#whatever. so much change has happened in the past year that now I am addicted to it and am acting very boldly so who knows what can happen

[hoes4hoseok]

how you get the girl part i: nightwing’s guardian angels

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your neighbor, heeseung, gets on your nerves. he’s full of himself, makes more noise than all of your neighbors combined in the middle of the night, spreads anti-superhero propaganda in your political science class, and, unfortunately, is the most attractive man you have ever laid eyes on.

pairing :: lee heeseung x fem!reader featuring :: jake sim, jeon somi, kim sunoo, and more! genres/au’s :: superhero au, neighbors to lovers, enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, angst if you squint, nightwing!heeseung chapter warnings :: mentions of and references to sex, minor violence, suggestive chapter word count :: 3k tag list (open!) :: @thejjrl @grace1852 @tsunchani @hanniiesuckle17 @mjr4fnaf1997 @goldenhypen @3nh4luvr @hobistigma @ditzy-e @nomy0520 @woniewhite @koroktsuya author’s note :: prior knowledge of nightwing and DC comics is not necessary to read this work! also ty to @lethekoo for all your help :) playlist :: here’s to you

so…long time no see ('_') honestly i really never thought i’d return to this as of a few months ago, but my new writing class really has me feeling motivated! so i’m back :) i find it really funny that this chapter was supposed to come out march 31st of last year but HEY at least i’m back 🤧 anyways, i changed the prologue a little bit so you might wanna look over it again before reading this but TY TY TY FOR READING LOVE YA

1. Sincerity It matters what you do when you don’t think she’s looking. She can tell whether or not your heart is in the right place.

TWO DAYS LATER…

Heeseung was tired. It was 6 am. He had only just gotten home. His body ached from the particularly strenuous night, and yet all he could think about was 1. having to go to class again in a matter of hours and 2. the fact that someone was knocking on his door at the crack of dawn. “Be there in a second,” Heeseung groaned, peeling his suit off before quickly pulling on his pajamas.

Heeseung winced a little seeing Y/n standing at his door from the peephole. He was in no mood to be reprimanded, let alone interrogated. The whole ‘pretend you’re having sex’ cover was Jake’s idea, of course—and it was not working. It just gave his prickly neighbor a reason to be mad at (and potentially suspicious of) him. 

Seriously, he had stamina, but not that damn much.

Which is why he needed a new cover as soon as possible. And why he needed to open the door right that second.

“I know, I know, no sex, no fun, whatever,” he puffed as the door swung open.

Y/n smiled, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Oh, it’s alright, I slept fine,”

He could tell she hadn’t slept a wink. The circles under her eyes were the biggest giveaway. Nevertheless, she was fully dressed, woolen hat in her hand. Why was she lying?  

She wanted something. 

Heeseung had two options: turn her away and get some sleep, risking being reported (as she threatened every night but never seemed to do), or help her. He chose the latter. His brain would hate him for it later.

“Okay…so what do you want? Why are you knocking at this hour?” He asked, rubbing his shoulder.

Y/n met his gaze. Heeseung could tell from her hesitance that he was the last person she wanted to talk to right now. But alas, here she was.

“Do you happen to have a printer in your apartment?”

Heeseung heaved a sigh of relief upon realizing that the task didn’t require leaving his apartment or donating a pint of his blood (it’s happened before!) “Yeah, I do,”

“Do you mind if I use it real quick?” Y/n scooted straight past him, “The print center doesn’t open for an hour and I need to get this draft to the Scoop before then,” she explained, looking around the room cautiously. Honestly, for a woman who thought her neighbor was a sex addict, Heeseung didn’t blame her for expecting his place to be something of a sex dungeon.

“Sure,” he closed the door behind her, “just send me the file on my school email,”

“Thanks. I already did,” Heeseung tilted his head in amusement at her confidence, “I was really counting on you letting me use your printer, I knew you had one. Figured you owed me a night of your sleep,” Y/n grinned as she walked around the room.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he replied, opening his laptop as he stood by his desk, “I’m sorry, it’s just that we usually can’t meet at her place.”

Y/n froze in place, turning her head toward the man with a smirk on her face. “Hold on…‘her’ singular?”

“Yup, my girlfriend,” Heeseung looked up briefly to confirm before looking back to his computer, “she lives with her dad, so that makes it kind of hard to spend time at her place,”

Heeseung’s jaw tensed up. He didn’t like bending the truth, but it came with the job.

“Ooh, exciting! What’s her name?” Y/n inquired, scurrying over to Heeseung as he received the printout.

“None of your business, hon’” Heeseung sneered, placing the freshly printed article against her chest. “Anyways, debt repaid. Take it,”

Y/n groaned, “you’re no fun. It’s like our late-night exchanges mean nothing to you,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Heeseung sighed sarcastically, “I appreciate it so much when you look for an excuse to talk to me every night!”

Y/n blinked repeatedly in surprise. Fuck. Heeseung messed up. Was she offended?

To his relief, Y/n just scoffed as she walked past him. “Well, thanks anyways,”

“Anytime,” Heeseung replied as he turned around, “...but not really. Don’t come again unless I owe you another favor,”

“I don’t plan on it. See you in class. And please, don’t leave right at the beginning again, or else we’ll have to hear the ‘importance of attendance’ speech for the second time in the week,”

It took every shred of Heeseung’s willpower to not make a smart remark about how Y/n wanted to see him again, but he resisted. It would have been overcompensating.

Y/n was thrilled to hear about this new development in the Lee Heeseung saga—he had a girlfriend! This meant he had sex with the same girl for hours every night and this mystery girlfriend managed to arrive and leave without being seen by the neighbors. Impressive! She couldn’t wait to tell Somi. So, she didn’t. 

“He has a girlfriend?!” Somi exclaimed, sipping her morning coffee, “That’s insane!” 

The two of them met at the coffee shop outside Y/n’s building before class whenever they woke up early enough. Honestly, it wasn’t a common occurrence.

“Well, it’s not that insane, considering that the moans sound pretty similar every night,” Y/n reasoned, taking a bite of her bagel, “I guess I thought he had a super specific type? Now that I say it out loud, I’m surprised the girlfriend thing didn’t cross my mind earlier,”

Somi shrugged, “nope. The man seems like a fuckboy. I don’t blame you for jumping to conclusions. It’s not like you spread rumors about him,”

“True, I’m innocent,” Y/n let out an awkward laugh.

“So,” Somi rubbed her hands together in anticipation before picking up the small packet on the table, “how’s your advice piece going?”

“I came up with an idea!” Y/n beamed with pride, “I’m gonna write about five ways to win a woman’s heart. Or ‘get the girl’. They both sound a little misogynistic, but I’ll make it work,”

Somi waited a moment before replying, “...is that all you’ve got? A number?”

“Well, I have one idea that I wrote about for the first draft that I submitted today,” Y/n explained, “I tried to make it as universal as I could,”

“Go on, read it,”

“Sincerity,” she summarized the page she had typed, “none of the following tips matter unless you’re sincere. Women can tell if you’re just trying to do something to get in their pants—it’s imperative that you do these things because you care,”

“Well, it’s certainly true,” Somi nodded, “wording needs some adjustment, but good work,”

“My essay is already kicking my ass, having you in the mix will not help,” Y/n threw a playful punch at her friend’s shoulder. “Now tell me about the real article here. Got any new stuff on Nightwing?” 

“Nothing from the source himself, obviously,” Somi sighed, “I was kidding myself to think I could get a word in with him. I’m not even awake when he’s out. He was patrolling this morning from 3 AM to 5 AM according to the Nightwing subreddit,”

“You should pull an all-nighter next weekend,” Y/n joked, “maybe then you’d get him,”

“I really would if I didn’t have responsibilities to take care of during the day,” Somi groaned, “this article could make or break my career,”

“Well, what do you have?” Y/n asked, “We can start somewhere other than his personal account,”

Somi straightened up, opening her notebook on the coffee table, “I did find some info on the guy who wrote the slander article,”

“Ooh, okay,”

“Apparently, ‘Patrick Lumbard’ isn’t his name—I can’t find his real one yet, but I looked him up in the city records and there was nothing,” Somi wiggled her eyebrows, “but, according to the Scoop’s records, he got fired from his last job, yet he’s writing front-page articles after four months of being here!” 

“Watch out Lois Lane, here comes Jeon Somi,” Y/n giggled. “Nice job!”

“And here's the kicker—I looked up a digital archive of a 2003 article about our new boss, Mr. Kim, last week,” the blonde explained, “I took notes on it, but that doesn’t mean much because the article is gone. It isn’t in the records or online,”

“What?” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows as she took the last bite of her bagel.

“Yeah, I can't see why,” Somi continued, frustration seeping through her voice, “the article was pretty neutral; it just described his acquisition of an abandoned Wayne Enterprises project,”

“Weird. Wayne Enterprises is a little fishy if you ask me,” Y/n lied back in her chair, finishing off her drink. “Keep me posted. Good luck,”

“Of course,” Somi smiled, grabbing the trash from the table and tossing it in the bin beside her, “But I think you’ll need the luck for class with Heeseung,”

“You see, these vigilantes, particularly this Nightwing guy, is doing nothing for Bludhaven,” the professor claimed, removing his glasses, “they spread fear and undermine our police,”

Y/n took pride in the fact that typically, her professors liked her. Sure, sometimes her grades wavered, but she was a well-favored student. But then, in a way-too-hot room with 30 students all facing the center, that track record was at risk.

“I disagree,”

Jake. Before Monday, Y/n had never expected him to be in this class—but she had never been happier to hear his voice than now.

“Well…this is a discussion,” the man replied, “explain your stance, Mr. Sim,”

“I think he’s helping us out,” Jake shrugged. “Sure, ideally, we wouldn’t need him to save us every night, but we do. Before Nightwing got here, this city wasn’t safe for any of us,”

Whew. And Y/n didn’t have to say a word! 

“How do we know that he has our best interest at heart?”

“That’s a good point, young man,” Professor Jung pointed towards the seat adjacent to Jake’s where…Lee Heeseung sat. Of course. As if Y/n didn’t have enough reasons to dislike him. Screw him and his t-shirt for knowing the professor would crank the heat up way too high. What was even worse is that he did have a point.

“We don’t know,” Y/n piped in, the already hot room feeling even more stuffy as she stared lasers into Heeseung, “But look at Gotham and how much Batman has improved the overall safety and morale of the city—maybe it’s worth the risk if Nightwing could do something similar here,”

“People being above the power of law enforcement is dangerous,” Heeseung countered, staring right back at the woman across from him. 

‘Hold on…was that a condescending smirk on his face? Right now?’ Y/n was pissed. The lack of sleep was catching up to her.

“Yeah but—” Y/n cut Jake off before he could even start.

“The rich already are,” Y/n scoffed, “and if law enforcement can’t serve us all, maybe heroes that do are exactly what we need,”

“And with that, our discussion comes to a close,” Professor Jung interjected, “we started too late to have a full-blown debate, sorry about that. Great job, everyone,”

Y/n was proud of herself for countering the word of the professor and formulating her argument so fast. She could not, however, understand what she did that was so worthy of ridicule that Jake started giggling the moment class was dismissed.

The nap. It was the best part of Y/n’s day ever since Lee Heeseung and his girlfriend started having sex in her building. Even if she wished it could restore her life free of consequences, it could not. 

The first problem it brought was that she always woke up feeling like she had just gotten off a 10-hour flight. The better the nap was, the more this rang true.

And, as expected, the second consequence was that it made her sleep schedule even more irregular than it already was. Usually, when she couldn’t sleep later in the night because of Heeseung, Y/n would put in her earbuds and hope for the best. But on the nights that she snuck in a nap? Hopeless.

Tonight was one of those nights. The lights were off, the moans were louder than ever, and she was wide awake. Somehow, knowing Heeseung had a girlfriend made the noise even more unbearable. A little. She wouldn’t be able to tell you why if you asked. Regardless, she needed air.

Usually, Y/n would have been smart enough to not go walking alone in the middle of the night in Bludhaven. She’s no idiot. But she had pepper spray and a fairly strong taser on hand. She was going to be fine. (I promise!)

There’s something about nighttime in Bludhaven that Y/n found so special. It was unsafe in areas, certainly, but every once in a while, the night felt like one that a synth-pop album would be written about. Somehow, it made her miss her family and friends back home while making her feel glad to be right where she was at the same time. On nights like these, she would get a coffee and go for a short stroll—usually with Somi.

“Hi, can I get a small decaf coffee? Two sugars, two creamers?”

Brenda’s Cafe. Best coffee in New Jersey. Open 24 hours (now that Nightwing is around).

“Sure, coming right up,” The barista smiled, taking the cash from your hand and heading to the back.

“RING, RING!”

Y/n scrambled to reach her phone, “Hello?”

“Y/n! How’s it going?”

“Sunoo,” the woman grinned as she paced around the cafe, “hi! How’d you know I was awake?”

“Eh, figured it was worth a shot with the whole neighbor problem I keep hearing about—you have the sleep schedule of a cat who works full-time now,”

Sunoo and Y/n had known each other since middle school. Now, Sunoo was working on a movie on the opposite coast. It was difficult to time their calls with his packed schedule, to say the least.

“Yeah,” Y/n replied with an amused tone, “How are you? How are your fancy schmancy show-biz friends?”

“Well, I certainly made some more,” Sunoo began, “the cast of this movie is hilarious and they take me out to dinner all the time, so we’re getting closer,”

“Yes, I love to hear it!” Y/n exclaimed, grabbing her coffee from the barista’s hand and giving a nod of thanks before heading toward the exit.

“And how’s the hot snickerdoodle neighbor?”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she pushed the door open, “I called him hot one time. And that was before I knew he was a jerk…that had a girlfriend,”

“Girlfriend, huh?” Y/n could hear Sunoo’s misplaced pity through the phone. “That sucks,”

“No, it does not suck,” she insisted, adjusting her scarf, “I’m fine. Besides, you know that I’m trying to graduate this semester. That’s the only reason I haven’t reported the guy,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sunoo dismissed her, “still sucks,”

Y/n rolled her eyes. He was not going to let this go. “Anyways, how is your sist—WOAH!”

Y/n’s phone and coffee flung out of her hand as she was firmly pushed towards the road, nearly falling to the ground if it wasn’t for another force pulling her back by the jacket.

Y/n paused for a moment in disbelief. What the fuck just happened? 

“Y/n?” the woman heard Sunoo’s voice coming from her phone quietly between the sounds of footsteps getting further and further away. 

Her phone was safely lying on the side of the road. Her coffee? Not so much. It had spilled everywhere. Including her new coat. But as thoughts raced through Y/n’s head, her coat was the furthest thing from it. ‘Someone pushed me because they were being chased…by someone who took the time to save me,’

Her disbelief quickly turned to excitement as she put the pieces together. Could the person who saved her have been Nightwing? 

“Y/n, what happened? Are you okay? Do I need to call Somi?”

Y/n scrambled to her retrieve her phone, “I’m fine! I’ve gotta run, but I’ll explain everything tomorrow,”

“Wait, hold o—”

“Bye!”

She thought about calling Somi right that second, but she needed confirmation. So she made the questionable decision to follow them. Somi’s reporter instincts were clearly rubbing off on her.

After walking with a comical level of caution for a few minutes, Y/n decided to turn back. As I said before, Y/n is not an idiot. She makes educated choices. 

What. A. Night. She was eager to tell Somi—despite the fact that she’d criticize Y/n’s poor educated choices, she would be happy too. 

All of a sudden, interrupting her train of thought, Y/n heard a whistle from across the road. 

There he stood, in all his blue and black glory—Nightwing.

A skin-tight black suit with blue accents adorned his tall frame and he had a pair of nunchucks in his right hand, which he tucked away before placing a cup of coffee on the ground next to him.

This was a moment that Y/n would remember for years to come. But right now, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Nightwing, the man responsible for taking down the biggest supervillains and mobs in Bludhaven…bought her a coffee. She waved to him in gratitude, to which he waved back with a smile on his face before disappearing into the shadows.

After he left, Y/n rushed over to retrieve the coffee cup, her heart racing with elation.

Brenda’s Cafe Start your day with a smile! decaf coffee two sugars two creamers

1. Sincerity Do things she appreciates because it’s the right thing to do for someone you really like as a person. It matters what you do when you don’t think she’s looking. She can tell whether or not your heart is in the right place.

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[alexandraswords]

Sponsor Suggestion

I've been to therapists, treatment centers, detox centers, rehab, myofascial release therapists, readers, doctors, psychiatrists, psychics and hypnosis specialists. Not only am I an alcoholic, but for the past 17 years have also been lucky enough to have been battling a losing war with a massive Eating Disorder. I started out starving and was anorexic for the first two years of the ED career, then it transitioned into bulimia. Similar to AA when they say "One drink is too many and 1,000 is never enough.", well, with bulimia "One bite is too many and all the food in the world is never enough.

Anyway, I started going to AA reluctantly, but pleasantly surprised. Eventually I got a Sponsor. I knew I wanted her as my sponsor as soon as I met her. When I first asked her she said I needed a few more meetings, we exchanged numbers and I would get a daily text from her and reply immediately. She reminds me of a female version of Sam Elliot, a total independent bad-ass who happens to be a recovered addict/alcoholic of 33 years. I wanted whatever she had. About a week after texting and going to her Thursday women's group after our A Club 5:30 meeting, One morning I got a call from her asking if I was going to the noon meeting that day and if I drove. I said I sure am, but nope... no driving for me. She informed me she was gonna pick me up and we were gonna have a chat... Fuck. What did I do?

She picked me up after the meeting and we talked. And talked, and talked. She wanted to get to know me. Know my story. "What I used to be like, what happened, and what I'm like now." I got to know a bit about her and felt so much relief. She was a bible thumping, jesus juice toting praise god Recovered Alcoholic. She was exactly what I needed.

That day she gave me my first suggestion, one that her sponsor gave to her. Every day write "Drinking Dumb Idea." 25 times, along with "Binging Dumb Idea." and "Purging Dumb Idea" 25 times each as well.

It sounded monotonous and time consuming (a whole 12 minutes -_-) but I figured why not, I've tried everything else.

Prior to this suggestion I can't even remember the last time I went a day without binging and purging. Quitting alcohol was easy in comparison to letting go of my initial and longest lasting and strongest vice. I felt like a liar in the meetings claiming I went another day without drinking but knowing I could go home and binge and purge, use another substance in a way. I felt like I was cheating. I was still using something to ignore what actually was going on, to avoid the discomfort. I was exhausted. My face was so swollen all the time, my throat was raw and blistered, and even with a broken back, that didnt keep me from being hunched over in discomfort in the bathroom to rid myself of "my badness". So, I tried her suggestion.

That was 25 days ago. I haven't binged or purged in 25 fucking days. My mind was blown, the first two days I was terrified beyond belief. But for some reason reminding myself of how fucking stupid I was being, how miserable I had been trying to fight this thing off by myself and not trying anything new, admitting this worked was self defeating, but also extremely relieving. I felt hope, pride, and joy for the first time in a long time.

I finally realized, along with trying something new to change my drinking, I had to do the same with my eating disorder even though it was absolutely terrifying. What could it hurt? A few days of discomfort? Like, come on. More than half of my life has been daily fucking discomfort, misery and apathetic.

I'm grateful for being open to taking suggestions now, even though initially apprehensively and inevitably me finally caving into the suggestion because in the back of my mind I know how desperate I am to try anything to be better.

So if you're trying to tackle any of your super fun or super fucked up character defects. Maybe try the 25x list. I think My next one to start might be "smoking dumb idea" or "Fear Dumb Idea", or maybe "Resentment Dumb idea" or "Plotting my exes and enemis demise, dumb idea"... kidding, sort of. But anything your trying to let the fuck go of, beat the shit out of a notebook with these nasty little gremlins driving you to fucking insanity by telling yourself and them that they're dumb fucking ideas, 25 time a day, at a time... and hell sometimes I even need to remind myself morning, noon, and night. Lets just say my hand is getting some serious PT and a boot-camp course in penmanship.

[srlkiller]

Have you ever thought that maybe ur more sick than u think and maybe it’s actually u that’s the issue… might be something to think about

OK SO i hav a million asks in my inbox but this 1 is so beyond ignorant & passive aggressive for quite literally no reason bc why are u so invested in my life for…? lmao.

have u ever thought that maybe u don’t actually know me or anything that’s going on in my real life.. whether it is the shit that i am currently going through (which is numerous forms of abuse by my parents) or all of the things that have happened in my past.. im talking about in REAL LIFE. bc this is the internet.. a literal blog site where i randomly type things whenever im either really heated or bored as shit. n that’s rare now. this year n probably last year too i posted rants like.. give or take, every like… 3-6 months (if that). so u either got this whole image, ideology & ‘persona’ of me from a blog site.. or the very very few sporadic Insta stories i post which are mainly songs i like, memes or funny vids reposted? lmao.. i don’t post on my own Insta anymore. i literally only use youtube or zeus network now & i actually hav a private tumblr that only i can see. this 1 doesn’t get used, u must hav missed wen i posted about that :(( anyone who knows me/has known me irl.. or has been following me for a while knows that im a very open person.. & ive been open for YEARS on this dumb ass blog (which clearly ur privy too… bc u read my posts n lurk my page lmao 🫠)the whole “have u ever thought that ur ‘more sick than u think” is such an ignorant fucking statement. like.. i know exactly what is ‘wrong’ w me & im actually perfectly fine as long as i do not get triggered by certain people in my environment (which is the issue at hand among others with that same individual & other family). as ive aged & gone through so much these past 5/6 years i have grown & evolved so much as a person that whatever ‘persona’ you seem to have of me being ‘sick’ doesn’t exist today… unless you’re referring to my physical health issues? then yes ive been sick these past 2 weeks & do get ‘physically sick’ quite often due to my chronic severe physical health conditions.

ive been more than transparent (probably too transparent tbh) on here as well as my Instagram for many many years about my mental health issues + physical health issues. all of my conditions/disorders are chronic conditions that i have to live & deal w for the rest of my life.. so things like 4eva tryna find the right treatments for EVERY condition, spending thousands on operations, doctors, specialists, hospitals, medications that don’t work or give you awful side effects, meds that do work but cost hundreds, meds that are addicting with no warning from the doctors ect ect but the biggest thing of all is simply just tryna function each day like a normal human being whilst being in a very toxic environment with zero support, love or care from those who are supposed to nurture & protect you. so yeah sometimes i do get fucking angry, frustrated n upset about that shit n just wanna rant on here about my feelings. there are certain things i share on here wen i hav no one else 2talk too.. im an only child & hav gone thru sm shit with past ‘friends’ & exs in such a short amount of time i could truly write a whole book or movie script on it all. but instead i write things on here. it made me go absolutely crazy then turn into a total paranoid recluse. it was a soul destroying experience but one of the most powerful life lessons to be able to learn. it made me who i am today n changed me completely.

BUT- n real life tho.. you really do not know my situation.. you do not know me.. & you do not know what i deal with on a daily fucking basis. id love to see u try n live even jus a day as me irl...u would 100% neck urself before the day was even over. im not stupid.. i research everything when it comes to my conditions & diagnosis’s. i also studied psychology & did a major in forensic psychology while doing a bachelor of law & justice. ive studied the DSM-5, done every kind of therapy & treatment plan you can imagine. ive been in treatment since i was like 11/12. i understand myself very well. the mental health conditions that i have are a direct result of childhood trauma & several kinds of abuse by my parents from childhood all the way up to now.. if u are that interested in me & my life then perhaps u should google all of those conditions & do some research on them to gain a better understanding of the hows, why’s & whats. that’s called knowledge baby, u should gain some🖤 & perhaps u should consider going straight to the actual source… whatever it is u wanna know, just ask me.

what’s super interesting is that i took my tumblr link off my Insta a long time ago so it’s like bro.. did you just memorise my tumblr name so u can keep coming back to the page to lurk then send me a sassy little message to jab at me every couple months …. orrrr do you follow me but ur really that pussy that you put ur shit on anonymous? tbh both options are pitiful & just scream.. U A BITCH. people like you are all bark.. n no bite. it’s giving stalkerish fan vibes… this has been going on for like over a year now.. maybe even longer, idek. why not come off ANONYMOUS tho? why not just dm me if u feel so strongly about the issue n are so invested in this shitshow? u seem to hav a lot to say to me n id LUV to hear it! u got some suggestions for me? u got the answers? suggestions for self help books? shiiiiid… we could even talk on the phone if u want? u got FaceTime on yo fone?

if u don’t hav my Insta I’d b happy to giv it to you.. jus send me some asks on anonymous u know how to do that. looking forward to hearing back from u & getting to know u better! hope i quenched ur thirst xxx

[ilalos]

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

Tag list:

@alaizaaa02

@awesomebooklover17

[roscgcld]

HEADCANON + GOJO SATORU || the gojo twins

request: HELLO^^ so I’ve been wondering this so long but do you think it would even be possible if Gojo had a twin sister that also has the sixth eye ? Probably not but, I’d kinda want to know what the clans higher ups and curses react to 2 sixth eye user.

note: I am glad I am not the only one thinking about this lol. like what if they were two gojos? absolute chaos the world has ever seen. i love it, this entire prompt lives in my head rent free lol

pronouns: she/her

gojotwins!au masterlist

imagine the other clan’s reactions when they learn that not one, but two of the gojo clan’s newest heirs were born with the highly coveted Six Eyes?

gojo satoru and y/n - the newest members of the gojo clan, twins that are born with the Six Eyes. a first case that has ever happened in the family’s history. it was this monumental moment when the higher ups realise that things are going to be interesting

by the way - you’re the older twin lol. just so you can poke jabs at gojo for the rest of your life by using the line. “i’m the older sibling here!”

“only by like, two minutes!”

that being said though, over-protective twin brother who will scare all your boyfriends/girlfriends the first time they meet because of his height and overly nice personality that scares people even more

you’re just as bad though - if any girl or guy walks out of his room after a night of fun you will probably be a little bitch and make them feel awkward until gojo wakes up

“can’t you be a little nicer to them?” gojo groans after the person he slept with last night quickly left after an awkward cup of morning coffee with you. “I actually liked them a lot.”

but it’s all done with love, and if the other realise their significant other makes them happy, they will back off

the moment you two entered jujutsu tech, then yaga-sensei was about to hand in his retirement slip early with the sheer chaos that his year of students were bringing him 

ieiri was delighted that she wasn’t going to be the only girl at school; geto was amused how you two were basically copy and paste of each other, just in different genders

surprisingly enough, think you’d be the one who’d be the more studious and definitely more interesting in learning how to hone your skills better - gojo probably still has this ‘i am the strongest’ mentality that the elders planted in him because ✨misogyny✨

but he loves to compete with you - and you’re the only one who’d he ever admit defeat to, and will defend your honour whenever the elders talk down on you because you’re a girl. and to them, girls are just meant to be ‘a pretty face with strong genes to bring a strong generation into the world’

he’s probably the one who talked your elders out of arranging a marriage between you and an heir to another important family like the kamo clan - because there is no way in hell is he going to let some random ass man take you away from him

probably joking told you that if all else fails, to marry geto on the spot - and let’s be honest here, who wouldn’t? Geto looks so damn fine both the anime and especially in the Gojo Past Arch. rail me daddy-

*cough cough*

anyway - ever since that comment, geto and you might pretend to flirt with each other to get gojo riled up. playfully brushing your hand along his arm, playing with his hair between your fingers whenever you two talk, geto leaning close to you to whisper something in your ear with a smirk, or him resting his hand around your waist whenever he leads you about

it always gets gojo riled up, and he’d get in between the both of you; whining for you to give him attention instead

you probably sneak into his room, even as you got older, to hide in his arms whenever you have a nightmare - and he’d wordlessly just hold you close and cuddle you to sleep again no matter how old you two are

both of you share the same braincell - same reactions, expressions, and sometimes even finishing each other’s sentences. sometimes you two even say the same thing at the same time, to which you two just high five each other with a laugh 

freaks everyone out a little, since it’s just so random and natural for the both of you to do it 

nanami hates it whenever he has to accompany you two - as his senpais, he can’t complain much. he does learn a lot, yet at the same time, he can’t stand it when the both of you are sent on a mission together 

with you he’s fine; but he barely tolerates gojo 

ijichi loves you, since you compliment him on the smallest of things, or smile at him warmly whenever he does something right; may have a crush on you that he refuses to reveal to anyone

both of you probably have shopping trips every weekend; don’t tell me you two don’t splurge on clothing when you two can charge whatever it is you want to the gojo clan account 

you two probably got a lot of those roadside modelling offers - and sometimes you’d probably even joke about leaving the whole jujutsu world behind to become a model instead

“i mean - it pays. and all i need to do is sit and look pretty.”

a lot of ‘did not!’ and ‘did too!’ arguments all day long 

you two love to taunt the Curses together before you kill them - it makes them only more scared, but the ‘chase more fun’

“say, toru - it looks so weak for a semi-first, no?”

“must be a new born - how pathetic.”

bags of candies all over the place - somehow he got you addicted to candy as well, so whenever you two travel, you always buy different candies and different treats 

when geto betrayed you all in your third year, gojo turned to you as his pillar of familiarity; even more so when he was force to kill his best friend a few years later. the both of you leaned on each other as you start to pick the pieces of yourselves once more

both you and your brother share the same idea of changing the jujutsu world from the inside out, so you two decided to take up teaching together under the command of now principal yaga

poor man is deciding if he now regrets accepting both of your applications 

you took in megumi as your own by the way - so megumi respects you a lot since you’re like the mother he never had. but at the same time, he wouldn’t be surprise if he heard that you do something stupid with your twin brother

feel like gojo and you will spend your free time probably trying to unlock more secrets of the Limitless and how to use your Six Eyes better - and Gojo will teach you how to probably use Hallow Purple and how to use Reverse Cursed Techniques with the held of ieiri as well

you took in maki, inumaki and even panda as your own kids as well - teaching them whenever gojo is forced to go and solve some issue the higher ups throw at him; making the kids super protective of you

even when yuta came, you didn’t care about the special grade curse that was stuck inside of him; treating him like an actual person and training him up and build his confidence once more

when you heard what happened to the special-grade cursed object that megumi was tasked on taking the following year, you laughed your ass off for 10 minutes while megumi tried not to show his annoyance

“y/n-sensei, i almost died. it is not funny.”

but you still took yuji in as your own child, and when you were giving him a tour around campus, you raised an eyebrow when a pair of lips appeared on the side of his cheek

“even though i want to kill that white haired bastard, i might spare your pretty little face.” 

“hello to you too, sukuna.” you greeted with a smile while yuji slapped a hand over the mouth, apologising to you with a wild blush on his face. you just laughed and reassured the poor boy it was alright

when nobara came, you adopted her as well; and she loves you, and loves how in tune with the trends you are. you two even have a girl’s night where you talk about everything that happens and have a few rants about boys

all in all - highkey chaotic, but with more common sense then your younger twin brother gojo and knows how to act professional whenever you need to. you also tend to adopt all the students that walks through your doors, and they view you as a parental figure as well. you and your brother are a menace together, but you two get things done and no one can really complain

gojo is protective, but when it comes to you it’s worse lol. but you’re just as bad when it comes to making sure ‘your baby brother’ is safe. you two tend to be super sassy and throw shade at each other, but when it comes down to the basics, you two love each other a lot and will go the extra mile to make sure that each other are safe

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: SCP x Reader - McDonald's Sprite (REQUESTED)

Main Masterlist | SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Rules | Request | Socials | My Original Post

Requested by: @katnotmore123

Bro y'all be simping for Sprite and I'm here simping for 7Up...

I mean I like them both but I just prefer 7up over Sprite... It's like comparing Pepsi and Coke ngl but with a more subtle difference

SCP 073 (Cain)

You came back to the foundation one day with a cup of iced drink and Cain had asked what you were drinking and you showed him

He was mildly confused but soon understood the beverage since he had seen them somewhere on the web (no, not the hub, an advert from McDonald's)

You asked if he wanted to try some and he did, so you gave him a sip

You were slightly annoyed and surprised since you drove over an hour and hadn't had anything to drink and the last thing you wanted was someone taking your drink

But since it was 073, you made it an exception since you hadn't expected him to have any food or beverages outside of site 17

You figured that he had enjoyed it as he reminisced his past about being able to eat plant-based food but no longer could

You felt bad and agreed to get more when you next go back

The researchers had wondered if the drink had ever rotted in his mouth but realise moments later that it's mainly made out of artificial ingredients aside from the natural flavourings

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

I have high doubts that you would be able to persuade Abel to drink such a plain beverage, so you had devised a plan to get him to try

You made a bet with Abel in which the loser has to finish off the drink, not that you'd complain (you unhealthy mf), but you really wanted him to give it a try

Abel accepted and had very much lost the bet

He had taken a sip and you noticed that he's enjoying the drink and teased him

He spat it out and flat out denied it (like the tsundere he is) but continued drinking it anyways

Some of the researchers monitoring Abel's cell found it rather amusing that he enjoyed such a "plain beverage" and did try to tease him about it

Let's just say it didn't end very well as it resulted in somebody's head being chopped off

You both had agreed that if Abel stops trying to breach his containment and be more cooperative, you or somebody else in your team would buy him more Sprite from McDonald's (and by 'buy', I mean kidnapping the whole chain's Sprite dispenser)

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

999 would most definitely take the drink out of your hand since his little tingles tell him that whatever you were drinking was sweet

And he was very much right

You were slightly shocked but wasn't surprised since he does have quite a sweet tooth

Every now and again, SCP 999 would ask if you had any more of those drinks and would even ask what they were

You had explained to him that it's a lemon and line flavoured soft drink created by the Coca-Cola company (the more you know right?)

He was intrigued and sweetly requested if you could buy him more and you obliged

You would use your time off to buy a dozen of Sprites from McDonald's and would sometimes buy other soft drinks like Coke and Fanta for 999

Needless to say, you had an orange blob as your personal pet who would give you unlimited hugs since you spoiled him with so many drinks

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

This mf of a lizard right here is just as stubborn, if not even more than Abel, and would reject trying that beverage at all for the whole entire week

You had to bribe him and the researchers were laughing their socks off from this interaction you both got going

He did give in but was rather hesitant at first

Once you poured some into his mouth, he seemed slightly disgusted from the taste

He would just sit still for a moment as to contemplate then stuck his tongue out as a sign of disgust

But bring the cheeky person you were, you spilt more into his mouth which led to him farting for the next few hours to which everyone laughed

Dr Bright heard the commotion and came to see what was happening

Let's just say he encouraged you to carry on if you want your head cut off but found it amusing regardless

In short, don't ever give him Sprite unless you want to torture him

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

Does this bird doctor even drink?!

You mention multiple times about human food and how delicious they are

Mainly McDonald's Sprite and their food since its rather popular

ESPECIALLY THEIR CHEESE BITES/STICKS!!! HAVE YALL EVEN TRIED THEM!? THEY'RE DELICIOUS AF!!!

OMG they've released the garlic ones but I preferred the normal Mozzarella sticks and cheesy bites though

Anyways, back to Sprite, our side chick

049 would be intrigued about this 'Sprite' since you spoke so passionately about it like your life depended on it and requested you to get him one for a try and so you did

When he drank it he was surprised at the foreign taste

He asked if there were more beverages like it and you answered honestly, carrying on with your love for McDonald's and offered to buy him some for a try

Basically, 049 would give it a try since you spoke so passionately for them

He wouldn't necessarily hate it, but he wouldn't love the drink as much

I'd say he would be intrigued to try something new outside of his role in curing the pestilence

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

I am so sorry guys, I'll have to make 035 hella short since I can't think of anything interesting for him

DO YALL THINK THIS BOI CAN EVEN TRY?! JUST LOOK AT HIM!!! HE'S A BLOODY MASK!!!

The closest thing for him to try the drink is if you gave his now possessed body some beforehand so 035 could telepathically understand the taste

Like if you just straight up gave him the drink I don't think he would be able to drink it even if he wanted to

If the now dead body never had Sprite, then you ould just describe the tase to him in form of arts (I like to imagine 035 would be into arts, especially performing arts since he's basically a theatre mask)

SCP 105 (Iris)

Our girl here has a high chance that she might have tried McDonald's Sprite

But she just prefers healthier foods (this healthy mf knows that y'all can't keep healthy, that's why she's here to start your New Year's Resolution which is to stay healthy)

You both would recommend food which is healthy or unhealthy and would try them

Iris is more than capable of controlling her diet, but you, on the other hand, have a hard time doing so (don't lie, we all know y'all like junk food)

So, you both compromised in which you can have junk food as a reward, namely your favourite beverage, Sprite

You just love the citrus flavoured, colourless beverage so much that Iris would have to hide the drink from you (ah yes great promotion from me XD)

What would you do without our girl, Iris, eh? (Die from overeating unhealthy food which causes heart attacks and strokes, of course, fun!)

Anyways, sometimes when you're the one going out, you would be the one to buy a few dozen bottles of Sprite from McDonald's (bro do they even sell bottled drinks? Ik they do in KFC from where I live OwO)

Iris would drop dead from the sight of you bringing in so many Sprites into the foundation

She would most likely drink some with you, not because she likes them, god no

It's because there's no more room to store them and she's just a little bit thirsty

SCP 106 (Old Man)

This old man would be so confused by all this food and drinks from the outside world

His first impression of McDonald's was that of a circus since you've shown him the older advertisement for McDonald's since it fits his age (love you 106!!! Not)

And then you gave him a menu, and god did he not have any glasses (boi he do be needing to go to Specsavers fr)

He read Mozzarella Sticks as mosasaurs pricks, the Spicy Veggie One as spicy vag- and what's worse is that he read Double Quater Pounder as double quantum pounding (he even read Coke wrong!)

You and the foundation staff burst out of laughter at his 20/20 eyesight

So one day, you returned to the foundation with some Sprite in your hands in hopes that 106 would give it a go and so he did

He found the flavour somewhat new and strange but still enjoyed it nevertheless (this boi here do be a man of culture, am I right?)

Anyways, 106 loved it so much to the point that during one of the breaches, he disappeared from the foundation and reappeared with 10 boxes of Sprite

The researchers then realised afterwards that 106 had used his pocket dimension to teleport to the nearest McDonald's and stole the boxes of Sprite without even paying

They were even more surprised to find that the workers there were ordinary humans and weren't even fazed about 106 teleporting to their business (Sames here bro! If anyone stole my food/drinks I'd be pissed too regardless of who it is!!! Food is food!!!)

You basically made him addicted to Sprite

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

(Imma be honest here, idk if this guy eats since he's facing the wall and covering his face like 99% of the time unless some guy saw his face)

You were sat in 096's cell and was debating on what food to get from McDonald's

096 was curious about what you're talking about since he heard you mumbling bout food from this so-called "McDonald's"

So you explained to him the concept of food and that generally speaking, unhealthy foods are tastier and typically served quicker in at places like McDonald's

Imma be real here, I like Burger King's chilli cheese bites a tiny bit more since the McDonald's at my place is stuck with garlic cheese bites atm

It's not like I hate them, but I just prefer the old ones, but it's nice that McDonald's changes up their food every now and then

Anyways, back onto our side chick

You bought your favourite Sprite along with the double quantum pou- quarter pounder

096 was upon curious and so you let him have a bite of your quarter pounder and your Sprite

Let's just say that 096 found it weird and didn't ask about human food again

Dr Jack bright

Jack Bright is very much aware of McDonald's and other fast-food chains since he does have a fair share of memories of eating them with his family and because the bodies he possesses do be unhealthy af (just like you)

You were talking about food with one of your co-workers and Bright just so happened to be nearby and butted his head into the conversation

Your co-worker also just happened to leave for a meeting so you're both stuck together talking about McDonald's

Sometime later, you bought to the foundation some food, including Jack's favourites as he had mentioned not long ago

You both tried each other's food and he was mesmerised by the Sprite since it's been a while since he had it

So whenever you went back, you would buy a larger bottle of Sprite for Jack since he wouldn't have much free time and needed to drink more anyways

Sometimes, when you're both talking about food, you'd make up puns for them or just laugh at your misinterpretations since you're just as blind as a bat (btw I've read somewhere that bats have good vision, they just use echolocation a lot)

Some of the things you both would say would be "Did you hear that McDonald's gave all their employees large laptops for Christmas? They were Big Macs" and "Hey, Ronald McDonald - been watching any good clown movies? Ronald: I'm loving it"

One time, he smacked your bum and casually said to you "Girl, this quarter-pounder will take you to a whole different level of experience" and then left

Dr Simon Glass

Another doctor who has knowledge of fast foods

He's similar to Bright in a way as he doesn't leave the facility as often as he likes since he's constantly busy

Also, he would make terrible jokes and puns using wordplay

When you told him about your favourite drink, Sprite, Glass immediately said "I went to the store to get eight cans of Sprite. When I got home, I realized I’d only picked seven up"

You just looked dumbfounded at his puns and laughed as he continued

He did manage to take a sip and drank the whole can of Sprite instead

You even bought some wrap with extra mayo and told Simon about your friendly chat with the waitress/cashier and mentioned her former co-workers

And you died on the inside because his only reply was "She should go back sometime to ketchup with her old co-workers or she mayo not want to"

To shut him up, you have decided that buying him Sprite would work and it kinda did

Only for a short while though

Dr Alto Clef

Clef is well aware of the fast-food chain called McDonald's

It was hard to ignore it as a lot of people younger than him had kept talking about it, even you

Even worse if it was you talking about McDonald's since you have an obsession with their Sprite

Poor Clef was confused as he assumed that all lemon/lime flavoured drinks were the same

Oh boy was he wrong

You came back with your lunch from you know where and 2 bottles of Sprite

One was from McDonald's and the other from Lidl along with some of your favourite pastries, like croissants and toffee yum yums

You had him try all the foods and both Sprites and he finally gave in to the fact that McDonald's Sprite tastes more superior than the other

Not only that, he made dirty jokes and puns about the food in McDonald's

Like "Baby, you got more legs than a bucket of McDonald's", "Come over to my house and I’ll give ya a happy meal", "Do you work here? Because I’d like to order some fries with that shake" and "Girl when I am done with you, you won't be looking for no toys in this happy meal"

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Benjamin Kondraki would be the type of person who would be reluctant to try but would anyways since you asked so kindly and gave them those eyes

And by that, I mean a death glare

NGL he doesn't seem like the type of fella to be eating a ton of unhealthy food

I mean he doesn't necessarily eat salad or anything overly healthy, but he does have a balanced diet for the most part and does treat himself sometimes, but not too often

You magically crept up behind Kondraki and scared him unintentionally but you still laughed anyway because you're evil

He looked down and realised that the packaging was from McDonald's and you were holding a familiar clear bottle in your other hand

You were kind enough to share your food with him and he thoroughly enjoyed it

Then after that, you forced him to drink some Sprite since he has PTSD from your unhealthy obsession with it

And yes, he did end up drinking it

And no, he didn't like it nor did he hate it

You were upset that you thought he shot you down about Sprite but quickly regained your happiness since he did tell you about the drink being just above average

[qqueenofhades]

Re: the post you reblogged about Bush. I'm 21 and tbh feel like I can only vote for Bernie, can you explain if/why I shouldn't? Thanks and sorry if this is dumb or anything.

Oh boy. Okay, I’ll do my best here. Note that a) this will get long, and b) I’m old, Tired, and I‘m pretty sure my brain tried to kill me last night. Since by nature I am sure I will say something Controversial ™, if anyone reads this and feels a deep urge to inform me that I am Wrong, just… mark it down as me being Wrong and move on with your life. But also, really, you should read this and hopefully think about it. Because while I’m glad you asked this question, it feels like there’s a lot in your cohort who won’t, and that worries me. A lot.

First, not to sound utterly old-woman-in-a-rocking-chair ancient, people who came of age/are only old enough to have Obama be the first president that they really remember have no idea how good they had it. The world was falling the fuck apart in 2008 (not coincidentally, after 8 years of Bush). We came within a flicker of the permanent collapse of the global economy. The War on Terror was in full roar, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were at their height, we had Dick Cheney as the cartoon supervillain before we had any of Trump’s cohort, and this was before Chelsea Manning or Edward Snowden had exposed the extent of NSA/CIA intelligence-gathering/American excesses or there was any kind of public debate around the fact that we were all surveilled all the time. And the fact that a brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama was elected in this climate seems, and still seems tbh, kind of amazing. And Obama was certainly not a Perfect President ™. He had to scale back a lot of planned initiatives, he is notorious for expanding the drone strike/extrajudicial assassination program, he still subscribed to the overall principles of neoliberalism and American exceptionalism, etc etc. There is valid criticism to be made as to how the hopey-changey optimistic rhetoric stacked up against the hard realities of political office. And yet…. at this point, given what we’re seeing from the White House on a daily basis, the depth of the parallel universe/double standards is absurd.

Because here’s the thing. Obama, his entire family, and his entire administration had to be personally/ethically flawless the whole time (and they managed that – not one scandal or arrest in eight years, against the legions of Trumpistas now being convicted) because of the absolute frothing depths of Republican hatred, racial conspiracy theories, and obstruction against him. (Remember Merrick Garland and how Mitch McConnell got away with that, and now we have Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court? Because I remember that). If Obama had pulled one-tenth of the shit, one-twentieth of the shit that the Trump administration does every day, he would be gone. It also meant that people who only remember Obama think he was typical for an American president, and he wasn’t. Since about… Jimmy Carter, and definitely since Ronald Reagan, the American people have gone for the Trump model a lot more than the Obama model. Whatever your opinion on his politics or character, Obama was a constitutional law professor, a community activist, a neighborhood organizer and brilliant Ivy League intellectual who used to randomly lie awake at night thinking about income inequality. Americans don’t value intellectualism in their politicians; they just don’t. They don’t like thinking that “the elites” are smarter than them. They like the folksy populist who seems fun to have a beer with, and Reagan/Bush Senior/Clinton/Bush Junior sold this persona as hard as they possibly could. As noted in said post, Bush Junior (or Shrub as the late, great Molly Ivins memorably dubbed him) was Trump Lite but from a long-established political family who could operate like an outwardly civilized human.

The point is: when you think Obama was relatively normal (which, again, he wasn’t, for any number of reasons) and not the outlier in a much larger pattern of catastrophic damage that has been accelerated since, again, the 1980s (oh Ronnie Raygun, how you lastingly fucked us!), you miss the overall context in which this, and which Trump, happened. Like most left-wingers, I don’t agree with Obama’s recent and baffling decision to insert himself into the 2020 race and warn the Democratic candidates against being too progressive or whatever he was on about. I think he was giving into the same fear that appears to be motivating the remaining chunk of Joe Biden’s support: that middle/working-class white America won’t go for anything too wild or that might sniff of Socialism, and that Uncle Joe, recalled fondly as said folksy populist and the internet’s favorite meme grandfather from his time as VP, could pick up the votes that went to Trump last time. And that by nature, no one else can.

The underlying belief is that these white voters just can’t support anything too “un-American,” and that by pushing too hard left, Democratic candidates risk handing Trump a second term. Again: I don’t agree and I think he was mistaken in saying it. But I also can’t say that Obama of all people doesn’t know exactly the strength of the political machine operating against the Democratic Party and the progressive agenda as a whole, because he ran headfirst into it for eight years. The fact that he managed to pass any of his legislative agenda, usually before the Tea Party became a thing in 2010, is because Democrats controlled the House and Senate for the first two years of his first term. He was not perfect, but it was clear that he really did care (just look up the pictures of him with kids). He installed smart, efficient, and scandal-free people to do jobs they were qualified for. He gave us Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to join RBG on the Supreme Court. All of this seems… like a dream.

That said: here we are in a place where Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren are the front-runners for the Democratic nomination (and apparently Pete Buttigieg is getting some airplay as a dark horse candidate, which… whatever). The appeal of Biden is discussed above, and he sure as hell is not my favored candidate (frankly, I wish he’d just quit). But Sanders and Warren are 85% - 95% similar in their policy platforms. The fact that Michael “50 Billion Dollar Fortune” Bloomberg started rattling his chains about running for president is because either a Sanders or Warren presidency terrifies the outrageously exploitative billionaire capitalist oligarchy that runs this country and has been allowed to proceed essentially however the fuck they like since… you guessed it, the 1980s, the era of voodoo economics, deregulation, and the free market above all. Warren just happens to be ten years younger than Sanders and female, and Sanders’ age is not insignificant. He’s 80 years old and just had a heart attack, and there’s still a year to go to the election. It’s also more than a little eye-rolling to describe him as the only progressive candidate in the race, when he’s an old white man (however much we like and approve of his policy positions). And here’s the thing, which I think is a big part of the reason why this polarized ideological purity internet leftist culture mistrusts Warren:

She may have changed her mind on things in the past.

Scary, right? I sound like I’m being facetious, but I’m not. An argument I had to read with my own two eyes on this godforsaken hellsite was that since Warren became a Democrat around the time Clinton signed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, she sekritly hated gay people and might still be a corporate sellout, so on and etcetera. (And don’t even get me STARTED on the fact that DADT, coming a few years after the height of the AIDS crisis which was considered God’s Judgment of the Icky Gays, was the best Clinton could realistically hope to achieve, but this smacks of White Gay Syndrome anyway and that is a whole other kettle of fish.) Bernie has always demonstrably been a democratic socialist, and: good for him. I’m serious. But because there’s the chance that Warren might not have thought exactly as she does now at any point in her life, the hysterical and paranoid left-wing elements don’t trust that she might not still secretly do so. (Zomgz!) It’s the same element that’s feeding cancel culture and “wokeness.” Nobody can be allowed to have shifted or grown in their opinions or, like a functional, thoughtful, non-insane adult, changed their beliefs when presented with compelling evidence to the contrary. To the ideological hordes, any hint of uncertainty or past failure to completely toe the line is tantamount to heresy. Any evidence of any other belief except The Correct One means that this person is functionally as bad as Trump. And frankly, it’s only the Sanders supporters who, just as in 2016, are threatening to withhold their vote in the general election if their preferred candidate doesn’t win the primary, and indeed seem weirdly proud about it.

OK, boomer Bernie or Buster.

Here’s the thing, the thing, the thing: there is never going to be an American president free of the deeply toxic elements of American ideology. There just won’t be. This country has been built how it has for 250 years, and it’s not gonna change. You are never going to have, at least not in the current system, some dream candidate who gets up there and parrots the left-wing talking points and attacks American imperialism, exceptionalism, ravaging global capitalism, military and oil addiction, etc. They want to be elected as leader of a country that has deeply internalized and taken these things to heart for its entire existence, and most of them believe it to some degree themselves. So this groupthink white liberal mentality where the only acceptable candidate is this Perfect Non-Problematic robot who has only ever had one belief their entire lives and has never ever wavered in their devotion to doctrine has really gotten bad. The Democratic Party would be considered… maybe center/mild left in most other developed countries. It’s not even really left-wing by general standards, and Sanders and Warren are the only two candidates for the nomination who are even willing to go there and explicitly put out policy proposals that challenge the systematic structure of power, oppression, and exploitation of the late-stage capitalist 21st century. Warren has the billionaires fussed, and instead of backing down, she’s doubling down. That’s part of why they’re so scared of her. (And also misogyny, because the world is depressing like that.) She is going head-on after picking a fight with some of the worst people on the planet, who are actively killing the rest of us, and I don’t know about you, but I like that.

Of course: none of this will mean squat if she (or the eventual Democratic winner, who I will vote for regardless of who it is, but as you can probably tell, she’s my ride or die) don’t a) win the White House and then do as they promised on the campaign trail, and b) don’t have a Democratic House and Senate willing to have a backbone and pass the laws. Even Nancy Pelosi, much as she’s otherwise a badass, held off on opening a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump for months out of fear it would benefit him, until the Ukraine thing fell into everyone’s laps. The Democrats are really horrible at sticking together and voting the party line the way Republicans do consistently, because Democrats are big-tent people who like to think of themselves as accepting and tolerant of other views and unwilling to force their members’ hands. The Republicans have no such qualms (and indeed, judging by their enabling of Trump, have no qualms at all). 

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally. Even if we’re due to be out of the Paris Climate Accords one day after the 2020 election, and the issue of climate change now has the most visibility it’s ever had after years of big-business, Republican-led efforts to deny and discredit the science, hey, Secret Corporate Shill, am I right? Can’t trust ‘er. Let’s go have a craft beer.

As has been said before: vote as far left as you want in the primary. Vote your ideology, vote whatever candidate you want, because the only way to make actual, real-world change is to do that. The huge, embedded, all-consuming and horrible system in which we operate is not just going to suddenly be run by fairy dust and happy thoughts overnight. Select candidates that reflect your values exactly, be as picky and ideologically militant as you want. That’s the time to do that! Then when it comes to the general election:

America is a two-party system. It sucks, but that’s the case. Third-party votes, or refraining from voting because “it doesn’t matter” are functionally useless at best and actively harmful at worst.

Either the Democratic candidate or Donald Trump will win the 2020 election.

There is absolutely no length that the Republican/GOP machine, and its malevolent allies elsewhere, will not go to in order to secure a Trump victory. None.

Any talk whatsoever about “progressive values” or any kind of liberal activism, coupled with a course of action that increases the possibility of a Trump victory, is hypocritical at best and actively malicious at worst.

This is why I found the Democratic response to Obama’s “don’t go too wild” comments interesting. Bernie doubled down on the fact that his plans have widespread public support, and he’s right. (Frankly, the fact that Sanders and Warren are polling at the top, and the fact that they’re politicians and would not be crafting these campaign messages if they didn’t know that they were being positively received, says plenty on its own). Warren cleverly highlighted and praised Obama’s accomplishments in office (i.e. the Affordable Care Act) and didn’t say squat about whether she agreed or disagreed with him, then went right back to campaigning about why billionaires suck. And some guy named Julian Castro basically blew Obama off and claimed that “any Democrat” could beat Trump in 2020, just by nature of existing and being non-insane.

This is very dangerous! Do not be Julian Castro!

As I said in my tags on the Bush post: everyone assumed that sensible people would vote for Kerry in 2004. Guess what happened? Yeah, he got Swift Boated. The race between Obama and McCain in 2008, even after those said nightmare years of Bush, was very close until the global crash broke it open in Obama’s favor, and Sarah Palin was an actual disqualifier for a politician being brazenly incompetent and unprepared. (Then again, she was a woman from a remote backwater state, not a billionaire businessman.) In 2012, we thought Corporate MormonBot Mitt Fuggin’ Romney was somehow the worst and most dangerous candidate the Republicans could offer. In 2016, up until Election Day itself, everyone assumed that HRC was a badly flawed candidate but would win anyway. And… we saw how that worked out. Complacency is literally deadly.

I was born when Reagan was still president. I’m just old enough to remember the efforts to impeach Clinton over forcing an intern to give him a BJ in the Oval Office (This led by the same Republicans making Donald Trump into a darling of the evangelical Christian right wing.) I’m definitely old enough to remember 9/11 and how America lost its mind after that, and I remember the Bush years. And, obviously, the contrast with Obama, the swing back toward Trump, and everything that has happened since. We can’t afford to do this again. We’re hanging by a thread as it is, and not just America, but the entire planet.

So yes. By all means, vote for Sanders in the primary. Then when November 3, 2020 rolls around, if you care about literally any of this at all, hold your nose if necessary and vote straight-ticket Democrat, from the president, to the House and Senate, to the state and local offices. I cannot put it more strongly than that.

[paellaplease]

HAII!! if it hasnt been done yet, could you do revali x reader with basorexia? maybe reader really wants to give him a kiss but she really cant since,, yknow she has lips and he has a fuckin beak so she just decides to give him a lil smooch on the cheek? idk that was just an idea i had in mind, u dont have to write it!

22. basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss.

pairing: revali x reader summary:  revali spirits you away to enjoy the new years eve festivities.

   In the darkness of your room, you awoke to the sound of a soft tapping on your window. Twisting in the mess of blankets and pillows, you pushed aside the papers and textbooks that had accumulated at the foot of the bed, noticing only then that the candle at your desk had long since extinguished. 

Head pounding, you rubbed at your tired eyes, feeling heavy. How long had you been asleep?

The tapping grew more insistent, forcing you to get up. Grumbling, you allowed yourself a second to stretch, ignoring how your room felt like water sloshing in a glass. 

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on!" You said, hobbling to the window. Brushing the mess of hair from your eyes, you pulled the curtains away and roughly pushed it open. 

The culprit hovered outside, eyes bright and smug. Revali looked very much at home though he was floating at a dizzying distance away from the ground. In the sleepy haze, he looked like a painting of some myth you had read before, with the late night sky as his backdrop and the outline of your window as his frame. 

"Took you long enough."

"Apologies. I thought some tree branches were hitting the glass." 

The Rito made a show of turning in the air. "Funny, I don't see any nearby trees."

"I know," you sighed, disappointed. 

Revali rolled his eyes and poked his head through the window, feathers brushing past your cheek as he ignored your personal space in favour of scoping out your room. The stiff turn of his neck as he looked around reminded you of the curious and confused little birds that landed on the sill from time to time. 

"Quite a dreary home you have here." Gesturing to the overall darkness, he pointed to your stack of scattered papers. "You shouldn't study without proper lighting, it's bad for your eyes." 

"I was asleep."

"Why, I'm surprised. And here I thought you were one of the festive many who choose to stay awake at an ungodly hour in order to count down the remaining seconds of the year."

"Well," you shrugged, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Not like it's anything special. New year, same shit. What difference would a countdown do?" 

Biting down on your tongue, you stopped yourself from saying anymore. The cold breeze sifted past the light shirt you were wearing, making you shiver. 

He was right, normally you were one of those people who stayed up, excitedly watching the hands of the clocktower tick til they reached midnight. You enjoyed the energy of being in a collective crowd, waiting with bated breath for the first inhale and exhale you would take into the brand new year.

The final month on the Hylian calendar brought a sense of relief and a hope for new beginnings. Usually today of all days  you were at your happiest, jumping at the prospect of celebrating along with the rest of the kingdom and yet…

That sinking weight clawed at your chest again, forcing you to clamp down on it once more.

You grimaced. There it was; that bitter feeling. Hylia. How annoying. It twisted in your brain like an angry snake, pulling down your mood and enthusiasm along with it. 

Last year you wanted to cheer and dance until the morning light. Now all you felt like was staring at the wall. Or falling asleep. 

You blinked, turning back to the window to see Revali patiently waiting for you to continue. Feeling your face warm, you hustled your brain to get a move on. A coherent thought would be great right about…now!

"Hey have you ever wondered why they don't grow trees on this side of the castle? It's not fair the more expensive quarters get all the pretty greenery. I mean, non-noble guests still need that sweet oxygen everyone keeps raving about, you get me?" Shut up brain, that's enough. I said a coherent thought. C o h e r e n t. 

Stars in his wings, Revali shook his head but answered anyway. "I agree, it's hardly fair. Also go change into something warm, we need to get you outside."

"What? Why?"

Something in the Rito's expression clued you in to the fact that he wasn't in the mood to play stupid. You've been sitting in the dark for the past few days and it didn't take a private investigator to know it was playing tricks with your head. "Fine, but when I say we go back--we go back, got it?"

He huffed, turning around to give you some privacy. "I promise on my honour."

The brightly lit lanterns of the town square made you squint as you shuffled closer to your guide, the sound of the city loud in your ears.

Though less prominent, the twisting feeling in your gut continued, making you more hyper-alert than usual to the world around you. Adjusting the sleeves of your coat, you followed Revali past the streets, the Rito expertly navigating through the sea of people. 

Somewhere along the way he had taken your hand, and you told yourself it was a good way for you both to stick together. Wouldn't want you getting lost and spending the final minutes of the year playing an elaborate game of hide and seek after all. He was a great friend like that. Nevermind that everytime you would hold his wing a little tighter to remind yourself that he was there, he would always squeeze back. 

You needed a distraction. 

Just focus on everything that's not him.

The night was alive with the sound of music. It didn't matter if you partied with an alcoholic drink in hand, or a glass of milk, everyone in Hyrule was filled with an addictive buzz that came with an event that only happened once a year. Vendors with bright smiles called out from their stalls, the smell of freshly baked sweets or the sizzle of a barbecue beckoning you to take a closer look. To your left, a group of friends raised their hands in the air, loudly welcoming a Goron that had turned up late but regardless had finally arrived. 

The archer followed your line of sight, guessing the question bouncing in your head. "Daruk is in Eldin, probably rattling Death Mountain with that story again about the Moblin camp and the barrel of explosives."

"I love that story."

"Of course you would."

"Sorry about your feathers though."

"Whatever, they grew back."

"How about the one's on your--"

"Anyway," he interjected quickly, playfully nudging you to the side and glowering at your laughter. "We've been told to 'take a break'. The other Champions have chosen to spend this day with their families and loved ones. We are planning to regroup and continue preparations in the days following."

"How about you?"

"I already said it."

Your cheeks coloured at the implications of his words, mind replaying the previous sentence. Families and loved ones. Families and loved ones. He didn't even hesitate. You both were not related. So that left you with...

"Woah!" Digging your heels into the dirt, you abruptly paused your brisk walk and saved yourself from colliding with the archer's back. 

Stopping at one of the stalls, Revali held two fingers up. You glanced up at him questioningly but he refused to give anything away, expression relaxed. The vendor returned quickly, the Rito thanking them quietly and placing the payment on the bright yellow table cloth along with a large tip in their jar. 

He turned around, dropping a square shaped pastry into your hands. It was some kind of rice cake, with a fluffy exterior and a golden baked surface that smelled of butter and felt warm like the sun. 

Taking a bite, you smiled at the hints of coconut that were hidden in its sweet flavour. The sticky treat was familiar somehow. "Is this so luck sticks to you in the new year?"

Revali scoffed, though failed to hide his own smile behind the cake held in his wing. "You said the same thing when we first met. You need new material."

"Says the baron of bird puns."

"I am the king." He punctuated the statement by biting into his own rice cake. Offering his wing, he gently took your hand once more, turning back to step again into the busy promenade. 

Following him, you noticed that the crowds ever so slowly began to thin. A lantern lit hill was coming up. The grassy expanse was dotted with a few people, though it was blessingly not as populous as the town square. "I should be the one that's surprised. Thought you hated crowds unless their attentions were all on you."

"It's tolerable so long as I am with good company." 

The both of you walked up the hill with an unspoken agreement to make it to the top. Taking a seat on the grass, you allowed yourself to breathe, chest heaving from the small burst of exercise after days of being sedentary. 

The twinkling lights of Castle Town stretched out before you. Gazing at it, you could imagine all the untold stories hidden in the glowing little pockets of the alleys and in the hushed whispers behind closed doors. Funny how in a city so full of people, one can feel so alone. 

Revali was the first to speak, breaking you from your thoughts. "I think I can understand now. Looking at it from this distance, it really can feel like nothing much has changed."

You continued to stare at the lights, trying to focus on a certain string in an attempt to ground yourself. "Yeah. Sometimes it feels like though the world continues to spin, I'm remaining completely still. Just stagnant."

Frowning, you ran your hands through the grass, feeling the dirt shift under your fingers. You could feel your frustrations building, bubbling up to the surface with no way of dragging them back down. 

"And the challenges just get worse every year. How am I going to face those old problems and these new ones if I'm still the same lost person I was back then?"

Your voice echoed at the last sentence, making you hide your head in embarrassment. That was loud. 

Some strangers relaxing on the hill turned around to flash you an annoyed glare, before quickly returning to their picnics after spotting the Great Eagle Bow on your friend's back. 

 "I'm so sorry." You wanted more than anything then to dig a hole and hibernate preferrably for the next hundred years or so. "I'm yelling, that isn't like me. I'm so so--"

"There's nothing to be sorry about. You needed to say it." He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. There was a serious element to it that made it a little hard to breathe. "There is one part of that I don't agree with, however."

"What is it?"

"That entire section about you, how did you put it, stagnanting." He twisted a wing in the air, thinking on his words before pointing a feather directly at your face. "You're fully capable of enacting the change you want to see in yourself."

You felt a little dizzy now. But another kind of dizzy, one very different from the vertigo you felt waking up in the darkness of your room. 

"And who said you were exactly the same as you were back then? You've changed. In a good way. You're stronger and more capable of things I'm sure the person you were two years ago or even less couldn't even fathom doing." 

Turning to face you, Revali gave you his full attention, compelling you to do the same as the cadence of his speech joined the steady rhythm of your own beating heart. From the back of your mind, you could barely register the sound of people gathering together, their voices floating into the cold night air. 

'Ten!'

"It's difficult to see your own progress from a distance."

'Nine!'

"So take my advice and start looking at yourself up close for once."

'Eight!'

He had that expression on his face, one that said he was thinking too hard about something. It was like watching him try to pull the planets together with just a piece of string. His brows were furrowed so deep that your fingers wished to run over his feathers and smoothe the worried creases. 

'Seven!'

You slowly reached out to him, giving him enough time to back away. Revali stilled as your hands traced up the nape of his neck, leaning in as his pulse thrummed underneath the soft pads of your fingertips. 

'Six!'

He opened his beak the moment you reached his face. You paused, half expecting him to tell you to let go and pretend like it never happened. 

Instead, he called out your name. 

'Five!'

He said your name again, though quieter now. It was enough to tug at the invisible force drawing you two together. Enough so that the polite distance nervously enforced by the both of you gradually began to dissipate, trailing away like a ribbon of smoke as you both leaned in closer.

'Four!'

"May I--," He cleared his throat, eyes darting away for a second before they were back on you again. Bright green in the lantern light. Emeralds in the desert sand. 

'Three!'

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes."

'Two!'

"Your way or mine?" You couldn't help but joke. Revali smiled, exhaling a soft joyful laugh before pressing his forehead to yours. 

'One!'

'Happy New Year!'

An earth-shaking boom rattled your ears, but all you could think of in that moment was Revali and the feel of his feathers against your skin; the utter elation of being so close to someone you deeply cared for and that cared just as deeply for you. 

In the dazzling light you lifted your head from his, both your eyes meeting for a brief moment. Hands moving, you gently angled his face with a steady hand, feeling then the soft, butterfly light brush of his wings on your waist.

Closing your eyes again, you leaned in to press your lips against his beak, the blush on your face warmer than any fever or furnace. The Rito's soft sigh was barely audible as you trailed your kisses upwards, stopping at the red circle on his cheek. 

Revali laughed again as you turned his face to press a kiss to the identical red mark on the other side. "You're very thorough."

"You deserve it." You beamed. "And this is just the beginning, just you wait at the end of the countdown I'll--"

"Actually my dear," he grinned, pointing to the sky. 

"Huh?"

Above you were the vibrant colours of the firework display. It was beautiful and awe-inspiring, but a confirmation that you were definitely minutes in to the new year.

"Oh," you said, before shaking your head with a smile. "It's fine, we got 12 more months to prepare ourselves for the next one."

Revali nodded, pulling you closer so he could press your foreheads together again.

"Indeed," he grinned. "Now will you finish your sentence? What exactly were you going to do at the end of the countdown?"

fin. 

[lilousmustaches]

Work this out

Jake Peralta x Reader

Warnings: Ladies stuff, i won't say anything else to avoid spoilers. 

Notes: Here i am writing again after 3 years.... a total new fandom. I am watching b99 and i'm so addicted, Jake is the only thing in my mind right now and i had to do this. It didn't go as i planned, but i hope it's ok. It's small and english is not my first language. Expect more of Jake x Reader here, it's my first try and voilá. 

Summary: Jake and the reader have a friends with benefits relationship and suddenly she starts to act strange. 

Another work day in NYPD's 99 precinct. It had everything to be another normal day. Well... normal as it can get down there. But it wasn't.

 Immediately when you entered the precinct, Jake turned his head up from his computer to give you a smile and probably a silly joke provoking you. But his smile vanished as soon as he saw you pass everyone with your head down, no good mornings and going somewhere down the hall.

 "Hey" Rosa called looking between Jake and the hall you just disappeared. "What's up with (Y/N)?" 

 "I don't know." Jake responded confused as everybody else in the room. You were a joyful person, always smiling and greeting every single person that worked there. 

 "What have you done Jake?" Amy asked angry assuming it was his fault since everyone knew about yours friends with benefits relationship that has been going on for a while now. 

 "What? Nothing" Jake answered quickly indignant with the assumption. 

 "No, Amy is right Jake." Boyle said getting up of his desk and coming closer. "(Y/N) is acting weird this days, yesterday she didn't even wanted to eat some of my salmon cookies. She loves that. And coming here and not giving my good morning hug? Definitely something's strange." 

 "Boyle is right on that one." Rosa agreed with her arms crossed. 

 "I don't know ok?" Jake answered frustrated with your strange behavior rising his hands in surrender. "(Y/N) didn't went to my place this last weekend, in fact I had barely seen her for the past days. I really have no idea... maybe she's just trying to dump me and trying to make it easier." 

 "Or maybe she's tired of waiting for you to ask her out on a real date and assume her as your girlfriend!" Boyle pointed raising an eyebrow to his friend. "You should tell her how you really feel." 

 "Yeah, haven't you kept her waiting long enough?" Amy agreed. Everybody that met you and Jake knew eventually you were going to stay together. You had the same kind of humor and the same sassy tone. So it wasn't exactly a surprise when in one of the squad's reunions at the bar, you and Jake got hammered and started to talk and laugh closer to each other. Not a long time after that, you both disappeared going straight to his house. "It's has been months since this 'friends with benefits' thing started." 

 "Look guys." Jake said with a frustrated sigh rolling his eyes. "(Y/N) and I have talked about this. She's not ready yet for a relationship, she passed a hard time with that son of a bitch ex of hers. She needs time and I respect that."

 "Oh here she comes." Rosa alerted and quickly everybody went back to their places and pretended to be working. You came out of the files room discussing something with Terry. 

 "Okay (Y/N), we can work on that. Good job." Terry said with a sweet smile going back to his desk, and you to yours. You sat down in silence still not looking around organizing your paperwork, but notice everyone quiet and you could literally feel their stares burning on your skin. 

 "What?" You finally said looking around to your colleagues and everybody tried to disguise murmuring a lot of 'nothing' 'just working'. Everybody unless Jake. He was watching you intensely trying to figure out what was wrong. 

 Your eyes locked for a second and you could see that he was worried, and that broke your heart even more. This wasn't supposed to happen right now. Your heart was beating fast and nervousness took over your body. You quickly turned your attention to your desk again and took your purse pretending to organize something there. 

 "Good morning squad, today..." Captain Holt started to say walking out of his office but stopped in his tracks when looked over your desk and catch the sight of something inside your purse. He looked back and forth you and Jake. "Oh..." 

 "Oh what? What oh?" Jake asked fast doing his classic bite lip when he was anxious, trying to figure out what Holt saw that he didn't. 

 "Hmm" Holt said looking at Jake like he didn't know what to do now. "(Y/N) please come to my office." 

 Jake watched you get up and follow Holt into his office, closing the door behind you and closing the shutters. He strained his eyes shaking his head in denial. Ok, this was how things was going to go? Fine! He was a detective and he was so on for this investigation.

xXxXxXxXx

 Jake wanted to stay and see your expression when you got out of Holt's office, but duty called and he had to be on the streets all day. He put everyone on the precinct working on the case '(Y/N)'s secret 0.1', and every minimum suspicious movement, they were oriented to send him a message.

 Charles really took it seriously. 

 Nothing useful thought. Man he was frustrated, he solves all type of cases everyday but he couldn't figure out what was wrong with the women he liked? It was driving him crazy! 

 It has just grown dark when Jake entered back the 99, some people from the night shift was already there and he could only spot Boyle from his friends.

 "Hey Jake! Did you read my messages? Did you find them useful?" 

 "Hmmm... Yeah Charles, of course, thank you." Jake said after pondering the answer in his head although It was no useful at all. Charles told him every single one of your steps through the day, Jake wanted to know if you did something strange not your constant need to pee on that day. "(Y/N) already went home?"

 "Actually no, I just send you a text, didn't you read it?" He asked feeling insulted but continued when saw Jake's face. "Ok, she and Terry are still working on that case but (Y/N) got hot, she said she needed some air. She's on the roof." 

 "Hot? (Y/N) is always cold." He said confused but suddenly something clicked and everything started to fall into place inside his head. "I got go."

 His steps were fast to open the door for the roof and he immediately spotted you looking at the city view. You didn't turn but he knew that you knew it was him. 

 "Hey you." He said softly slowly approaching you until he was by your side. "I was worried today, you know?" 

 "I kind of got that.... Charles followed me into the ladies bathroom three times." You said making you both laugh. "So what it was? Like a secret case that everybody worked? How was it called? '(Y/N)'s secret 0.1?'"

 "What? No. I wouldn't go that obvious." Jake answered laughing nervously. Oh man, you knew him too damn well. "But yeah, was definitely working on that case. I worry about (Y/N). You were pushing me away, you didn't even answered my calls this last weekend. Sure, you could be done with our casual thing or whatever, but I know you. I knew it was not it." 

 "Jake, look..." You said with a sigh but he interrupted you. 

 "I was confused as hell this morning, but suddenly everything clicked. Yesterday you didn't want that weird salmon cookies Charles brings. I adore you but those are nasty as fuck, by the way. You didn't drink coffee when you got here today, you always do that. And not greeting anyone? That means something happened yesterday night that got you worried." Jake said and paused waiting for a reaction, but he took your silence a sign to continue his deduction. "Of course you could be suspecting for a while now, and that's why you have been avoiding me. Captain saw your purse when he got out of his office. He saw your tampons, am I right? Untouched. Your usual period date has already passed, and everybody knows when it is because of how much pain you feel. Usually stays only in paper work those days. Constantly needing to pee. But none of it hit me until Charles said you were feeling hot. You're always cold and asks for my jackets. Those are all symptoms of...." 

 "Hit me Sherlock." You said and waited for his right answer.

 "You're pregnant." Jake said finally, his face softening. "It is mine?" He asks feeling insecure but he changed his mind when saw your face. "Dumb question. Shouldn't say that. Of course it's mine."

 "I'm so sorry Jake, I just didn't know how to say it. You're right in everything, I started suspecting since last Friday but only took the test yesterday." You said starting to feel tears in your eyes. "And yes, Captain Holt found out in seconds. I just begged him not to tell you."

 "Traitor" Jake said furrowing his eyebrows. "I'm just confused on how that happened? We always use condoms." 

 "I was thinking that too, until I remembered that night on Gina's birthday that we got really drunk and had sex on the bar's bathroom." You said and he agreed, both smiling at the memory quickly coming back to the moment. "I am so scared. We're not even together and I..." 

 "Wait, that's what is troubling you?" Jake said feeling his hands shaking and his heart beating incredibly fast. "(Y/N) I like you ok? For a long time now. I just didn't think you were ready yet for a relationship, I was respecting your time. But oh god, I'm so in love with you it hurts. Of course it's not the perfect scenario, but we gonna make this work, I won't leave you to take care of this baby alone."

 He said sincerely looking in your eyes and you nodded feeling some tears starting to fall down, you hugged him tight feeling his strong grip on you. Jake kissed your forehead, rubbing your back to calm you down. 

 "I'm in love with you too Jake, so much, I want this to work out." You said softly into his neck. 

 "It will." He said giving a slow chaste kiss. You stayed hugged for a few minutes but suddenly he gasped and started to hyperventilate. "Holy shit! I'm going to be a dad. What if i can not be a good dad because mine abandoned me when I was little? I'm going to be a dad." 

 "Hey" You said to drag his attention back to you, watching his wide eyes staring at the horizon. You knew it was your time to calm him down. "You're going to be a great dad. You are already proving this to me by not letting me be alone. We will work this out remember?" 

 "Yeah..." He sighed feeling calmer looking into your eyes. "We will work this out."

[thebadboyfanclub]

Protect The Queen Pt.1 (Geralt x Reader)

This is just becoming addictive at this point, I love writing about this cause there are so many different scenarios and possibilities you could write about. Also there might be a part two for this so please let me know if you would be interested in it. Enjoy!

She looked at herself in the mirror once more, it was almost time for her to take her future in her own hands, to rise to the occasion and take back her life. Her gaze fell to the ring she was wearing, it was passed on to her when she married the king of Orkney, she barely had taken a step into womanhood at the time her parents announced her marriage to her, such a shame that she spend such youthful years in a castle with a man that didn't even think about her, it was pure and also embarrassing for (y/n) to look back at her naive and selfless younger self.

“Oh, you are awake”

“I was waiting for you my dear”

She answered to her husband, her voice dripping honey for the first time in years. Their marriage was far from happy, (Y/n) had thought since she was to become his wife he would treat her with kindness, unfortunately that was not the case, he saw her just as a vessel for his children, when that seemed to not happen he fell to the arms of concubines and commoners, making her become this cold, distant wife he deserved. Sometimes she would wonder if maybe she had given him the heir he craved that maybe his behavior would change, that however was crushed by gratefulness she felt for her womb for not bring a child in this loveless household. She would have never forgiven herself if she raised a child that did not see their parents share at least one hug.

“What’s the cause of you lingering in our room (y/n)?”

“To celebrate, here my king”

She offered him the glass of wine she was holding on her left hand, it was filled with his favorite wine. Her husband took it and gave her a puzzled look, whenever he would sleep in the same room with her- which wasn’t often- he would find her asleep.

“What are we celebrating?”

“My birthday dear”

He was left confused at her smile and statement. It couldn’t be, they held a public celebration for her birthday every year, it was protocol for the queen to allow the public in the castle for her special day. The clink of the glasses echoed around the room, she brought the glass to her lips and took a light sip

“Come on dear, drink up. You were never one to shy away from a glass of wine”

She pushed the glass from the bottom up to his lips. He did not understand the cause of all this, yet whatever the case was she was right, the moment he tasted the delicious wine he took three gulps and the glass went from full to half empty.

“Excellent, I’m glad you enjoyed the wine my king, careful,.. the choking will probably start any minute now”

-

“My queen, we have been waiting for you to... rise for so long”

“Perfection takes time”

She answered to her most trusted confident,her coronation was something that would remain in history for centuries, she was adored by the public so when she inherited the crown after her last husband, everyone knew they were in safe hands. That does not mean the rumors did not arise to the situation, the late king was a healthy young man, it was very suspicious how he fell to darkness overnight.

She meant what she told him when she mentioned her birthday, that day she shed away her foolish acts and was reborn, a woman that stood strong in the field of womanhood, ready to take what’s hers whether people liked it or not.

She looked around the room, seeing her people enjoy their night and drink to her name felt so natural to her, she was meant to lead. 

“Excuse me just for a moment, I want to get closer to my people”

“As you wish my queen”

As she started going around at a slow pace she did her best to observe her people, they seemed to enjoy themselves, they acted like the king never existed, like the soil on top of him had been thrown decades ago, she smiled at herself while thinking that she acted in a way her people wanted, pleasing them and herself with just a few drops of that special liquid.

It was then that she noticed the back of a tall man, his long white hair and his armor stood out from the others, she also took note that he was accompanied by a much smaller and probably younger man that was holding a lute. It couldn’t be? The infamous white wolf and his barb at her coronation? 

“What are we doing here Jaskier?”

“Celebrating the queen officially getting the crown after her husbands oh so sudden death”

Jaskier was fascinated by her history, a princess known for her noble nature and beauty, he reminisced of the song he had heard about her, she was the master of horses, the late king had met her when she rode the most stubborn and difficult horse in the royal stable, married to the king at her prime and failing at giving him an heir.

He was surprised she got to kill him first before the late king did, not only that but she is now the one sitting on the thrown after the kings death under some suspicious circumstances.

“sudden death? hmm, I believe the king found out  that his destiny was a woman in a harsh way”

“Every mans destiny is a woman.... Witcher”

As he heard the voice from behind him he turned around to see to whom it belonged to. Jaskier’s mouth formed a big “O” when he was met with the queen, Geralt figured out who she was by the crown sitting on her head. The first thing she noticed was his yellow eyes, she found them so captivating, unique, she had never seen a witcher from up close, it was also just her luck that brought her the most handsome one. 

Geralt didn’t know what to say, he was at her celebration, talking badly about the queen herself, he knew the consequences he just didn’t know if the queen would choose torture or immediate death as the penalty

“Queen (y/n), my apologies, Geralt has had a bit too much to drink, please spare him”

Jaskier might be a bit overly giddy at the wrong time, however that did not mean that what Geralt ha implied could make the queen want his head right then and there. As Jaskier bowed at her, she only let a small smile appear on her lips, softening her features towards the men that both looked distressed, she had to admire that she felt a bit of pride of making the witcher eat his words, judging by his reputation that did not happen every day.

“It’s alright, I know what the people are saying about me, it’s understandable”

“Understandable? Shouldn’t the queen rush to protect her reputation?”

“That’s what kings do when they feel their ego getting bruised, look around you Geralt, what do you see? The same people that have spread those accusations are dancing and yelling “long live the queen”, if anything my new found reputation is more promising”

Geralt was immediately interested, it wasn’t often that a queen would be alright with rumors and of such kind being passed around, as well as taking it as an advantage and being pleased about it. 

“Elaborate please”

“The kings of other towns will hear those rumors, now who would dare come and threaten the woman that killed her own husband for power? Only a mad man would risk coming to my home”

She was smart, cunning. Geralt had met people of royalty and understood exactly what she meant when she talked about fragile egos. On the contrary, she stood tall and proud, took advantage of the people that gave her a new source of power without them even knowing it. The essence of her as a human being could only be described as being royal, a woman of luxury that men would probably kill for just a glimpse of her naked skin

It only made him question the late king, how could he have wronged such a woman? was maybe her standards that were two high? or was it an act of revenge? Geralt felt the need to puff out his chest as an act of bravery, she was a quite tall woman and if you match that with the way she carried herself, it was a death mix, the late king was already one of the victims of it

“You mean that you are going to become other kings destiny?”

“I don’t believe in destiny, what destiny is varies depending on the people you ask, for my parents my destiny was to become an obedient queen and give birth to the heir, a child that shared the same blood with my late husband”

She said mildly disgusted, as a widower she would probably have to grieve, linger in her room and cry behind close doors at the loss of her love. It seems like nobody even noticed how she did none of that, like it was normal for her to through a celebration a few weeks after his death in her name, not only that but the people seemed to love it. Geralt gave her a smirk at her smart and a bit intriguing answer.

“Then what do you think is your destiny”

“To be in charge of my and my peoples future, destiny and fate are nothing in front of the power of a woman”

The way she talked about destiny showed how she truly embodied confidence and stability, she feared nothing, not even her future self, she only relied on her power. As she talked to him he couldn’t help but let his eyes look mostly towards her lips, her painted lips that moved in such hypnotic way, he felt compelled by her.

Jaskier just stood there watching the two people talk like they are long lost friends. The queen so many people felt uneasy just by her presence was now having a casual conversation with the witcher. Geralt was slowly but surely gaining respect for her, she was a woman of power, a woman that used her brain and situations to her advantages and held herself accountable for her future, she was a true queen.

Geralt smiled at her genuinely, he had met her late husband in the past, he recalled him being stubborn and stuck up, raising his nose at others that he thought were less than him. If he was alive there was no way he would find him walking around commoners

“hmmm, Well queen (y/n), I am sure your people will be safe with you leading this land”

“I hope that in the future I can count on you for aid”

“About what?”

“Danger of course”

She took one step closer to him, still keeping eye contact with Geralt. As he took in a deep breath he could smell the scent of lavender off of her, her hair shined underneath the light of the flames and her eyes glistered with confidence and pride, she was the definition of strength, just her look brought Geralt into defense mode, waiting for her words and thinking how should he respond correctly to her before she even opened her mouth. 

The skill of demanding attention and respect so silently was one that the very few of people that did had it were considered blessed, even though he was aware of that skill, still he had yet to meet one... until he met her.

“Loneliness can be an awfully dangerous thing”

She whispered just loud enough for only him to hear, as the other villagers laughed and sang around them, not even noticing that their queen was standing a few inches away from them, as well as being promiscuous to a witcher.

“I would be honored to protect the queen”

“I’m glad you feel that way, I’m sure you could be a great ally for me, geralt of rivia”

-

PART 2 

[agentsoftie]

morning meetings

summary: on vacation spencer rekindles an old love which brought him greater joy then he remembered

authors note: wow, this is my first fic in a while. hopefully it’s good. but yeah. i got this idea today too so i’m so sorry if it’s hella cheesy. but yeah

warnings: none! pure fluff

word count & pairing: spencer r & fem reader : 1.9k

remember to like and reblog!

The wind was blowing exactly 15mph and Spencer Reid had just arrived in Seattle. His job, as a profiler, took him all across the US. And his mind took him everywhere else. Although Seattle was different, Seattle was special. See, when his mother and father were still together, they took him here every summer. Because every summer they would come here, just to eat at Marge’s Hideout.

Today although, he wasn’t there because of his job. He was there on vacation. Or any form of that for him.

After checking out of his hotel and going for a walk on the pier, there was only one thing on his mind, coffee. Coffee from Marge’s.

So he picked up biked and went along the trail. Not using GPS, not since he had an eidetic memory, but since he knew the path by heart. Every good memory he’s had in his childhood always took place here, in Seattle. More specifically, on Louise’s Trail that goes straight through the town, and leading right to Marge’s Hideout. Although full of cobblestones and vines, it truly felt like you were at peace. At least for him, it did.

He knew he was coming to a stop on his wobbling journey as soon as he smelt croissants and pancakes. Stumbling and tipping over on his bike as he tried to get off, someone opened the door. And in through the door, he heard a laugh. The same laugh he had heard almost every day in his early 20’s. It couldn’t be, could it.

Quickly floundering to the door while trying not to trip over his own shoes, he kept thinking to himself. Or more though, all the memories washed over him. All of the ridiculous, joyful, and heartbreaking moments washed over him.

Finally getting inside, he heard it again. The same laugh. The same laugh he had heard all those years back. “Y/N?” He spoke causing a woman with rich brown hair to turn around.

“Spence,” she breathed out.

They both looked at each other until she finally broke the silence.

“Hi.”

He went over to her seat. Trying to maintain an appropriate distance you would have with a stranger. Although she wasn’t a stranger. She was his last love. And his only love.

Y/N and Spencer had dated for 4 years. It was her first day of orientation when she met Spencer though. He was assisting the class she was in, and she couldn’t help herself but to ogle at his clumsiness and awkwardness. So, she asked him out for coffee, strictly platonic though.

Of course, at first, he was quite conflicted to take up her offer, but he did anyway. Because she seemed nice, and he would never not take up an offer if it involved coffee. So they went there. And then again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again, and again, until he couldn’t take it anymore. So, he asked her out on a proper date. And after that, they both had fallen helplessly in love with each other. Although, after year 3 of them being together, things started to fall. He had gotten accepted into the BAU under Agent Hotchners authority, so he was barely he had moved to Virginia which meant long distance. At first, they thought they could do it, and they did, but that was until she had started finally her first year as an intern.

They started seeing each other less, and less, and less. And so they called it off. And although on the call, they kept everything reserved, it was all waterworks after. Y/N didn’t talk to anyone for a week and Spencer developed a drug addiction. Although at first, he thought it was because of what had happened with Tobias Hankel, he soon concluded that it was also powered by the breakup.

Of course, though, time passed. She started to see other people, and he started getting help. She started to really plan out the future, and he started to enjoy the moment, and live now, not in the past. She started to become him. And he started to become her.

“Ugh, how are you? Long time no see.” He said awkwardly as she kept on looking down.

“Good, good. How are you?” Her sweet angelic voice, which might have been silkier than before.

“Better.”

They both stayed in awkward silence for a couple of seconds which truly felt like decades.

“Here,” she said while moving to an empty booth, “sit.” And so he did. Him playing with his feet and her looking out the window until she suddenly asked a question. “So, are you still working at the BAU?”

“Yeah… Yep, still working there.”

“That’s nice.” She mumbled.

“How’s your work?” He asked, trying to start up a conversation as he pulled up a menu.

Suddenly something changed in her tone. She became more joyful. Happier. She straightened her back and moved the hair on her shoulder back. Spencer had noticed this. This was exactly what she would do when he asked about anything relating to what she was learning in college. She truly loved what she did, and for that, he was happy. “My work is great! I just got my first solo surgy, and that was fun! I mean, of course, it’s exhausting, but I truly love it. And Macey. You remember Macey right?”

Of course, he remembered Macey. Anyone who knew Y/N in college would remember Macey. They were the best of friends, absolutely inseparable. There wouldn’t be a time of the day where they weren’t together. All, except coffee time. Because that was strictly reserved for Spencer.

“Yeah, of course, I do. Who wouldn’t?” She simply laughed.

“Yeah, well she just got engaged!”

“Macey? Macey Williams? Married! She couldn’t keep a guy for more than 2 weeks.”

“I know! But a little after we broke up, she met this guy named Brian and they were just good together.”

It got a little quiet after she had mentioned the breakup. Spencer looked back down to his menu as if it was a foreign topic and Y/N frowned while grabbing a menu for herself.

Although her initial plan was to grab a coffee and go. Just like she always does, she decided to stick around today, knowing she wouldn’t get a moment like this again.

“So, what will you two lovely people want today?” The waiter chipped while walking up to them.

“Oh, I’ll have 2 buttermilk pancakes: blueberry. Scrambled eggs, and a coffee.”

“And I’ll be having a strawberry mango crepe, 2 croissants, and one coffee.”

“Great! Will that be all?” They both looked at each other then nonned. “Amazing, we will get your orders out as soon as possible!” And with that, she skipped away.

“So, besides work, anything fun happen to you?” Y/N questioned Spencer while toying with her bandaid.

“Well, I mean not much. I have an incredible team though! They are truly some of the most important people in my life. And my mother also of course. Although she hasn’t gotten better, I still write her a letter every day. And see her at least once every other month. And I’m a Godfather now!”

She always loved how excited he had gotten whenever he was talking about the BAU or his team. For such a messed up job, he truly loved it. And that’s all that really mattered.

She laughed, in pure and absolute joy. “Wow! That’s amazing,”

He laughed too. “It is! Isn’t it! What’s going on in your life? Besides works, please.”

“Well, besides work, I’m gonna say my life is going pretty well. You know, I have some friends, and I have this little town. My boyfriend and I broke up, but honestly, I’m glad we did. He was really holding me down. And I mean, without him ever breaking up, I would have never moved into this little paradise. Plus, I mean, it’s closer than my old home. But, I too am a godmother! My sister, Eleanor, don’t think you ever met her, but she had my niece. A true angel honestly. But yeah, my life has been going. Smooth and steady.”

“Well, I’m sorry that your boyfriend broke up with you, but his lost, right?”

“Well, it wasn’t mine, that’s for sure.”

Soon enough their food came, and conversations continued. A couple more coffees were ordered and so was another crepe. Spencer and Y/N sat in that booth for what felt like hours. Just listening to each other. Whether that be laughing or reminiscing about old memories. Spencer couldn’t help but look at her hair. How he was a sucker for that hair. Always was. And her laugh. Whenever she laughed, he smiles just a little more until it turned into a full-on grin. A grin full of happiness and joy. And for her, every time he would say anything remotely smart-assy, she would start laughing. Every single time. Because, no matter how much she used to love him, he couldn’t stand the fact that he knew everything. Except, of course when she needed to study for a test.

They soon though, had to carry on with their lives. Apart from each other. In a realm where they will never see the other again.

“Can I walk you to your car? I’m gonna bike around the city, and I don’t think I would feel safe knowing you were driving with me on the same road.” He teased.

“Ha ha okay, I get it. I suck at driving. But, to your case, I have, actually, gotten really good at driving.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever will you happy.” He teased her as she looked up at him and scoffed. Pulling out her keys from her clutch. “Well, this is my stop.”

“Alright. Well, then I better get going. It was marvelous seeing you again.”

Y/N now had a choice to make. 1: Go after the man she once loved and go on a date, knowing that the chances of a happy ending are few to none. Or 2: Leave this incident be and carry on with her life.

“Wait!” She called out. He immediately stopped. So she caught up with him. “Do you wanna, um, I don’t know, possibly just, maybe, go out? Whenever you’re next free on your stay?”

Unlike making such a big of a deal out of it like he did last time she asked him out for coffee, this time he immediately said, “Yes.”

“Really? That’s great,” she spoke in disbelief that he would say yes. “Well, when are you next free?”

“I’m free for the next week and a half.”

“Great see you on Wednesday!” She said whilst getting in her cars. But before she left, she asked him, “Wait, Spence, do you need my number? It hasn’t changed from the one you had so-”

“Nope! Edition memory, remember?”

“Who could forget.” She turned on her engine, and before heading out of the little town that was oh so special to him, she yelled something which he vaguely picked up. “Call me!”

And with that, Spencer set off. Aiming for the sunset on the once in a blue sunny day. And going to them there was only one thing he could think about, her number. Because, of course, he had the eidetic memory, so he was never going to forget. But that’s not the reason he remembered her phone. I never was, never will be.

tagging: @criminalmindsmoodrn, @marshmallowtraver, @himarisolace

[blackwidowyael]

One of those days

Hey y'all! I just received my first request from @thoughfulmilkshakeface, and here it is, hope you all enjoy! psa I am taking requests, mainly Natasha/Yelena/Wanda centric, and I dont do reader inserts or anything too smutty so feel free to leave smth in ma inbox ;)

Natasha has bad days. Clint knows this, and he also knows that the bad days will pass, making space for the good ones, where they can go out to the movies, or grab lunch, or take Lucky to play ball in the park without the change of routine sending her reeling.

It is these days that he treasures the most, when he can pretend, even if it is only briefly, that they are just another normal couple, with normal problems like squabbles over who’s turn it is to take out the trash or clean up after the dog.

Today is not one of those days.

Clint can tell from the moment they wake up. He cracks open an eye just in time to see the flash of metal handcuffs disappearing into Natasha’s nightstand.

The handcuffs rarely make an appearance anymore, and only on those nights where she is filled with an anxious restlessness, a sense of uneasiness that only the cool slicing of the metal can satiate.

She never talks about it, refuses to acknowledge that they still have a lingering control over her that she can’t quite shake. Clint understands what it is like to feel that lack of autonomy, and never pushes her to stop.

Lucky knows that Natasha has bad days as well. She stumbles past where he is eagerly awaiting breakfast, straight to the gym without so much as a glance in his direction. It is like she is barely even there.

Clint drags himself into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding hitting Lucky in the face as he reaches down to pat him through a haze of sleep. He fills Lucky’s bowl, and slides two pop tarts onto a plate. A smile almost reaches his face as he thinks about the plan Nat concocted to sneak them past the addicted demi-God upstairs.

And they wait for the last member of their family to return. Sometimes, an hour in the gym is enough to shake whatever demons were haunting her away and she returns more present, having slipped out of whatever funk she is in.

Today is not one of those days.

They watch the clock as the hands trail round the hour, and into the next. Lucky whines, pressing himself against Clint’s leg. He is weirdly intuitive, can always tell when something’s not right. Almost two hours have passed. Natasha’s coffee has grown cold in the pot.

“I guess you’re right, bud,” Clint sighs, rubbing Lucky behind the ears. “I’ll go check on her.”

At first, he thinks the gym is empty. Music blares out of the speakers as he scans every corner.

He finds her huddled in a crack between the wall and a punching bag. From her vantage point, she has a clear view of the entire gym, but she doesn’t even blink as he settles down in front of her.

Nat’s eyes are glassy, unfocused. Clint waves a hand in front of her face, trying to get her attention. He is wary of touching her when she’s like this, but he really needs to get her to the apartment. Clint can see the blood leaking through her pointe shoes, feet white with the ribbons tight enough to cut off her circulation. Slowly he loops one arm around her shoulders, the other under her knees, narrating as he does so.

No matter what, Clint wants her to feel at least some semblance of control.

“Alright, Tash, back to the apartment. I got you, it’s okay.” He glances at her briefly, to see if he has gotten a response, but she has retreated so far into herself that she can’t hear him. Dissociated, the part of his mind that has attended many therapy sessions with her, supplies.

She has frozen by the time he tries to deposit her on the couch. Eventually, he just sits down with her draped over his lap, hoping that the feel of him breathing would help to ground her. He thinks back to the day before, trying to remember what could have triggered it. Nothing springs to mind, although new triggers still pop up now and then. Maybe something from a mission?

Lucky worries when he sees Natasha like this. It makes Clint sad, and then neither of them will take him to the park. He leaps onto the couch, burying his muzzle in Natasha’s face and showering her with kisses. Suddenly, she stirs, breath shuddering in her chest.

“Nat, you’re okay, you’re safe. We’re in the apartment.”

One hand comes up, shielding her face, while she desperately tries to wriggle out of Clint’s lap. Her breath is beginning to come faster as she squirms, unable to escape Lucky’s slobbery hold.

“Natasha, it’s just Lucky, you’re okay.”

“Clint?”

“Yeah. Can you breathe with me?”

She can’t.

She can feel her breath whistling in her chest, coming faster and faster and despite this feel the lack of oxygen in her brain. Lightheaded. She doesn’t think her legs would support her right now if she tried to run.

Run away from all of this. All these emotions, clawing at her chest and anxiety buzzing in her brain and tingling on her skin and she can't breathe, she can’t-

Breathe.

One fist gripping Clint’s shirt, the soft fabric grounding, while simultaneously keeping herself as far away from him as possible, curled on the opposite side of the couch.

Through the icy panic, she tries to focus on his chest. Watching it rise and fall. She manages to take gulps of air to match, feeling the fog slowly evaporating around her.

“Idiot dog,” she mutters, pushing Lucky away from her.

The buzzing panic leaves her as quickly as it arrives, leaving her drained. The world is far too bright, too sharp, now.

Clint is watching as she tries to collect herself. Natasha feels her mask slamming into place, protecting her from the world and hiding her humiliation. She’s not sure how she got to the couch, but she can feel the concern and smothering pity rolling off of Clint in waves and she hates it.

She just wants to be alone, until she can forget again.

“Nat-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Clint presses his lips together. This repression shit can’t be healthy, but he knows better than anyone that there’s no point trying to make Natasha talk when she doesn't want to.

“Fine. We don’t have to talk. Can I at least look at your feet?”

Natasha glances down. Her feet are waxy, apart from the red marks made by the ribbons chafing. Blood has congealed around the box of the shoe, spattering its way up the shank.

“I can do it myself, Clint,”

“Natasha, I swear to God.” Clint pushes her back down as she tries to stand, going into the kitchen to grab the first aid box.

Carefully, he unties the ribbons, prying the shoes off her feet. The blood is sticky, and it takes a while for him to get them off without ripping the skin further.

Eventually, both shoes are discarded and he gets a proper look at her.

“Nat, what happened?”

Clint had hoped it would be an easy fix, just a couple of blisters, but apparently it wasn’t one of those days, and nothing was easy. Hundreds of shards of glass are embedded in the soles of Natasha’s feet, and when he looks back to her shoes, he can see more littering the soles.

He gets to work, painstakingly removing each shard and cleaning the cuts, before covering them in adhesive bandage. Questions can come later, when Nat is not still partially dissociated on the couch with a vase’s worth of glass in her feet. Lucky watches, resting his head on Natasha’s lap. This time, she doesn’t push him away, running her fingers through his fur.

“I needed to know that I hadn’t got soft.”

The words echo in the silence, although they were barely audible. Clint carefully schools his expression, keeping his posture open and relaxed.

“And dancing with glass in your shoes proves that how?”

“We used to do it,” Natasha pauses, staring intently at a spot on Lucky’s back, “before.”

Clint nods in understanding. It doesn’t surprise him, seems very on-brand given the sparse details she had shared over the years.

“You haven’t gotten soft, Tash. Why would you think that?”

“But I have,” she presses, leaning forward, “I see it all the time. They told me I could never form attachments, that it would make me weak. And I can’t do the missions I did before,”

“Can’t or won’t? You didn’t have any choice over taking missions, Tash. Just because SHIELD does things differently doesn’t mean you’re any less of an agent.”

“They’re in my head all the time,” Natasha admits. “I can hear them. Telling me I’m sloppy. Weak. They would be so angry if they could see me now. I just. I just needed to feel like I was,”

She breaks off, staring at her hands.

“Like what?” Clint prompts gently.

“Made of marble. That’s what they used to say to me.”

“They’re not here now, Nat. We are. Your family. You don’t need to be all perfect and tough around us.”

Nat shakes her head in exasperation, eyes roaming around the room as she searches for an explanation.

“But I still want them to be proud of me. It’s fucked up. I’m fucked up. They took everything from me and I still want to make them proud.”

“They tortured you, Natasha. They raised you, that’s not just going to go away. You’re not under their control anymore. I just want you, whatever that is.”

Suddenly, she can’t stand this conversation anymore, ignoring her protesting feet as she stalks into the kitchen. Clint follows, Lucky not far behind.

“Love is for children.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh, turning away to reach a mug. “You’d have to be stupid to want me.”

“I guess I really am an idiot then.” Clint reaches out, tugging on her arm until she is facing him.

“Lucky too,” he adds as the dog jumps up, pawing Natasha’s legs.

“Idiot dog.” A tiny smile graces the corner of her mouth.

“You’re more than just an incredible agent, Tash. You’re my best friend, my family. I love you.”

She ducks her head, staring at their intertwined fingers.

“I love you too, idiot.”

Clint grins. It was one of those days.

[mementomori-demimonde]

Old Wounds

Hidden Scars: I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI.1 / XI.2 XII - XIII - XIV - XV - XVI - XVII - XVIII - XIX - XX

Bonus Chapter (21):

Three years ago, you broke up with Miranda.

Or, to better say, three years ago, Miranda broke up with you.

After escaping Victor’s grasp and embarking on the flight headed to England, Miranda thought it was best for the two of you to be constantly moving around.

She easily procured fake IDs and documents and, as Mrs. & Mrs. O’Brien (so lame that you loved it), you checked in the most expensive hotels and made a mess of the room, only to be off the next day. Every bill was paid and the staff generously tipped, even though the money didn’t certainly come from your pockets as you didn’t have any: you found out it was fairly easy to transfer money around and trick the systems; at least all those hacking software lessons had proven useful, though you weren’t up to anything illegal - it was a matter of survivance, that was what you told yourself. 

Life was wild and exciting, every morning you were someone slightly different while remaining the same, every night you got lost in the scent of her, only to be woken up by her fingers exploring your body.

Miranda was never satiated. And while it was only a matter of sex, before, there was something addicting, now, that flickered between the two of you.

It was something you thought was unbreakable. Something so rare to be born in such a hostile condition that it would be so hard to kill that nobody would even try to.

You thought.

Miranda lit up the day you reached Glasgow.

You could see her eyes gleaming, you could see her sharp fangs shining at the pale light of the sun as she dragged you around, showing you this and that, telling you about her childhood while turning a child herself, innocent and carefree and happy enough to be pulling you in and kiss you in the middle of the road.

You stayed in Glasgow for five months after that, because she thought you were both safe.

You decided to rent a small apartment next to the theater because, apparently, Miranda loved the theatre and you loved discovering things about her just as much as you loved watching her glow as she watched the show and the people acting or the orchestra playing.

You even convinced her to take yoga classes and, except for a couple of smashed glasses when she thought a waiter was ogling you, and an exploded pillow when her football team lost to the rigors, she seemed to have learned how to manage her anger pretty well.

Even her part-time job as a dog-sitter helped her keep her calmness, even to balance with the frustration she would accumulate during her other job as a consultant; of what, you never worked it out completely, you simply knew it was something to do with finance, probably internationally. Miranda didn’t like to talk about it excessively - the pay was good, she seemed satisfied with it - so you let her be.

As for you, when the first opportunity came out, you accepted it right away: as a receptionist of a luxury hotel, you had a fair amount of working hours, perfectly timed with Miranda, and you were able to bake breakfast for the both of you, pack your lunch boxes and be back before her to prepare dinner when Miranda didn’t surprise you, instead, with some take out and a lit candle.

She uncovered a nice, unexpected side of her, but sometimes she still was the scary old Miranda, even when it wasn’t necessary, to your opinion.

Whenever she acted bad, you served her a banana on a plate instead of a nice dinner you baked, to commemorate the first meal she had you eat. Miranda would pout, eat the banana in silence, and ask for forgiveness between the freshly cleaned sheets. This worked the other way around too, of course, with the exception that she enjoyed herself a little too much, sometimes, prolonging the punishment to something more than just a banana for dinner. Either way, everything was solved in bed. Not that you complained about this method, of course.

You thought you couldn’t be happier; but you thought you could never be any less happy either, and, of course, you were wrong.

It was a casual question you blurted out without much thought.

One night, you were watching a cheesy movie on tv, just for the fun of hearing her complain while she had her legs slung over yours, silently demanding for cuddles she would never admit to be requesting. As the couple on the screen kissed and cried happily, you said “have you ever thought about marriage?”

Miranda froze. You tried to explain that it meant nothing in particular, it was just conversation, but something in her eyes had changed.

She never answered the question.

Days went by and you could tell that something had painfully shifted between the two of you.

You tried to take it back, make her forget with some rough nights, just like she used to like it, but nothing worked.

Miranda wasn’t the same.

And then, one morning she was simply gone, without a single explanation. 

After twelve days of waiting, you made peace with yourself that Miranda wouldn’t be coming back.

You started to hate everything you loved so quickly that even going out in the streets and hearing all those people talking Scottish made you sick, so taking the next decision wasn’t too hard, after all: you told Cecilia to mind the tabby cat Miranda pulled out a stray dog’s jaws and brought home for you to heal, vacated the apartment hotfoot and accepted the job as head manager of the hotel subsidiary in Rome, Italy.

 After a few weeks, you realized the change was exactly what you needed: Rome was amazing, you like the people and, most of all, the food. You even decided to join a gym so you could keep eating the delicious meals the hotel chef cooked for the staff and when the weather was good, you went for a run, early in the morning, enjoying the sight of the city lazily waking up. Late in the night, before going to bed, you would flick your tear-drop-shaped dagger and put it in the top drawer in the nightstand, only to wear it the next day, because now you felt naked without its cold blade pressing against your leg. You dropped the habit of wearing it on your thigh - it wasn’t practical with your work attire - but strapped to your calf or pocketed inside your boot. You hated yourself for it, but it couldn’t be helped. You tried to convince yourself it was just in case you had to defend yourself - it was sensible since you had to walk by yourself most of the time.

All things considered, you fit in well.

Your apartment is good, with a nice view on the Tevere, the pay is almost double the one in Glasgow and you can allow yourself some treats, from time to time, whenever you feel too blue to stay in the apartment by yourself.

You contemplated the idea of getting a pet for a time, but you decided against it since that too would awaken sour thoughts.

You tried to date for a while, but nobody was enough.

Nobody compared to her.

Despite everything Miranda did to you, her memory was latched to your brain like a plague.

It still is.

Sometimes, only some heavy drinking can get her out of your head.

 You weren’t on duty tonight, and while you’re coming back from a peaceful stroll, your colleague calls: there has been a great fuss in the hotel; he tells you about ambulances and police cars hurrying with the sirens blaring to arrest some psycho that attacked a woman in her room. A guy was shot, but you don’t register much about the events, nor do you ask for further information, eager to drop the argument and avoid some unpleasant memories rising in your mind. Guns, people attacking other people, blood… It’s all in the past.

Hurrying up the stairs and fishing in your purse for the keys, you barely notice that the door lock is slightly scratched.

You don’t pay attention to it, nor the way your key slides inside the hole, until you step inside your home, pawing at the switch, and the light doesn’t work.

Immediately, all your senses turn on, your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness, your ears eager to capture the smallest sound.

It’s the hair on the back of your neck that puts you in alarm. Rising for an imperceptible breath of wind, they notify of the imminent danger.

The next thing you feel is a strong arm wrapped around your throat, and a warm body pressed against your back.

The attacker clearly knows what they’re doing, but you do too.

Everything she taught you is stuck in your brain, branded on your bones.

In a flash, you lift your dominant leg just enough to grab the knife.

You plunge it into your attacker’s thigh without hesitation.

She - it’s a she - grunts in anger.

The hold of her elbow softens, her arm slides from your neck, her body moves abruptly from yours as she limps away, leaving you alone and scared, but in complete control of yourself.

“My, my. I am getting sloppy.” The voice sends chills down your spine. It’s warm, it’s smug, almost amused, and familiar. Terribly familiar.

Your heart, despite yourself, throbs painfully.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes from your lips.

“Good.” She says, “very good, m’eudail.”

Whatever doubt you might’ve had, now it’s completely gone. It’s not your mind playing tricks, associating a familiar event with a lost person, this is happening for real. Running away from England to another country, taking a new name, a new identity, rebuilding your life almost from zero has served you nothing: she still has found you.

“Miranda?”

Three years.

Three years you haven’t heard from this woman.

Three years you’ve tried to push it out of your head.

Three years of pretending it was just a nightmare.

Three years and she’s back as if it’s nothing, standing in your apartment like she owns the place. She does, in a way. Miranda still owns you, in the first place, whether you like it or not: it’s not your choice to make. Until Miranda decides to let you go, you’re hers. It’s inevitable. And you know, you feel it in your guts, that Miranda will never let you go.

Some exchange rings, some jump over an old broom; your ‘until death do us part’ was a carving in the shape of an M - not on wood or marble, but on flesh - and you wonder how could she be so scared of marriage in the first place if she, too, has made a promise for life.

She comes into the light pouring in from the windows: it’s sunset, and the streetlight has just been lightened up.

Like it’s no big deal, you watch her bend down and wrap her fingers around the handle of the knife and, with a quick motion, she pulls it out from her wounded flesh with minimum bleeding.

With a wince, you notice that her trousers are already stained with dried blood, mixing with the fresh one.

She straightens her back and bares her teeth into a crooked smile, her split lip glistening with droplets of crimson. It looks painful. She doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Her cheekbone is blooming with blue and purple, her throat bears a sore line around. Miranda wears her bruises as if it was makeup, proud and confident. And, oh, so beautiful like the night before she left.

You can’t help but feel concerned, which only adds to your frustration: you shouldn’t care about her, you shouldn’t feel so strongly about the blood running down her chin - she probably deserves it, and more - but you do care.

You watch her, powerless, as she stumbles toward the couch and lets herself fall unceremoniously on top of it, grunting as her bruised body slackens against the soft pillows. Her shirt is stained as well, her knuckles scraped.

“You’re beaten up.” You dumbly point out.

She lets out a dark chuckle and lolls her head back. Your eyes are drawn to the rhythmic movements of her throat as she swallows. You can almost taste the iron inside your own mouth - how many times she’s kissed you after a training session, how many times your sweat mingled with hers when you wondered if you were fighting or fucking.

It all felt so long ago and, still, it hurt like it was yesterday.

“Tried my best, but you can’t expect the featherweight to win against the heavyweight without a significantly favorable weapon. He was just a bigger psycho than me: came out on top, in the end.” Miranda murmurs, a smug expression deforming her features. “Victor, on the other hand-”

The name has your head spinning. His ugly mouse-face comes to visit on the blurry surface of your mirror every time you shower, the rough lines crossing your back are a distant yet a painful reminder of those days of imprisonment, confined in that small room with Miranda, uncovering her past, her job, her boss and his despicable ways. Those marks hurt, but not as much as it hurts the one on your left shoulder - not until now.

“You’ve gone back to work for him?”

After all you’ve been through, after all the pain he inflicted, after she promised to have him killed because he took it out on you, Miranda decided to still work with him. Betrayal didn’t even compare to what you felt.

How many things can change in three years? You lived a lifetime in two months, since Miranda kidnapped you. Three years, right now, are an eternity.

Miranda’s smile drops. Her blue eyes wander aimlessly around the room, stopping in a dark corner. They aren’t focused, but it’s easy for you to see the regret blaring in her lost gaze.

“It was what I am,” Miranda murmurs, her voice emotionless, “it was the only thing I knew.”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you. It feels like forever before you move your first step toward the couch, your gaze fixed on her as if you were trying to control a snake about to snap its vicious attack.

You know Miranda won’t move, not to attack you anyway, but you’re cautious when you speak.

“You’re talking in the past tense.”

“He’s dead now.” Miranda breathes out heavily. Her voice almost overlaps yours, as if she’s completely zoned out, not listening at all, unaware of her surroundings, as impossible as it seems. “I killed him, gave him what he deserved.”

The sheepish look she gives you is the sparkle that lits your flame. It doesn’t matter if Victor is dead now, the memories still haunt your dreams, and Miranda has gone back to work for him.

You feel cheated on, betrayed, and you still don’t know what she wants from you. Frustration builds up from within until you feel like exploding.

You would smack her and shake her by her shoulders if she wasn’t so bruised - and if she’d let you, of course, before succumbing to her strong arms and be stopped by force.

“Miranda, why are you here?” You would ask her to leave, tell her you can’t stand her sight… if only that was true. Angered beyond words by her persistent silence, you walk to her with heavy steps, until you’re in front of her, for the first time, towering her small figure on the couch. She looks frail, harmless, submissive, but you know she’s not any of those things. “Miranda-”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know how she’s managed that - if she’s pulled you down by the collar of your shirt, or hooked her fingers in your belt, or even hit the back of your knees with her foot - but you’re falling right onto her, like the controlled destruction of a building, collapsing right where the demolition expert planned. You try to catch yourself with one hand on either side of her head, fingers clawing the soft pad of the back cushion, even if it’s not necessary: of course, Miranda has caught you first.

Although ‘catch’ is not entirely correct. Her greedy fingers are grabbing your head, pulling more than supporting, and before you can realize what’s happening, her lips are on your mouth.

Oh, God, how much you missed her.

It’s not a nostalgic kiss, she’s not asking for forgiveness or awakening long-lost memories. Her lips are urgent, almost aggressive.

It’s like those three years never went by, as if a lot of things never happened: this one isn’t Miranda, but the mysterious woman who kidnapped you in the alley; she’s back to that unhinged creature that tortured you in the most pleasant ways, who turned a cage into paradoxical heaven where wrong was right and the pain was pleasure.

Too easily you fall back into the addicting spiral that bound you to her. You’re completely at her mercy, once again, with no power nor will to pull yourself out of it. Despite everything, you want more of her kisses, you want more of her touches, you want more of her, no matter if she’s rough or brutal - something of Miranda is still better than nothing.

Hungry hands travel fast from your face to your neck and, for a moment, you prepare to hold your breath thinking she will wrap her fingers around your throat to have you squirm in her lap, desperate for air, just to assert her total control, but you’re wrong. Miranda doesn’t stop: she paws possessively at your breasts, teasing your nipples through the coarse fabric - you hate a little how your body seems to react regardless of your mind, answering to her touch in all the right ways.

You always take minutes to remove your uniform, Miranda hasn’t taken more than one to leave you in your undergarments, confused and wondering if you were actually wearing something before she claimed ownership over you and your body, like always, like she was entitled since the beginning.

Her mouth travels fast, in tow, she nibbles and lavishes, sending electric sparks to your core.

You don’t dare speak, afraid that the spell will break, that you’ll wake up from a dream even though you don’t remember falling asleep, even if it feels real, so real, almost too real that you can’t bring yourself to renounce it.

The tip of her nose tickles the valley of your breasts when she kisses her way down your stomach and belly, her nails scratch dully at the small of your back, pulling your knickers down in one move.

You’ve never noticed how chill your apartment can be. Or maybe you’ve never been so hot before, within these walls.

Her mouth knows exactly where to tease you, her tongue touches all the right places and only in the right ways. Her body remembers everything, and at the same time, it feels new. She tastes you, pursuing the depths of you, almost as if she wants to drown right there and then.

Bare and vulnerable, you don’t even perceive the typical powering position on top of her; Miranda is always on top, also when she’s not.

You can only arch over her as she draws a hurried orgasm out of you, leaving you raw and trembling, your mind spiraling from contentment, nostalgia, and a deep sense of guilt and then back again, when her tongue doesn’t stop until she isn’t satisfied with a second climax, and a third.

It’s easy to lose count when Miranda is having her way. It’s easy to get lost and losing track of time and of yourself, it’s easy to set aside everything to chase her with your hips, desperate for everything and in everything.

She doesn’t allow you to catch your breath when she’s done. You barely catch a glimpse of her when she pulls away, working her jaw to relieve the soreness that has surely set in her muscles, but her eyes are elusive, disappointing you when you hoped to look at her and find the woman you know.

It’s just another confirmation that she is still somewhere else, at least in spirit.

You’ve learned to know her strength, despite her petite size, and yet you can’t prevent the surprised gasp that escapes your mouth when she pushes you off of her and into the couch on your front, so fast that you gape at the pillow below.

You struggle to adjust your head and tilt it to the side when you feel her climb on your thighs, her ripped legs grabbing yours with vicious force when she lowers herself, and despite being fully clothed, you can feel the heat from her core right below your bottom, where she sits.

You swallow in anticipation, shiver when her nails rake at your skin, and then, then everything stops. She pauses.

You feel all the tension leave the room like the fog lifting from the streets.

Her legs are looser when she shifts lower on your thighs, her hands are softer when she glides her fingers up the small of your back and they linger, for a moment too long, across your shoulder blades.

You want to say something, even say her name again, listen to your own voice calling Miranda while still striving to breathe, wearied by the pleasure her skilled tongue has brought you. But as soon as you take a small breath to speak, a startling weight on your back knocks the air out of your lungs.

You take a moment to comprehend that Miranda has leaned on the top of you, her chest rises and falls rhythmically against your back, her breath tickles your left shoulder and you blink at the fact that her cheek is probably resting on her carved initial, and not just by chance.

You mentally count three seconds in, three seconds out. Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine.

“Had to find you.”

It’s a murmur, barely a whisper, so small you even doubt you heard it for real or just in your head.

“What?”

You try to squirm from below, eager to watch her face, read in her eyes if she’s making fun of you in the cruelest of ways or not. Her voice has tricked you on many occasions… or not. Maybe it was her eyes. Maybe it’s better for both of you if you can’t cage into each other’s eyes.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, relax your muscles, stop your hands from scrambling in the purchase of a steady surface to push yourself up and Miranda off of you.

It’s better this way: she won’t talk, otherwise.

“Thought I could do it.” She sighs, her lips move on your skin, leaving a moist halo around her lips. “Thing is… that I could.”

“You’re talking about-”

“Glasgow.” She snaps. You feel her clenching her jaw tight. “When we lived together.”

“You’re scared that you could live normally?”

Silence.

“You don’t understand.” She huffs. “People like me can’t usually walk away whenever they please and forget about their pasts.”

“But you did.” You retort. “We were fine.”

Miranda chuckles. It’s a bittersweet one, and it ends quickly.

 “I was doing fine before you came.” She clarifies. It clarifies nothing, but you don’t dare to interrupt, fearing she’ll just walk away for good. “There’s a reason why so many have failed. No one was able to ruin me while I ruined them. No one was you.”

You can breathe easily now that Miranda has rolled off of you.

You turn to your side quickly, eager to follow her with your eyes and make sure she won’t take the door and never come back after such a declaration. Rare have been the times you’ve heard Miranda talk in such ways and you can only imagine what is the prelude for: something fatally bad, or something impossibly good.

In the forced darkness of your apartment, the blue of her eyes glows at the dim reflection of the streetlights.

Her voice echoes in your head.

When you initiate the kiss you’re surprised she doesn’t pull back. She doesn’t even complain. She doesn’t grab your face or the back of your neck, she doesn’t claim the lead.

It’s startling, and it’s a foreign sensation you’re not used to, at all.

You barely register the soft rustle of fabric as you chase her taste and mingle it with yours.

And then finally you feel her hands on yours, her slender fingers reaching for yours and sliding almost perfectly in between, like pieces of a puzzle.

She swallows your breathy moan.

You haven’t expected your hands to be drawn closer to the warmth of her body. She lets her fingers move to your wrists, she lets them loop around the protruding bone there - she doesn’t squeeze, she doesn’t pull nor push - leaving your pads free to roam over her stomach, through the small crack of her shirt, gliding over the taut skin of her abdomen. You feel new bumps, new scars perhaps.

She squirms when you push a little too hard against her hip bone.

Or, maybe, she doesn’t exactly squirm.

You feel her adjust, raising her pelvis off the couch, but not to ease discomfort.

Your fingertips slip easily beyond the band of her high-waist trousers.

Miranda doesn’t move.

She’s even stopped the kiss, letting you decide.

It’s an open invitation - a request, perhaps - to touch her, properly, like you’ve been asking, for weeks, silently, before you decided to voice your thoughts and your feelings. 

Everything went downhill from there.

Your breath catches, the long-awaited moment feeling so terrifying, now, that you can’t bring yourself to just stop thinking and follow your guts, your innermost desires, to claim what has been denied to you for so long.

Miranda wouldn’t have hesitated. She didn’t hesitate to take when she wanted and could.

Thing is, you’re not her.

You pull away from her in a blink, your fingers tingle with unsatisfied electricity when you hide your face in your hands.

“Miranda.” You growl. Your voice comes out muffled from behind your palms. You’d want to yell at her, berate her, but it only comes out desperate, you sound on the verge of crying. Maybe you are. “What are you doing?”

Her hands are touching your wrists again. She’s gentle. More than she’s ever been. She forces you to unpeel your hands from your face.

In the dim light from the streetlights, her eyes shine again. They seem full of unshed tears, but you don’t want to fool yourself with dull illusions that don’t belong, with every possibility, to either of you.

Miranda doesn’t talk. You know it, you can see it, there’s a whole universe of things she’s dying to say, and still… she doesn’t speak.

You let out a shaky breath, sit lower on her legs, your gazes locked.

“Miranda, what’s your point?” You try again, softer this time.

She opens her mouth to speak then, only to close it soon after with a frustrated sigh.

You can’t endure more of it. You’re too spent to keep playing.

Miranda speaks only when you push yourself off of her, trying to stand up.

“My point is- I’m done.” She huffs out a disbelieving chuckle as if it’s the first time she’s told that, to herself even; the first time she’s truly grasped the idea and made it final. “I’ve got tons of money now and I can leave it all behind.”

“Miranda-”

“We can leave it all behind.” She corrects. One of her hands slithers to the small of your back, pushing you down to keep you near. It’s confident but for the first time, somehow, it’s not possessive. “Start over, for real.”

You swallow a mouthful of sand. Your head is spinning. You even wonder if something has possessed Miranda’s body and has turned her into some normal person who is actually repentant and is willing to start over.

How much can a person change in three years? Does it also apply to Miranda? The rules of mortals apply to such mysterious creatures like her?

You’re about to ask for a moment when you hear a distinct mew.

“What the fuck-” You startle, snapping your head toward the kitchen. It’s hard to see, but there’s definitely something on the counter. A box, maybe a crate. With something furry poking out. “You brought the cat?!”

Miranda’s lips are crooked into a sheepish smile when you look back at her.

“Please?” She whispers. Her voice is velvety against your lips, so close you could answer with a kiss. “What do you say?”

Maybe you will answer with a kiss.

Maybe.

[faraway-wanderer]

BOOKS BY ASIAN AUTHORS MASTERLIST #stopasianhate

In light of recent events and the growing anti- Asian hate in the US and UK over the course of the pandemic I wanted to put together a masterlist of books by Asian authors. Obviously, it’s not extensive and there are HUNDREDS out there, but supporting art by Asian creators is a way of showing support; read their stories, educate ourselves. It goes without saying that we should all be putting effort into reading stories of POC and by POC because even through fiction we’re learning about different cultures, countries and heritages. So here’s some books to start with by Asian authors!

Here is a link also for resources to educate and petitions to sign (especially if you don’t read haha). It’s important that we educate ourselves and uplift Asian voices right now. Your anti-racism has to include every minority that faces it.

https://anti-asianviolenceresources.carrd.co/

for UK peeps, this is a good read: We may not hear about the anti Asian racism happening here, but it is definitely happening. https://www.harpersbazaar.com/uk/culture/culture-news/a35692226/its-time-we-stopped-downplaying-the-uks-anti-asian-racism/

 THE BOOKS:

·         War Cross- Marie Lu ( the worldbuilding in this is IMMENSE.)

For the millions who log in every day, Warcross isn’t just a game—it’s a way of life. The obsession started ten years ago and its fan base now spans the globe, some eager to escape from reality and others hoping to make a profit. 

·         Star Daughter- Shveta Thakrar

A beautiful story about a girl who is half human and half star, and she must go to the celestial court to try to save her father after he has fallen ill. And before she knows it, she is taking part in a magical competition that she must win!

·         These Violent Delights- Chloe Gong (I told my little sister to read this book yesterday bc she has a thing for a Leo as Romeo- so if you want deadly good looking Romeos, badass Juliet’s and to learn about 1920s Shanghai- this is for you.)

The year is 1926, and Shanghai hums to the tune of debauchery. A blood feud between two gangs runs the streets red, leaving the city helpless in the grip of chaos. A Romeo and Juliet retelling.

·         The Poppy War- R.F Kuang (My fave fantasy series just fyi- it’s soul crushing in the best way. Rebecca Kuang is a god of an author).

A brilliantly imaginative talent makes her exciting debut with this epic historical military fantasy, inspired by the bloody history of China’s twentieth century and filled with treachery and magic, in the tradition of Ken Liu’s Grace of Kings and N.K. Jemisin’s Inheritance Trilogy.

·         Loveboat Taipei-  Abigail Hing Wen  (Really heartwarming and insightful!)

When eighteen-year-old Ever Wong’s parents send her from Ohio to Taiwan to study Mandarin for the summer, she finds herself thrust among the very over-achieving kids her parents have always wanted her to be, including Rick Woo, the Yale-bound prodigy profiled in the Chinese newspapers since they were nine—and her parents’ yardstick for her never-measuring-up life.

·         Sorcerer to the Crown- Zen Cho (if anyone is looking for another Howl’s Moving Castle, look no further than this book)

At his wit’s end, Zacharias Wythe, freed slave, eminently proficient magician, and Sorcerer Royal of the Unnatural Philosophers—one of the most respected organizations throughout all of Britain—ventures to the border of Fairyland to discover why England’s magical stocks are drying up.

·         Emergency Contact- Mary H.K. Choi (very wholesome and fun rom-com!)

For Penny Lee high school was a total nonevent. When she heads to college in Austin, Texas, to learn how to become a writer, it’s seventy-nine miles and a zillion light years away from everything she can’t wait to leave behind.

 ·         Jade City- Fonda Lee (I am reading this currently and can I just say- I think everyone who loves fantasy and blood feuds in a story should read this.)

JADE CITY is a gripping Godfather-esque saga of intergenerational blood feuds, vicious politics, magic, and kungfu. The Kaul family is one of two crime syndicates that control the island of Kekon. It's the only place in the world that produces rare magical jade, which grants those with the right training and heritage superhuman abilities.

 ·         A Pho Love Story- Loan Le

When Dimple Met Rishi meets Ugly Delicious in this funny, smart romantic comedy, in which two Vietnamese-American teens fall in love and must navigate their newfound relationship amid their families’ age-old feud about their competing, neighbouring restaurants.

·         Rebelwing- Andrea Tang

Business is booming for Prudence Wu. A black-market-media smuggler and scholarship student at the prestigious New Columbia Preparatory Academy, Pru is lucky to live in the Barricade Coalition where she is free to study, read, watch, and listen to whatever she wants.

·         Wings of the Locust- Joel Donato Ching Jacob

Tuan escapes his mundane and mediocre existence when he is apprenticed to Muhen, a charming barangay wiseman. But, as he delves deeper into the craft of a mambabarang and its applications in espionage, sabotage and assassination, the young apprentice is overcome by conflicting emotions that cause him to question his new life.

 ·         The Travelling Cat Chronicles- Hiro Arikawa

Sometimes you have to leave behind everything you know to find the place you truly belong...

Nana the cat is on a road trip. He is not sure where he's going or why, but it means that he gets to sit in the front seat of a silver van with his beloved owner, Satoru. 

 ·         Super Fake Love Song- David Yoon

From the bestselling author of Frankly in Love comes a contemporary YA rom-com where a case of mistaken identity kicks off a string of (fake) events that just may lead to (real) love.

  ·         Parachutes- Kelly Yang

Speak enters the world of Gossip Girl in this modern immigrant story from New York Times bestselling author Kelly Yang about two girls navigating wealth, power, friendship, and trauma.

·         The Grace of Kings- Ken Liu ( One of the Time 100 Best Fantasy Books Of All Time!)

Two men rebel together against tyranny—and then become rivals—in this first sweeping book of an epic fantasy series from Ken Liu, recipient of Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy awards.

·         Wicked Fox- Kat Cho

A fresh and addictive fantasy-romance set in modern-day Seoul.

 ·         Descendant of the Crane- Joan He

In this shimmering Chinese-inspired fantasy, debut author Joan He introduces a determined and vulnerable young heroine struggling to do right in a world brimming with deception.

 ·         Pachinko- Min Jin Lee

Richly told and profoundly moving, Pachinko is a story of love, sacrifice, ambition, and loyalty. From bustling street markets to the halls of Japan's finest universities to the pachinko parlors of the criminal underworld, Lee's complex and passionate characters--strong, stubborn women, devoted sisters and sons, fathers shaken by moral crisis--survive and thrive against the indifferent arc of history.

·         America is in the Heart- Carlos Bulosan

First published in 1946, this autobiography of the well known Filipino poet describes his boyhood in the Philippines, his voyage to America, and his years of hardship and despair as an itinerant laborer following the harvest trail in the rural West.

 ·         Days of Distraction- Alexandra Chang

A wry, tender portrait of a young woman — finally free to decide her own path, but unsure if she knows herself well enough to choose wisely—from a captivating new literary voice.

·         The Astonishing Colour of After Emily X.R Pan

Alternating between real and magic, past and present, friendship and romance, hope and despair, The Astonishing Color of After is a novel about finding oneself through family history, art, grief, and love. 

·         The Gilded Wolves- Roshani Chokshi

It's 1889. The city is on the cusp of industry and power, and the Exposition Universelle has breathed new life into the streets and dredged up ancient secrets. Here, no one keeps tabs on dark truths better than treasure-hunter and wealthy hotelier Séverin Montagnet-Alarie. When the elite, ever-powerful Order of Babel coerces him to help them on a mission, Séverin is offered a treasure that he never imagined: his true inheritance.

·         When Dimple met Rishi- Sandhya Menon

Dimple and Rishi may think they have each other figured out. But when opposites clash, love works hard to prove itself in the most unexpected ways.

·         On Earth we’re briefly Gorgeous- Ocean Vuong

Poet Ocean Vuong's debut novel is a shattering portrait of a family, a first love, and the redemptive power of storytelling.

·         Fierce Fairytales- Nikita Gill

Complete with beautifully hand-drawn illustrations by Gill herself, Fierce Fairytales is an empowering collection of poems and stories for a new generation.

 BOOKS BEING RELEASED LATER THIS YEAR TO PREORDER:

·         Counting down with you- Tashie Bhuiyan- 4th May

A reserved Bangladeshi teenager has twenty-eight days to make the biggest decision of her life after agreeing to fake date her school’s resident bad boy.

How do you make one month last a lifetime?

·         Gearbreakers- Zoe Hana Mikuta- June 29th

Two girls on opposite sides of a war discover they're fighting for a common purpose--and falling for each other--in Zoe Hana Mikuta's high-octane debut Gearbreakers, perfect for fans of Pacific Rim, Pierce Brown's Red Rising Saga, and Marie Lu's Legend series

·         XOXO- Axie Oh- 13th July

When a relationship means throwing Jenny’s life off the path she’s spent years mapping out, she’ll have to decide once and for all just how much she’s willing to risk for love.

·         She who became the sun- Shelley Parker-Chan- 20th July

Mulan meets The Song of Achilles in Shelley Parker-Chan's She Who Became the Sun, a bold, queer, and lyrical reimagining of the rise of the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty from an amazing new voice in literary fantasy.

·         Jade Fire Gold- June C.L Tan- October 12th

Two girls on opposite sides of a war discover they're fighting for a common purpose--and falling for each other--in Zoe Hana Mikuta's high-octane debut Gearbreakers, perfect for fans of Pacific Rim, Pierce Brown's Red Rising Saga, and Marie Lu's Legend series

  Keep sharing, signing petitions and donating where you can. The more people who are actively anti-racist, the better. And if your anti-racism doesn’t include the Asian community then go and educate yourself! BLM wasn’t a trend and neither is this. We have to stand up against white supremacy, and racism and stereotypes and we have to support the communities that need our support. Part of that can include cultivating your reading so you’re reading more diversely and challenging any stereotypes western society may have given you.

 Feel free to reblog and add any more recommendations and resources of course!

[lunapwrites]

Omg I'm dying with the titles!!! Can I have something from "waiting room"?

Hi hello yes friend! <3 I am fairly certain this is another bit from LTL, but let me check...

OH NO. Ohhhhh this is from a VERY OLD version of the bathtub scene (still Remus POV!), before I ended up reworking a bunch of things. I'll note what changed under a cut, but uh. Here is a small, inoffensive snippet of this one lol

-

"I can't believe you did this." Dora snorted, squirting different coloured dyes into several small bowls. They'd broken out the good china for this exercise, he'd noticed. "I absolutely can." Sirius sighed dramatically, and Remus was beginning to suspect he'd somehow switched consciousness with his fifth-year self. "I just fancied a change."  "Then paint some walls or something, you prat, not…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Sirius' hair, which truly looked horrid. "Eugh, look, no offence, cariad, blond is not your colour." "You don't think it makes me look like my cousin? My dear old mother used to say we had the same cheekbones." He pursed his lips, tapping his cheek with his index finger. He did have lovely cheekbones, but that was rather beside the point. "Probably why she tried to marry me off to her, come to think of it." "Cissy had actual colour to her hair. This is… erm…" "White?" Dora supplied, grinning as though she weren't at least partially responsible. "Well, that's a word for it, isn’t it? Thank you Dora." Sirius scowled; the effect was rather ruined by how ridiculous he looked. Don't laugh, Lupin, you'll just get him all het up again. Whatever made him happy, right?

Right. "I’m never staying blond, ta very much." Dora winked at Remus, then grabbed Sirius' head firmly and turned him so he was looking straight down into his lap. "Too right you're not, now sit still so I can apply this."

-

OK, so if you want to see the changes...

This was the version where Remus ALSO sat down and let Dora dye his hair (he no longer does this.) Fun fact: this is what my PFP is from lol. I'm still a little sad I lost that bit, but. Oh well. It really wasn't that important.

The hearing never happened in this version, so Sirius was still trying to figure out a legal way to clear his name rather than Remus flinging himself at the situation like an angry cat.

The whole borderline alcoholism angle with Sirius was not addressed yet like it has been in LTL-canon, and the problem was going to be a lot worse. I decided to walk it back a little because he didn't really get the chance to full-on spiral down that particular well like he did in actual-canon.

This version takes place the same night the Weasley kids + Harry show up at Grimmauld Place. I pushed it up earlier in the month instead because it was WAY too messy and honestly I didn't want to put a bunch of anxious teens in the same house as a couple of inebriated adults. As I was writing it out, the discomfort overrode any comic value.

Sirius got to be The Adult In The Room, which... I ended up reworking as a concept into some better/healthier moments, since it's important for his character arc.

The discussion between Remus and Dora re: his past addiction issues was originally going to happen here, and Remus was also going to mentally draw parallels between his past and Sirius' current struggles. I felt it was a little too on the nose.

I had been laying the groundwork for actual UST between Dora and Sirius here, which no longer strictly lines up with where they're headed in LTL.

There was a photograph of Remus with green hair. I will be working this into LTL canon SOMEWHERE, or so help me XD

Remus took paint thinner to Walburga's portrait, and Dora drew a dick on her with a sharpie which she couldn't scream about, owing to no longer having a mouth. While the scene is hilarious, I could not in good conscience keep this as is, and the writing in the dialogue is so genuinely terrible I want to cry lol. (Not like the words they're saying are bad, just I was still in the "need to write the way they sound" mode, and it just isn't a good look, it's going back in the hole forever.)

There's probably some other changes here but yeah, just generally tone and trajectory and pacing and plot alllllll changed from where this was at initially lol.

Thank you for the ask!!

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 28th of July 2021

This is speculation only

Cards drawn 28th of July 2021

I am putting this reading under a cut so you can skip over it if you want. I can not emphasise enough that this is speculation only.

Question: Was Prince Charles sexually involved with Meghan Markle in any way?

I did a private draw on this this reading around November last year, and the answer I got then was that Meghan definitely offered, but I couldn't tell whether Charles had taken her up on the offer or not. Yesterday, the question and prior reading came to my mind after I read a comment on one of my other recent readings, and the question tugged at me until I drew cards on it. I was looking for further clarification on the 'did he or didn't he' aspect. I was expecting a No, he did not, but what I got was very different.

Interpretation: At the very least, there was some heavily sexually charged flirting going on. There are several indications that this went further.

Card One: The King of Swords. This is a person who is very good at strategy and cold, rational thinking uninfluenced by any emotions or even morality. The person on the card is Odysseus (Greek) or Ulysses (Roman), the King of Ithaca who spent ten years getting home after the Trojan wars because he had angered the gods. His voyage took him to many perilous situations, and he had to use all his wits and guile to get out of them, with some methods being not exactly honest. He was seen by the Greeks as a master of strategy but called 'cruel' and 'deceitful' by the Romans.

This energy from this card is that of Meghan's attitude to flirting/being sexually available to Charles. Like the two faces of Odysseus, she pursued what she saw as good strategy even though it involved being deceitful and even cruel to others. She thought that this behaviour was the best strategy to get get her what she wanted, and she went for it. The fact that Charles was married to Camilla and she was engaged/married to Harry did not bother her one bit.

Card Two: The Devil. The figure on this card is of Pan, the god of nature and of your most basic instincts. The Devil itself is a card of being bound to addictions - sex, drugs, alcohol, gambling - and/or of following your most base level desires. it can mean being in an toxic relationship, being codependent, having toxic behaviours, habits and/or thought patterns. It can represent an inordinate love of luxury.

The Devil is the card for the sign of Capricorn, and it can mean the negative Capricorn traits of social climbing, obtaining higher social status at whatever cost, flaunting brands to show wealth and prestige, and so on.

I am getting two energies from this card. The first is Meghan. She was definitely sexually available to Charles if he so wished, and I think she was hoping to get Charles dependent on her or in her control using sex. She did this for the benefits Charles could give her - money, including her in royal events she would not have otherwise attended, money, possibly access to State jewellery, money, overseas tours, and money.

The second energy is of a base level sexual desire - I see, I want, I f*ck - nothing more complicated than that. This seems to be the level at which Charles would be operating if he took Meghan up on her offers, i.e. nothing more than the desires of the moment, like a drunken fling. I think he would be ashamed of himself afterwards, but it wouldn't stop him coming back for more if he wanted to. I feel that Charles has poor control over his desire for other women, so it is hard for him to turn down offers that he finds attractive. It is coming through very strongly that this is low-level sex, the gratification of the desires of the moment that does not last beyond the act itself.

When I was shuffling the cards, I said that if Meghan and Charles were sexually involved, to give me the devil card, and it appeared in the spread. I will leave you to draw your own conclusions from that.

Card Three: The Five of Wands. This is a card of conflict. It shows Jason and Medea fighting the dragon who guarded the golden fleece. Jason was only able to complete his quest with the help of Medea. He ended up abandoning her so he could marry another King's daughter, which would help him financially and politically.

The energy from this card is one of conflict, and the conflict is between a couple who have passed through troubled times together, as Jason and Medea did. The conflict was definitely caused by Meghan's flirting (and anything else that was offered). One half of the couple was worried that the other half would neglect them and their interest in favour of Meghan - that they would end up abandoned as Medea was.

In this conflict, Meghan is the dragon, who is trying to destroy the couple. I don't think Meghan set out to destroy the relationship, but she definitely knew about the conflict she was causing (as the dragon knew who was fighting it), and I am getting that it gave her joy that she was the source of the conflict.

Card Four: The Two of Cups. This is a card about relationships, of choosing to be in a relationship, of long term, enduring romantic relationships, and of starting a new relationship, and of reconciliations in relationships. The card shows the god Eros rescuing Psyche from where she was left to be devoured by a monster, a 'knight in shining armour' act that was the start of a long journey of growing into a mature relationship.

The main energy I get from this card is that of a long term relationship, and of reconciliation - overcoming trials to be together, as happened with Eros and Psyche, with the relationship changing as a result of those trials. The clarifiers show that the relationship is Camilla's long term relationship with Charles.

As the Two of Cups comes after the Five of Wands, this tells me that the conflict of the Five of Wands has affected the relationship shown by the Two of Cups. The conflict hasn't broken up the relationship, but it has been something that called for some sort of reconciliation in this long term relationship. Camilla and Charles have had to work together to reaffirm their commitment to each other and to heal the damage caused to their relationship by the conflict shown in the Five of wands.

As a card of new relationships, this card suggests that the conflict of the Five of Wands is based on the fact that Charles did have a relationship, however fleeting, with Meghan.

I drew two clarifiers for this card:

Clarifier One: The Five of Swords. The card shows Orestes being confronted with his duty by Apollo, a duty that is an impossible choice - he must kill his mother to avenge his father, but that will mean invoking the wrath of the Furies, as matricide is a sin against the gods. The card is about a situation that means that even when you win, there is a sense of loss.

The energy I am getting from this card is one of duty. Camilla will stay with Charles, as she sees that as her duty (and she does love him), but she stays knowing that he is susceptible to advances from other women, even after all these years together. Her 'winning' by keeping her relationship with Charles is accompanied by a sense of loss, as the trust between the two of them has been damaged. They can reconcile, but the relationship will never be what it was before Meghan's flirting and whatever else happened between her and Charles.

Clarifier Two: The Queen of Cups. This is a water sign person, particularly a Cancer, and in this spread it represents Camilla, who is a sun sign Cancer and in a long term romantic relationship with Charles. The Cups suit represents feelings in the tarot, and I think Camilla definitely has Feelings about this situation.

Card Five: The Ace of Wands. This card is about an upsurge of new creative energy, and in this reading it is sexual energy. The figure on the cards is Zeus, the chief god of Olympus who was well known for not being able to keep it in his pants, and he is holding a thick wooden staff that is spurting fire/creative energy everywhere. It does not get much more sexual than that.

Zeus represents Prince Charles, as in this deck the gods usually represent members of the BRF, and Zeus is the chief god just as Prince Charles is now the top ranking male in the BRF. There was definitely sexual energy between Charles and Meghan. Whether Charles acted upon that energy - the card says yes rather than no (as per the imagery in the above paragraph), but I am having trouble believing that, so if you are as well, I do not blame you.

This card, and especially Zeus on the card, reminds me of Charles's sexual past, and the stories about him having Camilla as his girlfriend and anyone who took his fancy on the side, and later on having Diana as his wife and Camilla as his mistress. The theme of Camilla having to share him with another woman/women is what stands out to me.

Underlying Energy One: The Tower. This is the card of s sudden, shocking event that destroys part of your life and leaves you to rebuild it from rubble. The card shows the god Poseidon, the lord of the sea, destroying a tower. The sea imagery is standing out to me, and this tells me that this tower moment is all about feelings (as water represents feelings), tumultuous feelings that echo the rough sea. Poseidon was also a god known for his fertility and his rampant sexuality.

I think that Charles's actions towards Meghan have stirred up some very strong feelings in Camilla, and as a result his relationship with Camilla was badly damaged. He may also have damaged his relationship with other family members by favouring Meghan, especially in the area of money. Both he and Camilla would have to work to rebuild their relationship after the damage caused by Meghan.

Underlying Energy Two: The World. This is a card about the end of a cycle. It is time to pause, reflect on the past, celebrate the success, and then to go forward from here. The energy I am getting from this card is very much 'the end of cycle' and not 'celebrate the success (of the end of a long term project)'. With the tower moment, something in the relationship between Charles and Camilla has come to an end. The relationship will continue, but something within it is over and has moved into a new way of being. It can not go back to how it was pre-Meghan.

Confirmation Spread: After I finished this spread, I asked again if Charles was sexually involved with Meghan, and I said if he was to give me the Devil or the Lovers card. I shuffled and drew the three cards shown under the spread:

1. The King of Cups, which is a water sign card, especially a Scorpio, and here represents Prince Charles, a sun sign Scorpio

2. The Lovers - The Lovers is a card about values and choices, especially choices in love. Do we choose relationships from a mature perspective, based on our long term values and beliefs, or do we choose them from an immature perspective, according to our base desires of the moment?

3. The King of Wands, which is a fire sign person, particularly a Leo, and here stand for Meghan, a sun sign Leo.

So we have Prince Charles, The Lovers, and Meghan.

I think the conclusion is obvious.

Conclusion: From the above cards, as much as I do not want to believe it, I have to conclude that Prince Charles and Meghan most likely had one or more sexual encounters - or at the very least, that the offer was there, it was blatant, and Charles was considering taking her up on it.

Meghan was willing to make herself available to Prince Charles sexually as a matter of strategy, to get more money and benefits from him. Prince Charles considered the offer and/or took her up on the offer from a base-level sexual impulse - the satisfaction of the desire of the moment. This act caused tension and conflict between Charles and Camilla, as Camilla thought that she and her interests would be neglected in favour of Meghan. It caused a rift and a coldness in their relationship. Even if what was between Charles and Meghan was just heavy flirting with the offer of sex, it still caused a rift between Charles and Camilla. Once again, Camilla was sharing Charles with another woman.

This event/offer/situation was a Tower moment for Charles, something that damaged his marriage and while the damage could be repaired, something in the relationship has changed and/or ended. It will not be the same as it was before Meghan's advances (whether Charles succumbed to them or not).

Note: I will be revisiting this question in a few weeks, if only privately, to see if I get the same answer or not.