#thank you epicfallenismine

[gothrockrulz]

post 10 gifs from your favourite movies without revealing the titles

Big thank you to @epicfallenismine for tagging me in this awesome meme here! How am I only gonna pick 10???

I tag @abyss-no-ishi, @littlemisshalcyon, @xxxmahteddykiss, @happiibaka, @delihrim, @brynhildr13, @aeryn-reany, @mousougirl, @myladylace, @x-i-n-t-h-o-s, @radioactiveferret, @rub-her-ducky, @kittykatsandbox, @thewriter-anachronism to play along. Go for it!

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

A look to open up the skies part two: Eddie and Y/N finally have their conversation.💗

GN!reader. Fluff, insecurity (Eddie), crying (Eddie and reader), swearing, intense positive emotions (love, appreciation, holy shit if I don’t tell you I love you right fucking now I’m gonna die vibes), cuddling, kisses, pet names (sweetheart, angel, babe, baby, honey), reader quotes LOTR while confessing their feelings to Eddie in a bid to make him believe.

A/N: I am so grateful and appreciative to every person who supports my writing. It’s my break from a busy and stressful life, ten minutes here and there every day to help me get through the roaring anxiety. I appreciate you all deeply and I do my best to give it back to you with my content.

Summary: Several people asked to see Eddie and reader have the conversation from THIS PIECE - basically, you love Eddie so much it made you cry, Uncle Wayne encouraged you to tell Eddie, and here you both are :)

Special thank you to @magnoliabutters for reading over the first incomplete draft of this fic and literally going paragraph by paragraph to help me with characterisation, dialogue and descriptions. I'm a little scared to post this because I haven't written for Eddie for about three weeks and tbh I probably should be using this time to study, but if I don't do something for myself, I'm gonna go insane in a very very unsexy way.

I hope you enjoy!😭💗🙏

E.M tags: @eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @seidenbros @bakerstreethound @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @gemstone-roses @hellfire1986baby @jslittlebirdie @comfortcharactercraze @heydreamchild @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @ourstaturestouchtheskies

E & W.M tags: @hellfirebabe @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @bakerstreethound @gemstone-roses @sweetpeapod @authorlovers @jslittlebirdie @heydreamchild @comfortcharactercraze @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @ourstaturestouchtheskies 

Fic specific tags: @jslittlebirdie @hoeshii @nyrovekyochi @potatos-library @viviminori

People from part 1:  @disturbedbeautywrites @comfortcharactercraze @decadentpaperduck @munsonsuccubus @eponaartemisa @epicfallenismine @silky-luxe @jslittlebirdie @lancey-mcclain

Word count: 3, 318.

Previously

"Eddie's got enough'a them walls up, Y/N. Don't you go giving him another." Wayne encourages you, gives you guidance and a light warning, all in two sentences. Only a Munson can pull that off.

Silence lapses again and Wayne finishes his cigarette, stands with a final gentle pat to your shoulder, and goes back inside the trailer. Leaving you with your thoughts and a quiet sense of determination.

You stand on somewhat shaky legs as you follow Wayne; the man sees you coming in the reflection of the glass window and spins at the last second to hold the door open for you. You smile at him in thanks and he nods at you, before raising his eyebrows in a, "now?" gesture. You find Eddie in that look and without thought do you nod. It makes him beam and you feel a deep sense of okay, this is it, settle deep inside your heart.

The final final nail is hammered in when Wayne grabs his keys and leaves for work, giving you a very meaningful, firm nod as he shuts the door behind him, his boots thudding down the steps.

It feels less like the encouragement he gave you a moment ago and more like being told 'enough thinking about it, hon - you're doing this now'; it is no secret to the Munsons that when you get all up in your head, you appreciate being told what you should do, just because you can't make out the trees through the thickness of the forest. The Munsons have taught you so much about yourself without consciously doing so. In many a conversation have you asked one of them - usually Uncle Wayne - why you had reacted to something a specific way or you have shared an 'ugly' thought with them, only for them to tell you that it is normal to feel this way. A boundary has been crossed which you hadn't known you had at the time, or something like that. The specifics barely matter when it comes to matters of the soul and heart; fragile things which must be handled with care.

In short, the Munsons bring you to your own attention and it excites you to spend time with them, wondering what other pieces of the tapestries of themselves and you which you will get to uncover with the hours in their company. Every day brings you something new, it seems, but today it is your turn to bring Eddie something new.

In allowing you to express yourself and your thoughts uncensored, the Munsons have watched you grow and blossom into the person you are, and they are so proud of you for it. Sometimes, you are in the right, and sometimes you are in the wrong. But you aren't ever shamed for it or made to feel less than; Wayne's stern manner and quiet tone of disappointment scares you more than anything else. You hate it when he gets like that with you (it's so very rare; you have to earn Wayne's disapproval. His love comes freely and without conditions) and so you always do your best to avoid disappointing him. Not in an unhealthy way, but he has done a great deal for you and you love him just as strongly as you love Eddie (though the nature of that love did differ between the Munsons), and so you only ever want to give him your best.

This situation is unfair only if you continue to conceal the truth from Eddie. If you don't tell him how you were feeling after this conversation, Wayne will know about it, and he will be disappointed that you had let this moment, this raw vulnerability, slip through your fingers. You want Eddie to feel loved, you want Eddie to be loved, and you want Wayne to be proud of you. Wayne knows this, he knows it, and he has used in the best of ways everything he knew about you to help you to help yourself and therefore, to give his boy everything he deserves and wants but had yet to truly be his. That part of it is in your hands but you have hesitated and so, just like always, Wayne steps up for someone he loves.

Someone really needs to give that man a raise.

Your tears have slowed but they are still there, dripping silently and steadily as you make your way down the trailer and around the corner into Eddie's bedroom. Your hands are visibly shaking and you hold them in front of you, your thumbs rubbing along the inside of your palms as you rejoin Eddie.

He looks up from where he's been lounging on the bed ever since you got here as you enter his room, but the welcoming smile on his face dies as quickly as it's born as he takes in what he assumes immediately to be pain. You have very obviously been crying and Eddie feels a slight pang of hurt that you had left his side when you were hurting. Do you not trust him to comfort you when you aren't okay? Maybe you don't want to see him like that, or you don't want him to see you? What about if -

But before his insecurities really begin to race through his tried and tired mind, an absolute galaxy threatens to split your face in half as you smile at Eddie. It's at total odds to the way tears occasionally slip down your cheeks, dripping sore but in a good way - you never want to stop loving Eddie just like this. The thought of loving Eddie any less than you already do absolutely terrifies you - and the emotional rollercoaster you must be on has Eddie concerned. It warms him, too, for so open are you that you're able to feel and express multiple emotions at once. Not like most others in Hawkins, who are so out of touch with themselves that they drift through their days apathetic to all those small moments, which lead into bigger moments and larger emotions.

Not like most others, who hide themselves away and therefore deny themselves the chance of a real and beautiful connection between themselves and the town they inhabit, the people they live with and around. One cannot silence one part of themselves without silencing all the others. Life must be lived fully and whole-heartedly embraced, Eddie has always believed, and despite all that you have been through, the ugly, the beautiful and everything in between, you do your best to adopt a similar attitude towards life and love.

Of all his little sheep, Eddie loves you the hardest.

He sits up, hands easily reaching out for you. It's so instinctive, so immediate, that it's almost as if his body knows what he wants before his mind does. You're not just smiling, he registers at the same time as he clocks your tears, you're smiling.

Eddie knows what a fake smile looks like. He knows what it looks like when someone is smiling to hide pain, when they're smiling to be polite or when they're smiling because they don't know how else to react. He knows what 'laugh or cry' looks like as an expression because he's seen it looking back at him across his reflection too many times for it to not break his own heart when the gift of hindsight inevitably smacks him in the face. Eddie knows pain and he knows joy and he knows love, limited though its expression has been due to how little of it he's received in his lifetime. Wayne managed to squeeze a lifetime of love into every day; his boy would never go without love again if the elder Munson had anything to say about it.

And he did.

Your smile, the one on your face right now, is nothing like Eddie has seen before. He can see love and sadness co-existing on your face, and it throws him for a loop. You're exuberant, practically glowing as you smile at him, but those tears, oh... Those are sad tears, tender tears, and Eddie can't quite figure you out. Usually, he can clock you with just a sweep of his eyes up and down your body, but this?

You're not masking, you're not hiding anything. Eddie knows when people are being genuine and he knows when you are being truthful, so right now, your face is making it look like you're feeling two opposing emotions at the same time, like a... "What's with the living mask, babe?" His voice is soft, an upward lilt at odds with the way his lips tug downwards at the corners. You practically trip over yourself to get to him, interlocking his fingers with your own as you climb on top of him, getting comfortable in his lap. It's always been your favourite seat, your denim throne, and you know it always will be.

"I need to tell you something, Eddie, and I - it's nothing bad," you rush to reassure Eddie when his dark eyes harden and his body stiffens under yours, you squeeze your grip in his and smile encouragingly when Eddie relaxes under you again, "I just... I'm nervous about telling you because I don't know how you'll take it, and Uncle Wayne said I should - "

Eddie cuts you off instantly, indignant that his dad knew about this before he did. "Wait, what's Uncle Wayne got to d - "

You shake your head, squeezing your grip around Eddie's hands again, "No, Eddie, please, I have something to tell you and Wayne was the only one I could talk to about wanting to tell you, and he says I should, so can you - will you - " you sigh, frustrated, looking everywhere but at Eddie. How are you supposed to talk to him about this when you barely have the words to explain it yourself?

Wayne's words come back to you,"You gotta be brave now. For him. Tell him, Y/N. If not for you, then for Eddie" and you find yourself taking a deep, deep breath, clambering up off Eddie and instead lying down beside him. He's quiet, contemplative, his dark eyes fixed on you. Still trying to figure you out even as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, hands splayed across your back, fingers spidered to touch as much of you as he can all at once. The change in position seems to jostle something in your brain and words begin to come to you, drifting gently across the hurricane of your mind.

You're a contradiction in some ways and blessedly predictable in others. But no matter what, you're a person with whom Eddie is well versed, and he will always grace you with the time and space you need to express yourself. You do the same for him, each and every day, and for every gesture of understanding you show him, Eddie does his best to return it tenfold. Even if he's indignant and slightly offended that his Uncle got to hear you out first, got to see your emotional state at its newest and therefore rawest, he's also very happy and relieved that the two of you, two of his three most special people (Dustin being the third, the little shrimp that he is), get on well enough to be able to swap confidences. All he's ever wanted is a family, just like this. Mismatched puzzle pieces which work gloriously together.

"I'm listening, Y/N."

You know that Eddie means it. His voice has a serious edge to it, his arms are tight around you, and though he's nervous, mind racing to try to suss you out, you know that the floor is yours and it will be until you're finished. Eddie is patient, painfully so, and he'll wait for you with the same grace he gives Dustin, who always takes a paragraph to say one sentence which Eddie will have figured out long before Dustin finishes. That's who Eddie is, and he's beautiful.

You shift so that you're lying facing Eddie. He moves so that one of his arms is under your head and the other is around your waist, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. You move so that your forehead is pressed against his. Eddie makes a soft, sweet noise, it's almost an "awh" but it's closer to an "oh", and nuzzles his face against yours, making you smile so tenderly it makes you want to cry again.

"Call me Curiosity because you're killin' me here, sweetheart."

"Then call me Satisfaction so I can bring you back."

Eddie groans at the joke and you giggle, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and just breathing him in as you steel your nerves. Be brave for five minutes, Y/N, for Eddie, just like always. There was a time for joking around and there was a time for knuckling down and being serious. It is something you and Eddie know all too well. So as the laughter fades and you're both high on the sight of the other's smile, you tell Eddie what you told Uncle Wayne.

"I'm... I'm upset at this thing but not... Not necessarily in a bad way, you know?"

Eddie freezes, his body tensing up as he looks at you with a look of concentration. He looks like he's getting ready to be offended but he's still giving you the benefit of the doubt. Uncle Wayne had heard you out and Eddie will do the same. He feels like something important is coming. Something which will both lead you onto a new path. He is cautious and cynical, but he wants so badly to believe.

You're about to take the plunge, and so is Eddie. Different routes to the same place. Together.

"Okay, so," you rush to get everything out as best and as fast as you can, the way Eddie's hackles came up preemptively making you feel like you need to say it now because it's already gone on for long enough. And, really, you want to tell him, you want to explain yourself, you want Eddie to know how loved he is, so you use that panic as well as what you're feeling for the man who has your five senses captivated, surrounded, to catapult the two of you forward into that place you long to take him, for nowhere can you go where he won't follow: the truth. "I..." You draw out the monosyllable as you search for words to explain something you can barely explain to yourself. "I'm not really upset in a bad way, as I said. Like, nothing is wrong. I just... I just..." You shake your head, frustrated as all hell by the fact that you had been able to discuss this with Uncle Wayne, but with Eddie's chocolate button eyes staring at you with his strong dark brows pinched together in concentration, his hands flexing around the duvet underneath him - the urge to run away is so very strong but for you, for you, he will stay and see it through - words are failing you.

The tension is killing both of you, but neither more so than Eddie, who is not a mind reader.

If you don't tell him, he's not going to know.

That thought, of Eddie never truly knowing how much you love him, combined with the cosmic ache Uncle Wayne's words have left in your chest, sends a cold shiver of something down your spine and all of a sudden, everything spills out of you. And you let it, feeling the burden of your heart lifting as you share it with the person you want to grow old with.

"You're just really kind and sweet and good even with all the shit you've gone through and I admire you so much for how strong you are. You know when to pick your battles, you know when to run, you know when to stand your ground, you still try so hard with what you have, you do your best, you give everything you have, but through it all, you're so you and it's amazing, Eddie. You're amazing and I'm not upset, I'm just... I just love you so much and it hurts and I told Wayne before I told you because I didn't know if you would be upset in a bad way when I cried over you and he told me you wouldn't be and - "

Large hot hands seize your face, thumbs spreading to touch the space behind your ears, and two chocolate button eyes look square into yours, the galaxies within roaming until they find what they're looking for; softening into molten pools when they do. You are slightly uncomfortable with eye contact, Eddie knows, and so as soon as he sees you looking back at him, he looks at the bridge of your nose instead. But something compells you to chase his eyes and you're gifted with seeing a smile start small at a corner of his mouth and then spreading like wildfire, until the apples of his cheeks crease and his eyes almost disappear into them as Eddie smiles just as widely, just as genuinely, as you have been this entire time.

"I love you, Eddie Munson. So much and for so many things, but mostly because you're you. That's why I'm so upset - because I love you but it's too much for my body to take and I want you to see how loved and wanted and cherished you are.

Eddie practically chokes on his words, whatever they are, and the next thing you know, he's all over you, hands and lips and hair everywhere as he punctuates his rain of "I love you I love you I love you" with kisses; one confession and one kiss at a time does Eddie return the sentiment wholeheartedly to you. You're overwhelmed, desperately so, with Eddie, and you cling to him as tightly as he clings to you, both of you squeezing, squeezing, and feeling like there is nowhere else you would rather be, no one else whom you would rather be with.

"Please don't leave me, Y/N, please. Please stay." Hushed words against your skin, fingers digging, lips trailing across your collarbone, Eddie everywhere all at once. You nod, not knowing how to say it any more than you already have but still feeling like you want to cry from love, with love and because of love.

Love.

Something which has been missing for the duration of your positive upset today slams into you and you stop to take a second. You haven't commented on any of Eddie's passions, on anything he loves the most, and won't this be a sure fire way to hammer home that you love Eddie for Eddie? To say I see you, I know you and what you love, and I want to share in those things with you, is truly a gift of a sentence. Decision made and words drifting easily across your mind as if they have always been there, a somewhat devious smile grows on your lips, your eyes soft as you gaze at the man you love most of all. "'I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.'"

Eddie stiffens, pulls back just enough to look at you, and then he smiles again, he smiles just as you did, that living mask, before he nuzzles down into your body, hugging you to him like you're a pillow. He settles in for the evening, his dark curls tickling the side of your jaw, his body so tightly pressed against yours that you can feel every plane of him. With your truth, with your tears and your bravery have you brought Eddie to the point where there are no words now, there's only emotions. And that's okay, you realise as you stroke Eddie's hair, his back, as you mumble love to him and hear him say it back instantly as his hands grip your hips in comfort and grounding - for which of you, you know not, but it doesn't matter. Some things can't be explained, they can only be felt, and that's just what the both of you intend to do.

Feel and love.

[gingerwritess]

What would Elliot's first word be and how would Loki react? Btw love your writing❤️

nobody move or you’ll scare the content away

ugh i am so sorry i haven’t been able to write much! thank anyone who stuck around! i’ve been having to focus mostly on my school related writing (plus got a job so woo!) and its definitely not slowing down anytime soon, but here’s a little something i did manage to get out.

i don’t think i’ll ever get over the idea of Loki being a dad

A light that isn’t supposed to be on is on in the kitchen.

Every night, you turn out all of the lights in the house but a dim lamp by Loki’s bedside, so this one is foreign enough to rouse you from your rest and wake you to the point of realizing that your husband is gone.

Grabbing your robe off the floor, you slip it on as you pad down the hallway, stifling a yawn. Not only has your baby on a strange, reversed sleep schedule, but Loki doesn’t seem to need sleep either. This isn’t the first time he’s been up and about in the wee hours of the night.

Maybe another nightmare, maybe just a messed up inner alarm clock…you never know.

Shadows dance across the walls before you even reach the doorway, and Loki speaks in a hushed little baby voice.

“I love you, Elliot! My little blue baby, I love you!”

You pause in the doorway before he can see you.

On the floor with his back to a cupboard, Loki, gloriously jötun and clad in only a pair of loose silk pants, sits crisscross and holds your tiny son in his hands out in front of him.

Elliot is cooing happily and squirming in Loki’s hands, his hands large enough to comfortably take the place of the little baby’s bed, and he brings him closer to place the gentlest kiss on his delicate forehead.

You peek your head in through the doorway for a better look.

Oh. Elliot’s blue, too.

The golden kitchen light softens Loki’s jötun skin to a sky blue and his eyes to almost pink, and if you didn’t already love him, he’d be terrifying. But in your kitchen murmuring to his son how they’re going to help each other and saying I love you like a prayer, he’s a work of art.

Blue and etched with markings, cold and blood-eyed, you know your son will look like him, too, all sharp angles and structure and untouchable as a knife.

Dangerous but beautiful as the winter.

“I love you, Elliot.”

He gurgles in response and kicks a chubby foot in Loki’s face, three of his tiny toes the same blue as his father.

Loki catches the little foot and kisses it, bending his knees to rest the baby against his thighs. “Do you think I’m getting better at this?” he whispers. “We can keep having these little rendezvous, I think they’ve been helping.”

Tugging the robe tighter around you, you fight back another yawn and lean as close through the doorway as you can manage without interrupting.

“I love you,” he repeats, holding Elliot up and running the tip of his finger along the four marks on his left eyebrow, curving softly above his pinkish-red eye. “Don’t worry, I have those ones, too.”

You watch him shift back to his aesir form, Elliot following suit when Loki kisses his chubby cheek—then he shifts back to jötun, resting his forehead against his son’s until the two of them are blue again—or at least, splotched with blue.

There in the dim light, Loki does it again, murmuring how he loves him and switching back and forth between their two forms.

“You are a very pretty colour,” he whispers with a small smile. He sounds like you do whenever he’s in this form, trying to convince him of his beauty. “Your mother thinks so, too. She’s very strange.”

Elliot gazes up at him with those big red eyes and sticks his toes in his mouth.

“That’s very insightful of you, Elliot.”

The baby giggles. “Ah-loo.”

Your heart stops and Loki’s voice dies in his throat.

“What?”

“Ah-loo!”

Loki scrambles to pull himself off the floor, a beaming grin spreading over his blue face. “What, Elliot?”

Your son keeps giggling and still half asleep, you don’t think to run to them before Loki’s running into you in the doorway, crashing into you while Elliot’s first word bubbles from his throat.

“Loki, that’s his first—”

“I was just coming to wake you,” Loki interrupts excitedly, landing a kiss that doesn’t quite follow through to your cheek. “Shh, shh, listen—who’s the cutest bluest baby?”

Held out in front of you in Loki’s hands, Elliot sticks out his tiny tongue and blows a spit bubble. “Ah-loo!”

“Loki,” you laugh, and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him, you can’t think of anything more that needs to be said; right now, Elliot is the only one with something to say, and he does.

“Ah-loo,” he giggles again, more than thrilled to see his mother watching him over Loki’s shoulder at this hour. “Ah-loo.”

Loki’s lips settle into the gentlest smile, gazing down at his son, and he leans his head against yours.

“Well, it’s not dad or ma,” he says and you know he’s still thrilled, “but I’ll take it. Whatever he means by ‘ah-loo.’”

The sound leaves Loki’s mouth and is immediately followed by another little gurgle from Elliot, and the two of them go back and forth a few times, ah-loo-ing each other until you can’t take the cuteness anymore and steal a thorough kiss from each of them.

“I’m so glad we didn’t miss this,” you sigh, following suit as Loki lowers himself back onto the kitchen floor, still crooning over your baby.

“Me either.” Loki sounds starstruck, red eyes glittering and blue skin absolutely freezing when you snuggle up against his chest so you can stare at Elliot, too. “Ah-loo, hm? What is that supposed to mean?”

Tiny hands reach for the both of you and he gives a happy little squeal. “Ah-loo.”

“Maybe he’s saying hello,” you whisper and run a hand over Loki’s chest. “Maybe he’s already developing your accent and says hello like an old British man.”

“An old British man,” he repeats with a frown. “And here I thought you liked my voice.”

Not liking that frown one bit, you dig your fingers into the soft bare skin of his side and Loki squirms, biting back a shout of laughter.

“I love you,” you huff and tickle him once more for good measure, “and every little thing about you. Especially your voice.”

Loki laughs, bops a finger gently on Elliot’s tiny nose, and turns to press a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, too.”

Little chubby arms reach for you again. “Ah-loo!”

The three of you huddle there on the kitchen floor until you get too cold against Loki’s icy skin and convince him to come back to bed—bringing Elliot with you, of course.

Loki eventually shifts back to aesir form and you gratefully cuddle up to his chest, right next to your little son, who has finally stopped squirming and seems to be settling down on Loki’s chest as well for the last few hours of sleep.

“I love you,” Loki murmurs, one hand on Elliot’s back as the other gently traces down your cheek.

You mumble it back and grab his chin to steal a kiss, and Elliot gurgles one last “ah-loo” into Loki’s chest.

You’ve barely started to consider it a kiss when your eyes fly open in shock.

“Ah-loo,” you gasp and break away from Loki with a smack. “I love you.”

“I love you, too?”

“No,” you laugh, and Elliot opens his eyes once more to beam up at you. “He’s saying I love you, Loki.”

Loki falls silent and you think that may have broken him, but then he wraps his arms around the baby and hugs him as tight as he possibly can without hurting the little guy.

“I love you,” he says again, this time hesitating, curious if that’s really it—

“Ah-loo!”

That’s better than any variation of “ma” or “da” that you and Loki could’ve hoped for.

―   ―   ―   ―

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424@fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas

~ scroll here! ~

@doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15

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@mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys

~ scroll here ~

@highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine @stubby-toe-589331 @fandomnerdsarecool @retrofantasyland @arch-venus25 @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @littleredstarfish @marshyrebelcloud @okie–loki @atterodominatus @stfxlou @pandacookieowo @tonakings @shinisenko @tinchentitri @nildespirandum @thefallenbibliophilequote @vodka-and-some-sass @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sadwaywardkid @lokioneshot @brooksaza @wild-honey-piy @ellaenchanted91 @watermelon-lights19 @just-another-romantic @skinny-macncheese @lokisironthrone @rorybutnotgilmore

~ scroll here ~

@toozmanykids

[meibemeibelline]

Tagged by @sabraeal thank u <3

Rules: There are no rules.

Top 3 pizza toppings: cherry tomatoes, prosciutto and pineapple. but not together. my taste buds might be cursed but they’re not THAT cursed

Hoodie or sweater: team hoodie !!!!! though i often wear sweaters, hoodies are just infinitely more comfortable and bonus points if there’s a pouch bc hand warm :D

Last outgoing message: by verbatim, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA CONTRAAAAASSSSTTTTTTT“ bc bts is releasing concept photos for their new album and the first they were in all-white and the second was all-black with GIANT BLACK WINGS which was dope and i wanted to scream abt it

Last animal you gave affection to: UNFORTUNATELY THERE IS ONLY ONE ANIMAL IN MY LIFE REALLY and that is my best friend’s dog he is a vanilla labrador and i lov him. i last pet him 2 1/2 months ago

Currently working on: technically it’s my mini album but i haven’t touched it in a month bc writing music is hard for this bean brain :’)))

Put your current playlist on shuffle and give up the goods: Subaru by Alice Nine

How’s that song make you feel? silent. but like, the kind of silent where you were just bawling your eyes out but there’s no tears left so you’re just sitting there staring into space in the muted remnants of the sadness that just poured out

Tagging: @epicfallenismine @akai-vampire @mo-ehhhh @ruleofexception @hyvens aaaand anyone who wants to do it

[imaginethatalena]

#63: Kylo Ren x Reader

Thanks @itamenherzednan for requesting ❤ 

Tag List: @epicfallenismine

Request: Hello there 👋🏻 i just wanna say that I love your Kylo Imagines 💕 so I was wondering if you can write something for me, like one where the reader is jealous of Rey because kylo ask her to join him and then she yell at him but he kiss her telling her she’s the only one for him (they knew each other since Luke training camp, she’s a force sensitive too) Hope you can do it 💕 buckets of love and merry Christmas 🎄

Rules for requesting.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE LAST JEDI

“I can’t believe you sometimes, you know that?” you snapped at Kylo as you both readied yourselves to board a ship down to Crait. 

“What do you mean?” he asked you. 

“Don’t play dumb!” You turned on him with your lightsaber ignited, the crimson tip glowing at his throat. “You asked the scavenger girl to join us!” 

Kylo gave you a long hard look, anger at your threat boiling in his eyes. 

“Snoke thought she would be a powerful ally,” he told you. 

“She was my replacement,” you hissed. 

“You’re jealous,” he said.

“I am not jealous!”

He used the Force to yank your lightsaber from your hand into his. He stepped forward before you could stop him and smashed his lips to yours. You returned the angry kiss, finally able to let go of your passion now that Snoke was dead. 

Kylo stopped the kiss to press his forehead to yours. “The girl means nothing to me. You are all I need. You’re all I’ve ever needed since Luke failed us.” 

“I love you, but if you’re lying, I’ll kill you.”

“I love you, too.” 

[freestridingprinces]

Shout out to my supporters

I just want to take a moment and say thank you to the people that have loved me through my ups and downs with this blog. I love every single one of my followers even if all you do is read. Nothing is wrong with that.

@epicfallenismine You’re the best Mum a girl could ask for. You’re so sweet and nice and I love our conversations. Thank you for being there for me.

@bigbrothermatsuoka One of my constants. I can’t put into words how much your support means to me. You’re so sweet and your excitement about our boys makes me excited too! Thank you for being a shoulder when I didn’t even know I needed one.

@vambaer Thank you for hopping on board with me. You’re so sweet and kind and gosh your bunnies are adorable! Thank you for your support as well. 

@tomoyohime Thank you for coming and reading Heath and other things. I also thank you for your support. I really needed it!

@saltytaledaze Abby, you’re so sweet and your love for Reiji made me love him again! Thank you for coming aboard!

@kanero16 Thank you for asking for my personal blog. It’s been fun getting to know you and exposing you to the other boys! (Ryunouske is bae)

[samwise-gamgce]

Tag Game

Rules: Tag people you want to know better or just because you feel like it.

I was tagged by @mortomary and @random-jot. Thanks! :D

Name: Guess I could use my real name, why not? Alexandria

Sign: Pisces

Height: 5′0"

Time: 13:19

Birthday: 8th March 1996

Average Hours of Sleep: Usually 5 or 6, currently about 9.

Lucky Number: Don’t have one but I like the number 8 because it is my birthdate.

Relationship Status: Single��

Favourite Colour: Blue

Lipstick or Chapstick: Both!

Song Stuck in My Head: I surprisingly don’t have one at the moment… odd.

What Did I Last Google: German to English

Last Thing I Ate: Some cake I made myself.

Last Movie I Watched: Black Panther

Last Show I Watched: The IT Crowd.

Top 3 TV Shows: Game of Thrones, Stranger Things, Agents of SHIELD

Last Books I Read: Fellowship of the Ring - JRR Tolkien

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

What Do I Post: Fandom stuff.

When Did I Create This Blog: Summer 2017

Other Blogs:

@master-occlumens

Do I Get Asks: I think I have gotten a total of five.

Following: 117

Followers: 63

I tag: @hellish-student @epicfallenismine @lunarcoeur @star-inthe-making @aredhel-of-thrawndolin @blueeyedstark and whoever else chances upon this and would like to give it a go.

[renoftheshadows]

Tagged by @epicfallenismine thank you! <3

Relationship Status: Single af

Favorite Color: turquoise and purple

Top 3 Ships: Sam Winchester/happiness, Ben Solo/happiness, Bucky Barnes/happiness (do u see a theme here lmao)

Lipstick or Chapstick: Chapstick. Usually Burt’s Bees. I like lipstick tho. I just... don’t wear it for some dumb reason.

Last Song: “The Truth Beneath the Rose” by Within Temptation

Pray for me cause I have lost my faith in holy wars Is paradise denied to me cause I can't take no more Has darkness taken over me, consumed my mortal soul All my virtues sacrificed, can Heaven be so cruel?

Last Movie: Doctor Strange. Tomorrow it will be Black Panther because we’re going to see it finally.

Top TV Shows: Supernatural seasons 1-5, Bones, Castle, Daredevil, Jessica Jones. There’s a looooot of stuff I want to watch tho.

Tagging: no one bc I don’t have the spoons and I think most of my followers and people I follow have done this one. If you haven’t been tagged yet considering this me tagging you. :D

[darkwing-katy]

Second Chance - Part Eight

Guys, I’m posting this from my new home in Florida! Whoot-whoot!

Thank you so, so much for your patience with me. My life has gotten incredibly hectic, and it’s taken me a while to be able to update. But it’s finally here, chapter eight of Second Chance! It will be a while before chapter nine comes out since I’ve got to unpack and apply for jobs and get settled in here. Thanks to all who have commented on this fic or messaged me--I still jump for joy when I get a notification that someone’s said something about it! Let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters! Special thanks to @sannvers who is busy with band camp and still managed to edit for me.

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 7,466

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress offers you a second chance to save him.

Tagging: @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli@hobbithorse19@leah5684 @princessbelgoof @captainskyline @theoncergames@geeky-girl-394@were-allstoriesinthe-end084 @brooke-supernatural16@certainasthesvn@jordyhaley @superlokidwholock @smilesnjh @prongspower@bitchingqueenoferebor@scarletdarkholme @hemmingbaes @bae-kage @areuslow@lovelylpevensie@uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @moonbeams-and-pie @17gnomes-in-a-trenchcoat @superwholockedrosx @panda-reads-stuff @ultimatetrashlord@elenawrit@the7thsilence @blackxthexbeast @rainwing-galaxy @arkhamsnight @imoyu-trashblog @martapetrovic @ciaprincess @juggernaut-jones@fangirlx26@fangirlx26 @epicfallenismine @izzymaria1994 @loveablelulu13 @malfoy-milkovich-royalty @kylorenlover15 @banana-cat @withouthannah @stone0502 @shiroyuki18 @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag @lainris @banana-cat @samaxraph99 @honey-badger-dont-give-a@daisiesflower @afairytaledreamer @flufycorn384 @lovelyturtle36 @kairi73 @aerondrage @softbcky @pnchingwalls101 @chalatea @crowleysfavoritehuman @afairytaledream @silverwingedfox @asymmetrical-flower-child @my-whataguythat-gaston @elyza-jeanette @migirl323 @soulgirl518 @betterlattethennever @bonemarrow-writes 

Previous Chapter

“I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t let us take a carriage,” Adam grumbled, though he was only half-serious.

“You’re enjoying this just as much as (Y/N) and I are, so stop complaining,” Belle replied, rolling her eyes.

It was a bright morning, with not a cloud in sight. For now, a gentle breeze cooled you, but you knew that come afternoon, it would be quite warm in the direct sunlight. You leaned forward and patted your horse’s neck; you were going at a slow enough pace that you felt comfortable doing such.

The three of you were en route to Villenueve to officially announce the engagement of Prince Adam and Belle, and also to invite the whole town to the wedding celebration. The happy couple had decided they didn’t want to wait too long, so the wedding was to be held in the beginning of August. Today marked the beginning of July, which meant you had a month to plan the festivities.

It was a bit daunting, but considering Adam had dozens of servants, you were fairly certain it could be done. In fact, tonight, you, Belle, and Adam were to have a meeting after dinner to start discussing the details.

You allowed your thoughts to drift to Gaston, whom you’d visited briefly before leaving. He’d been asleep deep enough that your approach hadn’t woken him, and you’d decided to let him continue sleeping. You had left enough food for both breakfast and lunch with him, since you weren’t sure if you would be back at the castle until evening. He hadn’t stirred, not even when you accidentally set the tray down too fast and the plates had clinked together. Macbeth was sitting next to him, a piece of straw marking his place.

Remembering the sight brought a faint smile to your lips, at least, until you thought about his uncharacteristic behavior last night. Your smile faded at the memory of the depressed man who hadn’t even bothered flirting with you. LeFou will have an idea of what to do, I’m sure. Although should I even bother cheering him up? Maybe this is the slap in the face he needs to realize his faults.

“…right, (Y/N)?”

You shook your head and looked at Belle. “What?” you asked.

Belle smiled. “I was just telling Adam about how I thought we should have doves released from behind us once the priest declares us man and wife,” she replied.

You frowned. That didn’t sound like Belle at all. “Really?”

“No!” Belle shook her head at you, her eyebrows creasing as if she was disappointed in you for believing her. “Are you alright? You’ve been awfully quiet this morning.”

“I’m fine.” One of her eyebrows raised in doubt. “Really, I am!”

“Did something happen last night?”

“No! Everything is fine!” you insisted. You met Belle’s eyes with your own in the hopes that she would drop the issue. She squinted a little bit, as if trying to peer past your defensiveness, but you met her gaze steadily. You could handle Gaston; she had a whole wedding to plan.

She blew a tuft of air out her nose and turned back to her fiancé, knowing that you were just as stubborn as she was and that if you didn’t want to answer her properly, you weren’t going to. The small victory made you smile internally, though you were careful to not let it show on your face.

Adam must’ve sensed the rising tension, as he suddenly cut in with a, “I think I’ll ask Lumière to be my best man.”

Both you and Belle smiled at him, the momentary tension dropped. “Oh, he’ll enjoy that,” Belle grinned. “He’ll be singing about it for days before and after the wedding, just to annoy Cogsworth.”

Adam winked. “I’m almost counting on it.”

You imagined the tall man you’d met yesterday dancing around the older servant and laughed, catching the prince’s attention.

“Will you be alright dancing with him for a song or two, (Y/N)?” he asked, turning his blue eyes on you. “Plumette won’t mind.”

“Who’s Plumette?” You remembered hearing her name a few other times, but you’d yet to meet the woman.

He thought for a moment before replying. “You’ve seen the Madame and the Maestro, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

“Plumette is Lumière’s love. She’s one of the maids in the castle, and Lumière is utterly devoted to her.” Adam glanced at Belle as he said that, prompting a soft smile from her. You blushed at his words and actions, feeling once more like you were intruding on a private moment between lovers.

“If she’s his lover, then are you certain that she will be okay with us dancing?” you asked slowly.

Both Adam and Belle nodded. “Oh, yes, I’m positive of it,” he affirmed. “But I will say, Lumière is quite the dancer. Are you up for that?”

You and Belle started laughing at the seriousness on his face. He scrunched up his face in confusion. “Your highness, I enjoy dancing,” you said, still laughing. “I just don’t get the opportunity to dance very often.”

A sudden vision played in your mind’s eye: you, in a cream-colored ballgown, surrounded by many, many other couples in similar colors. Maestro Cadenza sitting at his harpsichord, the beautiful Madame de Garderobe next to him, arms outstretched as she sings a marvelous aria. You with Lumière, smiling at each other; the feeling of floating as you glide around the grand ballroom that you so admired. A bow, another spin, a partner switch. You look into green eyes that smirk at you, matching the expression on your new partner’s lips. Firm hands grasp you, one around your waist, the other holding your hand out as you begin a waltz. The rest of the dancers fade away, leaving only you and Gaston and the music. He’s wearing a red vest over his usual ruffled shirt. His hair is perfectly coiffed into its usual ponytail, a red ribbon tying it back. You let him lead you in the steps, fully trusting that he knows what he’s doing.

The vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared, only lasting a few blissful seconds.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a partner like you,” Adam said, eyes twinkling. You nodded at him, and the conversation turned to food. You paid attention and chimed in when you felt like you had a worthy comment, but for the most part, you let the engaged couple discuss the meal. After all, it was their day.

By the time you all but reached the village, the meal had been decided upon as well as a general idea of decorations. During the last few moments before entering Villenueve, you noticed Adam sitting up even straighter, his casual demeanor still there but somewhat diminished as he made himself more…princely. He looked calm to your eyes as you rode into town, but when Belle put a gentle hand on his arm, you realized he must be nervous. After all, hadn’t you heard yesterday that he’d used to tax the villagers heavily? The poor man probably felt guilty for his pre-curse self’s actions.

A crowd gathered around you three as you went further in. You felt uncomfortable with the amount of attention on you, even though you were certain everyone was watching the royal couple more than you. Why couldn’t we have simply had the town crier announce it? you allowed yourself to wonder as you tried to sit up straighter. It would’ve made this much, much easier.

But you knew part of the reason, at least, was Adam’s guilt. He wanted to show that he was no longer the man who would let a village suffer to pay for his pleasures. He wanted to demonstrate that he was approachable, a prince that they could rely on and trust. It was all an effort to fix his image, although you were also certain that even if the villagers all hated him, he would be content as long as he had Belle’s love.

Would Gaston do the same? He clearly felt some guilt for his actions, based on the conversations you’d had with him. He might not apologize out loud for what he did, but showing remorse counted. Well, in your mind it did, but only because you were sure that his pride would never allow him to fully apologize the way he should. It bothered you, but you shrugged it off. After all, you win some, you lose some.

You scanned the crowd for LeFou but didn’t see him. The three of you continued through the marketplace and stopped at the washing fountain, where you all dismounted. The crowd followed you and stood there, muttering to one another about the reasons why the prince had come to town. Adam sucked in a deep breath as Belle tucked her arm around his. You looked for LeFou again and spotted him in the middle of the villagers, Tom, Dick, and Stanley standing by him. He gave you a small wave that you reciprocated. Suddenly you felt a lot better about everything.

“People of Villenueve, I have a very important announcement to make,” Adam began, his voice silencing the curious murmurs. “I know I haven’t been the best prince in the past, and for that, I am deeply sorry. I promise you, it will never be like that again.” All eyes were on him and Belle. “As part of my amends, I would like to invite you all to a royal ball next month. It’s not just any ball, though.” He looked at Belle, who beamed at him. You heard a couple close to you whispering, but you couldn’t make out their words.

“It will be a ball of celebration—celebration of a curse being broken, celebration of families being reunited, and, most importantly, the celebration of Belle and I’s marriage.”

It felt as if everyone was holding their breath in the seconds that followed his announcement. Then someone began to clap. The lone clapper was soon followed by cheers and shouts and even more clapping as the whole town joined in. Even the Bimbettes and the schoolmaster, who hated Belle, were whooping at the announcement. You grinned; the clapping had started from the part of the crowd you’d seen LeFou in.

You looked back at the engaged couple. Belle was laughing and covering her mouth at the sight before her. You looked closer and saw that her eyes were watering—the town who called her ‘funny’ and practically ostracized her at times was now cheering for her with genuine joy. She didn’t need their acceptance, but you could see that it still meant a lot for her.

You couldn’t deny a perverse sense of pleasure at the scene. You hated it when everyone had made fun of your friend and her kind father (and you, occasionally). Now that she was marrying a prince, they wouldn’t dare speak against her so openly. She wouldn’t have to worry about Maurice being called ‘crazy’ or thrown into an asylum (granted, that was more Gaston’s fault than anyone else’s, but still). She could finally stop worrying about what Villenueve thought of her.

A man—Monsieur Ames, who often sold eggs in the market and flirted with Madame Charee—stepped forward, his arm raised. Adam nodded at him. “Congratulations, your highnesses,” Ames said, bowing to both him and Belle. “I just—did you say we were all invited?”

Belle laughed. “Yes, of course! There’s room for everyone who wants to come,” she replied with a kind smile.

Ames’s dark eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Thank you, your highnesses! Let me know if you need any eggs!” He bowed again and turned to step back into the crowd.

“Actually, we wanted to let everyone know that you are all welcome to participate in our preparations,” Belle added. “We’ll need help to get everything ready on time.”

All of a sudden, everyone began throwing their arms up with shouts of what they could volunteer to the wedding. Some of it was unnecessary, you knew—Belle was planning on working with Garderobe to design her wedding gown, so she wouldn’t need the seamstresses, and you were fairly certain that Lumière would be insulted if someone not of the castle cooked the meal. But there were many offers to help get the grounds ready, and you knew that would be a task that would require lots of teamwork to get done.

You caught another glimpse of LeFou in the crowd, and this time, he made eye contact with you. The both of you smiled, and he pointed towards the tavern. “Meet there?” he mouthed—or maybe he said it, but it wasn’t like you’d be able to hear him. You gave a nod of affirmation, hoping that he’d understand it might be a while. With a grin, he spun around and headed in that direction.

You sighed. You were eager to talk to him, but first things first. You returned your gaze to Adam and Belle, who were already talking to villagers about what they could do to help. Oh, yes, it was definitely going to be a while.

You slumped down into a chair and let your head slide to the table. Lefou laughed. “Long day?”

“You have no idea,” you mumbled against the rough wood. He laughed again, and you slowly lifted your head up. “And they’re still at it. I have no clue how they do it.” You’d talked to maybe a third of the villagers before eating lunch with Maurice, then you’d left Belle and Adam to continue talking to the villagers on their own while you met LeFou. Their patience and politeness had no end, it seemed.

Then again, Belle would probably say the same about you if she knew the depth of your interactions with Gaston.

Before you could bring up the captain, Stanley, followed closely by Tom and Dick, walked up to your table. He had two mugs in hand, as did Tom (or was it Dick? You never could tell them apart). “Brought you another drink,” he said easily, setting both mugs down. “There’s one for you, too, mademoiselle,” he added, sliding one mug to you.

At first you were confused by his actions, but then you saw that Tom (at least, you’d decided you were calling him Tom) also had two mugs of ale, one of which he gave to Stanley. “Thanks,” you said, grinning at the man. A little beer would be nice right now. I’ve earned it, you thought, grabbing the handle and taking a gulp. The bitter liquid made you splutter; you didn’t drink often, and you were unused to it. The men chuckled at your reaction, but you could tell it wasn’t out of meanness. With watering eyes, you choked down the drink and gave them a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

“Maybe next time you shouldn’t take such a big gulp,” Dick said helpfully.

“Yeah, good idea,” you muttered, pushing the mug away from your body. After shaking your head, you sat up to better face them all. “So…erm…” Well, this was awkward. How on earth were you supposed to ask LeFou about Gaston with them around? “How are you?”

Great, (Y/N). Engage them in conversation. That’s the way to get LeFou by himself.

“Good,” Tom replied. Dick shrugged in agreement.

Stanley’s eyes flicked to LeFou and back. “Good,” he agreed quietly.

You opened your mouth again, but before you could ask another generic question, LeFou leaned forward and spoke: “We’ve been asking around about Gaston,” he said in a low tone.

You flinched at Gaston’s name. Wait, did he tell them the truth? you wondered, feeling suddenly nervous. You’d trusted the shorter man—surely he wouldn’t betray your trust like that!

“Yeah, LeFou mentioned that you were helping him plan the funeral, so we helped him ask people to attend,” Dick said after taking a gulp of beer.

You felt a wave of relief at his words. LeFou hadn’t told them the truth. The secret was safe (for now, the dark voice in your mind muttered). “How did that go?”

From the looks of the four men in front of you, not well. “It seems that most of the townspeople are still mad about the whole storming the castle and unwittingly leading them to destroy their loved ones,” LeFou explained.

You winced. Well, when you put it that way…I can’t really blame them. “Fair enough. And that’s everyone, you said?”

“Pretty much,” said Tom.

“Except maybe a few,” Stanley indicated the table.

Dick waved a finger. “And a few that are not currently present.”

“Such as Jean and Ames and Stanley’s sisters—” continued Tom.

“Sisters?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“You know, the triplets?” Tom looked at you like he was genuinely surprised you didn’t know.

“Wait, the Bimb—the triplets?” you exclaimed in disbelief. You looked at Stanley, who lifted his mug in acknowledgement. “Those girls are your sisters?”

“Yes, they are,” he sighed and took a drink.

Well, there’s something you don’t find out every day. “Well…it’s good that not everyone hates him,” you said, more to yourself than to the rest of the table.

“Not that it matters,” interrupted Dick, “since he’s dead.”

“To Gaston!” declared Tom, who’d somehow almost finished his mug and lifted it up. Dick and Stanley echoed him also raising their mugs for a drink.

You felt warmth creep up your neck at their sadness. You knew it was for the best that they didn’t know of his survival right now, but you still felt guilty that they were mourning their friend.

LeFou sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I need some air,” he mumbled, playing along with the dampened mood. You took that as your cue and stood.

“I’ll come with you. I need to go back to the castle soon, anyway.”

“Will you be alright?” Stanley asked the stout man as he rose from his chair.

LeFou patted Stanley’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.” He smiled at him, and for a moment, you felt like you were missing something between them. You gave yourself a mental shrug, chalking it up to their friendship. After all, you and Belle could sometimes speak without words.

“Goodbye,” you told them, giving a small wave. They all raised their mugs in farewell of you and LeFou, and you both made your way outside.

“Sorry about that,” LeFou said once you’d exited the tavern. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d take, and they’ve been staying close to me ever since Gaston’s…death.” He sighed.

You shook your head. “No, you don’t need to apologize. It’s good that they care enough about you to be concerned.” You automatically started walking towards Belle’s home, but LeFou pointed in a different direction.

“May I?” he asked, clearly having a place for you to talk in mind.

“Of course.”

You walked in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “So, uh…how is our friend?” You could hear his eagerness at news. You felt a soft smile forming on your lips. LeFou truly was a good man.

You sighed, letting the smile drop. “Well, it’s odd,” you began, stepping around a mud puddle, “but he’s…different, I think.”

“Oh?”

“Was he ever depressed with you?”

LeFou stopped in his tracks. “Depressed?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

You nodded. “Yes. Depressed.”

“How so?”

He resumed walking, and you saw that you were going to a part of town you’d never really gone to before. The shops were sparse, instead replaced by a few small homes. Ahead of you was another archway that led out of Villenueve to the woods. Where are we going? “Well, Adam proposed to Belle yesterday evening, and apparently he saw it from the cell, and when I visited him last night, he was, I don’t know…sad. He kept going on and on about how he’d thought Belle was the one for him and how ‘of course, she’d marry him’—‘him’ meaning the prince—and he was much more introspective than I’ve ever seen him.”

The wind blew gently, rustling the leaves of the trees. You caught a glimpse of something in the woods. Is that a house?

“Has he been sleeping?” LeFou asked, almost sharply, like he was more concerned than you’d expected him to be.

“I would assume so,” you replied, frowning as you tried to recall if Gaston had seemed like he was getting enough sleep. “He was when I brought him food this morning.”

LeFou let out a short whoosh of air. “Good,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?” You were now almost certain that you could see a house in the woods. It was close enough to easily walk to and from town, but far enough that it earned a bit of comforting isolation.

“He has a history of not getting enough sleep,” came the shorter man’s hesitant reply.

“What?”

LeFou sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “We were in the war together, you know? We fought and survived, but it was hard on him. He had nightmares about it almost every night for the first few months back.”

“I thought he loved the war? He told me it was glorious and fun.” You could make out the outline of the house and wondered if it was perhaps were LeFou lived.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have nightmares. You can love something and still be afraid of it.”

I suppose.

LeFou continued. “That’s how he was with it. I followed him back here after it ended, and he let me move into his home with him. That’s how I know about the nightmares. That’s also where his mood swings come from, I’m almost positive of it.” He stopped, and you wondered if he was done with his statement. “Did he talk to you about it at all? The war?”

Alright, maybe he wasn’t done. “A little. We were up late one night and he told he about being chased for three days.” That was the first night he asked me to stay.

“That was a hard three days…but he never once lost his grip, you know? He was always in control, always in command, even without sleep.” LeFou’s voice had taken on a wistful tone, like he was mentally reliving those days. “He was amazing.”

You felt yourself blushing at his reverence. You knew that LeFou loved the man, but it almost felt like you were intruding on his memories.  

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you made your way to the small cottage. LeFou, ever the gentleman, opened the door for you and let you enter first. It was a bit dim inside as the sun was slowly setting and most of the windows faced the east rather than the west, but you could make out a few details: there was a black bearskin on the floor, a lavish wooden armchair sitting in front of an unlit fireplace, a simple table with benches, and there were odd shapes on the wall around the fireplace. As you observed your new surroundings, LeFou walked to the other side of the house and pulled back a piece of cloth that covered a few of the west-facing windows, illuminating everything. You saw that the odd shapes were simply animal heads—a buck rested directly above the fireplace, a smaller bear head to the left of it and a boar head to the right.

My God, there’s a lot of antlers here, you thought. Antlers crisscrossed over each other on the mantle, there were antlers hung on the wall, antlers inside a large wooden tub on another table. There was a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling—well, you say chandelier, but it was made of, of course, antlers and probably other bones.

“Yeah, Gaston really loves using antlers in his decorating,” LeFou explained, joining you and offering a cup of water. You took the offered drink and nodded, eyes wide at the overabundance of antlers.

“So I noticed.” There were also furs abound, most likely from all of the animals he’d hunted. There were also a few pillows, some of which had simple embroidery and others which had more elaborate designs. There was a large trunk against one corner of the wall, no doubt filled with more furs and blankets for the cold winters. “Did you make the pillows?”

LeFou scoffed. “I wish. No, those were all done by Gaston’s mother, the Madame Legume.” One in particular caught your eye—a faded red pillow with a black fleur-de-lis encircled by cream deer antlers. It was odd to see a fleur-de-lis here, since they were only for royalty to use in designs. Along the edges of the pillow were cream swirls and lines. “That one’s his favorite, too,” LeFou said quietly, following your line of sight.

“It’s not what I’d have expected from his mother,” you replied. “Did he ever talk to you about her?”

LeFou shrugged and motioned for you to sit in one of the chairs. “Not really,” he said, taking a seat next to you. “He doesn’t like talking about his family.”

“He told me his mother died in childbirth and that his father was a hunter, but that was about it. I got the impression that he and the Monsieur Legume didn’t get along.” You set your cup on the table and leaned back against the chair.

“I’m surprised he even told you that much.” The shorter man leaned back as well, his fingers dancing across the armrests. “He told me bits and pieces of his childhood when I served under him, usually when he was drunk. Then, when we came here and he invited me to move in with him, he revealed a little more.” He exhaled deeply and glanced at you. “I think his father blamed him for the death of his mother. A few times when he got really, really drunk, he rambled about never being good enough, never living up to her. For a while I thought he meant a woman that he’d loved and lost somehow, but then I realized it was his mother.”

You sat in silence, absorbing all of this information as he spoke. That sounds horrible. At least Papa never said anything of the sort to me.

“I think that’s why he’s so…himself, you know? He always wants attention because he never got it from someone he cared about.”

“He’s still trying to prove himself,” you murmured, not intending to interrupt LeFou but doing it nonetheless.

His brow furrowed. “What was that?”

You pursed your lips, trying to find the right words before elaborating. “If his father always told him he wasn’t good enough, maybe he was constantly doing things in order to prove himself. That’s why he became the best hunter. That’s why he joined the war. It might even be why he protected the town from those invaders years ago. He’s got a hero complex, but it’s not borne out of narcissism, however he may act like it is. It’s out of a desire to show that he is good enough.” And that in itself is sad. It doesn’t excuse his actions, but it explains them. All of the pieces of the puzzle that was Gaston were slowly falling into place the more you learned about him.

You could almost picture a young Gaston trying to earn his father’s favor by rallying up the villagers against the Portuguese. Afterwards, he might’ve gone up to the elder Legume and announced that he’d defended Villenueve, and the older man would’ve ‘hmmph’ed in response. So what could he do? A few years later, when the war presents the ultimate opportunity to prove his worth, naturally, he would join.

He said his father died during the war, though. So that means he must’ve come home, ready and eager to be commended at last for his status as Captain, and learned that he was dead, along with any chance of redeeming himself in his father’s eyes. Merde, that’s awful.

You suddenly wanted to embrace Gaston, and unlike previously, it wasn’t due to your crush. You sympathized with him.

“You said no one seems too upset about his ‘death’, right?” you asked, frowning.

LeFou shook his head. “Most of the villagers are still angry at him.”

You sighed. “Can’t say I blame them. He was horrible that night.” You sank your head into your hands. “What are we going to do? How are we going to let everyone know he’s still alive if they hate him?”

“If we could convince everyone else to give him a second chance, then the wedding would be a perfect time to announce his survival.”

“But what good will it do if everyone decides to riot against him?”

“Would they?”

“I don’t know!” You lifted your head and slammed your arms against the table. “Maybe that’s a worst-case scenario, maybe it’s not, but it doesn’t make a difference because I’m going to have to tell him that the people he wanted to adore him actually despise him!”

LeFou winced at your violent reaction. “That’s not gonna be fun at all,” he muttered.

“No, it’s not!” You inhaled and exhaled, trying to expel your frustration. It didn’t work, and you looked at a window to calm yourself down.

The sun had begun its descent, giving the outside a gold hue. You’d spent more time here than you’d meant to, and now you had to go back to the castle to give Gaston dinner. And possibly tell him about how many people hated him. And then plan a wedding.

“You seem frustrated. Are you okay, (Y/N)?” LeFou asked, concerned.

You considered faking a smile, then realized that he was too shrewd to let that fool him. “No,” you admitted. “It’s just…sometimes it’s hard, doing all this.” You returned your eyes to him, secretly appreciating the way he was leaning forwards, showing his genuinely concern for you. “It helps that you and Belle and the Prince know, but there’s just all this responsibility on me to take care of him and I wouldn’t change it for the world (Use it wisely echoed Agathe’s voice in your mind, conjuring up a mental picture of golden haze) but sometimes it’s just so damn hard.” Your voice cracked at the end of your rant, and you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Take deep breaths,” LeFou said gently, using his hands to illustrate inhaling and exhaling. You followed his movements, breathing in and out for a few minutes until you felt better. Once you let out a deep sigh, he took your hand in his. “It’s going to be alright, (Y/N). You did a good thing, and you did it for the right reasons. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy, but if you can convince an Enchantress to turn back time, then I think you can handle this.” He grinned at you. “You’re strong and smart, and if anyone can figure this out, it’s you. And I mean, I’ll help. And so will Belle!”

You felt yourself smiling at him, and this time, it wasn’t forced. “Thanks, LeFou. You’re amazing, you know?”

He laughed. “I try.”

You laughed, too, and sighed again. “I need to go. But thank you for everything—you’re right, we’ll figure this out.” You scooted your chair back and stood, stretching. “I’ll see you around, okay? And you’re always welcome to come to the castle and visit, even if you don’t want to visit him yet.”

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

You waved goodbye to him and opened the door. The outside air was still warm, but it was pleasant. Perfect weather for a slow evening ride back to the castle.

If you rode slowly enough, you could use the time to mull on your conversation with LeFou. He’d given you a lot to think about.

You took your time going up the steps to the cell. Not because you were reluctant—rather, you were eager to see Gaston—but because you were still mulling. You felt certain in your conclusions about the captain; they made a lot of sense in regards to his personality and actions.

I don’t know if I could ever ask him, though. Would he even trust me with that kind of intimate knowledge? He only told LeFou when he was drunk, and LeFou’s his best friend. Still…I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like growing up. No wonder he craved attention from the villagers.

Gaston didn’t acknowledge you when you entered the cell. He was once again leaning against the wall of the open door, but he didn’t ooze charisma the way he normally did. If anything, you felt as if he was angry: his entire body seemed stiff, and when you walked over to be across from him, you saw his mouth twitch.

“I see you’ve finally deigned to visit. Apparently I’m not worthy of your presence anymore,” he said, venom lacing his words.

You flinched at the harshness of his tone. Where the hell is this coming from? “I’m sorry?” was all you could think to say as you slid down the wall to the ground.

He let loose a sardonic chuckle. “It’s been a whole day, a whole day of me sitting in this godforsaken prison, with naught to keep me company save for this book.” He picked up the copy of MacBeth and waved it at you before throwing it across the cell. You flinched again. “What am I to you, (Y/N)? A pet? A toy? Someone to talk to at your own whims when you don’t feel like talking to Belle?”

You frowned. This was a much different Gaston than you’d seen last night. Last night he’d been quiet, melancholy. Tonight, he was on the offensive, attacking you viciously with words.

Your lack of response only spurred him on. “Nothing to say? Of course. You only care about conversation when you’re in control of it.” He sneered at you. “Typical.”

All of your confusion suddenly flared into anger. “Excuse me? That’s not the case at all! You steer the conversation just as much as I do!”

“Is that what you think? I know how you work. You lure me with acts of concern and compassion—you pretend to care about my injuries, then you act as if we’re friends, and then you vanish!”

“Gaston!” you exclaimed, feeling heat surge up your cheeks and down your neck. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He slammed his hand onto the floor, making you jump. “Don’t try to deny it, woman,” he growled.

You blinked, then felt your own face form into a snarl. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight? Why are you acting like this?” Without thinking about it, you stood, needing to be taller than him.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you actually care!” he scoffed, jumping to his feet as well.

“I do care!”

“And why would you?” he shouted, gesturing to himself. “Why would you care about me?”

You threw your arms up in disbelief. “Because that’s what friends do! They care about each other! They express concern when one of them is acting like an ass!”

“We are not friends, (Y/N).”

Those five words cut into your heart, as did his green eyes, glaring at you. You tried to think of something to say, anything at all that could hurt him as much as he’d just now hurt you. Nothing came to mind, leaving you standing there, fuming. As you stood there, mouth agape, you began to notice things about Gaston: the dark bruises under his eyes, the way his hair had gotten unusually tangled, the fact that he seemed almost jittery as he glared at you; his fingers twitched against his legs, and he was swaying where he stood. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.

Something’s wrong.

As upset as you still were, you forced yourself to swallow your anger. “Gaston, what is wrong?” you asked softly, hoping that maybe a quieter tone would calm him down. “You haven’t been yourself since last night.” Instinct told you to take a slow step towards him, so you did. “I just want to know why.”

His eyes darted from your face to your feet and back to your face, but he didn’t say anything.

You continued. “Even if you don’t think of me as a friend, I think of you as one. And as your friend, I’m worried about you.”

Gaston wouldn’t look at you. He stood there, no longer glaring, but his fingers were still dancing along his calves. They alternated between tapping and curling up on themselves, almost as if he was making a fist and then abruptly deciding not to. “We’re not friends,” he repeated, this time in a low voice that lacked the previous harshness.

“Yes, we are,” you replied. You cautiously reached for his arm. When your hand grazed him, he flinched, but he made no move to stop you. “What’s wrong?”

He tossed his head, but it was slow. Finally, he sighed. “I’m tired.”

You gently tugged down on his arm. He followed your cue and sat, with you sitting next to him. It was as if the fight had disappeared from him. “Why are you tired?”

“Because I haven’t slept,” he mumbled.

“What?” you couldn’t help but demand. He leaned his head back against the stone wall. “But you were sleeping this morning!”

“I was trying to sleep, but it wasn’t working.” Gaston sighed and placed his hands in his lap. “I couldn’t do it.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

He sighed again. “Nightmares.”

You felt the minnow of fear swim into your stomach. LeFou had mentioned this. “How long have you been having them?”

“Since the night I told you about the war.”

The minnow doubled in size and you realized just how long ago that had been. “Gaston, that was three nights ago. Are you saying you haven’t slept in three days?”

He grimaced. “That sounds about right. Feels longer, though, but that might just be me.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He hesitated, then sighed again. “Can you just…stay and talk?” He sounded so defeated, so vulnerable. And he was looking at you with those eyes, pleading with you to just stay with him.

How could you refuse? “Of course,” you whispered. He patted your thigh, but it didn’t feel like he was trying to flirt. It felt like camaraderie, like he was relieved that you weren’t leaving him yet again. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything,” he muttered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back once more. “Just hearing another voice helps.”

“Alright. Well…once, when I was about six or seven, my cousin Amèlie convinced me to sneak into her stables and ride my aunt’s horse bareback. I’d never ridden a horse before, so you can imagine how well that went.” You didn’t know where to go from there; it felt too stiff of a conversation. “Umm…I used to love pretending I was a pirate queen. My father didn’t think it appropriate for a good Christian girl, but my mother would indulge my imagination. She would find sticks or brooms and we would pretend they were swords clanging together.” This story felt a little less awkward. “Sometimes she would hide things around the house and make a little map for me. It wasn’t anything too difficult, of course. At first they were drawings that told me where to go. Then, when I began learning to read, she would write destinations that I could sound out. As I got older, she began writing little clues that I’d have to solve, and while I would search through the house Papa would sit at the table and watch. Sometimes he would roll his eyes, sometimes he would smile.” You grinned at the memories of the game. “Once or twice, Mama managed to convince him to play along. He would be the King, kidnapped by some nefarious enemies, and I, the Pirate Queen, would be the only one who dared to save him.” You paused for a moment before continuing. “I guess it didn’t occur to me that had a pirate actually rescued the King, then she would still be hanged, regardless of her good deeds.”

Gaston snorted, and you took that to be a good sign.

“Mama is the one I got my imagination from. She always wanted to be a writer, but that’s not something that her parents thought proper, so she was never allowed to publish. Nor would she be able to, if she’d been allowed, I don’t think. I think I told you that she taught me to read. ‘Reading is living a thousand other lives,’ she once told me. ‘Lives that you’d never be able to experience any other way.’ Her favorite book is The Adventures of Arabella, which she gave to me before I moved here. It’s my favorite, too.”

“I see.”

As you continued to share tales of your life, you noticed that Gaston made fewer and fewer noises to indicate that he was listening, although he did eat some of the food you’d brought. It seemed that having someone to listen to was exactly what he needed in order to relax. You wondered if LeFou had done this for him before—stayed up late just talking.

A thought occurred to you as you ended your latest story. “Gaston?” you asked.

“Mmm?”

“You threw a dagger at me yesterday afternoon.”

“Yes?”

“You told me you haven’t slept in three nights, correct?”

“I suppose.”

“You threw a dagger at me when you hadn’t slept in two days?”

He flashed you a grin, that grin you felt like you hadn’t seen in days, and shrugged. “I never miss my target. I should think you should be impressed.”

“Impressed? How about I stay awake for two days and throw a sharp, pointy thing at you? Then we’ll see who’s impressed!”

You gave him a light punch to the shoulder, which earned an exaggerated ‘Ow’ from the man, but both of you were smiling. “I could teach you, if you want,” he offered.

“Deal.”

Then he did something unexpected: he leaned his head on your shoulder. You blushed at the action, although you knew he was doing more because he was so tired than for any other reason. Or so you think. Maybe it’s because he wants a pillow, maybe it’s because he likes you, that taunting voice whispered in your head.

“You can keep talking,” he mumbled.

You leaned your head forward a bit to see that he’d closed his eyes again. “How about I read?”

“Mmm.”

You took that to be his approval, so you shifted forwards to reach for the book. Your movement made him lift his head (was he pouting or were you imagining that?), but the moment you’d grabbed the book and sat back against the wall, he replaced it. You smiled to yourself and opened the book to where he’d marked his last stopping point.

“Scene six. Forres. The palace. Enter Lennox and another lord. Lennox speaks: ‘My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, which can interpret further, only, I say, things have been strangely borne…”

As you read aloud to Gaston, you yourself started to feel a little tired. But you’d promised that you would stay, so you ignored your own feelings and kept reading. By the time Lady MacDuff and her son had encountered the murderers looking for Lord MacDuff, Gaston was snoring softly. You yawned; it had been a few hours since you’d come up, and now it was late at night.

You glanced at the sleeping Gaston, his head still resting on your shoulder. In order to make himself more comfortable while you read, he’d scooted closer so that your shoulders were touching. His body radiated warmth in the coolness of the cell, and you were glad of it. The blanket was crumpled up within arm’s length of you, so you grabbed it and spread it across both yours and his legs. Then you marked where you thought he’d fallen asleep at and continued reading the book to yourself. Without realizing it, you felt yourself drifting off, the words on the pages blurring together so that you had to reread a few sentences over and over again.

Malcolm: Well, more anon—comes the King forth, I pray you?

Doctor: Ay, sir, there are a crew of wretched souls That stay his cure: their malady convinces The great assay of art; but at his touch— Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand They presently amend

…they presently amend…

…they presently…

…amend….

[rreader]

epicfallenismine replied to your post “HI MY LOVELY ANGELS So it‘s like 6.30am here (I know, believe me lol),...”

Yay!! So happy for you. :D

thank you angel <333

writing-yj replied to your post “HI MY LOVELY ANGELS So it‘s like 6.30am here (I know, believe me lol),...”

I'm so glad you're feeling better! I've always felt like hell after getting surgery to fix a problem with my pacemaker, so it's great that you've gotten past that part!

oooh, I hope everything is okay now, darling! this doesn’t sound fun at all :(

[drearycheery]

@epicfallenismine that's good, thank you!!! Yeah I think I just need to go to bed bc when it's 5am and you haven't slept you tend to lose your ability to look critically at things

[meibemeibelline]

Tiny Tag Meme

Thank u for the tag @infinitelystrangemachinex​ <3

Favourite colour: if you don’t count black, dark red :’D

Top three ships: Obi/Shirayuki from AnS, Blake/Yang from RWBY, Rue/Jules from Euphoria

Lipstick or Chapstick: lipstick but i love both!

Last song: ‘Boy Meets Evil’ by BTS

Last movie: Spider-man: Far From Home AND I LOVED ITTTT

Currently reading: ‘The Family Law’ by Benjamin Law which i uhhh actually bought from a book festival 2 yrs ago and got it signed by him bc i loved his talk session but i never actually read it until today--

Tagging: @epicfallenismine @maverae @thacatwhogrins @puffdragongirl

[imaginethatalena]

#90: Kylo Ren x Reader

Finally! Part 4 is here! I really loved writing this series and I decided to finish it off with one last part. I hope you guys like it ❤ I’m gonna go ahead and tag @kylo-ren-is-my-supreme-leader

Tag List: @theyoungestschuylersister @epicfallenismine 

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3

After the Resistance escaped Crait, you returned to your planet to take your place as the reigning monarch. Your first act as queen was to sever all loyalties to the First Order and the Resistance, passing executive orders to strengthen the military to protect yourself if the war ever came to your world. You were determined to stay out of the war entirely, but that all changed the day Kylo Ren arrived.

The peace that came with their arrival was uncharacteristic of the First Order. The flagship stayed a safe distance away from your planet and he landed on the planet’s surface in a small ship without any weapons. The only person who accompanied him into your throne room was General Hux, who looked very surprised to see you on the throne.

“I never thought I would see you again,” you said as the two men approached your throne. Your guards were wary of them and stopped them when they were a few yards away from you.

“The throne suits you, Your Majesty,” Kylo said, bowing his head in respect. You were surprised that the new Supreme Leader of the First Order even bothered to recognize your authority.

“It’s an honor to have you here, Supreme Leader,” you said. Although you were happy to see Kylo again, you had to exercise caution and keep him at a safe distance. You were technically in opposition to the First Order, and he had the power to deal with you as he saw fit.

“Is there a reason for your visit?” you asked carefully.

“Your planet once gave your support for our cause,“ he told you. “But now your planet stands independent in the war, your people loyal only to themselves.”

“I learned self preservation is the best solution when faced with a difficult situation,” you said, your eyes darting to Hux for a moment. “Your war with the Resistance has only brought me and my family hardship. I want nothing to do with it.”

“Your support was valuable to the First Order,” Kylo said, his eyes boring into yours. You got the sense that he was talking about more than the financial and military support your planet had provided. You thought back to how he had confessed your presence on the ship was a welcome change, a light in the darkness Snoke had cast over his life. You had been there to support him, whether you meant to or not. He needed you, not only to support the First Order, but also to support him. No matter how much you wished to help, you were still hesitant.

“Financing a cause is one thing,” you told him. “Sending my troops to fight for a general that ordered my execution is another story.” Hux suddenly became very interested with the floor the moment you mentioned that unfortunate bit of your past with him.

“If you need a reason to lend your support, I have a very good one,” Kylo said. “I took a risk and I saved your life. Now I ask that you take a risk and save the galaxy from the rebel scum that terrorizes it.”

He had a very good point. You were indebted to him. There was no better reason than that to give him your help, and you decided it was the right thing to do.

You stood from the throne and spoke as you descended the short set of stairs to approach him. “With you as the Supreme Leader, I would be proud to declare loyalty to you. Anything the First Order needs, you will have it. Ships, troops, whatever is necessary to ensure your success.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Kylo said, kissing the back of your hand in gratitude. You both knew that he was the only reason you would even consider supporting the First Order, and he was the only one who could fin back your planet’s favor.

“I’m putting my trust in you,” you said, flanked by your guards as you walked away from them. “I hope it’s deserved.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” you said, turning to the two men one more time. Your gaze focused on Hux, and he turned his nose up at you.

“If you ever set foot on my planet again, General, you will be executed,” you said. Kylo could barely fight the smirk that wanted to show itself, and Hux’s face flushed in embarrassment. You knew that if it came to that, Kylo wouldn’t object to Hux’s death in the slightest.

“I hope I’ll see you again soon, Supreme Leader,” you told Kylo with a suggestive smile. He returned it with confidence.

“As do I.”

Buy me a coffee?

[sleepcountmedown]

Tag game

Tagged by @filthinthefangirl and @welcometothemalformedbox Thanks guys!!「(•⌒▽⌒•)ゞ CHOOSE ONE! Then tag 10 of your followers! 1: hugs or kisses? Hugs 2: night or day? Night 3: internet or TV? Internet 4: sweet or sour? Sour 5: red, white, or blue? Blue 6: 1800s or 1900s? 1900s 7: space or the ocean? Ocean 8: ice-cream or frozen? Ice Cream 9: reading or writing? Writing 10: raining or sunny? Sunny 11: winter or summer? Winter 12: spring or autumn/fall? Fall 13: too cold or too warm? Too cold 14: elevators or escalators? Escalators 15: apples or oranges? Apples 16: fire or ice? Fire 17: plane crash or car crash? Car crash 18: planes or boats? Planes 19: the sea or a pool? The Sea 20: singing or dancing? Singing 21: long hair or short hair? Short hair 22: january or december? December 23: your first child - boy or girl? Girl 24: chocolate sauce or strawberry sauce? Chocolate sauce 25: coffee or tea? Coffee 26: in your coffee/tea - sugar or no sugar? Sugar 27: gif or jif? Gif 28: science or religion? Science 29: tornado or hurricane? Tornado 30: black or white? Black 31: laptop or desktop? Laptop 32: cat or dog? Cat 33: chicken or turkey? Chicken 34: shower or bath? Bath 35: disneyland or universal studios? Neither 36: potatoes - mashed or baked? Mashed 37: eggs - fried, boiled, scrambled or poached? Poached 38: cake or pie? Cake 39: Ben and Jerry’s or häagen-dazs? Both 40: christmas or halloween? Christmas 41: books or magazines? Books 42: inside or outside? Outside 43: movies or tv shows? TV shows 44: McDonald’s or burger king? Burger King 45: the past or the future? Future 46: superpowers - fly or read minds? Fly 47: piercings or tattoos? Piercings 48: end of the world - zombie apocalypse or world war 3? World War 3 49: Starbucks or subway? Starbucks 50: love or lust? Love 51: kitten, puppy or micropig? Kitten 52: if you could, which would you stop - 9/11 or the holocaust? The holocaust 53: mermaids/mermen or unicorns? Mermaids 54: America or Britain? America 55: dumbledore or gandalf? Gandalf 56: ninjas or pirates? Ninjas 57: Firefox, safari or chrome? Chrome 58: marvel or dc? Neither 59: pepsi or coke? Coke 60: circus or amusement park? Amusement park 61: eBook or physical book? Physical book 62: Greek or roman? Greek 63: Thor or Loki? Loki 64: Sam or dean winchester? Either (don’t watch that show) 65: stefan or damon Salvatore? ???who???? 66: brown or white bread? Wheat (brown?) 67: sunrise or sunset? Sunset 68: drought or flood? Flood 69: trains or bus? Trains 70: kids or pets? Pets 71: poetry or song lyrics? Song lyrics 72: horror movie or chick flick? Horror movie 73: play video games on - pc or console (Xbox/playstation)? PlayStation 74: cookies or donuts? Donuts 75: saturday or sunday? Saturday 76: lord of the rings or harry potter? Harry Potter 77: bands or solo artists? Bands 78: art or music? Music 79: get lost in - london or paris? London 80: new year’s eve or christmas eve? Christmas Eve 81: museums or nature parks? Nature parks 82: lightning or thunder? Thunder 83: lions, tigers or bears? Bears 84: popcorn or candy floss/cotton candy? Cotton candy 85: be stuck in a room with - clowns or insects? Clowns 86: soup or salad? Salad 87: asks or fanmail? Both 88: scottish accent or irish accent? Irish 89: ‘friends or ‘the big bang theory’? Neither 90: ‘supernatural’ or ‘the vampire diaries’? Supernatural 91: ‘the simpsons’ or 'family guy’? Both 92: toothache or earache? Toothache 93: 'x-men’ or 'guardians of the galaxy’? Guardians of the Galaxy 94: be stranded in antarctica or sahara desert? Antarctica 95: penguins or polar bears? Polar Bears 96: 'frozen’ or 'tangled’? Frozen 97: snowmen or icebergs? Snowmen 98: hand written letter or email? Email 99: apple or android? Apple 100: the end or the beggining? The end I’m tagging: @fataldoses @ladyinblack88 @dogmaofthenurse @eternal-warrior @thegazettesavedme @sillygirldisco @lillyblanche @undying-thoughts @epicfallenismine @abnormalbox

[samwise-gamgce]

I was tagged by @mortomary. Thank you! 😊

Rule: Tag 10 followers you want to get to know better.

Name: Elanor (not my real name)

Gender: Female.

Star sign: Pisces

Height: 5'0"

Sexuality: Straight

What images do you have set as your desktop / cellphone wallpaper: Desktop - Hogwarts, home screen - a picture I took in the snow-covered forest, lock screen- same as home screen.

Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?: A slight one, yes.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years: Hopefully with a career I love and maybe a family.

If you could be anywhere else right now, where would you be: Travelling in Europe, maybe locally in Germany… idk.

What was your coolest Halloween costume?: Not a Halloween costume but I did make my own Honey Lemon cosplay.

What’s your favorite 90s show: Friends.

Have you ever been stood up: I don’t believe so.

Have you ever been to Las Vegas: No.

Favorite pair of shoes: Some boots I bought at Target which are surprisingly sturdy.

Favorite fruit: I can’t choose! Okay, maybe strawberries?

Favorite book: Hmm. I really don’t think I could choose just one.

Stupidest thing you’ve ever done: I think there are way too many.

I tag: @hellish-student @epicfallenismine @lunarcoeur @star-inthe-making @aredhel-of-thrawndolin @blueeyedstark @blessings-of-ainur-and-men @snuffles-groovy-doghouse @liliemsharpe @oftimelordsandwizards

[renoftheshadows]

@epicfallenismine replied to your post “Tagged by @epicfallenismine thank you! <3 Relationship Status: Single...”

Ben Solo/happiness is such a mood

RIGHT?! Like pls just let him be happy and free of pain.