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primitivejunketer · 4 years ago

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I Want To Tell You- A George Harrison FanFiction

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

Chapter 5- Amour Mon Cher Amour

Fic Summary: George and Rosemarie have been next door neighbors their entire lives. As they grow older, feelings grow stronger. Will they fall in love or fall apart? angst/fluff/slow burn

Chapter Summary: We introduce Paul, Rosemarie goes away on a trip and the unexpected happens upon her return...

Word Count: 2380

Rating: T

Warnings: explicit language/minor affection

Note from the author: Things are happening now!!! Get fired up and buckle in y’all, we’re going for a ride. Also I know the gif below is from Stranger Things, that’s just how cute and awkward I imagine baby Rose and George to be.

Listen while you read! xx

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October 22, 1954

George sat on the school bus staring out the window at the gloomy Speke weather. He lightly tapped his toes to the beat of Tennessee by Carl Perkins.

“Hi, is this seat taken?” George looked over at the voice towering above him. A tall, pale boy with round rosy cheeks was addressing him.

George shook his head silently.

“I’m Paul,” the boy put out his hand for George to shake.

“George.” He replied.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Paul asked.

“Yeh, I came from Dovedale. My brother came here so my parents made me.”

“Oh! What's his name? I might know ‘em.” Paul was jaunty. He had a baby face and was rather tall. He had a very warm presence but George was still new to the school and used to bullies from Dovedale, so he kept his guard up around Paul.

“Harold Harrison,” George sighed, annoyed.

“Oh, nah doesn’t sound familiar. But is that your last name? Harrison? That’s a good name. Mine’s McCartney.”

Paul did most of the talking the rest of the way to his stop. George replied with unenthusiastic “mhm”s.

The bus finally made it to Paul’s stop after what seemed like years. He shook George’s hand again before retreating from the bus.

“See you tomorrow, lad.” Paul waved.

George waved back, wide eyed.

Rose was waiting for George on his porch when he returned home. She was leaned back on the steps, reading a book.

“Good afternoon, Georgie! How was school?” She asked him in an annoying singsong voice.

“School wasn’t the bad part, the ride home was.” He groaned, sitting down next to her.

“What happened? Was someone being mean?” Rose became very concerned.

“Not at all, this bloke sat next to me and was chatting my ear off the whole way to his stop.”

“Awww George be nice he was trying to be friendly!” Rose swat his arm playfully.

“Maybe I don’t want any friends,” he scoffed.

Rose rolled her eyes and got up, “Come to my house, mum is making stew.” She put out her hand for him to help himself up. Unexpectedly, though, he didn’t let go.

The two held hands for the few block walk to Rose’s house. Before opening the door she awkwardly shook his hand away from hers and opened the door.

December 17, 1954

“She is taking FOREVER!” George complained, tugging his coat tighter around himself.

“Girls always take forever,” Paul laughed, roughing up George’s hair.

In the past months, George and Paul had become best friends in school. They rode the bus together every day after the first day they met. They even clung to each other during school. Paul was a year older and had access to the music room at the school and introduced George to a few of his new favorite artists.

Paul watched George, waiting for this mystery girl’s arrival outside of Trinity Catholic Girls school.

As per usual, Rosemarie’s parents followed the Harrison’s footsteps and decided Rose should go to private school for secondary school. She fought hard against the decision but eventually lost against her mother.

Rose HATED school. She hated her stupid black and white school shoes, and her stupid long forest green plaid skirt, and her stupid white button up shirt.

Suddenly, Paul watched as George’s face lit up. He began waving frantically. Paul’s eyes followed the direction George was looking and he was met for the first time by Rosemarie.

George gently wrapped his arm around her and turned to Paul.

“Paul, this is Rose, Rose this is Paul.” George laughed sort of awkwardly.

“Rosemarie Winthrop, charmed.” Rose smiled, putting her hand out for Paul to shake.

“Enchanté, Paul McCartney,” Paul, flashed a wink at George, bringing Rose’s hand up to his face to gently place a kiss upon.

“Alright! That’s enough friendliness for today!” George stood between the two of them, flashing a look at Paul that could kill.

The three began to walk back towards George’s house for dinner. Mrs. Harrison was having a dinner, celebrating that all of her children would be under one roof for the night. Harold and Louise we’re visiting.

“I’ve heard so much about you, Miss Rosemarie,” Paul mentioned as they walked together. George stayed in the middle so Paul and Rose had to speak over him. He walked with his head down, kicking chunks of snow as they went.

“I wish I could say the same about you, Paul. George rarely talks about anything but guitars anymore,” Rose laughed, nudging George slightly.

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” George returned a stifled laugh and motioned at Paul.

“I can’t help it, my dad’s a musician!” He had a warm and hearty laugh.

“Really?!” Rose was enthused, “what does he play?”

Paul went on to explain his father’s jazz background. At this point, the two were getting along all too well.

When the three arrived at George’s house, Rose went to greet Mrs. Harrison in the kitchen. Paul mindlessly followed, looking around pictures on the walls.

George cleared his throat from the top of the stairs.

“A word, Paul.” He spat.

Paul smiled, already knowing what he was in trouble for.

George pulled Paul into his room. “FLIRTING!” He whisper-shouted.

Paul had to hold back his laugh, “I’m sorry! She liked it,” he could barely speak between laughs.

“Of course she liked it! You were FLIRTING!”

Paul was amused at how upset George got, he had never seen him this way before.

“Look, I know you like her a lot. Relax, mate. She likes you too,” Paul placed his hand on George’s shoulder, reassuringly.

“What are you two talking about?” The door opened and Rose entered, making George jump.

“Nothing!” He answered all too quickly, making Paul laugh.

“That’s not suspicious…” Rose said, raising an eyebrow, “anyway, your mum sent me up here to tell you supper’s ready.”

January 18, 1955

Christmas came and went faster than anyone would have desired. George was heartbroken that he’d have to spend a month away from Rose.

The week after Christmas, Rosemarie and her mother took what her mother referred to as a “girls trip” to France. Mrs. Winthrop was born in France and had lots of family there. She was particularly keen on staying with her younger sister, Dominique.

The two sisters hadn’t seen one another since before Rosemarie was born.

Paul had to deal with George’s complaints for an entire week since he insisted distracting himself with Paul’s presence.

The two sat in a small cafe near Paul’s house, drinking hot chocolates.

“You’ve got to stop moping, mate. It’s not like she’s gone forever.” Paul consoled George.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been away from her this long in my life.” George groaned and looked out the window at the snowy scene before him.

“What is it about her that gets you this way?” Paul was genuinely intrigued. He had never really even seen George look at another girl the way he looks at Rose.

“I dunno. I’ve known her basically since we were born and just- I don’t know. She’s so-,” he stopped and his face scrunched up. He didn’t know how to answer Paul’s question.

“She’s just my person. She’s unlike anyone else.” That was the only way George could figure to put it into words.

Paul nodded knowingly. He wasn’t much older than George, but wise enough to know exactly what he meant.

February 2, 1955

“Bonjour! How was your trip?” George was at Rosemarie’s house not even an hour after she arrived home from the train station.

“I had an amazing time! My aunt Domonique is spectacular! She taught me how to speak some French while I was there!” The two sat in Rose’s bedroom with the record player on. She was playing all of the new music she got in France, showing George how lovely French music was.

She particularly liked Yves Montand and wanted to show George his record. She turned up the record player when Amour Mon Cher Amour came on and started to dance by herself. She slowly stepped to the guitar and swung around the room following the smooth lyrics.

George was frozen. Sitting on the edge of her bed he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Something about her was different since she had returned. Of course she was wearing the popular French fashion, much more stylized than any British girl he had seen in the last month. It even appeared that she had rouge on her lips. George had never seen her wear makeup before.

“Dance with me George” Rose smiled, putting out her hand for him to grab.

He stood, somewhat shakily, grabbing her hand and dancing around the small room awkwardly.

“What does it mean?” He asked with a smile, showing off his pointed canine teeth.

“Amour mon cher amour? Love, my dear, love,” Rose smiled and looked right into George’s brown eyes, causing his cheeks to redden.

He stared at her face while they danced, he noticed everything about her. The way her chocolate colored eyes sparkled in her dimly lit room, the faint tint of red in her dark hair, perfectly tucked into curls that rested just right on her shoulders, and then did the unspeakable.

He kissed her.

And she did the unspeakable.

She kissed him back.

It only lasted a couple seconds but it felt like an eternity.

Neither one of them knew what they were doing, there was a combination of George’s lips on Rose’s chin and teeth bumping into one another. But it didn’t matter.

They pulled away both blushing, slightly out of breath. They couldn’t say anything, the two just sat there smiling goofily and staring into each other’s eyes.

Then, footsteps were heard coming up the stairs, and before they could react, Mr. Winthrop was standing in the doorway.

His initial reaction to seeing his daughter just barely an inch away from George was sweet, he knew it was bound to happen eventually and was happy for them.

After a few seconds of everyone sitting frozen, George popped up, “Well, I best get going, told mum I was only going to be away for a few minutes.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Rose quickly stepped behind him, walking past her father who had long since forgot what he went to go tell them in the first place.

Rose followed George down the stairs and to the front porch where he had parked his bicycle.

“So-“ Rose started.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” George quickly interrupted. Rose nodded understandingly.

“See you tomorrow?” She asked, sheepishly biting her lip.

“Absolutely.” George hopped on his bike and leaned in once more, kissing her cheek.

George sped down the street on his bike howling at the air.

“Whoooooohooooo!” He giggled as his bike tires skid along the frosty pavement.

Rose watched George until he turned a corner, out of sight. She stared dreamily at nothing at all, in a daze.

She slowly turned back into her house, gently shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She let out an audible sigh.

“Did someone just get her first kiss?” Mrs. Winthrop was cheekily peeking from behind the kitchen door.

“Mum!” Rose shouted, embarrassed.

“He wasn’t being too bold, right? Kept his hands to himself?” Mr. Winthrop chimed in, peeking behind his wife.

“Dad! It’s bad enough you interrupted!” Rose’s face was full red at this point.

“Interrupted? It is my business who is kissing my eleven year old daughter in my house.” He retorted.

Rose groaned, “Dad, it’s just George!” She tried to shake off the subject but her own face wouldn’t even let her.

She couldn’t help the little smile that peeked up and the rosiness of her cheeks.

She ran up the stairs to her bedroom and locked the door behind her.

Before kicking off her shoes and lying down in her bed, she put the Yves Montand record on again.

She grabbed her pillow and held it close to her chest, closing her eyes. All she could see was George.

She had every single part of him memorized. The way his shaggy brown hair laid on his head, the lines he’d get on his cheeks when he smiled big. She let out a sigh, accompanied by a little smile.

There was a knock on the door. Rose opened it to welcome Mrs. Winthrop.

“Hi darling, I made you a cuppa.” She held out her gorgeous silver tray with two China tea cups on it.

Rose invited her mother to sit on her bed beside her.

“So,” Mrs. Winthrop started, Rose already knew where this was going to go, “how was it?”

“Mum!” Rose exclaimed, “I don’t think you’re supposed to ask me that.”

Mrs. Winthrop laughed, “well, I’ll be the first to tell you, my first kiss was not at all ideal.”

“How do you mean?” Rose asked, sipping her tea.

“I was about your age, and I went to a public school, boys and girls mixed, you know.” She began, “and I wasn’t friendly with the boys, I had my sister and cousins, no desire to play with anyone else. And one day, this boy came up to me, oh what was his name?” She paused for a moment, but Rose continued to listen intently. “I think it was Jacques O’Hare, yes he was French Irish, anyway, he walked up to me, grabbed me by the arms and kissed me right on the mouth. I was DISGUSTED.”

Rose burst into laughter. “Oh, mum I’m so sorry!” She tried to stifle her laughs but couldn’t help it.

“Don’t worry about me, dear, my point is, how are you?” She asked her daughter.

“Well,” Rose started, and then drifted off into thought. She had never felt this way before and didn’t know how to describe it. “I wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else.” She smiled, satisfied with this answer.

Mrs. Winthrop hugged Rose tightly, “so is he your boyfriend now?” She began to pry, with an eyebrow raised.

“Mum! No, he’s not my boyfriend. I don’t know what he is. I don’t want anything ruined,” Rose was solemn. She felt something unexplainable for George but didn’t want it to ruin what they already had.

#the beatles #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles fanfic #George Harrison #george harrison fanfic #George Harrison fan fiction #John Lennon #paul mccartney #paul mccartney fanfic #Ringo Starr #stu sutcliffe #pete best

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devnicolee · 5 years ago

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Snowfall (10)

A/N: I definitely did not expect it to take me this long to write it but I hope y’all enjoy it! And just for some context from the last chapters, all of the events in chapters 9 and 10 have taken place over the span of about 36 hours - that is important. Enjoy! :)

Word Count: 10,240

Warnings: Angst, violence, mentions of smut

Masterlist

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"Zarah..."

"Zarah. Talk to me, please. What happened in that cave?" M’Baku asked as she wiped the streaks of blood from her face. She scrubbed furiously, after having stripped her clothes off the moment she walked in. She did not want to look at his blood for a second longer than she had to. She ignored him as she had since they stepped in their room 5 minutes prior. There was nothing to say in her mind. Nothing worth saying, at least.

"You cannot ignore me forever Zarah. You need to talk to me."

She sighed. "I found him, I confronted him, I got the answers I needed. There is nothing else to say." She walked to her closet, pulling on the more formal dress needed for addressing the Jabari Council. She couldn’t see the frustration that painted her husband’s face but she could hear the scoff that accompanied it.

"When I walked in," M’Baku took a deep breath to calm his growing frustration at the cold shoulder he was getting from his wife. One that, like the winter weather of their home, seemed to get icier and icier by the second. "When I walked in, you were beating a man to death. That is hardly ‘nothing to talk about.’ I have never seen you like that… or like this. What did he say to you?" He grabbed her arm as she passed him, his grip not too tight or painful, just enough to let her know he demanded her full attention. Her mind quickly reverted back to being held up by her weight in a man’s death grip on her arm. She could feel it again, the bruises he left behind. She ripped her arm out of his grasp in a knee-jerk reaction.

"H-h-he did not say anything either of us do not already know. Now we have a job to do and I would like to do it without any further delay. You said we would talk later, later is when this is over."

"Davu I don’t care about. He is dying regardless of who gives the order. But your father? Are you prepared to ask someone to murder your own father?" M'Baku never pretended to care for Elder Amari. He gave the man basic respect, as is his duty toward an elder. But now that was gone after finding out about his attempt to overthrow him. M'Baku did not require everyone like him, he did not care at all really. He fostered an environment where everyone could voice their opinions whether they agreed with his or not. However, he did ask for loyalty, something he thought was a basic tenet of their community. He had not realized he was asking for too much.

Zarah stares at him for one second before shifting her eyes to the corner of their room, the intensity and vulnerability in his eyes became too much. She was not ready yet. Falling would be easy, admitting it was all too much and she was too far gone to make this choice would be easy. She knew if she answered no, if she admitted she was wholly unprepared to ask someone to do that then her husband would not hesitate to whisk her to bed, hold her and make the difficult decisions himself.

But that was exactly what she wanted to avoid. The woman who would make those choices needed to die, she could not live on here. And that would be a concession, that would be letting them win. This was her duty, her fight. No more cowering while others did the work. No more falling while on the job. They were banking on her falling. The threads would have to hold. They left her no choice.

"My father is old enough to understand the consequences of his choices. He signed his own execution sentence the moment he made a deal with the devil. Fulfilling that sentence is hardly murder. I will not cry over a fate he brought upon himself."

"And your mother? And if you do this, your relationship, however tumultuous it is, with her is over. She won't forgive this. Are you prepared to lose both your parents today?"

"That will be her choice, I can't do anything about that. But I will not spare my father because of her. He should have thought of her before he committed treason. And what do you care? You hate my parents. You should be happy instead of trying to convince me to let him go."

"I have no love for parents, that is true. The people, that emotionally abused you for most of your life. But this isn't the way. I do not care about saving his soul, I care about saving yours. You should remember that I have done what you are about to do, thrown men off that mountain. It takes a piece of you every time - regardless," he spoke louder as she tried to interrupt him, "Regardless of how righteous your reasoning is. I do not want you to have to do this." She turned away from him, away from his logical critique of her choices, to walk toward the door.

She paused as she brought her knuckles up to knock on the door and alert the guard that they were ready to depart. She took a deep breath before responding, "Do you know what Davu’s cave is?"

M’Baku’s face twisted up in confusion, "No, what do you mean?"

"It is a graveyard of souls… Davu’s, my father’s… mine. You won’t save mine by saving his. They are both gone. Gone the moment they took me from this room. We are not getting them back. This won't take anything from me because there is nothing left to take. I have to live with that, I have made peace with that."

She knocked on the door, Kide opening it so she could walk out. As she walked over the threshold, she called over her shoulder, "And so do you."

***

Nighttime in Jabariland was Zarah’s favorite time of day, particularly in the winter. The sun set early, leaving an inky black sky in its wake. The only sources of light were the fires burning brightly throughout the villages to keep everyone warm throughout the evening. Zarah usually loved standing on the high peaks with M’Baku to look out at the lights reaching out like veins in the darkness. But Dead Man’s Peak gave her no beautiful view of nighttime in the mountains. Despite being the highest peak in the tribe, it was rather boring. It was a simple cliff that overlooked nothing but forest on the northern edge of the Jabari territory. One could not even get a view of the villages from there. But she understood why. What they did there… what was lost there needed to be separate from the rest of their lives. There was no ceremony, nothing but a desire to get it over with and return to the comfort and light of the rest of Jabariland until duty called them back to this spot again.

Small fires raged around the cliff to provide some light in the darkness as the chief and chieftess waited with her brother and members of the guard for everyone to arrive.

"You do not have to do this Zarah. We can confront him another way." M’Baku said, giving her one last opportunity to stop this before it went too far. Her ominous statement before they left their quarters shattered his soul. He knew it was not true; his wife was still there buried beneath a mountain of trauma, buried beneath an incessant need to be what she thought everyone else wanted. Where she saw nothing, he saw her spark still in her eyes. It was duller, sure, but it was still there. He would gladly take dull over extinguished everyday of his life and he would happily spend all of those days trying to make it brighter. The woman before him now was merely a mask, one she put on to keep the broken version of herself out of view. Ironclad strength, an overcompensation for very natural emotions she perceived as weakness. But it did not matter if he knew it, if he believed her soul was still intact. She had to believe it and if she did, they would not be here.

Zarah raised her hand to silence her husband. Her decision was absolute, he nor anyone else would change it. "The sun will not set with a traitor in our midst," she repeated. "He will face the consequences of all traitors, the consequence for treason."

She could not see her husband's face, could not see the worry and trepidation filling it. He knew she was right, he simply wished she did not have to make this choice. It was not fair, it was not right. There was no love lost on M'Baku's part for the people whose bodies would, before the hour was done, fall off their execution cliff and live for eternity in the ancestral mountains. He just knew that this was it. His wife was hanging off a cliff of her own by a thread and their bodies would be the final weight that forces her tumbling down.

"Daughter, what is the meaning of this?" Elder Femi asked as the Royal Guards ushered the Council to the cliff their leaders stood on, all of them sporting similar faces of confusion. Zarah opted not to answer. They would understand soon enough as two guards dragged Davu's bruised and broken body behind them in chains. He was still fairly alert for someone who was almost beaten to death, his eyes trained on Zarah's as they walked toward the cliff.

She could not see him though, her eyes still focused on the horizon. Stillness and silence. She basked in it for a moment as the small crowd waited with anticipation for their chief or chieftess to speak.

"Hanuman be with your daughter," she whispered quietly, only loud enough for her stoic husband to hear her. She then straightened herself and turned to face her audience.

"I called you all here," she spoke loudly, voice strong, assured and powerful. "Because in the last month, we were reminded that the Jabari are not infallible. People have sought to shake and destroy the foundation of this tribe. And Hanuman demands we meet injustices against him and his people with justice. And that is what I have brought you all here today to witness.”

She took a deep breath, before motioning for the guards to bring Davu to her. They dropped the man at her feet, his body too weak to hold his own weight up.

M’Baku stared down at him, his contempt and rage at the broken man at their feet too great to hide. A small wave of pride passed through him at the physical damage his wife was able to do to this man. He had hoped to be the one to enact such suffering, the only thought occupying his mind for the last month was to find him and rip him limb from limb. The urge to do so now was almost overpowering, he still believed a toss off this cliff was too merciful for him. But he had to step out of the role of a chief for a moment and give his chieftess the authority she deserved. It was not his kill, was not his call and he had to accept that.

She stared down at him, eyes cold and hard. This was the easy part, the easy kill of the day. "You have been sentenced to death based on the charges of kidnapping, attempted murder and plotting to overthrow and murder the Chief of Jabariland. If you have any last words, now would be the time."

N’Danna strolled up to the group and lifted the man to his feet to offer his last words. He would not belabor this. As soon as those last words fell from his lips, his body would fall from this cliff. He refused to give him yet another opportunity to escape the will of Hanuman. Another day would not come to a close with his soul still occupying space on this Earth.

Now eye level with each other, Zarah saw it, his eyes still blazing with ambition and hope. She hated it, she despised it and wanted to stomp it out as he did her hope, her light. His life was on a timer, reduced to mere minutes and somehow he still felt like a champion in this scenario. Knowing he would die believing he beat her… that he destroyed her… it was not fair, it was not right that he got to march to the end of his life with that medal. It made her want to forgo the ceremony of it all and push him off the cliff herself. But she quickly stomped out the flames of rage. She did not have capacity for emotions, any of them. If she let her anger out, the rest would come flooding down quickly after. She simply reminded herself that pride was meaningless in the grave. It does not take one farther in the ancestral mountains or pump life back into your veins, there were no winners or losers there.

If it helps him rest with Hanuman, or preferably in hell, knowing that, then so be it.

Davu closed his eyes briefly, his head falling back slightly as he muttered a small prayer under his breath before amplifying his voice to speak to the crowd. "I, Davu, a faithful servant of my Lord Hanuman, am ready to meet my savior. I am a Jabari who sought to bring a new era. If I must die to ensure Hanuman rises greater than before then so be it. You have not seen the last of me or my people. You may kill me today but Lady Zarah, you will remember me forever. This tribe will remember me forever. This path was given to me by him. If I had to do it all over again, knowing this outcome, I pray I would follow his word once more."

He bowed his head for a moment, signaling that all his last words had been said as he waited to be dragged to the cliff’s edge. N’Danna pulled him along more like a rag doll than a human being. Davu’s eyes never left Zarah’s as they went and he kept them trained on her as N’Danna faced him to look at the small crowd. He held him there for a second, waiting for Zarah to give the final words before he could be thrown to his death.

She took a deep breath. She expected there to be more emotion, her first time passing the sentence that led to someone’s death but she felt nothing. No remorse, no small rays of guilt for the life she was cutting short. Just a desire to end it, to toss him away and the past along with him.

"Life is a precious gift. How we spend it is entirely our own. We must contend in this life with the choices we make, even when they mean our downfall. And now Davu, your time on this Earth has come to an end and I pray you find comfort in the mountains with Hanuman as you spend an eternity reflecting on the choices you made."

Brother and sister shared a nod, before he lifted Davu up by the arm and dangled him off the cliff. The wind howled, a second passed, a brief smile graced his distorted and bloodied features before he plummeted beneath the cliff’s edge. N’Danna watched for a moment until he saw his body, broken, at the bottom of the cliff. He could not hear the thud, the audible signifier that his life had been snuffed out, but he knew it was there beneath the loud winds. He walked back to stand by his sister.

She took a deep breath, she could feel the tension leave the crowd. She could guess what they were thinking, "It is finally over." But it was not, far from it.

"But now we must reckon with the darkness within." Zarah turned her attention back to her parents, who stood at the front of the Council. "And so, Elder Amari, please step forward."

Amari shared a confused glance with his wife before stepping forward, tall and confident. It seemed he did not know, did not realize the timer his life was on as he stood before his daughter. He was slightly unnerved though, by the uncharacteristically cold glance in her eyes.

"I will ask you all one question and I expect the truth, did you conspire with Davu to overthrow the Chief of Jabariland?"

She tilted her head and examined him as she watched all the emotions pass through his face: faux outrage and shock to find the fear and guilt she knew simmered beneath the surface.

"How dare you ask such a th-"

"If you admit your betrayal, you can keep your life and live in exile out of Jabariland. Lie to me and you die here, today on this mountain. Did you pass along information to Davu to help him overthrow Lord M’Baku? He claims that in exchange, he promised to allow our family to maintain their seats of power under his new reign. Is this true?"

"Daughter! This is madness. Lunacy! Why would you believe only his word? He is not even a Jabari!" he argued.

She raised her hand to silence him. "I would not have brought you nor the entire council here without proof. You have betrayed this tribe. You betrayed me. I am offering you mercy, that offer is dwindling by the second. Lie to me again and you will meet Hanuman faster than you anticipated. I will ask only once more. Did. You. Betray. Me?"

"How could you think I would conspire to have you killed? W-w-what would I gain?" he argued.

"These are not answers! They are deflections. I can think of a few things, the top one being someone in power who shares your beliefs, your love of power. Shall I review the evidence stacked up against you?"

She started to cover the distance between them before a strong arm wrapped around her waist to stop her.

“That is enough, Zarah. Perhaps Davu was lying. Maybe your father was not involved, let's just end this," M'Baku demanded.

"NO! My father is lying and I know he is! And if he wishes to keep his life, he will tell me the truth.” There was a small breath as both waited for the other to concede. They rarely disagreed in public, rarely questioned the other’s authority either. But neither were willing to back down, willing to turn back. “Get off of me, M’Baku," she whispered lowly, so no one else would hear her. He hesitated but soon his hand slid away, giving her free reign to walk toward him again.

"There is no evidence! I have done nothing wrong!"

She began to yell over him, drowning out his attempts to lie, to save his own skin. "General N’Danna admitted to sharing intimate knowledge of the search for Davu for the last month; Davu admitted to receiving that knowledge from you! He also admits to taking your suggestion to look outside Jabariland. We have a confession from Davu implicating you as an accomplice. The list of people who could have given him information about the guards and their protocol to get me alone is short and you are on it. And lastly," she gestured toward Jahari who had Mosi next to him in handcuffs. "We know that someone paid my guard money to remain silent about what happened the night I was taken. Shall I call him up here and ask him who paid him or do you want to just admit it yourself? Your treachery is long, and the web of deceit you have used to hide it is unraveling."

Her father opened and closed his mouth several times, his excuses and reasoning running out. He had not expected to be found out, certainly not held accountable for it. Still, he knew she was bluffing about executing him. His daughter was weak, she would not execute her own blood. At his silence, she motioned for Mosi, who was standing at the edge of the forest, to be brought forward.

Kasim held Mosi’s arm in his grip as the man walked toward his chieftess. Mosi’s face spelled his guilt clearly, he was no hardened criminal. He was simply selfish and lacked the same loyalties as the rest of the guard. But he was prepared to admit his faults because he was not willing to die for Elder Amari.

Kasim nudged Mosi forward toward Zarah and M’Baku. Zarah took notice of how his eyes were trained on the dirty snow below his feet instead of her eyes.

But before she could ask him any questions, her father interrupted her.

"No! Zarah, I am sorry! I did it. I did it," he rushed out, not needing the guard to sell him up the river. He seemed to be under some allusion that giving the information up himself would soften the blow of his betrayal. It did not.

Shock settled among the group as Zarah eyed her brother who stood off to her side. She looked out of the side of her eye at him, his face twisted in shock and pain. He had not wanted to believe it, had spent every moment of the last few hours denying it. But denial is the only emotion with a definite expiration date, it has to end eventually. She directed her attention back to her father, who seemed unnaturally calm like due to the assurance of mercy if he told the truth. Little did he know. Zarah was not a liar by nature but she knew her father would never admit his faults unless he saw the benefit in it for him, saving his own life. However, she had made peace with his death before the Talon touched down in the soft snow of this bluff. There was never going to be any mercy, his sentence was written before he opened his mouth.

"Why?" she demanded, as two guards moved from the sidelines and grabbed him by his arms, ready to arrest him or exile him out of their borders.

"Souls of the Jabari needed to be saved! M'Baku is destroying everything we hold dear, every reason Hanuman has blessed us for as long as he has! We had to do something, we had to act!" he argued, fuming with frustration.

"So to save Jabariland, you sought to steal her and hand her to men that do not respect our customs and our ways? By almost murdering your chieftess and daughter?" M'Baku asked, voice even and cool despite addressing the man who helped cause all this, whose actions almost killed his wife.

"You do not deserve to lead this tribe," he spat. "Neither of you! You are too stubborn and pigheaded for your own good. And you, my daughter, are weak. Neither of you understand the true way of the Jabari!"

"Father... th-this is madness. How could you do this?" N'Danna called out. He looked as if he was seeing his father for the first time. His finery falling away and he was forced to confront what laid beneath his distorted image of his father: a coward.

"Son, you have to understand, I had no choice!" Tears formed in his eyes as he tried to explain himself, get his first born to see his warped reasoning. Zarah did not remember ever seeing her father cry, he did not believe in displaying emotion in that way. Part of her was moved by them, but then she remembered that those were not tears for his guilt, they were tears that he got caught.

"Elder Amari, do you admit to conspiring to murder the chief and chieftess of Jabariland and overthrow the throne?"

"Zarah please! It was never supposed to go this far! He was just supposed to take you, scare you, t-t-then kill M'Baku! I am sorry! Please!"

She turned her head away from her father, catching her eye with her brother, whose eyes finally affirmed her choice, her path forward. "You once told me that death was the only punishment befitting treason. You sought to destroy the very foundation of our tribe and for that, there is no forgiveness. I am sorry, baba."

His face went white as he realized he miscalculated, the assurance that his life would be spared was wrong. This was it, this was the end. It seemed that realization dawned on everyone because soon her mother's pleads for mercy joined the fray.

"Zarah! Do not do this! He is your father. Please! Chief! Stop this please!"

She turned to her husband, she was not sure what she was searching for in his eyes as they looked at each other. Permission? No, she did not need his permission to do it. She just wanted some reassurance, support, any indication that he finally agreed with her decision. She was not sure if that would make it easier but she would, at least, feel vindicated. He gave her a small nod, almost unnoticeable to everyone else. But she understood what it meant, she could press forward and he would be right behind her.

She gestured at her brother, who took their father's arm from the guard and dragged him to the cliff's edge.

"Son! Son, please! I made you into the man you are! Your sister is not fit to lead, he is not fit to lead. You have to understand why I did it! You know I am not a bad person, please!"

N'Danna wished he could shut off his ears, the pleads of the man who raised him doing little to dampen the anger and betrayal he felt. He may not have agreed with all M'Baku's decisions but he would follow them until the end of the Earth. He certainly would never try to overthrow him. The Jabari had no room for people whose loyalties did not meet those very basic tenants.

Zarah stared, eyes watering, as her brother held her father at the cliff's edge. His and their mother’s pleads moved her less than the passing wind. The decision had been made, she would not turn back now.

The loud gasps of the council and wails of her mother rang in the air as Elder Amari was thrown to be with Hanuman in the afterlife. His wife crumpled to the ground sobbing as his body fell to its end. A few tears fell as her mind imagined his body thudding in finality at the base of the mountain next to Davu's. Now it was over.

Her mother’s sobs caused her to redirect her attention to her body on the ground.

"You cannot do this! You are nothing without me and your father. We made you into the woman you are today!" Her mother's grief morphing into anger at her daughter, the reason her husband was now gone. Zarah felt for her, she really did. But it meant nothing.

Zarah walked up to her mother and looked down at her, "I am chieftess because Hanuman destined that I be chieftess. Not because of you but in spite of you. I pray you find comfort in him as you mourn the loss of your husband. I have no evidence that you conspired with Elder Amari and for that, you will get to retain your place on the Council and life here in my tribe. You are my mother and I love you, truly I do. But know this, if you ever speak to me that way again, it will be the last time you speak to me."

She felt her mother wilt under her stare, her coldness. "You are all dismissed."

****

M’Baku woke to find the small staple beside him gone. He wondered if this was how she felt all those weeks, waking up alone and cold without the love and comfort of your partner’s embrace. Anxiety gripped him as he visually scanned the room and saw no light in the bathroom or closet, signaling that his wife was not in their bedroom at all.

His heavy legs swung out of bed as he pulled on pants and a sweater and grabbed his knobkerrie off its stand. His eyes floated down to the second holder, noticing that her borrowed kerrie was missing as well. His mind called back to when he promised to carve her a new one. He shook his head, shaking off the frustrations at himself. He had been so distracted that he did not even bother to uphold that promise, to give her that gift. He made a mental note to do that immediately.

He opened his door to find Kide. "D-"

"Training Center," he responded immediately, knowing the question before it fell from his chief’s lips. "Jahari went with her and she said she was calling Kasim as well."

M’Baku nodded before pulling on his shoes and heading to the other side of the palace.

When he got there, all he heard was the loud cracks of knobkerries. Confused, he pressed forward into the main training room to find his wife and Kasim fighting. Jahari stood off to the side, chest heaving, which let him know that his wife was alternating training partners. He stood at the door and watched for a few moments. She trained with an intensity and callousness he had never seen before. A blow to her side caused her steps to falter and distracted her for a moment before Kasim brought his weapon down on the back of her legs, bringing her to the ground and pinning her there.

He held her there for a moment before reaching down to pull her up. "Again," she demanded. "Do not go easy on me this time."

“I think we both could use a brea-” he panted.

“No. Again,” she said shortly.

Kasim let out a deep sigh, eyeing his chief by the door, before his body sunk into its battle stance. They had been at it for hours. She was not as good as him, this they both knew. And she was not even performing at her usual best, the weight of the last day making her movements slow and imprecise. But if she wanted him to push her even harder, then that is what he would do.

Zarah rolled her neck and shoulders, preparing for another round. Her body was sore, she knew bruises would blossom on those sore parts come daylight but she did not care. She had no desire to rest, to slow down and be forced to contemplate the choices and actions born out of the last 36 hours. She would keep going, keep standing until her body was running on fumes and gave out on its own.

"Kasim!" She heard a familiar baritone bark as she blocked a blow from his kerrie for the hundredth time. Kasim immediately stopped fighting, turning his body and attention toward his chief. Zarah rolled her eyes, frustrated at the interruption. "That is enough. You and Jahari are dismissed for the evening."

Zarah scoffed. "No! We are not finished. I am not finished."

"That is enough Za. You need to come to bed and rest."

"He is the head of my guard, he takes orders from me." The adrenaline from fighting fueling her insubordination, her challenge of his authority.

"Leave us! Now!" he barked at the guards, who scampered quickly. They refused to get caught in the middle of a lover's quarrel.

Zarah rolled her eyes, twirling her borrowed weapon in her hands. "I will not scurry off to bed just because you ordered me to. I am training." She walked away from him to grab water and wipe off the sweat dripping off her face.

"For what exactly?" He asked. His trepidation and concern for his wife was at an unprecedented level. From their argument to the events of yesterday, he did not understand how she was still standing, much less fighting.

"I do not know," she shrugged coolly. "Maybe for the next time men decide they want to use my life as a pawn in a fight for greed and power, a fight for that damn wooden chair you sit in."

His shoulders slumped. "No one is ever going to do that again Za. I promise you, no one will have the chance ever again. Come to bed. Rest. It has been a long day."

"We would have said that before and look at us now? The consequences of my complacency. I am not going to bed so either you train with me or you go back to our room alone."

He nodded, before sinking down into his battle stance. She quickly joined him on the mats and into hers before they started.

"You are still angry with me?" she asked as she dodged a swing of his staff before trading one of her own. He grunted as she connected her weapon with his side. Zarah always attacked early due to her smaller size, forced to get the upper hand in a fight early to win. He shook it off, continuing by advancing on her, quickly forcing her to switch to defense mode.

"I was never angry with you." A loud crack echoed through the training room as their weapons connected. M'Baku quickly responded, showing his superiority as a fighter, and soon knocked his wife onto her back. She huffed for a moment, ignoring the ache from his weapon and falling before getting back up and attacking again.

"Still lying? I know when you are upset M'Baku... and you were enraged. Probably more angry with me than you have ever been. So tell me why. You wanted to talk, let’s talk. We are already fighting so say what you need to say."

M'Baku sighed. He did not want to pile on to everything she was already dealing with. But regardless of wants, this is what they needed, what she needed. She wanted to release her frustration, her rage. A conversation, even if it inevitably turned into an argument, was long overdue. He could not avoid this physical battle they were in and neither could avoid the pending verbal one.

"I just… I just do not understand. Explain to me why you would take such a risk? Go back there and jeopardize everything like that?"

"I had to. I needed to see him," she argued back, blocking his blows. He noticed her stamina was running out, her fire dying out as she tried to channel her emotional pain into her blows.

"Why did you need to see him? What on Earth could he do for you?" he pressed.

"Answers… I needed answers and he had them. And thank god I did or my father would still walk around this tribe. A traitor would have gone unpunished. Going there was a blessing."

"Yes and I am thankful we found out about your father's betrayal but you had no idea there was a traitor in the Jabari when you went. Do not act like this was some mission guided by Hanuman because that is not the case. You risked your life to have a conversation with a madman whose, up until that point, actions were rooted in pure lunacy. He could have attacked you again, he could have killed you! So 'You needed answers for questions you didn’t even know existed' is not good enough, Zarah!"

He doesn’t understand. I had to. No one understood what it was like to live with such questions, such confusion and pain everyday. No one knew the holes it ripped into her already damaged soul, the toll on her mental health, the power not knowing took from her after he took so much of it already.

"You don’t get it! He has taken everything! I just wanted to take something back. I needed to fight back! I had to! Why can’t you understand that?"

M’Baku was trying to be patient, that is all he had been the last day, because it felt hypocritical to demand vulnerability and honesty when he had been anything but. However, his frustration was at a tipping point. She was right… he had never been more angry at her than the moment he realized she left their home, left him, to converse with a lunatic. He was suffering through the silent treatment while, according to Kasim, his wife had a whole conversation with Davu like they were old friends.

"No I don’t understand it because you won’t explain it to me! Why did you 'have to'? Why did you have to jeopardize your life - our future - for this? You chastised me for failing to be honest but you haven’t been honest with me either. Because ever since you came home, you have pretended to be ok, pretended to not be bothered by being tortured and poisoned and kidnapped. And the only person you are fooling is yourself because we all see it, we see you are not ok. So explain it to me!" Each statement was punctuated by the cracks of their weapons as he blocked her blows, noting the agitation and emotion growing as they fought. He saw it, knew he was finally drilling down and causing the mask to fall. He quickly overpowered her, pulling her knobkerrie out of her hand.

"No more fighting. No more avoiding this… what happened or me. Explain it to me," he repeated, holding her weapon above his head to keep it out of reach.

Frustration filled her face as she reached for it, "Give it back, M'Baku! I have explained myself."

"No! Not until you tell me why risking everything mattered so much to you!”

“Give it back!” she yelled as they fought and struggled with the knobkerrie.

“Not until you explain why you cannot be honest about your feelings with me and why you would rather talk to a lunatic about your feelings than your husband."

"Because I cannot continue to be weak!" She screamed at him, achieving the response he wanted - her anger to large to keep hidden and tucked away any longer. "I cannot continue to let others fight my battles and save me! First, N’Danna, then Adisa and then you. Mosi, Kasim, Jahari," She listed. "All my life, bigger and stronger people fight my battles because I cannot. And what happens when one of you isn’t around to do the saving? I fall apart, I become a weak... I become powerless, a woman who does not deserve to lead the tribe or be with you." Her chest heaved as she ranted, unable to stop the floodgates now that they were open.

"Men broke into MY home and took me away to be tortured, beaten, poisoned for days. And it was easy to blame you, to lie on a cold floor wondering why my husband hasn’t found me yet. But what did I do to save myself? Nothing!" she threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "I did nothing. I let him take me, I let him destroy me! I was ready to die in that cave, I lasted barely a day before I resigned to dying instead of fighting back. What kind of Jabari is that? What kind of Chieftess is that? You know what he told me when I found him? He did not want to kill me, he wanted to break me. ‘Whether you shatter all at once or break piece by piece, the endgame is the same." I am the weak spot and my father, Davu… they all knew it and they took advantage of it. And they have been breaking me piece by piece since I got home."

She held her hand up to stop him as she heard him try to interject. She could not stop now. "So why did I risk everything? Because I lost everything - my dignity, my body, my soul… you. He stole everything and I just let him ride into the sunset with it so I had to go and take something back. This was my chance, my opportunity to redeem myself, to feel like I could walk through these mountains and be more than the weak, broken woman you dragged out of that cave. Hanuman willed I be chieftess and I will not fail him, this tribe or you ever again. I went because it was not your fight, it was mine and I was going to see it through until the end. No more weakness,” she pounded her first into her open hand, “No more cowering in the shadows… that woman is gone!"

She harshly wiped the tears that streamed down her face away but fresh ones simply replacing the old ones. Silence fell over them as her rant ended. M’Baku just stared at her, she was expecting a rebuttal but all she got was an expression of sympathy. She let out a strangled frustrated groan as she turned away from her husband, away from his pity. She did not want it, did not need it. And now she was simply frustrated with herself, for letting him push her to reveal all of that and that she could not stuff all those words back into the deepest abyss of her soul, where no one else could hear them. But now they were floating in space, free, which made them too real for her.

"Little one…"

Her motions stilled as she heard that nickname, the first time he had called her that in almost a month. But she did not want to hear it, fearful that she did not deserve it when she felt this broken... this shattered. "D-d-don’t call me that… I d-don’t deserve it."

She felt his presence behind her, the shadow of his large frame around her small one. Two hands gently grabbed her waist to turn her around. She tried to back away from him, put needed space between them.

"Little one... look at me, please."

She shook her head, eyes still trained on the floor as she tried to free herself from his advances. She knew if she looked at him, the very last thread of her composure would unravel. "Let me go, please," she whispered, barely audible to try to hide the tremble in her voice.

"No… please look at me." He did not care if she fell, if she broke. He would always be there to catch her. He brought her flush to his chest, a hand sliding under her chin to force her glossy eyes to his.

"Zarah… listen to me. T-t-this is not your fault," she started shaking her head, his words clashing with the narrative she fed herself for a month. "This. Is. Not. Your. Fault. You are not weak, you have not been destroyed. You are chieftess of this tribe, one of the most powerful women in this country. You think he destroyed you because you are traumatized? Because you did not fight back against men beating you or after being pumped with poison meant to make you physically weak? Many could not have survived what you did. Acknowledging your pain, your trauma does not make you any less of a Jabari, a wife or a chieftess, it makes you human, it keeps you sane. It does not mean you are broken without repair, it is how you mend. Do you hear me? He cannot take everything from you because you are still here, you are still standing… still breathing and you are everything."

She pushed against his chest, trying to free herself as the emotional walls started to close in around her. "I-it’s not true. Everything h-h-he did, he did to break me. I l-l-let him b-break m-"

She gasped and tried to fill her lungs with air as her emotions finally broke free. Her rapid and ragged breaths filled the room as she tried to stop the emotional runaway train she was on. She didn’t notice her legs give out beneath her until her husband’s hands guided her to mat on the floor.

One of M’Baku’s hands touched her cheek to wipe a tear. At his touch, she fully broke down, an avalanche of emotions crashing heavily on her. Tears flowed freely as she closed the space between them and buried her face in the nape of his neck. His hands snaked around her back pulling her as close as he could. A soft whimper left her lips and gave way to loud sobs racking through her entire body. While she cried, M’Baku said nothing, simply letting a few tears fall on his own. He just wanted her to be happy again, whole again. And if this was a necessary step on the road to recovery, he would be there to navigate it to the best of his ability.

They simply sat there, two souls lost on their path back to one another finally reunited. But reunions were not always happy. Sometimes they resembled the path that it took to get there, filled with suffering and pain.

They sat on the floor in the depths of their winter palace unleashing stored pain until her sobs quieted enough for him to take her to bed.

****

Zarah's head pounded as she rolled onto her stomach under the heavy duvet on her bed. Her hand slid across their soft sheets to find home, warmth. Soon, they collided with a warm body whose arms immediately wrapped around her and pulled her tight against his torso.

"How are you feeling?" He asked tentatively.

Zarah adjusted on herself to fully drape over his bare chest. She sighed deeply, feeling comfort she hadn't felt in too long.

"I'm fin-" she stopped herself, unable to stop the lie before it started to leave her lips. Her mind hardwired to hide her emotional suffering under a painted smile. The weight of the last 36 hours felt as heavy as ever. Each hour had extracted a heavy toll from her, physically and emotionally. She never got a break as they siphoned off of her, and she finally felt it - the emptiness left behind.

She was officially on fumes and that only allowed energy for the activities needed to maintain her survival. She no longer cared if M’Baku would view her differently. She was who she was: defeated, bruised and broken. He would accept it or he wouldn’t. "Not gr-great," she pushed out as her voice broke. She didn't have any other words to describe how she felt.

"What can I do? What can I do to help you?"

She sighed, wondering if there was anything he could do to ease the emotional ache of the last day and a half… the last month for that matter. And the answer, she quickly realized, was no. All the problems she now faced, all the trauma she had to unpack were demons residing in her mind, heart and soul. Her husband was an expert on the battlefield but he could not fight those. They were hers alone. And now the monsters were freed from their cage, running amok in her mind and there was no putting them back. This was a battle she could no longer run away from and an unfortunate truth dawned upon her: she could not fight it here.

When she looked at her home, she saw nothing but destruction, the ruination her father and Davu brought into her life. It sullied everything around her, every aspect of her life. Even M’Baku did not look the same anymore. Their marriage tainted by others' quest for power and greed. How could she hope to weave herself and the foundation of their lives back together when there were so much trauma filling the spaces to pluck at the threads again?

Davu was right: he cracked the foundation and until they addressed that, until she addressed those fissures, they could not build anything.

She knew the path forward, it was clear. But she did not know if she had the strength to do it. How could she say goodbye to him when for her whole life, she yearned for him, craved him, never had enough of him? She begged Hanuman to bring her back to M’Baku, vowed she would never leave him. And now that was the only option?

She shook her head, "Unfortunately, there is nothing you can do. These are things I must confront on my own."

His hand feathered her face, noting the sadness and exhaustion in her eyes. He hated it, hated all of this. The things he would sacrifice to go back to two months prior, when their lives were simple and easy. But he realized that this was how life worked. Like snowfall, it can be gentle and peaceful or harsh and unrelenting. And sometimes, you think it is over and before you can recover, the skies open and pour down more on top of you. They had moved through the worst of it… somehow preserved through the unforgiving cold, pushed through the painful beatings of wind, found the path to the other side through the heavy falling snow. And now they had to figure out how to rebuild after the wreckage. They would though, he was sure of it.

She leaned into his hand, the gentleness it held counteracting the rough calluses on his palm. "Anything you need, just ask. I am here, truly here with you, until the end of my days. You do what you need to heal and I will be there, no matter what it takes."

Tears escaped her eyes, which he promptly wiped away as they fell. No matter what it takes. That lifted the weight of the guilt already forming off her shoulders. She could do this and he would still be there when it was all over.

"Thank you," she whispered, throat tight and voice breaking. She propped herself up and kissed him gently on the lips. Against her better judgement, her hand snuck behind his head and pulled him in for a deeper kiss, shifting his large body on top of hers. He felt all she felt - the passion, the need, the desperation.

He moaned into her, hands roaming and exploring the body the world and his own hubris denied him for a month. He missed her, Hanuman knew he missed her. But still, a nagging thought held him back from ravishing and worshipping her as he wanted.

"Za…" he broke their passionate make out, leaning his head against hers as she tried to catch her breath. "I want this. Hanuman knows I want this. And I am sorry for all the times I denied you recently. I just could not love you the way you deserved knowing I failed you as I had. That was my mistake. But you said so yourself, you just lost your father today. Your confrontation with Davu yesterday, our argument… your breakdown...Is this wise? Are you sure you want this?"

"I-I-I don’t know the answer to that. But wise or not, I know I need you… I know this is what you can do for me right now. I need you in this way. I just… I just need to feel that you are here with me. And this is the only way I can truly get that. You want to take care of me, be a gentleman and I love you for it. But please don’t deny me this."

M’Baku stilled, he knew it was not wise but he would not deny her any longer, he learned his lesson. He captured her lips again, their hands now on a mission to strip the other bare at record speed. As his lips started their usual journey south to the Promised Land of her core, he pulled away briefly and looked at her, sadness filling his eyes as he really examined her for the first time, having not seen her naked in weeks. Her body was littered in scars and she had lost a noticeable amount of weight.

She took notice and her eyes shifted to the window and away from his. "I will gain it all back, I promise. And the s-scars are not nice to look at. I know I don’t look the same, n-not how you like me."

"Stop usana, I like you in whatever form you give me. I just want you to be happy, whole, healthy. You are always beautiful to me. I do not care about the other stuff." He continued his journey south, preparing to worship her as he always did. This time, he was determined to make it count, to make her forget the endless torture the last month brought upon her. To spell out his apology for compounding her pain over and over again.

But his time was cut short when she pulled his face back up to hers. "I appreciate that but I need inside me now. I can’t wait." Zarah had been desperate for this contact for weeks. At this point, it wasn’t even a sexual need. She needed to be filled, to be stretched as far as she could. After a month of being depleted and not even really realizing it, now she knew she was empty. She just wanted to be poured into.

Her entrance was already slick enough, begging and aching for him as he lined himself up at her opening. As he pushed into her, her face screwed up in pain, her body trying to reacclimate to his size. But she did not care how much it hurt, she wrapped her legs tight around his waist, ensuring that he knew not to stop. He stilled on top of her as she adjusted, she let out a deep sigh at the feeling of fulfillment, of getting what she needed after being deprived for so long. However, she immediately felt a small tinge of regret. Doing this would make what she needed to do tomorrow that much harder. But that was a dilemma for future Zarah she ultimately decided as she gently rocked her hips, urging her husband to begin his relentless pace into her body.

"What do you need my queen? Tell me what you need?" he asked, wanting to let her set the pace and tone for this encounter, it was about her.

"Fuck me. Make me forget it all."

He nodded, understanding what that meant, before he snapped his hips into her causing a cry to escape her lips. And for the rest of the night, as he poured his hard work and love into her at a superhuman pace, she forgot everything.

****

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Adisa asked her as she helped her pack. Zarah rolled her eyes - her friend had asked her the same question 5 times since she summoned her and her brother to the palace.

"Yes, I am sure," she assured as she pulled dresses down into a bag. "I have already worked it out.You are acting as if it is forever. This is temporary, I promise. I'll be back soon."

"This place... this tribe doesn't function without you Za," her brother said. He understood, he did. She was healing and needed to get away. But he was still in mourning, trying to sort through his own emotions and now he has to do it without the only person who understood the depths of it. “We just lost father and now you too?"

Zarah's motions stopped as she tried to not think about him. Guilt clouded her face. She turned away from her brother and best friend so she couldn't see the silent scolding Adisa gave her brother.

"Is she not speaking to you?" She asked.

"Nope. She refuses to see anyone and did not attend the council meeting this morning. She wants time away from us… from everyone."

Zarah nodded. She lost both her parents last night, she would find a way to accept that.

"What did M'Baku say about this?" He asked, in an effort to change the subject.

"He has said nothing because he does not know yet. I am headed to tell him now." Adisa handed her a bag with the rest of her necessities. She knocked on the door, Kasim and Jahari, now assigned to her, immediately entering and gathering the bags to carry to the carriages. "Wish me luck with that one?"

"You'll need it. Get well sister, I love you." He pulled her into a tight embrace before she moved to hug Adisa.

"I love you too."

They walked with her until they reached the throne room. The walk felt shorter than ever but that was because she wanted to prolong the inevitable.

She pushes into the room, not surprised to find her husband surrounded by the rest of the council. Their attention snapped toward her.

"Can I speak with you my king?"

"Leave us," he barked, causing all the elders to quickly scramble to gather their things. No one wanted to be told twice.

"You never have to request an official audience with me Za. This is as much your throne room as it is mine. Are you alright? Do you feel ok?" He asked in rapid succession, walking down from his throne and examining her for signs of discomfort and injury. He had not even wanted to go to work today, but when the chieftess executes an elder, there is not much of a choice.

"I am ok, I’m ok. I ju… well, I wanted to talk to you. I-I wanted to say goodbye." Her eyes remained on his breastplate, avoiding the confusion and immediate tinge of pain that passed through them.

"G-goodbye? Wha - where are you going?" If the world could hear what was happening in his body, he imagined it would sound like a city collapsing. His heart, his soul was slowly crumbling before she even answered his question.

"To the Golden City. I-I-I need help M’Baku and I c-cannot, I cannot get it here." Her big eyes begged for him to understand, to not make this harder on her than it had to be. He was transported back to a distant memory when he sat in this throne room and told her he was leaving, to challenge T’Challa, to fight for the soul of Wakanda. He imagined that he looked now much like she did then: heart broken, fearful, despondent. Except he did not have the right to be as angry with her as she was with him back then. While he was guided by his pride then, she was guided by a need to heal herself. And he could not demand she do so in the way and space he wanted her to.

"I spoke with King T’Challa and he told me of the counselor he used after his father’s death and that business with the usurper to heal his wounds. He thought it would be beneficial for me to meet with him."

"Ok, when do we leave? I shall accompany you."

Zarah shook her head, hands meeting on his chest to halt his movements. M’Baku knew the answer before he said it, he just knew he had to try. He had hoped he was wrong and she would allow him to go with her.

"If I genuinely believed your presence would help heal these wounds, I would ask you to pack a bag today and come with me. But the truth is that I don’t know if it would. I love you M’Baku, Hanuman knows I do with my whole soul. But… everything here reminds me of the worst time of my life. Everywhere I look in this place is a reminder of everything I lost, everything I almost lost, including you. I cannot heal or move on like this. I cannot be the wife or chieftess you or our people deserve, even a fraction of who I once was, when I feel like this. This," she gestured around the room, "does not feel like home anymore. I need it to again before this can be anything again."

He nodded, a small soft hand wiping the tears that streamed down his face. "I understand, believe me I do. I j-just do not know how to let you go, or say goodbye to you."

"Then let’s not." Their foreheads met as they savored one last moment in each other’s arms until only Hanuman knew when.

"Promise me you will return when you are better, when it feels like home again. For the Jabari… for me. Promise." He demanded gently. Zarah smiled through her pain, remembering memory he was calling back to, the last time they said goodbye.

"I am not foolishly rushing off to my potential death my king," she joked. "This is not forever, I will be back as soon as I can. I promise." She placed a kiss to his lips and cheek before she broke from his arms to leave. Each step hurt like a physical wound but she knew it was necessarily. She was finally putting herself first, prioritizing healing herself so that she could go back to who she was or find a better version of who she was. She just prayed that she did not just make a promise she couldn’t keep.

****

A/N: There is one more chapter after this and then I will be focusing on The Chosen Ones series but I think I will keep doing one-shots and such of Zarah and M’Baku because I love them so much lol Thanks for reading as always!

@muse-of-mbaku @destinio1 @jellybean531 @missmohnique @dawva @afrolatinpami

#Black Writers #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagines #black panther fics #m'baku x reader #m'baku imagine #m'baku smut #m'baku x oc

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sergeanttpoliteness · 6 years ago

Note

idk if you’re taking requests or anything, if you aren’t ignore this, but if you are I would die for a classic, upside down spider-man kiss with the loml spider-noir. poor guy would probably be very surprised at first but suddenly its his favorite thing to do. thanks I love you and your work!!

AND➝ mayhaps…. a first kiss with noir? if u have time!

sorry for answering so late nonnies! i feel so bad about that, i promise i wasn’t ignoring y’all. same goes to the few other requests i have in my inbox right now!

——-

➹ inconvenient feelings➹ (spider-noir x reader)

word count: 2.5k

a/n: can you tell i had no idea what to call this lol. i didn’t edit either bc… oof. i’ve been struggling a lot with writer’s block (nothing new, honestly lmaoo) lately and someone close to me recently passed away and i haven’t quite… been able to wrap my head around it?? i don’t know, not to be a little bitch but this week consisted of a lot of school stuff, emotions, and anxiety so thanks @ the people who requested this bc i needed to write some wholesome stuff. also thx at my bestie for helping me out w ideas, ily broz. anyway, there’s some minimum ripeter x reader although it’s solely platonic! hope you all have a lovely week (:

taglist: @marvelousmorales

It’s not convenient. Convenient was that one person with the pretty smile whose eyes seemed to possess an affinity to him that one time at a jazz club, or the singer with the honey voice and smooth runs more soothing than the late night singing of a mother to her child. A poor goon who smooched his fist whilst it collided with his face could even fit the designation, really— but what mattered, the simple component they shared, was that all three were just a speck in a sea with no end; an eternal blue void with only more possibilities hiding in the pitch-black depths neither he nor the light’s fingertips could touch. They were safe. Uncomplicated.

Peter stared out the window, at a completely distinct world, far from a city in a vintage film: the ongoing the mechanical song of speeding cars, the newer and taller lit up buildings, the blinking golden lights, identical to a field of a thousand miniscule suns. This was not convenient. It’s… so different— like day and night, water and fire. This meant to swim out of the ocean he belonged to and reach for a foreign land, to run after a mere drop of water when a whole fucking body existed behind him. It’s not safe. It’s complicated.

Your sleepy eyes roamed the same page for the fifth time with no precise purpose, more disoriented than a newcomer in a large city until they traveled and spotted their true destination: Peter’s own sight deeply engulfed in the view outside, the twisting of his brows every now and then filling your mind with wonder and curiosity at what could possibly be running through that brain of his. You could’ve continued with the ogling like the damn creep you were (seriously, you gotta stop it with that, you told yourself), but you slipped and made a mistake— the most laughably absurd misstep— worse than trying to take a picture of a stranger and then, to your utmost terror, the flash going off— which wouldn’t have occurred in the first place if you’d paid your electricity bills on time. Your apartment wouldn’t have been plunged into darkness, and you wouldn’t have, without thinking, your head clearly not in its right place at the moment, slightly tilted your phone and directed your phone’s flashlight right at the side of his face. You quickly pulled the beam of light away, as if that would work; however, his gaze drifted to you. “Sorry.” You blurted out, acting casual and pretending to focus on the journal on your lap. “You were so quiet, I thought you had fallen asleep.” You lied.

“No, I’m awake.” He said, furrowing his brows to himself— of course you already knew that. You mumbled a small ‘good’, holding the notebook close to your face, like a child staring through the window of a pet shop at some puppies, shining the ‘smartphone’, he’d learned, over the pages. You bit your lip, your shoulders shaking with your surfacing laughter.

“Oh, man, this one’s so dumb.” You snickered before running your finger up the paper, clearing your throat. “October 8th, 1999. Today I came back from my camping trip with Peter, Ben, and May. We ate a lot of s'mores— Uncle Ben makes the best! We also told some scary ghost stories, and I even made Pete scream. It was awesome. You will not believe what happened!” You read the last sentence with a dramatic tone, similar to that of a terrible news headline from a sketchy website, making yourself more comfortable on the L shaped bench seat and leaning into Peter’s side.

Peter tensed at first, but slowly, he pushed himself to relax after you rested your head on his shoulder, a quiet voice in the back of his head speaking against his desires, echoing the terrifying thought that he could get used to this. “I don’t know, enlighten me: what happened?” He asked, amused. You lifted your finger, eyebrows raising gradually, building up the suspense. He waited, and waited, and waited, until, finally—

“I have to go eat dinner. I’ll tell you later.” You finished with an unhumorous voice and a poker face. Yet again, he awaited in silence, interested. Man, you took this suspense thing quite seriously— wait.

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?!” He looked down at you and you nodded. “Oh, c'mon! You just gonna leave the reader hanging like that?”

You shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin, loving his genuine disappointment as you flicked the page. “Sometimes that’s just the way it is.”

“Oh, what malarkey!” He laughed softly. You crinkled your nose— malarkey. What a dork.

You resumed scanning the barely discernible handwriting, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards. “Alright, this one does have an ending.” You sat up, rolling your shoulders back only to go back to your position of hunching over the journal. “April 3rd, 2000. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long, I forgot I had this journal. Something crazy happened.”

“The end.”

“Shut up.” You shushed him, shaking your head. “'I hung out with Peter today. We rode our bikes, had a race down the hill near my house, and I also got a butterfly to land on my finger. Man, I love insects!’ …and I still do.” You smiled and he glanced down at you, his mouth twitching. A peculiar glow in his chest grew, fueled him after he recognized that you felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with him; an insight on the stories that carved you into the person that you were today, the being that made every classy, pearly white grin and musical prodigy so boring, so undesirable.

You shuffled on your bum to turn and face Peter, continuing, “We came back home to play some more. We were sitting in front of the TV when, suddenly, he said my name, and like a normal person would, I looked at him…” You inclined forward, voice quieting, looking up at him.

“You won’t believe what happened.”

His eyes darted heavenward and he groaned. “Oh, lord.”

“He kissed me!” You cried out, with as much emotion that past you spilled onto the paper with the five exclamation marks and the three times you underlined the sentence. You slammed the notebook shut and let out a strangled clamor. “I still remember it very clearly. It was just a peck, but he fucking… smashed his mouth into mine, it hurt so much and my lip started bleeding and everything.” You giggled, abashed, rubbing your eyes.

Peter’s brows rose with surprise, pondering how an alternate seven-year-old version of him from another universe had more balls than him. He had to admit, though, the scene playing in his head was more entertaining than unfortunate. “And what’d you do?” He questioned, his mouth twitching.

“He was just curious and wanted to see what kissing someone was like, so we promised we wouldn’t talk about it ever again. He was so embarrassed, though, and felt so bad for making me bleed that he almost started crying.” You recalled, chuckling as you eyed the cursed diary one last time and placed it beside you. “What an idiot. I miss him.” You sighed, peering up at him, grinning. “What was your first kiss like, huh?”

It was comical, almost, the raging blush that trickled his face, the greyish tint screaming for the world’s attention. It was just a Peter Parker thing, you guessed: blushing like there was no tomorrow. “Uh, my first kiss?” You nodded. “Well… it happened when I was eighteen.”

You put the side of your head against the wall, eyes going round, your inquisitiveness close to that of a kid listening to a grandparent’s story. “Was it romantic?” You wanted to know everything: who the person was, the place, the context. Did he enjoy it? Did he make the move? And if so, then was there a chance that, maybe…

Unlike you, he did not have much interest in the subject; he stuttered, searching for a way to move on from the memory before he imploded. “I don’t, I don’t think anyone’s first kiss is romantic.”

You squinted at him, noticing his obvious attempt at dodging the question, but chose to spare him. Just for a few milliseconds, though. “Have you ever had… a perfect kiss?” You said, unsure of how to word such a silly question. He shook his head and you hummed, silently taking in a quick breath, your gaze moving to your right. “Have you thought about what you want it to be like?”

Should he say it? He wanted to. He really did. But he couldn’t, even if his eyes almost flickered down to your lips. “Who thinks about that?” He muttered. Perhaps he had. Perhaps he’d been guilty of having the thought slither into his mind once or twice— possibly more than just that. Perhaps it’d pestered his mind as of recent, like that damn small scratch on his glasses that won’t go away no matter how many times he tried to wipe it away as if that would even help. Perhaps it returned as you unconsciously licked your lips and raised your shoulder, a bashful grin growing on your face.

“I have, when I’m bored. An upside down kiss with a cute guy.” You admitted, your eyes narrowing afterward, only just now realizing how bizarre the idea was once you said it aloud. Your impatience throbbed in your head so badly you didn’t mind the embarrassment as much, though. You really were doing this, huh? “I think I found the cute guy.” You hinted, your heartbeat pounding in your throat.

He understood the insinuation, of course he did. But what better way to run from your feelings than close his trembling hand into a fist, pretend to be clueless, and act like an idiot?

“Who’s the lucky fella?”

Didn’t think he was so stupid, you grumbled in your head, masking your faint irritation. You pressed your lips together, sight on your cushions. “Someone I like quite a lot.” You vaguely said, voice distant. “Though I don’t think you’d understand— you’re not one to fall in love, no?”

It was half a joke but half a real question, one with solely one right answer you yearned to hear from him if you got lucky enough. Peter blinked nervously, fear burning in his stomach, clenching his insides as his tongue dared to break free from his control, from his cowardly spell. “Lately I’ve had someone in mind.” He breathed out, close to breaking out in a sweat. He watched how your eyes dimly lit up, hesitance impeding the light from fully glowing.

“Really? And who is this ‘someone’?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Tell me.”

“Not now.” He gulped. You pouted, begging with your eyes. “N-no.”

“Are you ever gonna make a move?”

Peter drew his lower lip between his teeth, feeling dizzy just by thinking about it; the downfall of the relationship once the distance became too much, once the malaise with no cure finally rotted the adoration, infested the heart, decayed it. “No.” Same answer. Same bedeviled word that boomed in his head whenever his emotions were close to getting the best of him.

“Why haven’t you done it yet?” You whispered, not caring anymore about how obvious you were

being. He frowned. Why hadn’t he done it yet?

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Why not?”

Why not? His own thoughts repeated, betraying him. The confusion unlatched the cage, released all the questions and doubts about his reasons and dread. They crowded his brain, rang in his ears. “It’s… it’d be too hard to keep the relationship alive.” He retold more to himself and the storm of interrogations than you.

Your brows snapped together, your own fear knocking on the door again. “Is it not worth it to try, though?” It’s what you’d told yourself: the antidote to unfreeze your limbs and wave goodbye at the concern hanging in there, because… was it not?

In the overwhelming haziness, he finally looked at you. It’s what he needed to come upon a realization, a truth he knew all along but crumbled and threw away. Everything hushed, one single, final phrase in the quiet of it all.

Convenient wasn’t what he wanted.

“It is.” He said under his breath.

You heard him, and your eyes twinkled. “Well, then make the move.”

He couldn’t help it anymore. His eyes found your lips.

“I will.”

You stared at each other for a moment, anticipation never more warming than right then as it fluttered in your chest. To your biggest disappointment, he broke eye contact and stood up. “Close your eyes for a moment.” He ordered, his face indistinguishable in the dark now that he was further away.

“Creepy, but okay.” You huffed, your eyelids fluttering shut. “You better not be running away right now, you’d break my poor ol’ heart.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not the case.” You heard him say. You trusted him, which could’ve been a terrible choice. The total silence that followed didn’t put you to ease at all, honestly. Maybe you annoyed him so much with your questions that he was about to murder you, and if that’s what was happening, you were quite sad, to say the least.

Your eyelids were itching to open and you lifted a brow, straining your ears to distinguish any sign of his presence. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re not gonna believe what’s about to happen.”

You snorted at his reference, but his voice was… oddly close. You opened your eyes, and— “Oh, fuck!” You yelped and jumped back in your seat. Damn right you weren’t gonna believe what was about to happen, for Peter dangled from the ceiling right in front of you, upside down.

“Is it too much of a strange idea? I was going to simply stick to the ceiling upside down, but then I thought… that’d be… worse.” He clumsily explained. You looked up at the web he hung from, laughing in disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing?” You repeated, but you weren’t mad— your large smile backed that up. You couldn’t figure out if it was a blush creeping up his face or if it was from the fact that he was upside down. Both, maybe.

“I’m making a move.”

You giggled, glad you confessed what you considered to be a perfect type of kiss to him or else you wouldn’t had witnessed how absolutely ridiculous he looked right now. “So you’re willing to help me check 'kissing someone upside down’ off my bucket list?” You smirked.

He grinned. “It would be my pleasure.”

You bit your lip, placing both hands on his head. “Alright, then.“

You leaned forward, the tip of your nose brushing against his chin. You softly kissed the area below his bottom lip to tease him, but he didn’t want to wait any longer. Not after so long. Quickly, he enclosed your own bottom lip with his mouth, lastly fully aware that inconvenient truly was magnificent.

#spider noir x reader #spider man noir x reader #spider noir one shot #spider noir imagine #peter parker x reader #spider noir x you #spider noir x y/n #spider noir #sm:itsv #spider man: into the spider verse #spiderman noir #spider man x reader #gender neutral #fem!reader #male!reader

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prettyyoungtragedy · 6 years ago

Text

Written in the Stars - Epilogue

Characters: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: You’re the type of woman who is headstrong and fiercely independent. Heiress to a fortune and one of the most brilliant minds of the 21st century. Until you’re forced into witness protection. Your “Protection” turns out to be 220 pounds of dreamy, sassy, delightful Bucky Barnes. Whatever could go wrong?

Warnings: Fluff and more god damn fluff!

A/N: And the time has come for me to say goodbye to these characters that I poured my blood sweat and tears into lol. Man, I love each and every single one of you who left the most amazing, gorgeous heart rendering feedback on this fic! You made my days SO MUCH BETTER with all the comments and reblogs and asks screaming at me! I adored writing this for you guys and I hope the next time I write some Bucky trash you all will jump on the bandwagon again!

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for coming along this angsty garbage train of a fic and for sticking with me through till the end. Y’ALL ARE SOME FUCKIN’ OG MOTHER FUCKERS AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT!

Thank you to @suz-123 for all the hours you put into listening to me whine about Bodyguard!Bucky and for all the words of encouragement (and the threats lol). This fic wouldn’t have been half as great if I didn’t have a fucking world class Beta like you. I got real love for you friend!

Links are being a bitch so you can find the whole fic in my WIP masterlist in my bio!

Taglist is closed, Sorry guys!

Crisp cool sheets against your back, Bucky’s lips ghost over yours and you sigh, headily. It’s a reunion, you finally got the all clear from the doctors that you were healed from all bullet wounds, broken bones, and bruises and it wasn’t even half an hour later that you were all over Bucky.

It was desperate stumbling through the lake house, clothes tossed across the room, his arms around you as tight as he could hold you and lips pressed to yours, tongues dancing with each other before you both crashed into the bed in his bedroom.

He placed slow deliberate kisses along the column of your neck, pausing at your pulse and just feeling its slow steady beat for a moment, his mind filled with only thoughts of you and how much he adored you at that moment before he traces the outline of your collarbone with his tongue. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, pulling him impossibly closer, his lips traveled across your chest, pausing at the scar the bullet had left and pressed a kiss to it then moved to the next scar.

Bucky takes his time, he has no urgency about this moment, he wants it to last for as long as it could. A lifetime of exploring your body with his mouth didn’t feel like enough time for him. His hands roaming across your body, yours on his, soft kisses and murmurs of how much you loved each other.

He holds you as close as he can to his body as he pushed into you, his lips finding yours again, muffling the moan that escapes your throat.

“Fuck, I love you,” He muttered leaning down and kissing you softly again as he fucked you, each slow deep thrust sends a spark snapping up your spine and your mind spinning with affection for this man. He looked at you with those starlight eyes and you were drowning in them. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, everything about being with this man sets your existence alight.

You curled your arm around his neck, the other under his metal arm and hold him closer, your bodies flushed as you moved to the rhythm of the other. The ecstatic pleasure building between the two of you, higher and higher and you feel dizzy from it.

And when that ecstasy implodes, toppling both of you over the edge of that cliff you’re standing on together, it’s like everything in life aligned for you again, and nothing else mattered but him, and this moment.

~~~

“When did you and Fury decide on that?” Bucky asked, interlacing his fingers with yours. It had been a week since your little reunion and he had done well not to ask too many questions, or demand answers from you.

The two of you kicked everyone out of the lake house and just wrapped yourselves up in each other. Taking every moment you could, just loving each other.

Bucky said he loved you every chance he got, he said it when he woke up, when the two of you went to sleep, he murmured it when he held you in his arms as the two of you did nothing but cuddle on the couch, and he fervently said it every time he made love to you that week, which was more than two people should have at that point.

Every time he said it, you responded with the same amount of fervor he did. It was like the two of you wanted to keep saying it over and over until it was all the other could think about and at that moment, it was all you could think about, just how much you loved this man.

“After the car incident, he came to see me while I was in the Med Bay and we talked about it. He told me they would never stop coming after me as long as I was alive,” You replied tilting your head and looking up at him, “So he explained Tetrodotoxin to me, which I already knew about, since I sort of helped Banner with some of the research for that, and we came up with the plan to kill me in a way.”

Bucky frowned at you, the memory of being told you had died replaying in his head again, and he hated it.

You reached up and smoothed the frown from his face, before kissing his forehead softly, “Of course being taken by Arcas wasn’t part of the plan, we’d initially thought we could stage a car accident or plane crash or something. But life kinda got in the way and well Arcas did too.”

“I hate that I didn’t know about this and that I wasn’t there to protect you from that,” He murmured,

“Stop, don’t do that. You did everything right, Bucky,”

“But, I could have-”

“No, you couldn’t have, because this was my decision, and mine alone, to make. In a way, I am glad things turned out the way they did because I get to leave behind that old life and start a new one, with you.”

“Yeah still doesn’t make me feel any better,” He muttered,

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” and he grimaced as he said that realizing the joke he had inadvertently made which made you burst out laughing.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the files Bucky?”

You watch his whole face change, you had been wanting to ask him about the files since you two we reunited but held off on it not wanting to ruin the moment. Bucky knew about your work, he knew what it was being used for but he never told you.

Bucky sighed, “I guess I wanted to protect you from that, I thought if I never told you and you never knew what they were doing with your work that guilt wouldn’t be on your shoulders,”

“But it was my work that made all those soldiers and I don’t know how many countless others,” You said softly, “And you shouldn’t have hidden that from me, I had a right to know.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I just...wanted to keep you away from my world even for a little bit, and if it meant hiding that from you then I was willing to do it,”

You placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled his lips to yours, kissing him deeply.

“I love you for that but don’t ever lie to me ever again.” Your tone makes him chuckle.

Bucky smiled when you said this, his fingertips brushing against your bare shoulder. “I mean as fuckin’ crazy as your plan was, which, by the way, you could have really died, I am glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks to that serum,” You muttered and you feel him tense up beside you again.

“Are you...is...do you feel different?” Bucky asked cautiously. Neither of you had spoken about the serum that Strucker had given you and after Banner and Tony ran multiple tests on you they discovered that it had sort of enhanced your being, kind of like what had happened to Bucky and Steve in a way just with different effects.

“A little yeah, maybe stronger? But that’s neither here nor there.”

“And there was no way to reverse it?”

“We’re working on that, but for now, I’m just glad it saved my life. Funny how my life's work is the reason I almost died and I am still alive today,” You let out a quick laugh

Bucky didn’t find this funny, he frowned at you again and pulled you even closer against his body. “Not funny,” he muttered,

“Oh lighten up asshole, I can joke about it now.”

“Too soon,”

“I know but it’s okay because I am here, you are here and that’s it.”

You tilted your head up again and kissed him sweetly, Bucky sighing into the kiss. He’d never get used to kissing you, it was his new favorite thing to do. He held onto you tightly, like he had been doing since you came back to him. Too afraid to let you go for fear of losing you again but he knew in his heart that nothing would take away what he felt for you, and vice versa. He was going to hold onto you till his dying breath and even then if there was some kind of afterlife, he knew he would spend an eternity holding onto you because you made him feel whole and more alive than any other soul in the universe.

“I love you,” Bucky muttered breaking the kiss,

“I love you more, idiot.”

This made him smile.

~~~

In the months following your ‘death’, things changed drastically, more people came forward exposing Hydra. SHIELD cracked down on their operatives and began rooting out moles and other Hydra agents among them. The Avengers became the front runners in doing this, shutting down as many Hydra cells as they could.

Bucky, of course, took it a little more personally than the rest of the team, as he had a new fervor to fight with. He tried his best to stay out of the fighting as much as possible, after the last fight he’d been in had brought out more of the Soldier that he would have liked, but he still went on missions with the rest of the team.

Bucky had told you what he’d done after you were taken and both of you agreed, he’d stay out of the line of fire, it was better for everyone.

You, on the other hand, had a whole new life to start, and it began by hiding out in Bucky’s lake house, trying to figure out what you were going to do next with your company now under the control of Stark Industries, you had the financial freedom to do whatever you wanted.

“I like Germany?” You said taking a bite out of the slice of pizza in your hand, the two of you seated on the floor in the living room of his lake house which had now become your home too.

“No, I don’t have good memories of Germany,” Bucky shook his head,

“What about somewhere in Morocco?”

“Yeah, Morocco is a hard pass, the Winter Soldier has been there too many times,”

“God, is there anywhere in the world you actually like?”

“I like Italy.”

You paused for a moment, chewing thoughtfully at his suggestion. The two of you were trying to pick a destination for you to go to for a little while, to lay low at until this Hydra thing blew over. Turned out it was harder than you’d imagined, seeing as neither of you could agree on a place to go to.

“Italy is only nice in the summer,” You replied,

“No, it’s not, Italy is nice all year round,”

“Uhh, have you been there recently? Because I have, and it’s not,”

“Don’t argue with me, I am telling you, Italy is for us,”

“Oh yeah, how can you be so sure I’ll like it?”

“Because, it’s got wine and pasta and Prada, everything you love, sweetheart,”

You laughed heartily at his response, before leaning over a kissing him sweetly on the lips.

“You get me, Bucky Barnes.” You murmured smiling at him.

~~~

‘Terrorist organization rooted out in SHIELD as the Avengers shut down the organization in pursuit of the criminals behind the human experimentation's done in Queens. Doctor Werner Reinhardt, Baron Strucker, and Alexander Pierce all arrested as allegations made against them bring to light their ties to the criminal activities. Officials are now calling for Senator Sterns arrest amidst his ties to the Hydra sect. Forerunner to this whole operation is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes whose tireless efforts have brought justice to so many nameless victims in this war-’ - NY Post

“Are you reading the New York post, again?” Bucky sighed grabbing the tablet out of your hands and tossing it onto the nearby couch,

“Yes I am, and give that back, I wasn’t done,” You grumbled reaching for it but Bucky snatched it up again and held it out of arm's length as he sat down beside you, pulling you close.

“What are you even reading?” He asked his eyes going to the heading of the article you were reading and he groaned, “Good god, don’t read this pompous trash,”

“Why not, my boyfriend’s a hero and an Avenger.” You laughed,

“Fiance and retired Avenger,” Bucky corrected you,

“Semantics,”

“No, say it,”

“No, it’s a stupid word.”

“Oh my god, don’t mock centuries of tradition, woman, I put a ring on that finger, and demand you call me your fiance!” Bucky feigned offense as he tossed the tablet onto the coffee table and pounced on you pinning your hands over your head, pushing you down onto the couch.

“No, you giant moron, nothing about you and I are traditional,” You laughed as he assaulted your neck with kisses. Bucky let go of your hands and nudged your legs open, settling above you with a grin on his face.

“I missed you,” He said softly completely changing the tone of the mood, he leaned in and kissed you, softly.

“I missed you more,” You said, pulling him in for another kiss,

“So are you all set for our sabbatical?” He asked, pulling away and sitting up,

“Yeah, can’t wait to stop hiding out here and actually go on a real date with you,”

“I’ll take you on all the dates, the moment we get there,” Bucky grinned at you,

“That makes no sense,”

“I know,”

“You’re so stupid,”

“But you love me.”

And oh how you did love him.

~~~

The sun was setting over the beautiful horizon, it casts a warm glow across the apartment kitchen. Sun streaks dancing across the terracotta rooftops in Florence, a soft breeze making the silky curtains flutter with them. You stood on the balcony holding a glass of wine in your hand, gently twirling the stem in your hand and watching the sunset.

You hear soft footsteps behind you moments before you feel Bucky slip his arms around your shoulders and draw your back flush to him. His muscular naked torso hot against your body.

“There you are,” He murmured against the skin on your neck before placing a kiss on your bare shoulder,

“Thought you were still asleep,” You said reaching up behind you and carting your fingers through his hair, he needed a hair cut.

“I was but you weren’t there and you know I can’t sleep without you,”

You smiled at this comment, two years later and he was still so god damn needy. You loved it.

“You’re such a needy little bitch,” You laughed softly and this earned you a little nip on your neck from Bucky.

“It’s called love, you hussy.”

You laughed again and twisted around in his arms to face him. You placed the wine glass down on the table next to you and reached up linking your arms around his neck. God, he looked so fucking perfect in the setting sunlight,

“Why are you so pretty?” You sighed leaning into him and placing a kiss on his neck,

“What kind of question is that?” Bucky chuckled tightening his arms around your waist as you trailed a line of kisses across his neck and jaw,

“You’re supposed to say I am pretty too, Bucky,”

“You’re pretty too, sweetheart.” He laughed, a moment before his lips found yours and he kisses you with fervor. The way his hands slid down your body, over your ass and to the back of your thighs before he lifted you into his arms told you where this was going and you weren’t about to complain.

~~~

It was well into the evening when the two of you collapsed tiredly onto the soft sheets beside each other, breathless and satisfied. The pale moonlight drifted across the room, casting a pale glow through it.

It was a perfectly starry night outside, and the weather was perfect. In fact, every day since the two of you had gotten here was perfect. There wasn’t a moment that you weren’t at absolute peace here.

After traveling around for a bit with Bucky to the Bahamas, Mexico and half of the Asia's, you’d both decided on Italy for an extended sabbatical. It was the perfect place for both of you considering how much you loved the food and wine and, well, Bucky just agreed with you because it was where he wanted to go the most.

It had been the most amazing year of your life, being with Bucky and traveling the world. He retired as an Avenger but still, on occasion, helped out his friends with missions when they asked nicely. But otherwise, he left that Avenging life behind, and the two of you lost yourselves to each other, traveling. It kind of became a history lesson with you every time you visited a new place and Bucky told you something new about it, or when he was here as the Winter Soldier. Things he remembered or had done. He was open and honest with you and it was everything you could have asked for.

A year since your ‘death’, Bucky asked you to marry him as the two of you stood in the Louvre beneath the starry night sky and you were at a loss for words. It had been the longest time since anything had felt normal for the two of you and at that moment you realized both of you wanted more than to keep traveling and moving around.

So you decided on Italy, Florence to be specific, the one place both of you could agree on wholeheartedly, and it turned out to be the best decision you’d ever made. A wedding in Florence with the few people that mattered to both of you and those who knew you were alive of course, Steve, Sam, Tony, Natasha among the guests and then it became your home.

You missed New York City, as you’d spent your whole life there. Bucky said maybe one day when all this was over, the two of you could go back, but as soon as you found a home in Florence you forgot all about New York and it suddenly felt like the home the two of you always needed.

And tonight, on the anniversary of your living here, you couldn’t have thought of a better place to be. The two of you now stood on the balcony enjoying the quiet of the night and each other’s embrace, taking in the beauty of the city below.

“You were right, Italy is great any time of the year,” You murmured kissing his forehead,

“I’m always right,” Was all Bucky said, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice at that moment. You laughed softly and intertwined your fingers with him, the gold band on your finger glinting in the soft moonlight.

“Okay, calm down there, you’re right like forty percent of the time,” You snorted,

“Let’s not have this argument again or I will have to bring up Acra,”

“You wouldn’t dare!” You gasped feigning shock and Bucky laughed.

“Oh, I would, believe me, I would.”

You were about to reply when the soft sound of a cry came through the little black monitor you’d set on the table nearby. Both of you sighed, and Bucky moved first.

“I’ll get her,” He said giving you a quick kiss before he made his way back inside and you can’t help but grin at his retreating figure. You still couldn’t believe just how much your life had changed since meeting Bucky, from hating him with every fiber of your being, to loving him more than you could ever love someone. Of course, you had Nick Fury to thank for all this, and you laughed at the thought of thanking Nick Fury for allowing Bucky into your life because god how you loved, adored and cherished James Buchanan Barnes.

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader #Bodyguard!Bucky #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #Bucky #Bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes series #Bucky barnes imagine #marvel au #bucky barnes au #bodyguard!au #Bodyguard fic

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concentratedsmartass-fics · 5 years ago

Text

Just Say Yes

Summary: Natalie decides she wants to go on vacation to the beach, and Lucifer decides he wants to see her smile every day for the rest of her life.

Words: 1754

Notes: THIS IS LATE. I had this idea Wednesday night, and then Thursday was a shit show in my personal life, and I haven’t had the emotional energy to do any writing until today. For @natanweek day 5, Coast. This is straight up a proposal fic, y’all, and I am very bad at describing rings, so if you care here it is.

Lucifer hated the coast. He truly did. He didn’t understand why the girl would ever want to come back here, but she had insisted.

“I just got my degree, this is like... a last hurrah. Before becoming a full adult. And I want to go to the beach.”

He’d tried arguing with her, tried convincing her to go anywhere else, but she had insisted. She wanted a week long vacation at the beach, and nothing was changing her mind. And so he had spent his day going from tourist shop to tourist trap, trailing after her while she slowly accumulated more bags.

She’d barely made a stop to dump the bags in an airbnb she’d rented (at least she had some sense, a hotel at the coast would be worse than the coast) and change before heading to the ocean just before sunset.

He almost reminded himself of those pictures she liked so much online, the series of a wife pulling her husband around different places, dragging him by the hand. He wanted to get frustrated, but he had accepted years ago that he was soft when it came to this human. To his human. Perhaps six months after she had started to call him her boyfriend, he’d resigned himself to his fate. He was always going to do what she wanted, practically at her beck and call, just because he knew it would put a smile on her face, and that’s what she deserved after everything she’d been through because of him. He would argue and drag his feet, of course; antagonizing her was still fun. But he knew that he’d eventually give in to whatever it was she wanted.

At the beach, Natalie moved to stand so the water was lapping at her ankles. “Isn’t it beautiful, Luce?”

“I suppose.”

“You suppose? You’re such a grump. It’s breathtaking.”

He couldn’t help but to agree with her, for purely selfish reasons. He stood a bit away from the water, watching the sun start to sink towards the horizon. The sky was painted with hues of oranges, splashes of purples and just a hint of pink. The water moved in gentle waves, reflecting the colors onto Natalie. He watched as her face softened, a smile tugging at her lips, her eyes wide in wonder. The wind gently blew her hair to the side, the bright orange matching the sunset. He could watch her for an eternity and never tire of it.

Feeling entirely too soft, he opened his mouth, fully intending to complain about the sand, or say something about how if they couldn’t leave soon he was going to drown her, but instead what came out was, “Marry me,” and oh. That was unexpected. The rest of his thoughts froze as he scrambled for a way to explain away the words, and he tried his best to cover up the surprise he was sure was showing on his face.

Natalie swung around, shock open on her face. She said nothing, just staring at him, and he raised an eyebrow. Then she grinned, and started laughing, shaking her head. “You almost got me! I almost believed you! It was such a straightforward delivery. That was good. Can you imagine? Satan getting married?”

He felt a twitch of irritation. He’d proposed, and she was laughing at him. A part of him couldn’t blame her, a part of him tried to remember all the pranks he so enjoyed pulling on her. A much larger part took it as a challenge. He’d make her believe him. Which came as almost more of a surprise than the actual proposal, the fact that he was willing to follow through on the impulsive words. He shrugged, doing his best to keep a calm demeanor, absently wondering what color his earrings were. “I’m pretty sure there’s books or something about it. People have a thing for marrying the devil.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t know him, and I do. He’s not the marrying type.”

Oh, it was on.

That night, while she slept, he sent out a text and got up to get ready. He dressed, and made his way out of the house, shutting and locking the door quietly behind him. A part of his mind screamed at him to not leave her, to not let her die alone, and he had to keep reminding himself that this time she’s not sick, that she won’t die in her sleep.

He really hates the coast.

Downtown was much quieter than it had been hours ago, all the shops dark. The lights were dim, spaced far enough apart that it was easy enough to find a dark alleyway. He knew he was early, and he didn’t want to admit to himself that it was because of the nerves tangled somewhere in his stomach. He was Satan, he shouldn’t be so anxious about this. He was in charge of the demon that was coming, he was in control of the situation, so why was he feeling like this?

He resigned himself to waiting, and another fifteen minutes later, the demon in question rounded the corner and approached him. She stopped to bow to him. “Master.”

“Alya. Where are they?”

She pulled a box out of her bag and held it out to him. He lifted the lid, and inside there nestled about 20 different rings. He closely inspected them, his eyes quickly zeroing in on one. It had a fairly simple band, with a small, round ruby nestled in its center. On either side of the ruby were smaller diamonds. “This one.” Alya nodded, plucking it from the box and setting it into a ring box, quickly handing it over.

“Hey, um, boss? Congratulations.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she quickly scurried away.

Natalie waking up was always a toss of a coin. Some days she’d wake up like it was her favorite part of the day. She would come bounding out of bed, already halfway through a plan to go to the park or the movies or whatever struck her fancy that day. Other days, she needed five different alarms to even think about getting out of bed, and at least two cups of coffee before she was able to string words together into a sentence.

This morning was definitely the second one.

He was already finished making breakfast by the time she dragged herself out into the kitchen for her coffee. He plated the food as she poured the coffee, and she nearly collapsed into one of the kitchen island chairs to sip at it, wrinkling her nose at the taste. He went to the fridge and grabbed her creamer, pouring some into her coffee and mixing it. With her next sip, she hummed happily and finally looked up at him. “Mornin’.”

“Perky this morning, aren’t you?”

She grunted at him, taking another sip of her coffee. He hated how adorable it was, even as he felt the ring box burning a hole in his pocket.

He’d spent the rest of the night trying to figure out the best way to propose for the second time. He was tempted to do it at the beach at sunset again, but he also didn’t want to wait that long. He’d thought about going to a restaurant, but hated the idea of strangers watching them. He’d thought about taking them on a hike, making her climb up another cliffside for his own amusement, but he hadn’t done his research to find a good place to do it.

She was barely halfway through her plate of breakfast when he got impatient and took the box out, slamming it maybe a bit too hard on the countertop beside her. She jumped and frowned around the bite she was chewing, looking at him and then down at the box, then back up at him, confused. She slowly reached out and picked up the box, opening it.

He saw the realization dawn in her eyes and she nearly dropped the box, her head jerking up to stare at him, swallowing down her food. “Lucifer?”

“What?”

“Is... Is this... Are you-”

“Did you think I was kidding last night?”

She frowned slightly before remembering, and her eyes widened, horror filling her. “You were serious! Oh, my god, I laughed at you! Luce, I am so sorry, I never thought--”

“Kid.”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“Natalie.”

“That was so insensitive of me and-”

“Love.” That one finally brought her up short. “You haven’t answered.”

She opened and closed her mouth a couple times before grinning. “You never technically asked.”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“I’m really gonna make you say it.” She closed the box and handed it to him, smiling widely, and the nerves vanished. She wouldn’t already be this happy if she was going to say no. “The whole thing, out with it.”

He huffed, rolling his eyes, despite the grin pulling at the sides of his mouth. He moved around the island and stood so he was directly in front of her, standing slightly between her knees. “Natalie McAllister. You are the biggest pain in my ass I’ve ever come across. You have a particular talent for pissing me off, and you always have, and I suspect you always will.”

“That’s not-”

“Shut up, I’m not done. I am Satan. I command demons. I’m supposed to stand against every good thing in this world, which is why, I suspect, you piss me off so damn much. Because you are good. You are everything good that this world has to offer. And for some reason, you decided to spend your time with me. The last, what, five or six years? You decided that you wanted me there. And I want you to keep deciding that you want me there, because I want all the time that you have. I have a feeling that even when I don’t have your time anymore, you’ll always have mine. So. Do you have a thing for marrying the devil?”

Tears shone in her eyes, even as she smiled. “That’s not the right question.”

He huffed again, amused despite himself. He opened the ring box once more, offering the ring. “Will you marry me?”

“You’re not gonna get on a knee?”

“You’re killing me, kid. It’s a yes or no question.”

She laughed, nodding her head. “Fine. Yes.”

He smiled, plucking the ring from the box and sliding it onto her finger.

Maybe the coast wasn’t that bad after all.

#natanweek2019 #satan and me #natan #fic #this is pure fluff #nothing bad lives here #i still plan on doing hotel too #maybe tonight maybe tomorrow #i've always known what i wanted to do for hell and home #ever since the first day #so those should be easy to blow through #but i've gotta figure out hotel still

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team-free-will-you-idjits-67 · 6 years ago

Text

Milestones (Part One)

Jensen Ackles fanfiction is that, PURE FICTION. I do not mean any harm to him or his absolutely wonderful and adorable family. Do not Danneel hate or I will block your ass. That shit is not tolerated here.

Description: Your first date with Jensen Ackles went better than you could have ever hoped, leading to a long life with your favorite actor.

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Reader, Hostess, Waitress

Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: Fluffy af. Jensen and Reader are cute, shy beans.

Word Count: 1451

A/N: Okay, so this series is for @dean-winchesters-bacon. She won first place in one of my challenges 100 year ago and I’ve just been a big POS and haven’t worked on it until now. I’m excited to see what y’all think! Also, huge shoutout to @justawaywardwinchester for betaing and helping me write this!

Taglist

Masterlist / Jensen Ackles Masterlist

You sat in your car, blasting the air conditioning as you tried to combat the nervous sweat that pooled in your armpits. You unlocked your phone and opened up Bumble, nervously tapping to your messages. He hadn’t messaged you, cancelling the date. Yet.

You rummaged through your purse for deodorant. You cursed at your nerves as you applied another thick layer. You threw it back in your purse as your phone chimed. You looked at your lock screen. Bumble: Jensen sent you a new message.

You tapped on the notification with butterflies in your stomach and unlocked your phone. Your messages seemed to take an eternity to load as you awaited the usual ‘Sorry, something came up’ message you’ve received so many times before.

You beamed as you read his message. I’m here and got us a table in the back.

You let out a long breath to calm your nerves before you turned your car off. You grabbed your purse and strode towards the restaurant with a newfound confidence. The hostess opened the door for you as she chirped, “Welcome to Sorge’s! How many seats will you need for tonight?”

You shyly smiled, “I’m actually meeting someone who’s already here.” You paused to clear your throat as your nerves tried bubbling up again, “His name is Jensen. Jensen Ackles.”

The hostess’ eyes went wide as she plastered a fake smile on her face, “Okay! Let me take you to him.”

You nodded as you gripped your purse strap tighter and followed her through the restaurant. Your jaw dropped as the waitress walked through a separate room in the back. You expected to be shoved in a back corner of the restaurant, not a separate room with a couple tables.

Jensen looked up from his phone when he heard the door open, shoving it in his suit jacket pocket as he stood with a smile. The hostess excused herself as Jensen walked towards you with open arms, “Y/N!” He enveloped you with his long, muscular arms, “You look amazing.”

You giggled as he pulled away and smoothed down your dress. “Thank you.” You looked him over: white tennis shoes, dark washed jeans, gray polo and a black suit jacket. “You look,” you trailed off as you eyed him once more, “more than amazing.”

He chuckled as he ushered you to sit down, “There’s no way I look better than you.” He pulled out your chair and pushed it in as you sat. He sat across from you and leaned forward, inching himself closer to you, “How has your day been?”

As you got lost in the emerald of his eyes, you thought ‘better now.’ But Jensen’s laugh made you realize you had said it aloud, causing you to blush brightly with humiliation.

“Well, I’m glad. Mine got better as I saw you walk through that door.” Your blush became deeper from his adulation, causing you to giggle. He rested his chin on a hand as he watched you with a large smile, “I like your laugh. It’s cute.”

You put your hands over your face, trying to hide the crimson that now adorned your cheeks. Jensen snickered at your reaction as a waitress walked into the room.

“Can I get you guys some drinks?”

You smiled towards her, “Can I get water with lemon?”

She nodded as she scribbled onto her notepad, “Of course!” She turned towards Jensen, “And you Mr. Ackles?”

“I’ll actually have the same.” The waitress nodded as she turned on her heel and walked out of the small dining room.

“So, tell me something that's not on your profile” Jensen asked, looking at you quizzically.

You were once again lost in his insanely green eyes and almost didn't hear him. You snapped back to reality and cleared your throat, “Hmm, what?”

Jensen grinned, “Tell me something about yourself. Something that’s not online.”

You blushed, yet again, as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, sorry.” You paused briefly, trying to come up with some unknown factoid of yourself. “Well, I'm kind of a singer,” you said slowly. It sounded so absurd saying it out loud. Telling Jensen Ackles that you sang was like telling Joe Montana you play football. You felt like such an amateur.

Jensen lit up, “Oh really? What's your favorite genre to sing?”

You were almost surprised he was actually interested. You figured he would laugh it off like you were another crazed fan, but you also forgot who you were talking to for a second. Jensen would never be the type to demean someone, he's only ever supported others, especially those in the Supernatural Family.

“I sing a little bit of everything, but mostly blues and rock. Tennessee Whiskey is one of my all time favorites.” His tongue was peeking out between his teeth as his eyes lit up at your answer.

“Tennessee Whiskey, huh? I’ve sung that a couple times with Louden Swain. It’s one of my favorites.” He paused as the waitress came in with your drinks and took your orders. “Um,” he took a sip of water and wiped at his mouth quickly, “my all time favorite song to sing though is Simple Man.”

You smiled and looked down at your water. “I'm sorry but I have to gush…” You looked back up at him, afraid to annoy him. He was still smiling at you, so you continued. “Your cover of The Weight you all did on Jason's album was incredible”. Deep rose once again flooded your cheeks as you went back to staring at your water. You weren't sure if you crossed the line, seeming more like a fan looking for five minutes of fame than someone on a date looking for a meaningful relationship.

He gently placed his hand on your wrist, breaking your attention for your water and back on him. “I’m glad you liked that.” He chuckled as his thumb ran over your skin lightly, sending electricity through you. “You know, you don’t have to hide the fact that you’re a fan. I knew that already and it hasn't deterred me yet.”

You bit your lip, “I just don’t want to cross a line or anything.”

Jensen shook his head. “You aren’t crossing a line. We’re two people, on a date, looking for forever. It’s just,” he shrugged, “one of us happens to be famous,” he smirked.

You gave him a warm smile and relief rushed through you.

The rest of the night, you and Jensen talked about everything under the sun. In the short period of time you had been with him, you felt more comfortable with him than people you’d known for years.

As the date winded to a close, Jensen walked you out to your car. He cleared his throat as you opened your driver’s side door and threw your purse into your passenger seat. “So,” you turned towards him, his hands rested in his jean pockets as he rocked back and forth slightly, “I had a great time tonight.” He looked down at his feet, “I was wondering if I could get your number though, to set up another date.”

You giggled and walked towards him, “Now you’re the nervous one?” Jensen looked up towards you with an apologetic smile. You held out your hand, causing Jensen to shoot you a confused look. “You can’t text me to set up another date if you don’t have my number.”

“Oh!” He fished his phone out of his suit jacket and handed it to you.

You smiled ear to ear as you typed your name and number into his contacts. You handed his phone back to him, “There.” You turned towards your car and grabbed your purse to fish out your phone, “You can text me right now so you know I didn’t give you the wrong number.”

For the first time during the night, Jensen was blushing as he tapped on his phone screen. Your phone chimed as Jensen put his back in his suit jacket. You opened your texts to a new message from a new number. Hey, it’s Jensen.

You smirked as you saved his number in your phone and then texted him back. Jensen who?

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and frowned at the message as you burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, I had to.” You wiped at a small tear that escaped from laughing, “But it’s me Jensen. I look forward to another date.”

He beamed as he wrapped you in the second embrace of the night, “That wasn’t funny you know.” He kissed the top of your head and stepped back, “But I look forward to another date as well.”

Tags:

Forever Tags:

@emoryhemsworth , @nanie5 , @gabrielslittleangel , @alexwinchester23 , @witch-of-letters , @caswinchester2000 , @justawaywardwinchester , @thehufflepuffblog , @missihart23 , @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting, @team-free-gallagher, @rhiannonj79 , @curly-haired-disaster, @mogaruke, @supernaturalsammy01, @heyitscam99, @hobby27, @crazyrebelbitch87 , @frozenhuntress67, @duskany,

Dean/Jensen x Reader Tags:

@xxtheoutsidersxx, @betsy-bradock, @adoptdontshoppets, @dean-winchesters-bacon

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural rpf #spn fanfiction #spn rpf #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles and reader #jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles angst #jensen ackles smut #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester and reader #tfwyi67 imagines

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slvtbible · 6 years ago

Text

ain’t like the other

Warnings: none!

Pairing: black!Y/N x longhaired!harry

[this is a small blurb for all my beautiful Melanin queens out there! Sorry if it sucks:/]

Harry wishes his friend’s wedding party would just be over by now,

It’s way past 11 pm and he’s tired as hell. Has been working 24/7 to finish his second album before the deadline finally hit him, his fans deserves the best and that’s why he won’t sleep until he finishes all of it. And because he’s too kind towards people, he couldn’t say no to one of his best mate, so he forces himself to get out of the bed—after only getting 2 hours of sleep— and head out,

Now, he’s starting to regret it. He wishes he just lays his ass on the comfortable bed and never wakes up.

Right now he’s standing alone as he leans his back against the wall, looking over at the newlywed who shares a soft kiss to which the crowd cheer on. He feels his body is about to collapse but it’s not entirely his fault, and it doesn’t feel right for him to excuse himself from the party just to get to sleep.

That would be so selfish of him and so he needs to wait.

“Harry! Thanks for coming mate!” His friend clasps his shoulder as he’s coming from his side, “i know your schedule has been very hectic at the moment but I appreciate it that you took your time to come here.”

Harry nods, giving his friend a dimpled smile. “Won’t miss it for the world, man. Finally has tied the knot, eh?” He jokingly asks

His friend chuckles, letting a small sigh escapes his lips as his eyes stares at his new wife who are laughing and taking pictures with her bridesmaids,

“Yeah, still can’t wrap it around my head to the fact that I’m a married man.” He takes a sip of his bourbon drink,

“Still can’t believe it either mate. She’s a keeper. What a lovely woman she is.” Harry compliments, nodding over to his best friend’s wife,

“Back off Haz, she’s mine.” Trent jokes, chuckling to himself,

Harry responds with a laugh, nudging his shoulder with his knuckles softly, careful not to spill his drink,

“Not planning to steal her.”

The two shares a laugh after, and soon begins to talk about their new lives. Trent asks him about Harry’s family back home and how’s his new album going. The two man even jokes about how Trent used to have a crush on Gemma but failed to asked her out because she already got engaged.

Harry also gives him few advices on how to keep their marriage long-lasting, though he hasn’t been married. He has seen enough of marriages that has failed and hasn’t. His parents for example,

“Well, gotta go. Chelsea needs me to arrange a few pictures in the back or something. See you later H.” Trent smiles and slaps his shoulder playfully before walking away to his new wife,

Harry’s left to swim with his thoughts yet again. He should’ve bring a plus one to this wedding. But he’s already fed up with the media stirring up some shit about him. If he asked one of his friends who’s a boy, people will immediately assume he’s gay and if he asked one of his girl friends to be his date, media will making up rumors about how she’s Harry new girl and shit.

That’ll only create more drama between the fans and he doesn’t want that. He had enough of fans arguing about his sexuality when himself hasn’t even confirmed yet, people may think he hasn’t seen what they written about him. He knows

He loves his fans to death but God forbid to say that they can be such huge pain in the ass sometimes. But he chooses not to say anything, because he’s known as the nicest guy on earth

Or at least that’s what he thought,

“This scene isn’t really your cup of tea, is it?”

He hears a soft yet [he can assume] fake British accent speaks from behind him,

In curiosity he turns around and he swears that she’s the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on in this party.

Her hair is dark—almost black— colour, pulled into a high bun which he can easily make out her long lashes that compliments her big brown eyes. Pink lips gloss paints her plump lips that he can’t help but stare at for what it feels like eternity,

What captivates him the most is her white shoulder off dress that stops right above her knees. Contrasts beautifully with her dark and glowing skin tone, and shapes the perfect large portion of her breasts and the rest of her curves that he has been longing stare as he does with her lips.

“Sorry that was bad. I’m not British actually but i went to school in London.” She says blushing a bit, stirring the drink with the olives

He smiles, setting his attention to the beautiful girl standing before him. “Really? Thought you were real posh for a sec.”

She rolls her beautiful eyes but manages to smile anyway, “right? Did you know that they’re looking for the 2.0 Scary Spice at the moment. I just knew i had to volunteer.”

Both laugh at her joke and he can’t help but notice how pretty her smile is and how her eyes squinting a bit as she does it. It’s truly the most prettiest sight he has ever seen in a while,

He learns that her name is Y/N and she just graduated from Kingston University for a Criminology major. And now she’s taking a gap year before she continues to pursue a major in Master but she has been having second thoughts about that.

“Bride or groom?”

She’s quick to shake her head, waving her hand off. “Neither. Just here for the free drinks because my sister asked me to be her date tonight.”

He nods in understatement, not once tearing his eyes from her beautiful face as she continues rant about the lack of music taste in this wedding and how she says that they should hire her to manage the music section,

Laughing, he pushes his soft hair back and says “you look like a person who knows their music.”

She hums in agreement. “I don’t know about you but, I’m into Kehlani, Sevyn Streeter and BJ The Chicago Kid kind of stuff. Or something relevant to those people.”

He nods again, not really knowing who are those people she has just said. He can’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it,

“Never heard of them actually” He shyly admits, sipping on his drink as he watches her shocking reaction,

“What the fuck?” He chokes on his drink when he hears her cuss, “Who even are you Harry Styles?”

He shrugs and smiles innocently at her which only receives a jaw dropping reaction from her,

“Lemme guess. You’re like Frank Sinatra and The Beatles kind of man, ain’t you?”

He holds his hands up, “you got me” he jokingly says, watching her shake her head and lets out a small giggle,

It’s the most adorable sound ever,

“I can tell. You should try and listen to RnB for your own sake. Jhene Aiko is great too, got that kind of chill vibes you can listen to in midnight.” She suggests, pushing a fringe out of her face,

He listens carefully to what she’s saying and he’s not pretending. He makes a mental note that he has to check these artists and their projects out, perhaps adding them to his playlist as well so that he won’t forget,

Two hours full of them sharing their music taste, the food in the wedding, upcoming tours and stuff. She mainly asks about his happiness and favorite artists other than The Beatles, and he finds himself enjoying these type of conversation. She sees him as Harry not Harry Fucking Styles,

They have gotten closer to the fact that they are sitting on the chairs that has been placed on the outside, enjoying each other’s company and how their shoulders casually bumping with each other because of how close they are right now.

She shares about her experience on going to college for Criminology major, discussing how some people in her uni are major pain in the ass because they sometimes would fight over small little things. And the way she delivers the words causes him to laugh even more,

He loves watching her talk. It’s calming to him,

“Oh shoot, i gotta go.” She suddenly says, looking down to the time on her phone, “I’m sorry Harry.”

His face falls in disappointment, not wanting her to leave just yet. “What? Why? Do you have work tomorrow?”

“An interview to be exact and i need this so bad.” She sighs, standing up to her feet as he stands as well,

“Oh well, want me to take you home?”

“You don’t have to H. I drove here.” She smiles, drinking her last gulp of the martini and place the glass down. “I had a great time with you Harry. Really did. So it’s not because of you alright? Calm your tits.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he laughs at her choice of words. “We’ll see eachother again right?”

“Of course, Harry. You have my number right?” She asks with a grin, winking before she pecks him on his lightly stubble cheek,

“See you around Harry.”

Lemme know if y’all want part 2!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles preferences #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurbs

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renjunsgaybff · 6 years ago

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Starry Night ✨🌌

Just a small drabble seeing into the mind of Jaemin and his favorite moment in time with his love

Ship: Renjun x Jaemin

Story Genre: Literally just pure tooth rotting fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 713

Jaemin’s POV

I felt the cool air of the fall night breathe it’s icy winds along the earth, a small shiver running up my spine despite wearing a thick long sleeve and a huge warm jacket. I stuck my freezing hands into my blue jean pocket to warm them up when I caught sight of Renjun under the brightly lit sky, stars littering above us in this huge cluster that was stretched into what seemed for forever. A gentle smile rested on my lips as I stared at his beauty, thinking how lucky I was to know him. Heck, I was surprised myself when he had asked me out. It was like a dream come true, my crush, what it seemed like an eternity I had liked him, the day I was going to ask him to be mine was they same day he decided to do the same.

I chuckled, remembering the day clearly in my head.

Both of us were sitting on the roof top like we always did during lunch, and right when I had gotten the courage to say, “I like you.” He turned, grabbed my shirt collar, and kissed me on the lips. I was shocked to say the least.

I was dozing off into space when I felt a little nudge, “Hey, whatcha laughing about?” Renjun asked me. Man, I’ll never get tired of his voice, it was literally the voice of an angel despite what he thought. “Just the time when you kissed me, and asked me out,” I said, pulling my hands out of my pocket to hold his hand when a small gasp escaped without me knowing, “Renjun, you’re literal ice!” I said, quickly shrugging the coat off my shoulders and onto his, only noticing now that he just had a long sleeve on. “Babe, you need to take better care of yourself,” I told him, wrapping my arms around his smaller frame, and kissing his cold forehead. I heard him chuckle, “Sorry, I rushed out the door without even thinking.” He sheepishly laughed, burying his head into my chest. I rubbed his back up and down, “What am I going to do with you?” I muttered into his neck, breathing in his sweet vanilla scent.

“Well, you could always kiss and hug me...”

“Ew, who would want to do that?”

“Jaemin!”

“I’m just kidding, if I could I would give you all the hugs and kisses in the world,” I laughed lightly, kissing his temple, “You’re too adorable to resist.”

“Damn right I’m irresistible!”

Shaking my head as a playful smile rose to my face, I looked back up at the magnificent view in front of me, taking in the amazing sight when I looked down at Renjun to see something even more breathtaking, so majestic that not even the most beautiful thing in the world could compete cause that’s what he is, standing right here in my arms. The way his delicate fingers play with my hair, to where his hips could sway like none other, to his neck that I could nuzzle in, to his soft hair that I could brush my hand through all day. The way his eyes sparkle brighter than any light when he sees something he loves, to the way his lips fit perfectly onto mine like a puzzle piece. He was all around perfect, cause let’s not even start on his heart and personality. He had the fierceness of a lion, yet the beauty and gentleness of a butterfly. He was kind to all, and loyal to his friends and loved ones. He completed me.

Renjun must have felt my eyes on him as he turned his head to face me, a soft smile gracing his already beautiful features only making him more radiant than he was if that was even possible. I traced a finger down his jaw, my eyes flickering down to his luscious pink lips to his dark chocolate brown eyes that drew me in the first time I looked. Soon enough we drew closer and closer till I felt his soft lips on mine, molding together in a light feathery kiss. It was the perfect kiss, just us, only love in the air, and under those twinkling stars that shine just like my beloved.

A/N: Okaksjoqiskqs lMAO so I actually wrote those like 6 months back at 3am because I was feeling real softᵀᴹ and just decided to post this. I hope y’all enjoyed this drabble because these boys just have this affect on me, idk how but whenever I see or read about them I literally just melt into a soft uwu puddle as they put me in my feels (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ JEJDJEJDJSJ omg also this actually isn’t the Renmin fic I was talking about that would be a complete disaster that’s coming up soon I hope :)

#im soft as hell #give me a sec so i can collect my fallen uwus #i love these boys too much #nct #nct dream #huang renjun #renjun #na jaemin #jaemin #renmin #renjun x jaemin #nct drabble #nct fic #moomin bby #flirty boi

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goforwardgreenwriter-blog · 6 years ago

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The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 5 - 6

“Last chapter was probably my favorite, and gave me hope that maybe everything won’t be so bad.” -a fool’s last words.

Aelin stared and stared at that piece of paper, at the names that had been signed long before tonight, the men who had decided against her without meeting her, the men who had changed her future, her kingdom, with just their signatures.

I feel like SJM is trying to make us feel sorry for Aelin, but.... no? She hasn’t proved herself worthy of being a queen at all! She flat out admits that these men have never met her - does she really expect these people to hand over the throne of their kingdom to someone they’ve never met?!?!?! WHAT IS gOING ON WHERE IS THE LOGIC

Aelin breathed, “Our doom gathers in the South of Adarlan—yet this is what you focus on?”

Umm yeah because the ruler of the kingdom is a very important job and one that is needed for war?? They need a strong leader to help guide them through the upcoming battles, Darrow is absolutely right to be concerned about this.

“The Bane,” Darrow spat, “is now ours to command. In the event that there is no fit ruler on the throne, the lords control the armies of Terrasen.”

You go Darrow! He’ll be the leader Terrasen needs and defend his kingdom while Aelin prances around demanding her crown be handed to her without her doing any work and threatening anyone who refuses to kiss her ass.

Something cold and oily clanged through [Aelin]. Marriage to a foreign king or prince or emperor. Would this be the cost? Not just in blood shed, but in dreams yielded? To be a princess eternal, but never a queen? To fight with not just magic, but the other power in her blood: royalty.

Hoo boy, the “I can’t marry for love but I have to marry for my kingdom” trope. I don’t mind this trope if it’s done well ( I guess I’m a sucker for that drama) but SJM is either gonna A. sweep it under the rug afterwards and never address it again, or B. milk the angst for all it’s worth and then come up with a last minute solution that doesn’t make Aelin have to make any decisions or compromises or work for her happy ending.

She had laughed once at Dorian—laughed and scolded him for admitting that the thought of marriage to anyone but his soul-bonded was abhorrent. She’d chided him for choosing love over the peace of his kingdom.

Karma is a bitch ain’t it

Aelin spoke into the dark, toward where Darrow was seated. “I suggest, Lord Darrow, that you become accustomed to this. For if we lose this war, darkness will reign forever.” There was a scratch and a hiss—then a match sputtered as it lit a candle on the table. Darrow’s wrinkled, hateful face flickered into view. “Men can make their own light, Heir of Brannon.”

Darrow literally takes no shit!! Why isn’t there fanart and posts dedicated to this bad ass old warrior instead of countless fans gushing over Aelin? Seriously, I’d ask for a Darrow backstory novel but SJM would fuck it up, no doubt.

But Aelin looked to Ren, his face tight. And over the roaring in her head, she said, “Whether or not you vote in my favor, there is a spot for you in this court. For what you helped Aedion and the captain do. For Nehemia.”

*chokes back on sobs* I miss when it was just Nehemia, Aelin, Dorian, and Chaol in the glass castle..... they really were simpler times.

Darrow expresses that Nehemia was a better princess than Aelin is (which is true) and references her death and Rowan fuckin’ threatens to kill him. So gg, you all are just proving Darrow’s point that none of you are fit for the responsibility of ruling/helping Aelin rule.

A messenger arrives and informs them that Rifthold will soon be under attack from the Ironteeth witches.

Aelin wondered if Manon Blackbeak would be leading the attack—if it’d be a blessing. The Wing Leader had saved them once before, but only as a payment for a life debt. She doubted the witch would feel obliged to throw them a bone anytime soon.

Ohhh is this foreshadowing that Manon is going to join Aelin’s side or am I reading into this too much? I’m worried that SJM is gonna reduce Manon to just another blind follower of Aelin hnghhh.....

Rowan’s hand brushed [Aelin’s]. “I will save him,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t ask this of you unless it was … Dorian is vital. Lose him, and we lose any support in Adarlan.” And one of the few magic-wielders who could stand against Morath.

Uhh and you’d lose one of your first friends you made after you were freed from the mines? The guy who you were once in love with? Seriously, she’s talking about Dorian as if he’s some weapon right now and not one of her best friends! I s2g as soon as Aelin met Rowan it was like Chaol and Dorian never existed in the first place and all that development she had with them got swept under the rug.

Since Darrow said that they needed allies, Aelin plots for them all to meet up in Skull’s Bay after Rowan rescues Dorian. Wait.... Skull’s Bay is from The Assassin’s Blade. But that means-

“I thought you knew Rolfe,” Aedion said. Aelin gave him a grim smile. “He and I parted on … bad terms, to say the least. But if Rolfe can be turned to our side…”

Rolfe!!! He was another interesting character from the first book (not a good guy, if I remember correctly, he owned slaves) who actually made Aelin work in order to beat him and gain victory. I’m excited to meet him again.

Alone with Rowan, Aelin said, “Darrow expects me to take this order lying down. But if we can rally a host in the South, we can push Erawan right onto the blades of the Bane.” “It still might not convince Darrow and the others—” “I’ll deal with that later,” she said, spraying water as she shook her head. “For now, I have no plans to lose this war because some old bastard has learned he likes playing king.”

Uhh fuck you?? For acting like Darrow is the bad guy here?? He cares about his kingdom and rather than let his grief over his deceased lover consume him, he fights hard to protect his people and makes sure the crown doesn’t go to anyone who will start a war over the stupidest shit. Fuck you Aelin, Darrow would be a much better ruler than you.

But if Rowan was caught, if Dorian was caught … “I can’t—I can’t let you go—” “You can,” he said with little room for argument. The voice of her prince commander. “And you will.” Rowan again traced her mouth. “When you find me again, we will have that night. I don’t care where, or who is around.”

That really is their only motivation at this point, huh? Aelin just wants this war to be over so she can bone her fae prince whenever she wants without any interruptions. I need a drink.

So Rowan leaves in hawk form to go rescue Dorian and Evangeline is going to stay with Murtaugh, since Aelin at least has the sense to not bring a child to a pirate paradise.

Aelin kissed the girl’s cheek and whispered into her ear, “Work your magic on these miserable old men while you’re at it.” She pulled away to wink at the girl. “Win me back my kingdom, Evangeline.”

I almost felt my heart melt at this cute interaction, but then I remembered that Aelin means Darrow and SJM wants the audience to hate him and that mood flew out the window. I’ll be the only Darrow stan on this website if I have to, damnit.

Aedion said to Ren, “Unless you want to swap one tyrant for another, I suggest you get the Bane and any others ready to push from the North.” Murtaugh answered for his grandson, “Darrow means well—” “Darrow,” Aedion interrupted, “is now a man of limited days.”

LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK AEDION!!!! Darrow rightfully denies Aelin the crown and you’re gonna fucking murder him? You need his alliance if you’re gonna win this war holy shit y’all are so fucking stupid!

Aelin said, “We don’t touch Darrow.” “What?” Aedion snapped. Aelin said, “I’d bet all my money that he’s already taken the steps to ensure that if he meets an untimely death, we never set foot in Orynth again.” Murtaugh gave her a grim, confirming nod. Aelin shrugged. “So we don’t touch him. We play his game—play by rules and laws and oaths.”

For once Aelin is finally using another method of negotiation other than killing people but stop framing Darrow as if he’s ~evil~ for not giving you your crown when you’ve done nothing to prove to any of the lords that you’re fit to rule! I am utterly baffled that SJM really thinks Darrow is in the wrong here.

So Murtaugh has been loyal to Aelin’s family, treated her with respect and kindness, and offered to look after Evangeline while they’re gone, so Aelin.... slices her palm and threatens him that if anything happens to Evangeline she will burn all of them. I’m not even joking.

Aelin clenched her bloodied palm into a fist, holding it in the air between them. “Because of that loyalty, you will understand what blood promises mean to me when I say if that girl comes to harm, physical or otherwise, I do not care what laws exist, what rules I will break.” Lysandra had now turned to them, her shifter senses detecting blood. “If Evangeline is hurt, you will burn. All of you.”

Seriously, can someone tell me if I’m going crazy?? AELIN THESE ARE PEOPLE WHO WANT TO BE YOUR ALLIES YOU CAN’T GODDAMN THREATEN ALL OF THEM!!!!! Murtaugh has not said one bad word to you and you’re threatening to burn him!!! WHAT THE FUCK AELIN THIS IS WHY YOU ARE NOT QUEEN YOU STUPID DKAHDFJAHFKDH

“Threatening your loyal court?” sneered a cold voice as Darrow halted a few feet away.

Oh thank god Darrow is here, a character who isn’t brain dead stupid. Seriously, number 1 Darrow stan right here.

Her heart strained, but Aelin said to Ren, that scar hidden by the shadows of his rain-drenched hood, “I wish we had time to speak. Time for me to explain.” “You’re good at walking away from this kingdom. I don’t see why now would be different.”

HOLY SHIT REN IS JOINING IN THE AELIN ROASTING!!! Ren and Darrow are the only good people in this entire goddamn kingdom.

Aelin said, “I promise you that no matter how far I go, no matter the cost, when you call for my aid, I will come. I promise you on my blood, on my family’s name, that I will not turn my back on Terrasen as you have turned your back on me. I promise you, Darrow, that when the day comes and you crawl for my help, I will put my kingdom before my pride and not kill you for this. I think the true punishment will be seeing me on the throne for the rest of your miserable life.”

>IMPLYING THAT DARROW WILL EVER NEED YOUR HELP YOU STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE WHO CAN’T EVEN GET THROUGH A SIMPLE MEETING WITHOUT ALMOST STABBING SOMEONE

I FUCKING HATE AELIN SO MUCH TO THINK I WAS ON THE FENCE BEFORE HOLY FUUUUCK

Ungh... I can do this. So they finally get their asses moving and Aelin sees the Little Folk have left her another present.

Brannon’s temple on the coast had been rendered carefully—a clever little contraption of twigs and rocks to form the pillars and altar … And on the sacred rock in its center, they’d created a white stag from raw sheep’s wool, his mighty antlers no more than curling thorns.

Obvious foreshadowing is obvious.

Finally chapter 6 holy shit. Chapter 4 gave me hope that the book was picking up but chapter 5 just shit all over my hopes and dreams.

Dorian Havilliard, King of Adarlan, hated the silence.

Dorian’s POV! Sadly since the books utterly forgot of his existence aside from torturing him emotionally after book 2, Dorian doesn’t get a lot of attention anymore. I liked him in the first three books, but given what happened to the other characters, let’s see how SJM butchers him..........

He lifted his hands before the view, his palms callused from the exercises and swordplay he’d made himself start learning once more.

A ruler who teaches himself how to fight in order to help protect his kingdom? Fuck yeah.

Dorian has some inner turmoil about being held captive and tortured and the revelation that his father had been possessed by a demon for years, and it’s.... good? It’s well written, Dorian’s problems are understandable and sympathetic, and he’s clearly taking precautions so it doesn’t happen again. Nicely done!

Dorian flexed his fingers, frost sparking in his palm. Raw magic—yet there was no one here to teach him. No one he dared ask.

I mean, the poor guy can’t even control his magic because all his friends who have magic are off pretending to be a good queen. *glares at Aelin*

He was halfway through the pillars of books and papers when he spied the horizon. When his city began screaming. Spreading into the distance, blotting out the sunset like a storm of bats, flew a legion of wyverns. Each bore armed witches, roaring their battle cries to the color-stained sky.

And here we go! I’m hoping for a good action scene, since the witches are so badass (even though I feel bad for Dorian and his people). We also switch to Manon’s POV.

With the height and distance, Manon fully beheld the carnage as the horizon at last revealed the sprawl of the capital city. The attack had begun without her. Iskra’s legion was still falling upon it, still spearing for the palace and the glass wall that crested over the city at its eastern edge.

This build up is really good! I’m excited to see Manon kick ass (even though again, the people she’s fighting are innocent).

Manon aimed Abraxos for the stone castle atop the hill, barely peeking above that shining glass wall—the wall she had been ordered to bring down— and hoped she had not been too late in one regard. And that she knew what the hell she was doing.

A cliffhanger to end the chapter. Although the wording leaves me to believe Manon isn’t actually going to do any fighting, but we’ll have to wait and see.

#the worm talks #the worm reads: eos #anti sjm #anti tog #anti eos

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whydontweband · 7 years ago

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Prey- A Daniel Seavey Stalker!AU

Requested? Lol no, no one’s twisted enough to request this but ta-da here it is!

Disclaimer: Heavy stalking elements, possessiveness, obsession, references of murder, generally creepy and angsty and straight up weird

If any of this material may cause sensitivity to you please don’t read- it’s created for entertainment purposes only and I don’t mean to offend anyone. <3

Please note that this is an Alt. Universe imagine- this doesn’t in any way reflect Daniel’s actual personality or how I perceive his personality to be. That boy is an angel and wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Word Count: 1465

Imagine Requests Closed, Reaction Requests Open!

The bags under his eyes only extenuated the dark pits that lay within his pupils- his eyes running soulless and his blood running cold as he stood under the eerie flickering street lamp. Rain poured down around him, soaking his black beanie and overcoat as puddles formed at his feet, but he didn’t seem to notice- all his attention was fixated on a single dimly lit window coming from the apartment complex across the street.

He knew your window by heart- he could tell from the silhouettes that decorated the curtained window pane. He’d recognize your figure anywhere.

Taking out a torn off piece of notebook paper from his pocket, his gloved palm clutched it in one hand while his other scribbled out a small note. Checking his watch once he’d finished, he could help but grin ever so slightly at the once so unfamiliar red band. It used to be yours. You’d broken the face last Christmas when you dropped it in your hot cocoa on accident, pitching it in the nearest waste bin. He’d managed to retrieve it after you left, going to several different jewelry and appliance repair shops before finding a place that could fix it. It was his constant reminder of you. 11:59pm. Right on schedule. Smiling, he read over the note once more as he crossed the street, making his way towards the lobby entrance of your apartment complex.

The guy from the coffee shop today;

At 2:17pm he looked at you like he wanted to kiss you.

I don’t like people looking at you that way, Y/N.

you’re mine.

Sleep tight.

-D

He watched in anticipation for the doors to open. At midnight, every night, the receptionist would take off work for the night. The night manager wouldn’t arrive until 12:04am. It was the only time of day that the lobby, and more specifically mail room, was empty. Security cameras weren’t monitored- and he was free to leave your nightly letter in your mail deposit box that was located behind the front desk. Without so much as a squeak from his damp trainers, he slid the note delicately into your mail slot. Apartment 362C. He’d inked the address on his inner wrist himself the day you’ve moved in- as if he would ever forget the combination. The art was sloppily engraved in his own messy handwriting, but it made his lips twist into a crooked smile whenever he looked at it, because it reminded him of you. Everything reminded him of you. The way the sky darkened every night reminded him of your eyes in fall, and the way the pavement smelled after a rainstorm brought him back to the time last April when you got off the bus and forgot your umbrella. It was torrential downpour and you were wearing your favorite red cashmere sweater that couldn’t get wet. He’d watched from the overhang of an alleyway across the street as you tried to duck for cover, hair dampened by the second. It was the first time connected with you face to face, though you had no idea who he was. He saw the tears brim up in your eyes, because even though he was across the street he knew the signs you made before you broke down in tears. Without a moment of hesitation he’d sprinted towards you, taking off his jacket and holding it over his head like a canopy as he collided with you, shrouding you from the rain with his coat. He remembered how you’d shrieked, calming only after you realized he was only trying to help. Rushing you towards the nearest café overhang, he’d looked at you with the gentlest of gazes, and something the felt almost sickeningly relaxing.

“Umm, thank you. W-where did you…how did you, I-I” You’d stuttered, still in shock from his unprecedented rescue. He’d never planned on talking to you, but there was something intoxicating about your voice.

“The cashmere.” He’d gestured towards your sweater, smiling smally as you glanced down, perplexed as to how he’d noticed such a small detail.

“I know it can’t get rained on, you looked distressed. I…I’m sorry if I startled you.” You’d shaken your head, though clearly concerned by the closeness of your forms. Without hesitation, he stepped away, handing you his jacket. You shook your head, pushing it back to him, but he insisted.

“Please, keep it. I-it won’t bite. I just…I don’t want you to get soaked.” You’d agreed softly, taking the jacket and draping it softly over your frame. He could’ve stared at you in his jacket for an eternity and never grown bored of the way it clung to your already slightly damp sweater. You were so beautiful, and it was the first moment he realized there was no one and nothing more in the world that he wanted than you.

“Why?” You questioned quietly, voice trembling in part from the cold, and in part from the cold company.

“Human decency?” He’d retorted cautiously. You shook your head, eyes squinting together as you eyed him incredulously. There was something off about him, but you hadn’t been able to place it.

“No, it’s…well, maybe. Umm, th-thank you.” He’d nodded, smiling down at you as he slowly stepped away, out from under the overhang and back out into the rain. For whatever reason you’d watched him go, and his eyes clung to your gaze as long as obstructions allowed until you disappeared from his view.

That was his favorite memory of you. Brought back to reality, he listened for the all-too anticipated elevator ding as he hid on the employment side of the mail wall, listening for the footsteps he recognized with eerie accuracy. You always checked your mail at midnight. The clap of your slippers against the marble made him smile, listening for the sound of your key ring as you shuffled for the correct one to unlock your mailbox, of which he was on the other side. Once your various bills and letters had been extracted from the box, it shut swiftly behind you, but it didn’t lock. You never locked the box, because by now you’d gotten used to his nightly letters- and you left replies on the backs. He waited a minute before he heard the sound of a deeply bothered sigh and the click of a gel tipped pen. Scribbles against paper, and the re-opening of the mail slot door. You’d left your reply. Without hesitation, the instant the box had been sealed he reached up from his seat on the floor and snatched the letter from the box. Turning it over to the side he hadn’t written on, he cherished every word as he read.

I’m not property

And he was the barista. He was only being friendly. No need to murder him like the last guy.

Yeah. I know about that.

You might think no one knows- but I know. I know it was you.

I could’ve reported you, I don’t know why I didn’t.

Yeah, the guy was an asshole, but murder is murder.

I’m not afraid of you, D

You might think you’re playing cat and mouse-

But I

Don’t

Scurry.

-Y/N

His face contorted into a heavy grin as he read over every line, admiring every swirl and curve of your letters. Something darkened in his eyes as he thought back to the man in the business suit who’d had the audacity to be rude to you. It had only taken a moment- one swift grip to his neck and he was out like a light. Sure, a slip of cyanide in his drink would’ve been easier- but there was something so satisfying in watching the life drain from his eyes, crumpling to a pile on the tile floor. Daniel smirked to himself as he stood, checking his watch again as he folded the note into his pocket. 12:03am. Sliding swiftly out from behind the reception desk and mail room, he glided out the front doors and down the street away, stopping only to observe the night manager rolling up to the apartment complex right on schedule. 12:04am.

His skinny jeans represented his soul most accurately, dark and torn beyond repair- his overcoat’s lapel turned up against the frigid breeze that picked up as he made his way across the street, staring up at your window once more and smiling to himself in a way most would find maniacal. Perhaps most found it that way because their safety was not guaranteed by him- he could guarantee only yours.

Oh, Y/N. If only you knew. You don’t ever have to be afraid of me, or scurry. The game of cat and mouse is not between you and me- it’s between me and anyone who gets in your way.

Yours Eternally,

A/N: Umm…I don’t really know what happened, or why this got lowkey out of hand?? ((spooky pre-halloween special oopsy)) I promise I don’t think Daniel’s a monster he’s literally an angel AAH DON’T COME FOR ME! I think I just wanted to do something different, everyone always makes these adorable and sweet imagines and I wanted to do something creepy so here you go. Idk if anyone will like this at all because it’s kinda different so idk :/ lemme know what you thought?? I already know y’all are gonna hate it oml why did I publish this

#why dont we #wdw #why dont we imagines #daniel seavey #jack avery #corbyn besson #jonah marais #zach herron #reactions #why dont we band #music #boy band #daniel seavey imagines #spooky imagines #alternate universe imagines #idk what happened with this or if anyone will even like it #is there even a demographic for spooky wdw fics???#lmao im the demographic probably

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junker-town · 5 years ago

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A Halloween candy draft, because we are a sports website

Photo by: Jeffrey Greenberg/Universal Images Group via Getty Images

Eight GMs. 24 picks. 1 ultimate candy haul.

Halloween is for everyone. Kids who want to trick-or-treat. Adults who want an excuse to wear costumes outside of Comic-Con. But especially for the candy lovers.

While children trade cuteness for the primary currency of their adolescent world, the childless among us must wait an extra 12 hours to profit. There’s no sweeter day in this world than November 1, where the racks and racks of sugary sweetness at grocery stores across the world become a distressed asset. All Saint’s Day is America’s gift to the gluttons, the beginning of a one week period where, if you play your cards right, you can purchase your body weight in Milky Ways for $15.

But which candy truly reigns supreme? That’s too big a question for just one person.

[Related: 17 last-minute Halloween costumes for sports fans in 2019]

About two weeks ago, a handful of SB Nation staffers threw down the gauntlet on breakfast cereals. A raging debate between honey vs. fruit vs. chocolate eventually exploded into a three-round draft where the world saw James Brady reign supreme with a lineup of Honey Nut Cheerios, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and Reese’s Puffs.

Brady, oat-loving coward that he is, decided to retire with his mantle intact. In his place, eight other SB Nation writers stepped into the void to create their three-candy roster. Now it’s time to dive back into that sugar mine for Halloween season. Here’s how it turned out.

Round 1

1. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups — Whitney Medworth

It’s Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Do I really have to explain it?

David (Fooch) Fucillo: How am I supposed to shit talk peanut butter cups? Who would NOT have this atop their big board?

Tom Ziller: Easiest No. 1 overall pick since Zion. Disks over novelty shapes.

2. Skittles — Matt Ellentuck

Best fruity candy. It’s obvious.

Fooch: Y’all will trash me for candy corn, but as Eric Stephen put it, taste the lame-bow. Skittles are a perfectly fine candy, but who the hell takes it No. 2 overall? I feel like this will turn into the Ryan Leaf of #2 picks. If you had to go with “fruit” candy, Mike & Ikes would have been my preferred choice, but even Starburst feels like a better choice.

James Dator: Skittles are so overrated it’s scary. They’re way too sweet and literally dissolve into sugar crystals.

Ziller: Jabari Parker went No. 2 over Joel Embiid and Skittles went No. 2 over Snickers. Wow.

3. Snickers — Caroline Darney

Look, I didn’t think Reese’s would fall to three, so I’m happy going with Snickers. Snickers is one of the few candy bars that doesn’t loose that...je ne sais quoi...when it’s fun sized, but it’s a grand slam if you get a full sized one of these bad boys in whatever plastic pumpkin/pillow case you’re carrying through the neighborhood. This is a classic, and sure, I’ll build a team around it.

Christian D’Andrea: Regular Snickers aren’t even the best candy in their own brand extension. Crispers. Almond. Peanut butter. ALL SUPERIOR

Ziller: Both a delicious candy and a workout for your jaw muscles. Win-win.

4. 100 Grand — Tom Ziller

100 Grand is a classic candy that is best served in fun size (hence why full-sized bars are split in half). A lot of different textures happening here. A lot of complexity.

D’Andrea: Ziller, in either an act of hubris or just not being on Slack for draft day, missed his picks in the first two rounds and played catchup later. His first pick was a brick of mud dipped in rice. Nestle Crunch and Milky Way were both still available. This was a terrible idea.

5. Kit Kat — Christian D’Andrea

The chocolate is pretty great, especially if you can get your hands on the European version. The wafers don’t taste like anything, they’re just there for wonderful texture and to provide something to break apart with your teeth if you’re a nervous weirdo like me. Bonus points if you can break the candy down to its basic components like a Hershey Park diagram before eating it.

Eric Stephen: Gimme a break!

D’Andrea: God dammit, Eric.

6. Candy corn — David Fucillo

I get dumped on for picking Candy Corn in the first round and you’d think I was the Jets drafting a fullback. Most of y’all will argue I reached in a big way, but it only takes one other person to ruin my Halloween. I don’t eat candy corn outside of October 1 to October 31, but for that one month, it is truly a delight. The only opinion that matters is that of my taste buds, and they demand candy corn every October.

Darney: This pick has big “took a kicker in the first round” energy.

Ellentuck: Candy corn is good and I’m here to stan it actually.

James Dator: Yeah, I thought Fooch was tanking the draft like @boring_as_heck used to ruin NFL mock drafts. I still think he might have. I refuse to believe that in the pantheon of candy any reasonable adult with their faculties would look at a list of confection delights and say “why yes, I would like this honey-flavored wax please.” While the overall abuse of candy corn has gone a little far and is the cool thing to do (like trashing pineapple on pizza) this is still an absolutely garbage pick that would have been a UDFA. This is a worthless, awful, horrible pick that absolutely nobody should applaud Fooch for. I still love you dude, and I’m not mad. I’m not even disappointed. I’m just bewildered.

Ziller: What are we doing here? Is Fooch taking edible vampire fangs in the second round? Is he actually going to pick something like raisins?

7. Twix — Eric Stephen

I was worried that with such a low pick that I would have to draft a lesser treat in the first round, but instead I was fortunate enough to have a Mount Rushmore candy fall into my lap. Twix provides a perfect crunch with the inner biscuit, coated with the best combination of caramel and chocolate in the candy universe. It usually gets dark earlier around Halloween, but houses that give out Twix are beacons of hope.

Darney: I’ll say it. Caramel Twix are trash. TEAM PB TWIX FOR LIFE.

Ziller: Good value pick.

8. Reese’s Pieces — James Dator

Thanks to someone picking Candy Corn in the first round I got a sleeper here. I’m not going to say something ludicrous like “Reece’s Pieces are better than Reece’s Cups,” but the drop off really isn’t that far. This is a No. 1 pick adjacent candy I’m thrilled to get with the 8th pick.

Fooch: I don’t hate Reese’s Pieces, but the peanut butter aspect of them is missing something. They’re the M&M version of the cups, but frankly it just doesn’t go together as well. M&M type candies are best as plain chocolate (down with peanut M&Ms!), and going PB with them, I just am not a fan.

Round 2

1. Starburst — James Dator

I was a little shook at this pick, to be honest. I was sure I was going to be able to go Twix-Reece’s Pieces with my back-to-back selections and walk away knowing I owned these noobs. Good pick by Eric, so I had to pivot.

Starburst was my top fruit candy on the board and paired nicely with my Pieces pickup. Every flavor of Starburst is good. They are the perfect size and have a good tail end for medium-length enjoyability.

D’Andrea: All the flavor of Fruit Stripe gum, only with an added 3 percent chance of pulling out a filling with each lemon piece you bite into.

Ziller: Half the flavors low-key suck. So in the fun-size two-candy edition, you have a decent chance of coming up empty. Decent overall candy, bad Halloween candy.

2. Peanut M&Ms — Eric Stephen

A tried and true classic, M&Ms in the fun-sized bag is the perfect amount. I chose the peanut variety over regular because I love the combo of peanuts and chocolate, and each M is a perfect bite. Though who are we kidding, I’m not putting just one of these in my mouth at a time.

Fooch: Outside of peanut butter, peanuts are just bad. Why ruin a good little piece of chocolate with them? Frankly, any candy with a peanut in it has just been ruined.

Ziller: Fooch’s comment here explains a lot about his draft.

D’Andrea: I think we all came away from this pick more worried about Fooch’s wellbeing than Eric’s actual selection.

3. Nestle Crunch — David Fucillo

I pondered a Hershey’s special dark bar here, but that ricey chocolate mix of the Crunch bar has been a favorite of mine all the way back to a childhood. A Hershey bar is great on its own, but the “crunch” of a Crunch bar is unmatched amongst chocolate bars. Outside of candy corn and Reese’s peanut butter cups, this was #3 on my big board.

Dator: I’m supposed to shit talk you, but I’m subverting our structure just to tell you that I’m proud you made a good choice here.

4. Crispy M&Ms— Christian D’Andrea

By far the superior breed of M&M. I don’t know why they don’t sell these in five gallon drums.

Ziller: M&Ms aren’t great, but at least they are versatile (add them to cookies, popcorn, ice cream sundae). You can’t really do that with Crispy M&Ms.

5. Hershey’s Special Dark — Tom Ziller

This was a panic pick after missing the live draft, but to justify it: these always go first in that variety bag with Hershey’s, Mr. Goodbar, and Krackel, right? There’s a reason: dark chocolate is delicious. Even Hershey’s dark chocolate.

D’Andrea: Were baking morsels unavailable? There’s a certain brand of old man strength here, picking a chocolate bar that also sounds like a six dollar bottle of rum.

6. Tootsie Roll Pops — Caroline Darney

There’s going to be some sass on this pick, but 1. don’t tell me you don’t still search to see if you got a wrapper with the star on it and 2. any song related to these slaps. Don’t @ me.

D’Andrea: The taste of going to the doctor to get shots as a child, wrapped around the 20-year-old sweets eternally stuck to the bottom of your grandmother’s candy jar. Truly a winning combination.

Dator: Take a trash candy and put a stick in it so it’s even less enjoyable. Sounds like a winning combo.

Ziller: I haven’t eaten one of these in 25 years and I can still taste the cotton swab that stays stuck to the Tootsie Roll in the middle. Bleh.

7. Mike & Ike — Matt Ellentuck

Second-best fruity candy. It’s obvious.

D’Andrea: The perfect “my stepdad let me buy candy at the Dollar Tree” selection.

Ziller: Hot Tamales without any flavor. What’s not to like?

8. Butterfinger— Whitney Medworth

I can’t believe Butterfingers were still available at this point in the draft. There is nothing better than a fun size butterfinger in your trick or treat bag. Crispety, Crunchety, peanut-buttery chocolate bar perfection.

Stephen: Butterfinger has a rich history as one of Earth’s greatest candy bars, but since the flavor change last year it tastes like rancid cockroaches.

Ziller: I got so mad I left Butterfinger on the table. First-round talent. This is why sports teams “prepare” and “do research” and “make big boards.”

D’Andrea: Butterfinger is great. Especially the way it adheres to every crevice in your teeth so you keep tasting it for hours afterward.

Round 3

1. Wild Berry Skittles— Whitney Medworth

First off, my prior two picks were Reese’s Cups and Butterfinger so this pick is to round out my team and add that extra kick of flavor necessary. The combo is too strong: Berry punch, Strawberry, Melon berry, Wild cherry, and Raspberry. No weak links. No green. No yellow. Just good.

D’Andrea: Congratulations on selecting the fifth-best version of Skittles. Each one is a tiny trip to Smoothie King, only without the smug satisfaction of babysitting a 40oz jug of “vitamins” the rest of the day.

2. Cookies and Cream Hershey’s — Matt Ellentuck

Regular chocolate is basic as hell, but the cookies and cream version is not basic as hell. It’s actually the perfect complement to fruity candies like umm... Skittles. Or Mike & Ikes.

Ziller: “Want a cookie? Too bad, here’s a piece of chocolate with fake cookie inside it.”

3. Nerds — Caroline Darney

Nerds are the perfect Halloween candy because it’s not one that you’d really ever buy for yourself. October 31 is like the only night you accumulate these little crunchy nubs of sugar, and eating them straight out of the tiny little box is truly one of life’s delights.

Ziller: Pop Rocks without fizz. Why not just drink corn syrup straight from the bottle?

4. Whoppers — Tom Ziller

Obviously, based on my draft, I like chocolate and chewy candy. Whoppers hits both marks! Also, my daughters hate them so this is free money for me on Halloween. I’ll be rich in Whoppers on Friday and I can’t wait.

D’Andrea: I can’t say anything bad about a candy they package in old milk cartons. Whoppers are ...fine. Better than 80 percent of the selections available? Nope.

5. Sour Patch Kids — Christian D’Andrea

Because some days my tongue can just go to hell. Midnight Milky Way and Baby Ruth were strongly under consideration here, but a strict sugary diet of only chocolate would be a wasted opportunity. Throw about 20 of these little guys into a cup, microwave it for about 10 seconds, and then to go work on the softened mess moments later. And then ignore the filmy coating of corn syrup that lasts on your teeth for days afterward.

Ziller: Make a meal of it with Cap’n Crunch and just completely destroy your mouth for a week. Sadist candy.

6. Sun Maid raisins — David Fucillo

Halloween may be about indulging, but why not have a sugary treat that offers excellent fiber?! I was that kid who loved a box of raisins and am perfectly comfortable with it. There was no way any of these heathens was taking raisins, and since we did not have a UDFA option, it made sense to ride it to the last round of the draft. It gives me a well-rounded Halloween bag of waxy, chocolate, and fruity — the perfect Halloween for me!

D’Andrea: I swear to god this pick was emailed to me in all caps from [email protected]. Which one of your grandchildren showed you how to use the internet, Fooch?

Dator: I take it back. I hate you so much, Fooch.

Ziller: Unbelievable. So like Werther’s Originals and peppermint candies were a little too adventurous for you? Love to eat a box full of the worst part of basic trail mix.

7. Krackel — Eric Stephen

Halloween is Krackel’s time to shine, since it’s just about the only time you can find the crispy deliciousness in regular stores. Don’t listen to the heathens: Krackel is wonderful, a Nestle Crunch with even more crunch. Krackel is the highlight of those Hershey variety packs.

D’Andrea: Exactly like Nestle Crunch, only worse! I’ve never seen this bar in non-mini form.

Ziller: Almost always the last chocolate candy remaining in any modern Halloween basket. It’s the mid-November desperation chocolate when all the good stuff is gone.

8. Baby Ruth — James Dator

I will get down on some Baby Ruth. You know what a Baby Ruth is? A Snickers for an adult. Instead of some pressed peanut sweepings you get whole-ass peanuts and its makeup is essentially identical. If someone says “I like Snickers, but I hate Baby Ruth” they’re either pedantic, a liar or a sleeper agent.

Also its wrapper is silver and I like shiny things because I am actually a bird.

Darney: It’s no surprise the candy bar that is used as a euphemism for a turd went last in the draft. Good pick, James.

Ziller: Good pick, though inferior to its close, more exotic cousin Almond Joy, which I can’t believe I didn’t pick in retrospect.

The final results?

So who had the best draft? Vote below so we can mercilessly mock the loser, who will almost certainly be Fooch.

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rannadylin · 7 years ago

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Time for a questionnaire meme

Tagged by @fangmich and it’s been a while since I did one of these so…why not!

Also I was just starting to type up my answers to these last night when a crazy thunderstorm hit and the power went out for over four hours. :-( Then this morning the internet was still out for a couple of hours after I got up, more aftereffects of the storm no doubt. So I might be tempting fate by again attempting to answer these but here we go anyway!

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people.

LAST:

1. Drink: Durance’s tea blend, Magran’s Fire! (Yesterday it was Eder’s Sun God Cider and it would have also been Kana’s Rauatai Sweet Pie but I am almost out of that because it’s so good. I have a reorder of it coming today, if the tracking info is correct…) 2. Phone call: Frontier support to report my internet being out. :-( (Fortunately I got a very nice customer service lady who took care of everything more swiftly than expected, and hey, internet’s back now!) 3. Text message: to my mother telling her I might be visiting her today if the internet didn’t come back on… 4. Song you listened to: Technically the Pillars of Eternity soundtrack while playing the game yesterday, but if we’re not counting that…my local radio station does this thing they call Bluegrass Wednesday where they play I Saw the Light to wake us all up on Wednesday mornings and that was going on while I drove to the grocery store. This week they played two versions and asked callers to vote – David Crowder which they usually use, and the original Hank Williams Sr version. 5. Time you cried: Probably at church? I tear up a lot at certain songs. Although usually not when I’m one of the ones playing them, so it would be one of the Sundays that the youth group worship team led the songs instead of Team Pastor’s Family (i.e. my mom on piano, my sister on drums, me on flute, plus an organist and some singers unrelated to us, plus my dad, the pastor, usually singing also).

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: I have not really dated someone once unless we count going steady in junior high and when you’re too young to actually go out somewhere with the boyfriend, I’m not counting it… 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: I’ve kissed no one, so, nope 8. Been cheated on: This is also beyond my experience 9. Lost someone special: Oh certainly. Two grandparents so far, and a few years ago a very dear friend who wasn’t a teacher, yet was a sort of teaching mentor to me in our state JCL (Latin club!). Here we are getting ready for the annual trip to JCL convention in a week (!!!) and it still hits me once in a while, when I see the state t-shirt from the last convention trip he was here for and so on. 10. Been depressed: I am fortunate to have not had to deal with clinical depression. Life has its ups and downs (getting diagnosed with diabetes five years ago was one of the lows for sure…) but I’ve never felt hopeless, stuck in a low that would never improve. Honestly my faith is a big part of this – God is my hope and comfort when life is overwhelming. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Alcohol, like dating, is beyond my experience. This is what life is when you grow up as a pastor’s kid with a pretty much lawful good alignment in RL. :-D

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12-14: PURPLE AND GOLD! Well, that’s JCL colors, anyway. Purple is one of my favorites, also dark green, and…for a third…well I think I have more handknit socks in the blue range than anything? I am very mardi gras here.

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: Sure! Mind you, I don’t tend to form deep friendships very often but I do form firendly acquaintances pretty easily. I’ve made friends on tumblr and with some Latin teachers I met at the conference I went to last month. 16. Fallen out of love: Not really sure I’ve ever really fallen in; see above re: dating. Crushes and falling out of crushes, certainly. 17. Laughed until you cried: I’m sure I have? Probably at family gatherings. I have goofy relatives. 18. Found out someone was talking about you: Hello, I teach high schoolers? They are always talking about me. I usually assume there’s a base level of complaining about grades or discipline going on (some of which the offended student makes sure I can hear, yay), but I’ve also been pleasantly surprised by people (a fellow teacher as well as friends of current students) in the past year telling me they’ve heard good things about my teaching. (Current students’ friends who said so are taking my class next year, I think…Yay!) 19. Met someone who changed you: Sure. E.g. I’ve grown a lot more confident from hanging out with my very outgoing (and bossy :-D) best friend (and fellow teacher until we both left that school within the last few years… 20. Found out who your friends are: I am not at all sure what this is asking. 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Nope, see above re: dating

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: I don’t generally make or accept friend requests unless I already know the person. Some are just acquaintances through work or the network of Latin teachers, or former students who were on trips to JCL convention with our group, etc. so I don’t often see them in person, but there’s only a handful I haven’t actually met at some point. 23. Do you have any pets: Alas, no, the apartment complex doesn’t allow pets. I had a cat at my last place but she went to live with my parents and she’s more my Dad’s pet than mine now. 24. Do you want to change your name: In true Anne Shirley fashion? :-) I used to be less content with my name than I am now. Now, I’m like whatever. 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: Taught? Probably? Was it even a weekday? 26. What time did you wake up: Around 7 today, eager to see if the power had come back on (it had!) and also the internet (it hadn’t!) 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Finally asleep by then, I think, after hours of waiting for power to come back on. 28. Name something you can’t wait for: Deadfire (Gotta agree with you on this one, @fangmich!) 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: On the way home from family trip to see Grandma on Monday 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: Not being diabetic would be swell! 31. What are you listening to right now: Silence 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Had a great student by that name years ago. 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: It was the lack of internet but now we’re good. Students interrupting class will ALWAYS get on my nerves though… 34. Most visited website: Definitely tumblr these days.

RANDOM INFO:

35. Mole/s: Nope 36. Mark/s: A few stray freckles? 37. Childhood dream: Teacher. Or writer. Went with the first, now I don’t have time to professionally pursue the second! 38. Hair color: Brown and ridiculously curly. Yes, curly is a color. 39. Long or short hair: Long 41. What do you like about yourself: I might actually sound pretty arrogant if I seriously started listing things. I’m just a “look on the bright side” sort of person and I like a lot of things about myself as an active choice. *shrug* Most of the things I’d list have to do with creativity – writing, knitting, fluting. 42. Piercings: None 43. Blood type: You know I should actually know this by now, huh? I know my most recent A1C (6.4, not bad for diabetic) but have no idea my blood type. 44. Nickname: Besides forms of my actual name? Well, students call me Magistra… (Latin for teacher) 45. Relationship status: Confirmed Old Maid :-) 46. Zodiac: Virgo 47. Pronouns: she/her (but actually I’m pretty fond of ipsa, and eadem gives me headaches as it does all Latin students…sorry sorry, I know this question is about gender but I see “pronouns” and I think of grammar and those chapters that throw all of the pronouns at the kids at once so we call it the Death By Pronouns unit...Look y’all, I’m female but also a grammarian. That’s right, my gender is Grammarian.) 48. Favorite TV Show: Don’t have an actual TV so I watch things on the Internet. Does Critical Role count? If not, I’ve also watched Doctor Who recently. 49. Tattoos: None 50. Right or left hand: Right 51. Surgery: Had a pilonidal cyst removed in my teens. 52. Hair dyed in different color: Never. I do not mess with my hair. The curls would take revenge. 53. Sport: Marching Band totally counts and apart from that I am the least sporty of humans. 55. Vacation: Would love to spend it in Italy more often (yay Latin teaching perks) if I can get enough students to go. Otherwise – JCL convention! And other school-related trips… 56. Pair of trainers: Skechers? Does that count?

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: Like right now? I…had a muffin and yogurt and strawberries for breakfast? Lunch is TBD. 58. Drinking: I am a water drinker (so I guess I don’t write poetry) but also, lots of tea! And recently I have started drinking coffee (gasp!) because Mom has been providing coffee & breakfast for our Sunday School class and I enjoyed the coffee that first Sunday so I guess she has corrupted me now. 59. I’m about to: Catch up on everything I missed (tumblr, the Deadfire Q&A, etc.) while the internet was out. 61. Waiting for: My Adagio tea order with the rest of my Pillars of Eternity tea samples and a reorder of Kana’s and Iselmyr’s delicious blends! 62. Want: A teaching salary that makes it more likely I could afford to actually retire someday? 63. Get married: Used to assume I would, but see above re: Confirmed Old Maid – I’m content with being single, these days. A potential spouse would have to be pretty awesome to outweigh how fond I’ve grown of my solitude. 64. Career: I’m content with classroom teaching, most of the time. Not really interested in administration. Doubtful I could make a living as a writer, especially with my insurance needs nowadays. In my first teaching job, I was certain I’d be there till I retired. Then they had budget cuts and I had to switch schools if I wanted (I did!) to keep teaching Latin. Second job was burnout waiting to happen – after five years I switched to my current school, and once again I could see myself retiring here. If, of course, my deadbeat pancreas and I can afford that.

WHICH IS BETTER:

65. Hugs or kisses: Hugs have a wider appeal, but see above re: dating/kissing status, so I’m not really one to speak to this 66. Lips or eyes: Eyes 67. Shorter or taller: Shorter, I guess, for I am short and am not really as amused by height differences as most of tumblr appears to be? 68. Older or younger: At my age I’m not sure it matters so much 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: WELL you know that post celebrating Aloth’s arms… 71. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive. Loud would totally fail to outweigh my fondness of solitude. Introvert here needs her quiet time, please. 72. Hook up or relationship: Relationship 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: Hesitant, I guess?

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a Stranger: No 75. Drank hard liquor: No 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: In all my years of glasses…probably? Not that I recall? 77. Turned someone down: Yes 78. Sex on the first date: Wouldn’t if given the opportunity 79. Broken someone’s heart: Unlikely 80. Had your heart broken: My heart has generally avoided the risks that would lead to breaking, see above re: Old Maid 81. Been arrested: No 82. Cried when someone died: Of course 83. Fallen for a friend: …Temporarily? Never went anywhere

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: To an extent – I mean, I know my limits. 85. Miracles: Absolutely 86. Love at first sight: Not my style but I’m sure it happens 87. Santa Claus: I like stories but I know they’re stories… 88. Kiss on the first date: Probably not

OTHER:

90. Current best friend name: Amanda! (Which is Latin for She Who Must Be Loved and it’s true) 91. Eye color: I’d like to say Grey but I think they’re more of greyish Blue. 92. Favorite movie: Star Wars. Or The Princess Bride. Or Lord of the Rings.

I’m going to just leave this with an open tag instead of naming anyone. If you want to answer these, go for it and tag me so I can get to know you better too!

#from the desk of ranna #memes

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