mallory shook her head at the memory. “I chose to die fighting. Who knows when that fight will come but I will face it. Because even as I face death, at least I will still be me.”

Valeria found herself at a loss for words, her heart aching at the cruel reality all Illyrian females faced. So she reached out for Mallory's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She promised to herself that she would do what she could to help her new friend.

The two remained near the lake for hours, talking about many things as if they had been friends for years. Later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Valeria invited Mallory to her home for dinner. Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel were already seated at the dining table.

“I brought a friend.” Valeria announced as Mallory walked in behind her.

“A friend?” Azriel’s head perked up in surprise.

“She probably means Darla.” Rhysand chuckled.

“You still play with dolls?” Cassian asked in amusement but his eyes widened as they landed on something–rather someone–behind Valeria.

Lady Yvaine smacked the three of them with the wooden spoon in her hand, drawing dramatic cries from them. “It’s nice to meet a friend of Val’s. Please, have a seat.”

Valeria sent her mother a grateful smile, sending the guys all a vulgar gesture, which made Mallory laugh. “This is my idiotic brother, Rhysand. That’s Azriel and that’s Cassian,” she reluctantly introduced them.

“I’m Mallory.”

“Mallory,” Cassian repeated, a boyish grin on his face as he extended a hand. “What a beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

Azriel choked on his water at Cassian’s shameless flirting. Valeria kicked Cassian from under the table but he was unfazed. Even as Mallory rejected his handshake, Cassian did not seem deterred.

“Thanks,” Mallory replied with a coy smile. “I was named after the woman my father cheated on my mother with.”

Panicked silence filled the room, even Lady Yvaine paused in concern. A couple of moments passed before the silence was interrupted by Mallory’s laughter. “I’m kidding,” she said. “I was named after my grandmother.”

“I like her.” Rhysand commented, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“I liked her first!”

“Fuck off! She’s my friend!” Valeria exclaimed at them, earning a glare from her mother at the use of a vulgar word. She grabbed a piece of bread and threw it at Cassian, aiming for his head. Much to her disappointment, Cassian moved his head and caught the bread in his mouth with ease.

“Don’t worry, Val. I am not swayed so easily,” Mallory reassured her friend.

Cassian’s eyes lit up at the challenge.

The rest of dinner continued in light conversation, led by Lady Yvaine, who was curious to learn more about Valeria’s new friend. It delighted her to see her daughter smile and be happy. For so long, Valeria had longed for a companion outside of her family. Sure, there was Cassian and Azriel but they had formed a special bond with Rhysand. 

Having Mallory in her life was a breath of fresh air for Valeria, a friend to confide in and share moments of laughter with.

**

Tag list: @justrepostandlove @kemillyfreitas

[donniesbabygirl28]

hii i love your work 💗💗, could you do sort of like a forbidden love thing with fem reader x dallas winston where she’s a soc so they aren’t supposed to be together but he would do anything for her and do anything to be with her

Awwww 🤭🧸dally is so cute

Dallas Winston x soc! Reader

It was quite a surprise when Dallas took a liking to you

But at the same time

Some people say they saw it coming

You and Dallas were bound to fall in love

You definitely weren’t like any soc he has met before

“Hey..”

Him asking about you was the icing on the cake

“How do y’all feel about that y/n girl?..”

He definitely trails off any time he talks about you

The boys were astonished

“You ain’t diggin this girl are ya, dally?”

He definitely tried to deny it

“Hell no. Why would I? Girls have cooties.. 😒”

Hell, sometimes he couldn’t even decide how he felt

But when you smiled at him at the corner store

Not a mocking smile

But a sweet, innocent and soft smile

It really set him off

You were allowed on greaser territory

Nobody else

Just you

Because you weren’t like everybody else

And boy was he head over heals

Of course he’s gonna say he ain’t

“You fallin for this girl? She’s a soc for Pete’s sake!”

“Nah, man. “

Yes he was

He was fallin hard

Of course he made a move

Like askin you out for a coke

Or whatever you like

If you say no

He won’t stop until he gets a yes

Of course if you say no about 50 times

His ego will be bruised but

He’ll bounce back eventually

But he’ll definitely be upset you know

If you say yes (which you did) this boy is down bad for you fr fr 🤭🧸

“Hey, doll.”

You would look at him and it made him feel some type of way

Fast forward to when you two are dating

This boy sneaks around the gang just so he can talk to you about anything

He misses you all the time

“Ay, where’s ol’ dally?” Two-Bit asked

Johnny almost said something

But he knew Dallas would kill him if he said anything.

“I don’t know.” Johnny said lowly

CUDDLES! CUDDLES! CUDDLES!

Please let this boy have his hands around your waist.

Please let him kiss your cheek.

This man WILL look you in the eyes and say that he don’t wanna cuddle and that he doesn’t like ‘em

Just wait in 3..2..1..

His hands are all over you.

He just can’t help it.

When he’s around you, he wants to make sure you think he’s tuff.

Of course you think he’s tuff.

“Dally…you’re the most tuffest guy I know. You don’t have to show off.”

His heart melts.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let this man have his hand on your thigh while driving.

Let’s talk about work.

It doesn’t matter WHERE, WHAT, HOW, WHEN, OR WHO.

He’s gonna be there to take care of you.

Let’s just say you work at a diner.

First of all.

Your outfit is absolutely gorgeous on you.

According to Dallas.

“Aw! Babe, you look gorgeous.”(yes you do, babes!)

WITH HIS HANDS AROUND YOUR WAIST!

Doll, I can’t even say how much he loves you.

He will stay at the counter all night if he has to.

Just to help you out and keep you company.

Joking around is a must with Dally.

When your not looking, he will throw a small ball of napkin at you.

Which does stick to your hair.

Everyone can see how much in love you two are.

The elderly couple that sit in the back booth every Saturday.

The group of other teenagers that sit at the counter.

Lindsy, the girl who orders coffee from you and won’t take it from anybody else.

Mia, The little girl that gives you gum in return for a toy that comes with the kids meals.

You always put two toys in there for her. 🤫

The same three boys around the age of 14-15 that harass you while you work.

On several occasions, they made you cry.

“Aww. Is the soc gonna cry?”

You were on the verge of providing a waterfall .

They just wanted to bother you.

“Look please leave me alone.”

“Please leave me alone!!!” The boy in front mocked as he sat down.

They just laughed.

“She’s trembling!”

“Hey, young man. That’s no way to talk to such a sweet girl. You outta be ashamed of yourselves.” The elderly woman said, walking hand in hand with her husband.

“Get lost old fart.”

“How DARE you! She’s is just a sweet old lady! I’m so sorry mrs stevens. Your next Saturday meal is on me.” You said on the verge of tears as Mrs stevens reassured you it was alright.

Dallas was pissed.

He grabbed him by the collar.

“Who do you think you are? Talking to my girl like that. Has anybody ever taught you how to treat a woman?”

“If I EVER, see your face in this diner EVER again. I swear on my life I will fucking kill you. You think you’re hot shit? Huh? Say it.”

“I’m not.” He said, utterly terrified.

He shoved him to the ground.

Once the boys left you broke down into tears, picking up the food from the ground.

It broke Dally’s heart to see you in so much sadness.

He crouched down next to you, giving you a giant hug.

“I’m so, so proud of you, doll. You did amazing. You’re so strong.”

“Thanks dally, you’re real tuff.” You said, hugging him

You finished picking up the food and closed the diner up.

You and Dallas walked hand in hand down the street.

Now.

How about the gang found out.

Oh lord.

They would catch on when they saw lipstick marks on Dally’s cheek and he would smell straight up like a bottle of woman’s perfume.

Which smelled hella good.

“Dally? Who you been kissin on?” Two-Bit asked genuinely curious.

“Nobody, man.”

Johnny just kept his mouth shut. Like the good friend he is.

Two-bit showed him a mirror to show him all the kiss marks that you left behind.

Everyone else was concerned

But Dallas loved them.

He wish he could take a mental screenshot of this and save it forever.

Darry tried to wipe it off.

You know how moms lick their thumb and then rub it on you?

That. That’s Darry right there.

“No! Leave it!” Dally yelled quickly.

Sooner or later he was gonna have to come clean.

“Tell us the truth, Dally.”

He sighed.

“It’s y/n.”

Everyone was shocked but honestly they didn’t really care.

“And I love her and if you guys can’t accept my wishes then I don’t need to be close with y’all. We’re all buddies and I do love y’all but I love her too and I would do anything and everything for her.”

“Dallas shut up. We don’t give a fuck. To everybody else? They might care. But as your friends and all that, we don’t care. As long as your happy.” Darry said

He was so happy.

Let’s get back to the kiss marks.

Dallas loves them.

He thinks they are sweet.

He gets giddy anytime you leave a kiss mark behind.

He also, for some reason, thinks they make him look tuff.

He definitely has a few Polaroid photos of you and him.

Him laying in your bed with you kissing his cheek, leaving pink kiss marks.

He has pictures of those too.

At this point he just wanted them everywhere.

The smell of your perfume was intoxicating to him.

He felt like he was on cloud 9.

“You smell good.”

You would blush.

He definitely stays over most of the time.

Mostly because he misses you and can’t go even a few hours without you!?

Yes.

And let’s not forget that this guy.

Is Lana Del Ray coded everywhere.

I don’t wanna hear it.

I know Lana Del Ray wasn’t a thing back then.

But ima make a few changes.

If you had Lana Del Ray vinyls, cassette tapes, posters, anything.

He would definitely listen to her with you.

And IF he said he didn’t like her at first.

She will definitely start growing on him.

But if the first time you introduced him to her

And he liked it from the beginning.

He might be a bigger fan than you.

And for my girlies that love Aerosmith like me.

This guy would definitely like Aerosmith as well.

Like.

Sweet Emotion is a makeout song.

And he likes Walk this way, crazy, Janie’s got a gun, jaded, dream on, back in the saddle, rag doll, Angel and much more.

He loves to makeout.

Please.

Of course he won’t pressure you.

If he’s feeling like making out

He would kiss your neck

And if your not feeling it just say it.

“Hey, dal. I’m not really feeling it right now.”

“Oh alright. Sorry, doll.”

He would kiss your cheek and just lay with you.

But if you are feeling it.

Shit, go right ahead.

He would have smeared lipstick all over his swollen lips.

It’s definitely a pretty sight.

He loves you.

Don’t let him go.

Because as long as you hold on he will do the same.

He believes that you two found each other for a reason.

You two are meant to be.

[shannendoherty-fans]

The Independent (UK) – Opinion

Shannen Doherty was irresistible, underrated, and permanently shackled to misogynistic speculation

The ‘Beverly Hills, 90210’ star, who has died of cancer, played women too interesting to be simplistically boxed in – and spent a large part of her career waiting for the respect she deserved, writes Adam White

Sunday 14 July 2024

Shannen Doherty, who has died at the age of 53 following years of living with cancer, was an actor famous for playing women to whom respect wasn’t immediately granted.

Her Nineties TV hits Beverly Hills, 90210 and Charmed – shows embraced by generations of young people growing up both then and now – cast her as characters who, to the unenlightened, could be read as bitches or mean girls, those annoying descriptors always levelled at women too complicated and interesting to be simplistically boxed in. But as a skilled if often underrated actor, she was deft at conveying pride and regret beneath the surface grumpiness; the feeling of women only being a certain way because the world has made them so.

Doherty was also one of the OG tabloid fixtures, a child star gone berserk (not really) whose club-hopping and on-set lateness apparently warranted round-the-clock coverage at the top of the Nineties. She experienced the kind of wrath that could only have existed back then – regular headlines in the National Enquirer that weren’t ignored at the supermarket checkout line but actually had an impact on her career; a popular newsletter for pre-internet teens who could come together every month to talk about how much they hated Doherty and Brenda Walsh, the mouthy teen she played in 90210.

She has since admitted to being incredibly hurt by all of this – it contributed to her firing from 90210 in 1994 – but it did at least add to the lore that surrounded her. Doherty was sharp and icy and a tiny bit dangerous – all the things despised by the boring among us, and oddly irresistible to those who secretly wanted to be like that themselves.

Doherty was also incredibly glamorous, stomping around with the force of a supermodel and with black hair so shiny that you can imagine millions of women over the decades bouncing between box dyes trying to emulate it just right. I adored watching her on screen, the sense that she was always just on the cusp of slapping someone – as part of a clique of cruel teens in the Winona Ryder classic Heathers, say, or as the pissed-off girlfriend in Kevin Smith’s Mallrats. She was brilliant in Charmed, as the eldest of a trio of sister witches, who understood the weight of her duty to protect the innocent. Prue Halliwell was cool, responsible, complex and always inappropriately dressed for battle, but pfft – who says you can’t kill a demon in a belly shirt and a miniskirt?

I loved how much Doherty gave to incredibly bad made-for-television movies, too. Friends ’Til the End, in 1997, saw her play an aspiring musician being stalked by her best friend (the tracks sound like Cranberries knock-offs and Doherty’s voice has an air of Susanna Hoffs of the Bangles). Satan’s School for Girls (2000) cast her as an undercover reporter investigating evil witches on a university campus. Blindfold: Acts of Obsession, from 1994, is the kind of erotic thriller so devoid of eroticism that it becomes almost hypnotic. But Doherty is good in all of them, always magnetic and spirited and salvaging whatever she can from dismal scripts.

From 2023, Doherty hosted her own podcast – Let’s Be Clear – a kind of audio autobiography that covered her work, her personal life and her health. Tales of her cancer journey – she was diagnosed in 2015 with breast cancer, which went into remission and then returned, latterly spreading to her brain and bones – were sobering and moving. Doherty was reluctant to pretty up what had been a life-affirming if undeniably painful time. But the most fascinating episodes were ones in which she conversed with Hollywood women equally hurt by an industry that has only ever celebrated female compliance, and only begrudgingly given positive attention to those who march to the beat of their own drum.

She had a natural kinship with the likes of Sarah Michelle Gellar, Katherine Heigl, Tori Spelling and Christina Ricci, all of whom appeared on her show. Like Doherty, they are actors who arrived in Hollywood as children, grew up in the spotlight, and found themselves permanently shackled to misogynist speculation about their character: they were too difficult, too unpredictable, too eager to have a voice on chaotic sets.

Doherty never claimed total innocence; she was happy to admit to sometimes reading the room wrong, or getting defensive rather than looking for a compromise during arguments. But her cancer also provided her with a sense of clarity about her past – the things she should apologise for, and the things she absolutely shouldn’t. She put to bed years of speculation about what had happened on the set of Charmed – she was fired after significant on-set tensions with her co-star Alyssa Milano, a feud inflamed by male producers – and spoke eloquently about the relationships she regretted and the domestic violence she experienced while working on 90210.

It was often quite beautiful – here was a woman who knew she was dying, but wouldn’t go quietly or with unfinished business. She was funny, sassy, a little intimidating. It was Doherty to a tee. What fool would expect any different?

[runningfrom2am]

leave it to me to make a 18-point commentary on a 2.8k oneshot 🤭

10. "Yes, well... we have never been well liked." i really like how this comes out as if she really has spent time thinking about where they went wrong and trying to rationalise it. also i don’t if it was intentional on your part but this adds to her not getting over being retired as the head gamemaker because of people.

11. it feels like they weren’t allowed to be together, until her last night, following the days of coin’s takeover, she is looking out to her garden but at the same time, to her husband. also she is given the chance of staying in her bedroom but he is down with the roses and the raspberries.

12. her pride and the fact that what sejanus is asking of her is an act of betrayal by her definition are the greatest obstacles that stand in the way of her survival but as the one who believed in and actively tried to observe “humanity unmasked” she knew taking the offer was the only way for her to go.

13. her realising that she is alive by luck and past impressions, just like sejanus, must’ve been chilling because not only it breaks the illusion of power she had at the time, but while sejanus was spared, she was left alone and those two are very different.

14. “Were you really any better than him?” i want to believe you didn’t tell him that you had killed and buried sejanus so thanks to the power of important details, you are, in this sense.

15. i hope nothing bad happened to their kids but at the same time it doesn’t seem likely for them to not have partaken in the games at all, considering the ages. maybe they didn’t get executed thanks to the mockingjay.

16. HER FINAL SALUTE!!!

17. the fact that coin probably let her go by the condition of carrying her plan of hurting snow is very in character, he couldn’t have known about the celebration beforehand.

18. he mourned the death of his love twice and at both, she was alive even if meant to be dead. her “deaths” could be traced back to him by a very thin line, in his knowledge but her real tragedies were having to leave everything she has known behind.

NO BC AS YOU SHOULD AND I AM EATING IT UP i love talking ab this so pls do haha

10. okay yes and that was NOT intentional but i do love that it makes sense. in hindsight you’re totally right (not us just talking ab things that are canon to this that just aren’t in the fic hahah)

11. absolutely coin demanded they be separated immediately. bc SO MUCH of their power was power they shared- they did it all together, so separating them (and no doubt publicizing this somehow) is the first signal to the rebellion and the districts that it really was over, they won. even though few people know this, it is a massive accomplishment on their behalf to even be able to separate them bc of their history of what they have done just to stay together. including but not limited to: coryo risking r’s life for the chance that she would be sent away with him, killing mayfair, sending the recording of sejanus (bc if he left he would leave them to be executed “just for knowing him” and also he would be putting a SPOTLIGHT on where r had been hiding), and even allegedly killing lucy gray. (and by few people who know this, i mean sejanus and lucy gray who no doubt shared these stories to some in 13.)

12. she tried to fight it, but deep down she knew she couldn’t really say no. her “conditions” were a final act of power that she could really have, to convince herself this was a smart decision. yes she was betraying her husband, but she made sejanus promise that their granddaughter would not be harmed. maybe she even negotiated to get custody of her while she is in hiding. so it was a betrayal, BUT she had several reasons.

13. YES and same thing i mentioned on the last one about her conditions applies here.

14. oh absolutely she is nowhere near as guilty as him, but that’s hard for her to believe because of how extremely highly she regards him even then. she almost wanted to find more blame to place on herself so they were still level.

15. we can hope not, but like you said considering the ages, i think they have done some unforgivable things too. i think r and coryo know that as well.

16. i cried while writing it bc ✋ shut up it’s so sad

17. oh for sure. but ALSO can we consider the possibility that she didn’t even know? bc what we do know is that many of her higher ups knew that she wasn’t much better than the previous presidential couple. when katniss shoots her, plutarch is smiling bc that’s what needed to happen and he knew it. i think sejanus and lucy gray didn’t like her either, so it’s entirely possible that they hoped this is what katniss would do, maybe she even told lucy gray that that was her plan. it’s not too far fetched to guess that sejanus could organize this without coin’s knowledge. coin would love the idea of hurting the president by having an over the top celebration about his wife’s murder, but would that be worth letting her live? maybe not. idk just something to think about haha

18. I KNOWWW IM SO SAD FOR HIM TOO. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. she’ll be grappling with that decision for a long time knowing that AGAIN he is grieving her death, but this time he will never find out that she is still alive.

[444m777]

29 things I love about Michael: Day 14

This one might be a little weird to say but I was 11 years old when I found out Michael struggled with severe acne. Eleven being the age where it exploded and it became severe and I struggled with being teased and having all kinds of adults/family giving their unsolicited advice on what to do. It was a time where my mom told me she cried whenever she thought back to when I like 7 before my acne took over my face. My grandmother cried with tears running down her face. I went to visit her in Sint Martin as a surprise and she saw me and saw my face and wept! She said in tears how am I supposed to find a man with my face looking the way it did. YIKES! I was a child… very fucked up but yeah… it made me dislike mirrors/seeing my reflection BUT it was when Michael revealed he too had severe acne and the very wrong and unwarranted things people said to him made me feel like he was talking TO me.

Two things were going through my mind. Actually three things. First I was watching Living with Michael Jackson and I watched it secretly because my mom banned me from watching or speaking about Michael because she felt I was too obsessed blah blah… so I had to be on the look out (luckily the car they had at the time made a loud pitch so I could hear them coming). I kept running back and forth to the tv screen and the porch to make sure they weren’t outside. Second, THE Michael Jackson had acne!? But he’s perfect!? Is this some kind of joke? But I believed him immediately. My kid brain was just shocked! Not that he had acne but the fact that he got treated so badly for something he couldn’t help. Like, when he recounted someone asking for him and then they saw him and went “ewwww, what happened?”. I was almost in tears. Tears of sadness because I could relate to the hurt he felt because I was living it. I basically was like even Michael went through such a traumatic experience. I’m older now so idk how the public reaction to acne is nowadays. It’s certainly not blown out of proportion the way it was in my days and I’m sure also in his days. People can be terribly mean spirited and growing up with severe acne it was like I was given a death sentence. I was no longer a person. I was just a walking talking cluster of pustules.

“You were so cute when you were younger”. Uhm… I’m 11 I’m still young and still very much cute! But I never had the heart to say how I felt. I just kept it all in but boy did I cry myself to sleep because of it. But that night is what lead me to the third thing… I felt seen. And not just by someone who also had acne but I felt seen by THE Michael Jackson. There was a switch that night especially after that whole moment. I could say with honesty that that part of the documentary (even though Martin B. was a rat and an opportunist) it changed something in my brain. I no longer felt sorry for myself. Like I didn’t feel cursed. I was the only one in my family that had severe acne. My big sister had her acne moment and it hit her like a brick but it hit me like a WRECKING BALL! So it just made everyone focus on the fact that I looked “unclean”. Ugh the information regarding acne and the things people would say… my god! I know with the increase in interest for skincare, it’s changed but the damage had already been done. But Michael was a little salve of hope that maybe this is something I can “get over” and that it’s also not the end of the world. He didn’t stop. He didn’t crumble. It was tough and hurtful, but he knew he was more than just his skin condition. He got through it. And I held on to that for years. I still think about it often.

The power of media/media representation is so interesting and important that it has become a buzzword and is still gravely overlooked. To be a Black kid with acne being told you won’t find a man (at an age where you shouldn’t be worrying or thinking about being an eligible partner to somebody), being told that you were once beautiful and that that time has passed because you clearly aren’t beautiful anymore, receiving all kinds of “medical” advice that amounted to nothing, to watch your own mother be frustrated that you did everything in your power NOT to let it bother you because in her eyes it meant you did not care for your skin and situation… I just didn’t want to make it a big deal. I was a child but I understood very quickly that it was puberty/hormones. But my mom and everyone else turned it into a curse. My life was over at the age of 11. And Michael came in like “yeah it sucks but you’re going to be okay baby girl”. That was all I needed. He didn’t say it like that but that’s how I took it. I was forever changed. I stopped worrying so much about what everyone was saying. It hurt but the sting didn’t linger. I remember telling my mom about finding out Michael had severe acne too and she dismissed it🙃 My relationship with her now is MUCH better by the way. But back then… YIKES! 🥴

Anyways, I love that Michael gave me strength in such a terribly edited and purposely damning documentary. The pictures I’ve looked up years later of him with acne made me feel like I wasn’t alone. It’s so easy to feel isolated. To feel like you’re the ONLY ONE going through something shitty. I sometimes see those same pictures edited with a blur. And I get it, he would’ve scrubbed the world of those pictures if he could but I really like them. It shows and reminds me that we’re all human. I don’t see his scars/acne. I saw a lovely kid full of life. That is what I wanted people to see in me and not constantly point out my acne. I could go on and on but you get the point. We’re all going through some version of the same things but we’re more than our physical bodies and their conditions. Michael made me feel less ugly and more like myself at that age. So, thank you Michael for literally making me feel like I’m not gross at the age of 11 and that I wasn’t the only one who had acne the way I had it.

It’s Michael’s birthday month and so I’m sharing every day something I love about him. Feel free to join in or use the tag #29thingsMJ I’d love to read what you love about him

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Tis the Damn Season

Day 14: Upset

AO3

Christmas Eve at the Anderson house used to be a quiet affair. Just the four of them eating dinner, fighting over which Christmas movie to watch, and getting to open one present before bed. Since Blaine turned 16, things shifted. Pam and William Anderson threw huge blow-out holiday parties. Family, friends, old classmates, everyone was invited.

Blaine had asked Kurt to come but Kurt’s family still celebrated a quiet night in. Kurt wasn’t too sure he’d be able to make an appearance. And Blaine tried to enjoy the festivities, his old Dalton friends didn’t seem to find anything amiss but Cooper could tell Blaine was upset.

“Hey, try not to look so down when mom comes around,” Cooper suggested, “you know how she gets.”

Blaine understood. His mother would stop the whole party and question her son’s mood. He wanted anything other than attention tonight.

“Sorry, it’s just…”

“Kurt, I know.” Cooper patted him on the shoulder and steered them into the kitchen. “Try to have some fun.”

Cooper poured himself more eggnog and grabbed a glass for Blaine.

“Drinking? Really?”

Cooper just glared at him.

“Oh c’mon Blainey, if I was trying to get you drunk it wouldn't be with eggnog, this kind is non-alcoholic anyway.”

An hour later found Blaine sitting around the fireplace with his Dalton buddies. They were in the midst and recounting yet another Sectionals where Blaine’s solo was the tipping point to a Warbler win or so they claimed.

“And then the spotlight BAM!” Matt said

“There’s Blaine Anderson center stage…” Wes continues.

Blaine finds it easy to get lost here. In the memories with his high school best friends. He remembers how good it feels to be wanted, to be included. This is special. He wonders if the other Warblers know just how special it is.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Blaine knows that voice. It snaps him right out of his head.

Kurt made it.

“You’re here, I thought…” Blaine trails off.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d make it but my dad practically kicked me out of the house. He thinks I don’t get out enough with people my age.”

Blaine smiled. “My parents are the same way.”

The Warblers murmured in agreement.

Which is when Blaine remembers he’s not alone with Kurt.

“Oh geez, guys this is Kurt. We go to school together.”

“Kurt, these are the Warblers. Well, former Warblers.”

“No way! You did glee, me too!”

“Oh no, don’t tell us you’re from McKinley,” Wes said.

“And what if I am,” Kurt said, crossing his arms.

“You kicked our butts sophomore year,” Matt replied.

“Well, my freshman,” Blaine reminded them.

Kurt gets this faraway look on his face as if he’s trying to remember that competition.

“Noooo, you weren’t the lead singer, were you?” Kurt asked.

Blaine nods, a little nervous as to where this is heading.

“I had the biggest crush on you but definitely too scared to have done anything about it.”

For a second, Blaine thinks he may faint.

The Warblers and “oooo-ing” and “aw-ing” like fireworks are going off in the room and not just inside Blaine’s stomach.

“Well, now you have to sit and tell us everything, Kurt,” Wes instructed, patting the open spot beside him.

“And I’ll pour the eggnog,” Nick said.

[hexarcana]

hc + 💔 for a headcanon about a sad experience (dealers choice for character/verse)

I’ve been cooking some stuff about Canon Bobby so I’ll share what he considered to be one of the worst moments of his entire life ❤️

So Bobby grew up without a dad. This was never that big of a deal to him as a little boy, he had his theories and his questions but he never really felt like he was MISSING anything. But one thing bothered him immensely, and that was that any mention or his father made his mom nervous or uncomfortable. As a little kid he ever really understood why but as he got a bit older he picked up on some details his mom shared with the very few other people in their lives, and he reached the conclusion around the age of 14 or 15 that whatever cool version of his biological father he’d made up in his head wasn’t real, and the real person responsible for him being born was a bad person. This is a gross ugly feeling Bobby has carried with him ever since then, but the worst reminder of this happened when he was sixteen.

Bobby is blind so he doesn’t know what he looks like but he does know that he doesn’t look like his mother, based on soooo many comments he’s heard over the years. He never paid it that much mind until this one day, he invited the girl he was dating at the time over to his place while his mom was out. This was not allowed, but Bobby was 16 with his first ever girlfriend, when she suggested coming over to ~hang out~ when his mom wasn’t around he jumped at the chance. Aggie came home early and caught Bobby with this girl (they weren’t doing anything major. She was upset at having a stranger in the house and admittedly she reacted kinda badly. While the girl was leaving, she and Bobby got into an argument. The first real argument they’d ever gotten into. Bobby was embarrassed and again, he was sixteen so his feelings were pretty big. Once his girls friend was gone, he yelled at her.

About two minutes into the actual heated argument he stopped because he realized his mom was crying, and she wasn’t really arguing back as he yelled. A horrible thought occurred to him: In that moment, his mom was afraid of him. At 16 Bobby was a big kid, almost 6 feet tall and bulky, he wore his hair long and had the stubbly start of facial hair. All the comments about how he must “take after his dad” came rushing through his head and it took the wind out of his sails immediately. He apologized profusely to his mom (Who mind you was simultaneously beating herself for feeling afraid of her gentle and good son based on visuals alone) and then basically hid from her for a few days. Ever since then he’s tried extremely hard to not get angry around her, or around ANYONE really. He bottles his negative emotions up tight so they don’t hurt anyone or scare anyone thinks they had his mom. Mm

This emotion bottling gets way harder to do after the divorce, and really someone oughta address it before he gives himself an aneurysm trying to keep the anger inside.

Thankfully he has good relationships with the people in his family and this incident never repeated itself…. but it still haunts him. Did his mom think he was going to hurt her? He never could do that. Right…..?

[theerrorofmylife]

Witch Queen Ch.3

Thorin x Witch!Reader 

See Masterlist for chapter listings and descriptions as well as other fics and series I have in progress, requests are always welcomed and let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list :) 

Hahaaaaaa I really like this chapter, its just so.... gah. Cuteness, Thorin and the reader lowkey acting like a couple already, and trolls. What a lovely concoction; please enjoy ~ Error

Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, PTSD, Thorin being a simp for the reader, soul-crushing cuteness, Gandalf being a little shit, injuries, mentions of nausea and broken bones, etc etc

That night there was singing. The dwarves had gathered by the hearth, each staring hauntingly into the fire. They sing of that day, when Smaug came and destroyed Dale, when he destroyed the mountain… that day… The more time that passed since then, the more I remembered. In dreams I saw things more clearly, I saw what really happened. I saw the fire, buildings falling all around me, bodies piled in the streets… Nightmares were a recurring problem, and I knew some small things that helped, but they never really went away. Over time it just got… easier. It was better to rationalize that everything I saw was in the past, that it couldn’t hurt me, that it was all over. But it never really was over. It’s never over when Smaug is still alive.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I woke with someone’s hands lightly patting my arm. I had to blink several times to clear the blurry haze of dreams from my eyes, but when I was finally able to focus, I looked up to see Thorin. He gave me such a soft, sad smile before telling me they were getting ready to leave. Nodding blearily, I began mentally preparing to leave when I noticed daylight had only barely glinted through the windows.

Navigating through the small space full of dwarves, I made my way back to my stuff tucked away in a corner. As I situated my bag on my back, tucking my satchel to my side, I noticed that Bilbo was missing from within the mix.

“Thorin…” whispering, not to draw too much attention or disturb anyone, I held my hand out to motion him towards me. “Is he not coming with us?” Thorin sighed heavily, his eyes closing.

“No, I do not believe so. We are down to 14 members.” I sighed. Our odds weren’t great, even with Bilbo. But at least we had the element of surprise because he didn’t smell like a dwarf. Now,

we have nothing, nothing but brute force and maybe Gandalf if he didn’t leave us halfway through.

“Then we leave… maybe he will catch up, change his mind,” Thorin rolled his eyes at this, and I lightly hit him in the chest. “He might! He deserves the chance to change his mind. He’s not like you and I; I came here for you, and you had no choice but to go on this quest for your people. He has a choice; he has a life here that means something to him. And if he stays, if he chooses not to come with us, then we respect his decision.” He tilted his head as he listened to me, watching me with mock offense and astonishment. In truth, no matter how much he’d act like he was upset with me, he knew I was right. And besides, I doubt he could be upset with me for long.

“We are leaving now. If he joins us, then so be it. If he stays here… I will do as you ask.”

Within the hour we had loaded our ponies up with bags and sleeping rolls, and slowly made our way out of Hobbiton. While neither Gandalf nor I rode here he assured me that he told a few of the company members to bring two extra ponies for us, and I was not disappointed with my gray one. She was sweet, clearly well into her age, a bit snappish at the boys but she got on well enough with Myrtle and Minty. Balin called her Fenen. Morning had broken and covered the woods of the Shire in beautiful golden light, flittering down through branches, warming my back.

“Wait! Wait!” The young hobbit came running up behind the group, “I signed it.”

“Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Give him a pony.”

“No, no, no, no. That…that won’t be necessary. Thank you. I’m sure I can keep up on foot. Yeah, I…I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frog Morton once.” I have no idea what he’s talking about, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a frog named Morton, but as I looked back to the hobbit, he was lifted off the ground and placed on a pony. It was like they had practiced it; the action was so precise and seamless.

“Come on, Nori! Pay up!”

“What’s that about?” Bilbo road up beside Gandalf and me.

“Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you’d turn up. Most of them bet that you wouldn’t.”

“And what did you think?”

“Well…” He paused as a small pouch flew in his direction. He caught it effortlessly, gauging the amount by the sound of the coins clicking together, “My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second.”

Days passed, and with them the beautiful peace of the shire. We went east, across open plains stretching for miles, the golden hills tumbling ahead, and the land faded into thick pine forests and sharp juts of stone. Night hung heavy over the company. We were tired, not to the point of exhaustion, but definitely tired. We had climbed up a small cliff side, settling ourselves on a vantage point looking over the treetops. While the ground was covered in pine needles, I found a way to roll out my bedroll and lay down without dragging any in with me. I laid on my stomach, cloak rolled up as a makeshift pillow under my chest, my mother’s spell book open in front of me as a flick through the pages. Along the margins, little scribbles, tips, and doodles littered the pages, all in my mother’s handwriting. Time had faded the paper yellow, and the ink was gray instead of black now. The leather cover was faded, the edges worn down and fuzzy, the latch on the front no longer closing completely. I missed her, in a deep, strange way that only comes with losing a parent you loved. I don’t know what drew my attention to him, but I looked up to see Bilbo silently walking up to his pony Myrtle. He gave her an apple, smiling fondly at the small horse and I couldn’t help but grin. No wonder Gandalf loved Hobbits so much; if all of them were like Bilbo, the Shire must be an absolutely wonderful place to live. In the darkness beyond, howling echoed in the distance, disrupting the peaceful silence, and turning it tense.

“What was that?” He looked to Fili and Kili, a bad choice of informants in hindsight.

“Orcs.” Kili whispered, as if merely saying their name would call them to us.

“Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there.” Fili built off the tense atmosphere his brother had created. These two will be the death of me, I swear.

“The lone lands are crawling with them. They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood.” Bilbo was afraid, and these two couldn’t seem to get enough enjoyment out of it. They laughed as Bilbo glanced around, terrified that the orcs were closer than they sounded. As cruel as they were for making it out to be a joke, I knew there was some truth to what they said. It had been years, 20 something to be not-so-exact, I had made to mistake of traveling east along the forest river to get to Framsburg, a small town on the edge of the Misty Mountains. It was abandoned now, long since, when the Éothéod left to make their home in the Calenardhon. I didn’t make it far outside the Greenwood before I was attacked. I don’t remember much about it, but there were a lot of them and only one of me. I tell myself I did what I had to, and that’s the truth no matter how you look at it. It was ugly, THEY were ugly, I barely got home afterwards.

“You think that's funny? You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?” Thorin spoke up, and I was suddenly reminded that the orcs weren’t close, and that as far as we were concerned, they weren’t our problem. My eye shot up from where I had been staring at the ground. Thorin was pacing across the camp, making his way to the edge of the cliff.

“Ara nín… please.”

“We didn’t mean anything by it.” Kili lowered his eyes, guilt written across both of their faces.

“No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world.” He was being harsh, and I don’t blame him, but it reminds me how much he’s changed. I always see him as the young prince sneaking through the city, desperately trying to swoon the naïve little witch he’s guiding. It’s not fair to him, I know. Thorin has grown as a person and a king, to see him as anything less would be an insult.

“Don’t mind him, laddie.” Balin spoke from his place by the fire. “Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began...by beheading the king.” For the first time, I was hearing the story that started it all 56 years ago. “Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing. Taken prisoner or killed...we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him. A young Dwarf prince facing down the pale Orc.” This wouldn’t have been too long after Dale. He still would have looked the same as before. “He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the Orcs back. And our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then ‘there- there is one who I could follow. There is one...I could call king’.” A stunned silence followed, a reverence for everything Thorin had done for all of us, for his people. Bilbo broke the silence, finally.

“And the Pale Orc? What happened to him?” I looked to Thorin before looking to Gandalf. Something about the way the old man’s eyes darkened told me that we didn’t want to know.

“He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago.” Thorin walked back to his bedroll, passing mine as he did, and he looked down at me with tired eyes. He swept the foot closest to me out to the side, gently brushing my elbow as he did, and I smiled only a little. I guess that was enough because he also began to smile just a little too. That night, the darkness around us seemed alive, violent, like the air itself was trying to crawl into camp and suffocate us. The next couple of days consumed us in thick pines and narrow paths. And rain. So…much…rain. I was never a fan of being IN the rain. Sure, it was beautiful, and quite peaceful at times, but being IN the rain, freezing and dripping with a runny nose and no feeling in my fingers, this was not ideal.

“Here, Mr. Gandalf? Can’t you do something about this deluge?” Dori piped up from the near end of the party trail. We were all soaked, hoods up but not doing much anymore. I wish I had done something, cast a spell to keep us dry, or perhaps enchanted our cloaks to keep us dry, but little could be done when it rains for 4 days straight.

“It is raining, master dwarf. And it will continue to rain until the rain is done! If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.” Gandalf was far ahead, riding near Thorin and Dwalin in the front.

“Are there any?”  

“What?”

“Other wizards?”

“There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman, The White. Then there are the two blue wizards. Do you know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.”

“And who is the fifth?”

“Well, that would be Radagast, The Brown.”

“Is he a great wizard or is he…more like you?”

“I think he’s a very great wizard, in his own way. He’s a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forestlands to the East, and a good thing too, for always evil will look to find a foothold in this world.” He slowed his horse to ride alongside mine. He lowered his head, leaning over to whisper.

“My dear, I must ask something of you.” By his tone, I immediately looked over to Thorin. He was far ahead, leading us forward, and there was little chance he’d hear us from back here.

“Mithrandir, why are you whispering? There is no secret worth keeping from him, you know that.”

“Yes, well, this is more of… a favor. Because we both know how stubborn he can be, and his distaste of Elves will be a hindrance soon enough.” Now this caught my attention.

“What does this have to do with the Elves?” He pulled the map to the mountain from his pocket.

“I may or may not… have asked for Bilbo to borrow this from Thorin last evening. You still read Sindarin, Quenya, and some ancient Dwarvish, yes?” I was fluent in the common tongue as well as Sindarin, the dialect of the Elves of the Greenwood, however my Quenya was iffy at best and I could only read ancient Dwarvish, not speak it.

“I don’t understand what that has to do with this, it’s written in modern Dwarvish, not any dialect of Elvish.”

“Yes, but there are hidden pieces to this map, and I believe there may have been some Elvish tricks used to hide them.”

“So, you want me to try and decode this? Wouldn’t it be better to stop at Rivendell? It’s along our way and would make things a lot easier.” He sighed.

“Thorin will not go to Rivendell, not of his only volition anyhow. No, it would be best if you could decode the map yourself.” I sighed, tucking the map into my cloak.

“I will try, but I make no guarantee of success.” He nodded, seemingly pleased, and rode ahead. This felt like going behind Thorin’s back, but the more I thought about it the less harm I found there. I was helping, I had convinced myself, and as long as I was helping and not hindering then maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. That evening we stopped at an abandoned farm some miles up the hillside. Moss and vines had grown wild over the broken stones, the roof heavy with shattered wooden planks.

“We’ll camp here for the night. Fi­li, Ki­li, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them.”

“A farmer and his family used to live here.” Gandalf muttered, examining the remains of the house. If I didn’t see the house for myself, I would have thought he meant recently. 

“Oin, Gloin, get the fire going.”

“I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the hidden valley.” I knew Gandalf would try to convince Thorin to go to the Elves. 

“I’ve told you already. I will not go near that place.” 

“Why not? The Elves could help us, we could get food, rest, advice.” I placed my things down on the ground, kicking my bag to keep it from tipping over. I wouldn’t mind going to see Elrond, I had not seen him in a long long time. 

“I do not need their advice.” Never mind. 

“We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us.

“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor. What help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves looked on and did nothing! You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather, who betrayed my father.” I felt a punch in my gut at that. Thranduil was the one who abandoned him, not Elrond. 

“You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past.” 

“I did not know they were yours to keep.” Gandalf left in a huff, stomping away without a word of where he was going. Thorin moved on from the conversation entirely. He kept giving out assignments, making sure food was going, the ponies were taken care of, etc. My legs were killing me from the ride, but I approached him all the same. 

“Ara nín…” He turned to me, and his eyes lit. The way he had to look down slightly to meet my eyes gave me a chill. I need to stay focused. 

“You heard us then,” I nodded. “I know the elves are like kin to you, but I cannot go to them. They will try to stop us…” 

“Or they will aid us.” He rolled his eyes at me, but I ignored it. “Gandalf is trying to guide you to Rivendell, to Lord Elrond. He is a good man, a great man even, who has aided others in Middle Earth so many times. He was a good friend of Durin the 4th, he knew his children and his wife, Disa. Elrond is my friend, he will be yours as well, but you must trust me.” 

“My Lady…. I trust you, but I do not trust elves.” I felt the conversation slowly die and I knew I could not convince him… so I pulled the map from my pocket. His eyes went wide with confusion and shock, but thankfully not anything close to betrayal.

“Don’t be alarmed, Seronil, Gandalf had Bilbo lift it from you a few days back. He asked that I investigate it, try and find its secrets that may have been invisible to the eye. Thorin…” He was so close to me, a few inches between our chests, and his eyes were soft again as I looked up at him. “There is hidden text, but I cannot see it. I know you hate them, but if there is a chance we come across the Elves, even by accident, I beg that you take advantage of their tools and knowledge. I could not do it, but maybe they can.” He sighed but lifted his hand to brush my jawline with his knuckles.

“I will do what you ask, but do not hold it against me if I retain my distaste for them.” I sighed with a smile. Only a dwarf could be this stubborn, truly.

“Is he coming back? He’s been a long time.” We turned to look at Bilbo, who was watching in the direction that Gandalf left with growing anxiety.

“He’s a wizard! He does as he chooses. Here. Do us a favor, take this to the lads,” Bofur reassured him, but I saw it didn’t ease Bilbo’s nerves in the slightest. Quicker than a flash, Bofur turned and smacked Bombur’s hand away from the pot, “Stop it, you’ve had plenty.”

“C’mon,” I laughed a little, “Lets eat. There will be time for talk of your distain for elves later.” He smiled, and it was a tired, happy smile that I could imagine seeing only late in the evenings, after a long day. The kind that I’d look up and see as he crosses the doorway into the room, his eyes brightening as he sees I stayed awake, waiting. Heat moves up my neck straight to my ears. I’m getting too ahead of myself. Far, far too ahead of myself. We sat together, eating and speaking of times we lost while apart. I spoke of my times in the forest, dedicating every moment I could spare to expanding my abilities. I elected to keep the fact that I became a horrible recluse during that time to myself. He spoke of his time traveling with his people, moving from place to place, working where he could. He spoke highly of many of those he met along the way, those who helped his people where they could or offered them work for decent pay. The other members of the company recalled their own stories, and even reminisced about their families they would return home to see. Then, Balin began recalling Erebor, the great city under the mountain, the glittering emerald halls, the mines burning so bright you could feel the warmth from anywhere in the city, and the beauty that the dwarves dedicated to their homes. I found myself lost in the wonder of what Erebor must look like, and suddenly felt sick. I felt robbed, without having a right to feel robbed in any way. Erebor must be such a glorious place and it was taken and destroyed before I ever got to see it. I wonder if Thorin would have walked with me through the thousands of halls like he did in Dale. I wonder what kind of people we might have been if Smaug had never shown up. I would have continued to wonder, if not for the sound of Fili and Kili dashing into camp.

“Trolls!! Irak’Adad! Irak’Amad! Trolls have taken the ponies!” Thorin was on his feet within seconds, and he rallied the others as well.

“Weapons! Now!” time felt like it was moving too fast, and suddenly we were all running at three, very large, trolls. Ducking past Dwalin as he swung his ax high, I moved my hand in a sweeping motion, starting from holding it straight out in front of me and ending directly to my side. A small blade that had been dropped to the ground stuck itself into the ankle of the troll closest to me. He stumbled back, shrieking and making a weird squealing sound, and in his flailing he knocked into one of his brothers. I didn’t see it, in hindsight, but I probably wouldn’t have been able to avoid it either. An arm the size of a large horse hit me and knocked me into a tree, crushing my ribs and causing my head to snap forward into the bark. Rolling to the ground, the stillness that followed was soothing in a way. Nothing moved, and not moving was preferable. After a few seconds, the stillness became nausea became the dizzy spinning sensation as I tried to push myself off the ground.

“Lay down your arms! Or we’ll rip his off!” Bilbo was above the fire, arms pulled out in either direction, and with a great huff every dwarf threw down his weapon. Still holding Bilbo hostage, they picked each one of us up and put us into what looked like Potato sacks. I was still trying to stand when a large hand grabbed the back of my head and lifted me up in the air before dropping me into a sack. Being dropped like that made my stomach turn and  my head hurt way worse. They didn’t have enough for everyone, but I was lucky to get my own. I was tossed down onto the ground near the others, and if I tilted my head back far enough, I could just barely see Thorin. Everything was still so blurry, and my chest hurt when I tried to breathe.

“Don’t bother cooking ’em! Let’s just sit on 'em and squash ’em into jelly!” Gross. Gross, gross, gross. I tried to stop listening, tried to think of a way to get out of this. If I could, I’d cut our binds, but even moving my shoulder hurt.

“Wait! You are making a terrible mistake.” Bilbo was standing in his own potato sack, hopping around and talking with the trolls. “I mean with the…uh, with the…with the seasoning.” I understand he’s trying, at least he’s putting up the effort to be cunning in the face of being turned to food. But arguing about the type of seasoning was not a good start.

“What about the seasoning?”

“Well, have you smelt them? You’re gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up!” This was hardly the time to be offended, but nearly every dwarf, including those spinning on the spike above the fire, began yelling about how they don’t smell and how rude Bilbo was being. I couldn’t bring myself to disagree with him though. I had spent weeks with these men, and I could attest to the nasty smell we were all slowly accumulating.

“What do you know bout cooking dwarf?”

“Shut up, and let the…uh, flurgerburbur-hobbit talk.” I felt shock, like my heart was falling into my stomach but in reverse. Maybe they would listen to him.

“It’s, uh…” No… no don’t hesitate now.

“Tell us the secret!”

“Ye-yes, I’m telling you. The secret is…to…skin them first!” Oh, Vanar help us. He was going to kill us faster.

“Tom, get me filleting knife.”

“What a load of rubbish! I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on. Scoff ’em I say, boots and all!”

“He’s right! Nothing wrong with a bit o’ raw dwarf. Nice and crunchy.”

“Uh…not…not that one, he…he’s infected!”

“You what?”

“Yeah, he’s got worms in his…tubes.” That… was worse. That was so much worse, it’s a wonderful plan, but the concept of worms in tubes was just… worse. “In-in fact, they all have. They’re infested with parasites, it’s a terrible business, I wouldn’t risk it, I really wouldn’t.”

“Parasites? Did he say parasites?” Oin spoke up from behind me. The others began protesting loudly, contradicting Bilbo’s claims, and I felt hope die a little inside me. If the stubborn pride of dwarves is what kills me today, I swear I’ll never forgive any of them. Suddenly they all stopped talking altogether, and after a quick pause began agreeing with Bilbo.

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!”

“Mine are the biggest parasites, I’ve got huge parasites!”

“We’re riddled! -”

“Yes, I’m riddled!”

“What would you have us do then? Let ’em all go?” The largest of the trolls asked, wiping his hand under his nose.

“Well…”

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to. This little ferret is taking us for fools!” Damn it, this one actually had some brains. Our transformation into tonight’s dinner began again and the shouting and jostling was making me sick.

“The dawn will take you all!” Looking up, Gandalf was standing atop the great stone behind the trolls, his staff raised. He brought it down into the stone and cracked it in half, light glaring though the two halves. The trolls screamed in pain, trying to shield themselves from the sunlight as it turned them to stone. In seconds the trolls were nothing more than statues, and the danger had passed. Wiggling out of our potato sacks was a slow process, and I elected to sit and try to fix myself. I heard Gandalf walking near and looked up just as he kneeled beside me.

“Hello my dear.”

“If I could lift my arm, I would smack you.”

“Ah,” he chuckled, “Let’s see what’s the matter.” He lifted his hand with his palm towards me and let it hover where my collarbone would be.

“What is wrong, is she hurt?” Thorin was on the other side of the mayhem and he still managed to notice that I wasn’t standing like the rest of them.

“Just some cracked ribs and a small head injury. How in the world did you manage this though?”

“I was thrown into a tree. Where were you?”

“I had gone to look ahead.” He wheezed as he stood to his full height. Thorin walked over and offered me his hand. I wrapped my hand around his arm, crossing our forearms together, and he pulled me to my feet.

“Sanâzyung…” He moved his hand up to my shoulder, looking down at me as he assessed what he could not see. He turned to the wizard. “What brought you back?”

“Looking behind,” He went to poke one of the stone trolls with his staff. “Nasty business. Still, they all are in one piece.”

“No thanks to your burglar.” I kicked Thorin’s foot with barely any effort.

“He had the nous to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that.” He was right. Without Bilbo we’d all be dead, made into barely tolerable food, being eaten by barely tolerable trolls. At least we weren’t dead.

~~~

Some translations for you: 

Ara nín = Sindarin for “My King” 

Seronil = Sindarin for “My love” yes I added this in, Thorin doesn’t speak Sindarin hehe 

Irak’Adad = Khuzdul for Uncle 

Irak’Amad = Khuzdul for Aunt

Sanâzyung = Khuzdul for “Perfect Love”

~~~

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