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nonokoko13 · 4 years ago

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Child!reader being adopted by spy x family characters

Like I said in my previous Ted talk about me rambling I had imagined some scenarios in which certain characters would adopt a kid and why; adding some more stuff. I made up my mind and decided to write for myself.

I think it's really specific but I believe not all characters would be moved by the same default child so I almost created a concrete type for each one; plus it's more fun. Unless specified the reader would be six in each one

I won't put any of them raise their child with another existing character apart from the Forgers, because they're the only canonic marriage and without it wouldn't exist the series, unless specified. If you want "x ship raising a kid together" or similar you can ask for it

Idk if I'll write more about this but enjoy!

Yuri Briar

How you met

His life moves around his job and Yor. There would be few occasions he'd interact with a child; maybe when he babysits Anya

Unless is required to approach a kid. He'll be more into adopting once he has known further about the child's life and under which conditions they live

Remember the university students that used dogs as bombs? Animals aren't the only ones used by bastards to unleash or win a conflict

So in one of his missions he discovered the trashy traitors were using toddlers as their mules to move the merchandise, either drugs or weapons. Unfortunately for them the Operation is successfully sabotaged by his team

That's when he found you

Without living relatives or documents that clarify where you came from everything indicated that you grew up in that environment, probably sold from an early age as a slave

A quiet, reserved kid waiting to answer a few questions before social services took you to an orphanage

Yuri would be assigned to this task, if he didn't already offered himself first

Somehow he managed to open you. Starting with simple questions, talking about himself so you were more comfortable; perhaps even taking you to a walk and stopping to get an ice cream if you wanted

The desire of returning him the favor by working hard reminded him of himself when he told Yor he'd study to make the world better

Which makes him impatient to hear the useless pleas of those bastards when he began to torture them

Once he obtained all he needed he said goodbye to you and returned to headquarters more eager to do his job than he initially had

All would have ended there if you didn't have initiative

Surprising you following him back home, you clung to him before he could ask how you got there

Saying you could be useful, that you would help him with everything and be a good kid in an attempt to make him let you stay there

Then he started to think

Having a child would be useful: with Yor babysitting you he would have information about Loiloi, snitching on him for any suspicious activity or getting access to his secrets. But would he be okay using a child?

Although looking at you made him surrender. Even if his plan wouldn't go like expected he'd be making something good for you

Plot twist: You made him believe he thought that on his own to then accept his deal in exchange for adopting you.

Of course, you will help him to get the love of his life like he desired, but you never said it would be the so-called Yor

Why breaking a family when you could make your own? Even isolated kid would realize how creepy was his obsession with his sister

Instead, you could help him to get rid of it, that would be your favor. And in exchange you could get more

You could get him a fake partner to enroll yourself in Eden. You could get education, a family, and if you liked Loiloi and auntie enough you would make sure dad didn't sabotage their marriage. You didn't see nothing wrong with your logic

Everyone wins, right?

General headcanons

At first he may not be sure what to do

He doesn't want to bother her sister but he wants to do his best. Due your lack of energy, common in children, Yor can't give him more than the basics

He reassures you that there's nothing wrong with it though. You are just calm and quiet while others were more talkative and neither of those behaviors were worse or better than the other

He's the first in falling with parenthood out of all the options, and pretty soon than expected for the sadist lieutenant

Your smile, your face after falling asleep, your tiny hands reaching his... he's crying help

You have him wrapped around your tiny finger. Although you don't like to get advantage of that

You genuinely want to help him. Because the whole thing of dad replacing Loiloi is a no-no

You don't realize how creepy it may sound your way of thinking to others. Fortunately they can't read your thoughts so you exterior makes people think that you are simply introvert or shy

Another problems came along with that

You know how to talk, which you don't is basic human interaction

All this comes from long before, so apart of school subjects you'll receive etiquette lessons Yuri teaching someone how to behave is the irony peak

Prepare yourself, now that he loves you is surely to say there's no scape for the affection

Of course, he'll contain himself if you don't want physical affection, but eventually you won't be able to say no to his puppy face

Headpats, hugs, kisses in forehead, kisses in cheeks, kisses to heal the wounds and make you feel better, more hugs, piggybacks, holding hands, cuddles, did I mention headpats?

Did you understand the lesson? Great job! Can you jump rope two times in a row? Impressive! Christmas is near? He'll move land and air destroying any obstacle in his path until he gives you the best gift he can afford!

It would be suffocating as hell if you weren't touch starved, or love-starved in general. Actually it helps after years of cold-blooded treatment

Yuri hates Lottie, but he accepts his help for therapy if because you need it

Please calm him down when someone offends you before he commits murder

I think the encounter headcanons gives you an idea of why he initially adopted you

Part of it was because either you reminded him of Yor. Nothing in particular, in his view both shines and need to be protected neither of you need that but that's his view so ok Yuri

If Yuri adopted a child I'll be inclined to think he melts quickly

Yuri's little prince/princess®

Neutral pronouns could help you to get away with crime one day. The suspect is a girl? Ain't see any girl here

If you tell him to choose a new name for you he'll cry for real. A new name is also a new life and you want him to have that honor for you is just a name

You would end up with a name that means night

I headcanon Yuri had the most acute fashion sense than the rest of his family

When they were young their parents dress them but once they died Yuri was in charge of choosing clothes because Yor didn't care, he ended up influencing her that's why Yor always looks gorgeous

So if you want to go shopping he's your man

Anything you want to wear is fine but let him dress you and I assure you stupidly cute outfits and mainly cottage core aesthetic clothing until you change your mind. It goes for seasons and events too so your closet will be really diverse

Proud father that brings with him at least one picture of you anywhere he goes. "Have you seen my baby? Now you have been blessed you're welcome"

I wanted to write about Forgers/Briars interaction and more but this section is already too long maybe I'll do it in the future

Fiona Frost

How you met

To prove she's better wife than Yor she accepted the challenging Operation Strix no one gave her green light to that because she didn't ask permission either btw

Following his dear master's steps she searches a kid that can read and write in dreadful orphanages where she doesn't have to give many details

One would think she would choose the best option she could find to increase the possibility of getting 8 Stellas asap

And it will be correct if she had found any better option than you

You proved to read and write and yet she was debating whether keep searching or not

Unable to keep still, clumsy, simple-minded, loud, easily excited, too talkative, inattentive... The list went on and on and she had only knew you for five minutes

Attempting to return you to the orphanage made things worse. You wrapped your arms on her leg and left your lungs with your cries Not attracting attention to herself: done

She calmed you with the lie promise she hadn't thought in that and led you to what would it be your house

In the journey you saw a bunch of elderly people in a chess tournament

Leaving you with cartoons before you cry again; she met with a really angry Handler and describe her the situation waiting for advice. Sylvia took a deep breath before answering

"Have you ever interacted with a kid before? Or seen one? Do you know what a kid is?"

"I see infants on the streets every day, I was one once too. You haven't seen a kid like this before"

"I doubt it but let's continue"

Sylvia tried to dissuade her of her idea of the perfect candidate telling her it was the normal behavior of a child, more after growing without any role model to teach you

Not to mention the terrifying "advise" of dropping her strict plan minute-by-minute schedule plan she had in mind

Suddenly her words enlightened her

Searching the most suitable child for the role of mother would make the road too easy

As candidate for the best wife she ought to be ready for motherhood since her future offspring's traits wouldn't be able to be selected just like any other mother can't

Her mother's duty was raise you, an average talentless creature, to be a strong kid that would be the proud of any mother wishes she had!

Challenge accepted

Back home she activated all her senses when there wasn't any signal of you in the flat

Remembering the park you passed by on your way home she went there due a hunch

There you were, playing with an old man. She was ready to drag you home if necessary but she stayed in silence watching you play

The man was in trouble. If he ate your knight your bishop would eat his, but he couldn't risk to move the Queen of King's side because your last rook would eat it. No matter where he looked his pieces would be eaten or held until you made checkmate

With resignation he knocked his king down and reached out for a handshake, witnesses clapping at your victory

As soon as you saw her among the crowd you ran to give her a hug and explain her everything you had been doing since she left

"Mommy look look! The first pawn I ate was in D4 but then he ate mine with the pawn he had in c5, I decided to let my pawns in 2A and 2H so if he tried my rooks with his I could ate them and—"

"Where did you learn that?"

"A doctor said it was good for me. Something about needing concentration and therapeutic and I tried and I liked! Then I didn't want to learn the names but the chessboard reminded me of pieces of chocolate bar and that helps!"

A doctor...

Thinking about it, you could be a suitable option after all

General headcanons

She wanted a calm, tamed kid

Instead she got you

At first she tries to change your antics. Realizing it's impossible she went with plan B and canalize your energy in activities that entertain you and by the end of the day you're tired

But you're beyond her understanding

Constantly changing your mind, you got bored quickly. The only thing you don't seem to get bored is keep talking with her

More impossible is make you study

About anything, everywhere at any moment. From what have you drawn and what does represent all the elements to explain all you've done since the last time you met

Which was 20 minutes ago but you can last an eternity talking about it because you beat about the bush before remembering what you were saying and starting all over again. It's the story that never ends

Surprise hugs. Her first instinct is stopping you (you don't surprise her but still) or wonder what's the intention behind it; eventually she just let it goes and becomes better at knowing when you're going to "attack"

Something starts to connecting the dots

Impulsive, hyperactive, talkative... Could it be you have some kind of attention deficit?

Investigating the medical history discovers that your last doctor thought the same. Probably that's why he recommended you to play chess

She takes you to the hospital she works to make sure, where you always maintain a conversation with a very kind man who comes with his daughter to see the same psychologist you have

Mister Forger has a sandbox and toys! It's always fun to visit mommy's friend. Hope you can enter to school and meet his daughter too

It's almost 99% sure you have ADHD–combined presentation. Still, Fiona's not giving up on you

She finally found something you didn't get bored of: dancing

In your eyes Fiona's attitude is just though love. She never yells at you when she gets mad, and she wants you to study hard to go to a good school

Deep down she must love you a lot like you love her! Oh baby

Her conditions for adopting a kid were 1 Not illiterate 2 A girl so she could call her Twyla

She changed her mind. Saving that name for her future first daughter she let the second requirement aside too when she adopted you

Don't let that fool you she would think of a Twilight related name anyway

From the end of her conversation with the Handler on, your name would be Dusk. No like you complain, thinking how sweet it was she wanted to rename you now you were a family

"In case that your last family tried to search you" LIAR

"Don't worry mama, I don't think they'll do!"

First time of many she wouldn't know what to say, she gave you a headpat and immediately regretted it when you started to jump and scream for something she thought it was meaningless

Franky

How you met

He yawned; getting up earlier everyday to open the tobacco store he had as facade wasn't the most exciting thing one could dream of

With their back against one of the store's walls certain sleepy gremlin have had forgotten their deal. For some reason you passed by his store since the first time he saw you. What it was, the fifth time you were there?

"Stop appearing on here, people will think that I sell tobacco to children! Do you know the trouble you would put me in?"

"I don't care what people think!"

He reached into his backpack, pulled out a lunch box and showed the inside: a sandwich, a juice and a fiber and chocolate bar

"If I give you this you'll leave?"

You looked at the lunch box, then at him, at the lunch box again and nodded.

"Can I stay–"

"SHOO!"

You ran away, yet he doubt you were going to keep the promise. Now he had to get himself more food

Another day in his miserable single life started. Selling cigarettes, reading something when there was no people...

Twilight came to pick the details of the next infiltration he had to commit that day. With his stupid handsome face, blond hair and blue eyes which made any lady to melt

No one except him knew how inept he could be

"Franky, you're thinking aloud again"

"That's the only way you know how men like me go through because of you"

"I already told you love it's not something I have interest in"

"Livi it's nit simithing I hivi intirist in said the married family man"

"It's–

"Say it's for the mission again and I burn all the data I've collected"

"Look, some men may be more appealing to women than others and vice-versa, it's all about tastes. But you're intelligent, kind, and a good man; I'm sure somebody will appreciate you"

Heading to his chores, Franky watched the agent walk until his silhouette disappeared

Goddammit, he was a good liar. Hopefully that would be true

During the evening some dames passed by, buy tobacco and leave. Not even looking at him twice

Knees on the ground he raised his arms to the sky and begged God for female's attention

"What are you doing?"

No, he didn't refer to that female's attention God

"What are you doing here?"

You handed his lunch box. "How nice of– why there's money inside? Is this a bribe? How did you get it?"

"Do I ask you about why there's always weird people that comes to you and leaves after you gave them something else than cigarettes?"

"........Touché"

Somehow you ended up taking a walk, chatting or arguing about anything

Then he took you back home. You were near, around the corner was your house, there you stopped

"It's late. Your family is going to get worried if you don't go home already"

"I don't have one"

"Why do you say that?"

"I'd prefer to live on the streets. Mom is mean, she keeps me to get money, but she doesn't want to spend time with me. Only her new boyfriend does because he says I'm a pretty girl, but I don't like him"

He looked at you with an expression you were unable to understand

"Has he done something to you?"

"No, well... He stares at me and asks me if I need help when I'm taking a bath, but when there's someone else he doesn't act the same. His way of talking to me or caress my face makes me nervous but mom calls me liar. I'm not a liar, I don't like to be there"

You wondered if you had bothered him because his lack of response and apologized, when you felt his hand taking yours

"You're right, living on the streets seems better than living there"

"I was thinking in have dinner somewhere and then go home, but I don't like to eat alone. Would you accompany me?"

General headcanons

After that time you didn't came back to that house

He had to talk with social services, with the officers that knocked his door, with a judge in order to have your temporary custody. But he wasn't letting you go back

There may be no evidences in your case, but his contacts helped him to find girls that met him. One was willing to talk

Twilight's intervention helped to accelerate the process. Your mom was still pending trial, but you were safe

During your time together he noticed more things about you than through the investigation he did

Your sweet tooth, your love for frogs

Taking you to the park became a thing

Soon he discovered how you attract ladies. They found you adorable, although the first time a lady approached you sarcastically asked her if she didn't know any other compliment

"Or is your vocabulary that short miss?"

When he asked you why did you that he also discovered one of the things you disliked the most: being pretty

You don't want to be liked by how pretty you are. You learned to write well before five, you are good at football and passionate about myths but people just talked about how cute you are and do almost anything you wanted because of it

Of course you liked compliments, and stated you were fine if daddy thinks so too. But it makes you angrier when people interrupt your family time together only to ignore him because of you

In fact, you're more than comfortable with taking advantage of that with people you dislike

He thinks your charm comes along with the way you expressed yourself as well

In one occasion that a group of moms talked with you he was so nervous that ended up bragging a lot about his "hobby" as inventor

"You must be glad to have such handyman at home!"

"Yes, but I think his parents are better because they created him"

*Biggest aww you have ever heard*

"How did you do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean with what do you mean. That cheesy line was smoother than... Umm... it was too casual!"

"But I mean it? I'm happy you are here so I can be with you"

Ugh. So unfair how you always come with genuine speechs like those without realizing their critical effects

Instead of see him as a date option somehow he became a member of the mommy's club

Your name could be whichever you wanted

I mean, he wants you to forget about your past so you can overcome it but he's not changing your name unless you want to. If it makes you feel better he can help you

But you had already decided when you brought the topic. Since you like mythology you went with Freya, a name you liked and it matched with Franky

He's touched. He would have said something ended in "ie" or "y" like Winnie, Minnie...but your choice sounds better

Along with Twilight you're his love master, although you don't have experience you're still good teacher

Always ending the failed date giving him a pat, if she gave him a chance in the first place

"You'll do better next time daddy"

Because of paragraph limit I have decided to do it in two parts; second part coming soon. Hope you liked it!

#spy x family #sxf headcanons #yuri briar #fiona frost #nightfall #franky #frankie #child!reader

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dangerous-advantage · 3 years ago

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BEFORE YOU PROCEED: SPOILERS FOR THE HOURGLASS THRONE BY KD EDWARDS BENEATH THE CUT. IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THIS MASTERPIECE YET, STOP READING NOW AND GO DO IT. I'M SERIOUS YOU WILL SCREAM.

So, I finally caved and just bought the online version of The Hourglass Throne. I had kinda lost some interest in the series while waiting and was just excited for a chill read to go over the next couple of days.

I finished it in a day. No, actually. Six hours, including breaks to let me process everything I had read.

It's been about a day, and I've had some time to process and now I just. Just. Have so many THOUGHTS. and stuff. so here this is. Spoilers start now, so if you haven't read it yet, back away. I promise, it is so much better going in blind.

Okay. Okay. Where to start.

Number One: OH MY GODS. I have to start with ~the secret~ because, well, OBVIOUSLY. I had kind of guessed some major aspects about it. Of course KD would go there with my boys, but it still hurt to see me theories confirmed. I knew that Rune hated geas(es?) and I assumed it had something to do with that night, and that, plus my suspicion of Brand's possible involvement- it was pretty easy to put together the pieces as guess Brand had been put under a geas and was forced to hurt Rune, but now can't remember that. HOWEVER.

EVERYTHING ELSE? OH MY GODS. RUNE. RUNE, BABY. I AM GOING TO SOB.

Finding out that Brand wasn't only possibly a part of Rune's assault (I'm not sure the text ever actually confirmed he hurt Rune? I'll have to re-read that when I've finally processed everything that happened) but the direct link for the destruction of the entire Sun Court? I. I kind of thought that Run was over-reacting before about the whole secret (like, it was based in shame or something/he wanted to protect Brand's feelings from hurting him) but to find out it's actually that bad!? And everything else? That Brand could still possibly be used to hurt Rune? Gods, this- this has so much potential.

And, of course, OF COURSE. How could I forget? Finding out about the conspiracy? The garage? The Owl and Snake? F**k, man.

Okay, next elephant in the room. TOWER. He was already my second favorite character (behind Brand- wow, KD really did just put as much angst around my favorite characters as he possibly could, huh?) and I liked him. This book somehow made me almost completely trust him, then actually trust him, then fucking LOVE HIM and then it just. IT TOOK HIM FROM ME? Whether or not he comes back, I am so, absolutely devestated.

I will admit, I wish that KD delved deeper into his bond with Brand, made it more gradual, and got an actual apology, but in the context of the greater story and the characters, I still really enjoyed his progression.

I just. Have so many thoughts. What happens now? Will Dalton take the Dagger Throne?? What about MAYAN???? I need more. I need more. (And yet, I don't think I could even handle more, seeing as I'm still trying to handle ALL OF THIS, DAMMIT.

Ciaran. That's all I need to say. If I didn't love him before, I absolutely adore him now. I should've known, but of course, KD's outline wins again. What else do you have planned? I can see you leaving all these breadcrumbs that I don't even have time to FOCUS ON because there is just so much. (In a good way.)

Alright. Okay. Other things that I hyperfocused on:

Um. The River Chapter? With Quinn and Brand speaking? Not only did I almost cry, I can very much say, OH SHIT. I had got some great foreshadowing from the king of foreshadowing.

I mean, Brand, mentioning he was feeling a weird connection to Addam?? ALMOST LIKE RUNE?? And let's not forget, remember what was said about tallas before? How you can move space and time to get to your talla? Like Rune did for Brand? There is no way their connection is completely gone. I will bet my soul on it, and I will bet my soul on the fact that they will get it back.

And now I'm just thinking back. To the flower on the balcony of half-house in the epilogue of the first book? oh my GODS he's been playing us all along.

And yeah. Ha. tallas. oh my god tallas. Do you know what this means?>??

ADDAM AND RUNE. ADDAM AND RUNE AND POSSIBLY BRAND IN THE FUTURE. OR QUEERPLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS. I DON"T CARE WHICH ROUTE KD GOES, I AM JUST SO EXCITED FOR THIS RIDE.

And Quinn! I need to mark down as much as I possibly can about that boys' secrets/prophesies. He's not a FUCKIG SEER ANYMORE? WHO'S GONNA SAVE OUR IDIOT PROTAGONISTS NOW??

(ALSO, WHO TF IS TAVIS. AND SO MANY MORE QUESTIONS.)

Remus. That is all.

Also, I have to mention- this book and it's relevations recontextualizes almost EVERYTHING else important in the series. KD is such a master of foreshadowing. I need to read back the other books, but from even just what I can remember, HOLY SHIT. THE DOCK SCENE? RUNE'S REACTION TO BRAND THINKING HE WAS EXCUSING/JUSTIFYING RUNE'S ASSAULT WITH HIS ACTIONS. OH MY GODS. KD, you absolute fucking genius. You've been playing us this entire time, and I am so incredibly grateful for it.

Side Note: I'll probably put up a more comprehensive review together when I'm able to re-read this thing, but the emotional energy this book took away from me (in a good way!) was very vast, and I still need to adjust to all of this shit. So, we'll see.

These are just kind of my scattered thoughts. I would like to know yours, if you have read this book, because there is so much to be said about this series. Just- wow. KD, you blew all of my expectations out of the watere again and again, kept me engaged the entire time, and raised the stakes to where I was actually worried and unsure where you were going to go.

This was my favorite book series before reading THT, and the best one I've ever read, and yet somehow, it had exceeded all expectations in every single way. I don't know if there's a level higher than favorite/best book series you've ever read, but if there is, this series inhabits a level several levels above that. I am so, incredibly excited to see where this will go.

#SPOILERS FOR THE HOURGLASS THRONE #spoilers for the hourglass throne #the hourglass throne spoilers #tht spoilers #spoilers for tht #okay that should be enough #i just... i have so many thoughts #tw caps #caps tw #kd edwards #the tarot sequence #the hourglass throne #if theres spelling mistakes i don't care i'm #i'm simply not in the mind space to care #long post #tw long post

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sunkissedpages · 3 years ago

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instead of you [part seventeen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol +sex

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist

The flight from Naples to Tokyo took fourteen hours, not including the two and a half hour layover in Istanbul, meaning you had sixteen and a half hours to sit in awkward tension-filled silence next to Sam. The tension was one-sided, of course, but it was still agonizing to endure.

You had been able to push your anxiety aside during your last day in Italy because it had been so busy. There had been a power outage in the middle of the night, causing everyone to oversleep and miss the ferry for one of your tours that morning. It had been a scramble to get back on schedule and do as much as possible with the time you had left. The boys had been hungover and their parents were tired of wrangling them. You had dozens of photos on your camera roll of Sam and Harry bickering when they were supposed to be posing for a nice picture, and even more of Tom flicking them off.

But now you were stuck alone with your thoughts, unable to use distraction as a means to escape. You tried reading your book, but found yourself unable to concentrate on the words on the page. After staring at the same paragraph for over fifteen minutes Sam noticed and asked if you were okay and you finally decided to call it quits.

You almost wished the Hollands hadn’t scheduled in a day and a half to adjust to the time zone change. You’d rather exhaust yourself with the nonstop tourist bullshit than have to cope with the reality that you had gotten off to thoughts about your best friend’s brother. Not to mention living with the secret that the same best friend’s brother had kissed you not long before that.

If Sam noticed anything was off, he didn’t mention it. He probably chalked it up to lack of sleep, or perhaps was too tired himself to care.

“Which one of us do you think will be randomly selected in customs today?” Harry asked, stretching his arms above his head.

You were standing in the aisle waiting to deplane, placing bets on who’d get searched by border agents this time. Somehow each time you traveled to a new place one of you was always chosen to get pat down or have your carry-on searched. Tom had yet to be the lucky winner, and you suspected it had something to do with his celebrity status.

“Y/n,” Tom answered easily. “She has the U.S. passport.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like England has a squeaky clean record with Japan.”

“At least we didn’t-”

“Bro, you can’t say the b word on a plane,” Harry interrupted.

“Even when the plane’s on the ground?”

Sam shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Whatever,” Tom continued. “It’s definitely going to be y/n.”

“Would you mind stepping out of line, ma’am?”

You sighed, not even bothering to look back at the boys. You already knew they were grinning like idiots and you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The agent ushered you to the side behind a glass partition, but not before you heard another agent repeat the same question to one of the Hollands. You smiled to yourself, happy not to be the only one singled out.

Behind the privacy screen another agent greeted you and asked you to take your sweatshirt off, explaining that it was too baggy and needed to be checked. You saw other people in baggy clothes who weren’t getting pulled out of line, but assumed they didn’t have the red flag of “U.S. Citizen” printed on their identification that would be cause for any additional suspicion. You complied with the agent’s request and pulled your sweatshirt off for them to further inspect.

You were glad you’d worn a sports bra underneath your sweatshirt because you usually didn’t wear anything underneath them. As soon as your head was out of the pullover you immediately met by Tom’s polite smile.

He averted his eyes as soon as he saw you, pausing his conversation with the official to mumble a quiet ‘sorry’ to you as he was shown to the spot next to yours.

You zoned out as they spoke, only aware of him again when he started unbuckling his belt. You caught his eye this time.

“Forgot to take it off,” he explained.

“Sweatshirt’s too loose.”

You both faced forward as the customs officials proceeded through the motions. You were stuck standing there half-naked with your arms wrapped around your chest self-consciously while an agent pat Tom’s legs down.

“Dad said we can meet them at baggage claim,” Tom said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. “They went on without us.”

“Okay,” you squeaked back in response.

You knew it wouldn’t take long, but it still made you nervous to be alone with Tom. Sam was like a safety blanket, or a buffer between you and him and without him you were afraid it would be painfully awkward.

The woman handed you your sweatshirt back and you had to wait for Tom outside of the screening area. He joined you a minute or so later.

“They find any dirt on you?” you asked from where you were leaning against the wall across from the exit.

“Nope, you?”

“Yeah, actually I’m in custody right now. Can’t believe you missed the handcuffs.”

“Man, what’d they get you for?”

“Identity theft,” you sighed.

“Damn, that’s a bummer,” Tom replied, false sympathy rolling off his words.

He cocked his head in the direction the rest of his family had went, indicating that you should get going, and held out a hand to pull you upright. You took it hesitantly and let him help you.

“I was actually hoping you could bail me out?” you went on, continuing with the bit.

Tom made a sound through his teeth and grimaced. “I’m kinda broke right now.”

“Aren’t you an actor?”

“Sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“No, you’re definitely the guy!”

“You’re thinking of Tom Hiddleston,” he insisted.

“Remember that IOU you gave me? I’m cashing it in now.”

“That’s not how it works!”

You laughed. “No, but if I ever actually get arrested I’m using my IOU to get you to bail me out of jail.”

“I don’t think that a kiss and getting bailed out of prison are comparable, but I didn’t put any conditions on that postcard, did I?”

“Nope!” You smiled happily.

“Well that’s on me, so...”

You took the shuttle together to the other side of the airport where the rest of the Hollands were waiting and finally found them with all of your luggage at the furthest carousel from the entrance.

“It’s about time!” Harry yelled over the crowd as soon as he saw you.

Sam grinned when he saw you and you couldn’t help but grin back. He wrapped an arm around you instinctively and you relaxed into his shoulder, relieved to be with him again. It hadn’t dawned on you until that moment just how attached you were, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the other Hollands were all looking at you expectantly.

“Did everything go okay?” Nikki asked.

Tom nodded. “They made y/n strip, but it was uneventful otherwise.”

You pursed your lips, cheeks burning. “It was just my sweatshirt!” you hissed to Sam.

“Yeah, but you never wear anything under your sweatshirts!” Sam hissed back.

“I had a bra on this time.”

“Oh, so it was just another night at the bar for you?” You wrestled yourself out of Sam’s grasp at that and glared. “Am I wrong?”

Sam’s dad cut in before you could respond. He had a habit of calling “family meetings” in the middle of public spaces to finalize plans and get everybody on the same page, which was always an experience.

“Alright, gather up, gang!” he said, beckoning you all closer. “So we’ll be staying at... this hotel,” he explained and turned his phone around to show you the name of it. “And the thing is, we have two rooms to share between the six of us. One for your mother and I, and another for you four.”

“What?” Sam asked. “You’re going to make us stay with them?”

“I thought we were getting three rooms like every other time,” Tom chimed in.

“We were meant to, but I made a mistake when booking it,” Dom clarified.

“How?”

“The entire website was in Japanese, Sam. I don’t know Japanese!”

“Dad, Google has a translate webpage option!” Harry groaned.

“Well no one told me that while I was booking this entire trip by myself!”

You traded a look with Tom, who looked just as panicked as you felt. But it would only be for a week. You would find a way to manage. You didn’t really have any other option.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Sam tried, forcing a smile.

“That’s the spirit!” Dom cheered. “We’ll make it work.”

sorry she’s short this week :( but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @mischiefmanaged49 @bookingbee @cloverrover @captainbuckyy @perhaps-he-schnapped-blog @awkwardfangirl2014 @the-queen-procrastinator @tastingthestarz @sleepybesson @everythingbooknerd @sunshine96love @bitchymathematician @livingincompletesilence @melsbooktrash @swim-deep-or-die @fizzy828 @spider-slutt @theamuz @nedthegay @astroasethic @stuckonspidey @darlingtholland @sgtbookybarnes @tinyplanet-explorers @mildcockandballtorture @uglypastels @gennyld @devin-marie @r-wooooosh @hell-yeah-peter-parker @itssnowingandimstuckinside @relise-thefury @osteporosis @legendsofwholock @peterunderoos @fuckyeahhomerun @nobelwarriorheroes @delicately-important-trash @thwip-it-real-good @claryfray101 @softholand @tomhollandseverything @cool-ultra-nerd @jillanaholland @dinasaur36 @farfromhaz @hanlons-wp @moon-390 @parkerstylesperalta @httpchrisevans @screeching-student-unknown @almondholland @noisyzineeggsbandit @5sos-microwave @quackson-love @smilealways19 @quackeroos @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @wolvesofwinter @mukesnugget @mytonycinematicuniverse @itsjusttor @percysmcu @peterquillzsblog @lovewolfspirit @biebsmylife95 @a-disappointing-teen-author @justanotherusername80 @b-buckys @sunkisseddreamerr @hufflepuffprincess24 @princessxcryxbaby @tinyyoungblood @holyfrickfracks @amii-nyc @clara-licht @veryholland @captainamirica @ultrunning @cocoamoonmalfoy @nellbellzz-blog @bookfrog242 @honeymoonlover @nellabellaa @its-the-solar-system @spiitfiires @tomhollandfangirl1 @parkeromanoff @randomstufflol29 @pogueslandia @hollandswife @bunnyweasley23 @determined-overthinker @madz-holland @hi-yekaterina @rinaaa334 @elishi03 @abcxrandomx @hiraethenthusiast @marajillana

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#instead of you #iou #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

Note

You said in another post you don’t believe the Knights of Walpurgis (aka Death Eaters 1.0) were all that plausible. Why is that?

Oof, this is a larger ask than I think you intend that gets into a lot of controversial things. Though, I suppose that’s what this blog has become.

Remember when I just talked about my weird fanfiction? Remember those days? I remember those days.

I guess to start out we need to go at a high level and acknowledge a few things.

For all we know about Tom Riddle’s life we know very little that came from himself. Most of what we know came to us via The Halfblood Prince, in Dumbledore’s lessons to Harry.

Think what you will about Dumbledore, benign or evil, but we can all acknowledge that the man had a clear goal and agenda in Halfblood Prince. Dumbledore was facing his imminent death, suddenly he no longer was looking at years but a few months to accomplish everything he needed to. He knows Harry is a horcrux, knows he himself no longer has time to hunt down Tom’s horcruxes himself, and instead must leave all his work to Severus and, partly, to Harry Potter.

Specifically, he has to groom Harry for suicide.

By the time Severus relays the truth to Harry (never mind that this very nearly didn’t happen in canon and what would Dumbledore do then) Harry must be prepared to sacrifice his own life to stop Voldemort. That, or Severus will have to murder the shit out of him, and that was probably plan B but Dumbledore would prefer it if Harry went along willingly so that the whole thing’s a little less shady. Dumbledore’s not murdering children if the children murder themselves!

This means, in part, convincing Harry that Voldemort is such a monstrous evil that his presence on this earth cannot be tolerated. Voldemort cannot be allowed to survive, even if Harry’s death does not guarantee Voldemort’s destruction, Harry must do it because Voldemort is that bad. There must be no hope, no recourse, and the only action Harry can take is martyrdom.

And so, that is essentially what Dumbledore does.

He gives Harry a series of lessons, hand selecting memories of Tom Riddle’s past (often shockingly innocuous), and then narrates them to tell Harry exactly why Tom Riddle is so evil today. The flimsy excuse of Harry wheedling information out of Slughorn is nice, but not necessary, as Dumbledore has no reason to believe this memory contains information he himself doesn’t already know (indeed, that Tom actually did make six horcruxes as he told Slughorn is a very strange coincidence as we rarely end up doing what we thought or being where we thought we would when we were sixteen).

Per Dumbledore, Tom Riddle was born evil by his very conception, is doomed to be a lowly miserable creature, and that murdering him is effectively putting him out of his misery.

Right, how does this relate to this post?

Well, neverminding what JKR says outside of canon, we learn about the Knights of Walpurgis/Tom’s schoolboy syncophants from Dumbledore. Per Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, while a highly respected and charming student was Evil McEvil who had junior cultists galore. So, you see Harry, the man must die (ergo you must kill yourself).

However, this is frankly ridiculous and not in any way believable.

First, the Hogwarts era when Tom’s in school.

Personally, I believe Tom was regarded 100% as muggleborn. Tom went into Hogwarts with the last name Riddle coming from the muggle world. When he gets sorted into Slytherin he can point to know family members at all (and even if he could would, at best, be considered a low class halfblood). Tom doesn’t know the significance of parseltongue and likely tells no one (I’ll get into this in a few paragraphs). Tom may insist that he could be a halfblood, he knows nothing of his father, but given his origins he himself probably believes he’s muggleborn until he stumbles across the hereditary nature of parseltongue.

Regardless, Tom is impoverished, comes from lower class muggle London, has the last name Riddle, no relatives to vouch for him, and you want me to think that the purebloods sign up to be his cult members?

Even though Tom is terrifyingly talented and brilliant, he will be fighting for respect every inch of the way. At best, I see the Slytherin’s tolerating his presence. Riddle’s tolerable, for a muggleborn, it’s a shame that he has such dirty blood but they’ll admit he’s a talented sort.

However, as soon as he’s out of Hogwarts they’ll drop him like it’s hot.

This is evidenced by a few things. Upon graduation, Tom Riddle struggles to secure employment. He tries for the Defense position but is unvested and a recent graduate, and so is rejected (and when he later tries again Dumbledore laughs in his place and says, “Bitch please, I will never hire you, I just accepted your application so I could spend this interview laughing in your face!”) He does not enter the ministry, which would likely have been far more beneficial to getting him a leg up in society.

No, Tom instead secures employment as a clerk and purchaser at Borgin and Burke’s the wizarding world’s shadiest pawn shop equivalent where he spends his time miserably wooing older women so they’ll sell him their fine goods. Dumbledore tries to convince us this was Tom’s plan, that he somehow knew about the locket beforehand, but this is bullshit. How the hell would Tom know that the heirloom undoubtedly locked away under safe and key had been sold to Borgin and Burkes? And even if he did, why would Tom take up this miserable position doing nothing he wanted to do?

Whatever minions Tom is supposed to have, whatever friends, they dropped him completely, pretended they never knew him, and did nothing to secure Tom’s future.

Now, back to the parseltongue bit since I made a promise. I believe Tom told no one. Had Tom told the Slytherins he was the Heir of Slytherin, this would have spread like wild fire not only across the house but the school. All the staff would remember Tom as Tom Slytherin, Tom would likely have changed his name, and frankly Tom probably would have been able to get into the ministry with a name like that. Tom Riddle’s life would have looked very different.

More, had the Chamber of Secrets episode happened in a world where Tom proves his heritage, he would have immediately been caught. Someone in Slytherin, even if only a few dormmates knew, would have narked on him. Someone would have been jealous, scared, etc. and would have turned him easily over to the authorities. A secret like that simply cannot be kept, it would spread, and there would be no needing to frame Hagrid and none of Tom getting off.

More, I always got the feeling very few knew that Voldemort had once been Tom Riddle. First, it would make recruiting very difficult. Voldemort is the mysterious, beautiful, heir of Slytherin who has come back from abroad to save their country. Tom Riddle is a dirt poor mudblood who comes from decades of incest and squalor.

Given the wizarding world at large does not know who Tom Riddle is (proved by The Chamber of Secrets) I would suspect the vast majority of Death Eaters and Order members didn’t either. Dumbledore was the one who pieced it together thanks, in part, to a ten-year-old Tom Riddle confessing his parseltongue abilities.

If Tom Riddle had told most people he was a parseltongue, far more would have made the connection, it would be common knowledge. Which means, of course, Tom Riddle has no ability to prove his heritage and is thus muggleborn swine.

More, I think Tom wouldn’t want Tom Riddle to be associated with Voldemort. When he becomes Voldemort, he will transcend his lackluster origins and become far more than an ordinary, mortal, man. He will leave the name Riddle behind and no one will remember that boy. He will eclipse his past.

Not to mention, that if Tom gave them the excuse of his heritage, it means giving himself the easy way out in Hogwarts. They won’t be forced to acknowledge him, acknowledge that he’s better than them despite his roots, but instead given the easy excuse of “oh, it’s because he’s the heir of Slytherin, duh”. And I think Tom would loathe the idea of that.

Tom wanting to eradicate the memory of Tom Riddle is especially why I think Voldemort came out of nowhere in the 70′s.

Tom doesn’t want to be recognized as Tom, he wants to be mysterious and originless, to give the purebloods everything they want to believe in. If it’s people he went to school with, they’ll recognize him, he’ll be just an ordinary mortal to them. If it’s their young, stupid, children well then he has a real chance.

Voldemort is a figure of myth, something that appears to come out of legend itself, the savior of his country.

He cannot have origin let alone Tom Riddle’s.

Not to mention the idea that multiple people waited on Tom Riddle for generations, even for decades where we know he went abroad and travelled the world, is utterly ridiculous. Why would they ever do this? What do they even gain from this? And why would it take so long to take over this ridiculously incompetent country THAT ALL OF TOM’S RECRUITS ARE PRACTICALLY SET TO CONTROL (the beauty of the Death Eaters is that they form a good chunk of the Wizengamot, and in using them, Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time).

If Tom Riddle is so terrible, so horrifyingly competent, then it can’t have taken him fifty years of constant work to topple the country.

So, yeah, there were no Death Eaters 1.0.

#ask #anon #tom riddle #voldemort #the death eaters #the knights of walpurgis

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midwestharpy · 3 years ago

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NEW FICS FOR THE NEW YEAR

Year three of our recommendation list is here! Last years list can be found here if you're interested. This year I was fueled by nostalgia and the ATLA revival and it really shows.

I did not write any of these stories! As always, I've tagged authors who had Tumblr with their Tumblrs and attached AO3 profiles for those whose Tumblrs I could not find. If I've made a mistake there, please let me know.

If your story is on this list and you would like to removed, reach out and I will not hesitate to fix that. If any links are incorrect it is equally encouraged to reach out! I want everyone to be able to enjoy this.

PLEASE check the tags for all stories. I've not included TW for any stories as its just a small review, so please take care of yourselves with the following content if you need to.

ON WITH THE SHOW!

Appa and Momo Screw the Timeline by @keetajet

This is one of many ATLA fics I read this year because the Capitalism gods blessed me with the show on Netflix and we went down the rabbit hole FAST. Its a bit of a time travel fix it but its handled SO well and Zuko gets his redemption arc early and we just stan all of this. Never thought I would enjoy a story revolving around Appa and Momo being traumatized but it really is just *chefs kiss*

Bury A Friend by @rweoutofthewoods

Along with the ATLA rabbit hole I somehow reverted back to Voltron but in a good way, you know? This, however, made me reconsider how life works. Lance continues to be the self-sacrificing idiot we all love but god if I wasn't on the verge of tears the whole time. If you need a good cry and are feeling nostalgic, this is the fic for you.

Flames Beneath the Earth by @ilya-boltagon

Another ATLA fic and through this I discovered the beauty of Lu Ten. In this story Lu Ten never died and instead becomes some sort of mildly wanted vigilante trying to keep his cousin alive while dealing with his fathers secret group of old men. Would gladly give my life for Lu Ten after this ngl.

Kevlar and Bubblewrap (Series) by @hedgiwithapen

Not going to lie, I definitely didn't start this year planning on reading Big Hero Six fanfiction. This was recommended to me however, and we just kept going uphill from there. Tadashi surviving mixed with heaping angst and Aunt Cass being a badass confirmed for me that I can in fact enjoy fanfiction from almost everywhere given good circumstances (and trust me, everything was just wonderful).

Once Upon a Time AU (Series) by Compass Rose

I would give my soul for this story any day any time. Everything just fit in ways I never thought it could but it was done so well??? Took me by surprise and I will stand by this forever, its just wonderful. I want more OUA crossovers done this well. I can't wait to see where this story goes and I'm thrilled to be along for the ride.

Son of Sea Foam (Series) by @caffeinatedflumadiddlebutpjo

Percy Jackson being a son of Aphrodite was not something I ever though could work but goddamit does it here. Its all a ruse, but MAN is it pulled of spectacularly with even better writing that managed to sell me on ships other than percabeth for Percy. That's a feat right there, it changes so much about Percy but still keeps him Percy, you know? 10/10 recommend, this may have come out of a surge of nostalgia like the Voltron ones but its so worth it.

Spider-Man Klance AU (Series) by @iwriteshipsnotsailthem

Another aid towards by nostalgia induced fervor a few months ago that was just such a fun time. A friend recommended this to me and I'm so glad for them doing that because it just hits all the things you love from Spider-Man with Klance thrown in there and Voltron shenanigans and I want more people to scream about it with, come join me.

Where the Water Meets the Sky by @speakswords

Yes its another Voltron fic and yes its the last one but if this Mermaid AU (yes, bear with me) didn't grab me by the heart and make me feel alive then nothing ever really existed, did it? The shift from childhood innocence to life impacting them in the fullest way possible is just so well done and made me really think about how many fics I've overlooked with similar premises that could have been written by gods on earth as we have here.

Zukos Honor by Cursed Loaf

This may have been the very fic to sell me on Zukka as a ship, I genuinely can't remember, but happy Zukko in Ba Sing Se with Iroh and Sokka just being Sokka was just??? Amazing??? And refreshing, I really did turn into a softie for these two after this. Please read it.

Mother, I Can Hear You by @harringrovecryptid

This year was really the year of me reading stories from fandoms I never thought I would. I just casually had this thrown at me by a friend and like? I desperately want more Stranger Things fanficiton now. This is one of my more recent reads, and I'm trying to catch up on updates or I would have found more by now. The angst of the series as well as developing on characters that really only got named in cannon was so refreshing and the writings style just made me happy. Ironic, given the track record for the series as a whole.

Thats it for our list this year folks! If you have any stories to recommend to me I'd love to hear it! This is all my opinion at the end of the day but I hope you're able to find a good story from this regardless.

And for those following me for my own writing, there will be an update on my (lack of) progress soon, I swear I'm not dead.

Happy New Year everybody!

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

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How could you do this babe?

In Breakable Heaven chapter one! Here we go!

Summary: Reader’s ready to celebrate her anniversary with her boyfriend, but things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing, drunk people

Word Count: ~2100

“…leave a message at the beep.”

You couldn’t help but be disappointed that he didn’t answer, but didn’t mind leaving a message. “Hey babe, I was able to close the bookstore early! I should be to yours in the next few minutes if you want to celebrate early. I know you like to have ample time to get ready, so I guess I just wanted to warn you. Anyway, I love you. See you soon.” You left the voicemail as you walked to your car. Tonight you are celebrating your three-year anniversary. You even changed into your brand new lingerie to surprise him, wearing a long coat to hide it in public. It felt a little bit wrong not wearing real clothes, but you were determined to make this the best anniversary celebration yet.

The drive to his apartment was relatively uneventful. A light rain started about halfway through the five-minute drive. As you pull up to his apartment building, you notice the lights on in his room. “Good, he’s home” you think to yourself as you open the door, shuffling inside from the muggy DC weather. As you approach the apartment door, you can hear the soft music of the playlist you made last month featuring all of Taylor Swifts most romantic love songs. Your heart flutters as you think of the kind gesture. Of course, he would be thoughtful enough to put on music as you arrived at his apartment. Unlocking the door and untying your coat at the same time proved to more difficult than anticipated, but you managed to nudge the door open whispering “happy anniversary baby” in the sultriest tone you could.

As you took in the rest of the apartment, your heart burst. There were roses everywhere. Candles lit a path to the bedroom. Maybe he did know how to be a romantic. Dropping your things on the counter and sliding your coat off the rest of the way, you tip toed into the bedroom to surprise him since he clearly did not get your message. The next sixty seconds felt as though time stopped. Or, more accurately, you froze and everything else in the world took on an impossible speed.

As you pushed open the bedroom door, three things caught your attention. First, you felt a surprising amount of resistant as you pushed the door over a bundle of clothes you didn’t recognize. Second, you heard the bed bouncing against the wall. Third, you saw streaks of auburn hair running through you’re boyfriend’s hands as he mercilessly pounded into a woman you didn’t recognize.

Apparently, your entrance was too quiet for either of them to be interrupted. All you could manage was to slowly retreat into the living room, closing the door, but knocking into a side table. You could hear them as they stopped moving, running to the door to investigate the noise. All you wanted was to get out of there though. Throwing your coat back over your lingerie, you grabbed your purse and keys, slamming the door shut. You didn’t even turn around when you heard him opening the door and calling your name. Whatever he had to say was not worth your time anymore.

You couldn’t get the image of the two of them in bed together out of your head. You were feeling absolutely everything at once. You felt betrayed. You felt sad. A small part of you was actually glad you had a reason to end it. It had never felt like the kind of relationship that would move on. But still, you thought you were happy with him.

But mostly, you were pissed. Rightfully so, but you had no idea where to go or what to do. Your blind adrenaline carried you to the car, and you wound up at a bar. You don’t even remember starting the car, much less driving, but you knew you needed something to drink. You ran inside, ordering tequila shots to drown the sadness, and sat at the bar. As you sat at the bar, contemplating your existence, a man walked up to sit next to you. You had your fair share of practice with this scenario. You had mastered the right mix “fuck off” and “sorry, I’m taken” to get men like this guy to back off with just a single look. But right now, all you could manage was a halfhearted grin that very clearly said “you do not want to deal with my emotional baggage right now.” It was all in the crazed look in your eyes, you were sure of it.

Nobody else came up to you while you were there. You couldn’t help but think over the past three years with him for signs that he was unfaithful. You couldn’t come up with any, the cheating bastard. He must have been pretty good at hiding the secret phone calls and date nights. But then again, you had your own secrets. Not that they would have made him feel like you do right now.

After sitting long enough to consume four shots of tequila, two vodka sodas, and one dark and stormy, reality set in. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball and scream. Or cry. You were obviously not returning to his apartment, but you couldn’t go back to your own either. There was too much there that reminded you of him. The idea of walking in there to see his sweatshirt on your couch made you feel sick. You were teetering on the edge of a full breakdown when the idea struck you. Penelope.

Penelope Garcia is your best friend. You met her at a Doctor Who convention the same day you met he who must not be named. She was there with Kevin, but they broke up a while ago. The realization that you could go to Penny’s couldn’t have come at a better time. Ha. Penny. You only call her that when you’re drunk. She’ll know what to do. You opened your phone, barely able to call up the Lyft to take you to her apartment. It’s honestly shocking you didn’t fall asleep on the seven minute drive there. Whatever, all you needed now was to get inside and forget about him.

After entering the building, you tried the elevator. Of course it was broken. It took you about thirty six minutes to hobble your way up two flights of stairs to Penny’s floor. With each step, you considered texting her to come get you, but you knew the second you saw her you would break down. You absolutely did not want to start sobbing on these stairs. Too many people could see you. Finally arriving to her door, you were exhausted. Mentally and physically drained. Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” you imitated the Big Bang Theory, knowing the small joke would make you smile, even if just for a second. When the door finally opened, you vaulted in for a hug, not even opening your eyes.

As you squeezed Penny, you finally broke out into a fit of sobs. Whisper yelling, you told her as much of the story as you could remember. “Penny, thank god. I left wo-ork early to surprise Dr-Dr-Drew for our anniversary – hiccup – but he was having s-s-se-sex with someone else…” you let out a strangled sob, not noticing how stiff Penny felt in your embrace. You buried your head into her as you continued “So I got very drunk and came here. Was he cheating on me this whole time?” You asked as your tears turned back to rage. “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him” you shout as your coat had begun to fall open again. After what felt like an hour of crying, but in reality amounted to no more than 60 seconds, you finally noticed something was odd. Two things lead you to a simple conclusion that was somehow difficult to comprehend in your drunk state.

First, Penny felt taller. Second, she was wearing converse. Upon noticing these two facts, your hands traveled up the body you were hugging until you found shoulders. Turning your head up, your eyes followed the path your hands had just taken. This series of events lead to the obvious fact that whomever you were hugging was absolutely not Penelope Garcia. Penelope was in fact not even in the foyer, but rather a very attractive, tall man with slightly curly brown hair and eyes like honey was staring back at you. And you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Reid’s POV

Spencer hadn’t actually had anything to drink since arriving at Garcia’s. No, he just drank prior to that point. Normally, he didn’t drink at all when his team got together, but this was just worth celebrating. Another serial killer was behind bars for life because of the work the team did today. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi stayed for a few hours before they left. As part of the “young crowd” on the team, he had stayed at the bar longer than the two older men before the group of you retreated to Garcia’s. Hers was the closest apartment, and everyone else wanted to keep the party going. Spencer couldn’t help but join them, not wanting to return to his empty apartment after the long day they all spent testifying.

Finishing his second glass of water, he began to get up to get more and maybe some for the group when everyone heard the knocking. The group laughed as three consecutive “Penny’s” came from the door. “Reid, can you get that since you’re already up?” Garcia asked, motioning toward the door. “It must be Y/N. She always calls me Penny when she’s drunk.” He obliged. He obviously remembered Garcia mentioning Y/N before, but he had never met her. He swung the door open, expecting a drunk friend of Garcia’s. He was not prepared, however, for said drunk friend to throw herself at him, grasp him in an alarmingly tight hug, and start sobbing. He could barely make out what you were saying through the sobs hearing “surprise Drew”, “anniversary”, “sex”, and “drunk” before you practically screamed “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him.”

It was clear you meant to be pouring her heart out to Garcia, but you hadn’t yet realized who answered the door. For the first time in his life, Dr. Spencer Reid couldn’t think of words to say as you ran your hands up his body to his shoulders. You were clearly taking in the information required to come to the conclusion that he is not in fact Penelope Garcia. As your eyes met his, all he could do was stare. He made every effort to keep his eyes level with yours, but one glace was all it took to be ingrained in his memory forever. He wouldn’t have looked, but the movement of your coat caught his eye as it revealed the exact type of surprise you had planned for whoever Drew was.

The two of you were frozen, unsure of how to proceed. You looked just like he did- a deer in the headlights. Neither of you could move. Neither of you could speak. You could both hear Garcia’s voice as she stumbled down the hallway, but it sounded distant. It wasn’t until the mystery woman broke eye contact that he backed away. Trying desperately to control the blush he were sure had made its way to his cheeks.

Y/N’s POV

The moment was broken as you felt Penny turn you towards her. The flush on your cheeks only grew as you kept your eyes on the tall man as he retreated into the living room, not having said a word. “Y/N… Y/N? Y/N!” Penny had to yell slightly to get your attention. “What happened? What are you doing here? I thought you were celebrating tonight?” She asked rapid fire. You could tell she was also a little bit drunk.

You told her everything. The words practically falling out of you as you started crying again. “Oh babe, I’m so sorry. Here, let’s get you inside.” Penny started to guide you into the living room, but you froze “Wait! Can I borrow some clothes before I go in there? I don’t need to flash anyone else right now.” You whispered. Penny laughed, “Of course! Who did you fla- ohhh. Reid.” She said, trying to hold back the giggles.

“Yes. If that is the very tall man with the perfect eyes and the completely tuggable hair.” You responded, not quite filtering your thoughts, as you were still very drunk.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Penny replied, not knowing how else to respond to the fact that you are very clearly attracted to the young doctor, but also going through shit right now. She would just file away this information for later.

taglist:

@mac99martin

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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sineala · 4 years ago

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A Few Thoughts About Hurt/Comfort

I have been asked this month to make a post about hurt/comfort in Avengers comics. And I love h/c -- I actually have a massive number of WIPs right now that are h/c -- so I am very happy to talk about it! Anyway, this is not really all that planned out and this mostly turned into an excursus on Tony Stark's pain. I'm sure you're all surprised.

Like pretty much everyone else, I'm sure, I have found that everything lately has been... pretty tough. And the coping mechanism that really got me through last year and this year was reading and writing a lot of h/c, on the theory that, however lousy a day I'm having, I can absolutely make sure that Tony Stark has a worse one. And then I can make sure he gets hugs. Wish fulfillment? Why, yes. (Once at Hallmark I was trying to find a "get well soon" card, forgot what it was called, and described it to my wife as "a hurt/comfort card.") I think Marvel Comics -- the Avengers side, in particular -- is an interesting canon for h/c for a lot of reasons. Though, honestly, if you asked me to recommend you, a hurt/comfort fan, a new fandom, I would probably just hand you some Starsky & Hutch DVDs. Go watch "The Fix" and get back to me later. If you like that, there's way more where that came from. But there's still lots to love in Marvel! Superhero comics are really a goldmine as far as the hurt side of h/c. Because superheroes, and you probably have noticed this, get hurt a lot. They get hurt repeatedly, in fantastical ways that are probably impossible in real life both physically and emotionally (at least, I don't think anyone's invented mind control yet), and even the heroes without superhuman healing powers tend to get physically hurt a whole lot worse than actual people can take. Currently in Iron Man comics, Tony has a broken back and is dealing with this by locking himself into the armor as a backboard and injecting himself with massive doses of painkillers. He's busy! He's got stuff to do! He doesn't have time to lie around and heal! So, basically, if you name a kind of pain that you would like to see happen to a character, it's probably happened to superheroes. Multiple times. The downside, though, is that comics do not really deliver that well when it comes to the comfort part of h/c. They could. It's not inherent to the medium that they don't. But because of the serial nature of comics and also the fact the primary audience is dudes who want to read about people in spandex punching each other, a lot of the time they don't really feel the need to provide closure and write about people dealing with any of the hurt. (Raise your hand if you're still annoyed with the end of Hickman's Avengers run.) But at the same time, I think that's a quality that makes Avengers ripe for h/c fanfic. Because, generally speaking, fandom likes to provide the things that canon doesn't, and fandom is more than happy to provide the comfort. If you enjoy canonical h/c in comics, I think you really can't go wrong with Iron Man. One of the big innovations of modern Marvel Comics was the concept that heroes would also suffer from relatable human problems, and in practice what this means is that a lot of heroes start with a fully-loaded angst-ridden backstory and origin story, ripe for h/c. So Tony starts out by incurring a heart injury that he fully expects is going to kill him, which he responds to by vowing he won't get close to anyone so they won't be sad when he dies, and throughout the early Silver Age is constantly on the brink of death as his heart nearly gives out on him practically every issue. And then even after his heart gets (mostly) better, there are various plots involving his armor being detrimental to his health and him choosing to fight on anyway. It's hard for me to think of another superhero hitting that particular variety of h/c in exactly the same way. Sure, superheroes risk their lives constantly, because this is how superhero comics work, but Tony is the only one I can think of who is this constantly this badly off, physically. Like, think of all the other heroes who have had a continual solo presence as fan favorites across Marvel history -- Captain America, Thor, Spider-Man, Wolverine, maybe even Deadpool. You know what those guys all have? Healing factors! For the most part, they are not running around continually on the verge of death, and while there are certainly memorable arcs involving several of them being severely injured and/or dead, you really have to work at it. It's not their constant state of affairs, whereas Tony is the kind of superhero who shows up to a fight already bleeding out under his armor. Yeah, I know Extremis gave him a healing factor. But he didn't have it very long, and also he did some extremely dangerous things while he did have it; I'm pretty sure I've never seen Wolverine saying that he'll just solve a problem by cutting off his own foot. So, anyway, yeah, there are a bunch of good arcs involving h/c for Tony. If you're looking for physical injury, he has a whole bunch of heart problems over the years, gets several new hearts, then ruins his brain, et cetera. That level of hurt is basically the background pain of Tony's life; every so often, his heart will get damaged or he'll have to live in the armor or the armor will be killing him, et cetera. If you're looking for more unusual trauma, I am, as always, going to rec Manhunt, a relatively obscure arc in late v3 (IM v3 #65-69) in which Tony has an extremely bad week. His tech is stolen and used to bomb a building. Then he gets shot in the chest. Then while he's at the hospital a nurse tries and fails to poison him, and she then tries to beat him to death. Then he checks himself out of the hospital and a helicopter shoots missiles at him. Then he becomes a fugitive from justice. And then, oh, yeah, he has to fight the Mandarin. It is... a lot. (Volume 3 of Iron Man is pretty good as far as h/c possibilities. You've got a lot of physical pain, Carol's drinking arc, the Sentient Armor, both DreamVision arcs, and Manhunt. Manhunt is finally supposed to be out in trade this month, by the way.) There are of course the drinking arcs, which probably count as their own type of hurt. But if you haven't read the second drinking arc (IM #160-200), please do. Marvel likes to up the stakes on events (Fear Itself, Secret Empire) by making Tony drink, and it does work, I think. I feel like I've spoken at length about Tony's drinking elsewhere so I don't really want to rehash it all here. And then there's the emotional pain. Angst and drama is something that happens to a whole bunch of characters, yes, especially in comics, but somehow Tony seems to end up with possibly more than his fair share of it. Fandom likes to make a lot of Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, so much so that you might think, if you didn't know canon, that this was just fandom running with a throwaway mention of Tony's terrible childhood and making it worse. But, no, canon really does go there with a reasonable amount of frequency. Howard's actual first appearance is in a flashback where he's ordering teenage Tony to break up with his girlfriend because she's the daughter of one of Howard's business rivals. And then we get into the verbal abuse, and the physical abuse, and the time Howard made Tony take his first drink, and the part where Howard was a demon in hell who Tony fought while he insulted him. And more! Currently, in canon, Howard is alive again and is in league with Mephisto for the express purpose of ruining Tony's life. Also when Tony was a baby, Howard tried to trade him to Dracula. I think you can make an argument that fandom is actually showing restraint when compared to canon. Tony also has a whole lot of Terrible Exes whose presence and/or former presence in Tony's life can be used for a lot of hurt. If you've read any amount of fanfic, you probably know that the exes who get the most play in fandom are Sunset Bain and Tiberius Stone -- not that Tony and Ty were ever canonically a couple, of course, but fandom is definitely enamored of this idea. Ty and Sunset both have relatively similar interactions with Tony in canon, in that they are both liars and emotional abusers, heavy on the gaslighting, with the purpose of becoming more successful than Tony. They both also attempt to murder Tony, although this is after he figures out they're evil, at least. (Yes, I know, this is not how either of them usually appear in AUs.) Tony also has a bunch of exes who also have just straight-up tried to murder or otherwise hurt him, sometimes while they are dating, and sometimes before Tony dates them: Whitney Frost, Indries Moomji, Kathy Dare, and Maya Hansen come to mind. There are probably more I'm not thinking of! But, yes, if you want to write about a guy in a series of terrible relationships, please consider Iron Man comics. If mind control is one of your favorite flavors of hurt, Tony's pretty good for that too. We all know about The Crossing. I suppose when I say "mind control" I mostly mean "armor control" because there are an awful lot of plots where someone else makes Tony's armor do whatever they want it to do and Tony is along for the ride -- Demon in a Bottle, Sentient Armor, and Execute Program are the first things that come to mind. There is also a fairly obscure What If that is What If Iron Man Lost The Armor Wars in which Justin Hammer apparently really wants Tony in a mind control collar to take off all his clothes and lounge around in his underwear. No, really. I think a lot of pain for Tony often revolves around his issues with control, generally -- his alcoholism comes into play here again. The entire aftermath of Civil War is also notable for its propensity to hurt Tony over and over and over. Is he stoically soldiering on through his grief after Steve dies? Hell, no! He cries, like, six separate times. He 100% blames himself for Steve's death. It's great. Everybody loves The Confession and the funeral in Fallen Son, but one of my personal favorites is Avengers/Invaders, in which Tony is confronted with a time-traveling Steve from WWII and in order not to screw up the timeline, he can't tell Steve he knows him. He is clearly not coping well. He shuts himself in a room with a giant wall of pictures of Steve! Also there's a part where he has to try to convince Steve he can trust him and he ends up having to tie Steve to a chair to talk to him, and Steve looks at him and asks, "Who did you kill to get where you are?" and I feel like that is probably one of the worst moments in Tony's life. No wonder he gave himself amnesia. So now we might want to ask, okay, but why is hurting Tony in fanfiction so much fun? I mean, I can tell you why I think it's fun. I can't speak for anyone else. One reason is that he is very emotional and very affected by everything he does. Sometimes you will see people complaining that the heroes of m/m fanfic cry too much and this is not realistic. This is not a problem if you're writing Tony! He can cry as much as you want and it's perfectly in character. I don't think it would be as fun to hurt him if he didn't express so much of his pain. But he does. He also feels guilty, and for me that's a very satisfying character element. If he were well-adjusted and didn't blame himself for so many things, it wouldn't be nearly as fun as watching him blame himself for everyone whose death he thinks he is responsible for, whether or not he is. And then he just keeps going, and it's, y'know, nice to watch him be resilient, too. So, I guess, I think hurting him is interesting because it's easy to hurt him, his weak points are pretty obvious, and he reacts a lot. Steve doesn't hurt quite as much as Tony does, in canon. It's certainly possible to hurt him -- I mean, they did actually kill him after Civil War, after all -- but I don't think the canonical patterns of hurting him are as numerous. Obviously deseruming Steve is a fairly popular go-to in terms of physical hurt; he's been deserumed at least three times that I know of. I think's easy to see the appeal there of taking a character who is fairly physically resilient and making him... much less so. Certainly Marvel seems to see the appeal. But other than that I don't think he has any other really common way to get physically injured. Unlike Tony, whose origin story is basically "oh no, I've acquired a disability," Steve's origin story is "I drank a serum that cured all my disabilities." Which, I mean, great wish fulfillment but there's not really as much there to poke at. Pretty much all of Steve's pain is emotional, but, unlike Tony, his pain isn't often specifically in response to someone directly, purposefully hurting him. Hickman's Avengers run is a big exception, yes. His pain seems to come up most often as a kind of situational angst. He feels like a man out of time. He feels out of touch with the modern era, with people his own age. He feels guilt because he feels responsible for Bucky's death. He feels like he can't trust the government and therefore he can't be Captain America. He worries that he doesn't know how to have a normal life. And, yes, these are deep and important worries but it's different than, like, Indries Moomji dumping Tony with the intent to make him sad enough to start drinking. Very few of Steve's villains want to personally ruin Steve's entire life the way Tony's villains do; mostly they just want to do things like bring back the Nazis. In terms of Steve's potential for h/c, I think Steve is harder to hurt than Tony is. Physically, he is definitely harder to hurt. You can deserum him, sure, but unless you want everything you write to be a deseruming fic you're probably not going to want to do that more than a couple of times. And if you want to hurt him physically while he has the serum, you have to hurt him hard. Usually past the point where a regular human would ever survive it. He's also harder to break, emotionally, than Tony is -- which means it's very satisfying when you can get him to break, but this is a guy who's only cried twice (that I remember) in canon. So if you want to get him to cry, you really, really have to wreck him, and he doesn't have as many obvious weak spots. He also doesn't generally sit around blaming himself for things that aren't his fault, and the whole "stewing in guilt" genre of plots for him basically came down to "he was sad that he thought Bucky's death was his fault," and that's really the biggest regret he seems to have, and also Bucky's not dead anymore. The Steve/Tony relationship itself, I would think, is also appealing to h/c fans because canon provides a lot of ways for them to hurt each other. Some people only ship pairings who would never, y'know, take turns beating each other half to death in major event comics. (And for a lot of Marvel Comics history, that was also Steve & Tony, so if you want them to be BFFs who have never fought, you can just set your fic earlier.) They have definitely hurt each other both physically and emotionally, so if you're looking for something easy and satisfying as a h/c fan, you can just read or write something where they... make up. What about Marvel characters other than Steve and Tony? Surely some of them are angsty, yes? Well, yes, but also it depends on the particular flavor of angst that you like. If you like the way Tony hurts, you may very well enjoy Doctor Strange comics, because they have a very similar attitude towards life -- they are both former alcoholics whose origin stories involve physical disabilities, who routinely make tactical decisions that negatively affect their continued existence and/or happiness a whole lot. It's very much an "I must suffer alone in the dark and no one will ever know what I am doing to save the world but it's the right thing to do" sort of vibe. Like, you can read comics where Strange is lying in hell with two broken legs, hallucinating that Clea has finally come to save him. Strange's biggest fear, akin to Tony's control issues, is basically that one day he's going to be an asshole again, so he's out there trying as hard as he can to do good. Also, if you like tentacles, he has all of them. I mean that. Carol also occasionally hits similar angst spots, and her drinking arc is great. A lot of people like Natasha, too; I have read zero Black Widow comics but I get the impression many people enjoy her brand of angst. The mutant metaphor is a little different in terms of overall vibe, but some people really like it as a source of angst -- the whole "protecting a world who hates and fears them" thing. It may not work for you, but if you like your hurt to include things like systemic oppression, go pick up some X-Men comics. Start with something like God Loves Man Kills. I feel like I liked this sort of thing a lot more as a teenager but that I kind of aged out of liking the mutants quite so much. It's also worth mentioning that not everything that hits the spot in one universe will be the same in the others, and I'm mentioning this because I feel like I have to say something about MCU Bucky. MCU fandom seems to get a lot of mileage out of Bucky's guilt about being the Winter Soldier, everything he was forced to do, et cetera. I have definitely read my share of those fics, and FATWS sure went right for that angst too. But as far as I can tell, he doesn't hit the same way at all in 616. And I like him a lot in 616; I'm always pleased when he shows up on a team. (He was so good in Strikeforce. Everyone was so good in Strikeforce.) But the thing is, 616 Bucky is, basically, phenomenally well-adjusted, given everything he's gone through, and I'm including the time he wrestled a bear in a gulag. He gets over having been the Winter Soldier, and now he's just, y'know, a guy with a cool arm who likes to bring guns to every fight to horrify his teammates, and he snarks at Clint. If you're looking for that angst, that is really not him these days. He's all better. So pretty much all that is canon. So what do we do in fandom for h/c? Well, as far as I can tell, a decent amount of it is canon-based or very canon-close -- there are a whole lot of stories exploring the angst of Civil War or Hickman's Avengers run. Tony's drinking comes up a fair amount, and if one of Tony's Evil Exes comes back to haunt him, it's pretty much only Tiberius Stone. I don't think I've read a lot of fic with Steve getting deserumed; it doesn't seem as popular in fandom as in canon. When Steve gets hurt, he tends to just get physically whumped pretty hard, and there's a fair amount of that for Tony too, but of course Steve can take more. There's also a thriving, uh, subgenre of pain involving Hydra Steve doing terrible things to Tony, presumably the terrible things he would have wanted to do to Tony in canon if Tony had had a flesh body. There's the usual kinds of h/c setups that appear in basically every fandom as well -- sickfic, whump, dub-con/non-con. You get the idea. But since fandom in general likes to take specific inspiration from canon, there's a lot of fic where the hurt tends to resemble things that happen more in canon. Like, I feel like comics fic probably has more tentacle fic and more mind control than canons that don't come pre-stocked with those. Probably everybody has a whole lot of "tied up by bad guys," though. And then, of course, fandom brings the comfort that canon does not. This is true in pretty much every fandom -- I mean, you aren't going to find a lot of actual canons where Character A saves Character B from mortal peril and then there's gay sex -- but, like I was saying, comics don't provide a lot of closure before it's onto the next thing. Usually with a different creative team, who has no interest in wrapping up anything from the last team. Steve and Tony talked about the incursions exactly once after Secret Wars and nobody mentioned the part where Steve spent several months trying to hunt Tony down and kill him. Tony is never going to remember the events of Civil War. Hydra Steve died ignominiously in a fire and no one has ever talked about him again. Honestly, if you're looking for a way to get some comfort in your fanfic, picking an event, any event, and just having the characters talk about it will be way more than any of them get in canon. I feel like honestly that can often be a pretty satisfying to read. And even though comics canon physically hurts characters pretty often and pretty badly, they also often skip right past the recovery. Maybe you'll get one page of a character in a hospital bed at the end of the story arc. Maybe you won't. Demon in a Bottle has one splash page of Tony going through alcohol withdrawal and then he's all better. I think Manhunt skips to Tony getting out of the hospital at the end. That's just not a story that they want to tell very often. The second drinking arc is notable in that it devotes almost as many issues to Tony's recovery as it does to getting him to rock-bottom. Similarly, Steve is done with his Nomad angst way way faster than you probably think he is (though The Captain does go in for a fair number of issues). So one of the things we often want to do in fandom is focus on all the bits that canon skips over, both in the "why did no one ever mention this story arc ever again" way and the "wow, so how long are they in the hospital after that" way. That's really all I can think of about h/c! I'm off to write some more of it!

#posts i actually wrote

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mdawritings · 4 years ago

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Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 13

II.II

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Song(s): “Mr. Perfectly Fine” by Taylor Swift

You find yourself having more sleepless nights than ever before. Every time you close your eyes you’re facing the terrifying horrors your brain has managed to conjure up. The sounds of people screaming for help as debris rains down around you. You’re fighting against the arms of two firemen. Someone has to help them!

Your alarm is still hours away from ringing, yet you glance at the time every few minutes, every minute dragging along like it’s an hour. Your eyes are glued to your ceiling fan, watching as it swings back and forth slightly with each rotation of the blades.

After your first case with the BAU, things have started to slow down. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t have cases every single day of the week. Most of your days of work are summarized by piles and piles of paperwork. The team seems to be perpetually behind on every case report. The team tries to write up a general profile for every case that requests the BAU assistance that you can’t help with in person. In addition, Strauss loves to load the whole team with special talking events and lecture series. There’s hardly a day where everyone is in the office at the same time and when you are, you’re all soon called away on a case.

You haven’t been called away on a case since your first with the team. You actually don’t mind doing paperwork most of the day. The main reason is that it gives you an easy way to stay away from Hotch. You’ve jokingly struck up a deal that for every one of your files that Reid walks up to Hotch’s office for you, you’ll buy him a coffee. So far you owe him nearly two weeks of coffee.

Hotch is not completely oblivious. He’s caught on to your little game and so far, he’s been kind enough to give you some distance. He’s stopped pressuring you to talk to him. Maybe he finally sensed the raw emotion of your voice the other day in his office.

You resign yourself to the fact that you’re not going to fall back to sleep before your alarm rings. You pull the sheets off of you, kicking your feet off to the side, wrapping your arms around your body tightly as a shiver runs through you. The temperature in Virginia is dropping rapidly as winter takes over. You love when it’s cold. You love the way the cold, blustery air bites at your skin and makes you tingly. It’s a nice reminder that you’re alive. After everything you’ve been through, you’re still standing. You can still feel something. You can feel the cold.

You go through the motions of your morning routine, taking a shower to wake yourself up, brushing your teeth, pulling on some slacks and a nice blouse. You turn on some music while you get ready but even your favorite songs can’t seem to pull your head out from the haze you are living in recently. Your body is working on autopilot because before you know it, you’ve finished your makeup. It’s not even 6 AM.

You pop half of a bagel into the toaster, make a cup of coffee in your thermos, and then cover the bagel with cream cheese and honey. You look around your half-empty apartment, taking your time to eat your small breakfast.

Today is just going to be one of those particularly difficult and painful days. You can sense it. Your body feels lit up with nerves. Eating your breakfast is difficult, just the taste of the food making you sick to your stomach.

Your thoughts bounce between two topics: your past in the FBI and your past with Aaron Hotchner. It’s hard to believe that the Aaron Hotchner you see every day is the same Aaron Hotchner you once knew. You glance at the time, if you don’t leave soon you‘ll miss the train and be stuck at home for another hour. You rush out the door, walking to the train station. You settle into a seat, pulling your headphones on, hoping to drown out the rattling and humming of the train. You reach down to dig through your bag for your thermos of coffee. Shit.

The thermos is sitting on your counter. You can practically see it in your mind, right there on the edge of the counter. It’s almost become a joke at this point the horrible quality coffee of the BAU. You and Reid have a running joke about starting up a collection fund for better quality coffee, at least for your BAU floor. Nearly every team member brings their own coffee, settling for the shitty stuff in the conference room or on the jet in place of their second or third cup that day.

You get off the train, tempted to call Reid to bring you coffee, but according to your deal, you’re supposed to be the one doing that for him. You let out a tired sigh, calling a car to drive you to the office, wincing at the cost of your morning commute. You really need to get a car.

The parking lot is almost completely empty. You swipe your ID at the door. The night guard hasn’t switched out for the morning guard yet. You recognize him from some of the late nights you’ve had within your first week of work and give a small smile and nod. Your heart thumps into your throat every time you step onto the elevator in this building. All this in an attempt to avoid being alone with Hotch.

You reach forward to press floor six, when a voice calls out, footsteps moving rapidly towards the elevator, “Hold the elevator please!” You see a black briefcase swing up between the closing doors as you lunge for the door hold button. “Thank you—” There’s a slight hesitation in Hotch’s voice as he pauses and looks over you. “Agent.” He steps into the elevator. You make room for him, putting as much space between the two of you as possible.

You attempt your best, most polite, professional smile and nod, “Good morning, Sir.” You rock back and forth on your toes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him open his mouth to say something before closing it again. There’s a long pause.

Should you say something? A normal employee would ask their boss how they are and make small talk. But this isn’t really the most normal boss/employee relationship. It seems frivolous to make small talk with someone who has seen the most intimate parts of you.

“You’re here early again,” Hotch finally speaks up. The elevator’s cool blue fluorescent lighting somehow emphasizes just how warm those brown eyes of his are. Those intimate parts of you that you keep shrouded from the naked eye, every single weakness you have shoved down, seem to be on full display in the way that he looks at you.

“I was already up. Thought I’d come in and get some work done,” The only way to keep the profiler in him at bay is to tell him some version of the truth. It’s true. You were already awake. You did decide it would just be better to come in and get started on work. However, you know that the exhaustion in your face is something you can’t hide away from his analytical eyes. There’s something in his expression that you can’t quite place as he gazes back at you. It’s a cross between disbelief and pity.

Pity. That’s definitely something you don’t want. Especially not from him. But maybe it’s not pity? Concern?

“I work out in the mornings,” Now you’re just fully lying, “I finished early and thought why not come in.”

“Y/N-” His voice lowers in volume as if someone’s listening to your conversation. He says your name like it’s a swear word. Like the name is some secret, forbidden phrase that he shouldn’t be saying, especially not at work. The elevator doors ring and they open to the BAU floor. Thankfully, there’s a worker from the night crew waiting to get on, interrupting whatever Hotch planned to say, and you’re quick to step off, moving around the man.

Hotch knows better than to follow after you to continue the conversation. There’s no one else in the offices yet, but the elevator is like neutral territory. A space separate from the job. Some sort of limbo between personal and professional. If the elevator is neutral, the BAU floor is the war front.

The situation is comical. You speed away from him, but he has to walk right past you to get to his office. What you don’t expect is the small coffee cup that he places on your desk before continuing right up to his office.

You remember him holding a tray of coffees in the elevator. Did he always intend to give you one of them? Is this attempt at a truce?

You remove the lid from the cup. The steam erupts wildly, just the smell of the coffee alone enough to already start perking you up. Once the initial small burst of heat clears, you stare down into the cup, expecting to see completely black coffee, the way that Hotch takes his. To your surprise, it's a light caramel color and you can smell a slight sweetness. You take a long sip. It’s perfect. You haven’t changed the way you take your coffee. He remembers your order. Is that supposed to mean something?

You realize you’ve been staring into your coffee for too long once you see Morgan and Garcia step off the elevator, his arm casually thrown around her shoulders. You can’t hear their conversation, but she says something, vibrantly gesturing with her hands, as Morgan lets out a laugh, flashing those perfect teeth of his. He gives Garcia’s arm a reassuring squeeze. She turns and scurries off to her little lair while Morgan turns towards the bullpen, digging around for a file in his bag.

“You’re always here early, new girl,” Morgan teases with a playful smack of the file to your head as he walks past.

“I have a name, Morgan,” You roll your eyes, attempting to fix your hair.

“What can I say? I’m a big fan of nicknames,” He grins and starts to walk towards the stairs.

“Wait! Can you take this file up to Hotch?” You hold out the papers from your desk. You give him your best, most innocent, pleading eyes. Usually, that works pretty well to get Reid to do things for you. Flirting really trips Reid up. The problem with Morgan is that he doesn’t get flustered or uncomfortable like Reid, he plays into your flirtations. You get along much better with Morgan now that he’s had about a week to warm up to you.

He still doesn’t trust you and you can tell that he questions your skills. So occasionally, you’ll indulge him. You’ll ask him for advice on something you’re working on. You’ll ask him to check your work before you hand it in to Hotch. You want him to know you respect him.

You don’t trust easily and neither does he, a quality that you have both noticed in each other. Morgan doesn’t push you to indulge him with your past. The other team members haven’t pushed you necessarily, but they seem to dance around the topic of your dismissal. Morgan avoids the topic entirely. You get the feeling that you and Morgan are way more similar than it would appear on the surface.

“Pretty boy gets free coffee, what do I get?” He stops and walks back closer to you.

“What do you want?” You smirk and lean forward placing your chin in the palm of your hand.

Morgan pauses and thinks for a second, “You come out with the team for drinks sometime, first round on you.”

You roll your eyes, “Fine. Deal.” You hold out the files and he takes them with a smile.

“I would’ve done it just to be nice, you know,” He laughs and walks up to knock on Hotch’s door. “Just wanted to see what I could get out of the new girl.” He opens the door, disappearing into the office. Emily finally arrives for the day, Reid trailing close behind her.

“All I’m saying is there are so many scientific fallacies built into the Jurassic Park franchise that it's totally reasonable to watch the films as comedies. I mean mixing Jurassic DNA with any other species just produces new species, not the same exact dinosaurs from the Jurassic period.” Reid rambles on and Emily just shoots you a look.

“This is why I don’t offer to carpool anymore,” She taunts and smiles at you.

“Not even me?” You smile, giving Reid a playful kick under the desks as he sits down.

“Are you going to annoy me about the minuscule details of every great award-winning movie?” She raises a brow, unpacking her belongings, setting a large cup of steaming coffee down.

“Well, I don’t know shit about science,” You shake your head, “I might complain about different book to screen adaptations and the number of details lost and the symbolism lost in the transfer of the work to the screen.”

“It’s moments like these that make me hate that the rest of the team has their own offices,” Prentiss sighs, already reaching for her headphones. You’re not really supposed to listen to music while working, but she breaks that rule all the time. She argues it helps her focus, but you really think it helps distract her from the horrors on the page. In the past week, you’ve learned that Emily Prentiss is great at compartmentalizing.

She’s easily able to push aside personal for professional, however, that comes at a great mental cost for her. She reminds you a little bit of Hotch in that way. She pushes the personal feelings down so deep that it’s hard for her to retrieve them when she needs to, so she’s wary of how detached she gets. But being emotionally detached from the work is the only way to avoid pain. So she listens to music.

Only two case reports later, the day is almost over. The days of sleep deprivation are finally taking a toll on your work ethic. Your brain is in a haze. You thought the two servings of caffeine would help clear your mind, but instead, they’ve just heightened your anxiety, making you more on edge than you already were. It doesn’t help that every few minutes your eyes drift up to the blinds of Hotch’s office, looking up at him while he focuses down on his work.

How can he be so… okay? He pretends as if your presence isn’t immensely distracting. Maybe it isn’t for him. Whatever he felt for you all those years ago was never love, you know that. Maybe he liked the ego boost of the way you worshipped him, hanging on to every last word out of his mouth. Maybe he just liked your body. He broke your heart, yet he sits in his office like everything is perfect.

“Today’s cases?” Reid stands next to your desk, a large stack of files in his arms already.

“How do you get those done so fast?” You shake your head at him and hand him your two, very slim, files.

“Eidetic memory, high-speed reading, genius-level IQ,” Emily pipes up without looking at the two of you. “Any of those options is a good explanation.”

“Thank you, Spence. I am forever in your debt,” You tease him as he gives a cute little tight-lipped smile, rushing up the stairs to hand in the work from the day.

As if on cue, Garcia, Morgan, and JJ step into the bullpen, their bags slung over their shoulders and Rossi comes down from the catwalk to meet the three.

“So how about that drink now?” Morgan once again has an arm wrapped around Garcia who then glances between the two of you.

“Yes! The newbie has to join us for drinks!” She smiles wildly, “Oh I just know you’re going to be so much fun. Plus, I have so much I want to interrogate you about.” It’s a light-hearted joke, a turn of phrase, but you know that Garcia probably vetted you within minutes of your time at the BAU. Penelope Garcia has the biggest heart of anyone you’ve ever met. She has so much love and joy for her family, this team, but you also know that she will do anything to keep her family safe. She’s not a violent person, but you know that if she had to die to protect this stand-in family, she would.

You glance among the faces of your new team, each more hopeful and excited than the last. They’ve all been immensely welcoming, despite their individual reservations about you. “I guess I could be down for a drink or two.” You start packing your bag. You hear Hotch’s office door open.

“Pretty boy, you down for drinks? Y/L/N is buying the first round!” Morgan calls up to Reid. You smile up at him, but it quickly drops when you see him.

Reid’s eyes flit to yours and there’s an apologetic look on his face, “Y/N, Hotch wants to talk to you.” The team exchanges a series of looks, your face getting warm as soon as you can feel all eyes on you.

You wave at them dismissively, “You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up if I have time,” You force a smile, pulling your bag onto your shoulder, practically dragging yourself up the stairs. As you pass Reid, he gives your hand a small touch. It’s small, but it means the world to you. You know how weird Reid is about contact and germs. He hugs or touches the team because he trusts them. He feels a sense of family with them. It’s only been a week, yet you and Reid have shared countless passionate conversations about books.

He gives you recommendations and you rush to buy them. You indulge his rambling rants. Sometimes you ride the train together. He gets off much later than you on the train, taking it all the way to DC, but he makes the ride seem like seconds, not minutes. You love to see what people are passionate about and Spencer Reid is passionate about everything. He loves to learn, a feeling you relate to heavily.

You knock on the hardwood door, the nameplate seeming to stare back at you, taunting you. It isn’t new that a door with Aaron Hotchner’s name on it haunts you, but this one is different. It holds so much more potential. Just a little strip of metal adhered to the dark wood. Yet it holds your past life with him and about a million different possible future ones both with and without him.

You hear a deep ‘come in’ through the door and push it open to see Hotch hunched over, focused on the work on his desk, the same way he’s looked all day through his blinds. “Please, sit,” He reaches for a pen and your eyes go to the form on his desk.

You smooth out your pants as you take the seat across from him. “You wanted to see me?”

“Interesting system you’ve worked out with Morgan and Reid.” If you weren’t looking directly at him you would swear he was smiling through the comment, but instead, you're faced with those emotionless eyes of his.

“I’m sorry,” You stumble over your words a little. Did he call you up here to reprimand you for not walking your own work up to his office? “It’s just a little silly thing I was doing. It’s childish I’ll—”

“That’s not why I needed to see you,” He cuts you off, waving his hand. He leans forward, one arm resting on the armrest of his chair, the other hand holding his pen. He rubs his fingers together with the pen in his hand.

Needed to see you. He didn’t mean those words that way, but your brain takes them and runs with them, forcing you to need a second to breathe. As always, Hotch sucks the oxygen out of your lungs, leaving you breathless, scrambling for some sense of sanity.

“Strauss suggested—” He pauses and corrects himself, “Well, Strauss requested an evaluation of you after your first week on the job and I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Right now?” You question him and he gives a slight nod in response.

“I know you’ve been through a lot and Strauss wants to make sure you’re really ready for this job.”

“I am. I was gone for a year. I don’t need more time off. I need to get back to work and back to feeling useful.” You answer decisively. It’s that simple. He has your psych evaluations and your therapists notes. So does Strauss. What more do they want from you?

You can tell he takes note of your exact word choice, eyes narrowing as you say ‘useful.’He jots something down on the pad in front of him, “You’ve gotten great work done these past few days. You’re an excellent agent and you have a real skill for profiling.”

“Thank you, Sir,” You play off the compliment, but truthfully, it terrifies you how much you feel joy coursing through you at the praise. His approval still means everything you. You can’t and won’t be dependent upon him. “The rest of the team definitely has a lot more experience though.”

“Is that why you ask Reid questions that you know the answer to? Or ask Morgan to look over your work even though you’ve already checked it over twice and know that it’s perfect?” You meet his gaze reluctantly and this time there is a small upturn to his lips at the corners.

You’re rendered speechless temporarily. Fair enough. Just as much as you’ve been profiling and analyzing him, he;’s been observant. He’s paying attention to your behavior. That is his job after all. “Excuse me?”

“You want everyone here to like you. You want to prove yourself to everyone, to me. You don’t need to do that.” The look in his eyes makes your heart pound aggressively against your ribcage so wildly that you’re convinced he can see your chest moving with each thud. He’s saying he’s noticed the signs of sleep deprivation. That’s what the coffee was about. That’s why he’s called you in for this evaluation. “I think you’ve been through something traumatic. Now, I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through, I understand that the details of your removal from your original post have been made confidential but I think this job takes a lot from you.” He scoffs a little and shakes his head, “No actually, this job will take everything from you. It’ll eat you alive, but you need to find a way not to let it.”

You’re sure that the state of both of you is enough to scare off anyone from wanting to join the BAU. Both of you are poster children for sleep deprivation. You’re working yourself overtime to prove yourself to the team while distracting your mind from the past. And Hotch? It’s clear he works himself overtime to make up for something. You haven’t quite figured out what yet, but he’s trying to make up for a past mistake. He’s trying to be the best that he can in his position. What did the job take from him that’s left him a shell of himself?

“Is there a question in there, sir?” You try to play off the instinct to snap at him.

“Do you have someone to talk to?” There’s that confusing look on his face again. The one that makes you feel like you’re being pitied, “You don’t have to talk to me, I mean, of course, you can talk to me, but you need to talk to someone. Do you have someone?”

You nod, “I can always call my therapist if I need her. And if I need someone, I’ll find someone. No need to worry, Sir.”

“Hotch,” He corrects. Your answer doesn’t satisfy him. “I’ve seen a pattern before, with agents that come back from trauma. They’re desperate for acceptance and approval, yet they have trouble trusting their coworkers. This team can’t function without trust. So do you?”

“Do I what?” You’re clenching your toes in your shoes, in order to hide the anger that the question fuels inside you. With every question, this feels more like an interrogation.

“Trust your fellow agents? Trust this team? Trust me?” He waves his hand around like it’s the simplest question he could ask you as if he hasn’t given you a million different reasons to be distrustful.

“I think trust is a fickle thing. Easy to lose, nearly impossible to gain back when lost. In addition, it takes time to build trust.” Your hands fidget a little at your sides and his eyes dart down to notice the behavior. “I don’t expect any of the other agents to trust me right away but I don’t plan on giving them any reason not to. I hope they’re just as understanding with me as I am with them.”

With the two of you, it’s never been about what is said, but always what goes unsaid, and this conversation, so much seems to be going unsaid.

“This team only works because we value cooperation and we respect one another,” He nods and looks back at the form in front of him, “I’ll be sure to tell Strauss how well you’re fitting in.” As he continues to talk, you gather up your things. “I’m impressed by how much you’ve accomplished these past few years in the bureau.”

“Thank you, Sir.” There’s so much more you want to say to him. There’s so much you want to ask. You want to yell and scream and curse him out, but you also want to throw it all in his face. How much you achieved without his help. You’re almost out the door but you can’t seem to bite your tongue any longer. When you look back at him, he’s standing, collecting his things, “How are you so… so okay?”

“I’m sorry?” His brows furrow into confusion.

“I can’t breathe around you. I can’t think straight. I can’t get my work done,” You let out, your voice tired and weak as you let the truth out, “I go home and I can’t get you off my mind. How are you just so professional and composed as if I’m just like any other employee? Did I really mean so little to you? Did I delude myself that much?”

Hotch pauses and clears his throat. He closes himself off to you by looking at his work, as if the answer he’s looking for is in one of those files, “That was… was a long time ago and I think it’s just best we focus on our responsibilities here as agents, rather than indulge the past.”

“Unbelievable,” You scoff, “It’s sad that you haven’t changed. You are still so opposed to letting yourself feel anything. I can barely get up each morning and bring myself into work to face you, but glad to know you’re doing great.” You wait a moment to see if he has anything to say, but he keeps that stern emotionless veil over his face. “Good night, Sir.” Just like a week ago, you’re almost out the door. Almost free.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you,” Hotch calls out. You freeze.

“Bullshit,” You breathe out clenching your fists at your side, trying to take another step away from him.

“You were important to me. I cared about you.” He hesitates, like he’s weighing his next words, choosing them carefully, “You’re still important to me. I still care about you, now that you’re a member of the team.”

“Bull. Shit.” You grit out, take a few steps closer, forgetting how much taller he is than you, but you’re determined to stand your ground. “How many were there?”

“Excuse me?”

“How many other girls? How many before me?” You shake your head. You’re not sure that you even want the answer. It’s a question that’s stuck with you ever since that day outside of his office so many years ago. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even bother saving you the heartbreak. He welcomed that girl into his office the same way he did to you without thinking twice.

“I–” He’s at a loss for words, pushing his focus down to the papers on his desk, trailing a finger over the edge of the wood, actively avoiding the question.

“It’s not a difficult question, Hotch,” You’re firm with him. Despite his position of authority over you, as he was before, you’re no longer intimidated by the repercussions of speaking out. You have too much dirt on him. Too many things you could throw in his face at this point. He can’t fire you for speaking your mind. You know he won’t. He can’t threaten your career. If he fires you, he has to explain himself to Strauss. What is he going to say? He can’t explain your history together.

“I don’t remember,” He stumbles over his words, “Three... no four. Definitely four.”

You pause. There’s still one question that has weighed on your mind every day for the past eight years, “And after me?” It’s a question you definitely don’t want the answer to, knowing that in all honesty, the answer doesn’t really matter. It won’t change much. You’ve considered every answer to the question. Every alternative hurts. If he did sleep with that student after you, it solidifies your unimportance in his life. If he didn’t, why would he hurt you the way he did?

It’s a question Hotch clearly never thought you’d actually ask. He finally meets your eye contact, “None.”

You scoff, “You’re a liar.”

“I couldn’t... go through with it with anyone else. I just saw you everywhere in that office. Everywhere I looked. I couldn’t erase the traces of you.” He shakes his head, “And I wanted to go through with it.” That stings, “Because I wanted to forget you. Get you out of my mind and I couldn’t.”

You gnaw at your bottom lip, “Clearly you were able to move on pretty easily,” You gesture to the pictures of the blonde women and the little boy on the bookshelf behind him.

That’s when he completely shuts down. Any sense of humanity you were starting to see in him slowly slips away from you. He’s back to that stonewall of a unit chief. You’ve hit a nerve. “That is not a topic up for discussion.”

“How old is your son? Five? Six?” You cross your arms against your chest, “Don’t act like I was important to you if it was that easy for you to move on. It’s funny, you seem to have everyone around here fooled into thinking you’re some morally just, decent man. I wonder if she knows the truth about you.”

Now you’ve really hit a nerve. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing about, Agent.” He gathers up the papers on his desk, shoving them into a file. “You’re dismissed. Evaluation is over.”

“Good night,” You pause, “Sir.” you snatch up your bag from the floor. Was that even a real evaluation? Or just an excuse to force you to finally sit down and talk to him? He was prying for personal answers. Do you have someone? Do you? Trust me? What he really meant was, Are you seeing someone? Are you still mad at me? Do you hate me? You made sure he didn’t get those answers. The answers being no and you don’t know. You feel like you don’t even know him. He barely even looks like the man you found yourself hopelessly falling for.

You text Reid that you’re just too tired to meet the team for drinks. Calling a car to take you to the train station.

Hotch has somehow managed to become a completely different person, yet still maintains some similarities to the person he was before. You still think of the same words to describe him, but for entirely different reasons.

He’s firm and stern. Now, in this position, he’s big on following protocol. Following the rules is what has to be done. Following rules and respecting the chain of authority is essential to keeping everyone safe. Before, he didn’t care about rules, but he had high standards of performance.

He’s cold. Before, he was cold to distance you from him. Now he’s cold as if letting someone in might break him. Like you might warm him from the inside out and he might not be able to withstand the heat. Letting someone in might lead to a complete meltdown.

Despite the icy exterior he puts on, you see small glimpses of warmth and care. Care for his team, especially. He’s patient with Garcia. He indulges her quirks. He’s firm with Reid because if not he gets sidetracked pretty quickly. But he’s also gentle with him. He doesn’t cut him off or guide him back on track in a rude manner. He knows when the job is overwhelming for JJ. She fields so many cases, being forced to decide which people most need the help. Every single day this week, you’ve seen them both hunched over his desk pouring over yet another armful of files. He reassures her that they’ve made the right decisions.

So you don’t know if you hate him. You don’t know him. That’s the problem.

By the time you get to your apartment, both the mental and physical exhaustion have finally caught up to you. You open your mailbox, pulling out the mail that’s been accumulating over the past few days. You sort through it quickly, most junk mail and bills. You get to the top of the stairs and unlock your door pushing through and you see a small envelope at the bottom of the handful. There’s no return address, just your name scrawled across the front in almost illegible handwriting.

You furrow your brows, dropping your bags by the door, kicking off your shoes, and walking into your kitchen as you tear at the envelope. As you do, a small square photograph falls out. You reach in for the other small slip of paper. Your heart sinks and you feel a sick sense growing in the pit of your stomach.

On the small paper, in the same scrawl as the front of the envelope: I’m still out there.

You bend down for the photograph that fell. It’s a picture of Hotch, his suit jacket blowing open slightly in the wind. He has his phone in his clutches, pressing it up to his ear. He’s got his briefcase under one arm and a tray of coffee in that hand. You look a little closer and notice the pattern on the tie he’s wearing in the photo… the photo was taken today. You flip over the photo, to see a second and final note.

This is between you and me. Break any of my rules, tell anyone about this, and he dies.

Chapter 14: II.III →

Tag list: @wanniiieeee @art-and-thoughts

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #wanna be yours fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x you #hotch x reader

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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years ago

Text

A Dance Of Thorns (c.h)

Where The Roses Bloom - Chapter 4

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: Welcome to the masquerade to celebrate Your Royal Highness engagement. How many surprises can one night hold?

Warnings: Angst, Drama and Smut. Language, mentions of alcohol and abuse. Some grammatical mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry!)

Word Count: 12.3 k

Author’s note: by far the longest chapter I’ve written but anything for the drama ✨ I would love to hear your thoughts on this 🥰 Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help me 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Series Materialist || prologue || chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter five || chapter six || chapter seven || epilogue

A month has gone by since the first time you saw King Luke Hemmings and you found out that you are supposed to marry him in less than a few weeks. And ever since that moment, you have invested every little free time you have into trying to stop that from happening.

You spent your afternoons sitting down at the library, reading book after book that might contain some kind of information to let you escape that awful deal. But every book you read said the same thing “A King’s promise may never be broken by law”

Still, that didn’t stop you.

Calum was also helping in every way he could. In the afternoons on his free days, he would go to the public library in town, searching for anything that could help your situation. He would spend hours reading about foreign laws that could give you at least some kind of leverage. He would ask around, hoping some kind of gossip might help you win something against your father, but until now all your tries gave little to no satisfaction.

At night, Calum would climb the castle’s walls to your window. It was the only way you could spend some time together and share hushed conversations since your father forbade you to go out without a proper companion.

He would lay with you in your bed, curled up together as he told you stories about faraway lands his father once told him, all in attempts to distract your mind from the reality you were facing every time the sun came out. He would kiss you goodnight as you fell asleep in his arms, letting the beat of his heart work as the symphony of your dreams. You would whisper “I love you’s” in the darkest of the room, letting them get lost in the stars as they shined down on you.

Every night you would go to sleep with Calum around your arms, but when the sun came up all traces of him disappeared with the moon. Well, everything but the white rose he left on your dresser along with the promise of keep fighting for you, no matter how long it took.

And with the sun it came the charade. You acted as the most obedient daughter you could ever think of. You attended your lessons, you didn’t speak out of place and obliged to every activity that surrounded the wedding, whether it was about flowers, food, decorations… things you couldn’t care less about since you were determined no to marry the King.

King Luke was not a bad person, on the contrary, he was one of the few people you could have a conversation with besides Sir Michael. Many afternoons they would accompany you in the library, never commenting about the books you chose to read as they sat in silence one in front of the other, immersed in their reading or their hushed conversations.

You learned to find a friend in Luke, someone that could have at least the same amount of trust you once had with your brother. He would make you laugh and he’d tell you everything you wanted to know about him, it was so easy and somewhat comforting to know that you were not as alone as you felt. But that did not mean that he had your full trust.

After Ashton took your father’s side in this dilemma, leaving you alone in a marriage you wanted no part of, you lost every ounce of trust you once held in your heart. And even though Ashton did try to make it better, to apologize for the way he treated you; you did not let him go near you. Every time you found yourself alone with him, you ignored his every move, and if you were in the company of others you didn’t even dignify him with a glance. You knew you might be a little harsh on him, and all of this hurt you as well, more than you would care to admit. But if your father learned about you and Calum… who else could’ve told him if not your brother?

Out of all the people who could betray you, you never expected Ashton to be one of them and you let him know that, no matter how much you needed your brother with you. If he declared your death with this marriage before you were sent away, then he’d be dead to you as well.

You were not going to give up, not even with the ceremony breathing on the back of your neck. There must be a way where you could break this engagement, something that could give you your freedom again.

The ceremony was scheduled one day before your twenty-first birthday, one day before you gained your independence as a royal as the law said it, one day before you could refuse the King’s requests with total liberty. Your father had planned this well, you must admit at least that. But if there was a way where you could delay the wedding… somehow make it past your birthday without getting married, then you would be able to get away.

But that task was more difficult than you have anticipated since your father was in charge of your schedule, everything was going smoothly and at perfect timing. There was nothing that you could do to delay the event.

“I need you to hold your breath for me, Your Highness”

For example right now, as the seamstresses adjusted the corset of your white dress to your body, your mind was reciting the laws again, trying to find some plothole that could be beneficial for you.

The grip you had in the chair tightened as they tied the corset on your back, helping you get into the skirt afterward. You didn’t say a word as the seamstresses chattered among them. You ignored the comments regarding your future marriage, or how beautiful your children will look if they look just like the King, or how lucky you were to be marrying into a rich kingdom.

“You will look beautiful on your wedding day, Your Highness,” The oldest lady said with a dreamy sigh “Your lover will not know what hit him”

“But my love will not be the one waiting at the end of the altar” You wanted to say, to scream at them for keeping up with the lie. You didn’t love Luke, you could never love him the way you love Calum. But Calum was not your fiance, he was just a secret.

You kept the tears at bay as you let them work over your dress, not daring to breathe too loud so you wouldn’t call their attention. They didn’t know that you were dying in the middle of a sea of white fabric and soft silk.

“There,” The young lady exclaimed as she finished the last touch of your veil, placing it carefully on your head “Oh, Your Highness. You look like a dream”

A dream trapped in a nightmare indeed.

You observed your reflection in the nearest window. You didn’t look like a child anymore; no, in front of you was the reflection of a woman, of a bride about to be sent to the slaughter of her liberty. A clockwork tragedy waiting to happen.

The white contrasted with your skin and hair, making you glow with the candlelight. It made you look more mature, more like a royal than you ever felt before. It was a beautiful work, but none of this ever felt right.

“You look just like your mother” The words of the older lady took your breath away. The memory of your mother’s face was already fading in your mind, you remember she was beautiful, but you couldn’t make the color of her eyes or the sound of her voice anymore.

“She would be so proud of you, Your Highness”

Would she? Would she have wanted this for you? If she were here, would she care or would she take your father’s side? Oh, what would you give to listen to one last piece of advice from her. To feel her embrace one more time, for her to tell you that everything would be okay.

You haven’t really felt the absence of your mother hit you as hard as of now because maybe with your mother here you wouldn’t feel so scared.

“Oh, don’t cry, princess” You didn’t even notice the tears running down your face until the lady pointed out “This is a happy occasion! There needn’t be any tears”

Only if she knew…

You accepted the silk handkerchief and dried your tears without saying anything, letting them help you out of your wedding gown as you tried on another one.

This was a black dress with roses embroidered along with the skirt and neckline. It was lighter than the wedding dress but the fabric was more delicate. The somber aspect of the dress, along with its sophistication, made you think of it as a better choice for your wedding day.

“Your father was very kind to host a party to celebrate your engagement, Your Highness. This is a perfect dress for the occasion”

You knew by now that none of your father’s actions could be considered kind. He organized this masquerade ball for his own benefit.

The King of RoseWood invited representatives of all the neighboring kingdoms and alliances that Ashton helped build, to the castle for a magical night of dancing and fun. But you knew he just wanted to parade the match you and Luke made in front of the world.

He wanted to show power, the kind of which someone would look at him and say “This is a man that demands respect” When in reality all he did was abuse his power and intimidate the ones closest to him.

The masquerade served as a punishment rather than a delight. He would put you under the spotlight and expect you to smile while he knows you’re dying on the inside. He will parade you around the room with the story of a good and lovable daughter, the little Princess that’s living the dream of a magical life in the arms of the man you love all thanks to the father whom she loved with all her heart.

He knew that this was all bullshit, and he rejoiced in the fact that you hated every single minute of it.

“The dress is absolutely stunning, Your Highness” Continued the older lady “What a lovely idea you had when deciding to use one of your mother’s old gowns and make it new again”

You gave her a small smile. It was a lovely idea, but not for the reasons they might think. This dress represented much more than just your mother and your wish of having her close in a moment like this. It represented going against your father in ways that only he could understand; it represented your heritage, how you didn’t forget who truly loved you and taught you how to be strong; it represented the image of the rebellion you set upon yourself, a sign that screamed “I will not stop even if you try”

It represented you.

“There is only one detail missing…” The young lady walked over to the dresser only to grab something delicate in her hands before presenting it to you: The mask.

Soft and made out of silk and with golden broderies across the eyes, the mask hid half of your face perfectly. If not for the tiara you must wear on your head, nobody would’ve been able to recognize who you were.

How ironic was it that in the night where you should be the center of attention, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

The night was clear, all the stars and constellations were visible from where you were standing in front of your window. Your hands were touching the soft stones of the window frame as you tried to count your breaths.

You couldn’t help but look for him in the gardens, hoping you could see him waiting for you under your window, asking you to come to the tree where your meetings were held before everything went wrong. It’s only been a couple of days but you missed him, and with the way, he consumes all your thoughts it was almost impossible not to.

But he was not coming tonight, your father made sure that the help was not invited to the party since it was such an important event to make it “common”, so your meeting will have to wait until tomorrow.

Still, you imagined how it would be like if he were to attend the ball. You dreamt about his smile, how his eyes would shine once he spotted you standing there at the top of the stairs as he waited for you at the end of it. You wondered if he would like the dress and you wished you could show it to him.

You sighed as you imagined his hand taking yours, guiding you to the middle of the ballroom, and starting dancing with you as if nobody were watching. It’s been so long since your last dance with him and you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of his clumsy feet stepping over yours in an attempt to teach you how to dance for your first ball.

Calum was always like that, caring and selfless until he couldn’t give anymore. That is one of the many things why you loved him, why you would never stop loving him.

But now you were forced to pretend to love someone else in front of strangers and people who didn’t care about you enough to notice how much you were hurting. The glamour of the night might hide it, but you know that there was only one person who you would much rather spend the night with; the only person who would not be there tonight.

“Y/N?” A voice called from outside your room, waking up from your dreams as you heard them knocking softly on the door “Are you ready to go?”

You pushed yourself from the window with a deep sigh, grabbing the mask that was laying on top of the bed before walking towards the door and opening it with an emotionless expression.

There, Ashton was waiting for you, pacing the hall until he heard the wooden door open. His whole body froze as his lips parted for a second when he took your appearance.

“You-” He said, choking up a little bit as he shook his head for a moment, thinking he might’ve seen a ghost “You look just like her…”

You were not expecting that comment. You knew the dress would affect your father, but you didn’t imagine it would have that kind of effect on Ashton.

But now, as he stood in front of you with wide, watering eyes and the faintest hint of a smile, you realized that you might not be the only one who misses your mother.

Ashton knew her longer, he used to spend every single moment with her along with you when you were nothing more than a child. When she died, you didn’t quite grasp the concept of death, but Ashton was the one who took it way harder. But, as a prince, he was not allowed to break down as any other normal kid would do when they lose a parent who was dear to them. No, he had to maintain his image and at the same time took it upon himself to raise you as your mother would.

He was the only loving family you’ve ever known. But he was also the only person who had ever broken your heart.

You looked at him with a sense of pity and understanding.

“I wanted to feel her with me tonight” You told him, these being the first words you exchanged with Ashton in a long time.

You noticed this also affected him. His eyebrows raised slightly and he took one step towards you, still bargaining with your feelings towards him.

Ashton took your hand in his, covering it completely as he softly spoke.

“You are her spitting image, Y/N/N. She has always been with you and lived through you. Everything you do reminds me of her and I promise you she would be proud of the beautiful, brave woman you’ve become”

His words struck you more than they probably should have. Ashton was never the one who spoke freely about your mother, not since you stopped needing him as much. He always kept that part to himself unless you asked.

He thought so highly of your mother and now he was comparing her to you. For some reason, this served as no comfort, but rather it angered you. Not because you didn’t think your mother was a horrible person, but because you thought that maybe if they - your father and Ashton - loved you as much as they loved her, you wouldn’t have to be in this position.

“The only difference is that mother’s family did not sell her for marriage,” You said bitterly, pulling your hand from Ashton’s grip as you saw hurt flash through his eyes.

“Y/N-“

“She loved our father, Ashton” You cried “For some reason she loved him and she married for love. Why can’t you let me do the same? Why can’t you help me and let me be happy? Am I to be trapped forever in a loveless marriage just because of the greed of this kingdom's leaders? I don’t even know what alliances we are keeping! In what world is it fair that I have to sacrifice my spirit just to please your egos?”

“You know it’s not like that-“

“For you, maybe! But you know exactly what father is doing and why he is doing it and you are taking his side! Ashton, you are just as guilty as he is” Your truth was spilling out of your mouth with nothing but desperation.

You wanted your brother to know how you were feeling, how much you were willing to fight for your freedom. For weeks you’ve been holding these words out of pride and pettiness, but you cannot go a day longer without letting him know just how much this is affecting you.

“I can’t trust you, Ash, and I can’t pretend that we are going to be okay after all of this no matter what happens in the end. You broke my heart, and I don’t think you understand to what extent”

Ashton stood in front of you with his head low “You hate me”

“I’m disappointed” You admitted, knowing you will have a hard time trying to hate your brother.

“Y/N, I’m just trying to do what’s best for the kingdom. What’s best for you!” He excused “You will be safe in the Vail, you’ll be a Queen and I know King Luke will treat you right. You have to understand that this is hard for me, too. But I can’t be here to protect you-“

“Protect me?” You interrupted him “Protect me from what?” He stayed quiet “Ashton?”

“Your Highnesses?” A guard called from the end of the hall “The King awaits”

“Announcing Prince Ashton Irwin, Heir to the Throne of RoseWood, and Princess Y/N Irwin, Future Queen of the Vail”

Wilsburg’s voice ran across the ballroom accompanied with two stumps of his scepter, calling everyone’s attention as you and Ashton descended the staircase together, claiming your rightful titles as everyone’s heads turned around to see you.

You kept your head high with every step you gave. All eyes were on you but you were not able to recognize anyone as their faces were covered with masks of every form, color, texture, and shape.

When you reached the end of the staircase, you and Ashton walked together to the center of the room where your father was standing with a winning smile plastered on his face. You were never prone to violence, but the feeling of wanting to punch your father in the face and erase that smile grew every minute.

You stood in front of your father and his court and gave him a courtesy in sign of respect. Your father’s eyes met yours once you stood straight again, and you couldn’t deny the feeling of pride that overwhelmed you when you saw the pure disgust in them as he took a glance at what you were wearing, knowing that this time he couldn’t do anything about it.

“My children,” He said with fake tenderness as he opened his arms in welcome.

It was so easy for him to fool the people who surrounded him, making everyone believe he was a good, caring, and loving father. But you could see clearly through his mask, no matter how much he tried to hide it - this time literally as his masks covered most of his face - he will never look at you with an ounce of love.

��King Luke Hemmings from the Vail and his loyal advisor, Sir Michael Clifford from Chesthire” Wilsburg announced, saving you from your father’s stare as the attention shifted back to the staircase where Luke and Michael were.

They walked next to each other, his movements identical as they elegantly descended into the party. They were both wearing the shades of blue that represented their Kingdom, each of them with matching masks that made them look regal, undoubtedly showcasing their royal status and importance.

Luke spotted your little broken family in the middle of the room, smiling a little bit and nodding towards you as he and Michael approached you with ease while the guests made way for them.

“Your Majesty” Luke bowed to your father, but his attention did not linger on him as much because soon his eyes were on you.

You noticed how blue his eyes looked under the mask, his blond curls falling perfectly to his shoulders and making him look like an actual angel.

“Princess,” He said, bowing just enough to capture your hand in his and bringing it to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.

“Your Majesty,” You greeted him with courtesy, thankful that at least you’ll have some friendly faces in the crowd. “Sir Clifford. I must say you look very elegant today,”

You caught a glimpse of blush under the young guard’s mask, his green eyes sparkled at the compliment. His outfit was not as elegant as Luke’s, but his hair was pushed back in a short ponytail at the ends of his neck making him look like a prince.

“One can only try, Your Highness” He answered with a dashing smile “But, surely, no beauty compares to you, Princess. People should envy your exterior as well as your kind heart. My King is a lucky man” He said, looking back at Luke who was already smiling at him.

King Richard cleared his throat loudly, making the three of you turn your attention to him. His jaw was tight as he showed a smile to the other monarch.

“Now that the guest of honor has arrived,” Your father said with a loud, authority tone “Let the festivity begin!”

The small orchestra that worked under your father’s orders started to play lovely symphonies the minute those words came out of their King’s mouth. The other guests soon resumed their previous chatter and quickly got lost in the celebratory atmosphere, some grabbing drinks while others started dancing along with the soft melodies.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting with your fingers as you watched how your father called Ashton’s attention and took him aside for a talk. Your eyes roamed across the room, feeling out of place as you caught glimpses of people passing by, not knowing anyone as they proceeded to ignore you.

You thought about how this will be your life from now on. How you will end up alone in some party you don’t feel comfortable in just to please the aesthetics of how a royal should be. People will not be interested in you, only your title, and they will judge you, envy you, hate you, and take advantage of you for it. You will not be Y/N anymore, you won’t have the chance to. You will be a Queen and that’s all people will want to know as you will be pushed away into someone’s shadow.

“Not much of a social butterfly, I see” You heard Luke comment next to you, leaning over to your side so he could whisper in your ear.

You gave him a small smile, “I was never really fond of parties,” You admitted quietly “Which is ironic, given that I always wanted to attend these kinds of gathering when I was a child”

Luke laughed softly, “I believe that is because you don’t know how to properly have fun at a party” He chuckled once he saw your confused gaze “Michael, have you seen Lady Thompson today?”

Michael, who was standing in front of you, smiled as his gaze followed Luke’s “I cannot believe she came here after the scandal”

“The scandal?” You asked, trying to see whom they were talking about.

“Oh, yes. Haven’t you heard?” Luke asked casually “Her poodle caught a case of hair eating fleas, and once they left the poor dog bald, they went for the main of hair Lady Thompson used to brag about”

Yours parted your lips in shock, but Michael continued “Not only that, but I heard she’s telling everyone how her hair grew back in just a few hours by putting some kind of magical mud she found near the river end”

Finally, your gaze fell into the person they were discussing and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“That’s not Lady Thompson, her name is Lady Judith from the Mountains of Chaversty” Your eyes fell back on Luke and Michael, who were trying to suppress a laugh “You are mocking me…”

“Not at all, Princess,” Luke said with a chuckle “We are just teaching you how to have fun”

“When we were kids, we used to sneak into the palace’s parties and hide under tables watching people pass and creating narratives about their lives” Michael explained “We started with a simple sentence, and then we created the most outrageous stories from them. The one who could come up with the craziest storyline would win”

“And somehow, I always ended up losing,” Luke smiled as Michael shrugged.

“It’s not my fault that you lack creativity,”

You smiled fondly at their teasing banter. You were amazed at how titles were forgotten when they were just talking to one another, it seemed so simple to them to call each other by their name as if they were normal people. And seeing that, somehow, made you feel less alone.

They taught you how to play in between their anecdotes and inside jokes, but you didn’t feel left out as you remember Luke’s words about Michael and how much he means to him. It was their little thing, their little moment in time that they could share with none other than each other, and still were kind enough to share some of that with you.

You spend a few hours playing the game and laughing along with them as they found you a worthy opponent with how many crazy stories you could pull out of your mind in an instant. One of the rules was that you couldn’t tell real names nor real gossips about those people to keep their integrity and the innocence of the game, so all your thoughts and outraged comments were taken lightly with fun. You even won a couple of times.

From time to time, people came to congratulate you and Luke on your engagement. You were glad to know that they could never notice how uncomfortable you looked thanks to the mask, but you were one hundred percent sure that he and Michael noticed how your posture changed and how you tensed at the mention of the wedding. Luckily, they brushed it off and carried on like it was nothing.

Sometime later, Luke went to grab some drinks for you and him, leaving you alone with Michael who quickly started a conversation with you about sword fighting and training.

You were too immersed in the conversation that you didn’t notice a person standing behind you until they cleared their throat.

“Pardon me, Your Highness,” You heard someone say. The familiarity of that voice sent shivers down your body and made your throat dry the second you heard it.

You turned around in a fast movement that made the skirt of your dress appear like it was floating above the floor. Your breath got caught up in your chest as you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inhale and exhale your body made the moment your eyes met his.

There he was, hiding under a white mask that matched his white and gold suit that once belonged to his father. There he was, standing in front of you and hiding in plain sight as his brown eyes were set on yours, taking you in as he let out a sigh in amazement.

“Calum…” You wanted to call him by his name out loud, to jump into his arms as you let the tears that were gathering in your eyes fall free from the happiness you were feeling at that moment. The kind of happiness only he could bring with such ease; the kind of happiness that you longed to experience all your life as long as he was next to you.

But you couldn't say that, you couldn’t blow his cover like that. If they found out he sneaked into the party, they would surely put him in the dungeon for god knows how long. He took a lot of risks coming here, and one word from you might throw that all away.

Instead, Calum noticed your hesitant shock, so he smiled softly as he said.

“Will you give me the greatest honor and pleasure of sharing one dance with me, Your Highness?”

You wanted to answer immediately, but according to the protocols a woman always needs their partner's permission to dance with a stranger. But Luke was not your real partner and Calum was not a stranger. You could feel your heart wanting to jump out of your chest from how strongly it was beating, but you couldn't identify if it was beating out of excitement or fear.

You looked over to Michael who was already staring at you with a curious gaze. He could easily see the unsaid pleading inside your eyes as you fought with the need to take this stranger’s hands in yours. The green-eyed man looked over between the two of you and was able to connect the dots in an instant.

Then, he simply smiled understandingly as he said “Just another secret between us, Princess” Looking at you like the way he did the morning you eavesdropped on your father’s conversation with Luke.

You let out a breath of relief as you nodded, silently thanking him as you watched him walk away just a little bit to give you and Calum enough privacy.

When you turned back to Calum, he looked as relieved as you felt, kindly offering his hand to you.

“May I take this dance, my rose?”

“You may”

Calum took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as he softly guided you to the middle of the dance floor where several other couples were waiting for the next piece to start.

He placed a hand to your waist, stocking his fingers slowly over the fabric and bringing you closer to him as he held your hand with his other one. You blushed as you placed your free hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly to encourage him.

You both understood how recklessly dangerous this was; to be dancing in front of everyone as your fiance stood somewhere in the room, probably wondering where you were, and with your father and brother at such a close distance. But neither of you cared when your eyes met again through the masks.

You didn’t care about the risks as long as you were holding each other like this; when you finally felt free inside the cage.

A sweet melody filled the air, but you were too focused on Calum to even listen. You only realized the dance has started when you felt his fingers grace your waist tightly as he spun you around with delicacy, taking the lead as you followed his steps with care.

Memories of your first dance together flooded your mind and you couldn’t help but smile. You were only children back then, now it seems like another life.

“You learned how to dance…” You said fondly in a hushed tone, a blush covering your cheeks as you heard him softly chuckle at your comment.

“I had to. I didn’t want to embarrass myself the next time we’d dance”

“You knew there would’ve been the next time back then?”

“I always hoped I’d get to dance with you again after that night” He admitted, his eyes never leaving yours “You are the only one who I’d like to dance with all my life”

His feet moved carefully around your dress, following the other couples as they spun and changed places with their partners placing their hands together between their two bodies. A classical dance made for lovers, for one must never leave their partner’s eyes as they spin and turn just to fall back into their arms again.

It was slow at first, building its tempo as more instruments were added to the melody, making it enchanting, haunting as they took over the room with an admirable strength that only a feeling of utter power could describe as beautiful. It was supposed to represent passion and how it can dominate you, slowly and then all at once before you even realize it was there.

“You look absolutely beautiful, my rose,” He said once his hand was placed to your lower back, pulling you closer to him as you let your hand wander just inches from the back of his neck. “You always knew how to put flowers to shame, but tonight you look just as radiant as the moon itself”

“Calum…”

“Shh,” He whispered, “Let me tell you my truth while I still can, my love. For if this is one of the last times I shall see you, let me relish on how beautiful you are. Let me tell you all the compliments in the world and see me fall short since no compliment could ever be enough to capture just how enchanting you are”

You tugged on the hand that was holding yours.

“Why do I feel like you’re saying goodbye?”

“I’m not” Calum answered quickly “That’s the last thing I’ll ever do. But seeing you tonight just reminded me that I don’t tell you how much you mean to me. And I promise you that when we get out of this situation, I promise that I’ll tell you every day of my life”

“When,” You thought “Not if, but when. It’s just a matter of time”

To know that Calum hasn’t given up on you, on your love, meant the world to you. Most of the time you felt like you were battling alone as if no one was listening. But he was right there with you, even if you couldn’t see him or be with him all the time. He still hasn’t given up on you.

You felt it right there; the love. He was risking everything for you, to see you and be with you in the night where you’re supposed to celebrate your engagement. He broke every rule for a moment with you, knowing that you would do the same for him.

The music kept going, the crescendo was at its peak. Calum grabbed you with both his hands on your waist and picked you up as he turned around, placing you back on the ground to your initial position of one of your hands intertwined while the other rested on his shoulder and your lower back.

You giggled like children as he put you down, pretending the world didn’t exist as you swayed to the music. Tonight, you were a young couple enjoying their first dance together and loving every minute of it. Nothing else mattered.

You didn’t feel the stares of the guests or Ashton’s careful gaze as he tried to decipher who you were dancing with. You didn’t hear the whispers or notice how Luke hid his smile in his drink as he handed the other to Michael who looked at you in complicity. You didn’t see where your father has run off to, but you didn’t care.

You were in love. You were dancing with the love of your life; letting him guide your steps carefully as the crescendo started to go down and his grip on you tightened, not wanting to let go of this moment.

“I love you” Calum whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

You smiled like the sun “You are risking a lot by saying that here”

He shook his head “And I’ll risk even more if I have to. I cannot go a day without telling you I love you, my rose. Even if they throw me in the dungeon, I’ll find my way to you”

“Don’t say things like that,” You warned him as the melody started to fade “I’ll be damned if I lose you, Calum. This was reckless enough from both of our parts”

“And yet, you’re still dancing with me” He smiled as his movements started to slow down “My love for you is as reckless as it is endless, Y/N, and if I have to risk myself a thousand times; if I have to die a thousand times to love you freely then so be it. All of that will be worth it as long as you say it back”

You stare at him with tears in your eyes as the song reaches its end.

“I love you”

Calum stopped completely, letting go of his grip on your back but still holding your hand on his.

“And just like that, everything is worth it,” He said, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

You smiled at him, chuckling through the unshed tears as you pondered in disbelief at just how lucky you are to love him and be loved by him.

“I’ll see you soon,” He said with a bow of his head.

“Aren’t you going to stay?” You knew you sounded a little desperate, but he just got here and, even though it was a little selfish on your part, you wanted him here just a little bit longer if possible.

Calum smiled “Only with the promise of another dance, my rose”

You nodded gracefully as Calum bowed once again before you watched him disappear into the crowd.

Your smile was still evident in your face as you gathered yourself and started to back up into the crowd, maybe try to find Luke to keep appearances until Calum asks for another dance.

“What a promising young man. Isn’t he, Y/N?”

The blood in your veins froze when you heard your father’s voice from behind you. You stood still, hoping you misheard him or mistaken him for another person that was passing by.

“Say, do we know him by any chance?” King Richard said with a mocking interest that made you want to run away right in that instant to find Calum and ask him to hide somewhere.

Instead, you turned around, and as calmly as you could, you answered:

“I’m afraid not, father. He didn’t tell me his name before nor after our dance”

“Didn’t I tell you never to talk to strangers, little Princess?”

He stood in front of you with a wicked smirk, not really waiting for an answer as he puffed his chest, showcasing the Kingdom’s shiny emblem on his fancy attire.

Your father lived for the adoration and fear of his subjects; he relished in your fear towards him for many years now, watching with delight as you submit to him out of fear or hope for any kind of attention he could show you. He adored the power he had over you, on how easy it was just to mess with your life as you’d allowed him to. And now, as you looked into his eyes you could see the fun he was having watching you tremble under his gaze, fearing that he might’ve discovered you.

The King looked you up and down and smirked as he announced “I believe it’s time for a father and daughter dance!”

The people who were gathering around the two of you started clapping and cheering as your father looked at you with a pleased gaze. You watched as the couples who were getting ready for the next dance suddenly left and were now standing to the side, anxiously waiting for the Princess and the King to have a sentimental moment.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Ashton who was making his way to the center of the room, pushing people as he tried to get to you; on the opposite end of the room, Luke drifted his gaze between you and Michael with a hint of worry in his eyes. Calum was nowhere to be found as your eyes searched for him in the crowd and you couldn’t help but feel scared for him.

King Richard ran out of patience. He grabbed your hand in what seemed a delicate touch, but only you could feel how his nails dug in the skin of your hand, forcefully pulling you to the dancefloor.

You felt disgusted as his hand gripped your waist, snapping his fingers to the musicians with his other hand before gripping your wrist and holding it high.

When the music started, he moved you around the dancefloor in stiff circles; there was no delicacy, no softness in his touch as he dragged you at the rhythm of one of the sweetest melodies you’ve heard.

“That dress does not belong to you” Your father whispered in between a smile. A tone of warning lacing his every word.

You felt the buckle of your knees weakened your step, but you didn’t dare move your eyes from his.

Too long you’ve been under his domain, living in fear of his next move whenever you were left alone with him. The bruises healed but the scars remain as your memory recalled the moments where he would get so mad at you just for being there, how he hated you just for looking like her.

All the pain, self-doubt, hatred, and fear he put you through… all the times you let him win because you didn’t think it could ever become worse… it all came crashing down into a feeling of anger and resentment that only served to give you strength for your next words.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, father” You defied him with fake ignorance “This is my dress. My mother left it for me. Don’t you like it?”

King Richard locked his jaw, his eyes spitting fire as you held his stare without moving an inch as you danced through the room.

“I know what you’re doing, Y/N,” He said with a wicked smile “And you won’t win. You can’t”

He laughed maliciously as he saw the shocked look in your eyes.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to find out what you were doing in the library this past few weeks?”

Your heart stopped at the statement, feeling weak as he got you figured it out. But how? How could he know unless someone told him? Someone who knew what you were looking for…

The color drained from your face as you stuttered “I-I don’t know what-”

“Don’t play stupid, you insolent child” His grip on your wrist tightened, hurting you in front of everyone without raising any suspicion “I have eyes everywhere, ears in every wall of this goddamned castle and you think you can outsmart me by hiding in the library and looking through the books of laws? But you still haven’t found what you’re looking for, correct?” He asked, smiling as he saw how you frowned at the truth “And I’ll make sure you never will. My plans will not be ruined by a weak little girl”

“Plans?” You asked suddenly, realizing that he overshared something he might’ve not supposed to say “What are you-?” You started, before everything became clear, remembering Ashton’s words from a few hours prior “The wedding, the alliance… That’s all just a trick, isn’t it? You need something from them, from Luke…”

You smiled to yourself as you saw your father speechless for the first time.

“You need me,” You stated as a matter of factly “And you know that I won’t ever help you voluntarily, that’s why you are forcing everyone to do this. You know I can stop you, you know there is a way to stop all of this and you’re afraid…”

His fingers dug into your skin with force, leaving red marks that will become bruises, but you didn’t even flinch.

“You don’t want to play games with me, child” King Richard said, all niceties dropped from his face “I am the King!”

“And I’m not scared of you!” You smiled with sufficiency “Look around, father. You want to play? Let's do it. Hurt me in front of all these people, let them see how their monarch loves his daughter. You cannot hurt me here”

A sense of pride came over you as you finally stood up for yourself to your father. You finally saw a flash of fear pass by his eyes as he scanned the room and saw all the eyes on him.

“I will stop you”

But then, the King smiled like the devil.

“I’d like to see you try. Stop the music!” He suddenly yelled, making all the guests flinch at the sound of his voice.

Your movements came to a stop, but the grip he had on your hand just became tighter and tighter, crushing your bones as you tried to get rid of his touch.

“My daughter, Princess Y/N, just had the most wonderful idea!” He announced to the crowd as you looked at him in shock while he smiled “She told me she cannot wait to be married, just like any other lady” He joked, making the guest laugh at you.

Your father cupped your face by the chin, applying pressure on it so you wouldn’t be able to say a word as he exclaimed:

“And who am I to deny anything to my beautiful, beautiful little princess? The wedding ceremony will take place in two days! And you are all more than invited!”

The crowd cheered and clapped as you felt sick to your stomach. Two days?! How are you going to stop everything in only two days?

You released yourself from your father’s grip, tears clouding your eyes as you saw the winning smirk on his face.

“I warned you not to play games, little rose”

You stood in horror as you watched your father disappear into the crowd, accepting congratulations on your behalf and laughing with the other guest at your “eagerness” of getting married already.

“Y/N?” You heard Ashton said and he placed a hand on your shoulder “Are you-?”

You felt your breathing start to pick up, short and fast exhales came with almost no intake of air to your lungs. You were getting dizzy, disoriented as you analyzed the situation.

It was so fast… too fast. It all happened too fast.

“Y/N-” Ashton tried again, but you shook yourself from his touch.

“For fuck’s sake leave me alone!” You half-whispered, half yelled as you picked up your skirt and ran away from the ballroom.

The sound of your heels clicking on the floor was drowned by the sound of your breathless sobbing as you desperately looked for a way out of the castle.

You couldn’t stay here anymore. You needed to find Calum, see if he’s okay, and just leave. But with every step you took your worry grew stronger as thoughts of Calum hurt flashed through your head.

“Rose,” He said. Your father called you rose. He knew. He knew! And you couldn’t find Calum.

“Y/N!” A voice called from behind you, the sound of their heels coming closer as you tried to get away from there “Y/N, wait!”

You were almost at the door leading to the gardens, just a few steps from freedom when you felt a hand grip your arm, making you stop.

Luke stood there in front of you, almost breathless as his eyes filled with worry when he saw your tear-filled eyes and your trembling lip trying its hardest to suppress a cry.

Without thinking it twice, the young King pulled you into a hug. You were shocked at first but eventually, you relaxed in his arms as he let you cry onto his chest, hearing muffled apologies in between sobs.

“It’s okay,” He said softly, looking to his side to find Michael catching up with them at a distance “It’s okay”

“No!” You cried “No, it’s not! Luke I-” You stopped as the words of your father filled your brain “I have eyes everywhere, ears in every wall…”

You grabbed onto Luke’s hand and guided him outside the palace, looking over your shoulder in case someone tried to approach you.

“Tell Michael to stay at the entrance,” You told him.

Luke nodded as he signaled Michael to stay where he was, letting you take him away to the entrance of the woods where you were somewhat hidden from the palace while still being able to see it from where you were standing.

“What is going on?” Luke asked calmly “Why are we hiding? Why did you tell your father you wanted to marry this soon? I-”

“I didn’t do it! You have to believe me in this, Luke. Please” You begged “He is trying to hurt me, to hurt you! I didn’t want any of this to happen, please believe me that I had no idea that would happen”

Luke sighed, placing both his hands on your shoulders to try and calm you down “I believe you”

“You do?”

He nodded with a soft smile.

“Yeah, this is the first time I heard you say my name so I know this is serious,” Luke said “Why is he trying to hurt you?”

You didn’t answer, how could you? You trusted Luke, but did you trust him enough? How in the world would you tell your fiance that you are in love with someone else and that your father wants to punish you for it, that this whole charade of lies was created for dangerous means, and that he might also be in danger?

After a while, Luke asked softly:

“Is it because you love another, don’t you?” You froze, eyes filled with fear as you looked at him “It’s hard to pretend not to love someone when you’re close to them. I could see it while you were dancing with him, because it was him, wasn’t it? The man who owns your heart?”

You lowered your head, eyes filling with tears as you whispered “Luke-”

“It’s okay, love” He reassured, caressing your face and cupping your cheeks so you would look at him “I knew from the start that you belonged to another, and tonight I recognized that look, that complicit smile you only find in those whose life complete yours in a way where you didn’t think it was possible. I have never seen you as happy as you were dancing with him. You truly love him, do you?”

“More than anything” You answered without a doubt.

“And he surely loves you. It was more than obvious from the way he couldn’t stop looking at you throughout the dance. He’s a lucky man, and he knows how to give himself entirely to you. I don’t think I have ever seen a man so in love before”

“You sure know a lot about love, Luke,” You said surprising him “You know just as much as a man who is or has been in love before”

He chuckled lightly “That’s because you’re not the only one with a heart owned by another, Princess”

Luke averted his gaze back to the castle, a nostalgic cloud covering his baby blue eyes.

“Is your love waiting for you at home?” You asked softly, not wanting to intrude.

He chuckled softly before his expression changed from dreamy, to worry, to sad, you pretended you didn’t notice how his eyes became glossy from the tears.

“He’s the only home I’ve ever known…”

Then, you understood. Luke was not looking at the castle; he was looking at the person guarding the entrance, commanded by his King.

Your heart filled with an indescribable joy as you took your hand and placed it on Luke’s cheek, softly wiping a tear that started to roll down.

“I guess we are both stuck in this, huh?” He laughed, looking at you in the way only a strong bond could describe.

“But you don’t have to be,” He said, “Your love, do you know where he is?”

You started to shake your head, but then you remembered something.

“I think I might have an idea”

“Go to him.” Luke encouraged, kissing your knuckles before letting go of your hand “Michael and I will cover this entrance, I’ll tell everyone who asks that we were together talking and walking through the gardens the whole night so no one gets suspicious”

You could almost cry of relief at his words. You jumped into his arms and placed a kiss on his cheek while muttering a small “Thank you” before you started running through the woods, knowing exactly where to go and hoping that he’ll be there.

“Calum!” You sighed with relief, finally feeling like you could breathe when you saw him in front of your tree.

You took your chances coming here, not knowing if he was going to be waiting here or if he was somehow captured by your father's orders.

On your way to your secret place, your heart could not stop racing, the countless tragic possibilities flooded your mind as you ran through the woods, not caring if some parts of your dress got ripped because of your careless moving.

But there he was, sitting in one of the roots that were visible from the surface. He was not wearing his mask as he fiddled with it between his fingers until the moment he saw you.

“Y/N!” He breathed, getting up from his improvised seat and running towards you, involving you in a tight embrace. Only then, wrapped in your arms you understood Luke’s words.

Only there you felt truly at home.

“I thought something happened to you” You cried into his chest as you felt his hand soothe you while caressing your back “My father…”

“I know,” He said, placing a small kiss on the top of your head “When he announced the ceremony I could see a couple of guards coming my way, I had no choice but run”

Your whole body shook in terror when he said that. Now you knew your father was planning on hurting Calum now that he knew who he was. Unless he’d always known…

“Hey, hey, hey,” He said when he felt you cry again “It’s okay, my love. I got away, didn’t I?”

“Now, but you know what he’s capable of doing, Cal. You saw what he did at the party! He moved the wedding closer because he knew we’ve been searching for ways to stop it. He knows who you are and if anything- if anything happens to you, I-”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, okay?” Calum stated, pulling you away from him just enough so he could see your face and cup your cheeks with his hands “I will not let anything happen to me or you, I promise. I will be there for you, Y/N, always”

You nodded but still felt a cloud of darkness surrounding you. You trusted Calum more than anyone, but this might be the first promise that he might not fulfill. Your father is a powerful man that reigned by inflicting fear into his people and respect by his equals basing himself with lies.

If he could turn your world upside down with just a couple of words… what would he do to Calum?

“How did you know I was here?” Calum asked, trying to lighten the mood when he noticed you spacing out in sorrow.

You chuckled, lowering your gaze to the floor “I had a hunch”

“Were you followed?”

“No, Luke and Michael stayed to watch the entrance and the surroundings” Calum looked at you puzzled “We can trust them, it’s okay. Luke doesn’t want to marry me either”

“What a fool-”

“He doesn’t want to marry me because, like me, he is in love with someone else,” You said with a smile that quickly disappeared with your next thought “And now we’ll both be trapped in a marriage where we’ll be forced to be away from the ones we truly love”

“Then don’t marry him,” Calum said in a breath.

You rolled your eyes “Is not that easy, Calum. You know that-”

“That a King’s promise may never be broken. But what if the King promised something that can’t be possible?”

His tone was questioning, almost as if he wasn’t sure of what he was saying either and he was just thinking at the top of his head.

“Love, what are you-?”

“What if you couldn’t marry the King because you’re already married?” He asked, more certain this time.

You were about to answer him with another question, trying to understand what he was trying to say. But he continued, trying to explain himself better.

“You know the law commands that no one should remarry while still being married to another partner. What if- what if we get married first? That way-”

“That way the King’s promise will be null” You finished for him “Because the bride he promised is a married woman who cannot go over the law… Calum, that’s genius but how-?”

“I thought about it for a while when I came over the statement that ruled that no law should cancel another”

You looked at him confused, but with a smile showing on your face “And you’re telling me this now?”

He looked nervous.

“I-I didn’t want to put that pressure on you. It is a huge risk, not to mention a lot of responsibility as well, and I didn’t want to pressure you into marrying me if you weren’t sure you wanted that. I thought we could find another way out before the ceremony, so I kept it a secret for some time. I admit I was afraid of how you might react”

You answered him with a tearful chuckle as you jumped into his arms and crashed your lips to his as you caught him by surprise.

It was impossible to deny the happiness you felt as he responded to the kiss as eagerly as you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“If you thought for a second that I would ever say no to that, then you might not know who you’re asking for her hand in marriage,” You said, smiling against his lips, chasing them into another kiss as a complete feeling of euphoria came over you.

Calum smiled, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs and picking you up as he spun you around, laughing along with you as your giggles could be heard from all around the woods, for you just made him the happiest man on earth.

“If we are going to do this,” He said as he put you down “Let me do this properly”

You felt your eyes filled with happy tears as you watched Calum get down on one knee in front of you. Smiling at you with bright brown eyes that shined like the stars from Orion above.

“Y/N,” He started “My love, my rose. God knows this is not the way I planned this; in my dreams we are sailing away to a new land, traveling the world as we share our dreams and make them come true before our eyes. In my dreams I had a ring to give you, a pretty speech prepared, and a thousand lights to illuminate the way you looked, bringing the start to shame.

But I have no ring, and the words that are coming out of my mouth come straight from my heart. But the moon does shine on you, my love and you’ve never looked so beautiful as you do.

I cannot offer much. I’m no royal nor do I own stacks of land that could be ever worthy of you, my love. I cannot offer you a house, I cannot offer you fancy dresses or expensive jewelry, I cannot give you the kind of life royalty deserves. But I can give you all my love as we made the world our home. Because all I need, Y/N, to live a happy life is for you to be by my side if you let me.

I knew I wanted to marry you since the moment I saw you standing in that pile of dirt when we were nothing more than children venturing in a world filled with adult problems. I knew I loved you then, even before I knew what love is. And, if you let me, it would be my honor to love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me, my rose?”

You tearfully nodded, covering your mouth with your hands as you tried to prevent a sob from getting out.

“Yes,” You said softly before repeating it loudly “Yes!”

In an instant, you threw yourself into Calum’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he held you by your waist, helping you straddle his lap, one leg at each side of his hips, as he pushed your skirt to the sides so you’d be closer and more comfortable.

You wasted no time in pressing your lips against his, letting your hands play with his hair as he rocked your bodies together, deepening the kiss as far as you’d let him.

A little moan escaped your mouth when you felt his tongue press against your bottom lip. Calum took this opportunity to capture every sound you made as you granted him more access, parting your lips slightly and letting him explore more of you as you got drunk with his touch.

“Say it again” He begged, his lips now leaving kisses along your jaw as your fingers tangled and tugged on his hair, making him groan against your skin.

“Yes,” You whispered breathlessly.

You felt your skin on fire every time his lips trailed along your jaw and neck, kissing it gently as you melted against him. It wasn’t something new, you’ve kissed like this before and stopped before it turned into something else, but there was something about tonight.

You didn’t know if it was the proposal, the adrenaline, or the simple need of being together now more than ever since your future is still uncertain. But every single kiss, every sound, every move… it just made you crave it even more.

“Calum…” You breathed, tugging his hair to bring him even closer to you.

He muffled a groan into your neck, letting the smell of your perfume intoxicate him as you moved your hips closer to him, “Love, don’t do that” He whispered, almost begging you to stop as he knocked his forehead with yours “You know that if this goes any further, I might not be able to stop”

You’ve been intimate before, only not like this. It wasn’t uncommon for you to lay next to each other, whether it was on our bed or in the clear spot next to the tree. You would explore your bodies with soft touches and lingering kisses that always felt like the start of something but that never lead to anything other than whispered confessions and soft makeout sessions.

The need was always there, you both felt it before, but this time you had no intention of stopping.

“Then don’t,” You said softly, looking into Calum’s eyes as he raised his eyebrows in shock.

“Y/N…”

“Don’t stop, Calum, please” You whined, moving your hips again to gain some kind of friction between the layers of fabric as you felt how his cock hardened in his pants “I want it. I want you”

Calum stopped your movements altogether, holding your hips with one hand as the other one cupped one side of your face, making you look at him when he asked.

“Y/N, are you sure about this?” His breath was heavy, but his eyes were determined as he gazed into yours “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not one hundred percent-”

You placed your fingers on the top of his lips to silence him.

“I was yours since the day we met.” You whispered, a soft smile illuminating your face “I was yours the day I told you I love you. I was yours when we danced tonight and I’ll be yours forever for the rest of my life. Make me your wife, Calum. Be mine and make me yours again”

Something shifted in Calum’s eyes at the sound of your words as lust settled all over them. He wasted no time in pulling you closer to him, capturing your lips in a much more heated kiss.

It was entirely different from whatever you’ve experienced before with him. This kiss was sloppy, a mixture of tongues and teeth as he bit your bottom lip. The sounds that came from both of you died in your throats as you desperately acted upon your desires.

You pulled apart for one minute as you took the top part of your dress, throwing it god knows where as you tried to untie the knots of your corset. Calum took it upon himself to start kissing your neck again, this time with more freedom to roam across your collarbone. “Let me,” He said softly after a while, letting his hands take over yours as they started to undo the knots one by one.

Once you were free, you felt Calum’s hands cup your breasts, massaging them as you moaned softly, still moving your hips with a more steady and fast rhythm against his groin looking for some sort of release.

“Y/N,” Calum moaned, taking his hands off your breast down to your hips, halting your movements once again “Lay down for me, my love” He whispered, kissing your earlobe as you felt goosebumps all over your body.

Calum took off his suit jacket, laying it on the floor so you’d be more comfortable. You sat back on your elbows as you watched him take off his shirt, leaving him with his chest exposed to you.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him shirtless on top of you. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but the context is different now that you can admire his well-defined abs under the moonlight. You couldn’t resist letting your fingers caress his chest with barely-there touches over his muscles and nipples, making him let out a breathy moan as soon as you did.

But before you could go any further, he grabbed you softly by the wrist.

“Not yet, Princess,” He said, lust laced in every word as he let your hand go to start working on getting you out of that skirt and underwear.

He worked quickly, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You felt his eyes on you and your first instinct was to cover yourself even though shame was the last thing in your mind right now. Despite that initial response, you felt safe with him, the safest you felt in years.

Calum smirked playfully, shaking his head as he grabbed both your hands in his and pinning them over your head “Don’t hide from me, my love” He said, lips hovering over yours but never touching them as he started kissing the spot under your ear, leaving you breathless in a second.

You closed your eyes and let yourself drift in pleasure as you felt Calum’s lips trail down to your breasts, kissing each one of them softly around the pebbled nipples, sucking and biting them as you felt your arousal grow with every new sensation.

Once he felt satisfied with the way you were moaning, he started kissing along your chest and down to your stomach, leaving a trail of fiery kisses until he stopped before reaching your core.

Calum let go of your hands which immediately flew to his hair when he started kissing the inside of your thighs, getting closer but not close enough to where you needed him most.

“Calum,” You moaned, feeling his breath over your entrance.

“Say it again,” He asked, kissing your right leg as his hands wandered over to your ass, lifting you up slightly and bringing you closer to him “Say yes, again”

“Yes.” You said in one breath.

“Again” He demanded softly, kissing you over your mound.

“Yes.”

“Again”

“Yes, oh...”

No sounds came out of your mouth as he placed his lips over your clit, kissing it softly at first before starting to lightly suck on it. You then felt him lick a long stripe up your center, making you shiver each time as he always ended up at your clit, gathering your arousal in his tongue and moaning at the taste, sending glorious vibrations up to your core. He smiles when he feels you tug on his hair with every breathy moaned you let out, letting him know that you were enjoying this as much as he was.

Soon, you felt his fingers trace along your folds up and down, stopping at your entrance a couple of times before he pushed the first finger inside, making you both moan at the feeling.

Then, a finger became two as Calum started to move them inside and out of your tight hole at a fast pace while his lips remained attached to your clit, licking and sucking over it until you reached your first climax of the night.

Calum licked you through your orgasm, lapping on your arousal until he heard you whine thanks to the oversensitivity. Then, he pulled himself up, kissing a trail from your stomach to your lips.

You were seeing stars behind your eyelids as you tasted yourself on his tongue, moaning as you felt his hard, clothed cock brush over your sensitive core.

“Calum,” You whimpered as he pulled away from his lips to let his head fall to your side, kissing your neck with zeal.

“Tell me what you want, my love” He whispered in your ear, making your whole body shiver under him as he kissed your cheeks tenderly “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you the world”

“You, only you”

He smiled, prompting himself onto his elbows to kiss your lips again.

“I’m yours”

It took no time for Calum to get rid of his pants and thrust into you, letting you adjust to the new feeling as he kissed the pain away while he started to thrust slowly into you. His hand cupped your face as he kissed you over and over again until you begged him to speed up the pace, letting the sting of pain become one of pleasure every time Calum moved his hips into you, hitting every spot with ease.

You became one big pile of tangled limbs and shared pleasure, moaning and groaning your feelings of ecstasy as you held each other as close as you could. One hand caressing your sides while you alternated between playing with his hair and dragging your fingers down his back, feeling every muscle work as you wrapped your legs around him, letting him deeper and deeper each time.

You got drunk with the sound of each other’s moans as you reached your climax. Calum swears he’s never heard a more beautiful sound than his name falling from your lips in total bliss as you clenched around his cock, making his thrusts slow down as he came with the taste of your name still on his lips.

"I love you," He said with a smile as wide as the sky, pulling you closer against his naked body "God, how I love you, my rose"

You kissed his lips softly, humming an "I love you" in between a content smile before saying:

"Calum?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Thank you for loving me"

You woke up sometime later, still wrapped around his arms as his jacket covered you both from the cold night. You let out a breath of relief as you realized that the moon was still high up in the sky, meaning that you still had a few hours before having to go back to the castle.

Calum slept peacefully next to you, holding you close as he let his chin rest above your head. You kissed his Adam's apple and softly giggled when he pulled you closer to his chest, you knew that you would always be safely wrapped around his arms and there was no other place you’d rather stay than with him.

It was almost incredible to believe that by tomorrow night you’d finally become husband and wife and that this will be your life forevermore.

No more castles, no more parties, no more dangers nor royalty duties. You will be together, finally be free.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ashley @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @lemonswizzle

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