#sure it's poetic or funny or whatever. that's fine. tell me about it later!

[sondheimsleftasscheek]

no, chelseigh, i do not care about "what3words" the three square meters of space i'm standing on have been arbitrarily assigned. i don't care which square out of the 20 in this building has the most appealing name. i care about you memorizing your lines. get off your laptop.

[marvelsbanner]

Body, Mind, and Soul

Prompt: there simply needs to be more vision fic out there🥺 may i request a cute one where you've been going out for a while but the big L word hasn't been said yet and vis is just.. trying his best to tell you but doesn't know how🥺🥺 he's just so cute like that😭❤️ kissy i love ur stuff

Pairing: Vision x reader

Warnings: Slight language, tooth rotting fluff - beware of cavities 

Word Count: ~1700

A/n: Reblogs, likes, and feedback are very much appreciated! <3 All mistakes are my own! 

**I do not own marvel, sadly** **not my gif**

“Darling, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Vision phased through your walls to where you were sitting on your bed reading. Months ago you would have jumped straight out of your bones, startled by the synthezoid’s intrusion and lack of personal boundaries. In all honestly, it was no sooner after you had explained the concept of privacy and simple manners to Vision that you had come to look forward to his visits, not caring if he was intruding as long as he came to see you at all. 

It was strange, you’ll admit- very strange. You were the newest Avenger recruit, and the youngest (if you didn’t count that he was technically born a little over a year ago? He had the wisdom of a thousand year old sorcerer, so you didn’t think of him as younger) and so he had a naturally protective nature about him when it came to you. 

He always tried to be by your side during missions, saving your ass on multiple occasions. He never made you feel weak or like you needed protecting, but he was just always there for you. Not just in missions, but in everything. Joining the Avengers was a life changing decision that was not easy in any sense. You didn’t exactly have the prettiest past, which is partially what landed you there in the first place. You knew that none of the members there were exactly saints, but you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t deserve the new chance at life you were given. Not to mention you had been hearing about the Avengers for years now, and in your mind it was hard to take them off of this pedestal of superhero-assassin-gods to simple coworkers and family. 

Vision could sense your uneasiness, they all could really- but he had no filter and no sense of boundaries and was the only one to confront you about it. You were taken aback at first, but it was truly exactly what you needed. 

He would bring dinner to your room, offering to sit with you as you ate- even though he didn’t need to himself. He brought you DVDs, claiming Wanda told him that they were what lifted her mood. When that didn’t work he tried bringing some old records that Tony recommended, eventually bringing some books from Steve’s “project modernization” stash that peaked your interest. Some nights he would sit with you as you read, reading over your shoulder or watching something on the tv, just content to be in your presence. You never asked him to, and you never asked why, but you also never asked him to leave. 

The dynamic between the two of was certainly an unlikely one, Steve even asking you at one point if he needed to tell the Synthezoid to back off before you assured him that it was fine. 

Somewhere along the way you found yourself falling for Vision, utterly terrified and mortified over the uncertainty of if he could even feel those kinds of feelings towards anyone in return. But then you would hear him laugh at one of your jokes, a real hearty laugh when the joke wasn’t even that funny- or that smile, that god damn smile that stretched across his entire face with those pearly whites that made your heart flutter in your chest, or even worse- the small, shy smile that he would give you when he didn’t think you could see him that brought a faint blush to your cheeks every time. It was in those moments you let yourself feel a slimmer of hope that he could maybe, just maybe feel the same way. 

He eventually figures out that he feels the same as well, after a long conversation he had with Tony and Bruce over whether those feelings should even be possible for him or not. He decides that whether or not he should be able to, he most definitely did, and suddenly fleeting glances and stolen cozy nights turned into hands intertwined under the table during meetings and stolen kisses in the compound halls. 

A year later and everyone knows that it’s never just y/n or Vision, you get the both of you or neither of you, because you were a team.

About a month after the two of you had confessed your feelings Vis had asked you to “go steady”, it was adorable really- he said he saw it in a movie and thought it was what most human couples still did, and he was so nervous and flustered and cute you couldn’t help but say yes. 

Boyfriend and girlfriend, partners in crime, lovers- whatever you wanted to call it, you were. The labels didn’t matter, all that mattered was that you knew how you felt about each other. At least, you hoped you did. 

Vis had been acting strangely lately. He seemed more nervous around you; he was stuttering and losing his train of thought- he would sometimes act like he had something important to say and would end up saying nothing at all. Sometimes he would bring you flowers out of nowhere or prepare a meal he knew you loved, just to disappear for the rest of the night and you weren’t sure what to make of it. Sometimes he would babble on and on about some sort of poetic metaphor and ask if you understood what he meant and when you didn’t he would just tell you to pretend he said nothing at all. 

So there he was, phasing through your wall and asking to talk and you could see a large bouquet of roses behind his hand and you weren’t sure whether to be excited or scared or all of the above, so you simply dog-eared your book and set it aside, patting the empty side of the bed next to you for him to sit. 

He settled on the floor before walking over to the side of the bed and sitting, revealing the bouquet of flowers fully before shyly offering them to you.

“I was informed bouquets are a romantic gesture appropriate for such occasions” he explained, hands fidgeting as he spoke, not making eye contact with you. 

“And what occasion is that?” You inquire, quirking a brow at his behavior. 

“Ah yes that, right, well..” He started before opening and closing his mouth a few times, unsure of how to go on. 

“Darling, I don’t have much to go on with this in terms of past experience- this is all very new to me as you know, however, I have come to understand that there is a certain point in relationships, romantic relationships that is, where the feelings that one has for the other might start to change.” He explains, fingers continuing to fidget and pull at another. 

“Vis.. if this is you wanting a break from me, from us- flowers don’t exactly portray that message clearly..” You reply, anxiety beginning to settle in your chest.

As soon as you say that, any worries at what he could be implying flood your mind as his face fills with distress.

“Oh no- darling, no, that’s not what I was getting at at all!” He hurriedly says, setting the flowers on the bed and taking your hands in his own. “No no, it’s quite the opposite actually! See, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for quite a while, months even! But I wasn’t sure when a good time would be, and no article online could give me a set answer and I didn’t know how you felt- I thought I did sometimes but other times I just couldn’t be sure and then on this last mission when you almost got hurt and I couldn’t bear the thought that-“ you cut off his rambling by taking his cold face in your hands, “Vis hunny, slow down. What is it you want to tell me?” You ask, finally getting him to meet your eyes. He looked more nervous now than he had been for any mission in the past. 

He hands came up to rest atop your own on his face, intertwining your fingers together as he spoke softly, “Well darling, I just- I just thought, we’ve been together for quite some time now, and I think I can safely say- maybe- I hope- that neither one of us want to be letting this go anytime soon and I, well I just thought you ought to know that I love you.” 

A smile immediately pulled at your lips, you had been so afraid just a moment ago that he wanted nothing to do with you and there he was, telling you that he wanted everything to do with you. You wanted to say it back, you wanted to scream it out but he was sitting there with his big anxious doe eyes and a small, nervous smile as he awaits for your answer and suddenly all your words fail you- so you pull him in to a kiss instead. 

It was sweet but not chaste, lips firmly planted against each other as you fought the urge to cry because he was so perfect and you felt more loved than you had ever felt before. Your hands clutched the sides of his face as he planted his on your shoulder blades, bringing you closer to him but never too forcefully- always giving you the option to retreat, but you never take it, and you never will. 

The two of you finally part, gasping for air as he searches your eyes to gouge your reaction and finds a singular stray tear, chasing it away with a swipe of his finger. 

“So, may I assume that this may be reciprocated?” He asks shyly and you laugh, the two of you laugh together with big smiles and open hearts and you assure him “Yes, Vis, I love you, I love you too. Body, mind, and soul.”

“Body, mind, and soul.” He repeats, a smile forming at his lips before he pulls you in for another kiss, the rest of the world melting away until it felt like only the two of you, like it was always meant to be. 

[rebellconquerer]

Another prompt fill, this time for @woobeau and the prompt "what if I kissed you right now". I hope you like!

"Sarah! How lovely to see that you could make it, and you brought the Sergeant as well… how nice." Abigail's voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Sarah doesn't even twitch at it, just turns smoothly from where she is gathering the trays of baked goods from the car, a polite smile painted on her face.

"Hello, Abigail. Yes, of course, I wouldn't miss this. The boys were both so excited about it." Sarah says brightly. Ice wouldn't melt in her mouth.

Abigail makes a face at the use of her full name. Sarah knows that she prefers being called Abby, but then again Abigail knows that Sarah prefers her name to stay out of her mouth and yet still here she is, hand playing gently in her blond hair, fake smile in place.

They both stand facing each other, eyes flat for a moment before James approaches them. Sarah sees him over Abigail's shoulder and watches him roll his eyes, making a lightning fast funny face for her benefit before he clears his throat.

Abigail turns around slowly, smile going much too warm as she adjusts her hair.

"Hey there, stranger! Long time no see!" Abigail says, swaying towards him.

It's Sarah's turn to roll her eyes.

James gives her his 'I'm too polite to say fuck off' smile and a head nod.

"Abby," he mutters in greeting. "Why not let me get those, Sarah?" He says, stepping in between the two of them and grabbing the last few trays before walking off again.

Sarah watches Abigail stare at his ass. She turns, slamming her trunk loud enough to grab Abigail's attention.

"So nice to see him out and about down here." Abigail says to her, eyes still staring after James.

Sarah shoulders her bag and refuses to roll her eyes again. "So you mentioned, Abigail." She replies, heading into the school while high heeled footsteps follow behind her.

"We are going to have you assigned to table 14 with Leslie, his daughter is in 4th grade, that's where the sweets and drinks will be sold." Abigail chatters.

A school fair wasn't something that she had much experience with as a kid in public school, but she's gotten used to the private school life and the strange rituals it seemed to entail. Not to mention the strange people.

"Sounds good," Sarah replies, trying to get the woman to move along. She sees James has already located the right table, a small tower of baked goods piled high on a ugly, green table cloth. As she approaches he looks up from conversation with an older man with kind eyes and greying temples.

Sarah smiles distractedly as she approaches.

"You must be Sarah. Leslie." The man says, standing to shake her hand while Abigail continues to hover.

"How long will you be in town this time, Bucky?" Abigail asks with a wide smile.

"Oh not long probably. A week or so."

"And Sarah has you here working, no one around to show you a good time? You really should take me up on that offer of dinner. I know a little place right on the water that's just to die for." Abigail continues, leaning into James' space.

Sarah watches his smile go a little stiff. She turns her back to them, focusing on unpacking her little stand while Leslie watches the conversation with a look of sick fascination on his face.

"Thanks, Abby. Yeah, one of these times..." James mutters, trailing off as an uncomfortable silence starts creeping in.

One of the other mother's calls out to Abigail just then and she has to move along, apologizing (only to James) for cutting their conversation short and promising to pick it back up later.

The moment she's out of hearing range, Leslie turns to James. "I honestly thought she was going to whack you in the head and drag you off to her Prius. I was kinda interested to see if you were gonna be beating her off with a broom."

Sarah can't help the boisterous laugh that escapes her at that sentence and the absolute horror that dawns on James' face.

"I like you." Sarah says, eyeing Leslie. He shrugs.

"I call 'em like I see 'em, and that was one hell of a mating ritual. You think she's in heat? I think she's in heat." Leslie replies easily, helping to organize the table.

Sarah glances over her shoulder to see James pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You okay there, soldier?" She asks, laughter clear in her tone.

James glares at her. "And see, if I tell her to shove her dinner invite I'm anti-social and demonstrating maladaptive behaviors. I'm gonna go find the boys. Hopefully they’re far away from her." James mutters the last bit before turning and stalking off.

Sarah glances up to see Leslie staring after him, eyes most definitely focussed on his ass.

"Really? You too? I thought Abigail said you were married." Sarah huffs.

Leslie does not look the least bit called out. "Yeah, married not dead… and even if I was dead I think I'd sit up and say yes sir to that behind."

Sarah shoots him a dirty look, it takes a fraction of a second but Leslie clocks something in her expression.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I didn't realize he was spoken for. Why the hell didn't you scratch Abby's eyes out for staring at him like a slab of meat?" Leslie questions, face contrite.

Sarah purses her lips. "So I can be told I'm an angry black woman? I think not. Abigail and I have enough history without me going postal on her for making eyes at a man who'll never give her the time of day."

Leslie grins at that, wide and feral. "So he is spoken for then? You and him? Lord have mercy, do you have enough friends? Could you have more? I could have lived my whole life without seeing a man that fine in person. Tell me you're just dying to share some details with a group of girlfriends." Leslie says in a manic rush, words coming fast but with a lazy drawl.

Sarah laughs again, flopping into one of the chairs right as Leslie does as well.

"You really just say whatever is on your mind, don't you?" She asks, with a sidelong glance.

Leslie shrugs. " My husband calls it verbal diarrhea. Says it's endearing."

Sarah smiles at the honesty on his face. This man is clearly totally comfortable with who he is. She wasn't lying, she does like it.

"It definitely won't be boring, that's for sure." She responds and Leslie huffs out a small laugh.

**********************************

The rest of the booths are set up over the course of the next hour, the indoor gymnasium being transformed into a food hall as the outdoor field becomes a fair, complete with rides of questionable safety, clowns and screaming children.

The school puts on this fair once a year, ostensibly to raise money for extracurriculars, but Sarah thinks it's really an excuse for the parents to have a culturally appropriate dick measuring contest. She was over it within 5 minutes of being here the first year the boys started, but she will not let them feel, for even one moment, like they don't belong here as much as every other child. So, here she is, polite smile plastered on her face and socially acceptable conversation topics at the ready.

She hadn't even invited James, not really, but Sam got called away and James had mentioned he'd be at the base for a few days and wanted to see her and when Sarah had mentioned she had to do this, he'd just invited himself right along. He'd been to a few other school events before and if it gave him some time with her and the boys, he said it was worth it.

She glances around and spots him clearly trying to disengage from a conversation with Abigail and her flock of desperate housewives. It's almost amusing watching from across the room as James continues with his polite but distant 'fuck off' smile. Within a few minutes he orchestrates his escape and makes a beeline straight for her.

She smiles as he drops into the chair Leslie vacated moments ago, back to his admirers.

"Having fun?" She questions lightly, it's joking but also very real. He still doesn't like… well… people, and sometimes he needs to just leave. All he does is smile tiredly at her, however.

"I don't remember women being this aggressive in the 40s. Did I just miss it? I used to have to work for this kind of attention." He mutters, leaning over to steal a cupcake from the table. She scowls at him, but can't be bothered to slap his hand away.

"Oh please. I've seen pictures of you before the war. I don't believe that for one second." She mumbles.

That brings a slow, dangerous smile to his lips."Sarah! Are you trying to tell me you think I was pretty?"

She bites the inside of her cheek to prevent an answering smile. "Was, is. Don't fish for compliments. There are whole internet forums dedicated to deciding which version of you is prettiest, 1940s you or 2020s you. But hey, if you really wanna hear it said, I'm sure Abigail would love to wax poetically about any number of your virtues, probably starting with your ass." She replies dismissively.

His smile starts to verge into smirk territory. "Whoever said anything about my ass? Maybe you're projecting, Sarah?" He asks, eyes flicking obviously down to her mouth.

She shakes her head lightly in laughter, leaning just a bit away from him. She needs just a little breathing room before the full effect of Bucky Barnes flirting with her starts to get to her head.

"I think the number of people who have stared at it today speaks for itself." She mumbles, attending to her next customer, trying to ignore that she can feel him staring at her, his entire attention on her in that way that he has.

She glances over at him as the kid and his mother leave her stand. "What?"

"You know I've told Abby and her troupe no in a couple different languages at this point, but there is something I haven't tried yet." He whispers to her, leaning into her space again.

Sarah flicks her eyes over James' shoulder and she can see Abigail staring at them.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

His face gets a little more serious, the wattage of his smile turning down a little as his eyes flick down to her lips. She watches him take a deep breath and lick his own lips before he speaks, the motion sending a jolt of heat to her core.

"What if I kissed you right now?"

The question stuns her and she pulls in a sharp breath. "Here?" She squeaks.

"In front of God and all his angels." James replies, eyes coming back up to meet hers. "Think she'd get the message then?"

He's leaning in even closer, just on the wrong side of social decency and she can smell his cologne, something dark and earthy, mixed with the leather of his jacket and gloves. It's heady, almost intoxicating.

A part of Sarah wonders if he's joking. They aren't dating publicly or anything and so yeah, he follows her around a bit, but they could be friends, friends do that. But she meets his gaze and there is no hint of humor in them. The gears of her mind start to turn a mile a minute. Is this his way of saying he wants them to be more public? To have more borders than whatever 'definitely a thing' means. Or maybe he really is just giving Abigail the shake? Sarah suddenly feels like she's back in high school.

She sways in towards him, the move automatic, before she catches herself and pulls back a little.

"Um, that's probably not a great idea." She manages to whisper back, her own eyes straying to his mouth. "Probably wouldn't deter her too much and then she'd hate me even more than she does now. She's the umm… president of the PTA you know, dangerous enemy to have. Plus someone might get a shot of us, then that's in the magazines and there goes peaceful Delacroix."

Most people here don't know exactly who he is, but someone might, so she's not wrong. Still the mumbled excuses are just that, excuses. She whispers them instead of the truth, which is that if she's kissing him in public she wants it to be because they both really want to and are ready to.

The intensity of his gaze doesn't change, even while he leans away from her again, back into a socially acceptable distance. She can read nothing from his face about how he took her denial.

"Fine, but I'm keeping track. I'm exacting one kiss for every innuendo I have to suffer through." He murmurs and that draws a shocked laugh from her.

"Fair enough." She responds and the dark promise of the smile he gives her as he stands is enough to send her pulse soaring.

The moment he's gone, Leslie comes wandering back, eyes once again focused on James walking away.

"Holy crap, the two of you have enough heat to warm a small Canadian town." He says, dropping into the seat James just vacated.

Sarah starts to reorganize the line of snack sized juices on the table, attempting to ignore him.

"I don't know what you are talking about. You're the only one that has even noticed that we aren't just friends." She mutters. She sees Leslie shrug in her peripheral vision.

"Most people don't see chemistry anywhere they don't expect it. I'm a photographer. I spend half my time trying to get people to fake what the two of you are just dripping."

She smiles softly. She doesn't know why, but the fact that this man, this stranger, sees what she feels from James is… nice. Reassuring somehow.

"It may sound a little strange, but… thank you for that." She replies, unable to maintain eye contact.

Leslie just shrugs again, joining her in her unnecessary task of reorganising their wares.

"People don't always see the chemistry between me and my husband either." He says softly.

There is silence for a moment.

"Then again, if my husband looked at me in public the way that man just looked at you I'd be giving all the kiddies a real detailed sex ed lesson, right here on this table. You are a stronger woman than I, Sarah." Leslie says with a giggle.

Sarah smiles softly in response. Yes, yes she is.

[flowerbloom-arts]

Diggory Hodgkins ran up to his older brother, Samuel, after school had ended, he was rather excited because Samuel seemed to have been working on a new thing they'd be doing come after school on a Friday.

"Hullo Samuel!" He cried "We ought to do that thing we spoke of doing on this fine day?"

And a fine day indeed it was, not a single cloud in the sky, though the skies never seemed to appear that clear blue hue as depicted in illustrations or paintings, still, it was better than totally grey, atleast the sun was quite visible. Diggory would often get excited whenever the weather was anything other than dreary, though pathetic it may sound to some people, he enjoyed what little sunshine the heavens gave them.

"Hmh!" Samuel hummed with a nod.

"Yes!" Diggory exclaimed with a sense of victory, the two brothers started walking out of the school's campus, with Samuel in the lead "So what is it, might I ask? Excuse me! I know you like keeping secrets until the right moment but could you atleast spare a morsel of detail about it? My mind has been racking at what it could possibly be! But of course, one could never figure out what may be going on in that head of yours, oh goodness no."

"You'll see." Samuel stopped to pick up a wooden plank and some rope that he hid in a bush.

"Oh! Are those what you'll be using for the project?" Diggory guessed rather quickly.

"Yes." Samuel confirmed.

"Oh goody!" Diggory clapped "Perhaps I could guess what it is?"

"No." Sam answered harshly "How was school?" he asked and continued walking.

Diggory seemed a little deflated but understood that he shouldn't pry for answers to something he'll see quite soon, he adjusted his school satchel in a huff "Well." he started before following behind his brother "Quite the same actually, you know how it is. Teachers rambling academic nonsense for hours on end, peers picking on eachother, bland everything else. Seriously, I'm sorry but school is just so boring, yeah? How could anyone manage to sit down and listen and expect us to pay attention when there's nothing that even could be interesting!" He started to complain "What could possibly be so enticing about figuring out the third angle of a triangle? What would possibly motivate me to be invested in figuring out such a trivial conundrum to me personally? The teacher certainly never provides a solid motivation, it all becomes forgettable hogwash that has nothing to do with what I want out of life. Though I may possibly be rude, I'm sure you found that sort of thing fascinating given it may pertain to engineering in some way, right?" He paused for an answer from Samuel but then continued anyway "I guess you always were the academically inclined one, I'm over here 'daydreaming my school days off 'and 'being distracted' and whatever else people might say. It's interesting, really, how unlike eachother we are despite sharing the same blood, so to say." Diggory crossed his arms and started kicking a small pebble as a temporary companion on their journey "Some might even use the word funny. All I know is that we're stuck together until something or other separates us, and I believe that's what brothers ought to do. Shame we have a four year difference between us, wouldn't it be cool if we were twins instead?" He looks up at him eagerly, but then looks down again "Ah, you probably find it ridiculous that such a thing would be important. The prospect is rather poetic in my mind but I don't suppose you would endorse it, sorry. We do appear to live in two separate bubbles that might converge into a venn diagram with little in common... Excuse me, we must've had this conversation before, I must sound like a verbal equivalent of a merry-go-round... Have we had this conversation before?" Diggory paused a little for an answer "Samuel, I am genuinely asking this time."

"Ah. Yes, I think so." Samuel said thoughtfully, sometimes it was hard to tell when Diggory was actually looking for an answer or just pausing before continuing his rants, so it was often that he needed to clarify so Samuel can answer. Samuel stopped at a tree in front of a cliff side view and laid down his wooden plank and rope.

"Oh, all right, I suppose that sounds correct... Goodness these aren't actually conversations, really, I should stop calling them that." Diggory saw that Sam had stopped and looked at the sea "By my tail, that looks gorgeous! Does the ocean always sparkle like that?" He said in awe.

"Only in shining daylight, I believe." Samuel replied, inspecting the branches of the tree.

"Well, that's simply another reason to hate the drowsy weather. I can not wait until we get to travel across the ocean and get to live in country where there's more sun and less imbecilic grey clouds overhead, oh, the dream." Diggory continued staring at the sparkly waters before the pebble he was kicking before had landed on his head, thanks to the aim of his brother no less.

"Think you can climb?" Samuel asked, pointing a thumb at a nice-looking tall branch of his tree.

"Oh yeah! Hold on just a moment!" Diggory dropped his satchel and took off his shoes in a hurry. He ran up and started climbing the tree "It's a real shame you can't do this sort of thing, brother."

Samuel leaned against the tree and made a disinterested hum of confirmation, he didn't actually care much for it. He lifted his ears up as he waited, ready for another rambling.

Diggory continued climbing "Like in all seriousness, climbing trees is rather fun. You get to the tippy top on a tree and you get to see the world from a whole new perspective! Everything is alot smaller and perhaps at the right view you could pretend everyone is a tiny little creature that you can squash between your index and your thumb," he reached the last branch of the tree- the one he needed to get to, of course "Like this!" Diggory closes one eye and pretends to squish his brother's head between his fingers "But I suppose someone of your size already gets that sense, big blue."

"Yep. Which is part of what drives everyone away, I suppose." Samuel looks up at his brother and throws the rope up to him.

Diggory catches the rope in his paws "Well it's not just that, atleast from what I hear of you from others." He looks down at the rope "What am I to do with this, exactly?"

"Tie it to the branch." Samuel says as he takes out a knife from his own school satchel.

"Hm." Diggory ties a knot and started pondering what this latest contraption could possibly be again. "Is this another one of your 'practical joke' inventions for your enemies?" Samuel always liked building pranks for anyone he happened to dislike, it used to be a big habit years ago but later the amount of them dwindled as he matured, but even at his current age it's still not out of the realm of possibility.

"Nnnnnope." Samuel said, he put up the wood plank against it at a certain height and chopped off the rope with his knife accordingly, then threw the cut off rope up at his brother again "Tie that one about..." He uses the plank as a reference and placed his hand at a certain spot "Here."

"Well if it isn't a practical joke then what else could it possibly be?" Diggory adjusted the position of his rope to his brother's hand placement and tied a knot on the branch.

"Be patient, will you?" Samuel cut off the excess rope, he put the knife back in his satchel and took out a hand drill to use it on the ends of the plank.

"You know carrying those sorts of things on you is part of the reason why everyone thinks you're weird, right?" Diggory said.

"Mphm." Samuel replied as he's finished drilling the holes of the plank "By the by, you can come down now." he put one of the ropes through one of the holes and tied a knot under it, he did the same for the other one. After he was done he put his hands on his hips rather proudly.

Diggory climbed down enthusiastically to see what his brother had just created "A... Swing?" his enthusiasm seemed to turn into a rather puzzled expression toward his brother "Sam, I love you dearly, but I have to admit you have created far more impressive things than this. Unless this isn't all of it?"

"Eh. That's just about it." Samuel answered with a shrug.

"Really? But- why?" Diggory was absolutely bewildered by this.

"It's for you. You like looking at the sea, thought you'd like something a little more convenient." Samuel was still relatively proud of this small achievement.

"Ah, for me?" Diggory lightened up a little and went to sit on the newly built swing "Hm! I guess it is rather convenient for me!" He started swinging on it lightly "Such a nice view today, too. Suppose I should thank you, then!"

"No need." Samuel sat on the grass next to him and took off his own shoes "Rather exhausting. School. Possibly other things aswell. Nice to take a step back and make something like this with you." He slouches over and rested on his knee to view the ocean.

"Heh. Yeah..."

The two brothers sat with eachother until the sun came down, it was rather peaceful that day, the greyish blue skies just seemed to look like regular blue.

[kneamet]

Delusion (5/5)

Trigger Warning: alcohol, obsession

Summary: she was the only girl in his band whose singing he loved so much. She was the person he truly respected. Andy Miles was someone Hank Williams had an unrelenting obsession with.

Chapter five: Lovesick Blues

POV Hank

He was glad to breathe a sigh of relief in his free chest, feeling as if he were the freest man in the world. Hank was finally able to remove this unpleasant burden that weighed on him in the bonds of an unloved marriage. A marriage that literally drowned him down.

He was glad that he was able to go through everything in court through the proceedings and slander in his direction, written and claimed from Audrey. As if she knew anything about him and understood him at all. And now, Hank, being completely free, can do whatever he wants and can show the love of the girl he loves.

The guy smiled, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds and stopping moving. The beloved girl who will soon become his wife. She would be someone he would cherish and protect beyond measure. Andy will be everything to him, after he finally gets the recognition from the public.

"Why are you frozen, Hank?" There was a sneer from his right, and he turned his head in the direction of the intended speech, realizing that he could have listened to that voice for years without interrupting. He wouldn't care what she said. The main thing is the sound.

Williams was sure that once he and Andy were finally a couple, exchanging light formalities and vows to keep, he would definitely have her humming to him and reading aloud, just enjoying herself.

It was a joy to Hank to hear her voice, soft but slightly hoarse and tired, after a lot of rehearsals, from which he was very tired, but always enjoyed it. He was always so soothing. So gentle and, you might even say, caring, unlike Audrey, a voice that always made him mad.

He knew that he had invited her to the studio just so that she wouldn't yell and make him lose his temper, or else he might have flared up like a match and wouldn't have stopped in his anger, which would have continued to eat at him from the inside out.

Audrey's voice was really terrible. Unpleasant, eating into the brain and piercing it into a million small particles.

Blinking a couple of times, Hank turned his attention to his beloved, who was sitting a foot away from him, looking at him with a puzzled look, slightly raising an eyebrow, which caused small, barely noticeable wrinkles to form on the bridge of her nose. It was very cute.

"It's fine," he says, grabbing the ketchup and quickly unscrewing the white cap. His gaze reluctantly shifts to Don, who just grins. "Here's what, I'm not buying," the guy finally says, pressing down on the middle of the plastic bottle with his fingers.

"A ketchup burger?" Helms asks, adjusting the gold-plated watch on his left hand and nodding at his friend's food.

"Ha, ha, yeah," Hank smiles, tossing the top of the bun on top of the rest and thinking that he probably wouldn't be able to eat the burger without the extra extra. It was sad that no one shared his taste in this kind of food. Although in his opinion, it was deliciously delicious.

"Sammy," he calls out to the guy who was sitting at the opposite table, carefully reading the list of songs listed in the ratings. "Well, have you finished reading?"

"No, I didn't start from the end," he doesn't miss the opportunity to mock, grinning slightly, to which Hank just smiles and continues the banter, in which they measure their sense of humor and ability to tease the other person.

"So they still teach you to read at school," Williams doesn't even look at him, watching out of the corner of his eye as Andy tries to choose where to start eating. The smile on the guy's face does not come off, but only becomes more noticeable.

There's nothing to be heard from the side, and Hank just raises an eyebrow. Just gave up? This is not like him and their usual conversations.

"Funny, Hank," Sammy nods and turns to face his friend, still clutching the small magazine that is important to the musician's fate. "You're not much older than me."

"I was older than you when I was born," Hank says, taking a sip of the scalding coffee, setting the cup down next to him. His attention is completely focused on saying something ironic to Pruett.

However, instead of continuing, the latter gets up from his chair and pushes it back to the table, going over to the others and tossing the publication with the open page, on which the latter has found something that will really attract the attention of the group.

"Look at this," Hank dusts off the small crumbs on his palm and picks up the magazine he's offered. "Take a look," everyone looks at Williams.

The guy's eyes widen. He can't believe it. I don't want to believe it. It seems that this is just a hoax. A lie that will be revealed later. No, it's not possible.

His palms trembled and began to sweat. His mouth fell open. My breath was knocked out, and my heart began to give a loud rhythm, interrupting any sounds and actions from the environment.

First place in popular. First place in sales. His song. His.

He covers his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his smile and the naive look that doubts what he sees. It's too much for him. It's not real and he's sure of it, handing the magazine to Andy, who accepts it happily and with some suspicion.

Hank finally got what he wanted. He was finally able to get at least something that he had worked so hard for for so long. His dream to get into the charts came true.

It remains to implement another one...

"Hank, this... God, congratulations, " Andy says, putting his left arm around him and hitting him on the shoulder with his right, trying to show support. Hank only sends a grateful smile to his beloved, but his gaze is still detached from what is happening.

"I'll tell you what," interrupting his thoughts and disbelief, he leans closer to the table, in the middle of which Miles has placed the magazine. Everyone moves towards him, starting to listen carefully. "And it's not all bullshit. If, after that, I don't get to the Opry," he points a finger at the publication and turns his head towards the girl, starting to laugh. "I'll give up the music," there's laughter, at which Hank slams his hand on the table and rocks back in his chair. "Honestly. Let them then look for me then for me and beg me to sing for them. And they'll have to beg me."

And he wasn't lying. Lying wasn't his style, especially when it came to something he'd devoted his entire adult life to. He can really give up music, even though he will have to listen to his mother's loud talk about how she spent a lot of time driving him around the states in his youth and showing his talent. He'll quit the music. The truth will leave if he does not achieve what he wants, but with him will be his beloved wife, whom he has been trying to get for so long.

***

It's raining. The gray ground seems to droop, and small puddles form on the old black asphalt. Countless splashes of raindrops can be heard in the muddy puddles. Steady noise. The impact of raindrops on the window pane causes unpleasant thoughts.

Andy exhales cigarette smoke, enjoying the weather. Its cloudy mood and the state of nature. She dusts off a bittersweet cheap cigarette and the weightless ash falls on her starched white shirt, which she rarely changes.

Taking another long drag, wanting to enjoy the bright aftertaste. Hank knows this feeling, and he often does it, even though he knows how disgusting it is sometimes. However, this taste of cheap tobacco was always poetic, which he certainly liked. But the guy himself preferred more expensive cigarettes and at some points did not quite understand how Miles even smokes them. The throat after them hurts, and they do not last long, because after the taste disappears altogether, forcing people to think about buying more expensive.

Williams was sure that as soon as he and the girl finally lived together, he would forbid her to buy cheap tobacco.

"You know, Andy..." Pausing for a moment and taking a deep drag on his own cigarette, he waited for her to look at him. "I just realized that inspiration is literally chasing me," he heard a small grin from the side, to which he only smiled, shaking his head and lowering it down, pursing his lips. A small habit that he couldn't get rid of and that showed up in moments of doubt or embarrassment.

"Has the muse finally visited?" Miles joked, and the tobacco smoke filled the small space around them again.

He liked to be near the girl he loved, to whom, if he could, he would dedicate all the odes and songs of the world. He liked to stand with her under the awning of the cafe, smoking the cheap cigarettes he smoked just for her, and watch the restless rain, wishing it would never end and they would enjoy each other's company.

"Yes..." sighed Hank, biting his lower lip with his front teeth and lowering his hand to brush off the ash.

The Muse he was talking about was literally everything to him, and he didn't know why Andy didn't take the hint. He was torn between telling his beloved what he had wanted for so long and remaining silent until the right time came. I didn't want to ruin the established idyll between them, but I didn't want to be silent either. Doubts tormented him for quite a long time and he simply could not properly settle his obsessive thoughts.

***

Hank wandered through the little-known streets, trying to calm down and come to his senses. In his relationship with Audrey, he was always disturbed by quarrels, which he literally hated. They were terrible and very annoying, literally infuriating. What difference does it make if she sings well or poorly? They would have achieved nothing anyway, knowing her not-so-simple nature, expressing defiance and defiance.

His head was down, and his hands were in his pockets, pulling down the trousers that were held at the old belt. His thoughts were currently occupied only with obsessions.

The light wind didn't bother him. Her hair was already disheveled, so there was nothing wrong with it becoming even more messy.

"...I got a feeling called the blues, oh Lord... " a young female voice was heard nearby. Hank raised his head, trying to catch the pleasant and melodious sound coming from. This aroused a genuine interest in him.

He liked that unusual voice. It clearly belonged to a woman, although no, most likely a girl, and a very young one at that. He sounded a little hoarse and tired. As if the person doing this was just trying to calm down and avoid boredom.

"...Since my baby said goodbye.. " came again, and Hank tried to find out where it was coming from. He had never heard a better voice in his life than this girl's.

Williams quickened his pace, straining his ears. It wasn't that far away, so it was safe to say that he wasn't far from the unknown with the amazing voice.

Hank's eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. He looked at her with awe and admiration. She was beautiful. But no, not even that, because she was so damn beautiful.

He had never seen anyone more beautiful than her. Even Audrey, his beloved wife, was terrible compared to this songbird. God, she was beautiful.

He knew that at this moment, in this second of his life, he didn't give a damn about anyone around him. He doesn't care about the problems, the world in general. All that matters is that he has seen the most beautiful stranger.

Her melodious voice caressed his ears. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and took a few sharp breaths, saying flattering words to the girl who was sitting on the bench right in front of him.

"Do you want to join my group?"

***

June 11, 1949

Grand Ole Opry, Nashville

He hadn't felt this kind of excitement in a very long time. This jitters that literally enveloped him from head to toe. A sense of fear, uncertainty, and nervousness filled his mind, making it difficult to think rationally.

His hands were sweating, and he began to shake in a slight tremor. He pressed his lips together, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

The only thing that gave him hope and comfort was the belief in what their celebration with Andy would be like today. He thought for a long time and finally realized in his life that the most important step in his life was to marry the girl he loved, which aroused in him the most beautiful and wonderful feelings on earth, expressing love and care. He would protect her.

He took a few sharp breaths, giving his heart time to calm down and stop pounding in his head. On his chest, on the suit, was sewn a small pocket, which at the moment was the most intimate and most sensual thing in the world. Ring. A ring that men give when they get engaged.

The guy exhaled sharply, turning to face his beloved, who was looking at him with an encouraging and encouraging look, as if calling for him to calm down and begin to cope with his difficult feelings. Squeezing his shoulder tightly, as if to show support, Andy smiled at him, and he just nodded at her.

"Hank, Andy!" A gruff voice is suddenly heard calling out to Williams. It doesn't take him long to realize that it's Fred. Smiling a tight smile, showing that he is supposedly not afraid of anything, the guy shifts the guitar case to the other hand and shakes the producer's offered hand. "How are you?"

"Not bad," Andy replies with a shrug, to which Hank is surprised, not understanding why she remains calm and not overwhelmed by excitement. Rose just chuckles at the comment.

"Don't worry, they may kill you, but they won't eat you," the man tries to defuse the tension by straightening his dark tie.

"It's comforting," Hank smiles, looking toward the stage. The stage on which he will perform. The stage on which his whole future uncertain fate will be decided.

"I'm very proud of you, Hank. I'm saying this as your friend, " Fred looks at his friend again, trying to express his support. Hank just looks at Miles, who is looking around the backstage area with a certain calmness and intensity. However, there is also a small, barely noticeable difference in her gaze... was it contempt?

"You can handle it, Hank," Andy looks around at the ceiling and turns his attention back to his dear friend with a slight grin. Williams pursed his lip again, feeling his palms begin to shake again with a slight tremor. She supports him. He exhaled. How nice to hear the support and dear words from a loved one.

"Thank you."

Everything that was happening was a blur to him. His brain still could not accept the information that he was worthy of and finally in his life got what he so ardently and long desired. He will finally get the recognition that he was striving for and then he will have one desire, or more correctly, it will be called a goal that he will need to achieve.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a guest of honor today and this is his first appearance on the Grand Ole Opry show," were the words of the announcer introducing Hank, and he knew that a lump had settled in his throat. He was afraid to sing. It was scary to get censured by people. It was scary to hear their arguments and opinions that he was a bad singer. "Let's welcome the guy who performed Lovesick Blues-Mr. Hank Williams!" He was not impressed by the joyful intonation of his voice and at the moment when he went on stage with a guitar that his mother gave him for his birthday, he was only interested in seeing Andy.

It was important for him to see her and understand that there was no need to worry. That she would be happy to support him and reassure him. That she would just be there to warm and protect his thoughts.

The applause was unexpected.

Williams was aware of the fact that the greeting of a new member of the show was always accompanied by applause, but it was still very pleasant and made him fall into confusion and let his head think that he was worth something.

The instant light blinded him. His lips trembled, and his knees buckled. Williams ' gaze darted to Andy, who only nodded at him, giving him a hopeful look at his moment of doubt in front of an audience that expected a great performance from him.

He gave her a soft smile of gratitude.

"Hi, I'm Hank Williams," he mumbled into the microphone that reverberated through the room, and he reached down to his guitar, running his fingers over it, caressing the strings, and wanting to draw the audience's attention to him. "Guys, turn it on," referring to the band with whom he had previously played the song.

His forehead was sweating and a drop of sweat ran down it. He swallowed and took a rare breath, touched the string again, and closed his eyes, hoping only that he would be received appropriately.

"I got a feelin' called the blues, oh Lords,

Since my baby said goodbye."

The only thing that warmed him with hope and calmed him down was his beloved, who was always ready to show support.

***

He just couldn't believe it. His brain couldn't process everything that had happened a few minutes ago. People took it well and were really inspired and enthusiastic. It was so unreal that he didn't want to think of it as real. It was probably just a dream that wouldn't happen again, but that he would remember for the rest of his life.

Hank couldn't stop smiling. He was so impressed that he felt over the moon when he heard the audience applauding and shouting the words he wanted.

Standing in the backstage area, which was lit by small lights, he just kept his eyes closed, arriving in voluptuous bliss.

"You were amazing, Hank," said a voice he'd known and loved for a long time. He glanced at Andy, who was standing next to him, watching him with a smile that was very often seen on her face.

Williams took a deep breath, grabbing the girl's hand and squeezing it lightly. He looked straight into her eyes, feeling that this was the moment that should have been years ago. The moment when they finally admit to each other in immeasurable love and live "happily ever after". No quarrels, no bickering, no problems. They will be a real family.

His free hand reached into his sewn-on pocket, taking out the small ring he had been searching for for a long time, but which at the moment was the most secret for him and his future wife.

He didn't care that people were looking at them. I don't give a damn. The main thing is that they will finally be reunited.

"You..." He really didn't know what to say, even apart from the fact that he had been preparing for this event for a long time, constantly rehearsing how he would confess. He wanted to express his love in an unimaginable confession, but words just weren't enough. My heart began to beat even faster. "Will you share the burden of life with me? Will you let me be your legal husband by putting this ring on your finger?"

His eyes full of hope were reflected in her eyes, which were full of incomprehension and fear.

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Return Her pt. 1

The Company (and friends) x Reader

Not being from Middle Earth has brought you some amazing moments, but this should’ve been expected.

You knew going into Mirkwood after Gandalf’s warnings was a horrible idea, but for some reason you didn’t think to stay behind. 

First everyone went nuts, yourself included (you could barely remember your own name at some points, it was ridiculous). Then there were the spiders, thankfully you got to avoid being webbed up by those disgusting arachnids but you got lost on your way to help.

By some luck you found everyone while they were attempting to leave their confines of the webbing, but then the spiders came back so your luck didn’t feel so good anymore. 

You guys kill a bunch, Kili gets separated… oh, and there is also the elves who are speaking in their own tongue.

The blond elf who appeared to be the leader of this merry group of losers was talking about one of the swords you all acquired after everyone was searched (the only thing they found on you was a small weapon and your backpack from home, also a smack to the hand that was frisking you) when he noticed you. 

The male elf mouthing off to Thorin stops his little liar thief speech abruptly though when his eyes fall on you and your strange clothes and weird colorful backpack held by the elf who searched you.

“You. Come here.“ 

Uh oh.

Simply staring at him dumbly for a few moments, you turn your head from side to side and then point at yourself. “M-Me?”

He nods his head once, annoyance and a trace of amusement showing on his face. You twiddle your thumbs together and shrug your shoulders, taking a step forward only for a large hand to pull you back, “What do you want with her, pointy eared freak!” Hisses Dwalin next to you

The elf says nothing and continues to stare you down. 

Everyone is looking between the two of you at this point, and you begin to feel that all to familiar mixture of anxiousness and awkwardness creeping up on you. “Um… I’d rather not…”

He still stares, as if he’s looking into your very soul. “I will not repeat myself.” Now he just looks annoyed. 

You huff indignantly and shake Dwalin’s hand off your shoulder, “Fine! Whatever.”

You shuffle over awkwardly, ignoring the protesting of some of the others as you go to stand next to Thorin and in front of him.

His intense blue eyes drill holes into you as he sizes you up, “An odd human girl with 13 dwarves. Clothes I’ve never seen before and a bag that is otherworldly. Interesting.” You do your best to hold his gaze, keeping your face as blank as possible.

“That isn’t any of your concern.” Thorin states next to you, but the elf still doesn’t turn his leer from you.

So what do you do?

What you do best. 

“Is that a dagger in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Your expression doesn’t change as you say this, face remaining neutral as he falters.

Ding ding, Y/N 1, this guy 0.

“Excuse me?” He looks to be shocked by what you say, but you only shrug your shoulders as some of the others behind you laugh. 

But your witty victory is short lived because now everyone is being hauled off to some elf kingdom where you’re sure Santa must live.

When you go to rejoin the others though, the blond elf puts a hand on your shoulder and states in a demanding tone, “You stay with me.”

Thorin turns quickly upon hearing that, “Leave her be, elf! She is one of us, and she will remain by our sides.” Some of the others shout their agreement. 

The elf doesn’t listen. 

And thats how you end up trailing behind the tall elf right in front of you while some of the others (Thorin, Fili, Dwalin, some others) look back to make sure you’re still there from time to time.

It warms your little ole heart! If only you weren’t all being led to imprisonment that is.

When the elf palace (you aren’t quite sure what else to call it) comes into view, it takes your breath away. Yeah, these guys are kinda assholes, but the architecture is astounding! 

You couldn’t keep the awe from showing on your face, and when the elf glances back at you he chuckles. “Never seen an elvish structure before?”

You saw Rivendell which was also lovely, but they’re both beautiful in their own ways you suppose.

Yeah this guy is the enemy, but you just can’t keep yourself from mumbling how stunning it all is. He laughs again, seemingly a bit more friendly towards you than your dwarven companions, and continued on his way. 

Upon entering the structure, you find that the outside is not nearly as awe-inspiring as the inside though.

The twisting trees and twinkling lights inside mesmerize you. It’s so grand, you almost forget that these elves are basically abducting you from your company by keeping you separated so far from them.

Your eyes fall upon the red-headed elf who helped out Kili, and your mouth runs before you can stop it. “Woah, shes freaking gorgeous." 

At your sudden speech the blond male elf guy looks down at you with confusion, his eyebrows knitted together. "What?" 

"Er, your friend over there is really pretty.” You restate, looking away as a flush darkens your face. 

He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before said she-eld falls into step with you and the blond.

She says something in that Elvish language of theirs and looks down at you, and once again you speak before thinking. 

“Excuse me, do you have a map? Because I’m afraid I’ve gotten lost in your eyes.” It’s cheesy where you’re from, but here you’re a damn poetic genius. 

Her face tints red at your words and she looks up at the blond guy briefly before looking at you again, “I-I’m sorry?" 

"Oh, forgive me that was so forward. I just can’t help myself around someone so lovely.” Yeah, you’re laying it on thick, and it seems to be working in your favor pretty well cause she’s blushing and- oh, is that flattery you see?

“I don’t think I’ve ever been addressed in such a way…” She states breathlessly, looking at Mr. Blond again. 

“How is that possible? My dear you have got to be the most beautiful-" 

"Y/N!” Thorin states sharply, looking at you completely baffled (and he’s not the only one).

A pout comes to your face at the one word scolding, but you get the hint. “Man… Freaking Thorin…" 

You look straight ahead and ignore the glares and confusion from your friends, crossing your arms over your chest as you continue to walk along silently. 

"What a cute little thing.” She comments after a moment of observing your sulky form, reaching down to ruffle your hair. And, embarrassingly enough, you find yourself leaning into her touch slightly.

Hell yeah, this bitch is in. Maybe too much…

Yeah she actually is drop dead gorgeous, but you’ve gotta get these fools trust so you can crush them later. It’s essential to your 45 step escape plan. 

“Me?” You ask, actually feeling a bit nervous to be getting as good as you gave. “C-Cute?" 

There’s no time to answer verbally, because suddenly they split the group into Thorin, and everyone else, but you can see from their faces that it was meant to be taken seriously. You remain standing with the elves, a bit shy and confused as to why you haven’t been led to the others yet. 

Some of them give you looks of concern, but you only flash bright smiles each time you make eye contact with someone. You can tell a few of them are annoyed with your lack of fear for the situation, but you hold onto the hope that Thorin will use his brain.

You break away from the elves and begin to follow after where the majority of the group is headed, but a firm hand landing on your shoulder stops you in place.

Glancing up at the blond elf, he only shakes his head, "You will go with him”, he nods his head over to Thorin.

The confusion shows clearly on your face, but you listen regardless and change your course as you join the leader of the group. 

When you step up beside him, he looks at you with deep set confusion, “Why are you not with the others?" 

All you do is shrug in response. 

And then the two of you are being brought before the king.

At least that’s what the blond elf said because all you see is a woman on a chair- 

Oh, wait. No, no, that is the King. 

Turns out, you’re quite the jokester because you make yourself laugh with this line of thinking which earns you a sharp look from Thorin and two pairs of confused elf eyes on you.

You clamp your mouth shut and shrug your shoulders again, and then you and Thorin are being left with the elf king.

When he gets up from his chair you’re shocked by how tall he is. Even the other elf who was bossing you around doesn’t reach the height that he does. 

When he begins to talk to Thorin about things you care little for, your gaze wanders away to view the lovely scene before you. The structure of this place is simply amazing. There is nothing like this from your home, all you had were huge neighborhoods, strip malls, and google images that provided you with things not even half as pretty as this. 

While you gaze around someone clears their throat which effectively breaks you out of your little trance.

You turn your attention back towards Thorin and the large (and very pretty) elf quee-king.

Much to your dismay they’re both staring at you expectantly.

You blink your eyes a few times and stare dumbly as you rack your brain for any clue as to what just occurred, but you only draw a blank. "Um… ‘sup?” Thats all you could come up with? Really? 

You mentally berate yourself for not paying attention, but it only seems to amuse the blond guy. “Interesting. You are not from here, are you?” He asks curiously. Thorin’s expression is sharp, and your eyes lock on him for a moment because you don’t know how much to reveal.

He shakes his head. 

“Well obviously not. I’m a human. Have you not seen my ears? Or my height? Or anything?” Your sarcasm earns a snort of amusement from Thorin, but it seems that the king only found your sarcasm funny as well.

“You know what I mean. And the look you two shared only answers my question for me.”

You release a long and over dramatic sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well.. It’s not your business where I’m from. So stop being lame and let us leave." 

He stopped listening though and turned back to Thorin, "Where did you find such a person? Because I can most definitely tell that she is not from Middle Earth.”

Thorin only turns his head away and responds to something else probably stated while you were busy. He starts ranting about abandonment and how he wasn’t helped. He yells something in one of their languages, and then Thranduil is all up in his face.

“Do not talk to me of dragon fire! I know… its wrath and ruin.” The king makes a weird face and you find yourself become uncomfortable as his face warps and reveals horribly scarred skin.

“I have faced… the great serpents of the North.” He then steps back and stops leaning over as his skin quickly returns to normal. “I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon. But he would not listen. You are just like him.”

Two guards seize him suddenly and you protest loudly, “Hey! Leave him alone!” You only get ignored.

“Stay here if you will… and rot.” They start dragging him down the stairs and you move to follow after, but the booming voice of King Thranduil stops you. “Not you. You stay where you are." 

Thorin yells at him in his tongue, then yells out in an outrage, "She comes with me!” He only gets hauled further away as you look between him and the blond elf who is standing at the steps to his throne.

You take a few steps forward towards where Thorin is being dragged off to, but your arm is grabbed and yanked back towards him harshly. 

The king under the mountain continues to rage on until he disappears out of your sight, the hand on your arm not releasing you even after he is gone. 

You turn a glare up at the king and snatch your arm away, “What do you want? I have nothing to say to you!”

He only smooths his robes back down and steps away. "You and I have much to discuss…“ 

Thorin regains his composure long before he reaches the dungeon down below, not wanting to alert his company of his obvious distress. Though he does brood more than usual and the constant scowl on his features immediately worries those looking upon him. 

"Where’s Y/N?” Is the first thing he hears after he’s shoved into his own cell. He looks over towards the area the question came from and sees Kili standing there with his hands on the bars. 

“That pointy eared pixie wouldn’t let her come here with me.”

Someone exclaims their anger loudly in a cell not far from his, but he only continues. “That elvish garbage refused to let her come with me, and when she tried to follow he grabbed her arm as if he had any right-!” He cuts himself off and sits down, hands clenched into fists as he thinks about it.

The others yell out their own anger at that, and then Ori speaks up softly, “What does he want with ‘er? She’s only a human…" 

Balin speaks up next, "Does he want to know about where she’s from…? Perhaps that be the reason right there! She speaks oddly and her clothes are suspicious”

Nobody wanted to even think about that. If you refused to give them the answers they wanted, what would they do? 

Everyone is undoubtedly sharing the same dark and worrying thoughts. 

“Mahal…" 

They all understand the feeling.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Love Songs

As requested by @dyingforkpop  I hope you enjoy!

(Also this is super poetic cause I was listening to Spoken Word when I started writing it.)

Master List

~~

The glow emitted by the strands of Christmas lights is dim, giving you only enough light to see, but accompanied by the neon Rose hanging behind his black couch, and the piercing gaze of his computer, your world is illuminated perfectly. This studio is not your world, you are only its welcome guest, but the boy sitting beside you, he is another story entirely. 

Kim Woosung was beautiful, even in this low lighting. He invited you here, to his world, to teach you its ways, to bring you closer, to understand his love of music, but you find yourself too busy memorizing his features at this moment to listen. His face is a maze of shadows, harsh angles thrown against his tanned skin from the myriad of light sources surrounding you both. His lips, no the way they move to form the words your brain is too preoccupied to understand, have you utterly entranced. Even his hair, which had become a tornado of gravity-defying locks from all the times he had run his fingers through them, was mesmerizing. He was too captivating, how could one person be so beautiful, and handsome, and intelligent and funny, while still being so genuine and kind, while somehow also being dense as a brick wall. 

Couldn’t he just kiss you already?

“Kim Woosung, I am going to be honest with you, I haven’t been listening.”  Your confession is given with a sigh, and your body listing away from him in the swivel chair. 

“I know, I started talking about an apple pie I had in California like five minutes ago.” You spin back to face him, shock blatant on your face, and the studio fills with the peals of your laughter mere seconds later. 

“I’m sorry, I really did want to learn from you.” Your apology is accompanied by the softest smile you can muster and met with one of his own as he shakes his head. 

“It’s fine, I was boring myself, it's no wonder you zoned out.” 

“You weren’t boring me, I promise.” You assure him. His grin expands, eyebrow rising slightly, and you have to clench your fist tightly to stop yourself from lunging forward and kissing the look off his face. 

“So what has you so distracted then?” 

“Your stupidly handsome face.” His face flushes at your bold words, and you offer them with a teasing tone to perhaps make them more palatable. 

“Why do you always flirt with me?” He whines, hiding his face in his hands. 

“Cause I like you, and you haven’t told me to stop.” His brown eyes shine when they peek from between his fingers, and for a moment you worry that perhaps you’ve gone too far. “I will if you want me to, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to be around you if I can’t flirt with you.” 

“You don’t have to stop.” His mumbles barely reach your ears, but you can’t stop yourself from teasing him anyway. Just wanting to draw it out, hear him say it again, as though it was a confession and not simply a kind gesture. 

“I’m sorry, say that again?”

“You don’t have to stop.” He’s barely louder, and you wonder how many more times he will say it before you’re satisfied. 

“Still so quiet, I can’t hear you.” His back straightens this time, and again, you worry you have gone too far, but his words that erupt from his lips have you speechless instead.

“I said you don’t have to stop.” His eyes, the darkness illuminated by the lights enveloping you, bore into yours, stopping your heart for a brief instant as you figure your next move. 

“Oh?” It becomes a challenge to discover what is too much to tell him, “So you don’t mind if I tell you I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. That you’re hotter than any boyfriend I’ve ever had. That your voice melts my heart and my panties.” 

“Oh my god, stop.” His laughter brings a smile to your face, even as the shade of red staining his cheeks deepens. As he smiles at you, you realize, this is the perfect time, to be honest, and tell him what your heart really needs him to know. 

“That I’ve been in love with you since I met you four years ago.” You watch his eyes as you speak, abandoning the teasing tones you had carefully hidden behind as you instead blurt your feelings into the room. “That every time you cry I feel my own heart breaking. That loving you has been the only thing that gets me out of bed some days.” Every word lifts pressure from your chest, letting you breathe properly for the first time in what feels like forever. His face remains unreadable, and you fear you’ve been wrong in saying anything. “And I’m sorry to lay this all on you, I’m just really tired of holding it in.” The final words have only hung in the air for a few seconds, but your entire body is gripped with fear. As though struck by lightning, you jump from your seat, hands already gripping your coat as you run from his rejection. 

You didn’t even make it three steps from your chair before the creak of his resounded in the room and his warm hand was snaked around your wrist, begging you to stay without saying a word. 

“Four years, three months, and 6 days.” You turn back at his words, finding his eyes searching your face. “That’s how long we’ve known each other.” He tugs you toward him, pulling your jacket from your clenched fingers to lace his own into them. “All this time I thought you were joking.” His gaze shifts down, watching his own thumb as he tries to soothe your strained hand. “But I’ve been hoping this whole time that you meant it, or that you’d hear the songs and know they were about you.” Your heartbeat echoes in your own ears, and you’re sure he can hear it. You must be hallucinating, it was the only way this was happening. “What I’m trying to say is,” He finally drags his eyes back up to your own, the galaxy itself trapped within them. “I’ve been in love with you since the moment I heard you speak, I knew you were the only person I could ever spend my life with, I knew I needed you in my life, in whatever way I could get.” 

Your hands shake as you pull them from his grip, the tremors subsiding as you bring them up to cup his cheeks, the skin warm under your palms. 

“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is barely audible in the silent room, and for a split second, you wonder how far your delusion will go. 

When his lips press to yours, you’re finally sure this is real. In all the fantasies you had imagined, you were never sure what his lips felt like, but as you kiss back, you’re sure this is what heaven feels like. Your bodies move on their own, your hands moving down to the sides of his neck, and his wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. One kiss becomes two, and then three, and time fades into a haze until you’re finally having to pull away to breathe. 

“Go out with me? On a real date.” You haven’t moved from each other’s grip, heaving chests still pressed against one another and heads only the distance from one another it takes to allow the eyes to focus. 

“Of course.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay here?” His smile is mirrored on your lips, voice only a whisper. “At least for a little while?”

“You still have to teach me how to write music.” You remind him, “Or just play me your songs.”

“I can do that, and know I know how to get your attention.” Your question is answered before you can ask, as he presses his lips to yours again, and you realize, there is a love song hanging in his silent studio.

[howdoyoudothedew]

Another long SPN post

This time it’s notes from my WIPs. I never actually really wrote any of these, but tags and titles are included. Anyone can use these as starting points for a fanfic, have fun

Henry/Balthazar Summary: When Henry’s mentor, Benny, doesn’t return from the war Henry is saddened. He refuses to believe Benny died. Won’t even entertain it. On the way to find his missing mentor/father figure, he meets Balthazar. A strange man with a british accent and a habit of flirting with everyone, especially him. He finds Benny. He finds love. THen Balthazar tells him he’s from another time period and has to go. The last chapter is Balthazar saving Henry from Abaddon. Side note: Henry has blue eyes that Balthy apparently likes to wax poetic about Chapter One The day’s circled on his calendar. ‘Benny comes home’. That would be today. Or, it would’ve been. He had gotten the letter a week ago. ‘Benjamin Lafitte died in the war. We send our condolences.’ The letter, of course, wasn’t actually as cold and unfeeling as that. But it didn’t matter. Because it felt like that. It felt like someone had taken him and shoved him in an ice bath. He couldn’t believe the letter. He wouldn’t believe the letter. Benny had promised he’d live through this war. And if he had to find him, then by golly he’d find him. Even if he had to do it on his own. Henry snuck out of the bunker that night. A pack of food was the only thing he brought with him. That, and a picture of him and Benny. No one caught him on the way out. He knew the passages too well. He stole a bike from the garage, and left. There would be no note left in his absence. No trace of where he’d gone. Because if he’d left one, he worried that they’d try to find him. Find him and drag him back. But he couldn’t go back. Not now. Not without Benny. New section He’d been on the hunt for four days now. Had traveled from Lebanon, Kansas to Chattanooga, Tennessee and was slowly making his way to the Georgia coastline. His plan was to check coastal cities first. Then he’d work inwards till he covered all of the US. He only hoped Benny would return here and not go to another country. This is where he runs into Balthazar It’s when he’s asking a bartender if he’d ever seen Benny, while showing his picture Balthy comes up to him and says “Are you from around here, because you’re a perfect ten.”

----

Don't Make Bets With Love Goddesses Five chapters Alternative meeting, canon divergent, Gabriel is Loki, Aphro has her son arrow multiple people, but Gabe bypasses them all “You cheated!” “That never seemed to matter to you before, now how did I cheat?” “Eros shot Sam with an arrow!” “My son’s arrow never touched the Winchester.” Everyone has what the humans would call a ‘soulmate’, not everyone finds them and they're not always romantic. It looks like Gabe found his, though.

Chapter One Explains how Loki has messed around, yet has never fallen in love “I will never fall in love” the Norse god boasted. He was talking out of his ass, and Aphrodite knew it. Loki bets Aphrodite that he will never fall in love She accepts with a wicked twinkle in her eye Aphro has never been able to pass up bets, especially when they deal with love He was close once, with Kali, but it ultimately fell flat It didn’t even actually fall flat with Gabe, but with Kali who could sense his growing attachment and cut off their involvement before it could happen. They had made a promise to each other that their thing would remain ‘no strings attached’. Then years where nothing happens

Chapter Two Sam enters the scene He’s tall and handsome; funny, sarcastic, witty. And he’s one of the only people Gabe has ever met that won’t take his crap. That will see right through it. Gabriel vows right then and there that he won’t fall in love with Sam.

----

Different Circumstances Summary: Where the first meeting isn't of a boy with demon blood and an archangel, hidden as a trickster god, disguised as a janitor. Nor is the second meeting, or the third, or even the fifth. Until suddenly it is and the world seems just that much more messed up. Six chapters Tags: Canon divergent, Canon universe, 5 + 1 format, fluff, angst

Chapter One High school Gabe is the ‘bad kid’ They bond over pranks, and Gabe teaches Sam a few tricks

Chapter Six Sam connects all the dots and realizes the few people he had met in his life, the ones other than Jess that he had clicked with on automatic, were all the same person. Where all the trickster, Loki the god of mischief, and Gabriel the messenger of God. He hadn’t even clicked with Jess as quickly as he had seemed to click with each and every version of Gabe he had met. And now he was gone.

----

To Heal A Soul Summary: Castiel isn't the only angel who tried to save Sam Winchester from the Cage. But while Castiel got a body, the other found only a soul. Tiny and broken, frayed at the edges, yet still somehow alive curled up in the corner of the Cage. Gabe keeps and heals Sam’s soul until he feels that it could be replaced with minimum consequences, when he does replace it there is still a battle. Gabe can’t help him with this battle, none of Team Free Will can. Gabe's dog is Max Chapter One Gabe gets Sam’s soul, just his soul, from the Cage because he knows what’ll happen if he puts his soul back in his body after Lucifer had ripped it out Sam gets a different… form type thing. Like, I don’t know Gabe uses pagan magic to give Sam a body like his own Explains to Sam the situation

----

Stacy’s Dad (Lafittz) Tags: help me for i know not what im doing, i love this song and had to do this though, babysitter!garth, single father!benny, female teen oc, benny is older than garth by a few years, dilf!Benny, Notes: I'm sorry for the dilf tag, but I thought of it and it was too funny to me to not include it. Garth’s turned twenty a day ago, and is babysitting Benny’s kid (she’s twelve, so it’s not exactly babysitting) Benny’s thirty (his wife and him had Stacy when they were eighteen, they married right out of high school) Garth asks Benny out, saying that he promised him when he was eleven he’d go out with him when he turned twenty Stacy and Garth go to the pool, where Benny may work as a lifeguard Or, Stacy met Garth during her freshman year and they hit it off immediately as friends But Stacy liked Garth, and when he met Stacy’s dad it was practically love at first sight. (Because he's mushy like that) Or Benny and Andrea had her at sixteen, and Benny was estatic. Sure, it was early and he wasn't sure if he was ready, but he'd be damned if he didn't try to be a good father.

----

Scarecrow Summary: Remake where Cas is a “hunter” who Dean picks up on the way to ----, he's working the same case and they decide to pretend to be a couple to solve it. Also, instead of Meg, Sam runs into Gabriel because he picks him up on the road before he got to Meg. Sam’s part is inspired in part by the honeythief amv. Tags: s01e11 Scarecrow, rewrite, i tried, canon divergent, canon hopping, beginning unchanged, fake/pretend relationship, bonding(????) Dean picks up Cas either along the road (a parallel of their brothers) or at the food place he and Sammy split A man slid into the seat Sam had vacated, black hair Dean could only describe as bedroom hair, piercing blue eyes, and a trenchcoat. “So you're going after the missing couples, too?” The other couple isn't there, instead the people there immediately assume they're a couple Cas immediately goes with it and when Dean asks about it later he simply shrugs and explains that this job seemed to require some falsehood

---- Short ficlet where they find Narnia. “I thought you'd already been to Narnia given how deep inside the closet you are,” Gabriel joked.

----

Sabriel Anniversary Sam: Gabriel, I figured we could go where I first fell in love with you. Gabriel: Sam, I'd rather not… Sam: Why not? Gabriel: I have bad memories there. Sam, in surprise: Bad memories? I mean , sure we tried to kill you Gabriel: Lucifer killed me. Sam: Oh… Oh! You were thinking Elysian Fields? I meant Crawford Hall! Gabriel: What? Sam nervously rubs the back of his neck while looking away: Yeah… Could never really get you out of my head after that. *looks back at him* Even when I really wanted to. ----

Everytime they find Gabriel again, Sam wants to ask Gabriel to help. He wants him to stay. Though he tells himself it's not for him, but the world. But then they leave him behind in that ring of holy fire. And he… dies. At the hands of Lucifer. Sam thinks that's it. But then he shows up again, only to save him and leave him. (But it wasn't just him- it was Castiel as well, he has to remind himself for the next few weeks till it sticks.) So this time Sam swallows everything down, and he tells himself it's okay. Gabriel would've never stayed. And that's fine. Then Gabriel's back again, and he finally agrees to be on their team. He finally agrees to simply stay, even if it isn't for him. So of course he has to die all over again. ----

A rebound. Gabriel knows that's exactly what this is. After knowing Sam for all these years, he can read him. Read him easier than he can read himself. Heck, he knew Jess and Sam’d date the second he saw them together. And just as he knew, a month later they were dating. So yeah, Gabriel knew how to read Sam and how he felt about others. Romantic feelings just weren't there for him. Sure, Sam sounded sincere. He truly believed he liked Gabriel, and Gabriel knew that. But he knew his best friend and he knew the feelings were just his body’s half-assed attempt at fixing whatever hole Jess had left him with that he refused to recognize.

“I'm not ready.” It's not a lie. Gabriel isn't ready to date anyone, even if he loves Sam with all his heart. But he refused to be a rebound. He told the girlfriend Sam has before Jess- Ruby- as much when she gave him her twisted blessing after Sam broke up with her. If Sam knew that's what he was looking for in Gabriel, it would crush him. The poor kid would feel terrible, and Gabriel knows it. That is something he won't allow. Sam deserved happiness, but it couldn't be with him. Not now. Maybe not ever.

---- Crime Cleaners crime scene cleaners sam and dean who get roped into something well above their paygrade by two particular Novaks, possible villain being Luci and Lilith, who is his 'queen' they definitely get help from their friend Bobby and the Novak's friends Charlie, Rowena, and Rowena's girlfriend, the coroner Billie Or, serial killers God and his Righteous Man, who are secretly Dean and Cas. Gabe and Sam are the ones trying to find them.

----

John Winchester and Chuck Shurley meet the parents thing. John first meets Cas, and Dean explains that Cas is his husband. Then he meets Gabriel, Sam’s bondmate-husband- and an archangel. When he mentions how weird this is, Gabriel is the one who points out that “If you think it's weird that your son in laws are angels, just remember that their father in law is literally God.”

----

Normal au, Gabriel shows up out of nowhere because he has to do a blood sugar test to check for diabetes or some shit and he just grabs Sam: “I need your blood.”

[pax-2735]

Got Fanfic: Come Into My Parlor (1/3)

Notes: As per usual, I own nothing except the mistakes. This is Jon/Sansa, in case the picture didn’t give it away.

Summary:  When Sansa goes to the Targaryen’s annual Halloween bash, the last thing she expected was to come face to face with her demons.

Come Into My Parlor

This has got to be the Halloween from hell, Sansa thinks, even as the strangeness of that sentence strikes her over the head like a meat cleaver. Mostly like a cheap, plastic one like those she has been seeing adorning the heads of half the people in this stupid party but still. The analogy stands, as it’s the best one she can come up with at present.

Seriously though, what are the odds that not one, not two, but three of the world’s shittiest, most sorry excuses for mankind had ended up here, all holed up together in the middle of nowhere, with nothing better to do than to torment her very existence?

And yes, she´s painfully aware that the fact she has actually dated all three of them at some point in her life – some very deep, very low point in her life – doesn’t exactly paint her in the brightest of colors.

Sansa has always adored Halloween. Not so much the gruesome horror – although she likes a good scary movie and is not about to scream her lungs out if she happens to see a spider or a bat, no, that’s much more Robb’s thing – but mostly the part about dressing up. It had always been her favorite, ever since she was a little girl and her mother would make her the most amazing princess dresses.

Assuredly, her costumes have certainly graduated from ankle length ballroom gowns into decidedly slinkier, sexier outfits, but the feeling of slipping into someone else’s skin and be a completely different person for a little while is still pretty much the same. She’s still convinced the world lost its most astonishing actress the day real life and bills to pay pushed her into a very exciting career as an administrative assistant.

And so, as it stands to reason, the annual Halloween bash hosted by the Targaryens was evidently a no-miss. Even if this year they had decided to host the damn thing at Harrenhal.

As choices go, it was certainly appropriate. The ancient mansion had been abandoned for decades before Rhaegar Targaryen had bought it, determined to bring it back to its previous glory. It’s just that its previous glory included a series of skin prickling stories, ranging from the serial killer who lured his victims inside its cavernous halls to the satanic cults who performed blood sacrifices on its lush gardens.

Of course, no one knew for sure if any of those stories were true. And the fact that it was widely said that the mansion was truly and well haunted by the souls of all those who had perished there, well… that just made it perfect for this whole shindig. Except for the fact it was totally out of the way and it had taken her and Robb ages to get there.

The party had already been in full swing by the time they had gotten there, which in true Targaryen fashion meant that copious amounts of alcohol were being consumed, half the people were already barely coherent, and the music was blaring to the point it would most likely kill the other half soon enough.

Her brother had disappeared almost as soon as they had walked through the door, making a beeline for the drinks or the pretty girl currently pouring them. Sansa didn’t really care which because, exactly twenty seconds later, she had spotted him. Even worse, he had spotted her right back.

Enter asshole number one.

Joffrey Baratheon had been her golden prince during her teenager years. She was fifteen when they had first met and she had been instantly in love. He was the jock to her princess, the Romeo to her Juliet, and a whole bunch of other bullshit she had waxed poetics about at the height of her infatuation.

Unfortunately, as she had rather painfully learned soon after, Joffrey was anything but.

He made his way towards her with a smirk on his lips and stopped right in front of her, blocking any chance of escape. Sansa bristled at his nerve.

“Sansa.” His eyes gave her a once over before settling on her face. It was his trade mark during their relationship, the way he would lock eyes with her, forcing her to cast hers down. “How are you?”

She kept her eyes trained on his face as she heard her mother’s lilting voice in her head. A lady’s armor is her courtesy. She pictured her aunt Lysa, the poised way she had stood when her husband had been arrested for molesting a child, the way she had maintained her composure even when he had gone insane during his trial, screaming about the voices inside his cell telling him all about the horrible ways he was going to die.

(Sansa hadn’t felt pity then – she could still recall the way he liked to kiss her when greeting her, always touching her face or her lower back, his hands wandering over places they had no business wandering over. Petyr Baelish was never inappropriate enough to warrant saying anything to anyone but it was certainly more than enough to make her skin crawl.)

So yes, she comes from a long line of strong women. Strong, polite women, who know how to keep their cool in the face of utter sleaze bags. And Sansa Stark is certainly not one to disappoint so, when her eyes finally moved from Joffrey’s smug face to give him a rather pointed once over before saying, “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” in a very snickery tone, she felt rather proud of herself.

She felt even better when he spluttered, drops from his drink landing on his black doublet. Yes, she’s not fifteen anymore and it’s high time he learned that.

“I’m Aegon the Conqueror. You would know that if you weren’t so stupid.”

She raised an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side in mock disbelief. “Isn’t that kinda tacky? Usurping the ancestors of the family who’s hosting the party?”

Joffrey narrowed his eyes in a move that used to make him look dark and mysterious back in the day but right now, it just made him look dangerous. Still, she repeated to herself, I’m not fifteen anymore you prick.

Her eyes wandered across the room, not-so-secretly plotting ways to escape, until they suddenly locked with a par of stormy grey, lurking in the back. Jon Snow. No, Jon Targaryen now. Keep up with the times.

Robb’s best friend since the first day of school and good boy extraordinaire, Jon had been a permanent fixture in the Stark household ever since. He had been raised by his single mother, Lyanna Snow having decided she wanted nothing to do with the boy’s father after having discovered he suffered from a permanent and very severe case of marriage-with-children.

Lyanna had died when Jon was in his teens and he had been sent to live with his estranged father. Rhaegar’s wife hadn’t exactly been too thrilled to discover her husband’s indiscretions but Elia Martell was not one to punish the child for his father’s crimes, and had instead turned the brunt of her anger towards her husband. It was a point of constant amusement amongst the highborn ladies of the city how Rhaegar had gone from having an affair with a woman who borne him a bastard to becoming a potential contender in the husband-of-the-year award.

Jon was staring at her with a concerned look on his handsome face and even though the music was too loud and they were too far away, she could almost hear his teeth grinding from how tightly his jaw was clenched. He gave a slight nod towards Joffrey, his body poised like a panther ready to pounce and she knew he was about to come over and put a stop to whatever the fuck this was.

Once again for the people in the back. I’m not fucking fifteen anymore. She gave him a slight shake of her head and saw his face furrow. He looked completely unconvinced by this turn of events but, to his credit, had stayed put.

Sansa took a dainty sip of her drink, her eyes still training about the milling people, before she paused. The drink tasted… funny. It wasn’t unpleasant, no. Just… different from what she’d expected. Her heart raced as she panicked for a second. Had Joffrey slipped something into her glass?

Just as quickly as that thought entered her head, she chased it out. That wasn’t possible, Margaery had given her the drink before she had even stepped through the massive oak doors and she hadn’t let go of it since. Joffrey was a lot of things but smooth wasn’t one of them; there was no way he could have done something while she was still clutching the glass to her chest.

Very carefully Sansa took another sip. It tasted fine. It wasn’t what she had been expecting, the taste far richer and smoother than what she was normally used to drink, but then again she wasn’t expecting the Targaryens to serve cheap liquor at one of their parties. She seriously doubted they even knew where to buy cheap… anything, for that matter.

It was probably just the company that had soured her taste buds.

Joffrey was still talking, about the party and the Targaryens and stupid cunts who got invited just so they could spread their legs to them later on, and Sansa was quite frankly fed up with it. “You know what? Go bother someone else for a change.” She started to turn away, ready to bask in her victory and enjoy the evening.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me bitch.” His voice was low and hissing and Sansa startled, although not at the venom dripping from it. She dropped her eyes to her wrist and then to his hands, furiously clenched at his sides. Fifteen years ago, those hands would have been wrapped around her wrists, gripping them so tightly she would have worn the marks for weeks to follow.

His face was red and clammy and she could see sweat gathering on his forehead as she looked back into his eyes. “Not so though now that you don’t have your friends here to back you up, are you?”

She didn’t wait for his answer. Sidestepping him, she quickly made her way into the throngs of people milling about, putting as much distance between herself and Joffrey as she could.

The music was getting even louder as she approached the dance floor. The lights were almost blinding, flashing in an orgy of red, blues and greens, and she could feel the thumping beat against her ribcage as Loras Tyrell suddenly appeared in front of her. With a joyous smile and a quick peck to her cheek, Sansa was pulled into the midst of dancers, where Renly Baratheon was already doing what she was certain was supposed to pass as dancing.

“Hey there birthday girl.” Renly was swaying, his brown locks plastered to his forehead and he gave her a cheeky grin.

“My birthday isn’t until tomorrow.”

“It’s almost midnight isn’t it?”

Sansa smiled and leaned closer to yell in his ear. “Renly it’s only nine.”

He winked at her before chugging down on more of his whiskey. “Never too early to celebrate.”

She laughed as all three clinked their glasses in a toast, and soon she was losing herself in the beat of the music. Sansa closed her eyes, smiling, as she let the sounds of the party carry her away.

Three songs later, someone came barreling in on their little piece of heaven, frantically calling for Renly. She watched in concern as his face lost his normally joyous expression and was gradually replaced with worry.

“What’s going on?” she yelled at Loras, who was already moving in on Renly, an arm carefully draped around his shoulders.

“Joffrey’s having some sort of allergic reaction or some shit. We need to take him to a hospital.”

Sansa moved forward, squeezing Renly into a tight hug. She didn’t say anything and Renly smiled sadly at her in understanding. The only thing she was sorry about was that she couldn’t really say she was sorry.

[space-whalesharks]

@argetlam007 requested: “I'd love to read something containing a hurt John and a worried/protective FemDeputy :) In which maybe he gets shot, or I don't know, maybe she's the one who hurt him accidentally or on purpose...”

Rescue Me, Part 1

A shootout goes wrong when the Peggies are pursuing Rook, and John gets caught in the crossfire and left for dead- with only Rook left around to help him. 

Rook realized seconds too late that she should’ve taken a sharp right at the last path and gone to the Rail Yard instead of running right along the shore between regions. There would’ve been a greater chance of losing her pursuers in among the abandoned trains and platforms. 

But no. She had to go and do the stupid thing. Like she always did. 

Such as stealing Affirmation and using it to take out Joseph’s statue. 

To be fair, it was funny at the time. And she loved the irony. 

John Seed for one didn’t, considering he was in the group chasing her this time. 

She could make out his voice clear above the others, screaming varying orders and encouragement that sounded more like threats of impending bodily harm if they failed to get her. 

So there they and three other Peggies were, darting from tree to tree exchanging gunfire. She had made it to the ‘Fancy Bridge’ as she had come to call it, with all the ‘Yes’ signs and plumes of fabric draped around. It was just a hundred foot stretch before she was in the River region and she was untouchable by John or his cronies. 

“WRATH!” 

Well, if that wasn’t some sort of vocalized challenge to face him, she didn’t know what was. Still, she had frozen for a second before she realized just how close he had sounded, and that had been her fatal flaw in the fight.

He was on her in a second, taking her down to the wooden slats with more strength than she would’ve thought he had.

She was quicker though. She turned over on the way down so the both of them got the brunt of the impact once they hit the wood, and then she started trying to reign as many punches on his chest as she could. She struggled to get her knees up enough to try to kick him off- propriety be damned, considering that arguably meant straddling him, and once she did she weaved her knee between their bodies and let it connect with his ribs hard. 

It was enough to get him to let go of her and fall back, and she took advantage of the moment. She scrambled to her feet, and then John charged again and she met him halfway. She barely missed him attempting to pistol whip her in the process. When that failed he tried to kick her feet out from under her. She countered by giving him a rough shove that ended with both of them reaching the edge of the bridge. 

He managed to get a proper swing at her and landed a punch on her cheek. She had gone to charge again when a couple of gunshots rang out just off to her right side. 

Rook froze and waited for a burning sensation or pain or anything, but none came. A moment later she found out why. 

John inhaled sharply, and Rook could just make out a red blotch steadily growing at his side, seeping through his shirt. 

They had shot him. One of the Peggies had shot their own Herald.  What the fuck. 

She turned back to the other three who were currently staring her way, looking absolutely startled. 

“What the Hell did you do?!” One demanded. 

“I was aiming for her!” the second protested. 

“Joseph’s gonna kill us,” the third provided. 

Rook gaped at them for a second, then stopped short when she heard a splash in the water. She turned briefly to see that John’s spot was vacant- but there were ripples in the water right where he would’ve been if he had stumbled backwards and over the edge. 

Shit. 

The exact sentiment was echoed by the Peggies, until the Third one looked thoughtful. “He won’t kill us if he thinks she did it.” He raised his gun and levelled it at her chest. 

Double shit. 

She drew her own and managed to beat him to pulling the trigger. Her bullet hit its mark between his eyes, and then she dispatched the other two quickly. She stood there panting for a few seconds until something in the back of her mind demanded that she go check where John had fallen over the edge. 

There were still ripples all around, and  there was a distinct red tint to the water around it. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.  Was that fall survivable? Survivable when you were already shot and potentially bleeding out? Could he have made it? Fuck no, there was no way. He was most likely dead now. There was something morbidly poetic about the fact that it had happened on the bridge that their technical first personal encounter happened on. He had sent her to the murky depths and potential doom months ago, and here she was, technically the reason he was taking his turn to sink to them. Opens at the close, her mind provided.  Guilt twisted her stomach for some ungodly reason, and suddenly those depths beckoned her like a siren’s call. Was she seriously considering jumping in? Was she considering saving him? The one who had tried to kill her and her friends and countless others? No, she was considering making sure he was dead, another part of her mind provided. She liked that part of her mind better. But it didn’t change the fact that she had seemed to make her decision. “Fucking hero complex…” she hissed to herself before she took a couple of steps back, took a running start at the edge of the bridge and dove. 

She was grateful the ordeal happened in the morning. If it had happened any later, she doubted she would’ve seen the blood trail marking John’s descent. She eventually found him, got as good of a grip on him as possible and made it back to the surface. 

Rook coughed and sputtered once she got to solid ground, then immediately regretted it when she realized that, out of the whole shore, she had picked the one spot where Bliss fumes were coming from somewhere. She held her breath and tried desperately to ignore her lungs burning in protest as she dragged John’s body further up the shore. 

He was dead weight, apparently out cold or worse.  She found a spot that was far enough from the Bliss and set him down. “John. John!” she nudged him. 

No response. And his chest wasn’t falling or rising with breath, either. 

She looked up, coincidentally straight at the big red cross someone had set up there. Right, because she needed that metaphor at that moment on top of everything. 

She looked back at John, and after debating for a few seconds, resigned herself to another decision she knew she would come to regret. She sidled up next to him and started chest compressions.  

Christ, she was doing CPR on John Seed. Today had shaped up to be bizarre. Seconds ticked by like hours, and when she was fairly confident she had gotten to thirty, she tilted his head back and started breaths. The STD jokes Sharky said at John’s expense nagged at her in the back of her mind but she tried to will them away. 

She repeated the process a couple of times before John’s head snapped up so he could cough up water. 

Rook had scrambled back to accommodate him. “There we go. Holy shit.” 

John blinked at her a couple of times. “...Wrath?” 

“Yeah, asshole, it’s-” she stopped short when his head fell back again and his eyes slipped shut. “John?! John!” 

He was out cold again, but at least he was breathing this time. She rolled onto her back. She reached for the radio at her belt, only to realize she had probably waterlogged the damn thing. She looked around. The one nearby checkpoint had been abandoned by whatever Peggies had been there. She wondered if they had seen him go down and scattered to the wind too, provided they had seen him hit the water. She made her way over to it. By some luck, they had left a radio behind. She switched to the Prison’s frequency. She let her thumb graze the talk button a number of times, contemplating what she was about to do. Was she really going to risk all she had built for one of the people who had set out to stop her? Just how far could her desire to help people and keep things as peaceful as possible. She swore under her breath and then pressed down.  “Sheriff, you there?” 

“Rook? That you?” came Earl’s response after a while. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I need a favor.” 

“You okay?” 

“I’m fine. Uh… someone else isn’t.” 

“What the Hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“I just…. Bring Doctor Lindsey, meet me at the campsite where the Pilgrimage starts.” 

“... …. … Now why the Hell would I do that?” 

The concern was gone from his voice, replaced by pure suspicion. Great. She had ruined everything and he didn’t even know all the details yet. She sighed. “Because with Faith gone it’s the only place that no one will be around, and… I need to keep this private. Tell Lindsey to bring his emergency bag, he might need to remove a bullet.  I’ll explain when you get here. Come alone, don’t tell anybody.” Well, that sounded entirely suspicious. “I’m still one of you guys, I would never do anything to harm you, I know how this sounds, just please.” she repeated. 

“... Okay. I’ll be there soon.” 

Probably with a shotgun pointed at her chest upon arrival. Damn it. She returned to John- still out cold and looking paler by the minute- then hopped up on the nearest rock. She could make out the roof of the visitor center if she strained enough on her tip-toes. He could make it dragging him behind her- it was just going to be a bitch to get to, and she’d be lucky if they didn’t run into trouble. She swore again, then took the backpack off her back. After wrestling with it for a while, she managed to get the parachute out, folded it up and tied it in the crudest attempt at a gurney she hoped she’d ever see, then pulled John onto it. The fact that he was dead weight did nothing to ease her nerves. “You don’t get to fucking die like this, you asshole.” 

The trek there felt like the longest travel time she had suffered in the county yet, and there were about seven different close calls with Peggies driving by. She made it into the first cabin and set him down on the nearest cot. 

She collapsed into the nearby desk chair and waited. 

Before long, there was the sound of wheels grinding on dirt, and a couple of car doors slamming. 

“Rook!” 

“Shit,” Rook repeated. She went to the door and stuck her head out. “In here!” when Earl and Owen made it to the doorway, she stepped out to block it. “Promise you won’t hate me for this.” 

Earl merely frowned at her. She didn’t miss that he seemed to reach for his gun briefly. 

She nodded slowly, then stepped aside. 

Earl sighed and stepped in. “Why all the secr- holy shit.”  His eyes finally settled on John. 

“Yeah. That’s why-” 

“.... Did you two square off? Why isn’t he dead?” 

“That wasn’t me. I- he got me in a corner, he had his people with him, they were aiming for me, I don’t know,  moved or something and they got him instead.” 

“Right. And you’re taking him in and putting him in a bed and if my suspicions are correct you’re about to ask Lindsey to see to his wounds. The guy who’s been trying to kill us. Wanna explain that?”  Earl repeated. 

“I don’t know, I just couldn’t- there’s- he- I-” Rook shut her mouth, trying to sort out her thoughts. Hell, she didn’t even know the answer to that. He had put countless others through Hell, including her, what the Hell had stopped her? Why hadn’t she just let Fate take its course? “If we got him patched up it might buy us some leniency with Joseph-” 

“Leniency? Leniency?” Earl demanded. “He’s a madman. There is no reasoning with him.” 

“Yeah, well, maybe considering his own people turned tail and ran when he was guaranteed to die and I took him in might make him less inclined to murder us,” Rook replied. 

Earl opened his mouth, then shut it. He looked like he was considering that argument. At least there was that. “He would’ve let you die.” 

“Wouldn’t’ve,” came a weak murmur from John’s direction, and the three others froze and looked at him. “T’ important,” John supplied after another moment. His eyes were barely open, but they could tell he was watching them. Whether he fully understood what was going on was another thing entirely. 

Rook crossed back over to the bed and ushered Charles over. “I think the bullets are still in there. There were two shots, didn’t see any exit wounds.” 

Charles looked uncertainly between her, John and Earl. “He’s a Herald.” 

Rook thought for a moment, then sighed. “Would you wanna die like this? You almost did, if it wasn’t for me, too,” Rook pointed out. It was a cheap shot, especially when she knew the gravity of what she was asking, but the point still stood. “I’m sick of people dying, no matter what side they’re on. I just want this fucking war to be over,” she murmured. 

Charles looked from her to John and back again. “... Okay. I just… need my supplies. And I’m gonna need light. And your help.” 

She nodded. “Okay.” 

Charles moved to get his bag again and Rook stepped aside to accommodate him. She jumped when something hooked her fingers. She turned to investigate, only to nearly squawk in protest when she realized John had hooked her fingers with his pinky when she had drifted close enough. 

“Thank you,” John forced out, barely above a whisper. 

Rook scoffed. “Don’t thank me yet, Johnny Boy. Sounds like you’ve still gotta deal with an operation. And whether you continue to survive is all on you behaving.” She waited for a response until she realized his fingers had gone limp nearly immediately after he had spoken. He was out like a light“Shit… “ 

“Let me get in there. I need you to hold him down,” Charles instructed. 

Great. Here went everything. She had taken a giant chance saving him, and now there was a good chance he wasn’t going to survive the procedure after all this. She nodded, then took her spot where Charles told her to go. 

Minutes ticked by like hours again after that. Charles had gone to work digging the bullets out of Joh’s body, and Rook had held as tight as possible, counting it as a miracle that John hadn’t woken up for any of it, but he was looking paler. It was a lot of blood to lose, and with the war going on they were playing with borderline Revolutionary War era medical care. He eventually retrieved the bullets though, and patched up the wound. He inspected John further afterwards and found out that John had broken his arm and leg on the way down. 

By the time things had cleared out, John was looking slightly better for wear. Some of his coloring had returned, and the bleeding had finally, finally stopped for the moment after a few blots with bandages. 

Earl had left sometime after that after Tracey had called him back to the Prison to deal with a fight between two of the Resistance members, but not before he had Rook promise to inform him of the first sign of trouble. 

Rook had found some fiction book that didn’t reek of cult manipulation, sat down on the bed across from his and read, waiting for him to come to just to see how to proceed. Hell, she didn’t even know what to do. She hadn’t even thought about the now in saving his life, she had just leapt before she looked - both literally and figuratively. 

Rook glanced John’s way again after a while. 

There was something strangely satisfying about seeing him as the mess he had turned into in the last few hours. She could admit, probably with a gun to her head, that he was attractive regardless, but now seeing him unkempt and weathered- still attractive, the bastard, but it made him seem more human- like he was less untouchable than he wanted the world to believe he was. It would’ve been a mark in the ‘Resistance Has a Chance’ column if circumstances were different and he didn’t look like that because she had saved his life. Well, if he recovered from the crude, slightly better than guerilla medical care. 

Between that and the medical cocktail Charles had given him to keep him sedated, it was well into the night by the time he woke up again. The second she saw him stir she set the book down and faced him. “Hey. Take it easy.” 

John considered her for a moment, then looked at the ceiling. “Is this Hell?” 

“No, but it’s not Eden either.” 

John went to sit up, albeit carefully and he yelped in pain and immediately leaned back down. He closed his eyes. “You brought me to the Path?” 

“It was the closest place to lay low. And the cleanest around to take care of you.” 

“Why?” John asked after a moment. 

Rook opened her mouth, then shut it. She knew he wasn’t asking why she had brought him there. He was asking about saving him. “You said you didn’t want to take my life before. I’m returning the favor.” 

“Favor? It wasn’t a fa-” he flinched again, then tried to settle into a more comfortable position- which ended up in him putting his weight on his broken leg. He hissed again. “It wasn’t a favor, it was… an offer. A promise.” He sunk back into the pillows and let his eyelids droop. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again, and looked a fair deal more alert. 

Rook shrugged. “Yeah, well, point still stands. You didn’t kill me, I won’t kill you.” 

“Just this once?” John asked. “That make us even, then?” 

“For now. Just don’t try anything. At this point, it’d do more damage to you than it would to me.” 

John hummed in agreement, then looked at his wrapped arm and leg. “Is it too much to hope that these are only sprains?” 

“Nope. Broke both. Somehow they’re clean breaks though.” 

John looked distant for a few moments, taking in the information. “I need to radio Joseph.”

“Like Hell are you going anywhere near a radio.” 

“Would you prefer him assume I’m dead and mount retaliation against your people?” 

Rook opened her mouth, then shut it for a while. He had a point. Every single one of the siblings had a burning need to retaliate if she crossed them in any way. She sighed and unclipped the radio then looked at his injured arm and frowned. 

John caught on immediately. “Eight.”

She nodded, switched the frequency and held it out for him. John reached for it, then stopped short when they noticed there was silence instead of static- and then Joseph’s voice carried into it. 

“A seal has been opened. My brother, John, was loved by few. Feared by many. Misunderstood by all... except me. John was not born a monster. He was just a child when our family was torn apart. He was loving, kind, full of joy. He was easily preyed upon. John was not perfect and sometimes, he was not even good. But he was my brother."

Rook opened her mouth and shut it firmly. It was clearly a recording, but there was far too much to unpack there. And the least worrisome thing was the fact that Joseph had probably just blindly believed the Peggies that had probably ruled John dead the second he hit that water. And then there was the fact that big brother who John clearly looked up to and whose word he held onto above all had just called him a monster. 

Leave it to Joseph to see the evil of his family’s ways but not his own. 

She looked back at John, and found him staring at the radio. He looked at least three times as pained as he had when he was flinching from his injuries. She opened her mouth again- 

“Don’t,” John warned.  He leaned all his weight on his good arm in order to use it to prop himself up more- a show of resilience and power, knowing him. Working through the pain, saying Yes to it all.But there was still one Hell of a storm brewing in his eyes- the calm winter sea had just turned into a tempest. 

There was silence for a while, and then the address looped and began. Rook reached out and turned the dial to shut it off before he could get past the word. “You just said you expected-” 

“Not this soon. He’s supposed to- he just- that wasn’t-” John struggled for the words, but when they didn’t come, the flash of anger on his face visibly sapped his energy and he settled back again. “It’s too soon…” he murmured again, though there was clearly something else he wasn’t saying. 

“If I didn’t think to go after you, I would’ve thought you were dead. too.” 

“It wasn’t the bridge of tears, it’s barely twenty feet to the water. The bulletwound was the bigger issue. You don’t die from that fall. But again: you went after me. You’re not leaving me for dead within hours with no search.”

“You don’t know that,” Rook offered, then immediately shut her mouth. Why the Hell was she offering a silver lining to a Seed?

“Deputy, if we had people out looking for me, you’d know.” 

She went to protest, then stopped. He had a point. Each sibling had capture parties ready in mere minutes when she pissed them off enough. The preparation time would probably be cut in half for one of their own. 

Silence passed again, and a radio granted them a reprieve just like the last case, but this time it was the radio at her hip- there was a burst of static, and then- were those gunshots? 

“Shit! Deputy! You there?!” 

“Merle?! What the fuck is going on?!” 

“Attack at Silver Lake’s! Could use a ha- GAH!” the gunshot that followed sounded like it was directly next to the radio. 

“Merle?! Merle!” Rook repeated. When there was silence, she swore under her breath and put the radio back on her belt. Of course Merle would need help. Of course another shootout would happen when this started. And she couldn’t just stay put when friends were in danger. But this was hardly something to ignore.

John merely looked back, waiting expectantly, like he knew just what she was contemplating. 

Rook swore under her breath before she took the handcuffs off the back of her belt, crossed the room and grabbed one of his wrists before he even had a moment to protest. She clapped the cuff on it, looped it through the gap between the bedposts, grabbed his other wrist and did the same- though it wasn’t lost on her that it looked like he moved his free wrist up to her hand to assist her. She gave the cuffs an experimental tug. The bedframe was made of a weak wood, so if he tried hard enough he could probably get free, but she was counting on the pain and fatigue catching up with him. 

“Well, the Deputy, among the many who have cuffed me to a bed now-” 

“I will gag you,” Rook cut him off. “I’m going to go help them. You’re going to sit here, shut up and rest. You can scream your lungs out for help, but the only ones around these parts now are angels, and well, you already told me how you feel about them. I’m calling in Whitehorse, he’s barely five minutes away. No one will get far.” 

“Noted,” John replied, though he looked thoughtful. 

“What?” Rook snapped. 

“Just… reflecting,” John sighed. “Of all the counties in the world, you had to come into mine, and then saved my life after all this trouble, and all that.” 

Rook shot him a warning look, and when he merely shrugged, flinched for his trouble, then leaned back into the pillows again, she figured he was done. Or about as done as the man who adored his voice most in the county could be. She turned on her heel and marched out the door. She made a call to Earl to come keep an eye on things, and then a call for Sharky to get her to head to the trailer park immediately afterward. 

She really, really needed to stop playing hero for once in her damned life.

[polygamyff]

29. Part 4

Leon just stared at me in shock “wait, wait” he laughed “bitch, wait. Where was I when this was happening? So let me get this straight” he breathed out “you let some rich dick go” side eyeing Leon “I am joking, so you and Maurice had a fall out and then he gave up his rights to his daughter, you didn’t want that so now his sister is coming?” nodding my head, fixing Reign’ diaper “I am in shock, I am disgusted. I mean on a real, what the fuck. Does that mean Maurice is going to get rid of me out of his friend’ club?” Leon is so self centred at times “I don’t care for what it means for you, all I know is that Christmas day they want me to give up my daughter so he can see her alone. Which is fine but if they think I am just going to not go to that home too, I will be” looking down at Reign “you ready to show off your outfit to uncle Leon, he’s come here with gifts for you baby. And he is here for the food, don’t get it twisted with that” turning away from the changing table “hey, don’t tell my niece that so anyways. The plan is, you are letting her go with his sister? I am actually in shock that all of this happened and I didn’t know, why didn’t you say? I am always here for you Robyn, like I am shocked he gave up his daughter like that? To be honest, it’s rather poetic” holding up Reign’ three piece with her skirt, my eyes bulged out “poetic? The fuck are you on today?” Leon is on something “no seriously, like I know his family is all leadership and boys rule and keep family close and the bloodline pure. It’s like he is protecting her in a weird way, it’s love to me” Leon must see something a whole lot different because I am so upset he did that, I didn’t want that at all “you are loved little one, my little diva. Bitch you called Reign, you about Reign over this land. Mark my words, I will be seeing you do big things” I can only imagine my daughter’ first word would be bitch, Leon never stops saying it.

My dad didn’t want me to have a baby but he sure does take over every time, he dotes on her so much “I love being with my family, mom and dad I hope you like my gifts. I can actually afford them this year” I chuckled “Leon ain’t broke anymore, he making money” I laughed at him “making money and getting dick!” Leon spat and then gasped placing his hands over his mouth “now, I said no language like that. She’s a baby, there is babies here” my dad is so dramatic, but he will dramatic once I tell him the next thing to come. He doesn’t know that Nalah is about to come here and take Reign, I will be following behind because no, my child won’t be left like that “so uhm, yeah. Mom, soon. Like after presents and stuff, Reign’ auntie will be coming” getting up from the couch as I turned around to see my mom’ reaction, not my dad’ “oh is she? She is coming to see her?” nodding my head “I mean, like take her to see Maurice” my mom let out an oh “if you want that to happen, that is ok” my mother agrees “so you’re letting his crazy family take her, he gave up his right. Why does he want to see her now? So his family is seeing her? Robyn, you’re not thinking, if a man can walk away from his child then they don’t care about anything, don’t be so stupid” putting my hand up at my dad “I want her to know him, that paper is burnt, it’s gone. It never existed” I got rid of that “Thomas, it’s her daughter. We accept what she wants to happen” my mom said “then when they take her do not come crying!” looking over at Leon as I sighed out.

Never thought of myself as a Cali girl, I mean I have heard they are fake as fuck but I love my home in Texas, my dad made the right choice in that. I couldn’t see myself here at all, I mean my brother got with a Cali girl and look at that mess. I am not going to pick a fight but my brother wouldn’t be so crazy in doing something if a certain person didn’t push him to it, but we shall see. I like Robyn, I do, I think she is a lovely girl but when it comes to my family, that is a no. Also that is my little brother, she is pushing it. Christmas day and I am out here acting like a crazy bitch in Cali, I don’t want to be here at all. Tapping on Shawn’ name, I need to know if Maurice has decided to leave Texas. I was shocked to know he went to see mom, he never does on Christmas “we have just landed” Shawn said it before I even asked “good, how is he? Is he ok? When I called Robyn, I think I may have been harsh with her, I said don’t fuck with my little brother, that is his child. Some shit ain’t adding up between them both, you know. But anyways, I am near the home so I will be getting my niece from her” it’s a nice little neighbourhood this is “cool, you need to relax. Little feisty ass” I sniggered “it’s funny hearing the word little from you” I fell out laughing “bitch, anyways. See you soon” disconnecting the call, let me get myself together.

Walking up the porch steps, fixing my bag on my arm before knocking on the door. I huffed out looking around me, the things I do for my little brother, my life is a mess but it’s whatever. It’s about my brother, he is unhappy. I swung myself back around as the door opened, I am guessing this is her dad “Robyn!” he shouted, I don’t like this guy already, I mean no hi or anything “ooohhh bitch, hey girl” oh I remember Leon “you look so fucking good, your skin! Look right, you lost weight?” waving him off “you being too nice, honestly” Leon stepped outside “you right, I am. I am just fighting to keep within the family” Leon said “I like your honesty, people like you get far” seeing Robyn walk towards the door, I sighed out “hey” I smiled at her, I will be nice “come in, come. My dad should have said” he’s a dickhead, that is why “thank you” I smiled as I walked into the home, ok this is busy and the chatter of people stopped, great. I am the freak show they are staring at “hi, this is Reign’ auntie. Sit down” this very pretty lady said “I need to get going, but thank you” I hate this, I hate Maurice too now “she only sits on Gucci mom, don’t” Leon is a liar, just I don’t like bad vibes and I am feeling it.

Robyn can do it all, like this car seat business is not me “you sure you can deal with a baby?” I know this guy is not speaking to me “sorry, was I speaking to you?” I said to him “dad, please!” Robyn said “I am speaking to you, you’re taking my grandchild and you think I am not questioning it, you don’t want to get your nails ruined. How do you know they are not stealing her away” if he is being like this with me, I can only imagine what this man is like with my brother “your dad please voice doesn’t work, you need to keep your dad in check” I said to Robyn while staring at him “oh lord, what is happening?” someone said “the baby didn’t come out of you, how about you pass her to the mother” I can see it now, I can really see it because this man is not nice at all. Robyn took Reign from her dad, she is sleeping bless her heart “I don’t like this, the fighting. Can we all just please calm down” Leon said “he’s no man, Maurice Davenport is no man. A man takes care of his kids, he can’t be a man. Now he is hiding behind his sister, tell him to come and fight me like a man” is this guy on drugs “you touch my little brother then you will see! Robyn, you really need to sort this out, girl you bugging. I am surprised Maurice ain’t knocked his ass out but I forgot, he loves you too damn much” I breathed “just bring Reign out to me, I don’t have the time. I am not fighting any of you!” I stormed out.

I remained silent as Robyn fixed the car seat in the SUV, I am disappointed in Robyn for not taking up for my brother “I have put a change of clothes in there for her, diapers. I mean the house has it all there. She will wake up and be a little cracky but she will be ok” looking over at Robyn “so you mean Reign’ home has her clothes there but you’re here?” I pointed at her parents home, she didn’t know what to say “this is y’all daughter, not my issue but your dad. Needs to stop, Maurice and I have got a bully of our own in Texas but you see us, we do not listen to him. You clearly are, he is not the father of this child my brother is. I am actually really fucking pissed off, now I see it Robyn. I see it, you need to be a woman cause shit. You about to be real lonely. I will bring her back, bye” I am so angry, I want to say more but I won’t. She is ok to beef herself up towards my dad but when his bitch ass is saying shit she is like dad please, she is all tough towards my dad but not her own “girl, boo” I said to myself shaking my head.

“You know I do appreciate this, you coming out with me. It’s Christmas day too” unlocking the house door “Maurice, I have had moments where you called me and you was out of your mind, I came then so why wouldn’t I come now? It’s important, and I love you, you know this” Shawn patted my back “love you too, it’s weird being in this home. It was supposed to be a new start, I had a home. I wasn’t living in hotels, this was my first home and it went to shit so quickly” rubbing my hands together, I feel disappointed in a lot of things. I bought my first home, it’s not like I can’t afford a home but there was no reason too, it would be a waste, I used Texas as a base where I needed to go and see family, this was supposed to be a new start and now it’s empty, no love here at all “but Maurice, this is still a home. Your daughter lives in Cali, this will be yours to see her. Maurice I ain’t hearing this, I want you to bond with this girl. This is about you and little Reign, and the home needs cleaning” Shawn pointed out, looking to where he was pointing too “oh yeah, the kitchen. I told you, shit was just rushed, she went and then I went. It’s fucked up” Shawn is right but I don’t want to be here, I will sell this home because there is really no reason for it.

Holding the snooker cue watching Shawn take his shot “I was thinking, your sister is taking her time. You know she will take that baby and argue later” I chuckled, Shawn ain’t wrong “I am nervous, like the baby is tiny. She don’t know shit but she making me nervous. I feel like I felt when I first met Robyn, just feeling nervous” I ain’t going to lie it’s a big deal “she’s a baby, she won’t know shit. Only thing she be wanting is milk and snuggles, how would you feel if Robyn came back with Nalah?” that is a good question “probably would make things about me and her rather than the baby, probably turn into another disagreement. It’s her mother, I can’t do anything about it” I shrugged “have y’all split then? That is it? I get that vibe?” I don’t even know “I suppose” hearing the buzzer go off “that will be them” Shawn said “I am scared bro” Shawn patted my shoulder laughing, I mean I wonder if she actually got her or this is a ploy. Placing the cues onto the snooker table, let me slowly make my way to the door. Shawn already ran off to see, he can greet them first. I do appreciate Nalah doing this for me but I don’t feel I deserve it, I did give Reign away and I did what my dad did to Adam, I am a shit person that is why.

“She is awake, sweet Jesus. She got lungs!” Nalah said, she did get her. Turning the corner and seeing Nalah with the car seat in hand. I abruptly stopped walking, swallowing hard “awww man, look at her” Nalah looked at me and just shook her head “you a whole idiot, Shawn can you get her bag for her. But I did this for you, this is for you. She stop crying though, well she is quiet now. You better bring your butt here, she don’t know me like that” Nalah placed the car seat down “I mean she don’t know me like that either?” I questioned “shut up, come here anyways. You had a hard time here didn’t you” Nalah’ heels clicking away on the marble flooring as she hugged me “I am impressed with the photography of those pictures, I always said Rosalina was a whore” hugging my sister “I don’t remember those pictures though” I really don’t “just you go now, and see her. She is probably worried, I don’t want her stressed out. Go” she ain’t cried though, chewing on my bottom lip shuffling over to the car seat. Crouching down, moving the seat around before pushing back the hood of the car seat. Reign frowned staring at me, she doesn’t seem impressed “hey” reaching my hand to her little skirt and pulled it down to fix her three piece, shaking my head placing my hand over my face. My heart is so overjoyed with pain, hurt, love. I couldn’t stop myself from crying even if I tried “little Reign got her daddy crying, it’s ok bro” Shawn said, I cried out into my hands.

Using the back of my hand to wipe my tears, Reign is staring at me still. Her innocent little face just staring at me “I can’t” I sat back across from the car seat “you can, hey. What is it?” Shawn asked “I gave her away, how is that normal? She doesn’t understand but I do, I let her go” Shawn crouched down to me “you did but you are also at a place in your life where you’re not having a good time, you have a lot going on Maurice. You felt you was doing right by her because you feel like you can’t protect her, that is fine. I get it but there is other ways you can help her, she is here and I want you to have a good time” Shawn dragged the car seat over “you so beautiful ain’t you, look at your dress” Shawn started to unbuckle Reign out of her car seat “you about to hold her, nobody tells my brother they cant have his daughter. Yes he can have his daughter” Shawn picked Reign out of the car seat “there you go” Shawn placed Reign in my arms, Reign moved her face to me as she stared at me again “Mi Hermoso, my beautiful baby” my voice croaked out “Mi Amor” holding her hand, Shawn pulled her pacifier out, my smile grew “nice to meet you, it’s like we meeting all over again” Reign is just intrigued “baby girl is like, I know this nigga. I just know him” my sister said “I am so sorry, you deserve so much more” she really does.

Cradling Reign in my arms, I remember she likes using my arm like a hammock, I remember that “get your arm out, hold it out” Nalah said, holding it out “how does it feel” she shook some of the milk out “uhm, ok? Yeah ok” that is not hot, bringing my arm to my mouth and licking the the milk off “that is her breast milk” Nalah said in disgust “oh, I mean it’s fine” I didn’t know that was from Robyn’ breast “ayee family, Maurice look. Ally wants to see the progress” Shawn said behind me, turning around “awwww Reign is with you guys! I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t fired too for redirecting your flight” Ally said on facetime, I chuckled looking down at Reign “no, never. You made the best decision, Reign is happy and so am I” looking up at the phone “see, you good but Ally, you did well for once. Have a good Christmas, I got him now” Nalah passed me the bottle “she must be hungry now” taking the bottle from Nalah “you like being in my arms don’t you, this ain’t no hammock Mi Hermoso” making my way to the living room to feed her.

Holding the bottle up “wow bebe grande, bebiste toda la leche” looking down at Reign smiling at her “here you go with your Spanish bullshit, nigga you ain’t cute. Tell me what you said?” Shawn asked “I said you drank all the milk, you big baby” I chuckled “I am playing, you good” I grinned at Reign, a small smile played on her lips “we good now ain’t we? Like you know I am your dad now” placing the bottle down to the side of me “this is what daddy boy got, he got his little bilingual carer with dad. Golden child got a golden education” here Nalah go “well you had the choice in having that, you just wanted to be bougie and dumb” lifting Reign up “let’s burp you Mi Hermoso” looking over at Nalah “my brother forever speaking to my niece in Spanish” I smiled at her, she is taking a video I think “are you videoing us?” she stopped the recording “perhaps” rubbing Reign’ back, just hearing the little whimpers, her curious eyes just roaming everywhere, she is so precious “selfie time” Nalah sat next to me “not without me” Shawn spat, he stood behind the couch “bring your big head closer Shawn” looking down at Reign, she ain’t being sick at all “aww, look at her chubby cheeks. Say cheese guys” I just gave a faint smile “I am sad we ain’t had Christmas dinner though, you think one of the hotels will deliver to us?” shaking my head laughing “you’re funny” I mean she could try.

My finger lightly stroking Reign’ cheek as she rested against my chest, she is fully awake but I guess she likes it like this “you happy though? Like you could have been missing out on this, you know that? Look at her, she is so content with you” nodding my head “I don’t want her to be in no battle between anyone or anything, it’s not nice to be in that you know” Nalah walked in with her laptop and placed it on the coffee table in front of me “mom and dad want to say Merry Christmas” lifting my head up a little “Marquis, look! Awww look” my mother said pointing at the screen “they begged me, they wanted to see you both” placing my hand just behind Reign’ head as I got up a little “hey mom, dad” he was out yesterday when I went over “is that my grand baby, let us see her” my dad said while placing his glasses on “they aren’t here are they, let them” Nalah said, slowly turning Reign “meet my Mi Hermoso, Reign-Texas Davenport” turning her to the screen “she has your ears, doesn’t she. Oh my, she is so pretty. And that dress!” my mom yelped out, my dad smiled nodding his head “yes, she is very beautiful. Oh wow, hey there” my dad waved at the screen “it’s granddad Marquis and Grandma here, awwww” my dad waving at the camera is making me laugh “it doesn’t suit you old man” placing Reign over my shoulder “where is the mother?” my dad asked, he ain’t stupid that man “not here” my dad nodded his head slowly “I have taught you better than this Maurice, you’re letting this mess come out. You are being careless, you’re a father now. You need to learn how to be a lion and protect. I am not happy with you at all. Your mother said you came here yesterday. Sorry I wasn’t here, I was in a meeting but I am not happy, how do you expect me to give you the business when you can’t even deal with this? I am watching, also if the mother is not around have you got visitation rights over Reign?” looking at Nalah, my dad would kill me if hears what I did “working on it” I mumbled.

Nalah chuckled “dad looked so happy to see Reign, I lowkey would like to see dad beat you. I was dying to snitch on you” Nalah pressed her finger right into my dimple, moving my head to the side “whatever, women. You know, I just need to deal with it. Like I know if I told dad that there was no rights and I gave that up, he would kill me. He would probably use money against me but I don’t want that for Reign, I want it to be different for her and I felt like I am the cause, I mean come on. She just came into the world and her dad could have already gave her sickle cell, her granddad wants her to be away from her mother already, the family are scared of her because she could get what is theirs. It’s not a good look, it’s not. And dad is right, I am not doing well. He is watching me, I know it so this Dubai hotel needs to go right. Then I got Robyn, she’s just switched on me. Fucking Rosalina, I swear she is a pain. Y’all laughing at me but she also snorted it off my dick, just she fucked me over” Shawn laughed “nigga, your life needs to be a fucking book. No wonder Robyn hates you” Shawn cackled saying “well when money can get you anything in the world, you do it” I could get anything and I used it “Maurice!” Leon’ voice rang through my ears, looking towards the door and my eyes met Robyn’ as she stood looking at me.

[prorevenge]

Psycho Ex gets my egoless revenge with a side of heavy-duty karma.

The following story occurred over the course of 13-8 years ago, and I apologize preemptively for the length, because it is a bit involved.

I was in a relationship for 9 years with a girl I met in college. We broke up on the cusp of my 29th birthday. While breakups and divorce are never trauma-free, this one was as close to that as I believe is humanly possible to get, there were no fights and minimal drama, and I moved to a new city to get a fresh start and be nearer my dad/stepmom/half sisters, as I'm close to them and it was nice to have family during this. Get an apartment, start over, everything's good. Then I meet "her."

Things with her seemed good at first. She was the polar opposite of my ex. She's quiet yet nice, had her life relatively together (my first wife was very unfocused and horrible with money), physically a complete contrast, wild in the bedroom--I thought I had hit the jackpot.

Anyhoo, I fall for her hard. We have a whirlwind romance, move in shortly, and we have this glamorous life where we make good money (she was a corporate accountant, I had a decent small business, we're pulling in 150K+ combined), renting a luxury apartment, one car paid and the other brand new, no kids. Things are great, except that we drink too much together and some other underlying issues I'm blind to at the time. We get soused one night and drive to Vegas, and get married on the strip after 6 months of dating and 9 of knowing each other. The ink is barely dry on my divorce papers from version 1.0, but no matter, I'm in love. My family likes her overall. Her family loves me. We adopt cats. We talk about trying to have a kid.

We upgrade our life and take on more debt, just as the housing bubble bursts and the economy tanks, she loses a couple jobs due to her inability to show up on Mondays, and I start losing clients as the ones I have start cutting their advertising budget (my field). Things start to get pinched, and she first starts complaining, then gets petulant, because now we can't spend the way we used to, the quarterly mini-vacations dry up, plus we're cooking at home instead of going out to eat 4x a week. We basically stop having sex a little more than a year into the relationship (didn't realize it then, because I was dumb and love-blind, but she cheated on me during this period).seRealizing what we're up against with our normal bills plus our credit cards, I go out and get a job bartending at a posh resort, the only other real skill I have at the time that's marketable. I get two other part time gigs to help make ends meet. She still complains, and throws me an ultimatum before I even start getting paychecks, laying the blame at my feet. I say fine, screw this then. Had we stuck it out even a few more months, things would have started to turn a financial corner. Instead, she goes full two-faced, mean-spirited bitch on me. The night we first fight, she "attempts suicide" by scratching her wrist with a leatherman, then calls 911, gets admitted to the hospital (I arrive home to cops telling me this), and has the security guard toss me when I show up to see if she's okay because she doesn't want to talk to me. I use the quotes because there was a small collection of firearms nearby I bought for her target shooting hobby which were untouched, so it was obviously just a ploy for attention.

We basically fight for the next week, I give her everything she wants, which includes leaving the house, signing over my new truck to her, and only taking stuff I brought into the relationship, basically enough to fill a small storage space. She's financially pinched so I sell my office furniture for cash and don't even touch the bank account, just take my biz money and one CC I got separate from her. I go to the Bay Area for a few months, financially struggle, don't get the job I was sure was on lock. During this time, I have this revelation one evening--I drink too much and that it's caused a load of problems in my life, so I quit, and I haven't touched a drop since.

Broke and realizing nothing I try is working, I come back to town, live with my dad for a month, find a roommate, then a shit retail job (my business has dropped from 7-8K per month at its height to now around 500/mo), I bike everywhere bc I can't afford a car, and my credit is toast partially due to her love of spending on plastic, so I'm facing bankruptcy. I'm 31, and this is really humbling, but whatever, I'm alive, have dealt with hardship before, this won't last forever. She has kept her house, declared personal BK on her debts, keeps her car, and has been dating a series of men starting a couple weeks after we split. While I never asked the details, apparently she's also reached out to a few of my friends and badmouthed me a bit. This would be mildly annoying, but add in two factors--she's dragging her feet on the divorce due to not having money to file, keeps up contact on the pretense of us needing to talk, but plays emotionally manipulative head games during the whole sequence ("I've realized I still love you, that's why you can make me cry so easily," and other bullshit Hallmark movie lines like this). Also, we live in a suburb that's smaller and tightly knit, so multiple places I go to like my church, the bookstore I frequent, and the coffee shop right by my place, she talks endless shit to people. Says I was a cheater and physically/emotionally abusive (complete crap, but whatever), I'm stalking her, I supposedly stole tens of thousands of dollars from her, the whole nine. Some people actually believe her, I even get threatened by a wannabe biker one night that's literally twice my age with violence, itself a funny story but not the point.

Finally, after some more bullshit and back and forth, she leaves town (more falsehoods around this, including her borrowing a bit of money she didn't end up paying back, and sticking me with a massive overage on our cell bill right before we split the account). My dumb, trusting heart hurts but I'm mostly relieved to see the last of her, realizing she's only nice to me when she wants something. She goes to NY to shack up with another guy, gets pregnant 15 minutes later. Finally sends me divorce paperwork. I sign it and send back quickly, all notarized docs, everything organized and flagged. She attempts to be "friends" and I want no part of this BS. I'm businesslike, she gets upset. She screws up filing, blames me. I say "whatever," straighten out the court issues. One week after the divorce is finalized, the kid is born. No word from her after that for two years, thank god. I get a new career, start advancing in it, and start dating a new woman that I'm still with 10 years later. Weirdly enough, they knew each other, and she didn't like her, partially because one of my ex's infidelity partners was her ex-husband, during a time they were exploring patching things up for the kids' sake (though there were multiple reasons for her distrust, apparently she always gave my wife an icky intuitive feeling).

So flash forward two years. I get a call from my current squeeze. She's just talked to a friend who was also a very brief roomie of "her" after our split. She's breaking up with the baby daddy. There's a custody fight. He's saying he doesn't know if it's his. Will I help her? Well, it's the right thing to do, so even though I don't trust or particularly like her, I say yes. I get the call, and a sob story. Most of it doesn't add up--he took the kid, but thinks it's actually mine, to prove paternity I'd need to come to NY and take a paternity test at one of their facilities, also he hit her, put a GPS tracker on her car, brother is a Russian mobster who threatened her, all very far-fetched. Needless to say, even without this fanciful tale, I generally assume if this woman is talking, it's a lie, so I'm suspicious. Her lawyer calls me, and seems like a clueless shmuck. I get a letter from him, very unprofessional and not even on a letterhead (every other legal doc I've seen has "from the law offices of blah blah" on it, but this is literally just off a laser printer), and says, verbatim "I, M___ K___, am the ex-husband of J___ K___, and was married to her from 6/07-8/09. I have no legal interest in the child." Super shady.

Not wanting to end up in a situation where I've allowed myself to be legally fucked over, I make my own lawyer consultation appointment. Before I can even go, the baby daddy finds me on Facebook and sends me a message. Between calls with him, his lawyer, and the impartial lawyer NY state appoints for the child's welfare, I get a very different story. He knows it's his, he had a paternity test done on the sly at birth because she had been promiscuous before they got together, and she was pregnant so quickly he was concerned. They broke up because she was drinking too much, he busted her with a bottle of vodka as she was driving with the kid in the car. She stood up in court, claimed I was actually the father, and she had no idea where to find me (he found me in 10 seconds online, I'm a tech guy with massive social media presence, a tech blog, multiple writing credits on publications, my frigging name as a domain, plus I've had the same cell phone number for 14 years). Also the other BS was just that, he's an IT guy for a university and his brother works for a carpet cleaning chain, plus just like in our relationship, he never hit or stalked her, etc.

So she, not knowing what I know, starts sending me text messages. I say "Filled out and on its way back to your lawyer," and toss it in the trash. I'm so tempted to send her some poetic message about how the truth is coming back to haunt her, but I resist, because I'm not doing this for her, but rather for the sake of their son and his father, so let's keep my ego out of it. I provide legal statements to all in the court. Tell them I know it's not possibly mine because I hadn't been with her since April 15 of '08, kid's birthday is in Sept of '09 (I remember the date because, due to taxes, I got fucked twice that day). Explain when she was in NY, which is the likely dates of conception, prove I was thousands of miles away on the west coast. Tell them to look through her social media, where she meticulously tagged herself and took tons of pictures of even their mundane locations. Provide a blood sample to a local lab. Tell them salacious details about her drinking and occasional drug use, including her abused prescriptions and a previous hospitalization where she was held for psych eval due to taking way too many pills.

Court comes, and she gets blindsided. Stack of depositions and a collection of statements from me were what sealed the deal, apparently, and the incredibly stupid game she was running is fully exposed. Gets no custody, no support, supervised visitation once a week. I run into her ex-roomie, upset, but instead of giving her attitude, I just calmly tell her the scam J__ was running, then let her "pull out of me" the truth about our split. She's flabbergasted, but also a horrible gossip, so it gets around town like wildfire. People I barely know, including the aforementioned biker, all come up to me and apologize for misjudging me. I'm years past the stage of having any morbid curiosity to check her social media, but every few months she pops up as a "suggested friend," and I notice bemusedly the number of mutual friends plummets from triple digits to eventually 3. Baby's father sends me a massive Amex gift card for Christmas, as much as I make in a week at the time. I call and tell him I don't know if I can accept it, I don't want him or anyone to think I did this for a reward. He virtually begs, saying "you helped save my family. This is nothing in comparison. Thank you." We break down crying on the phone, and eventually form an odd, distant friendship based on mutual respect for each other. I even had dinner with him a couple times when I had to go to NY for biz over the years, and I always buy, because the poor guy has done enough and gone through enough having to coparent with this train wreck.

To this day, she's apparently struggling to stay sober (alcohol and other substances), and has minimal involvement in her child's life due to her inability to show up when expected. Baby daddy tells me she's been in legal trouble, financial issues up the ass, and a string of boyfriends that never last more than a few months. I'm doing well, got married again three years ago, raised step-children, am reasonably financially successful, and rather like my life. Granted, a large part of this story is just karma in action, but I feel like I did the right thing, wasn't petty, and what I did do hit her where it hurts.

TL;DR: Ex-wife fucks my life, destroys me financially, tries to trash my reputation, then tries to use me as a scheme in her custody battle years later. I talk to the court directly, work with the baby daddy's lawyers, and get her exposed for the psycho, lying wench she is. She loses custody, struggles, and the good people live mostly happily ever after.

(source) (story by heymomo7)

[rulesofthebeneath]

rooftop (hbad au)

<AN> Well... y’all asked for it. Also side note: please please please let me know if any of the hindi is wrong. I’ll be providing translations at the end of the fic. I used Romanized text instead of Devanagari script here.

Tagging: @pixelburied @witchiegirl @lorosette @itsbrindleybinch @awkwardalbatros @ravenclawpokegirl25 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @ajaysbhandari @ylevolenahs @hufflepvnk

</AN>

It had been a few weeks since he and Grace had talked about getting married, and Ajay felt like he was finally ready to ask.

He had taken every single thing into account when he was planning, as a good director had to. Location, check: he was in the elevator on his way to the landlord’s office to talk about getting access to the rooftop. He’d met the man a few times before: he was a verified grump, but Ajay was confident in his ability to persuade the man to his side. Lighting, check: he’d sneakily purchased string lights the other day while Grace had been at rehearsal. Sound, check: portable speakers, courtesy of Lysander back from their Bonnie & Clyde days, and a playlist of all the songs she’d ever texted him about. Costumes, check: he’d ironed out his best button-down and khaki pants for the occasion, something nice but still comfortable and hopefully just casual enough to catch her off guard. And finally, for props: he’d basically cleared the nearest flower kiosk out of lilacs, her favorite, and roses just thrown in for a change of pace.

But the most important prop was in his pants pocket, and he took it out now, running his thumb over the small wooden box. He’d ordered the engagement ring from a small artisan jeweler based in New York, so it hadn’t cost him much to get it delivered. His dad had called when Ajay texted to ask his advice on how much to spend on the ring, and the two had had a long discussion about prices and expectations and finances that left Ajay feeling very secure in his choice. He had found a beautiful ring with a gold band and a few small diamonds surrounding a slightly larger focal diamond. He really loved the style (and the price), and he knew Grace would too. She didn’t wear much fancy jewelry, so he knew she’d want something low-key.

By far the hardest part had been figuring out her ring size, since he still wanted to keep the timing of his plans secret. He’d been lucky enough though, one morning two weeks ago, to find her class ring from college sitting out on their dresser. After a very awkward conversation that definitely left her suspicious, he determined that it did still fit comfortably on her ring finger and was able to discern her ring size.

Finally, the elevator arrived at the first floor, and Ajay quickly walked down the hall and knocked on his landlord’s office. The man, Simon, kept him waiting but eventually opened the door, welcoming him inside with little more than a grunt. Ajay took a seat across from Simon at his desk. Simon stared at him until Ajay realized he was supposed to be speaking.

“What are the rules on rooftop access?”

“No.”

Ajay blinked, but argued back.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s my roof. No.”

Ajay crossed his arms.

“We won’t be loud and I promise we’ll clean up any mess we make.”

“No.”

Ajay narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Simon’s stony expression. The man could’ve easily thrown Ajay out of his office if he didn’t want to talk to him; Ajay knew from experience that the rudeness wasn’t beneath him. Simon must just be waiting for the right argument.

“I want to do something special for my girlfriend,” Ajay tried, attempting to solve the puzzle.

“And what’s that?” Simon asked, his expression betraying nothing.

Finally, Ajay thought, a weak point.

“Well, Grace and I have been together for almost two years now, and we’re both taking the weekend off to spend time with each other, so-”

Simon cut him off. “You’re going to propose.”

Ajay involuntarily turned red, but cleared his throat. “Yes, I am.”

Simon studied Ajay, and Ajay resisted the urge to fidget as the landlord’s eyes considered him. Finally, Simon spoke again.

“Fine,” he grunted, and Ajay broke into a wide grin. Before Ajay could open his mouth to thank him, though, Simon cut him off.

“But here’s some rules. You can play music for a maximum of thirty minutes between the hours of seven pm and nine pm. You get one warning if it’s too loud, and if it’s still too loud after that I’m kicking you off. And listen, young man, I shouldn’t have to say this, but no funny business on my roof. That’s what you’ve got an apartment for.”

Ajay’s eyes widened at that last statement, but he managed to maintain control of his words.

“Yes, sir. Thank you so much, this means a lot to me.” He thought he saw a hint of a smile from under Simon’s long beard, but he lost it as Simon turned to procure the key to the rooftop access.

“Get it to my dropbox by 9 am tomorrow, or the replacement cost’s coming out of your rent.”

Ajay couldn’t help himself from grinning at the landlord as he pocketed the small key. “Again, thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, get out of my office,” Simon said bluntly, and Ajay stood up rapidly to make his exit.

***

Almost five hours later, Grace turned her key in the lock and entered the apartment. She was sweaty from her all-day rehearsal, but very ready to spend a relaxing weekend with her boyfriend.

It had become a bit of a tradition for them, these regularly scheduled “stay-cations” every few months. Between the busy schedules and large time demands of show business, the couple had had to put something in place to make sure that they set enough time aside for each other.  It was easier ever since they moved in together, but Grace still loved having a few days just for them every once in a while.

This one was particularly special, because it came almost exactly on their second anniversary. The exact day had been yesterday, but Ajay had been forced to stay late working with a star-studded cast that was giving him hell, and Grace had needed to clock some hours at a dance studio anyways. The show she was rehearsing was notorious for its difficult dance sequences, and as a swing she was expected to know them all. But she had found a deep love for dancing, and even though it was a lot of work she didn’t mind doing it. A job was a job, and a gig as a swing on a long-running Broadway show meant amazing things to come.

It did mean, however, that Ajay was asleep by the time she gave up dancing and crawled into their bed at three am, and that he was long gone for the day when she woke up around lunchtime. Their schedules were grueling, and Grace desperately missed spending time with him.

So naturally, she threw herself into Ajay’s arms as soon as she walked through the door, her dance bag falling to the ground as his arms wrapped around her, holding her to him tightly until he noticed the sweat stench and quickly released her to avoid ruining his clothes. That was when she noticed the wonderful smell emanating from the kitchen.

“You’re my savior,” she proclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I thought we’d be going out and I’d have to be in front of people.”

“No people,” Ajay reassured her, “just me and you, a delicious dinner, a little Sinatra, and a sky full of stars.”

“How poetic. Wait… a sky full of… oh my god, did you get roof access?”

Grinning, he pulled the key out of his blazer pocket. She gasped.

“How did you get Simon to give you that?”

“That’s a secret,” he teased, smirking. He pressed a light kiss to her nose, then shoved her towards the bathroom. “Now go take a shower, you smell terrible.”

“Thanks,” Grace answered over her shoulder, rolling her eyes lovingly as she entered the bathroom. She washed her sweat away and let her sore muscles relax under the hot spray of the shower, humming some of the lyrics to the musical she’d been rehearsing. The music seemed to be permanently implanted in her head.

When she got out of the shower after fifteen blissful minutes, the towel she wrapped herself in was perfectly warm and dry, like it had just been taken out of the dryer. She made a mental note to thank Ajay for that later. What a thoughtful nerd, she thought fondly, leaving the bathroom and proceeding to her closet to pick out something nice but not too nice to wear. After all, they would be on the roof and she wanted to impress him, but she was too tired to go full formal.

Grace eventually decided on a soft pink shirt and a black skirt, accompanied by her signature knee-high boots. Under them, she wore her fuzziest Cookie Monster socks. She’d take the secret to her grave, but the only reason she liked wearing boots was because she could wear whatever socks she wanted under them. Sometimes a stressful work week needed crazy socks, and she knew Ajay agreed because she’d caught him rifling through her sock drawer on more than one occasion. She quickly dried her hair and did some simple makeup to cover the dark circles under her eyes. She figured she’d be getting more than enough sleep this weekend to make up for them: one of her and Ajay’s favorite things to do together was nap, because neither of them got enough sleep.

She finally emerged from the bedroom to see Ajay packing two plates and two sets of utensils into a large picnic basket that she hadn’t even known they owned. When he saw her, he smiled.

“You look beautiful,” he said, crossing the small kitchen to take her hands in his.

“You always say that,” Grace countered, biting her bottom lip playfully.

“It’s always true.” He turned back to the picnic basket and closed it, then hoisted the handles over his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

“Hell yes,” Grace cheered, “I’ve been wanting to see this roof forever.”

The pair left their apartment, fingers intertwined, to explore what laid beyond the mysterious roof access door.

Once she crossed the threshold, Grace could instantly tell that Ajay had really put some thought into the plans for tonight.

A large, thick, soft-looking blanket was spread out across the center of the flat roof, looking inviting. A small space-heater was set up beside it, because even though it was May the night could still get chilly. Beyond the blanket was a portable speaker—Grace recognized the one Ajay had used in Bonnie & Clyde—and string lights indicating a clear space, possibly for them to dance.

Grace could only squeeze Ajay’s hand in gratitude, recognizing the effort he must have gone through to put everything together. He kissed her temple and led her towards the blanket where they both sat.

“I still want to know how you got Simon to let us up here,” Grace said as she unpacked the food from the basket.

“It’s still a secret, janu.”

Grace rolled her eyes at him lovingly, then lifted the lid of one of the containers.

“Wow, Korean barbecue beef? You know this is my favorite…”

“That’s why I made it,” Ajay said, grinning. “Check the rest of the basket.”

Grace dug out a generous container of rice, a thermos of roasted vegetables (extra peppers but no carrots- he had remembered!), and finally a small box that Grace suspected was full of desserts. She raised an eyebrow at Ajay, who just shrugged and motioned to the box. Grace cautiously opened the box, then lost all semblance of caution when she saw what was inside.

“That’s cinnamon apple turnovers!”

“Yup, homemade this time.”

“Really? You didn’t just run down to the bakery during intermission–”

Ajay cut her off with a long kiss, then pulled back a few inches, their faces still close together.

“No, I made those myself. And I burned half my fingers doing it,” he said in a low voice, making Grace snort with laughter.

“You’re not usually that clumsy,” she noted between laughs. “And you’re a pretty good pastry chef, so what gives?”

Ajay simply hummed, turning away from her to start serving their meal. “My hands might have been shaking,” he admitted.

Grace raised her eyebrows. “How come?”

“That’s a secret, too,” he teased, pausing to give her a wink. Grace’s heartbeat sped up, a warm feeling of comfort and love filling her chest. She leaned forward to wrap her arms around his waist, kissing the nape of his neck as he finished loading a plate with food.

They dug in to the feast, talking and joking around as much as they could while savoring the perfectly marinated barbecue and the fluffiest rice Grace thought she’d ever tasted. Even the vegetables tasted amazing, roasted with olive oil according to Ajay. Grace ate her fill and then some, stealing chunks of the beef off Ajay’s plate to his indignation. He kept her glass filled with a seemingly endless supply of strawberry-flavored sparkling water (Grace had developed an addiction to the stuff, and now it was practically all she would drink) and let her have more than her share of the cinnamon apple turnovers (he had made three just to prepare for her wanting extras).

After the food was all eaten, Grace cleared the dishes into the empty basket while Ajay fiddled with his phone and the speakers, eventually getting them to play Sinatra songs at a volume that they could still hear but that hopefully wouldn’t provoke Simon’s rage. He helped her up and led her over to the little dance floor that he’d set up with the lights, then pulled her in close as they swayed together to the music.

After a few moments of wonderful, beautiful, comfortable silence, Grace spoke back up with the one thing that was on her mind.

“So, are you ever gonna tell me how you really got Simon to give us access?”

Ajay sighed. “I guess you’ll never leave it alone until I do, yeah?”

Grace pulled away slightly, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Did you sleep with him?” she joked.

“What?!”

“Because if you did, just saying, you could’ve invited me too.”

“Grace, what the actual-”

“Might’ve been fun. But now we’ll never know.”

Ajay rolled his eyes, trying not to give his girlfriend the satisfaction of knowing that her jokes were funny.

“He was actually really easy to convince,” Ajay said, “When I told him what I wanted it for.”

“Oh yeah? What did you tell him?” Grace asked, thinking she knew where he might be going with this. She prayed he couldn’t feel her heart pounding.

“Yeah. Well, first I walked down to his office and I just asked, and he shut me down but didn’t throw me out like he did the last few times we went to ask.”

“Surprise number one,” Grace quipped.

“Tell me about it. So I thought maybe I’d try a practical appeal.”

“Sensible.”

“I told him we’d clean up and we wouldn’t be loud.”

“And?”

“He still said no. But still didn’t make me leave. So I pulled out the greatest weapon in my arsenal.”

“Which was…?”

“An emotional appeal. The man has to have a heart somewhere.”

Grace smiled against Ajay’s shoulder, his arms wrapped even tighter around her. She could feel his heartbeat from where her forehead was nestled in the crook of his neck, and it was fast. She knew exactly where he was going with this, but she couldn’t imagine ruining it for him. She just pressed into his chest more, let him hold her closer as he continued.

“I told him how, eleven years ago, I met the love of my life but I didn’t know it was her. How I loved her, and then lost her, and then found her again so many years later.”

“Awww, Ajay..”

“I told him about how you mean the world to me, and how I want to make every single moment with you as special as it can be. I told him that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Did you really say all that to Simon?” Grace tried to blink back tears, overwhelmed by all of Ajay’s beautiful words.

“No. But I implied it with what I did say. I said it was our second anniversary, and that I wanted to do something really special for you. And he said, ‘You’re going to propose,’.”

Grace snuggled in closer to Ajay, the tears in her eyes starting to fall.

“And I said, ‘Yes, I am,’.”

Ajay separated himself from Grace, unwrapping her arms from around his shoulders. Far enough back, he kneeled down where he’d been standing and took out a small wooden box. Grace, unsure what to do, busied herself wiping away her tears. Ajay noticed the action and looked alarmed, but his panic faded when Grace showed him the big smile behind her tears. He grinned back up at her, his own eyes starting to glint with tears.

“Y’know, Grace, I wrote you a speech but I can’t remember a word of it. That’s how much you take my breath away, how you scatter my best-laid plans to the wind.”

Grace choked out a laugh, covering her mouth with one of her hands.

“The gist of it is this: I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be your husband, the father of your children, your partner forever. Will you marry me?”

Ajay opened the box, revealing the delicate ring he’d bought her. Grace didn’t think she’d ever seen anything more beautiful in her life than that ring, besides the man who was holding it, and she got distracted watching the dazzle of the string lights as they hit the small diamonds at just the right angle.

Tears falling freely now, Grace nodded rapidly.

“Yes!” she choked out through the tears. She stuck her left hand out and he slid the ring on, then stood up to wrap her in a tight hug once he’d put the box back in his pocket.

“Why are you crying?” he whispered as he ran his hands up and down her back soothingly.

“Why are you crying?” Grace mumbled into his blazer, sniffing. Ajay kissed the top of her head.

“Because I love you, and I get to love you for the rest of my life.”

Grace cried even harder. “Me too.”

***

The next morning, Grace woke up warm and comfortable with Ajay beside her, gently playing with her hair. She shifted, and he turned to face her, cupping her face in his hands.

“I’m sorry, janu, did I wake you up?”

Grace shook her head, her voice a little hoarse from sleep. “No, but even if you did, I think this is the best way to wake up.”

Ajay grinned and leaned down to kiss her. Once he pulled back, he ran a hand through her hair again.

“Well, good morning then, fiancée.”

Grace took in a surprised breath. “Wow, okay, I’m not gonna get used to that one for a while, fiancé,” she teased back, grinning when he blinked in surprise.

“It’s definitely a new one,” he agreed. “Should we get up, then? I’m hungry, and I think there are a few people who might want to hear about our news.”

Grace groaned into Ajay’s chest. “Can we go ahead and argue about who to call first now, and then get food?”

Ajay laughed. “Let’s call your brother first, if that’s alright? We can do that same thing to him as he did to us when he told you about his first kid.”

As Grace laughed, Ajay rolled out of the bed and grabbed a t-shirt. Grace stretched her back and followed suit, picking a pair of white socks with large yellow lemons on them from the drawer.

“You’re so weird,” Ajay laughed.

“Don’t act like you don’t steal my socks,” Grace responded, raising an eyebrow at him. “And anyways, you know I’m weird. That’s why you love me.”

“You’re right. I knew you were weird and I still asked you to marry me. Ignored all the warning signs…” he teased, only stopping when Grace reached back over to the bed and threw a throw pillow at him playfully.

The pair went into their small kitchen. Ajay microwaved the remnants of a takeout meal from the week before, while Grace poured cereal into a bowl.

Her twin brother, James, still lived in Los Angeles, but he and Grace Skyped every week. About a year ago, around the time Grace and Ajay had moved in together, James had called her with a big grin on his face.

“CONGRATULATIONS!” he had yelled almost as soon as she answered the call, laughing at the bewildered look on her face.

“What?”

“I said congratulations!”

“What did I do?”

James had beckoned his wife into the view of the camera. His wife, Alyssa, was hardly holding back her own laughter.

“Congratulations!” she said, making Grace groan in exasperation. At that point, Ajay had come over to investigate.

“Oh, hi Ajay! This kind of applies to you, too,” James had said. Grace and Ajay traded bewildered looks.

“Congratulations on your new niece or nephew,” James had said calmly, his expression barely holding back his happiness. He had waited for the news to sink in, and had laughed when Grace’s eyes went wide and she covered her mouth.

Stirring her cereal, Grace laughed to herself as she remembered that chaotic Skype call. She was so happy her brother had found someone with the same sense of humor as him. Their kid, a little boy they named Gabriel, had been born about six months ago, and Grace had been able to take some time off to go visit the newborn. He was the spitting image of Alyssa, but very loud just like James. Grace had fallen in love with him as soon as she’d seen him.

After breakfast, right at the scheduled time, Grace started a Skype call with James. He picked up quickly, sitting at the breakfast bar with Gabriel in his arms. On Grace’s end, Ajay remained off-camera.

“Hey Grace,” James said. He picked up Gabriel’s little arm to wave at the camera. “Hi Aunt Grace!” he said in a squeaky tone, imitating the baby. Grace giggled.

“Hey, James and Gabe! Is Alyssa there?”

“Yeah, hold on.” James yelled off-camera, and not five seconds later Alyssa walked into the frame.

“Hey, Grace!” she said. “When are you coming down for another visit? We miss you over here.”

“Hopefully pretty soon,” Grace smiled. “In the meantime, I just wanted to offer you guys my congratulations.” She was careful not to let anything on her face give away the news, but she knew it was a futile attempt because her brother knew her way too well to be fooled by a poker face. James raised his eyebrows at her.

“Congratulations? It’s a little late for that, Gabe was born half a year ago.”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t referring to that…” Grace deflected, drumming her fingers on the table and trying not to make eye contact with Ajay, who was trying not to laugh.

“Well, what is it, then?” Maybe it was just the early hour, but James hadn’t quite caught on to the fact that she was messing with him yet. From the way Alyssa’s eyes were narrowed, Grace knew she had guessed what was going on.

“It’s just not every day you get a future brother-in-law,” Grace said, avoiding eye contact with the camera. She couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto her face, especially when James shouted in realization.

“Oh my God, Grace! You guys got engaged?” He started fidgeting excitedly so much that Alyssa took the baby away from him, kissing his temple as she did so.

“Yup.” Ajay popped into the frame, standing behind Grace’s chair with his hands resting on her shoulders. Grace held up the ring for Alyssa to inspect.

“It’s beautiful, nice job!” Alyssa said to Ajay, nodding approvingly. Ajay grinned and kissed the top of Grace’s head. James was still sitting in the corner of the frame, shell-shocked.

“James? You alive?”

James still didn’t move until a plaintive meow sounded off-screen, prompting him to pick up the fluffy orange and white cat. After a second, he turned back to the camera.

“Guys…” he said, sounding a little choked up. “This is amazing.”

“I think so, too,” Grace said, putting a hand over Ajay’s.

“Have you guys thought about dates yet? Locations?” Alyssa asked, her wedding-planner side coming out. She had worked as a wedding planner ever since she’d graduated from UCLA, where she and James had met and started dating.

“We haven’t thought about an exact date yet, but I think we want a long engagement,” Ajay said, referencing the brief conversation he and Grace had had the night before after the emotions of the night got less extreme. “And we want the ceremony to be in California, so it’s easy for all our family to come.”

“I could totally help you guys plan it!” Alyssa said, trying to contain her excitement. “Discount rate, because you’re family.”

“That would be amazing,” Grace said. “We’ll get back to you when we know more. This only happened last night. You guys are actually the first people we called.”

After a brief conversation, a brotherly threat from James, and a silly face from Gabe, the twins ended their Skype call.

“That was exhausting,” Grace said, “Who’s next?”

“The one and only Shruti Bhandari. If we’re lucky, we might be able to catch Mohit too.”’

“I miss that kid,” Grace muttered.

“He misses you, too. I keep telling him he needs to text you more if he misses you so much, but he’s worried he’ll bother you.”

“Nonsense!” Grace shouted. “I always have time for Mo.”

“He’s going to be your brother-in-law,” Ajay pointed out. Grace grinned.

Ajay started the call to his mother, and it didn’t take her more than a few seconds to pick up. After some technical difficulties involving the camera on her computer, Shruti started speaking in rapid-fire Hindi. Grace was able to pick out a few words, enough to know that Shruti was admonishing her son for not asking Grace to marry him yet. Ajay buried his face in his hands.

“Namaste, Shruti. Aap kaisi hain?” Grace asked, hoping she’d got the pronunciation of the phrase correct. Shruti’s eyes widened, and she looked to her son.

“Amma, you know I’ve been teaching her Hindi!” Ajay said, exasperated. Shruti recovered and nodded.

“I’m well, Grace, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m doing great!”

“Well, since you clearly understood my question… Ajay, why haven’t you?”

“Don’t make assumptions, Amma.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Ajay grimaced, then picked up Grace’s left hand to show his mom the ring. Shruti gasped.

“He asked last night,” Grace said, a little embarrassed. She put her hand back down, and Ajay wrapped an arm around her.

“I wanted to make it special,” Ajay explained, “And I had a hard time getting our landlord to let me decorate the roof of our building.”

“Oh, betā, I’m so excited for you,” Shruti said, a large smile appearing on her face. “Do you know the date yet? Where are you going to have the ceremony?”

“We don’t know yet, it’s only been a day. Calm down,” Ajay said fondly, and his mom took a deep breath.

“Okay. I’m calm. Tell me about how you proposed!”

Sighing, Ajay told Shruti the story. Not long after, a seventeen-year-old’s voice rang through the kitchen on Shruti’s end of the call.

“Amma? Who are you talking to?”

Ajay grinned. “Mo! Come here.”

“Bhai?” Mohit came rushing into the frame. “Bhai! And Grace! Hi!”

“Hey, Mo!” Grace said. No matter how far apart they were, she loved that kid. “How’s school?”

“Sophomore year, almost over.” Mohit rolled his eyes. “So, how come you called? You never call.”

“I call lots!” Ajay protested, but Shruti took Mohit’s side.

“You would do well to call more. But go on, Ajay, tell him your news.”

Mohit pulled a chair up and sat next to his mom, resting his chin in his hand.

“Grace and I are getting married,” Ajay announced. Mohit cheered.

“Yes! I knew it! I knew it back when you were in high school that you guys were good for each other.”

“We didn’t even know that back then,” Grace joked, “but yes, your brother asked me to marry him last night and I said yes.”

Mohit grinned. “Congratulations. Now, I gotta go meet some friends at the pool, but you’re going to tell me all about it later, Ajay.”

“Will do. See you, Mo.”

Shruti laughed fondly as Mohit ran off. “Well,” she said, “I should probably go too. You guys should come visit soon, okay? I know Grace’s parents would like you to come visit as well.”

“Of course. Main aapse pyaar kartha hoon.”

“Mai bhee aapse pyaar karthee hoon. You too, bahū,” Shruti said, smiling at Grace. Then the call ended.

“What was that last part?” Grace asked, having been caught off-guard by the sudden return to Hindi.

“She said she loves you,” Ajay told Grace, drawing her closer and kissing her forehead gently, “And she called you daughter-in-law.”

“Oh. Wow,” Grace started, incredibly touched. “I think I might start crying again.”

“Oh, don’t. We still have to call your parents, my dad, probably Rosa and Mayleen…”

“Jesus,” Grace groaned.

“Then we should probably make some kind of social media announcement.”

“Nooooo,” Grace groaned. “Can’t we get any time for just us?”

“We have the rest of our lives, janu.”

Translations:

Aap kaisi hain? = How are you?

betā = son

Main aapse pyaar kartha hoon = I love you

[ceruleanchillin]

Fitting

Modern Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Note -  I just went to a word generator and took random words to use for plot ideas. It switches from the Reader to Arthur’s POV by segment (in case you get/got confused).

Annnnd, hooray for technologically illiterate, and borderline luddite, Arty.

Finally, I need to apologize to all the mobile users. It’s gotta be HELL scrolling past my shit in the tag ugh, I wish keep reading worked on mobile.😩

1. Rain

Arthur didn’t used to be too fond of the rain. It made travel hell on earth. If you were in a cold place, you froze. Hot place? It made you feel sticky, and teased you about feeling cooler. He didn’t understand why people were so in love with it. That was until he found a home.

The gang had worked long and hard to set themselves free from their former lives. Freedom looked like a sprawling, luxury ranch resort, staffed by former criminals. It amazed him that people were willing to pay big bucks to vacation the way he’d lived the majority of his life for free, but they were. He couldn’t knock the weirdness too much, because it allowed him to meet you, and gave him a place for a new start with you.

So he got it now. Why people enjoyed the rain so much. Sitting on a cozy living room’s window seat of the ground’s main house, your back to his as you dozed lightly, the rain painting the window next to you. He understood.

He looked down at you, and couldn’t stop what he’d been told was a “goofy” grin from spreading across his lips. You looked stunning, long lashes touching your cheek and lips pouting in dream concentration.

Absentmindedly, he ran his thumb across your cheek in soft swipes, enjoying the moment. He’d have to remember to draw this later.

You shifted lightly, paused to realize he’d been studying you, yawned cutely, and narrowed your eyes. “You watching me sleep Morgan?”

“Yes ma’am, you’re goddamn beautiful.”

“Translation, ‘I wanna fuck you on these new cushions-”

He quickly silenced you with a kiss, one that quickly devolved into laughter from both of you.

Yeah, Arthur Morgan could appreciate the rain. He would go so far as to say he downright loved it.

2. Bedroom

When people asked what you missed the most on your travels, it now came down to two answers. Arthur, and your bedroom.

The first one wasn’t surprising. In your five months working for the gang’s resort, you and Arthur had grown inseparable. The two of you let instinct and feeling be your guide, and it hadn’t disappointed you yet.

The second one was a bit more strange for most people. Being settled for most of their lives left them taking personal space, such as a bedroom, for granted. Residing with your new family had been the closest thing to settled you’d ever been. You found out it was pretty much the same for them, and Arthur shared your appreciation for a space away from constant prying eyes.

You burrowed your cheek into the pillow, trying to appreciate your bed and the sunrise at once. For the next three-and-a-half weeks, you would be in Australia, and would miss seeing the sunrise this way.

A warm arm came over your side, and you relaxed into the body attached to it. Arthur buried his face in your hair, his hold tightening when he breathed in.

“Your plane doesn’t leave til’ twelve, you trying to get away from me already?” he was teasing you, but you could still hear a slight edge to his tone. He respected your love of travel, but he missed you terribly when you were away from him.

You laced your fingers with his, and gave a tight squeeze. “Don’t even try it, you know I cry on the plane every time now. I didn’t do that before you.”

“I am both delighted and upset to hear that.” his voice was still colored by sleep, and somehow managed to hold a rougher tone to it.

“I suspect more of the former than the latter.”

He chuckled and moved his lips from his hair to your cheek. You hummed and sunk further into his warmth, allowing him to claim more of your skin with his kisses. The comfort of the bed, the warmth of Arthur, and the softness of his kisses, started to make you dizzy in the best way. Who knew Arthur Morgan was king at cuddling?

He pulled you under him, lips now on your own.

“I have to get ready, I told Mary-Beth I’d help her with giftshop duty before I leave.” very few of your words managed to surface between kisses, but you knew he’d heard you.

“Mary-Beth ain’t stealing my last few hours with you.” his reply was rough in tone, his next kiss firm to back up his point.

You felt your body abuzz with adoration for the man and his cute declaration. He was pouring how much he’d miss you into his actions. He wouldn’t outright declare he’d miss you, but he would show you.

Your hands danced across his back in gentle motions. “I’m going to miss you too Arthur.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. His gaze said a lot, and his follow up kiss said whatever it left out.

When he pulled away, he touched his forehead to yours, eyes closed. You recognized his expression as one that said he wanted to tell you something, so you waited.

“I was thinking, you might be able to come home to find your bedroom in mine.”

It took you a moment, but you realized what he meant when the poor man’s expression got panicked. He wanted you to move in with him.

“I’m thinking I might like that.”

A look of relief crossed his handsome features, before he ducked his head by your ear. “I’m thinking you might like something else to.”

3. Dizzy

The most important moment of Arthur Morgan’s life came at 4:45 AM on a Saturday.

He hadn’t been expecting anything beyond seeing you for the first time in weeks. That’s all he needed to be honest. He hadn’t seen hide nor tail of you, with the exception of a frustrating FaceTime (was that what you called it?) that everyone felt they needed to be a part of, in two weeks.

Every other moment of communication boiled down to phone calls, and confusing texts (goddamn, why couldn’t you let him keep his flip phone?!).

Arthur was a simple man, and he liked his communication the same way. Nothing was more simple than talking to you face to face. He could hold you, see your face clearly, and not make a complete fool of himself for lacking poetic graces.

So when he got a call from you, asking him to pick you up from the airport a week ahead of schedule, he nearly ran out of the house in his underwear.

The bustling airport pickup wasn’t the best place to play catch up, so the two of you followed what was tradition at this point. A tight hug, and then a comfortably silent ride to your favorite diner. There you would share a million questions and a million kisses, until your food was cold, and the sun was unbelievably hot through the window.

“I can’t imagine what’s back here in Texas that’d make you leave those Australian fellers behind.”

You flashed him a tired smile from across the both. Knees drawn up to your chin, hair messily piled on top of your head, and swathed in a colorful t-shirt, Arthur would bet money you were the most gorgeous thing on earth.

“I have a pretty good answer I think.” you carefully raised your hot mug of peppermint tea to your lips.

“Yeah? They wouldn’t wake up at the break of dawn and kill spiders for you?” he chuckled, raising his own mug of coffee.

You shook your head, and when you lowered your mug he saw you were smirking. “None of them got me pregnant.”

The coffee went down the wrong way, and aspiration kicked in. He spluttered, a hand coming up to grip the table. You leapt up, and circled the table to slide into his booth.

“Are you ok?!” your voice was wrought with concern as you thumped his back. “I hoped you’d have a funny reaction, but I wasn’t trying to kill you!”

He sucked in a mouthful of air, a burning pain snaking through his chest. “You pranking me? Like in those stupid videos you and Mary-Beth watch? I don’t wanna end up on that dumb video site.”

“Wow,” you gave that funny little ( loud ) laugh of yours, and threw your arms around his neck. “I expected a lot of reactions from you, but not that one. No, I’m serious.”

He sighed, and ran a hand over his chin. He was sure all color had drained from his face, if the faint dizzy feeling was anything to go by. He could you hear you calling his name, but his mind just kept wanting him to hear the word “pregnant”.

Your hands uncoiled from around his neck. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t say you got me pregnant either.”

He shot you a withering side glare at your joke. “No, I don’t believe it does.”

He could feel you staring at his profile, but he was too busy staring at his mug instead.

“Well...I need some kind of response big guy. I mean what do you think?” you placed your hands on the table, fingers pressing into each other. “Are you...mad?”

He could hear you were unsure, a sound that was foreign for you. Mad? He found it hard to get mad with you as it was, and this certainly wouldn’t have been a valid case for it.

“You know me better than that, of course I ain’t mad….just a lot of other things I guess.” he exhaled and turned to face you. “You certainly seem relaxed enough for the both of us.”

You grinned and shrugged, and he wondered why he had ever expected a typical reaction from you.

“I had two whole days, and a long ass flight to think it over. I’m not scared Arthur, I’m ok with this.” your voice was firm this time, steady. “It’s like a new adventure, you know me and adventure.”

He snorted. “Catnip.”

“I’m as settled as I’m ever gonna get, I’m fine with it, I can still explore the world in the future. But...I need to know where you stand.”

He felt your gaze on him again, and repeated your words in his head. Pregnant. The best thing he’d ever come across in his life, and he’s quite possibly ruined yours. You were a beautiful young woman who, while well traveled and experienced, still had so much to offer the world. Had he stolen that away from you?

He saw your hand tremble slightly, and took it into his much larger one. For a second, he just stared at it, before enclosing it in his. “My lady I stand with you. I just want you to know what you’re tying yourself to is all.”

He could sense you wanted to stop him. You didn’t like when it seemed like he was going to “put himself down”. Being honest is what he called it.

“You know about my past.” he exhaled and continued when he felt you squeeze his hand. “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig that’s committed too many atrocities to name. I don’t rightly know what kind of business I have being near a child for too long, let alone raising one of my own, but I would never leave you. You know that.”

“I do.” you squeezed his hand again, longer this time.

“So, if you wanted to do the leaving...If you wanted to give this child something different than me...or do something..else for yourself. I wouldn’t fight you.”

“I want to stay with you.” your arms returned around his neck. “Fight me about that.”

“I should.” he drawled, leaning into the warm lips you’d placed on his cheek.

“But you won’t.”

He faced you fully, finally, hand coming up to cradle your jaw. “No, I won’t.”

Goddamn he’d made yet another mess, but when he saw your face light up as you started talking about the future, he couldn’t be too angry with himself this time.

4. Coffee

Waking up before everyone else, to get the house kitchen for yourself, always made losing that extra bit of sleep worth it. You loved finally having a family, but the quiet moments were nice too. No bickering, it wasn’t quite time to worry about what the guests wanted (not that you had to worry about that again for a while), and you could just exhale and take your time.

It was also a great time for coffee, though you had tried to scale back with the pregnancy. Decaf coffee may not have given you the buzz of caffeinated coffee, but it still helped with the craving. Maybe Charles was right, and you were a slave to the bean….

You chortled into your mug at the thought.

“That mug funnier than me?”

You laughed again, extending your foot to slide out the chair across from you. “Arthur Morgan I bet you’re jealous of my pillow for getting to touch my hair all night.”

He took the offered seat, and sleepily ran his hands through his hair. “Probably, I do like that shampoo you use.”

You rolled your eyes, and brought your mug up to your amused grin. A comfortable silence settled between you two, as the morning’s first light began to shine through the giant picture window.

Arthur was the first to break it. “Are you sleeping ok? I know you usually get up early, but it was dark out. If you aren’t sleeping, we should probably tell th-”

“I’m fine mother hen, god you’ve been adorable through this.” you beamed at your protective man, who was currently blushing and ducking under your gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. It ain’t as noble as all that. I’m just trying to save myself the ‘this is your fault’ speech when the time comes.”

You sat down your empty mug and gave him a pitying look. “Aww. No baby, that’s still happening regardless. Sorry.”

“Can’t blame a feller for giving it his best.” he looked out of the window for a while, his gaze darting across the scenery, before clearing his throat. “Look here (Y/N). I’ve been sitting on this thing for a while.”

He reached into the pocket of his pajama pants, and you tensed up. It didn’t take a genius to gather what the moment’s energy was telling you. Sure enough, he produced a ring, revealing your instinct to be right. You gasped, though it came out somewhat choked, but didn’t speak.

“Now it’s not because you’re pregnant, Abigail said you wouldn’t like that to be the reason, and it’s not. I was planning on asking when you got back from Australia-”

“Yes!” you screamed the word that had been looping in your mind since you saw the ring.

“Ssh.” he half-laughed half-shushed you. “You want everybody in here? Nosey enough on their own, make em’ work for it at least.”

“I don’t care who hears.” you lightly stamped your feet on the tile floor.

He laughed again, blue eyes shining with confidence now that rejection was off the table. This poor sweet man thought you’d reject him, even after all you’d been through and had yet to go through. Not a chance.

“Well then.” he kneeled on the tile floor you knew to be freezing, and held up the ring. “Miss (Y/N) (L/N), I would very much appreciate if you would be an old fool’s wife.”

You pulled him to you by his shirt, and threw your arms around him. “Yes, but I don’t know any, so you’ll have to do instead.”

You two shared a solid embrace, Arthur ever careful of your growing stomach, and you nearly choking the life out of him. He took your hand is his, and you could feel his trembling. He slid the ring on your finger and just stared at it as if he couldn’t believe it. Maybe he couldn’t, you were sure his self-doubts were telling him it was all a lie. You kissed his forehead, hoping if he was having any such thoughts, they would perish. His hands came up to lay gently on the just-noticeable bump of your stomach.

“I swear to you, I will do my best to make you two very happy, and keep you safe.”

You just kissed him instead of responding with words. You didn’t have to. You knew he loved you deeply, and would do his best to keep his word. He was a big part of what you called home, and you couldn’t think of any place safer.

End Note - I took so much longer than I wanted with this. I just kept deleting and going back and forth. I hope it’s ok.I’m gonna be posting a HC for this AU, and then posting something for Hosea after that.

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Bird Brains

Rating: Teen for cursing and vulgar / sexual language 

Main Pairing: Bakugou x Koge (OC) Side Pairing: Kirishima x Nene (OC)

Words: 2,354

“Oh get that pout off your face, Katsuki. This will be fun!” Koge nudged her boyfriend in the side playfully, currently walking beside him with their arms linked. Bakugou’s pouty scowl didn’t budge, though he did glance down at her before his glare returned to the sidewalk. “I don’t know how you talked me into this shit, Utsuro. You know I hate double dates.” With a small shake of her head, Koge brought her free hand around, patting his arm gently. His skin was hot against hers, a telltale sign of agitation, but he wasn’t frustrated enough to bail just yet. “Last time you had a blast, though. And things have been so busy lately we haven’t gotten to see Eijirou or Nene in a long time.”

“Tch, we talk to them every day.”

“Texting and voice chats on video games isn’t the same. C’mon, it’ll be alright.” Rubbing his forearm gently, Koge rested her head against his shoulder. “I promise I will try to control Nene’s drinking.”

“Yeah right! You both enable and encourage each other. I know for a fact that you’re both going to get shitfaced, and she’s going to become this handsy little brat that I’m going to have to constantly swat away from you all night. Shitty Hair thinks it’s funny, but I don’t.” Bakugou turned his glare down to Koge, eyeing her with suspicion. “Last time it was just me and you two girls? She had her hands on your tits faster than I ever have!” Koge burst out laughing, reaching up to cover his mouth as other pedestrians gave them odd looks at his outburst. “Shh! Katsuki, oh my god, we are literally out on the street.”

She yelped as he bit her palm, quickly taking it away from him before he could do further damage. “I don’t care! You should be ashamed of how you act when you’re drunk, both of you. I swear, if I have to pull you off of each other, I’m going to fucking flip.” Bakugou huffed as Koge only continued to giggle, obviously annoyed with her not taking this as seriously as he was. “Katsuki, love, it’s okay. Nene’s told me she doesn’t have a crush on me anymore like she did in high school, anything she does is just… drunken impulse. And she always apologizes when she’s sober again.”

“Drunken impulses and words are just unfiltered urges and thoughts.”

“Very poetic, Katsuki. But seriously, it’s alright. Nene doesn’t mean anything by what she does or says. Please don’t get mad at her, okay?” Koge gave a small pout up towards him as his glare returned to her. With a click of his tongue and a roll of his eyes, Bakugou looked away. “You’re lucky you’re fucking cute, Utsuro. Whatever. If you’re so sure, then this time, I’m not going to do jack shit to stop her.”

“I’ll control her Katsuki. You just worry about enjoying yourself, okay? Maybe there will be a song you’d like to sing!”

“I don’t sing.”

“You can try! We can duet together.” Koge smiled, kissing his shoulder softly, though the black fabric of his shirt separated their skin. “After a drink or two, you always give in.” Bakugou gave a soft grunt, finally seeming to relax as he unhooked their arms so he could wrap one around her shoulders. “I’m not letting you get me drunk. We still have to take a train home.” They stopped at a light, waiting for it to change so they could walk across with the group of other people around them. Koge kept her arm around his waist, feeling her cheeks flush as he tugged her tightly against him, placing a firm kiss on the top of her head. “We can always just crash at Nene and Eijirou’s place, it’s on this street.”

“Fuck that. Tomorrow is my day off, there’s no way I’m waking up anywhere but our place. With your hungover ass next to me.” Arm still around her shoulders, he cupped her chin and tilted her head up, kissing her softly. “Not getting to wake up with you as often anymore fucking sucks.” Koge couldn’t help but to smile, getting another quick kiss before they began to walk with the crowd across the street. “You miss me?”

“Yes. That’s the only reason why I’ve agreed to come. This is our first night off together in a long time, I’m not letting you go without me. Even if that means I have to suffer through bullshit.”

Koge giggled softly, rubbing his back as they walked. “How sweet. I miss you, too, Katsuki. Hopefully things will calm down soon.” She glanced around as they reached the karaoke bar, just to make sure that their friends hadn’t been waiting outside. With no sign of them, Koge pulled out her phone, which had a text from Nene telling them what room they had reserved. “They’re already inside. Ready?”

Bakugou gave a heavy sigh, releasing her as he walked into the building. “Ready as I’ll ever fucking be. Let’s get this torture over with.” Since the hallway was a bit small, Koge walked behind him, slipping two of her fingers from each hand into the corresponding back pockets of his jeans so that he couldn’t walk faster than her. With a scoff, he glared at her over his shoulder. “Get your hands out of my pockets, you’ll pull my pants down.” Koge gave a sly smile, refusing to comply with his demand. “It’s a good thing you’re wearing a belt, then, Mr. Baggy Pants. Oh, here!” Koge came to an abrupt halt, yanking on his pants to make him stop as well as they passed the door to their room.

Instantly, Bakugou hissed out in pain, leaning forward a bit with his hands on his knees. “Utsuro… Did you forget that I have a dick and balls?” Koge gasped, covering her mouth before she burst out in giggles. “Oops, sorry, Katsuki! Did I crush them?” She rubbed his back, leaning over to look at his face. Brow furrowed in a pained glare, Bakugou’s crimson gaze locked into her. “You did, fucking ditz. I except a rub down later as an apology.” As he stood up straight again, Koge continued to snicker, patting his chest gently before turning her attention to the door. “Oh come on, Katsuki, that’s not the first time I’ve accidentally crushed your balls.”

Not waiting for his response, Koge opened the door to the karaoke room, peeking inside. “Helloooo?”

Before she could even get the door all the way open, she was snatched into a tight and familiar grip, the soft scent of floral perfume filling her sensus. “Ko-chan! Finally you’re here!” Koge returned the hug, though she had been a bit taken aback by the sudden attack. “Ne-chan, you’re gonna crush me!”

“Oh no I’m not!” Nene released her, smiling from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you could come. We already have drinks and snacks ordered, I remembered what you both liked.” Her grey eyes turned to look up at Katsuki, who was waiting quietly behind Koge with his typical frown. “Thank you for coming, Katsu. We missed you both!” Bakugou scoffed, following Koge in as Nene moved back to allow them entry. “Yeah, whatever. You already sound drunk.” Nene giggled, shutting the door behind them. “Well I may have taken a shot already, sorry!”

Bakugou ignored her comment as he greeted Kirishima, the two sharing a quick fist bump before Bakugou flopped to sit on the bench across from his friend, who had a wide grin on his face. “Hey man, it’s good to see you! I’m surprised Koge talked you into coming.”

“Tch, barely.” Bakugou looked up at Koge as she came to sit next to him, pulling her legs up onto the bench. “Honestly it didn’t take much,” She piped in, reaching across the table to snatch a pack of spicy shrimp chips. “He totally wanted to come.” Opening up the bag, she began to munch on the chips, watching Nene sit down beside Kirishima. “Of course he did, he likes hanging out with us. He just doesn’t want to admit it.” Nene teased the blonde across from her, picking up her sketchbook and placing it on her lap. “I like the new hair, by the way!”

Bakugou reached up and ruffled his hair at the comment. “It’s just an undercut, it’s not that big of a deal…” Koge giggled at his bashful response, raising a shrimp chip to his lips. “It makes a big difference, though. Makes you look much older and more mature.” Bakugou glowered down at the chip before he took it from her with his teeth, munching away as an excuse to avoid responding to her. Nene laughed softly, already sketching, as she had a tendency to do. “He looks great. I keep telling Kiri to get a haircut, but he refuses.” Kirishima scoffed softly, reaching up to touch his own hair. “Hey babe, my hair is fine. The longer it gets, the more I can spike it up, it looks rad.”

“Yeah, it’s rad until you complain about how much hair gel you have to wash out every night.” Nene’s eyes flashed up to the couple across from her every couple of seconds, where Koge was still feeding Bakugou chips. “Ko-chan, what do you think?” “Hmmm…” Koge looked Kirishima over for a bit. “I think it’s fine right now. Any longer, though, and you’ll start to look like a…. Ne-chan, what are those birds in America?”

“Cardinals! The red ones with the little flippy bit of feathers on the top of their heads.” Nene was quick to sketch one beside her current more serious drawing, showing Kirishima as he looked over at it curiously. “Hey, I do not look like that! My hair goes forwards, not back!” Nene smiled at him as he pouted. “It’s okay, you’re not as bad as Katsu. He looks like a Silkie.”

“A what?” Bakugou growled at her, chip between his teeth. Nene began to laugh, covering her lips with her pencil. “A Silkie chicken! Ko-chan, look it up on your phone.”  Too curious to ignore, Koge did as instructed, pulling out her phone and beginning to search. “Silkie… chick-- no! Blonde… Silkie chicken.” There was a moment of silence between everyone before Koge burst out laughing, holding the phone away from Bakugou so he couldn’t see. “Oh my god, he does!!”

“Let me see it!” Bakugou snapped, trying to reach for her phone, though she kept it out of his reach. “No! Katsuki, you can’t see it, you’ll get mad- Hey!” She was crushed down onto the bench as he climbed over her, snatching the phone away from her flailing hand. “Ouch, Katsuki! No, you can’t see it!” As she tried to take it back, Bakugou was easily able to hold her down, looking at the phone screen intently for a moment. Nearly instantly, his face flushed bright red, that familiar enraged snarl taking over his features. “What the fuck is this?!”

Koge and Nene both burst out laughing, though Kirishima was focused on trying to find the chicken on his own phone. Finally able to wiggle free, Koge sat up, snatching her phone back from him before he could blow it up on accident. “It’s a Silkie chicken!” Nene stifled her laughter as Kirishima leaned over towards her, head on her shoulder to get her attention. “Babe, what’s the phrase, I can’t find it--”

“Don’t show it to him!” Bakugou barked across the table, ready to jump across and take the phone away. “He’ll show it to all the other idiots and I’ll never get any peace!” Right as Bakugou finished his threat, Kirishima burst out laughing, having found the right picture just from a pointing of Nene’s finger. “Holy crap! Bakugou, it does look just like you!” Growling and trembling with anger now, Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest. “Fuck you! I do not look like that stupid fucking chicken!”

Koge reached across the table, picking up the bottle that held her favorite sake and cup. “Katsuki, love of my life, we’re just teasing you. You’re much better looking than the chicken.” As she poured herself a shot, she smiled slyly at her lover, whos glare was sharp enough to kill. “Want a shot?”

“... Yes.”

She handed him the cup that was full to the brim, allowing him to throw it back before taking the cup from him. “How is it?” Bakugou huffed, snatching the shrimp chips she had been eating to munch on them. “Shit. I can’t believe you like that one.”

“I love it. It’s so sweet, unlike my boyfriend.” Koge dodged a chip that was thrown at her before taking a shot of the sake, though she was unable to dodge a second one as it smacked her in the cheek while swallowing. Nene smiled, already back to drawing as she watched the two of them. “You’re both silly.” Kirishima put his arm around Nene’s shoulders, resting his head against hers gently as she watched her draw. “They have a weird relationship. Sometimes I don’t get them.” Nene hummed softly as she wiggled herself closer to him, eyes darting back up to the couple in front of them as she continued to draw. “I wish they would sit still.”

“Huh?” Koge looked up, shrimp chip hanging out of her mouth as she sat beside Bakugou, who currently had his arm on her head as if she were an armrest. “Are you drawing us?” Nene smiled, her cheeks flushing a bit. “Ah, I’m trying to. But it’s okay, it’s not serious.” Kirishima gave a soft huff. “What do you mean not serious? Look at that, it’s great!”

Nene turned dark red at the praise, bringing her knees up closer to her chest and hiding her face behind her sketchbook. “Kiri, stooooop. I get so embarrassed!” Koge smiled, filling a clean cup to the brim with sake before pushing it towards her best friend, who peeked out from behind her sketchbook curiously.

“C’mon, Ne-chan. Let’s have some fun.”

[dillydedalus]

what i read in july

THAT’S MORE LIKE IT aka i’m finally out of the (relative) reading slump for good & my bro james joyce was there

men explain things to me, rebecca solnit the original mansplaining essay is great, and still scarily relevant; the others in this collection (most on feminist issues) are also quite good; some aspects are a bit dated & problematic so be aware of that. 2.5/5

erschlagt die armen!, shumona sinha (tr. from french, not available in english) short but very impactful novella about a young french woman, originally from india, who works as an interpreter in the asylum system and becomes more & more broken by this system of inhumane bureaucracy and suffering, until she snaps and hits a migrant over the head with a wine bottle. full of alienation and misery and beautiful but disturbing language - the title translates to ‘beat the poor to death’ so like. yeah. 3.5/5

fire & blood: a history of the targaryen family I, george r r martin look, it’s a 700-page-long fake history book about a fictional ruling dynasty in a fictional world, and i’m just That Obsessed & Desperate about asoiaf (and i don’t even care about the targs That Much). anyway, now i know more about the targs than any ruling family from, you know, real history, which is like, whatever. this is pretty enjoyable if you are That Obsessed, although i will say that some bits are much better than others (there are some dry dull years even in everyone’s fav overly dramatic dragon-riding incest-loving family) and the misogyny really is. a lot. too much. way too much. BUT i did really like Good Best Queen Alysanne (her husband king joe harris is alright too i guess) and i found my new westerosi otp, cregan stark/aly blackwood, who both have Big Dick Energy off the fucking charts. 3.5/5 (+0.5 points for cregan and aly’s combined BDE)

the old drift, namwali serpell hugely ambitious sprawling postcolonial nation-building novel about zambia, told thru three generations of three families, as well as a chorus of mosquitoes (consistently the best & smartest parts). there is A LOT going on, in terms of characters, of plot points, of references to history (the zambian space programme) and literature (finally my knowledge of heart of darkness paid off) and thematically, and honestly it was a bit too much, a bit too tangled & fragmented & drifty, and in the end i probably admire this book more than i liked it, but serpell’s writing is incredibly smart and funny and full of electrical sparks 3.5/5

a severed head, iris murdoch the original love dodecahedron (not that i counted). iris murdoch is fucking WILD and i love her for it. this is a strange darkly funny little farce about some rich well-educated londoners and their bizarre & rather convoluted love lives. not as grandiosely wild as the sea the sea, but fun nevertheless. 3/5

midnight in chernobyl, adam higginbotham jumping on the hype bandwagon caused by the hbo series (very weird to call the current fascination with chernobyl a hype bandwagon but you know). interesting & well-written & accessible (tho the science is still totally beyond me) & gets you to care about the people involved. lots of human failure, lots of human greatness, set against the background of the almost eldritch threat of radioactivity (look up the elephant foot & see if you don’t get chills), and acute radiation syndrome which is THE MOST TERRIFYING THING ON EARTH . 3.5/5

normal people, sally rooney honestly this is incredibly engrossing & absorbing once you get used to how rooney completely ignores ‘show don’t tell’ (it works!), i pretty much read the whole thing in one slow workday (boss makes a dollar, i make a dime so i read books on my phone on company time, also i genuinely had nothing to do). i also think rooney is really good at precisely capturing the ~millenial experience in a way that feels very true, especially the transition from school to uni. BUT i really disliked the ending, the book never engages with the political themes it introduces (esp. class and gender) as deeply as it could and the bdsm stuff never really gets TIED UP LOL. so overall idk: 3.5/5

störfall: nachrichten eines tages, christa wolf quiet reflective undramatic little book narrated by a woman waiting to hear about the outcome of her brother’s brain surgery on the day of the catastrophe at chernobyl - throughout the day she puts down her thoughts about her brother and the events unfolding at chernobyl, as well as the double uncertainty she is trying to cope with. really interesting to read such an immediate reaction to chernobyl (the book came out less than a year after chernobyl). 2.5/5

the man in the high castle, philip k dick it was fine? quick & entertaining alternative history where the axis powers win the war, some interesting bits of worldbuilding (like the draining of the mediterranean which was apparently a real idea in the early 20th century?) but overall it’s just felt a bit disjointed & unsatisfying to me. 2.5/5

fugitive pieces, anne michaels very poetic & thoughtful novel about the holocaust, grief, remembrance & the difference between history and memory, intergenerational trauma, love, geology and the weather. i’m not sure how much this comes together as a novel, but it is absolutely beautifully written (the author is a poet as well) and very affective. 3.5/5

american innovations, rivka galchen short collection of bizarre & often funny short stories about neurotic women whose furniture flies away, or who grow an extra breast, or who are maybe too occupied with financial details. very vague & very precise at once, which seems to be the thing with these sort of collections. 3/5

fool’s assassin (fitz & the fool #1), robin hobb YAASS i’m back in the realm of the elderlings!!! i thought this was one of the weaker installments in the series - i still enjoyed it a lot, and Feelings were had, but it just doesn’t quite fit together pacing-wise & some of the characterisation struck me as off (can i get some nuance for shun & lant please?) and tbh fitz is at peak Selfcentred Dumbass Levels & it drove me up the fucking wall. molly, nettle & bee deserve better. still, completely HYPE for the rest of the trilogy. 3.5/5

JAMES JOYCE JULY

note: i decided not to read dubliners bc it’s my least fav of joyce’s major works & too bleak & repetitive for my mood right now AND while i planned not to reread finnegans wake bc……. it’s finnegans wake…. i kinda do want to read it now (but i also. really don’t.) so idk yet.

a portrait of the artist as a young man, james joyce y’all. i read this book at least once a year between the ages of 15 and 19, it’s beyond formative, it is burnt into my brain, and reading it now several years later it is still everything, soaring and searing (that searing clarity of truth, thanks burgess) and poetic and dirty, and stephen is baby, and a pretentious self-important little prick and i love him & i am him (or was him as only a pretentious self-important teenage girl reading joyce can be him - because this truly is a book that should be read in your late teens when you feel everything as intensely and world-endingly and severely as my boy stephen does and every new experience feels like the world changing). anyway i love this book & i love stephen dedalus, bird-like, hawk-like, knife-blade, aloof, alienated, severe and stern, a poet-priest-prophet if he could ever get over himself, baby baby baby. 5/5

exiles, james joyce well. there’s a reason joyce is known as a novelist. this is….. a failed experiment, maybe. a fairly boring play about an adulterous love-square and uh… love beyond morality and possession maybe??? about how much it would suck for joyce to return to ireland??? and tbh it’s not terribly interesting. 2/5

travesties, tom stoppard a wild funny irreverent & smart antic comedy inspired by the fact that during ww1, james joyce, lenin, and dadaist tristan tzara were all in neutral zurich, more or less simultaneously; they probably never met, but in this play they do, as dadaist poetry, socialist art critique, and a james joyce high on his own genius & in desperate need of some cash while writing ulysses, AND the importance of being earnest (joyce is putting on a production of it) all collide in the memories of henry carr, who played algernon & later sued joyce over money (tru facts). not my fav stoppard (that’s arcadia) but it’s funny & fizzy & smart & combines many many things that i love. 4/5 

ulysses, james joyce look i’m not really going to tell y’all anything new about ulysses, but it really has everything, it’s warm & human(e) & cerebral & difficult & funny & sad & healing & i always get a lot out of it even tho there’s bits (a lot of them) i’ll never wrap my head around. ultimate affirmation of humanity or whatever. also stephen dedalus is baby. 5/5

dedalus, chris mccabe the fact that this book (sequel to ulysses about what stephen dedalus might have done the next day) exists and was published ON MY BIRTHDAY is proof that the universe loves me. 

anyway this is very very good, very very clever, extremely good at stephen (less good at bloom but his parts are still good), engages w/ ulysses, portrait & hamlet (& others) very cleverly & does some cool meta and experimental shit. y’all it has stephen talking to a contemporary therapist about how he’s stuck in joyce’s text which is all about joyce & very little about whoever stephen is when he’s not joyce’s alter ego/affectionate but slightly amused look at younger self and ithaca is an interview w/ the author about how his relationship to his dad influenced his response to ulysses and I’M INTO IT. the oxen of the sun chapter replaces the whole ‘gestation of english prose’ w/ just slightly rewriting the first pages of about 10 novels published between ulysses and now & it does lolita w/ “bloom, thorn of stephen’s sleep, light in his eyes. his sire, his son’ and i lit. screamed. anyway i don’t want to give this 5 stars (yet) bc i think some of the experimental stuff ended up a bit gimmicky & didn’t add that much to the text but fuck. that’s my boy & i want to reread it right now. 4.5/5 ALSO it’s a crime no literary weirdo woman has written ‘a portrait of the artist’s sister’ about delia ‘dilly’ dedalus, shadow of stephen’s mind, quick far & daring, teaching herself french from a 3rd hand primer while her father drinks the nonexistent family fortune away and her older brother is getting drunk on a beach & starting fights w/ soldiers bc he’s a smartarse