#who will forget I exist the moment we step out of the building

[victory-cookies]

bc I can’t get full time at my current jobs my parents are insisting I find any other job for the time that I’m off school (before my co-op starts in the summer) but they also want me to get like. a “good job” and I don’t think they understand how hard it is for a uni student with no qualifications that wants to work full time but only for 3 months not in the summer to find a job that isn’t just the world’s worst retail

[tinylilacbun]

Rafe from s2 two, with the sweetest reader, who is completely crazy about the idea of nedding to be in control of *something* in his life, and little reader being his safe place because he gets to take care of her, he is going al psycho and just about to act impulsive again but then he remembers he has her, so everything is going to be fine, he tells himself🤧

Rafe stands on the balcony, pressing the balls of his hands into his eyes to stop himself from crying after just hearing from his dad how 'he fucked up everything'.

"Man up..." He mutters to himself, a choked sob escaping him.

His attention gets drawn to a phone dinging nearby multiple times, glancing to his left he sees Wheezie's phone laying on a table. After checking that no one's there he walks over to grab the phone, looking at all the messages from an unknown number.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who it is, his anger and frustration building up again. Sarah, the golden child. Every time it's about her and it pisses him off. This whole ordeal with his dad a few minutes ago was, again, just because of her.

A moment of hesitation passes as he thinks about confronting Sarah, to make sure she keeps her mouth shut about everything that happened. He's about to message her back over Wheezie's phone but he stops, he isn't in the right mind to act rational and this could all go south quickly knowing that somehow Sarah always manages to rile him up simply for just existing.

"No, no..." He mumbles, erasing what was about to send and delete the messages all together, blocking the number he places the phone back on the table.

Rafe steps back again just in time as Wheezie comes out. "Have you seen my phone?"

"What?" He turns to her.

"Have you seen my phone?" She repeats and Rafe sighs, acting all nonchalant.

"No I haven't seen your damn phone."

She groans and is about to leave, stopping in the doorway. "Oh, and Y/n is here. Said she'll wait in your room."

He visibly relaxes at the mere mention of your name, nodding his head he walks past his sister. "Thanks."

He makes his way to his room, opening the door and quickly locking it behind him his gaze softens the moment his eyes lock with yours, your bright smile and the happiness radiating off you just by seeing him.

"Hey baby." He smiles a little, striding over to you he cups your face in his large hands, leaning down to give you a quick kiss. "What y'doing here, hm?"

You frown at him. "You forget? You said we make disney night today..."

"Nah, 'course I didn't forget. It's- I was just wondering that you're here so early. Even went to get your favorite snacks yesterday." He says, letting go of your face he walks over to the dresser and opens a drawer, pulling out various snacks and throwing them on the bed beside you.

Rafe chuckles at your wide eyes from seeing all the sugar, knowing he'll have one hell of an energetic little on his hands but he couldn't care less right now. Your happiness is all he needs right now.

You're practically his therapy, it's funny how regressing is your type of dealing with all the stuff you go or went through but somehow heal him as well by letting him take care of you and making him feel appreciated for the things he does, unlike his dad.

The only thing he hasn't messed up yet surprisingly is his relationship with you. You're still looking at him like he's the only person on the planet, the only one you can run to when things get rough and Rafe relishes in that fact. It makes him have control of at least something.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when he hears you talk to him, holding up a bag of gummy worms. "Help pwease."

With a smile he walks over to stand in front of you again, taking the bag and ripping it open, dropping a few worms onto your awaiting palm before popping one in his mouth as well.

"So, what should we watch first?" He asks, grabbing the remote from his bedside he lays down beside you with his arm behind his head.

"Mmm...Beauty and the Beast!" You grin.

"A'ight, whatever the princess wants." He searches for the movie, huffing out a breath when you collapse beside him, letting you snuggle into his side with your lamb plushie tucked under your arm.

As the movie starts playing he wraps an arm around you, his cheek pressed against your head. "Y'know I love you, right? More than anything..."

You lift your head to look at him. "I love you too daddy. Mm, more than my lamb."

"Damn, that's...that's gotta mean something."

As long as he has you by his side everything will be alright, in his eyes at least.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

[glowettee]

💌 glowettee hotline: issue #001: navigating cliquey vibes: finding your light in chilly uni halls

(some text blocked in favor of anon's privacy reasons <3)

welcome to the very first edition of glowettee hotline, where we fix your study slumps, productivity spirals, and it-girl dilemmas with a mix of soft discipline, coquette motivation, and glowettee philosophies.

i’ve been obsessed with the idea of creating a space where we can romanticize self-improvement, push ourselves academically, and embrace that girl energy, without the burnout. and after receiving 17 (!!) submissions already, i know we’re onto something magical. love you all <3 - mindy

hi darling, hope you're having a lovely, wonderful day!!

i'm so excited you reached out with your q today, because i literally know how challenging it can be to feel adrift in a sea of cliquey vibes at uni. it really sucks when you're surrounded by friendly faces in one circle but then find yourself in classes where almost everyone else seems distant, unwelcoming, or even downright snobby. i totally understand the weight of feeling unsupported especially during group work or oral presentations. so, let’s chat through some super detailed strategies to help you not only survive but thrive rn in these tricky social settings.

navigating cliquey vibes: finding your light in chilly uni halls

by mindy @glowettee (glowettee hotline, submit here for personal advice: https://bit.ly/glowetteehotline)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚appreciating your core circle & celebrating your uniqueness⋆. 𐙚 ˚

firstly, your core friend group is such a precious gem. remember, having a close-knit set of people who know and love you is more important than being universally liked. here’s how to make the most of your supportive tribe:

• before tough classes or presentations, lean on your close friends. even a quick pep talk or a smile exchanged across the room can boost your confidence. • use your circle as a sounding board for your ideas. they can help you rehearse presentations or give you tips on how to navigate group assignments. • celebrate your wins together. even if it’s after a brilliant group discussion or just overcoming a day that felt isolating, take some time to share those moments. • remind yourself daily that your worth is not determined by the acceptance of everyone around you. you are a unique, clever individual radiating positivity. never forget that.

2. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚turning group projects into a positive challenge⋆. 𐙚 ˚

group assignments can be super intimidating when you’re unsure whom you can rely on. but think about it as an opportunity to discover parts of yourself you might not have met otherwise. here are some practical steps for navigating group work:

• start by introducing yourself warmly. a simple "hi, i’m [your name]—i'm excited to work with you all" can set a friendly tone. • initiate a casual group chat or a quick get-to-know-you meet-up before diving into the work. suggest grabbing coffee or even meeting in a quiet corner of the campus to chat. • assign roles based on everyone's strengths. this not only clarifies who is doing what but also gives everyone a chance to feel valued. propose clearly defined tasks by asking, "what part do you really love doing?" or "which part feels natural to you?" • if some group members remain distant or rude, focus on collaborating with those who are engaged. sometimes, it’s okay if one or two people are enthusiastic. quality over quantity. • always have a backup plan for situations when group dynamics falter. perhaps create a personal outline for the project and set aside time to rework any loose ends. this helps you retain control over your part of the assignment, even if others aren’t as invested.

3. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚building personal resilience and managing class anxiety⋆. 𐙚 ˚

feeling out of place in classes where few familiar faces exist is completely normal, but there are some really neat ways to boost personal resilience. i like to think of these techniques as little self-care rituals that build your inner strength:

• start your morning or class prep with affirmations. say something like "i am enough" or "i belong here" as you look in the mirror. these affirmations can be surprisingly powerful. • cultivate a mindfulness practice. even just five minutes of deep breathing before class can help center your energy. use mindfulness apps or even a simple timer to guide you through a quick meditation. • keep a journal of small victories. jot down every little win, like speaking up in class or even smiling through a challenging presentation. these notes become a lovely reminder of how far you’ve come. • set up a pre-class ritual that calms your nerves. even if it’s listening to your favorite song, enjoying a cup of herbal tea, or just giving yourself a gentle pep talk, these rituals let you enter class with a positive mindset. • acknowledge that it’s okay to feel anxious. instead of trying to push the feeling away, wrap yourself in understanding and self-love. after all, every uni student feels the pressure sometimes.

4. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚creating meaningful connections beyond your immediate classes⋆. 𐙚 ˚

even if certain classes feel socially isolated, there are countless ways to build community on campus. sometimes, the most unexpected connections can blossom into the most sincere friendships. consider these avenues:

• join uni clubs, societies, or interest groups that resonate with your passion. it can be a creative club, a study group, or a casual meetup for a shared hobby, these environments tend to be super welcoming. • attend campus events, workshops, or talks. these can be fantastic settings for meeting people outside the rigid structure of classroom interactions. it's a chance to meet someone who shares your vibe and interests. • volunteer for student-led initiatives. taking part in projects or community service can show you a side of your peers that you wouldn't normally see in a lecture hall. • look into mentoring programs or campus counseling services. many unis offer support that not only helps with academic stress but also with social challenges. sometimes, sharing your struggles with someone who understands can be incredibly reassuring. • consider creating a little interest group of your own if you notice others who feel similarly isolated. even a small, informal study or discussion group can help you forge lasting bonds.

5. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚reframing challenges into growth experiences⋆. 𐙚 ˚

it’s natural to feel disheartened when you face exclusion or cold responses. but often, these challenges are little nudges guiding you to develop a thicker skin and a stronger sense of self. try out these reframing ideas:

• view each uncomfortable encounter as a step towards personal growth. every time you overcome social hurdles, you’re building resilience and learning more about yourself. • remember that some people’s unfriendliness is more about their own insecurities than any shortcomings on your part. their behavior says more about them than it does about you. • channel any negative energy you encounter into creative or academic pursuits. write down your thoughts, doodle your feelings, or even consider a blog post about your journey. creativity is a wonderful way to turn pain into something beautiful. • celebrate your uniqueness. the qualities that set you apart are what make you valuable. sometimes, it’s exactly those differences that will eventually attract the right people into your life. • let every difficult experience remind you of the person you are becoming. each challenge faced is a victory in building your inner power and empathy.

6. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚personal rituals that keep you grounded⋆. 𐙚 ˚

i believe in creating a few personal rituals to help navigate the ups and downs of uni life. these little practices can serve as anchors on days when everything feels overwhelming:

• before class, take a quiet moment to enjoy a comforting cup of coffee or tea. let that be a moment just for you, a time to gather your thoughts and breathe. • keep a small token or journal with you. it could be a piece of jewelry, a lucky charm, or even a handwritten note that reminds you of your intrinsic worth. whenever you feel isolated, hold that token and feel the support it symbolizes. • make a mini “positivity checklist” for turbulent days: 1. take three deep breaths. 2. text or call a friend from your trusted circle. 3. quickly jot down one thing you’re proud of from the day. 4. give yourself a moment to reflect on a past success. • if ever the weight of anxiety feels too heavy, try a quick self-soothing exercise like stretching or taking a brisk walk between classes. little bursts of movement can reset your mind. • remind yourself that self-care isn’t selfish! it’s essential. investing time in nurturing your well-being pays off in your academic life and beyond.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆final thoughts & encouragement⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

i know how overwhelming it can feel rn when every class and group project seems to amplify your insecurities. but darling, every challenge is also a lesson in disguise. use these moments as opportunities to cultivate your strengths, build resilience, and discover new facets of yourself. your uni journey is uniquely yours, sprinkled with little moments of growth, learning, and even unexpected joy. sometimes, the journey might seem rocky, but every bump is teaching you how to rise a little higher each time.

remember, you are not alone. even in moments where you feel isolated, your inner strength and your supportive circle are there to hold you up. take these strategies at your own pace, experiment with what feels right for you and make adjustments as needed. your story is still unfolding, and every challenge you overcome adds another beautiful chapter.

sending you the biggest virtual hug and all the good vibes!! keep shining in your own unique way and know that these hurdles are just stepping stones to an even brighter future. i hope these detailed tips bring you some comfort and clarity, and if you ever need to chat or dive into more ideas, feel free to send more asks!! remember to take care of yourself and keep believing in your incredible journey!!

and that’s a wrap on glowettee hotline: issue #1. i am so obsessed with this already, and i can’t wait to dive into more of your guys' questions.

if today’s advice helped, let me know in the replies/reblogs: what’s one habit you’re changing after reading this? let’s romanticize self-discipline together. ✨

and if you have your own it-girl dilemmas—submit them here: https://bit.ly/glowetteehotline

(psst, i read every single one. 💌)

stay soft, stay productive, & stay glowing. 🌷 – glowettee

xoxo, mindy 🤍

[blissfulflw]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐼𝑙𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠

Pairing-Uchinaga Aeri (Giselle) x fem reader

Genre- Angst

Word count- 2304

A/N:This is my first fic so it might be a bit tacky but it’ll get better trust

You always thought if Aeri hurt you, it would be a mistake.

A drunken kiss. A moment of weakness. Something you could forgive, maybe even forget.

But this?

This wasn’t a mistake.

You stared at your phone, hand trembling as the messages kept coming in — pictures, timestamps, evidence you hadn’t asked for but couldn’t deny. Aeri, tangled in someone else’s arms, laughing in ways she hadn’t laughed with you in months.

Your apartment door clicked open behind you. You didn’t move.

You didn’t have to look to know it was her — you could feel the familiar sound of her keys, the careless way she kicked off her shoes, the soft call of your name.

“Baby? I’m home.”

You stayed silent, still clutching your phone like it was the only thing anchoring you to the ground.

When she stepped into the living room and saw you, she froze.

Her face, usually so easy to read, twisted — a flash of panic, regret, guilt — all surfacing at once before she tried to swallow them down.

“I can explain—” she started, but the words shattered between you like glass.

You laughed, but it came out broken — a dry, hollow sound. “Explain what, Aeri?”

You turned the screen toward her, forcing her to look at the images she thought she could keep hidden. “How you forgot I existed? How you loved someone else and left me here to wonder what I did wrong?”

Her eyes brimmed with tears, but you hated her for it.

She didn’t get to cry. Not when you had already done enough crying for both of you.

“Was it easier?” you asked, voice cracking. “To pretend I didn’t matter? To make promises you never planned to keep?”

Aeri opened her mouth, desperate, but no words came out. Just silence. The kind that felt heavier than screams.

You stared at her — the girl you loved more than anything.

The girl who had torn your heart apart piece by piece while pretending to hold it carefully in her hands.

And you realized something that hurt worse than any betrayal:

Aeri hadn’t fallen out of love with you all at once.

She had let you rot in the ruins while she built a new world without you.

And she never once looked back.

Aeri stepped closer, like she could fix this with proximity, like standing in front of you could erase everything she had done.

You stepped back.

She flinched like you had hit her.

“Please,” she whispered, voice shaking. “It didn’t mean anything.”

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to break something — anything — to match the way she had broken you.

“Didn’t mean anything?” you echoed, voice raw. “Then why does it feel like it’s killing me?”

You watched her crumble, but you didn’t feel sorry for her.

Not anymore. You knew it was a lie, because you’d always care for the girl but it was the adrenaline.

“I loved you, Aeri,” you said, your chest tightening so hard you could barely breathe. “I chose you every single day, even when you made it so hard. Even when you stopped choosing me.”

She wiped at her eyes, but you saw it — the way she couldn’t even look you in the face.

Because deep down, she knew it too.

“I messed up,” she said, voice cracking apart. “But we can fix this. I can fix this—”

“No,” you cut in sharply, your voice firmer than you thought it could be. “You broke something that doesn’t get to be fixed.”

The room felt suffocating now.

Everything in it — the couch you used to curl up on together, the pictures still smiling down from the walls — it all felt like a mockery. A life you thought you were building together, now nothing but a lie you had been too blind to see.

You dropped your keys on the counter with a hollow clatter.

“I’m not staying,” you said, and the finality of it tasted like blood in your mouth. But was it really finality?

Aeri reached out, desperate, “Don’t—please, don’t leave like this—”

You stepped around her, refusing to let her touch you, refusing to let yourself break any further.

“You already left first,” you whispered.

And with that, you walked out the door.

No dramatic slamming.

No last glance over your shoulder.

Just the soft click of goodbye, and the weight of everything you lost pressing down with every step you took away from her.

The days after you left blurred together.

You didn’t block her number. You didn’t even delete her pictures.

You just… existed.

Like some half-version of yourself, wandering through empty rooms where her laughter used to live.

At first, she stayed away.

Maybe she thought you wouldn’t forgive her.

Maybe she thought you finally meant it this time.

But late one night, when the rain was coming down so hard it felt like the sky itself was falling apart, she showed up.

You heard the knock first — soft, hesitant.

You ignored it.

Then her voice — broken and hoarse — “Please… it’s me.”

You stayed sitting on the floor, staring at the dark TV screen, feeling the ache in your chest pulse like a second heartbeat.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” she said through the door. “But I can’t — I can’t do this without you.”

You closed your eyes.

You should have told her to leave.

You should have stayed strong.

But when you opened the door, and saw her standing there — drenched in rain, eyes red and swollen — you realized something horrifying:

You still loved her more than you loved yourself.

You stepped aside without a word.

She walked in like she had never left, like there wasn’t a canyon of pain yawning open between you.

You smelled the rain on her skin, the cold in her clothes, but underneath it — the familiar scent you used to bury your face in.

She stood there, shaking, like she was waiting for you to say something. Anything.

Instead, you just pulled her into you.

Her arms wrapped tight around your waist like she thought if she let go, she’d vanish.

And you let her.

You let her cling to you like you were still the one she wanted.

You buried your face in her hair and pretended she wasn’t already a thousand miles away.

Neither of you said a word.

Because saying it out loud would make it real.

You stayed like that for a long time — just breathing, just surviving.

And when she leaned up to kiss you, soft and trembling, you let her.

Even though the kiss didn’t feel like love anymore.

It felt like grief.

It felt like goodbye disguised as “I miss you.”

And you knew, deep down, that by letting her back in, you weren’t healing anything.

You were just postponing the end but you know you should have stayed gone, and she just kept proving it.

You should have locked the door behind you, thrown away the key, ripped her from your heart the way she ripped you apart.

But you didn’t.

You came back.

Aeri cried when she saw you again — fell into your arms like the pieces of her didn’t fit anywhere else.

You let her. You held her.

Because even shattered, she still felt like home.

And you were too tired to build a new one without her.

For a while, it was almost easy to pretend.

She kissed you like nothing had changed. She whispered “I love you” like it still meant something.

She smiled that soft, sleepy smile after you kissed her forehead goodnight.

But you knew.

You knew.

The love she gave you now — it wasn’t pure. It wasn’t whole. It was guilt, stitched together to look like affection.

Her kisses tasted like apologies she’d never say aloud.

Her touch felt desperate, not devoted.

Late at night, when she thought you were asleep, you caught her staring at the ceiling — hollow-eyed, lost in a place you couldn’t reach anymore.

Sometimes she whispered “I’m sorry” into the darkness, thinking you couldn’t hear.

You heard every word.

You never stopped loving her.

That was the cruelest part.

You loved her enough to stay.

Even when you knew her heart was somewhere you could never follow.

Even when every kiss felt like a lie you willingly swallowed.

And every day, you woke up next to her, carrying the unbearable weight of knowing:

You didn’t leave her.

But she had already left you a long time ago.

The acceptance hurt, it hurt you so much to know and live with the fact that she is staying with someone else in her heart, and yet still claims she needs you. But you know the truth.

The truth just pushed deeper and deeper into your brain, especially when you’d woken up that one night.

The apartment was cold, but neither of you moved to turn on the heat.

Aeri curled into your side like muscle memory — like all the nights before had never happened, like her body still remembered how to fit against yours even if her heart didn’t.

You stared up at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the paint, willing yourself not to feel her.

But every breath she took pressed against your ribs, every soft shift of her body against yours reopened wounds you hadn’t even had time to close.

You wanted to hate her.

God, you wanted to hate her.

But all you could do was pull her closer.

Because loving her had never been a choice — it was a reflex. A need. Like breathing. Like bleeding.

Her hand found yours in the dark.

Fingers lacing through yours so softly it broke you more than any fight could have.

You squeezed back. You didn’t know why. Maybe just to feel something solid. Maybe just because you were scared if you let go now, you’d never get another chance to hold her again.

You turned your head, just enough to see her.

Her face was so peaceful in the dark, her breathing even — like she could finally sleep because you were there.

It killed you.

Because you knew she didn’t come back out of love.

She came back because she was scared.

Because she hated the silence more than she hated losing you.

And still… you stayed.

You pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, so gentle, so careful, like if you kissed her too hard, she might break apart.

“I love you,” you whispered into her hair, so quietly you weren’t sure if you meant for her to hear it.

She didn’t move.

You stayed awake all night, feeling her heartbeat against yours — counting every beat like a countdown to the day she’d leave you for real.

And even then, even knowing everything, you promised yourself you’d hold on as long as she let you.

Because sometimes love isn’t brave.

Sometimes love is pathetic.

Sometimes it’s just knowing you’re not enough — and staying anyway.

You were practically separated, but still acted as though you were together. You knew she was with another, but why hadn’t you left?

You and Aeri never officially broke up.

That’s the worst part.

After you caught her with someone else, you thought she’d leave. That she’d walk away, confess, do something. But instead, she stayed. She acted like nothing happened — like if she smiled enough, if she kissed you enough, she could erase what you saw.

And you… you let her.

You lay beside her at night, feeling the weight of her body next to yours, but never her heart. You listened to her soft breathing and wondered whose name was carved into her dreams. When she kissed you, you kissed back, pretending not to taste the regret on her lips.

You became a stranger in your own relationship — a ghost haunting memories that used to mean something.

The hardest thing wasn’t losing her.

It was knowing she was already gone.

And you were just too scared to admit it.

But deep down, you knew.

You had known for a while now.

She didn’t love you anymore.

Maybe she missed the idea of you — the comfort, the history, the version of herself she used to be when she was with you.

But she didn’t miss you.

Not the way you missed her.

Not in the way that mattered.

You could feel it every time you reached for her and she hesitated just a second too long.

Every time she smiled a little too tightly, kissed you a little too quickly, like she was ticking off boxes on a list of things she owed you.

You loved her enough to notice.

And maybe — just maybe — you loved her enough to let her lie about it, too.

Because the truth was, you didn’t know who you were without her.

You didn’t want to.

So you kept holding her hand, even when it stopped feeling like home.

You kept whispering “I love you,” hoping that if you said it enough, it would start to sound true again — for both of you.

You stayed.

You stayed long after the love was gone, long after the smiles faded, long after the warmth turned cold.

Because sometimes the saddest thing about love isn’t when it ends.

It’s when you both pretend it’s still there, just so you don’t have to feel the emptiness swallowing you whole.

And as you watched her sleep beside you — her body close, but her heart a million miles away — you realized:

She didn’t love you anymore.

She hadn’t for a long time.

And the worst part?

You were the only one still pretending that she did.

[lemotmo]

i am NOT dooming but i just wanted to know your opinion. now that we know T is coming back in episode 14/15, i have a bad feeling about buck being with athena in the police car. T’s most recent (and narratively, most important) link to the show is buck, so it would make sense that his plot in these episodes is related to buck eg like when abby came back for buck’s closure. however, he was on the same roof that the LAFD helicopter took off from… the LAPD helicopter seems to be chasing the LAFD one… buck and athena arriving at the same building and buck out of uniform… the only other time (i think) that buck travelled with athena is when doug kidnapped maddie. i have a bad feeling that something happens to T, eg his helicopter gets stolen or hijacked, and buck is worried about him so attends the scene with athena. i hope i’m wrong obviously and it’s something else, but in my head… T on the roof + helicopter chase + buck going with athena to the scene + that bts clip of buck crying ?? = too big of a coincidence :/

Oh oh oh Nonny! Slow down! You are making a loooot of assumptions and connections that might not have anything to do with each other.

First: Are we absolutely sure that he will be back in 14 or 15? The man made one vague post, the Tommies assumed it was for 911 and we just follow their lead? I don't know. Granted, since there seem to be helicopters he might be back, but let's not jump to conclusions yet.

Second: The Buck and Athena stuff might be interesting, I agree. But why would it have anything to do with T? If this episode is helicopter heavy, he might be there, but that doesn't mean that he will play some kind of vital part in the story. The man is a plot device character. They are only going to use him when absolutely necessary.

I think there might be some kind of hostage situation and there will be some helicopters circling the building. That's it. That could be the reason why he might be back: to show us someone we know in the helicopter.

Also, if he is there, I fully expect him to have some part in the Buddie plot, because he still is that plot device character designed to bring Buck and Eddie even closer together. That's his whole reason of existing.

Further more, they are not going to waste an nde on T, because no one from the audience would be emotionally invested. Most people have already forgotten about him. He is not that important and the stakes wouldn't be all that high. Let's face it, T possibly dying won't have a big emotional impact, so they won't do that.

That's why I think Eddie will be involved in all of this somehow. To bring Buddie even closer together. It's about time that one of them gets hurt again. 🤣

Third: For some reason everyone and their mother assumes that that one clip is Buck crying, just because someone on Twitter said so. I've listened to that clip many times now and I'm not convinced. I don't think it's Buck at all. it sounds like a higher female voice. I think it might be Hen and I think she's coughing, not crying.

Could be wrong though, but keep in mind that this might not be Buck at all.

Fourth: Please Nonny, it's important to take a step back and see T for what he is. Him and Buck are not getting back together. The show has been working hard to make Buddie happen and to get the GA involved. It's worked. A lot of people in the GA have started seeing the Buddie of it all. There is a reason for that.

Believe your eyes. Believe what the show is telling us. Forget about everyone's opinion and speculation for a moment and just watch season 7 again, watch 8a again and mostly, watch the first two episodes of 8b again. The show has been telling a story of two friends who have slowly, but surely given their heart to the other. It's all right there for us to pick up on. It's no longer subtext, it's text.

The first two episodes of 8b show us exactly where this story is going. So who cares about exes coming back or not? This is a love story. That's what they are writing and what they are showing us: a love story between two best friends who will soon realise they are in love. So whichever ex comes back? They're only there to propel the Buddie narrative, like they have consistently been showing us since season 7.

So sit back, relax and let the writers tell you this story the way they want to tell it, exes and all.

[insidemyrottenbrain]

Years later - TSH

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Word count: 1666

TW: religious imagery

Out of guilt and dread you end up leaving Vermont and building a new life. Just as you thought you escaped your past, you once again find yourself in its grasp.

The past haunts me. It has been years—so many I cannot begin to count, and if I’m being completely honest, I was not counting to begin with. Everything I have done was to escape that wretched part of my life in which my naivety and perhaps self-consuming passion, managed to control me. I wanted—want—to forget it all. 

The first time I stepped foot into what would soon come to be one of the few select places in my nightmares was very awe-inducing. The university was large, larger than I’d imagined. The stone walls had arched indents that made it look as if it belonged in one of the novels I read as a teenager and that my family wholeheartedly despised. The hallways were a contorted maze of watchful ancient statues following every movement with their eyes, priceless antiques donated by rich parents and students with more money in their pockets than I could ever dream of having. A multitude of departments found their home in that twisted place, such as theater, arts, modern literature, architecture, history, music, philosophy, and more. I believe you can imagine my excitement when faced with the exact kind of university I dreamed of studying at, especially when I had little to no hope of ever getting anywhere close to it, much less belonging.

One thing, as you know, led to another, and I ended up as one of the infamous Greek pupils. I’m quite sure everyone thought we were some kind of cult, which, if you think about it, isn’t entirely wrong.

The first few years were everything I had ever hoped for. I felt that I had found my place and, most certainly, my kind. We used to do everything together. Being with them was the only time I truly felt alive. It doesn’t matter whether we went to the comforting country house engulfed in trees safely from the outside world, had delicious dinners debating the most obscure topics, or simply studied in the library, sleep-deprived and on immense amounts of caffeine, I always felt as if I was doing something more than just existing.

Where did it all go wrong? I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I do not want to categorize Richard’s arrival as the initiator factor, for it was not his fault. Nor is it correct to say that the Bacchanal was the beginning of it all. It wouldn’t be Henry’s doing either, at least not the start of it. I have speculated on this over the years, and I have come to only one conclusion that seems right. My theory as to what the answer is and my attempt to pinpoint the exact place on the timeline are not as precise as I hoped they would be. It was not a single event that gave birth to our ruin, but rather multiple little moments, that are rather large in the big scheme. I also like to believe that Julian had as much of a role in all of this as the rest of us. Perhaps, even a considerably more sizeable one.

Everything that happened—I wish to leave behind. However, I recently came to realise, that, to my misery, it incorporated and formed my very being. My views, my ideas, my tastes, and my activities are all, to a certain extent, if not fully influenced and ruled over by it. I am my past.

My great, futile attempts to escape the life I once had, led me to London, a perfect setting for someone who wished to hide. A bustling place, where I had the chance to not be me, but a mere shadow lurking throughout the crowded streets, observing every passerby, while trying to guess their life stories, deepest desires, and strongest fears. I was no one, and I adored it. However, my presence became known among museum guides and librarians for its consistency. I have also earned a reputation among university students for being one of the few odd professors. This is probably due to the fact that I am very selective with my pupils, and I teach a couple that are quite brilliant in my office. I often have open discussions with them, for I consider it helps them engage with the topic better and understand the meaning and philosophy behind it in such a way that encourages them to analyze, observe, and critique. One such day, we were talking about the loss of self, Plato’s four divine madnesses:

‘Death is the mother of beauty,’ said Felix, one of my students.

I nodded in approval as I propped myself up on the desk.

‘And what is beauty?’ 

‘Terror,’ a voice answered from my office’s door.

My life up until this moment, along with all my darkest memories and the series of events that led me to where I am today, flash before my eyes, and it feels as if the universe has stopped specifically to play along with his sadistic trick. My jaw clenches involuntarily, my eyes threaten to betray my emotions, and I have to remind myself I’m not the same brainless kid chasing empty promises and impossible dreams, fully convinced that every existing land, no matter how vast it may be, is my playground and that fate will bend according to my petulant will. I have to get out of my head, the silence is stretching. My students, probably confused, are expecting some kind of sign from my disordered self. He is waiting for a reaction. The past has finally caught up to me. After all my futile attempts, it still managed to intrude on my present’s doorway. 

I take a deep breath. I look at my students, curiosity mixed with confusion clear in their expressions. I don’t need to look at him to know who he is.

‘I apologize,’ I start hoping that they cannot hear the tremble in my voice as accentuated as I seem to do, ‘class is dismissed.’

I need not say more before my students start gathering their belongings in complete silence so as to not further disturb the room completely filled with palpable animosity and perhaps something more vivid, cursed to lurk in the depths of our minds. I reach blindly toward my pack of cigarettes, lying somewhere on my desk between books and coffee-stained papers. Lucky Strikes, yet another sign of his hold on me. I light my cigarette, breathing in the curls of smoke spiraling down my throat. The sound of his leather shoes clicking against the wooden floorboards reverberates through my beating heart. I am well aware that even now, after years of attempting to escape from the rosary He entangled around my neck, I am still His most loyal devotee, respecting vigilantly every silent command. Deep and numbing smoke inside my lungs, like a relaxant, washes me with warm Indian summer waves of calmness.

He is fixating me with his cold blue eyes, watching for any sign of defiance. Over the years I’ve spent in his presence, I’ve learned to recognize his transitive facial expressions, his secretive ways, and his small habits, whether it is the way he holds a page between his fingers before turning it or his tendency to dive into long monologues about whatever interests him at that moment. It is a distinct ability that has grown its roots along my blood vessels, twisted and intertwined beyond differentiation. Understanding each other used to be our way of showing our affection. It is something so sacred that I cannot bring myself to weaponize against him and betray the bond we once had. You’d think that after so much time I’d be able to break free from the shackles His divinity holds me in and convert to a different faith. But He is nestled so deeply in me, that I cannot help but like the burns and the imprints upon my skin.

Henry Marchbanks Winter looks the same. But he now has a new pair of glasses and slight crow’s feet, along with faint smile lines framing his lips. He’s wearing one of his dark English suits, which have always fit him incredibly well. And if the wrinkles weren’t enough, the few grey hairs peeking from underneath the familiar dark colour of his hair are a brutal reminder of how much of him I missed. A cruel admonitum of the years that have passed and of all the times I wasn’t next to him, not by chance but by choice. It takes all I have in me to not fall to my knees, confess my sin, and beg for forgiveness. As if all the years I’ve been away from him turned into mere days I find myself falling back to my old habits and once again bowing down to his silent command.

Amor dominus terribilis est.

The cigarette burns, forgotten between my fingers, as I get wasted on his scent, for once, unbothered by the consequences.

‘I’ve finally found you, dilectus.’ Beloved.

‘I suppose you have.’ I cannot help but stare at him, hypnotized by the storm in his eyes.

‘I have been searching for you since the day you left.’ He reaches a gentle, steady hand to brush my cheek ‘London of all places-’

As much as I wish to let him hold me again I find myself interrupting him. ‘You have no business here.’ I walk to the open window and take my second drag from the almost fully burned cigarette.

He sighs, frustration slipping through the cracks of his perfection.

‘Like it or not,’ he emanates divine turmoil as he emphasizes every word  ‘you are my business.’

‘After so long we can’t be anything but strangers.’

‘You are wrong.’ He states immediately as I finish the sentence. ‘You cannot act as if you have forgotten everything we’ve been through.’ His hand once again finds its way to my face and caresses it with smooth, slow motions. This time I let him. ‘One more chance is all I ask for.’ He whispered.

‘One more chance.’ I agree, defeated.

[write-like-you-mean-it]

Sinfully Planned

NanamixReader

Warning: Smut, Vouyerism, hairpulling, eating out woman, oral, cumming inside, more dominate Nanami, cheating too

I hope you all like this one! I know I've been gone for awhile. I'd hope to come back soon but I can't promise anything. Hope you have a good day and happy reading!

I almost never forget anything. I never lose my car keys or my purse. Except for one time. It so happened that I left my keys at Nanami’s apartment. I’d gotten all the way to mine before I even realized my mistake. A simple text was sent, and I made my way back. I told him to keep the door open for me so I can slip in and out. I thought I knew where I had left them. It was on the table by the couch. The couch where I slept last night due to a fight with my boyfriend. I was expecting them to be there. 

I, however, did not expect to hear something from the bedroom: a call of my name. It was small and almost non-existent. I needed to know why he’d called me though. If it was a fluke, I’d just leave. 

A quick peek through the door frame was enough to quench my thirst for knowledge of what was happening inside. I could feel my heart jump to my throat while watching. My eyes were transfixed on Nanami’s hand holding an already dripping dick. He thrusted his hand up and down to accentuate each muscle in his arm. The other gripping the covers as if trying to get a hold on this pleasure. 

The intimate moment felt even more hot because of how vile it was to keep watching. Although, I couldn’t take a moment away from the beauty in front of me. Nanami’s body was sculpted from years of putting in extra work into his craft. It was sinful, yet beautiful. His abs flexed with the pulse of his hand. Nanami kept a close rhythm as if he was already chasing this high. Sweat littered his forehead while he was biting his lip. Sinful grunts escaped beyond his control. It was the original reason I came to his door. 

I could feel myself holding my own breath as if I did anything would cause this beauty to stop, and the show would end. I should stop watching. I should go back and  pretend I didn’t see anything. All of these “shoulds” may even stop me from doing anything. My mind raced before deciding to take a single step back. One step and I’d be free to pretend my crush never existed. That was until the creek from the floorboards gave away my position. 

I cursed the wooden floorboards we had installed years ago. Maybe he didn’t hear. Maybe I can talk my way out of it. All the maybes in the world wouldn’t prepare me for Nanami standing at the door frame in only a towel. “What are you doing?”

 “Nothing,” I stumbled out while trying to walk away. “I was coming to tell you about where we’d be having dinner tonight.” I was making eye contact but slipped to the towel that barely held up against his waist. It was a simple mistake but it made me feel vulnerable. His gaze was glaring and almost predatory. 

“Do you really think I’d buy that excuse?” Nanami says while stretching to drape an arm on the frame. Sweat still gleaned from his brow and chest. His hair was mildly wet with the same sweat. 

I hadn’t realized how much he towered over me. “No,” I muttered. His build was glorious. A god who found his way on earth. His eyes full of a mystery that he refused to tell anyone else. I couldn’t tell who leaned in first. However, our lips met in a passionate frenzy. It was an angry frenzy of passion. 

Nanami lips felt like sweet syrup. They were a bit chapped but easily fixed with some shared saliva. He pressed my body against his so I could feel every bit of him. The towel slipped so easily off. Same with my shirt. His lust mirrored my own as we broke for a second of time. Nanami’s hand reached around and popped off my bra before dragging me to bed. 

“Fuck,” I mutter as the bed squeaked under my weight. He cut off my curse with another chaste kiss. Each one left me breathless. Nanami’s size was massive over me. I meant that in both possible ways. 

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do to you,” he grunts while tugging at my pants. A quick pull, and they fall off with the rest of my clothes that are all lost to the void. His exclamation made my legs cross in excitement for them to be caught by his thigh. “Don’t close them already. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Nanami’s voice felt commanding yet kind. He cared but steadied himself. A finger ran down my pussy. While gathering the juice, he put it to his lips like a drink. He was tasting before his meal. “Already so wet for me, sweetheart?” 

A blush crossed my face and before I could respond, Nanami dipped his head to lick my clit. A simple swipe but enough to create friction all over. He found his peace making me squirm and moan for him. My hands dug into the perfectly placed hair on his head as I pulled him closer. I wanted every bit of myself to be covering his face. 

It took a bit but he finally found what would drive me over the wall soon enough. His tongue lapped up like a starved man. He was worshiping me. He worshiped each second of eating me out. 

I made sure to praise his efforts as he slowly built me up. Finally, I felt the rubber band snap. Nanami took this joy to watch his handwork. He used his thumb to keep my orgasm rolling through my body. His eyes desperately carve his name into my skin. Once I gain composure, I look up to see he is pumping his cock once again. 

“Was that good sweetheart?” he asks. 

I nod my head still trying to catch my breath. My chest was rising and falling at the same rate as he was jerking himself off. My eyes catch a glimpse of my keys. They were sitting on the nightstand. 

“Did you plan this?” I was confused. Nanami took this to turn me around with my ass in the air. I didn’t get an answer to my question, only his dick pushed against my entrance as if asking if he could. How could I deny a simple request? “Who cares. I want you to fuck me.”

“How can I not oblige?” he grunts before pushing into me. Nanami fills me to the brim. “Fuck,” he grunts while bottoming out. My head buries into the mattress. Possessiveness took over his body. He grips my hair and pulls it back. It was an aggressive but commanding tug. 

“Why do you think I left my room door open too?” he growled while forcing him to look at me. His eyes full of lust as he used me as a counterbalance for his thrusts. Our lips crashed aggressively. For as calculated as he seemed to pace himself, his lips betray him. They were moist and hurried to capture any chaste kiss given. My body leaned deeply into his while feeling a beautiful pain. His hand tugged harder into my hair while the other was leaving indents in my skin. 

His pace was demanding. Filling me up with each thrust. It demanded attention beyond what I was used to giving. It caused me to groan against Nanami’s lips. “Fuck Nanami.” My voice felt small.  He took this as a challenge to make me groan louder. His pace slowed enough to get the burn but not enough to feel the high. I repeated my praise to him.

“You’ll have to be louder than that.” His hand dug into my hair where I let out a cry of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Nanami,” I groaned louder. A resounding smack reverberated around the room. I repeated the curse only to be rewarded with another slap on my ass; however, he let go of my hair. My face fell into the mattress as if it had always been its resting place. One more praise of his name which felt more like I scream made his pace finally speed up. His unaccompanied hand went in between my legs to find my clit. His coarse fingers paced the rhythm. The pace was all too much. It was building to the end. I, also, could feel Nanami’s pace suffer as he was getting closer to his edge. 

“Where?” he grunted.

“Huh?” I asked. To be honest, I wasn’t thinking straight. My eyes were closed while feeling the pace. 

“Where do you want me to paint you?” His voice was becoming more off kilter as if he was trying to race his own high. I was so close. Almost too close. My hands gripped the bedsheets like Nanami did only minutes before. I was focusing on my own high to talk. Drool fell from my mouth as I tried to say words. Finally, I felt the all consuming nature of my orgasm again. Nanami took this to mean inside. His orgasm was hot as he pumped a few loads into me. He groaned my name before finally collapsing to the side. 

The room was filled with the sound of our breath catching up with us. The bedsheets were soiled and in desperate need of a wash. I catch a glimpse of the keys once more. 

“So you did plan this?”

“I wouldn’t say planned. More like it happened.”

Suddenly, a phone’s ringer went off. I knew it was mine, and I knew how deep shit I was in. It was the only person who would put such an obnoxious ringtone on my phone: my boyfriend, Gojo.

[keyboardsmashess]

The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Thirteen: The Theories, or Overwhelmed by the Power of Quarterflash

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: language, eventual smut, fluff, angst, canon-typical violence MINORS DNI. A/N: The first half of this chapter is dedicated fondly to the crackfics of my youth. That's right, kids - I've been reading fics since *Quizilla* days. Now go play and let your grandma rest. I've made a lil playlist to accompany this chapter (which some of you might have already seen posted as bonus content), in case you want to listen along and imagine the Avengers are the ones singing. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Cleo and the Avengers try some team bonding, but something unexpected happens.

Chapter Directory

I don’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed when I realize Tony has rented the entire place out for our forced evening of team-building. Though, I suppose the disappointed part comes from the Cleo of a few short weeks ago who wouldn’t have dreamed of worrying about being the subject of paparazzi. That Cleo had a habit of allowing her secret desire for attention to manifest at karaoke, and would be sorely disappointed to sing for a crowd this small. This Cleo (by which I mean me) has been made all too aware why that can’t happen, so I decide to buck up and make the most of the night. 

I find a seat next to Nat, and Sam falls in on my other side. Barnes sits as far away from me as possible, and I mentally kick myself for forgetting his ability to be kind one moment and act like I don’t exist the next. Fool me once…

Tony is clearly the ringmaster of this circus, already at the front making a lineup for the evening. We don’t even get the common courtesy of choosing our own songs. He finishes the list with a satisfied smirk, hands it over to the tech guy (who I’m certain has signed all manner of NDAs), and takes the stage first, to nobody’s surprise.

“Hello, New York!” he shouts at us, making me and a few others wince. “Are you ready to rock?” Nobody answers him. “I said, are you ready to ROCK?”

“Quit yapping and get on with it, Stark!” I shout back, hoping to put everyone out of their misery. I earn a chuckle from Sam and Natasha, and a grateful grin from Steve.

“You guys are no fun,” he mumbles, and the first few notes of ACDC’s Shoot to Thrill start playing through the speakers.

I turn to Natasha. “He should know a song like this won’t showcase his vocal range.”

She looks at me like I’ve just spoken in tongues. “Who are you right now?” I laugh as Tony starts scream-singing the lyrics in the background. She glances around and grabs my hand. “Come on.”

I allow myself to be led to the unmanned bar in the corner. “Nat, there’s no bartender - Tony said he isn’t providing alcohol.”

She grins. “As it turns out, I didn’t actually hear him say that. I did, however, hear him tell the owner to put ‘everything’ on his tab.” She walks behind the bar and starts grabbing bottles and glasses. “As far as I’m concerned, this is part of ‘everything.’”

I gratefully accept the drink she hands over and take a long sip. “You’re a beautiful woman, Natasha Romanov. No matter who says otherwise.”

She quirks an eyebrow at me. “Nobody would dare say otherwise and you know it.”

I grin and help her bring the drinks back over to the table, passing them out to everyone. Tony’s eyes are closed, so powerful is his commitment to the music, so he doesn’t notice a thing.

I hand one to Steve and Barnes, raising my voice to be heard over the screeching. “Nat told me you two beefcakes can’t get drunk, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try.” I swear the ghost of a smile flits across Barnes face, but I just wink at Steve and return to my seat.

Tony finishes the song with several dramatic air-guitar movements, electing to leap off the stage instead of simply walking down the three steps. He freezes when he gets to the table. “Come on! I said no alcohol.” He sighs and holds out a begrudging hand. “Where’s mine?”

Nat hands him a glass and he points to Steve. “You’re up next, Capsicle.”

Steve stands and grimly makes his way to the stage, looking for all the world like he’s heading into battle. He stands stoically, waiting for the music to start, and when Journey starts to play he rolls his eyes. Nat and Clint turn to Tony and boo loudly.

Steve does his best with ‘Don’t Stop Believing,’ but it’s clear his skills are more aligned with combat than performance. Still, I pat him on the shoulder when he returns to the table. “That was very sweet, Stevie.” He shoots me a grateful look and sits down to nurse his drink, cheeks pink.

Tony sighs. “Romanov was supposed to be next, but she made it clear that I would need to sleep with one eye open if I made her sing again, and my beauty rest is too important. Katniss, get in there.”

Clint gives an entertaining, if slightly pitchy, performance of ‘Secret Agent Man,’ followed by a surprisingly lovely and very charismatic rendition of ‘Come Fly With Me’ from Sam that has me dragging Steve to his feet to spin me around the tiny dance floor. Barnes shoots us a pointed glare, but I ignore him - it isn’t my fault he’s allergic to joy. 

Tony and Bruce do a duet of ‘I Got You Babe,’ and I can practically feel the discomfort radiating from Bruce in waves, but he powers through nonetheless. I wonder if the duet was the result of Tony trying to help his friend’s awkwardness, or just his innate desire to be the center of attention. 

Both. Probably both. 

 Barnes absolutely refuses to take the stage for ‘Mr. Roboto,’ so we all make conversation while the backing track plays itself out, and I try to teach Steve how to do the robot. We whoop and cheer for everyone, regardless of skill or (in Barnes’ case) actually performing at all.

Finally, it’s my turn to take the stage. Tony clearly had fun trying to be on-theme with his song choices, and I roll my eyes as ‘Harden My Heart’ starts to play. Fortunately, I’d gone through a bit of an 80’s rock kick as a teen, so I know this song well.

I’ve frequented enough karaoke bars to know that a sincere version of a song this dramatic never plays well (I learned that lesson the hard way with ‘Run Joey Run’), so I decide to go for entertainment value, my goal to simply captivate my audience.

I make my performance as campy as possible - exaggerating my movements, leaning hard into the drama of the verses, and then belting each chorus with everything I have. I’m a solid singer, having done choir all through my time away at school, but I’m an even better performer and I use that to keep the crowd’s attention. At least, I hope I keep their attention - I can’t see anyone’s faces through the glare of the lights. 

I finish strong, breathing heavily, and I’m startled by a whistle from Barnes as the music and lights fade. He pales as he realizes what he’s done and clamps his mouth shut, clenching his jaw, but that’s soon forgotten when we take in the expressions on the rest of the group’s faces.

They sit completely still, eyes glassy but wholly focused on me as I stand awkwardly on the stage. I meet Barnes’ eyes, mirroring his concerned expression with my own, and watch as he gives Steve a gentle shove. Nothing happens. He claps his hands beside Steve’s ear, shouts his name, and still nothing happens.

I come off the stage tentatively. “I don’t know if this is some kind of hazing thing where you try to freak out the new kid, but if it is, you can stop anytime.”

The second I say the word ‘stop,’ everyone seems to regain motion simultaneously. Steve wipes a hand down his face, sharing a wide-eyed look with Tony. Clint and Sam look utterly confused, and Banner is frowning at Barnes apologetically. Nat is the only one who looks at me, and she downs the rest of her drink without breaking eye contact.

Steve finally ends the silence, snapping into Captain mode. “We better get back to the Tower - we have a lot to discuss.”

I feel everyone’s eyes turn to me then, and I give a nervous little laugh. “Any chance you were all just overwhelmed by the power of Quarterflash?”

The silence is answer enough.

******

I find myself filing into the debriefing room for the second occasion since arriving at the Tower, this time opting to sit between Nat and Clint. Barnes situates himself directly across from me yet again, much to my dismay. 

Once everyone is seated, I’m quick to speak before Steve has a chance to. “I just want to start by saying I’m sorry - I don’t know what happened, but I know I must have done something to everyone, and I swear I didn’t mean to.”

Steve gives Tony a glare, surprising me. “You have no reason to apologize, Cleo. This one is on Stark.”

Tony puts a hand to his chest. “Me? What did I do?”

Steve’s glare hardens. “I told you it was a mistake not to talk to her as soon as you suspected something, but no - you had to run your tests. This isn’t a game, Stark.”

“Listen, Captain Holier-Than-Thou, I made a calculated risk to get information. Just because you don’t have the balls -” I clear my throat pointedly. “Sorry - the ovaries to take a risk every once in a while, doesn’t mean I have to stop doing what I do best.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Which is what, manipulating people?”

Tony scoffs, but Bruce speaks up. “Listen, Steve, I know it was startling, but tonight went exactly as we hoped it would. Everyone was perfectly safe, and we got the information we needed.”

Sam pipes in. “It still would’ve been cool to have a heads up.” Clint nods in agreement.

I wave my hands and they all turn to me. “Hey. Hi. It’s me, your old pal Cleo. Can someone please tell me what the hell we’re talking about here? I seem to be the last to know, despite the fact that you’re discussing me.”

Steve softens as he faces me again. “After you told us about Atlantis and your dad’s theory, Bucky remembered something he’d heard HYDRA talking about a long time ago.” I whip my gaze to Barnes, who stares intently at the wood grain of the table. “He said they talked about this thing - this tool - that would give them the ability to manipulate peoples’ minds. They wanted to find it to use… Well, they discovered another solution to their problem, I’ll say, and Bucky never heard about it again.”

I don’t take my eyes off Barnes while I’m listening, and when he finally looks up to meet my gaze, his face looks pained.

I look back at Steve. “Let me guess, I’m the tool?” Stark snorts a laugh, but my icy glare strikes him silent.

Bruce saves him from speaking. “The short answer is yes.” I look at him, waiting. “The long answer is that we think they were searching for a crystal, like your father theorized, and while they weren’t technically wrong,” he nods to the crystal in my chest, “it was more complicated than that. They were looking for a weapon, but - ”

I cut him off with a heavy sigh. “But they should have been looking for a book, so they could become the weapon.” Bruce’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What, did you think I was going to let you and Stark have all the fun? I’ve been chasing some leads, too - especially when nobody seemed interested in the Atlantis angle.”

Bruce looks guilty, but Tony’s face is firm. “We were going to talk to you when we had something worth telling.”

My eyes are sharp when I turn to him. “Somehow, I think there was plenty worth telling before you took me on a fucking test run tonight.”

Tony smirks, and I want to slap it off his face. “If I’m the pot, you’re the kettle - you clearly have plenty of your own information to share.”

“Alright, then. You want to share? Let’s share,” I say through gritted teeth.

Tony crosses his arms. “Ladies first.”

Oh, I got under his skin when I called him out. We may have gotten along swimmingly up until now, but Tony has a habit of doing whatever he wants regardless of anyone else, and I don’t want to let him get away with it where I’m concerned. I keep my gaze hard. “Age before beauty.”

He rolls his eyes, but relents. “Fine.” He gestures to Bruce. “We had a theory that, under the right conditions, your abilities could extend to something bordering on mind control. And,” he smirks, “as per usual, we were right.”

“Do you know what the conditions are?” 

“Based on what we’ve seen so far, you need to have a goal in mind and something - a story or a song - to channel it.”

I nod, thinking back. “That makes sense. I wanted you all to listen to me when I talked about my dad’s research, and tonight I just wanted to be entertaining - to keep your attention.”

Tony’s gaze softens marginally. “Your turn, Lite Brite.”

“Okay. My friend Meg works for the campus library, and I had her visit Rare Books to talk to the librarian there - Inez. She keeps meticulous records, but she had nothing about a book dealing with Atlantis checked out through my account on the night this all started. The books there are crazy valuable, and a lot of them are on loan from other places, so there’s no way anything could just slip through the cracks like that.” 

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, probably messing up my careful waves but not caring a bit. “I got in touch with some people I know who are deep in the Atlantis community, just to ask a few questions. I kept things pretty general - asking about my dad’s crystal idea, the energy source, that sort of thing. It seems like there’s been some… chatter in the years following my dad’s disappearance, which explains why I hadn’t heard anything about it from him.”

I survey the faces at the table, making sure to keep my mind void of intentions, and to my relief they seem interested in a normal way, with none of the blank attention I saw earlier. 

“The running idea is that the energy source was more of a living force within the people of Atlantis, and that when the flood started coming, they found a way to extract and preserve it somehow. This is fairly common knowledge - some people call it The Heart of Atlantis - but the theories have gotten more… specific than when I was last involved. A few people mentioned hearing that it may have been channeled into an ancient book written in Atlantean, but that the book had long since disappeared. Apparently some important players have been searching for that book for a long time.” I look meaningfully at Barnes. “A long time. And I’m willing to bet they knew enough about what it contained to make some… preparations.”

Barnes meets my eyes with intensity, understanding immediately. “You think they made me impervious to the energy’s power.” A statement, not a question.

Yet again, I find myself answering him anyway. “I do. I think HYDRA had access to plenty of weird shit, and they would have wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be vulnerable on the off chance they weren’t the ones who found the Heart. I’ve turned up a lot of speculation that they had some kind of mysterious countermeasure to the energy source, and I’m all but certain that it’s you.”

He nods, expression hundreds of miles away. “That would explain why the screaming has never affected me.”

“And,” I add, thinking about everything I’ve learned tonight, “why the mind-control thing doesn’t work on you.”

Barnes considers this for a moment, then his eyes sharpen as he seems to realize something. “If it wasn't mind manipulation, then…” he whispers, shaking his head as if to erase a thought. He seems to come back to the present and looks pointedly at me. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner?”

I lean back, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t tell anyone, Grumpy - I wasn’t singling you out. I just wanted to organize my thoughts about everything before I brought it to the team.”

He glares. “You went looking into my past, my history - things that are none of your business. Who knows what other information you could have come across? I don’t care about anyone else; you should have told me.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “There was plenty you didn’t tell me either - it would’ve been nice to know I was capable of mind-control, but you ran to Stark and Banner instead.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not the same, and if you don’t realize that, you aren’t as smart as you think you are.”

I keep my face carefully void of any expression, ignoring the sick swirling in the pit of my stomach at his words. “You can be a real dick sometimes, you know that, Barnes?”

Bruce sees the glint in Barnes’ eyes and tries to diffuse the situation. “Bucky, I don’t think Cleo meant any harm by it - she’s just trying to learn more about what she’s dealing with here.”

Barnes throws his hands up. “Of course, take her side. Even though you know what she could’ve stirred up going down that road.” Bruce opens his mouth to reply, but Barnes shakes his head, leaning back in his seat. “Forget it. Clearly it doesn’t matter.”

There’s an awkward pause before Clint finally speaks. “So what you were talking about before - you think that’s the book you found?” His voice is a hair too loud to be causal, but it still works to change the subject.

I keep my grateful gaze on him, trying not to get sucked back into the rage vortex that is my every interaction with Barnes. “No, I think that’s the book that found me.” 

He looks puzzled, so I keep going. “I went back through some of my dad’s research, and a few things I’d never been able to make sense of started to come together. If this energy was a living entity, it would be able to choose the person it wants to reveal itself to… to be its host, for lack of a better word.” The crystal pulses in my chest, and I know innately that what I’m saying is true.

Bruce speaks again. “That would explain why there’s no record of the book - it was really just a container, and once you let the energy out, it wasn’t needed anymore. You’re the Heart of Atlantis. You were chosen that night in the library.”

I nod, frowning. “I still have no fucking clue why it was me of all people, but I think I was. I am.”

Sam grins and eyes me. “I don’t know, you seem like a pretty good candidate to me. You’re smart, gorgeous, funny - what more could an ancient energy source want?”

I laugh, grateful for the kindness after everything. Barnes scowls deeply, clearly still angry with me. 

After a moment of silence, everyone processing all that’s been said, Steve sighs and gives Tony and I an exasperated look. “Was that so hard, you two? See how much easier it is when we just communicate?”

I loose a sigh, releasing some of the tension from my shoulders, and grin. “Yes Dad, you’re right.”

Tony pats him genially on the shoulder. “Sorry, Cap - it won’t happen again. Well, it probably will, but I’ll be sorry then, too.”

Tony looks to me and grows a fraction more serious, though still maintaining a light tone. “You know what this means, right?” I shake my head. “You’ve got Big League powers, kid. You’re stuck with us.”

My mouth gapes at the implication, and for the first time I allow myself to think that I may have a place on this team - I may actually belong as an Avenger.

Clint hums in thought, drumming his fingers on the table. “Hey, you’re into all that Greek mythology stuff, right?”

I nod with a wry smile. “I’m only dedicating my entire doctoral dissertation to it, so you could say that I’m into it. Why?”

He grins. “I was just thinking about how, the first time we all sat around this table, you asked if you could get a cool superhero name. I’m no expert, but I seem to remember a creature from Greek myths that could control people with their voice.”

My eyebrows shoot up, and I beam widely. “A siren.”

[06sunnybunny06]

Part 2 (Aren't we friends?)

♡♡♡♡

The next morning, when the sun was just rising above the horizon. You went on a treasure hunt. Why Child could control you so easily by playing his weird games. He seems to be quite good and looks like a good guy. It's just that Childe is your friend. That's the whole conversation.

The ancient map of Li Yue differs significantly from the modern one. Many buildings, at the moment, have turned into ruins. There may be a whole story behind a broken column. In fact, you are now watching the ghosts of the past. It would be interesting to move back in time and compare "before" and "after".

Come to think of it, you've never traveled outside of Li Yue. Before that, your home was a small village, hidden from prying eyes. The parents weren't bad, they just tried, as if they were hiding from something. The villagers loved to live the old-fashioned way. Thanks to them, you had a good childhood, but one question haunted you all the time.- "Why live in such a wilderness if there is a big city nearby?". No one tried to answer. You were greeted only with meaningful stares, as if you were asking stupid questions. As someone who grew up in the wilderness, far from crowded places, you wanted to see a different life. In the city, everything was different: the houses were tall, the rhythm of life was faster, even the people were completely different. My parents didn't really approve of the decision to move, but there was nothing they could do.

- Okay, we didn't break up on the best note, but so that we wouldn't even send a single letter all the time? And what is that supposed to mean?! Did they just forget about me?!

While unpleasant thoughts were wandering in my head. There was a crunch a few steps away. You were hiding behind the trees nearby without thinking. No matter how beautiful nature and ancient structures are, this world is still dangerous. Any evil spirits can appear from anywhere.

Two figures appeared in the distance, looking like masked soldiers. If one of them is a little taller than you, then the other is quite huge. They also seem to be armed. The first one has a gun sticking out behind his back, and the second one has a gun...what is it? A huge hammer?! Just don't tell me that these are the fatuis that are not pleasant rumors about.

"How long do we have to stay here?" - you flinched when one of them started grumbling.

- Until the harbingers finish their work in Li Yue. Our task is to look for traitors, if you haven't forgotten.

A heavy sigh followed. - "Our work is hard in itself. You can simply be sent to another country and not be brought up to date for a long time. Some stay because they are simply forgotten! Fatuis are not liked by everyone anyway. What should we do then? Wait for the locals to devour?"

The soldier with the hammer turned his head. "Watch your mouth. If anyone finds out, you will be executed on the spot. Submission to the Queen is the law. It's better not to say too much."

- And yet I feel sorry for these people. They lived as if they didn't exist. Oh, I would also like to settle in a quiet village to meet my old age in peace, but that's all.

The second soldier nodded. - "Yes..."

- Considering who our boss is, we're not going to get it. They say he's a real psycho.

Their voices could be heard for some time, until they completely subsided behind the dense foliage. After waiting for some more time, you got out of your hiding place. Everything seems to be calm. They're gone. It was eerily scary to even move. Who knows what they are capable of?

You've looked around the area again. The map shows the way from point A to point B and nothing superfluous. It seems that you are close to your "treasures". Whatever it is.

As the journey continued, the familiar surroundings attracted attention. You've seen this place before. I'm just remembering when it was. "This can't be happening." - The legs walked faster. A familiar sight opened up on the hill. It was your native village. Is this really the destination? You were already suffocating from the strain. Childe couldn't have known about this place…

When you went downstairs, the familiar house of an elderly woman appeared around the corner. She used to look after you when your parents were away on business. Today she has been dead for a long time. Someone had to occupy an empty house. But there wasn't a soul on the street. The wind walked alone between the houses, leaving a void in its wake. Now you're really scared.

You found yourself near your house. It became so quiet that even the creaking of the stairs underfoot seemed like a thunderclap. When the hand reached for the handle, the door opened quietly. The house is not only empty, but also as if no one has lived here for a long time. Mom would never have allowed such a layer of dust, knowing her cleanliness.

You were trying to find at least some signs of life with your eyes when you noticed a piece of paper lying on the table. It seemed to have been placed in a prominent place on purpose. The piece of paper was quickly in your hands. A message was written in it:

"Hello, my dear. Congratulations to you! You've won our little game! I would like to see your smile, but there were some difficulties, so I couldn't come in person. I'm sorry, and I promise, this is the last time! A gift is waiting for you in your room!

With love, your friend is Childe.

You were in shock. How the hell does he know?! How does he know this place? Where are all the residents, and most importantly, where are your parents?!

The head turned towards the door. A little girl used to grow up behind her. The walls of the room remember a lot of emotions - from loud laughter to bitter tears. There was a small box with a bow on the bed. His hands trembled as he opened it. There was a silver ring inside. It wasn't just a decoration. It belonged to your mother. Fingers gently pulled it out of the box. Something else was born. Tears rolled down your cheeks when you noticed the dried maroon spots. The legs immediately rushed to the exit. Maybe they were running away from something, or it was all a bad dream. In the morning you will wake up in a cold sweat, not thinking about him anymore.

When you ran out of the house, a sharp pain pierced your head. The unconscious body collapsed to the ground. You distinctly heard someone say the word "damn." The tears continued to flow until my mind completely shut down.

You woke up in a dark room. Although there was a lamp on the bedside table, some dark areas were still difficult to see. The pain was sharp in the back of the head. You tried to sit up when a familiar voice rang out. "Are you finally awake?"

Your body is numb. It was Childe. He was waiting for your answer. You could barely squeeze out a couple of sentences in a painful voice. - "Yes. My head hurts terribly."

The guy almost purred when he heard your voice. So you're more than okay. "One of my soldiers underestimated his strength. He hit you on the head, but don't worry. I punished him personally." He sighed, suppressing his anger. Some fool dared to harm you. Tartaglia made it clear that you needed to be caught and disabled, not knocked out with all your might. Fortunately, he is no longer a tenant.

- A soldier? "there are memories behind the transparent veil. How did you come to an empty village, how did you find your mother's ring in the house..."

His right hand rose involuntarily, revealing a silver ornament on his index finger. You've always admired him. The image of the snowflake accurately conveyed the connection with its owner. Your mother, like you, had the vision of a Cryo. There was a midnight jade in the core, which shone with a blue light in the dark. My father gave it to me for their anniversary. This time it was completely clean.

- Why do I have my mother's ring on my finger?

Chade shuddered. He sighed heavily, sitting down next to her on the bed.

- The fact is that... I don't think there's any point in lying to you. Since you're in danger, it's better to find out everything at once.

You looked at him expectantly as he began his story.

"I am the eleventh harbinger of Fatua, and it is my duty to do the Queen's will. She is the ruler of the Snow Kingdom. Each fatui must take an oath of allegiance, entrusting his life to her. If the oath is not fulfilled for one reason or another, the person will die. Those who shirk their duty become traitors and face the same fate. I have nothing against your parents, but they were previously from Fatua, and I think you know how it ended....

You didn't believe his words. More precisely, they didn't reach you. - "No. This is your stupid joke again, isn't it? Are you lying to me as always?" "You didn't even notice yourself when you started crying again. Everything fits together very well. The puzzle is coming together. Their caution was always infuriating. It seemed to you that a free person should be happy and not be afraid of anything. But they were trapped in their fears from the very beginning. The Fatuis were hunting for them. As a result, they are no more. And whose fault is it? "Are they dead? Did you kill them?"

Childe began to shake his head negatively. "I wouldn't dare. You know, I have a family myself..."

You sobbed, burying your face in the blanket. What's going to happen now? How to live with the thought of the death of your family now. You didn't even have time to say goodbye.…

Childe hugged you. His heart hurt more with every tear that fell out of your eyes. If there was an option not to cripple your psyche..

- You know, I helped you with something.

You lifted your head, wiping away the remnants of your tears. - "What are you talking about?"

"You would have suffered the same fate if I hadn't intervened. The authorities wanted to get rid of all the recalcitrants, but you were not in Fatui when they escaped.

You nodded, and the guy smiled with satisfaction. "I have an idea. In order not to attach you to this dangerous organization as another unfortunate soldier. So I decided to marry you.....Ta-da!"

Your eyes widened and stared at him, but Childe continued. "The Queen has approved our marriage. It turns out that you were born in Snezhnaya. This means that it will be right to return you to the embrace of your native land. My family is waiting for my return. They will be glad to meet you."

"Are you saying that our marriage is my salvation?"

The guy nodded. "I personally buried your parents in another place. It seemed to me that it would be better than lying in a mass grave. Your mother's ring will be our bond. It will be difficult to accept their death, but nothing can be done. I'll be there to help you deal with everything."

You were grateful for his help. Although this is not the life you planned, it's still better than serving a dangerous organization.

Your face brightened, and you nodded approvingly. Childe could barely restrain himself from grabbing you and kissing you. He must not spoil this moment. Everything is going too well.

"I'd like to see the graves." I need to say goodbye to them at least like that.

Tartaglia nodded at your wish. -"Of course dear. You need to visit them so they don't worry about you. Then you will definitely be free." - He took you in his arms again. This is the best day of his life, and it will be even better when you get married....

[riddles-n-games]

To Feel, To Want

Pairing: Avery and Jameson Summary: Another rewrite of Ch. 15 from THL but from the earlier scene that takes place in the studio before they head up to the roof. Length: Short Story Type: Rewrite

Tag List: @hathorneheiress, @whatsamongus, @averyiconthequeen, @xoxo-lenah, @charsoamerican, @thecircularlibrary

A/N: Hello! Hope you haven't been waiting too long but here is my newest rewrite. I do hope you enjoy it. It's my last one from my oldest standing drafts which means I'll take a break again so I can focus on my more original written pieces.

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    As if that thought had beckoned him toward me, Jameson came closer. “Let’s call off the bet,” he said softly.

    I whipped my head up to look at him. I searched for a tell on his face, something to let me know what angle he was playing.

    “This is big, Heiress.” If he’d been anyone else, his voice might have sounded gentle—but the Jameson Hawthorne I knew wasn’t gentle. “Big enough that neither of us needs extra motivation now. Neither of us is going to solve this alone.”

There was something undeniable about the way he said the word us, but I resisted the pull of it. “I’m at the center of this.” It would have been so easy to let myself get sucked back in. To let myself feel like we really were a team. “You need me.”

    That was what this was about. The gentle voice. Us.

    “And you don’t need anyone?” Jameson stepped forward. Despite every warning screeching in the back of my brain, when he reached out to touch me, I didn’t pull back.

    The past twelve hours had turned my entire world upside down. I needed… something. It didn’t have to mean anything. There didn’t have to be feelings involved. “Fine,” I said, my voice rough in my throat. “Let’s call off the bet.”

    I expected him to kiss me then—to take advantage of my moment of weakness, to push me back against the wall and wait for my head to angle up toward his, wait for a yes. He looked like he wanted to. I wanted it. 

    We were at a standstill and for once in my life, I didn’t know whose turn it was. His move or mine? Is this what it felt like when you were facing a wall, knowing there’s a way around it and the door is next to you but you chose to stare at the wall instead? 

    I stared at him, feeling almost helpless, glued to the spot. My eyes were stuck on his. 

    Your move or mine? The question hung in the air and I wanted an answer; demanded it. Needed and craved it all the same.

    I was desperate to feel; his lips on mine, his arms around me, just something. Something. Anything to distract me from the swell of emotions rising in me, threatening to swallow me whole. I’ve had bad days and dark weeks and I survived, so why, why did this feel like my sinking point? Like I wasn’t going to come back up for air and drown instead?

    But I knew; I wasn’t naive enough not to. My entire existence up until this moment felt like a lie; like I was the one who told it when I was actually the result of it because someone else instigated it. 

    Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and even though I hated to look like such a mess in front of anyone, I knew it wasn’t sadness or grief making me this way. Just frustration. 

    I had plenty of it in storage from the build-up of the last few weeks and now, it was finally looking for an out. The anger would catch up to me later but right now, that wasn’t the case.  

    Something in me right now was falling apart and I just wanted that part of my mind to quiet down, to forget for a moment, to let myself go numb. I wanted to let go and still cling to something at the same time but didn’t know which I wanted more, I just knew if he gave me what I wanted it would stop hurting. 

    But, if my role to play in this Hawthorne mystery was the glass ballerina then this would be the one time I’d let the shards of glass dig into my palms. I would let only one Hawthorne experience me like this once, so long as Jameson forgot about it later on, even if that was an unrealistic reverie. 

    “-very? Heiress.” He pulled me out of the spiraling thoughts and I blinked as he came into focus. His face was concerned and his hands were hovering around my wrists. Before I could grasp what I was doing, I grabbed his forearms instinctively and held as tight as possible. He didn’t even flinch. “Heiress, talk to me.”

     It was his gentle tone that undid me. The tears I’ve barely held back before were streaming freely down my cheeks. My hands were trembling uncontrollably and in trying to stop the shaking, I gripped his arms harder. I was too out of it to even formulate a proper sentence. “Please,” I rasped. Please make this stop. Please don’t let every other clue be a life changing revelation. Please tell me not everyone is out to get me or wants me to die. Please tell me it gets better. Please kiss me. Please hold me. Please tell me some part of you actually cares. Please. 

    Jameson slowly brought his hands up and cupped my cheeks. His thumbs gently wiped away the fresh set of tears but when he tried to clear away the tear tracks with his sleeve, I couldn’t hold myself back. I sprung up on tiptoe and closed the short distance between us, practically colliding into him when I pressed my lips to his. I savored it, desperate to feel that rush of adrenaline like when we had our first kiss. But I didn’t, all I could feel instead was my increasing heart rate as he didn’t reciprocate. 

    He broke away, shaking his head. Jameson gave me a lopsided smile but it was small and sad, lacking the usual mischievousness. “You have to tell me what you want.” I blinked. What is your angle here, Jameson Hawthorne? 

    I didn’t reply and tried to kiss him again, grabbing his loosened collar to pull him down towards me but he relented. Jameson deliberately pulled his chin up and the more I struggled, the more his head went back. “Use your words.” I didn’t. 

    Unfortunately, I did have to stop for a moment to catch my breath which he took to mean as an impasse and moved one of his hands from my jaw, bringing it to the back of my head. “Just tell me what you need, Avery. Easy as that.” He twirled some strands of my hair around his finger as he said that. Then he released it and did it again. I glared at him while he simply arched a brow. He used my name. Now you’re just playing dirty. Clearly, if I was going to get what I wanted, I was going to have to do it his way, at least, that’s what he thought. 

    With one final attempt, I fiddled with the fabric of his collar as if considering what he said for a good few seconds before cupping the back of his neck, applying as much force as possible to make him lean down. He just smiled and moved out of reach again right as he plucked my hand, repositioning it in his and placing a kiss on each of my fingers. At this point I was just getting angry. 

    He didn’t react to my annoyance but leaned down and kissed my cheek, murmuring when he pulled back, “Heiress, trust me, I know what you want. I’m not doing this to make fun. But you’re not me. I need you to say it out loud. You’re not in a good place right now and I don’t want you to regret this later.” Surprisingly, Jameson looked very serious but his eyes were sincere; he meant it. 

    I huffed. He was right; I didn’t take things like this lightly and it would affect me in a way that it wouldn’t him. And as much as he’d shown a bit of maturity in the weeks since we met, he was still Jameson. Flirty, tricky, and emotionally unavailable. But then there were the moments like this which left my mind spinning again. He really was an enigma.

    I held his gaze a little longer then broke away, finding the wall suddenly more interesting. But I still felt his eyes on me, lingering, the question louder now in the silence than it had been when he asked it out loud. Sighing, I looked back at him, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed like the night at Wayback Cottage when he comforted, kissed, and scorned me all in the span of ten minutes. Quietly, I muttered, “I want you to kiss me.” 

    Jameson obliged and leaned down, tilting my head up as he softly and slowly pressed his lips to mine. So maybe he did know how to kiss a girl tentatively and gently. He just needed the motivation for it. But he knew exactly what I needed. Just like last time. My eyes closed and I leaned into him. He was firm and solid and warm. There was also the faint scent of his cologne but also a distinct smell that I just associated with. It surrounded me and all I could think was, Safe. I felt safe. 

   He broke away and gave me space to catch my breath but I was pulling him back down as I wrapped my arm around his neck with the other hand still entwined with his. I felt him smile against my lips and he shifted us, propping me up against the wall but never breaking the kiss. It was longer but still sweet. 

    When we parted, me silently panting and him only the slightest bit out of breath, he whispered, “You’re going to be okay, Heiress. We’re going to do this together.” 

    I breathed in deeply and repeated him. “I’m going to be okay. I’m not going to do this alone.” 

    “Damn straight. You’re better than okay. You’re Avery Grambs.” I rolled my eyes to which he chuckled. “Do you feel better now?” I nodded, wondering why he was whispering until I remembered Eli was in the room with us and I wanted to peek over Jameson’s shoulder but I couldn’t with how close he was to me. So that’s why he turned us. I was boxed in between Jameson and the wall, hidden from prying eyes although I’m sure my bodyguard wasn’t keen on watching us kiss. My face flamed at the thought. 

    My eyes drifted back to Jameson’s face and the playful smirk was back. “Embarrassed now, Heiress?” I rolled my eyes. 

    “Don’t start.” 

    “Oh, I’m not, just finishing what you began.” I cocked an eyebrow at him. He chuckled softly and pecked my lips once more but not before I grazed his bottom lip. “So feisty.” I snorted.

    His hand went back to my hair and he combed through the tangles, treading softly to the ends. 

We grew quiet and for some time we just stayed that way, enjoying each other’s company. I could get used to this, I thought but then waved it away. This moment was great but soon, we’d go back to the usual, whatever that was. I didn’t want to label it. But with the way he was looking at me right then, a soft look in his eyes and a little smile, I could pretend it was more.

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A/N: Hey, you made it to the end again. Congrats, you're a real trooper. I will be attempting to do a few short drabbles (much shorter than this) before I restart writing the other WIPs which I can't wait to share with you all. Reminder, as per my last fic, I announced that I would be starting a tag list and as you can see here I made good on that promise. If you're new and want me to tag you, just comment below. Catch you in the next game!

[graciegoeskrazy]

the 1975 masterlist

last updated: 5/6/2025

- newest ones in bold!

newest work: for you are so beautiful (F)

r and charli bond over their similaraties

Key!:

A - angst

F - fluff

S- sad like really fucking sad

! - heavy topics: check the trigger warnings!

☆ - a favorite of mine or a rec!

blurb masterlist

headcannon masterlist

reader instas au

text imagines masterlist

m a t t y h e a l y

Teen!Daughter!r

i wish you would (A, S)

r lives with Matty but is missing her mom, Taylor

Free now (A, S)

Matty sees his daughter for the first time in 3 years

Frail state of mind (S)

matty helps r through a panic attack

the birthday party (A, S)

matty forgets readers birthday

now you just look like anyone (A, S, !)

matty helps his daughter through an abusive breakup

we're all just the same, what a shame (F)

matty annoys his daughter and builds a fort, atpoaim rewrite

and too much racket (A)

y/n does drugs and matty helps her through it

undo (A, S, !)

y/n tells her father she might be pregnant

yeah u wanna find love (F)

y/n cries to the new Taylor Swift album

if it’s not with u (F)

matty talks about his daughter while on a podcast

then because she goes (F)

matty comes home to y/n who has a special guest over

mine (A, S, !)

y/n uncovers a secret that matty intended to stay hidden forever

you’re all i need (F, S)

reader gets cheated on and matty is there to console her

human too (F)

reader gets sick first day of huge msg show, luckily her dad is there to help her

i’ve got a woman now (F)

matty freaks out when y/n gets her first period

figure my heart out (A, S, !)

matty accidentally learns his daughters biggest secret

PART 2

“and i do make art ty v much” (F)

matty finds out y/n is a writer

if you’re living and you’re 17 (S, A, !!!!!!!!!)

y/n hates her life on the road

PART 2

my whole life waiting for you (F)

y/n and her dad a have a cute moment on stage together

an encounter (F)

y/n smokes her her first cig with her dad

Stepdaughter!r

right where you left me (A, S)

matty unexpectedly picks up swift!r from school

and when I’m home, u know i got u (S)

Mattys helps r when she has a nightmare about her dad

a party that she had to miss (A, S, !)

gabi relapses

when we are together (A, S, lil F)

swift!r runs to matty during a fight with her mom

cuz it all means nothing my dear (A, S, ☆)

matty tries to step up when y/n goes through her first heartbreak

Daughter!r

are we awake? (F)

Matty and uncle George STRUGGLE to put y/n down for a nap

sit and think about u (S)

r gets bad grade and is afraid her father will get mad

and i say do u wanna dance? (A, S)

Matty misses y/ns big performance

It was no use at all (A, S)

Matty lashes out on y/n after a breakup

she's begging you to stay stay (A, S, F, !, ☆)

matty finds his daughter he didn't know existed

PART 2 - I'll give u one more time (A, S, !, ☆) PART 3 - one more fight (A, S, !, ☆) PART 4 - one more line (F, S, ☆) PART 5 - will I know you? (A, S, F, !, ☆)

if i believe u (A, S)

matty doesn't tell you he got engaged and ends up saying something he regrets

she lays down (F)

baby y/n wakes up from a nightmare

not looking like that (F)

y/n doesn't like her dad's new haircut

it takes a bit more (A, S, !)

young healy struggles through her fathers addiction

Other

You can yourself a friend (A, S)

Matty gets mad and takes it out on Maise

inside your mind (A, S)

matty picks y/n up from school when she gets in trouble

they’re just girls (F)

the younger healy sneaks away to a 75 show...and matty doesn't know

g e o r g e d a n i e l

fosterdaughter!r

I love you, don't you mind? (A, S, !, ☆)

r is supposed to reunite with her mom but if left on failed promises

xcx!stepdaughter!r

Can you see it? Can you see it? (F)

y/n asks if George is gonna marry her mum

dancing like she way out (S,F)

r wants to ask George to the father daughter dance

I find it hard to say bye bye (A, S)

r thinks george is gonna leave

it happens to your family and your friends (A, S, !, ☆)

George helps y/n when she looses her best friend, in the worst possible way

darling that’s what humans do (A, S)

r breaks her arms while alone with george and charli gets upset

on this night, in this light (S, F)

George and Charli help r through a nightmare

change is pressure (A, S)

y/n gets in trouble at school and acts out on George.

b2b (S, F)

y/n is scared her parents are breaking up

somebody else (A, S, !, ☆)

y/n's biological father makes a surprise visit

don’t worry, darlin (F)

y/n calls George when she gets a little too drunk

do u think i have forgotten? (F, S)

George asks y/n is he can propose to her mom

PART 2 - about you

a change or heart (F, S)

George and Charli help y/n through a breakup

daughter!r

for you are so beautiful (F)

r and charli bond over their similaraties

not dying, no, just lying (S, F)

y/n blames herself for George's depression

healy!r

are we awake? (F)

Matty and uncle George STRUGGLE to put y/n down for a nap

lie to girls (S, !)

George watches r while matty goes to rehab again

is there somebody who can watch u? (F)

George takes care of y/n for the day while matty is sick

r o s s m a c d o n a l d

Daughter!r

somebody should've stayed home (F)

the boys loose maise in an arena

You can yourself a friend (A, S)

Matty gets mad and takes it out on Maise

You know I got you (F)

r gets sick while ross is on stage

Songbird (F, ☆)

ross has trouble getting baby maise to sleep

instead of living in your head (A, S)

ross finds out y/n has dyslexia

i can stage a situation (A, S, !)

ross finds out about y/n's eating disorder

making an aesthetic out of not doing well (A, F, S)

ross and y/n talk about her schools struggles

playing on my mind (A, S)

y/n is afraid she won't see her dad again

alright, baby (S, F)

y/n gets her first period and her dad is there to help

Actor masterlist

Marvel masterlist

handy dandy notebook🤍

WIP ✏️

[iam93percentstardust]

for your kiss prompts, i think ""i think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me"" has big Tony energy 💋

Aha! I return! Just like before, this is Part 1 of a 3-part fic combined from the other two prompts in my inbox

Hope you enjoy! <3

~

Steve had almost said no when Natasha set him up on yet another blind date. He’s been on way too many of those things and he’s getting tired of them. It’s not that the people she recommends are bad but none of them have clicked with him like he was hoping for when she’d first suggested the idea. Natasha is a great matchmaker; she’s set up most of the people in their circle of friends. And after years of trying and failing to find a long-term partner, Steve had been willing to take a chance on just about anyone. He’d had high hopes for her suggestions, though; after all, no one else had seen the potential in Sam and Bucky. But none of them had worked out.

When she’d come to him with another date after the last failure, he’d almost turned her down. He’d been planning on turning her down. He’s still not sure how she’d talked him into agreeing to just one more blind date.

But he’s glad that he did because Tony is amazing. He’s funny and smart and a great tipper, which is always a plus in Steve’s book. He listens intently as Steve talks about his art and doesn’t go so over his head when he’s talking about his own work in robotics. They don’t agree on anything but the big things, but somehow, arguing with Tony over his favorite books and movies and hot drinks is more fun than if they liked all of the same things.

He had walked to the restaurant since he lives only a few blocks away. As it turns out, so does Tony, though in the opposite direction, so Steve offers to walk him home because his ma raised a gentleman. Tony looks delighted at the hand that Steve offers him and takes it, shyly confessing that he’s never had a partner who wanted to hold hands in public (Steve would like to hunt down every person who never wanted to be seen in public with him).

When they reach Tony’s apartment—a much nicer building than the one Steve lives in, all gilded Art Deco and bright open spaces—Tony tugs them to a stop just under the awning.

“This was really nice,” he says. “I’d like to do this again.”

“Oh good, me too,” Steve replies around a relieved sigh and then immediately wants to put his face in his hands. That probably sounded too eager, didn’t it? He’s supposed to play it cool, say something like ‘yeah, sure,’ right?

Tony, however, just giggles. “It’s nice not having to worry if you’re playing games,” he says. Oh. That makes things better.

“So I guess we should exchange phone numbers, then?” he asks. It’s been so long since he cared about a second date that he’s forgotten how this is supposed to go.

“Probably,” Tony agrees and waits for Steve to pull out his phone so he can recite his number. Steve texts him a quick This is Steve, so Tony will have his number.

“Guess I should wish you a goodnight, then,” Steve says, kind of wishing that the night never had to end.

“You don’t think you’re forgetting something?” Tony looks very amused.

Steve thinks back over the night. He’s got his wallet, he has Tony’s phone number, they’ve agreed to see each other again. “…No?”

“I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me,” Tony says.

“Oh!” Steve exclaims. “You’d—you’d like that?”

Tony steps in closer to him, running his hands over Steve’s shoulders. “Yeah, big guy, I’d like that a lot.”

Well, Steve can kiss him. That’s totally something he can do. That’s—Tony kisses him first, tasting like strawberry daiquiris and powdered sugar from the dessert they’d shared. Steve’s hands settle on his hips, fingers digging into the probably-expensive fabric of his shirt. His eyes flutter closed, his mind blank, existing in the moment instead of worrying about what happens next.

It comes to an end all too soon. Tony steps back, and Steve’s eyes open again in time to see his soft smile.

“Goodnight, Tony,” Steve murmurs.

Tony leans in to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight, Steve. I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” he agrees, thinking it’ll be the next day before Tony contacts him for another date. But to his surprise, he’s barely gone two feet down the street before his phone buzzes.

He pulls it out and can’t help smiling at the message: Are you free tomorrow?

Alright, so maybe Natasha’s pretty good at this after all.

[jaehunnyy]

Ride or die

☆ SECOND ENDING OF TAKE A CHANCE ON ME ☆ (please read that first for it to make sense ^^)

Genre: a bit of action, crack, fluff, strangers to lovers

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: cowboy!Mingi x gn!reader

Warnings: swear words, mentions of weapons, bullets, someone is being killed (but he's a villain), time skip but they are in love, pet names, broken humour, possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu

Networks: @cromernet 🤍

Tiredness seemed to take the best of you, so you did what you thought was best; went home. You didn't want to spend your non-existent energy on some guy you just met and seemed to have beef with right away—and despite Mingi being another unknown face you happened to meet, you couldn't lie, but he kinda had you wrapped around his finger. The little kiss on your cheek had butterflies dancing inside your stomach, and you just wanted to get to know him better, to see the mysterious cowboy again. You let your steps guide you on the well-known path to your house, an exhausted smile stretching your lips as you saw the familiar building. You got inside right away and threw yourself on the couch, falling asleep while thinking about the sharp eyes under his brown hat.

The next morning came almost immediately, the sunset having you in front of the bar you worked at while you inspected the door. Fuck, did I forget to lock the door? Did someone break into this place? You were overwhelmed. When you tried unlocking the door with the keys only you owned, the door opened without any effort. You stepped cautiously inside, grabbing a vase full of flowers from some shelf—you needed to be prepared. You tried to keep as silent as possible, yet a sharp scream left your mouth the moment someone covered your eyes.

"Shhh, doll, it's just me." he whispered in your ear, planting a kiss there as he smiled and you turned to face him.

"You scared the fuck out of me. Why are you here so early? And how did you get here?"

"I'm good with lock picking. And I couldn't let you clean alone, I wanted to surprise you."

"Such a well-mannered assassin, who would have thought?" you said, getting on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheek.

He smirked, tucking some hair strands under your ear as he said: "I'm good with people who deserve my kindness."

"What if you used it against them instead? You know, as one would say, kill 'em with kindness."

"That is just overrated, doll." he said, laughter escaping from his lips, making you giggle at how beautiful he sounded.

He sounded pure, and you truly hoped you could get to know him better, to see what was hidden under his crazy assassin persona. You didn't know what had gotten into you, and what made you feel so safe with a criminal; yet, in a world full of cruelty, Mingi begged to differ.

"Should I come pick you up when your shift's over? We can have a nice walk around the city."

"I… would actually love that, Min."

Min. What a silly nickname, yet how happy he felt when it was coming from you.

The time of freedom has finally come, and Mingi kept his promise; there you were, walking hand in hand, his hat on your head as you admired how the wind messed up his pink hair. You thought it was cute—the way he put some of his accessories on you, turning you into a mini-him, he was truly cute and one day was enough for you to see his true self. You two stopped at a river near the city, surrounded by imposing trees and covered in the darkness of the night.

"I usually come here to clear my mind a bit, it's quite a safe place for me," Mingi spoke, looking at you as you were excitedly admiring the surroundings: "And you're the first person I have ever brought here."

His words finally brought you back to reality, making you look at him as he smiled at you.

"What did you say?" you dared, raising an eyebrow as his lips curled into a playful smirk.

"Nothing, doll." he shrugged, facing the river and taking in the scenery.

You started to walk around, hearing several shifting sounds as you approached some trees. You could swear you saw some silhouettes behind them, but you thought it was just your imagination; yet when you saw a man pointing a gun at Mingi's unguarded back, you decided it was time to take matters into your own hands. Thus, you went next to Mingi, pretending to hug him, your hand slipping close to his gun holster. You took the revolver and pushed Mingi aside, closing your eyes and pulling the trigger—the reverberating sound of the gunfire filled your ears, the only things you heard after were some screams, the outlaws shouting "Let's run" to each other while they disappeared in the darkness.

Mingi was astonished by what had just happened, way too fast for his relaxed state of mind, as this used to be his safe space.

"Did I… did I just kill him?"

"I'm afraid we gotta hide the body now, love."

"I'm… will the police search for me too now?"

"Nah, babes. You're safe with me." he said, his hands finding their way around your waist, holding you close to him. "You saved my life, thank you."

"I guess we're even now, Min."

Maybe life as an outlaw wasn't as bad as it seemed, especially since you had Mingi by your side. You were on your way to meet his friend, Hongjoong, your body now clothed in a leather outfit, similar to Mingi's.

"Are you nervous?"

"To meet Hongjoong? Pfff, not at all. I might say I'm more scared of meeting his goat friend than him."

Mingi couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, imagining how offended Joong would act at your silly joke. Perhaps that's what made him fall in love with you so easily—yet, when you heard Hongjoong's imposing voice and noticed his intimidating posture, maybe, just maybe, you felt the need to grip Mingi's hand tighter, eyes locking with his sharp ones as he smiled.

"So, that's our new outlaw?’’ Hongjoong said, lowering the bandana around his mouth just enough so you could see his lips moving.

You looked at Mingi and smiled when he squeezed your hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a chaste kiss on it, making you nod to Hongjoong.

"Pretty skilled if you ask me. We met because I saved their life, yet we were brought together by them saving mine." he said proudly.

Hongjoong smiled brightly at you, forgetting about his tough persona for just bit of time, so you could ease yourself a bit. He then smirked at Mingi, happy stars gathered in his eyes for his friend's achievement—finding himself someone who risked it all for their love, his ride or die. Mingi was also one of a kind; he loved showing you off, be it to his friends, missions, or anything. He loved matching his leather coat and hat to yours, leaving the sweet illusion of the perfect couple, cause you two were near one. And even though your relationship might have been a new one, he was ready to see it bloom into something even more beautiful under his eyes.

"I love you, Y/n." he said, bringing your face closer to his and touching your lips with his.

"I love you too, Min." you said, returning the sweet favor.

"Yah, you two, get a room! Disgusting." the eldest said, yet the smile on his face gave him away for the way his heart jolted in happiness for his friend.

Destiny seemed to have many plans for you and you didn't expect this to be part of your future, yet, even if you were villains in other people's stories, what mattered to you was that you two were the heroes of each other's lives, forever tied by a thread, together.

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight Chapter 11

a/n: Things are picking uppppp

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Angst! canon typical mentions of violence. some fluff

Other Chapters

You spent an hour showing Azriel all the photos on your phone and telling him the stories behind the really silly ones. He’s fascinated by all of it: your life, your world. It’s all so foreign yet so similar to his own. You turn it off and turn to him “I feel like I talked too much” you smile sheepishly. “Not at all, I love listening to your stories” he looks around and then says “want to do something fun?” 

“I don’t think this was a good idea” you are stiff as a board as Azriel leads you around the frozen Sidra. “Do they not have ice skating in your world?” One foot slides in front of the other and you almost fall flat but he keeps you upright. “Yes we do but where I lived it didn’t snow so I never did it” you shiver. “You need a thicker coat, this one won’t do” he holds your hands and skates in front of you. He spreads his wings to block out most of the wind. “Bend your knees a little” you do as he says and feel a bit more stable. “Az, I don’t mean to be a downer but can we do something else?” He chuckles, “sure” and changes course. 

You’re walking up the path to the River House and linger a few steps behind Azriel, spotting a fire pit. “Let's make smores!” he doesn’t know what they are, you realize as he stares at you with no recognition in his eyes. “Come on” and drag him to the kitchen. 

“Ok so you put the marshmallow on the stick and roast it until it gets melty, then you make a little sandwich with the chocolate and the crackers” you explain as you hand him a marshmallow on a stick. You involuntarily giggle as you watch him methodically twirl the stick so the marshmallow is evenly roasted. “What?” He asks “nothing”, you look back to your own marshmallow and curse when you realize it caught on fire, now it’s him who laughs. 

“Try it” he looks comically large with the tiny smore in his hands “I’m sure I’ll like it”. You insist “try it!” He smiles and bites down and his eyes go wide “it’s good isn’t it?” He nods “it’s really good” you do a little dance, excited that he enjoyed it. You moan when you bite down on yours “I missed these”. 

Your head is on his shoulder and his wing is wrapped around you as you watch the sun come up. “Are you going to go back with Lucien?” You suppose the bubble had to burst at some point. Reality sets in as the first rays of sunlight hit your face. “Yes” he doesn’t say anything for a while “I’ve missed you at the house” you focus on the sunrise “I’ve missed you too, but I’m doing better now” his wings shift. “What was so bad about being here?” The ice on the Sidra is sparkling now. You lift your head from his shoulder “nothing was bad. But I felt isolated and the days in the library were driving me crazy. My life revolved around the portal and getting back. I loved spending time with you and the others… but I felt like I was caged in. And in the Human Lands I’ve been able to move forward. I really like what I’m doing at the Apothecary and can see a future for myself” he nods. “You don’t see a future here? With us?” You shrug “not really. I really appreciate your friendship and all of your help but my life will be much shorter than yours… and I can’t imagine aging and withering away while all of you remain intact” his face hardens. “So what? You’ll build a life in the human lands and forget that we exist?” You knew he wouldn’t be happy with your answer but couldn’t bring yourself to lie. “I’ll never forget you, but I would like to have a regular life, similar to the one I used to have”. You can hear the house start to wake up behind you “if I asked you to stay with me, would that change anything?” You stay quiet for a moment. There was something between you, more than friendship. “No. You wouldn’t have a full life with me”. He grabs your hand “that’s not true”. A breeze ruffled the barren branches  on the trees around you “yes it is, I have sixty years left if I’m lucky. We wouldn’t be able to have kids and soon enough I’d just be a burden” he turns his head to face you and you remain looking ahead. “You’d never be a burden. Not to me” taking a steadying breath you look at him “let’s just enjoy the rest of the holiday, yeah?” He thinks about it, clearly not happy about the outcome of the conversation “alright”. 

“I think this is a bit excessive” you turn away from the mirror and look at Azriel. He is doing a terrible job of concealing his amusement “you need a coat”. You scowl “yes, a coat. This is more of a collection of pillows sewn together. I can barely move my arms in this, how am I supposed to ride a horse?” He can’t contain his laughter as you strain to move your arms. The coat was made for someone much taller and bigger than you but Azriel insisted you try it on. “Oh, I’m glad you are enjoying this. Help me take it off” he lifts the heavy coat from your shoulders and you wipe sweat from your brow. “That thing is like a sauna” he hands you one that looks more wearable “try this one”. It was much better than the last, lilac colored and lined with high quality wool, the outside was a flexible waterproof material “I like it”. He was smiling when you turn to him “that color suits you”. 

“We’re leaving in the morning,” Lucien tells you. You knew your visit would be brief, God knows what Jurian and Vassa have gotten up to while the two of you were away, but it still stung. “Alright” Lucien walks over to where you’re sitting “you can stay if you want”. You shake your head “no, I told Muriel I wouldn’t be gone long”. He nods. “We should probably go have dinner with everyone” you stand and link your arm with his.

When you returned to the Manor you quickly rode down to the Apothecary. Not willing to sit idly as your thoughts spiraled. Muriel was happy to see you. “Hi, darlin’. How was your Solstice?” You take off your coat and go to hug her “it was really nice. How about yours?” She lets out a long breath “It was very hectic, let me tell you. The whole family got together at my little house and my niece’s baby would not stop cryin’. Poor thing had a fever the whole day”. You frown, I’m sorry to hear that '' she shrugs “he’s teethin’, not much can be done about it. That’s a pretty coat” you grin “it was a present”. Her eyebrows raise “is he handsome?” You blush “yes, very”.  Who is he? Is he from the village?” You shake your head, “he lives further North”. Muriel didn’t know about your situation. She knew you lived in one of the big houses in the countryside but she did not know that your roommates were a Mortal Queen, a resurrected male and an heir of Autumn. “That’s a shame, I would’ve loved to tease you” at which you laugh and begin to work “I’m sure you’ll find other things to tease me about”. 

The weather was brutal after the Solstice. Everyday got colder and colder. You had started to leave the Apothecary after lunch because the road to the Manor would become treacherous with afternoon snow and ice, some days you couldn’t go at all.  

You left the shop when it had started to snow, wanting to avoid getting trapped in the small space. You weren’t expecting to be caught in a blizzard.  But twenty minutes after leaving you could not see more than a foot in front of you. Panic. Fear. Cold. You did not know what to do in this situation. The only thing that did not seem completely suicidal was to stay in place and hope the blizzard passes quickly, then you could find your way home. 

You never found out how long the storm lasted. 

Never made your way home. 

A cold blunt object struck the back of your head and the world went black before you hit the ground. 

It felt like an elephant was stomping on you. You take a few breaths before attempting to open your eyes. Each movement sent a wave of pain up your spine and to your head. When you peak through half closed eyes. It was dark. Eyes open fully now and you can barely see your hand in front of your face. You’re lying on your side on cold stone floors. What the fuck. When you lift yourself on all fours the world spins and you empty your stomach immediately. Concussion. The last thing you remember is the sound of metal against something hard. My head. Your heart starts to beat faster. Reality setting in. Crawling around the room, you find that three walls are pure stone and one is a metal grate. You feel for any other injuries and sigh in relief as you realize you are fully clothed and unscathed. Your stomach drops as you hear wood creaking. Light flooding the chamber you were trapped in. Slow steps approach. Low voices murmuring. There’s more than one.  You crawl to one corner and make yourself as small as you can. If you can’t run then you might as well try to hide. 

“You say a new one was captured yesterday?” an authoritative voice echoes. “Yes, sir. Her capture was executed during the blizzard. The men took extra care to leave no traces” no response. “Which cell is she in?” The steps stopped “Number ten, sir”. “Very well, go prepare the horses, I’ll be done here shortly” steps fade away as whoever was there leaves. Heavy steps near the cell. You try to breathe normally but your heart is beating too fast. Even crouched on the floor you’re lightheaded. “What do we have here?” you don’t dare look up, keeping your head tightly between your arms. The voice is laced with the promise of violence. They strike against the grates of your cell. The sound makes you jump, your head lifting as your arms come out in front of you, trying to block the impact. Your eyes are shut and a few seconds pass before you open them. You clam up, recognizing the male on the other side. 

“Y/n?” the male asks, genuinely confused. 

Lucien had winnowed to the Manor after visiting Tamlin. Each visit was worse than the last, this time Tamlin only grunted at him, still in his beast form. It was light out when it started to snow. “Where’s y/n?” He asked Jurian “at the Apothecary”, Lucien frowned. The weather was bound to get worse and the Manor was about an hour on horseback from the shop. “I’m going to get her before she gets stuck in the blizzard” Jurian nodded, and said teasingly “I should go with you, humans are still uneasy around your kind”. It was the truth, there were humans that still feared the fae. Lucien couldn’t blame them. Generations of fearing his kind and the recent war gave them more than enough reason to harbor animosity towards them. 

He waited down the street from the shop while Jurian went to tell y/n they had to leave. “Muriel said she already left” his shoulders sagged in relief, “she must be home by now” and winnowed back to the Manor. 

Lucien suspected that something was off when the horse, his horse, was missing from the stables. He decided to wait half an hour before going out to look for her himself. 

He knew that something went wrong when the horse showed up in the middle of the blizzard. Without a rider. 

Vassa confirmed that something had happened when the sun set. “It was a convoy, they knocked her out before she knew what was happening. I followed them until they reached one of the tunnels”. 

“Why am I here?” Your voice is uneven. Eris’s eyes are wide “my father ordered that you be captured”. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know, but you won’t be here for long” his voice was gentle now, you had never heard him speak like that. Most of your interactions were sarcastic retorts. The door opens again “Sir?” 

“I’ll be up in a minute” he shouts to the same voice from before then looks at you again “are you hurt?” You nod “I think I have a concussion”. His nostrils flare “anything else?” You shake your head. He looks towards the door again then back at you “come closer”. You manage to get up and walk towards him, leaning on the grates as the world spins. He whispers “I’ll be back later. Do not speak to anyone. Don’t react if someone comes in. You being here must be a mistake, so just lay low and I’ll get you out soon” you nod “where am I?” He sighs “this is the Autumn Court dungeons. I’ll be back soon. Remember what I told you”. He steps away from the cell and walks towards the exit.  You have no choice but to huddle in the corner and wait. 

Eris was utterly terrified when he saw that she was his father’s new project. She is just a human girl, he thought as he walked up the stairs and out of the dungeons. What business could Beron want with her? She won’t survive a week down there, let alone torture at the experienced hands of his father. He did not want to think of what would have happened to her if it had been one of his brothers that had made the round today. Eris cut his routine patrol of the Forest House grounds short and made his way to his fathers study. 

Three firm knocks on the mahogany door “enter”, his father commanded. Closing the door behind him he waited to be addressed. “Sit” Beron was reading over some papers, only after he was finished did he look up. “What is it?” Eris remained still, his posture perfectly straight, his face poised in an unreadable mask. “I saw the human girl in the dungeons” Beron leaned back in his chair, relaxed “and?” Eris continues “she seems irrelevant, why waste the time and resources to retrieve her?” The low chuckle that escapes Beron’s lips makes him nauseous. “She seems to be the Night Court’s newest pet. I thought I’d have some fun”. “How is she involved with the Night Court?” He shrugs “I’ll find out when she and I get the chance to talk” it takes more effort that Eris would like to keep his rage unnoticed. He stands and before he is able to leave his father’s voice stops him “when you see Lucien again tell him his choice of company is utterly disappointing” he nods and takes his leave, winnowing to his private wing on the Forest House.

Once he is alone he runs his hands through his hair and lets out the string of curses he had been holding in. The thought of his father being alone with her for even a second makes him sick. He knows she lives with Lucien and he knows she has ties with Night. How long has he been watching her?  He needs to get her food and water, Beron would let his political hostages starve for less. Being associated with Rhysand would be enough to have her flogged.

It's after midnight and the house is dead quiet. Eris winnows from the kitchen to the dungeons without making a sound. He creates a fireball that hovers in front of him for light. The dungeons are pitch black without it. When he makes it to her cell he is relieved to see that she remains untouched. He needs to get her out soon. “Hi” her soft voice brings him out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry I took so long, but here” he hands her a bowl of warm stew through the grates. “Thank you” she reaches for it and immediately digs in “here is some water as well” he says and places the bottle on the floor. “My father knows about your ties to the Night Court” she stops eating and looks straight at him “he has plans to… question you” she gulps. “I need you to tell me everything. He won't tell me why he’s keeping you here and I need to know what he knows so I can get you out” he can see her thinking about what to say. Weighing her options. 

She takes a breath and tells him everything. 

The next day, Eris winnows to the Manor of Exiles. He knocks on the door and is disappointed to see Lucien on the other side. He knows where y/n is but a part of him hoped it had been a hallucination, some sort of roundabout fever dream. “What is it?” His brother has clearly not slept. “Y/n is in the Autumn Court dungeons awaiting questioning” Lucien pales and Eris goes on “Beron has been spying on her for a while, he is aware of her, and your, ties to the Night Court and is going to use her as leverage”. He follows his brother to the sitting room and is forced to repeat what he said to Jurian. “How do we get her out?” Eris explains the situation: Beron’s special interest in you, the guard outside of the dungeons and the grates that only open if his father wills it. “You have to tell Rhysand” that wasn’t a conversation Lucien wanted to have. He didn’t want to see the Shadosinger’s face when he heard the news, he didn’t want to face his wrath. There was no way around it though, so as soon as Eris left he winnowed to Velaris. 

Knocking on the River House door felt like a waste of time, so he just walked in and b-lined for the adjoined studies. He cursed internally when he saw two sets of wings and a shadowy mist. “Rhysand, something happened” the High Lord scrapes his talons along his mental shields and Lucien lets him in. “Gods above” he mutters and looks to the Shadowsinger “what?”. Rhysand sighs “Az, sit down for this” Azriel does not. “Tell me” Lucien speaks first. “Y/n was kidnapped by Beron”. 

Azriel must’ve blacked out “what?” he repeats. Rhysand shows him what Lucien had shown him. The horse without a rider, Vassa telling what he saw from the skies and Eris informing him that their friend’s disappearance was not an accident. He’s going to be sick. He’s going to kill Beron. Siphons flare, cobalt lights the room. “Eris said that they haven’t touched her, if we act soon we can get her out unharmed” Lucien’s voice brings him back. He has to think clearly and they need to come up with a plan, fast. 

Eris winnowed back to the dungeons. It was mid afternoon. He thought that she would probably be hungry by now so he stuffed an apple and a bread roll in his pockets. It was all he could sneak out of the kitchens without raising suspicions. Everyone in this house had sworn loyalty to the High Lord of Autumn and helping feed one of his prisoners was punishable in many ways. He lit a fireball and walked over to the tenth cell, hopefully hearing that the Night Court would be helping in getting her out would keep her spirits high. He hated the fear that had settled on her face. He was used to seeing her in the sunlight, her eyes glittering and cheeky smile always fighting to be seen. His heart sank when he saw her on the floor, in a fetal position, breath shallow.  “Y/n?” he lets out a breath when she stirs. “Y/n, wake up” his stomach drops when her head lifts to look at him. A bright purple bruise covered her left eye. It was swollen but not shut. She had a gash from where his father’s ring had made contact, just below her brow. “Shit, what did he do to you?” She sits up and winces when she puts pressure on her arm to crawl closer to him “I stayed quiet like you said, but I think that made him angrier” he scanned her face and it looked like it had only been one punch, which was tame for his father. He looked over at the rest of her and scowled when he noticed dried blood on her dress “where did the blood come from?” The gash on her eye was not deep enough to have trailed that much blood. She took her right arm out of her jacket and showed him a thin but deep slice down her forearm. That was new, his father was never careful about the cuts he made. His only goal was to inflict pain. This was a precise incision, it showed intention. “I passed out from the punch and when I woke up my arm hurt like hell”. This was worse than he thought. “Here” he hands her the apple and bread “I’ll bring you more later tonight when the house is empty” she takes the food and immediately bites into the bread. A small moan escapes her. “I spoke with Lucien, he is informing the Night Court right now, you’ll be out soon”. She doesn’t respond, he wouldn't believe himself either. “Hey” he reaches into the cell and lifts her chin “I promise” he feels a tingle down his back and he knows that she’ll have a matching mark on hers “what was that?” She looks worried “It’s just a bargain mark, when I get you out, which I will, the mark will disappear”. He hadn’t noticed how pale she was, how much blood had she lost? “Eris?” he hummed “promise me that I won’t die here” he nods “I promise”. 

“You called for me,” Beron motioned for Eris to sit. “Keir has invited us to his Court for a ball. I accepted his invitation on behalf of all of us. You’ll be escorting the girl” odd. “Why would we bring her?” he asks with an arrogant flare. “In order to the destabilize Night Court we must weaken them and I have a feeling that when the Shadowsinger sees her by your side he will take himself out of my way”.  Eris nodded “when is the ball?” His father picked up the invitation and read “Two weeks from today”.

Shit. 

“Very well”.

taglist: @luvmoo

[metalliixx]

﹒⪩⪨﹒𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝟥𝟢𝟪

𝘦𝘳𝘢: 𝟪𝟢𝘴

not smutty!!

f!reader x james

a/n: i spent a lot of time trying to write this and i'm thinking of making it into a series!! lmk if yall would like that♡

You wake up in a hotel room you don’t remember checking into. The wallpaper is made entirely of stapled-together crossword puzzles, but every word is just "CABBAGE" repeated over and over. The lamp in the corner is humming—not the bulb, the actual lamp.

On the nightstand, there's a single playing card: the 17 of Spades. You blink, and now there are three of them.

The TV turns on by itself, displaying a live feed of yourself from two seconds in the future. You watch as your future self slowly raises a hand and points behind you.

You turn around.

James is standing in the bathtub, wearing a tiny party hat. On the wall there is a phone number written. The area code doesn’t exist.

James blinks.

He spits the paper into the sink. “Took you long enough.”

The hotel room vibrates slightly, as if the building itself is clearing its throat. The wallpaper—made of stapled-together crossword puzzles—all shifts at once, revealing new words. Every single clue now simply says "James." Every answer is "Hetfield."

James steps out of the bathtub, his shoes making a faint squelch noise even though the tub was empty. He studies you for a moment, then nods as if coming to a decision. Reaching into his jacket, he pulls out a single key attached to a lanyard that reads "DO NOT LET ME FORGET."

“Where is the briefcase?” he asks.

You do not have a briefcase.

James sighs and rubs his temples. "Of course. They got to you first."

Before you can ask who they are, the TV flickers on by itself. The screen shows the hotel room—this hotel room—but there’s one major difference: James isn’t there. Instead, in his place, there's a pile of old VHS tapes labeled in a language you don’t recognize. One of them is labeled with your birthday.

James stares at the screen. “Well, that complicates things.”

Outside, the unmistakable sound of horseshoes clicking against pavement grows louder. A knock at the door. Three slow, deliberate taps.

James gestures toward the peephole. “Check it. But don’t react, no matter what you see.”

You hesitate, then step toward the door. James stays perfectly still, watching you with an unreadable expression.

The knock comes again. Three slow, deliberate taps.

You press your eye to the peephole.

Outside, in the dimly lit hallway, stands a man wearing a deep-sea diving suit. The old kind, with the massive brass helmet and thick, ribbed tubing. His posture is unsettlingly casual, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly like he’s listening for something. On the glass faceplate of the helmet, a single word has been written in what looks like condensation from the inside:

"ALMOST."

James exhales sharply behind you. “Shit.”

You step back from the door. “Who is that?”

James doesn’t answer right away. He reaches into his jacket again, but this time, instead of another key, he pulls out a single sugar packet from an unfamiliar diner. He stares at it like it's a loaded weapon. "Alright. We don’t have much time."

The TV flickers. The image changes. Now, instead of the VHS tapes, it shows the hallway outside. The diver is still there, but he’s closer. Much closer. The perspective is all wrong—his helmet is filling the screen, like his faceplate is against the camera lens. The word "ALMOST" is gone.

A new word appears, written in dripping condensation.

"NOW."

The knock comes again, but this time, it's not three taps. It's one long, slow scrape—like fingernails dragging down a chalkboard.

James tosses you the sugar packet. "Put this in your pocket. Do not open it."

The room vibrates again, harder this time. The crossword wallpaper unstaples itself and begins fluttering to the floor. The overhead light dims, then flickers, then shifts color to a deep, unnatural red.

James adjusts his party hat. "Alright," he mutters. "We're gonna have to run."

[xerith-42]

The second turning point

@cinnamontoastcroonch I hope you're happy.

I've been taking a critical eye to every episode of Minecraft Diaries as I rewatch it. And I mean writing upwards of entire essays about single episodes. As you saw with episode 65. Part of why I've been doing this is to see where things truly went wrong with this show. The early episodes were better than I remembered, but I know for a fact there was an entire falling apart that happened between the utter quality that is an episode like say episode 58, and well... Season 3.

Obviously episode 65 was the turning point, but that was just the inciting incident. All the problems in MCD ultimately come down to the love triangle and how poorly it was handled. And the next major step was in episode 77. Episode 77 is an episode that is mostly spent on minimal character interactions at the wolf tribe after the gang finally gets back there with Logan and everyone else. Aphmau spends most of the episode building a boat, and then getting distracted from building her boat.

Until she decides to go check on the Nether Portal. It's broken, like when she last saw it, but Laurance is standing in front of it. I need to emphasize something. Up until this point, we've gotten very few conversations where Laurance brings up being a Shadow Knight. He usually diverts these conversations, or they get diverted by others, so we've gotten very few personal insights into a Shadow Knights existence. This is one of the first real times that we get a deeper look at how this condition has effected Laurance.

And y'know what? I'm just gonna give you a quote from my video essay on this. A nice little teaser. As a treat :)

His mind has sort of been rewired to put himself before others, even if he’s naturally a very selfless person. Which is a real slap in the face when you remember most Shadow Knights are guards, who are encouraged to be selfless. His heart still loves dearly and he is still the same selfless fool who threw his life away to save Aphmau, but his mind is telling him to be more selfish, take what he wants without regard for others. Laurance is actively fighting these thoughts all the time, but he worries that one day he might give in and… He says he never wants his heart to forget Aphmau, even if his mind tells him otherwise.

This. This hurts me. It's quality Laurance content. It's a great moment of Laurance proving one of his greatest strengths and weaknesses. How emotionally vulnerable he is. It makes him easy to hurt. It means he'll actually express it. He's struggled to talk about being a Shadow Knight, but now he's able to.

Imagine if episode 65 let him see the fear of killing Aphmau before this.

And just as Laurance says that absolutely heartbreaking line, GUESS WHO HAS TO MOSEY HIS SORRY ASS INTO THE ROOM?! Garroth just waltzs in there and interrupts this incredibly private conversation that he just happened to be listening to. Now, I will say, there is a way to justify this that I will accept, but I know without a doubt the writers didn't intend this.

The only way this works is if Garroth is listening to this conversation because he's scared of leaving Aph and Laurance alone in case Laurance decides to just... Kill her. But then he feels bad. But that would probably make him walk away out of guilt.

So yeah this doesn't make sense. For Garroth. At all. Why is he so scared of Laurance and Aphmau literally having one conversation? Well, it's the answer it always is. The love triangle. They've shown before that they are willing to disregard basic logic, only to prove that they know the details of this logic in a later episode. In Episode 65 they disregard Garroth's fears around his family, and then center an entire conversation around it in Episode 68.

But wait, it gets worse. Because Garroth knows for a fact that Aphmau and Laurance having an emotional conversation won't likely lead to any romance.

BECAUSE HE SAW LAURANCE CONFESS TO APHMAU 24 EPISODES AGO AND SAW HER REJECT HIM!!

There were seven weeks in between these episodes!! Idk how long it takes to make an episode of MCD, but I imagine episodes are written in major arcs at a time. How did they forget what happened IN THE LAST MAJOR ARC OF THE SHOW?! Because. Love triangle. Because Jesson don't care about the characters they previously wrote, they care about these characters fulfilling an already existing trope they liked in something before. They don't care how this dynamic might change because of their own characters, just that they go through the motions.

So Garroth interrupts this conversation. Laurance gets snippy and tells Garroth to fess up or else he might "sweep her off her feet first." And that's a red flag for Laurance. Good job writers. And let's be clear, I don't disagree with characters maybe being shitty, as long as it doesn't contradict previous characterization. Like this does.

The writers forgot that Garroth saw Laurance's confession. They forgot that Laurance took rejection on the chin. They forgot that Laurance literally said "I'm just happy to be in your life." Did they forget about Laurance's entire confession?! Do the writers think that went away when he stopped being blind?!

...

Oh fuck... Did... Did Laurance only accept rejection because he didn't think he was good enough to be with her when he was blind? Is that what they're trying to say? I... I really hope that isn't. And yet I wouldn't be surprised. Just completely and utterly disappointed.

That took a turn I didnt like. I don't know how to end this now.