#I do stand by my last paragraph that I honestly couldn’t care less if some fans choose to ignore canon due to the time period | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Note

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @little-gremlin-in-the-walls @tinyegg @mintmochiii @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @rat-poisin @alm334 @cdizzlevalntyne @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity

#punk!georgenotfound #punk!george #punk!gnf #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound au #georgenotfound smut #gnf x y/n #gnf smut #gnf x reader #gnf imagine #mcyt x you #mcyt au #mcyt x y/n #mcyt smut

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novelconcepts · 3 years

Note

Jamie & Dani short prompt- Online Dating au meeting online and being from bad past relationship. Thank u

This is probably a bad idea. It is, isn’t it? Almost certainly.

Why is she here?

Dani Clayton has been playing this particular set of thoughts--bad idea, terrible idea, why would you do this?--on repeat for three days. Ever since setting up that dating profile. Ever since realizing there isn’t much use in setting up a dating profile if you’re not going to use it.

Oh, it’s all fun and games, building the thing. Find a photo that accentuates all the best parts of your face--Dani, after an hour of careful consideration, wound up going with one that accentuated her hair, more than anything, but she suspects the same idea counts. Then, the profile. What do you like? Teaching, long walks, new experiences, bad coffee. What don’t you like?

Men, she’d thought, and snorted aloud into her wine before settling on: Deep water, accordion music, expectations, being called Danielle.

A little more flourish, tipsy keystrokes, a casually-framed short-version of her life. Perfect. And then...well, then you hit the publish button, don’t you? You decide, for better or worse, to jump off this diving board and see just how far you can stand to swim before the energy gives out on you.

The faces appearing before her hadn’t been bad, certainly. Pretty, most of them. Interesting, a few. Still, she hadn’t swiped right on any--once or twice, because she’d forgotten which way meant yes please, but mostly because no one seemed quite...right. Which, she’d thought, was silly. The whole point of an app like this is to cast as many nets as possible and see what comes up. The whole point is to have fun.

But every time she’d hovered over a promising image, a woman who likes dogs, or plays the violin, or goes rock-climbing in her spare time, she’d thought of him. Eddie. Who had taken one yes to a single date, and tried to make a whole life with her out of it.

Eddie, who had taken her two decades to pull away from.

What if the women here were the same? Not Eddie, exactly, but--presumptive. What if they believed a swipe-right was as good as a marriage proposal? What if she got bound up in conversation, and then a date, and then a relationship with someone else who just didn’t fit right?

Left. Left. Left.

And then: the mistake.

She hadn’t meant to swipe right. Exactly. She hadn’t planned, maybe is the better way of putting it, on swiping right. She’d only wanted to look at the woman’s profile a little longer. Only wanted to inspect the facets this woman had put out on display with almost resigned simplicity.

Some people, Dani had by now realized, wrote poetry and paragraphs to describe themselves.

Jamie Taylor had bullet points.

“Gardener. English. Likes: Plants. Stories. Tea. Dislikes: Bullshit.”

The end. That had been quite literally the sum of it. Gardener. English. No bullshit.

But the picture, somehow, Dani hadn’t been able to look away from. Not because of carefully-arranged lighting, not because of a curated model-clean image--but because the woman appeared to have posted the photo almost under duress. It came in profile, as though someone else had done the job, her head turned toward the camera as if interrupted. Her hands were buried in a flower pot. Her clothes were simple--a tank top, a silver chain resting against the jut of collarbones, a pair of worn-looking jeans with holes in the knees. Her eyes--some fascinating color Dani couldn’t quite place--looked somewhere between amused and irritated.

She looked real.

Stupid, Dani thinks now--because that was probably the idea, wasn’t it? This woman, Jamie, had planned to look exactly this way. Real. Vexed at the idea of putting herself out there. Reluctantly available.

It was a ploy, certainly--but one that seems to be working, because not only did Dani accidentally-not-accidentally swipe right, she found herself texting the woman. For hours. She’d expected much less, had figured this Jamie person would be as brief in text as she had been in bio, but...

Jamie had talked to her. Willingly. Teasingly, with more humor than truth, maybe, but with no sign at all that she was sick of Dani’s questions, bad jokes, nervous assessment that I really don’t do this, I honestly don’t get it.

I don’t, either, Jamie had replied, and that had felt like enough of a reason to keep testing the waters. Enough of a reason to keep the conversation going back and forth, back and forth, until nearly two in the morning.

Shit, she’d said. I need to be at work in four hours.

Shame, Jamie had replied, her tone already searingly familiar over text. Own your own business, make your own hours. Far wiser approach.

I’ll make a note of it for when I found an elementary school, Dani had replied, laughing. She hadn’t said she’d already been in bed for an hour, the phone resting on the pillow beside her head so she wouldn’t miss the buzz of a new message. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, with wine-warmed blood and the happy haze of good conversation. Jamie made her laugh. Jamie put her at ease. Jamie might not have been real, but she felt real, and that was good.

Better than anything she’d felt in years, if she was honest with herself.

Still, when the next day had come and gone with no message, she’d thought, Fair enough. Jamie had been good virtual company for one night. It was more than she’d expected to get out of this app.

Far more than she’d expected, particularly when Thursday night rolled around and her phone buzzed.

Teacher, yeah? No school on Saturday?

Correct, Dani had replied, as amused by the out-of-left-field text as she was irritated with how her stomach had flipped over upon receiving it. You have figured out the complexity of the American school system.

I am a genius, Jamie sent back, followed quickly by: Drinks tomorrow night?

Drinks. A thing that people do. A thing that adult people do for date reasons.

She isn’t real, she’d thought, even as her thumb was punching back: How’s 8? Miller’s?

A mistake. Definitely a mistake. Because the app had been a lark, and the conversation had been too easy, and the fact that she can’t quite pick out the colors in Jamie’s eyes from a single photo is making her crazier than she’d like to admit.

A mistake, saying yes. A mistake, suggesting the local pub-like establishment around the corner, whose beer-and-burger specials had kept her fed on too many evenings spent working late. A mistake, because once this goes south--as it’s absolutely bound to, as everything Eddie-shaped always has--she’s going to lose her favorite hangout in the deal, too.

And yet: here she is. Standing at the door, wondering if the outfit chosen for the evening festivities--tight jeans, pink blouse, hoop earrings--is too much or not nearly enough.

What am I doing here?

Maybe, she thinks with mingled alarm and hope, she won’t even have showed up. Maybe it’s all part of the ruse: look approachable, look human and normal, look a little too beautiful in the most grounded way possible--then, cheerfully, invite a woman to drinks and just don’t show. A fun story for whoever comes next. Can you believe she thought I’d want to meet her after one night of texting?

“Dani?”

English, Dani thinks with a sudden rush of heat. Right. Somehow, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the accent, which--coming out of this woman, draped with languid ease at a table--is truly a little more than Dani thinks she can handle just now. The accent, combined with the mess of curls dragged back from her face, and a dress sense that manages to be both casual and deeply attractive at the same time, is...

“Jamie,” she says, her voice a little lower, a little more hoarse, than is truly necessary. The woman pushes up from her seat, a small-framed figure in a black button-down, suspenders, ripped jeans. She’s pressing a hand toward Dani, offering a firm shake as though they are business partners, not an off-the-cuff bad idea of a date. “You look--”

“Never been here before,” Jamie says, almost apologetically. She gestures for Dani to sit before dropping back down in a sprawl that implies exactly the opposite of what her mouth is insisting. “Wasn’t sure about the, ah, dress code.”

“You--you did fine,” Dani tells her, wishing suddenly she’d gone for a dress. Or a different human body altogether. She feels too tightly-strung, too anxious for the easy smile on Jamie’s lips. “Um. You’re very. In person.”

“Very,” Jamie repeats, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Is very American for wish I’d gone left, after all?”

“No. No. Absolutely not. That.” Bit too forceful, she suspects, judging by the smile spreading into a grin. “No, it’s just--your picture didn’t--tell me you’d be so...”

“Clean?” Jamie suggests innocently. She raises her hands, wiggling her fingers in a small wave. “Scrub up fine, when I need to. Seemed to call for it.”

“And you...sure did answer,” Dani says stupidly. “The. Call, I mean. I’m sorry, I really don’t do this often.”

Something seems to soften in Jamie, her smile less teasing as she leans across the table. “Hey, no worries here. Same person you were talking to the other night.”

Dani nods, embarrassed, and flags down a server. Drinks ordered, she draws in a deep breath.

“I mean, I haven’t done this in years. Or. Ever, I guess.”

“A first date?” Jamie asks. When Dani doesn’t answer, she adds in a knowing tone, “A date with a woman?”

“Both,” Dani says honestly. “My last relationship was--well, I mean, we were engaged--”

Jamie whistles under her breath, reaching up to scratch her head. “Blimey. What happened?”

“He’s...him.” It’s too much to go into on a first date, too much to explain, even though talking to Jamie over text had been so dangerously easy. “My best friend growing up, but that was...growing up.”

Jamie nods thoughtfully, tilting her chin in thanks when the server deposits two full pint glasses and a basket of fries on the table. “Rough time, sounds like. I can relate. My last relationship also did not go well.”

“Was he also a man who thought you’d be all too happy to quit your job and take care of a bunch of babies?” Dani asks, perhaps a little too bitterly for the occasion. Jamie flashes another grin, sipping her drink.

“She was a woman who thought I’d be all too happy to take the fall when she got busted for possession.”

Dani gapes. “Oh. Oh--I didn’t know--I’m so--”

Jamie shrugs. “She wasn’t wrong. I was nineteen, and deeply stupid. Live and learn, as the poets say.”

“Which poets?” Dani asks, smiling a little. Jamie’s brow furrows.

“John...Lennon, possibly? Hard to say. Anyway, relationships are a chore and a half, but the greatest people in the world tell me thirty is too old to play musical bedframes, so. Here we are.”

No bullshit, thinks Dani approvingly. For what little she’d put into her profile, Jamie evidently hadn’t been lying about that.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since you were nineteen?”

“In my mind, I was still in the relationship at twenty-four, when they let me out. She didn’t agree. Found out she’d been married two years, by then.” Something darkens in Jamie’s eyes for a moment. She sighs. “Like I said. Not my finest. But I am, as they say, a shining beacon of reform these days.”

“Now, when you say they,” Dani teases, grinning. Jamie nods decisively.

“John Lennon. Definitively.”

There it is, thinks Dani, watching Jamie pop a fry into her mouth. There, the easy roll of conversation from the other night. As though they’ve known each other forever. As though two people who have thus far failed irrevocably at relationships make a perfect match.

Easy, she thinks. Don’t go wild, now.

“So,” she says, when the comfortable silence between them has grown a bit too comfortable for the setting, “who are the greatest people in the world? The ones who tell you thirty is too old for...did you say musical bedframes?”

Jamie laughs. The ring of it curls gently around Dani’s head like a soft hand, a sound she’ll find herself replaying later with a skipping heart.

“Not many willing to put up with a grump of my caliber, but Hannah and Owen fight the good fight. So long as I at least pretend to try.”

“Let me guess. They set up the account for you?”

Jamie makes a sort of gesture in the air with the hand not holding her glass. “Threatened to bury me in puns and children, respectively, if I kept putting it off. Owen’s still grumpy about the photo choice.”

“I liked it,” Dani says without thinking. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you did swipe as much. Mind if I ask why?”

Walked into this one. Still, she doesn’t mind as much as she probably should, not with the genuine curiosity in Jamie’s eyes. “You looked--don’t laugh.”

“No promises,” Jamie says, but with the gentle tone of one who knows exactly how much to tease before it’ll hurt. The idea warms Dani in a way she’s not quite ready to look at yet.

“You looked real,” Dani says. “Like you weren’t going to play games, or waste anyone’s time. Like you just wanted to be happy in peace.”

“That is,” Jamie says, holding out a fry for Dani to take, “sort of the idea, yeah.”

There’s an almost puzzled cast to her smile, like she didn’t entirely expect this answer, and is pleased by it at the same time. That same sense from the photo sweeps over Dani now--that this woman is authentic, even if she’s not always shiny, that she’s kind even if not entirely clean. That she doesn’t have any interest in muddled expectation or living a comfortable lie.

“And me?” Dani asks. She doesn’t entirely mean to--but she’s sure, in asking, that Jamie will answer. Jamie is unlike anyone else she’s ever met, the first person she’s ever known to meet each question head-on.

“Honestly?”

Dani nods. Jamie seems to consider it, turning it over in her head as she twists a fry between her fingers like a cigarette.

“All of it.”

“That’s,” Dani begins to laugh, “that’s not--”

“No,” Jamie says, and she isn’t smiling, exactly. Her eyes have a sort of shine Dani likes very much, but there is no hint of teasing in them now. “Really. All of it. You’re...very pretty, and that’s--but the way you described yourself. Like you didn’t care to be anyone in particular. You like new experiences, and bad coffee. You hate being called Danielle. I...I wanted to know why.”

“It’s not my name,” Dani says simply. Jamie gives a brief laugh, her hand moving across the table to lightly brush Dani’s fingertips.

“I wanted to know why all of it. Why do you like bad coffee--”

“It’s the only kind I know how to make,” Dani says automatically. “Just sort of leaned into it.”

“--and teaching--”

“I want to make a difference,” Dani says.

“--and where you most like to go on those long walks--”

“Anywhere I can breathe,” Dani says. Her fingers are hesitant, tracing the tips of Jamie’s. There’s something electric about this, about barely touching, about barely knowing someone and still wanting to give them neatly-packaged secrets shaped like the mundane.

Jamie is smiling. “See, that. I like that. All of it.”

It’s nothing, Dani thinks reflexively. A collection of details. A sparse approximation of a life. Eddie knows all of this, and then some, and never matched up to knowing her.

But this woman, leaning across the table with one hand outstretched, looks so different. Watches her with steady interest. Is listening to every word Dani says, though the bar is growing crowded around them, and soon, conversation will become a task instead of a gift.

“Would you,” Dani says, feeling certain that some mistakes are not as bad as they seem, “like to take one of those walks?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. Tonight.” Emboldened by the smile, by the curl falling into Jamie’s eyes, by the knowledge that she still can’t quite make out what color those eyes are, Dani takes her hand. It’s so easy, she thinks she could do it even without looking. “Right now.”

No bullshit, she thinks. No expectations. Just Jamie looking at her like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Dani can’t blame her. This isn’t at all what she’d thought she was getting, walking in tonight.

But there’s something about it--something about the feeling that she’s been here before, or should be here forever, or will always find her way back to a woman who looks at her just like this--that almost makes her feel brave. Almost makes her feel wonderful. She rises from the table, laying cash beneath her half-empty glass, and feels a pleasant jolt in her chest when Jamie follows without another word.

If this a mistake, she thinks as they step out into the brisk evening air, it’s one she’s hungry to make.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #damie #okay I liked this one way more than planned #it's sort of nice doing a modern AU under a million words long

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doeilovr · 3 years

Text

Turn Back Time

-> Pairing: Lee Taeyong x femReader, special guest Kim Doyoung

-> Genre: Angst, Idol Taeyong au, Cheating au, break up au, a bit of smut (like 1 paragraph)

-> Warnings: cheating, cursing, suggestive themes, mention of sex, physical violence, self doubt

-> Summary: And it was moments like this you wished you could turn back time, to make him stop hurting you. Taeyong was your world and all you ever wished for was to be his too.

-> Words: 2.6 k

Disclaimer: this is not how Lee Taeyong is at all! This is merely fiction! Cheating is also not okay, just be kind, people and love truthfully!

You knew something had changed, when you heard Taeyong walk into your shared bedroom.

He was out late again, working on choreography and writing lyrics at the studio.

A month ago he would have cuddled up to you in bed, pecking you on the cheek, before he would fall asleep with his arms wrapped around your body.

But he had stopped doing that and just got into bed as silently as possible, trying not to wake you up. You were awake though. Thinking about what had changed between you two.

In the morning you would get up before him, staring at him sleeping peacefully in your bed, regretting whatever you did wrong.

You were making breakfast for the both of you when Taeyong joined you in the kitchen, his blonde hair messy and his eyes sleepy.

“Good morning”, you smiled at him, tempted to stroke his hair. Taeyong’s cold expression brought you back to reality. “Morning”, he mumbled, grabbing an apple from the counter.

You wanted to tell him you made breakfast for him, but he was faster. “I’m going to the studio. It’ll be late, no need to wait for me”, he announced, not waiting for an answer and disappearing back into the bedroom.

Your stomach twisted, you just couldn’t understand what you did wrong. You weren’t even hungry anymore, putting the freshly cooked food in the fridge for another time.

You were determined to win Taeyong back, even if you didn’t know why you had lost him on the first place. Maybe he got tired of you because you never surprised him. Maybe he wanted you to be more spontaneous. With these thoughts in mind you bought coffee and made your way to the studio.

You entered the recording studio, knowing Taeyong was alone, as it was late already. He stood in the recording booth, practicing some random verses. He looked good, wearing a white tee and ripped black jeans. His blonde hair was messy, as he was constantly running his fingers through it.

To be honest, he just looked tired.

Your breath hitched in your throat, when he locked eyes with you. Taeyong put down the headphones and stepped out of the booth.

“What are you doing here?” He walked past you, pressing some buttons on the computer.

“I brought you coffee”, you smiled, placing the Americano down next to him. Taeyong side eyed you, noticing your black coat. You felt his hot gaze on your body, making your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, actually I’m not just here for that.” Carefully you pushed Taeyong down on the leather chair behind him. He let you guide him, intently watching your every move.

You placed a kiss to his soft lips, before you grabbed his hand, guiding it to open up your coat. It had been a while since you last kissed and you had missed him. The feeling of his lips against yours. Taeyong watched you with intense eyes, opening the coat to reveal a set of white lingerie.

You had bought it just for him and felt nervous to show yourself like this, since it had been a while you two last had sex. Or just any other intimate interaction.

You sat down on his lap, your eyes never leaving his face. Taeyong gulped visibly, before you placed another kiss on his lips, this time using your tongue. His hands roamed around your body and his member twitched beneath you. Fuck, he felt so good.

Your hand traveled down his chest, all the way to the button of his jeans. You stroked him through the fabric, making him inhale sharply. “I want you, Taeyong”, you whispered, a sudden desperation in your voice.

There was a flicker in Taeyong’s dark eyes, his hand moving to yours and grabbing it quickly. Just when you thought you got through to him, he removed your hand from his crotch, pushing you off his lap.

You stepped back, watching him with sad eyes. Did he really not love you anymore?

Taeyong got up, cursing under his breath. “Don’t fucking do that”, he mumbled, his eyes moving quickly.

“Taeyong-“, you tried to reach out to him, but he moved past you and got back into the recording booth. You felt so vulnerable, closing the jacket and hugging yourself.

Was that it? Was that how you broke up with him? Why couldn’t he just explain himself or at least talk to you? You wiped away a tear that threatend to run down your cheek and left the room.

In a quick pace you moved down the long corridor, making your way to the exit, while trying to calm down. On your way around a corner you bumped into someone’s chest.

“Y/n?” Doyoung smiled down at you. You greeted him quickly and hoped he wouldn’t notice your glistening eyes.

“Are you here for Taeyong?” You started shaking your head vigorously, trying to smile back at him, but you looked rather awkward.

“I’m on my way out, actually.” Doyoung’s smile faded a bit. He just knew you too well, sensing that there was something wrong.

“Everything alright?” He furrowed his brows. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just tired”, you waved your hand around. “I’ll get going now, see you around.” Doyoung nodded, waving goodbye to you and watching you walk away.

Something for sure wasn’t right. You didn’t look happy at all. And Doyoung wondered why?

Back home you cried yourself to sleep. You loved Taeyong too much, how could he so easily turn away from you? That night he didn’t come home at all.

You just got out of the shower the next evening, when Taeyong texted you. You hadn’t heard from him the whole day and felt beyond disappointed. He could have so easily talked to you, but he chose to ignore you. “I’m out with the boys”, the text read. You didn’t reply and went on with getting ready for bed.

You were lying awake for way too long now, taking a glance at the clock to see it was not even midnight yet. Your phone suddenly rang, it was Doyoung.

“Hey y/n”, he greeted.

“Doyoung.” You often talked over the phone like this, but it had become less and less after Taeyong distanced himself from you. You felt weird being around his friends without him, which was stupid to be honest, as they all seemed to like you a lot.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” He gasped a little, probably just now realizing how late it was.

You chuckled. “No, don’t worry.” It felt good to talk to him again. “Are you also at the club?” You were curious. Honestly you just wanted to know if Taeyong had maybe talked to them about you. Who knows, maybe he was more talkative with them than with you.

“What do you mean? Who’s at the club”, he asked confused.

You chuckled nervously. “Taeyong told me he was out with you guys.”

Doyoung was quiet for a moment. “No. Taeyong did go out, but not with any of us. He went out with Jia, she’s collaborating with him, I don’t know.”

Your heart sank and you sat up in your bed, turning on the lamp. “What”, you mumbled. “Which club?”

“Pretty sure they went to Octagon. Is everything okay, y/n? You know you can tell me”, Doyoung reminded you softly.

You bit down on your lips, emotions washing over you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m going back to sleep now”, you lied. Doyoung didn’t ask any further questions and said his goodbye before hanging up.

You sighed, dropping the phone on the bed. Taeyong lied to you. He had lied. But why? Did he cheat on you? Was he cheating on you right now?

He was. In the past week, while you were waiting at home, doubting yourself and everything you ever did wrong, he was with Jia. So he was now. In the club, dancing and making out with her, trying to get you out of his head.

That’s how you found yourself standing in front of the club the same hour. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater. To your luck, Doyoung showed up too, knowing damn well something wasn’t right. He got you in the club and searched for Taeyong with you.

When you finally spotted him you didn’t feel shocked or mad. No. You were sad. Sad, disappointed and broken-hearted. You still loved this man after all, even if you saw him cheating right here and in front of your eyes.

“Y/n”, Doyoung mumbled, following your gaze to Taeyong. Despite the loud music you could hear him clearly. Doyoung couldn’t believe his eyes either. Taeyong was cheating with Jia. His best friend was cheating on his other best friend.

Fuck.

“You knew?” Doyoung stared at you wide eyed, feeling nothing but empathy.

You nodded, tears prickling in your eyes. Seeing him make out with her so easily made you feel sick. You never thought Taeyong was able to hurt you like this.

You always thought the best of him. He was so caring. You didn’t know where it went wrong, but suddenly he treated you like you were the worst person ever. He replaced you and seemed to not even feel bad about it.

Walking towards Taeyong your steps felt heavy. You couldn’t lie to yourself any longer, he didn’t love you anymore. He hurt you and you wanted him to know that.

Stopping in front of him you waited until Taeyong caught your figure next to him, immediately staring at you with wide eyes. He almost pushed Jia back, startling her, before she also noticed you standing there.

Unlike him, she didn’t look fazed at all. You wondered if she even knew you were his girlfriend. You barely held back your tears and your voice was shaky.

“Whatever I did to you, I’m honestly sorry. I hope you’re fucking happy now.” You stopped for a second, taking in Taeyong’s face one more time, his shocked expression.

Quickly you disappeared in the crowd, making your way to the exit, Doyoung running behind you. As you got out of the club, the fresh air hit your face. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, as you slowly walked down the alley.

Doyoung came up next to you. “Are you okay”, he mumbled, putting a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t look okay. And he hated seeing you this broken.

Another voice called your name and you both turned around to find Taeyong angrily walking up to you. “Y/n”, he shouted.

He looked so angry and for what reason. Doyoung quickly stepped between the two of you. “Taeyong, fucking leave her alone”, he shouted, but Taeyong only pushed him to the side.

“You fucking knew”, he shouted at you and you stepped back, scared. “What sick game are you playing”, he added.

Now you got angry too, poking his chest with your index finger angrily. “I defended you all this time. I made up stupid excuses for you and your behavior, when you didn’t even have the guts to talk to me. This is so fucking low Taeyong, even for you”, you shouted back.

“Please, you’re obsessed with me. You even show up in the same fucking club, knowing I’m with someone else. You’re a pathetic bitch.” You saw the change of expression in his eyes as soon as he said the last words.

“Y/n-“ his face softened and he tried to reach out for you, but you quickly interrupted him, slapping him across his face.

Out of reflex, Taeyong shoved you to the ground and you landed on your butt. You gasped, finding yourself sitting on the cold asphalt. Taeyong realized what he just did and wanted to help you up, but Doyoung had already rushed to you side.

“Y/n are you okay?” Doyoung grabbed your hand. You couldn’t help but burst out in tears, letting Doyoung help you up. “Please take me home”, you whispered and he quickly nodded.

Taeyong watched you two walk away, Doyoung sending him a death glare as you both turned around.

He couldn’t believe how far he had went. He hated himself so much for hurting you. He had hurt you with cheating and now he had even hurt you physically. Taeyong never wanted this to happen either. He had been tired for a long time, stopped giving you attention and touching you. But you did the same.

When Jia came to the studio, flirting non stop, he just let her. He would mindlessly fuck her until you would give him attention again. But when the time came around and you did, he had grown tired of you, too.

He hated himself and he had projected it onto you until he hated you too.

You thanked Doyoung at the entrance to your apartment, watching him drive off with the taxi, before you entered the building. Unlocking the door, you walked inside, immediately aiming for the bedroom, just wanting to go to sleep.

You were shocked seeing Taeyong in your room, examining a picture of you two together. He turned around, looking at you. For the first time in weeks he looked as sad as you. As hurt as you.

“Y/n can we talk, please”, he asked gently, moving towards you.

“It’s too late, Taeyong.”

“I love you so much”, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“No, you don’t. If you love someone you don’t ignore them, or hurt them or cheat on them. You hate me Taeyong. And I don’t even know why”, your voice cracked before you could finish your sentence.

“No, y/n. I don’t hate you.” He stepped closer again, taking a hold of your hand. “I hated myself so much. I was so sick and tired of everything. I let it all out on you. And I’m honestly so sorry. I love you so much, please.”

You cried more, your heart hurting in your chest. His fingers stroked over the back of your hand, a feeling you had been longing for for such a long time.

“You cheated on me, Taeyong”, you whispered.

He nodded, pressing his lips together, to hold back tears. “I don’t have any feelings for her. Please, y/n. Believe me, please.”

“It hurts, Taeyong. I gave you my heart and you threw it away just like that.”

Taeyong’s other hand moved to cup your face, wiping away the tear that had left your eye. “I didn’t. My heart belongs to you, you’re the love of my life.” He paused, breath shaky. “I have no excuse. Cheating on you was wrong in so many ways. I started because I thought I would find my love for you again. But fuck, I realized it was never gone in the first place. I never want to hurt you again, y/n.”

You cried out one more time, before stepping forward and hugging Taeyong tightly. He immediately pulled you closer, rubbing your back and kissing your head.

“I love you so much”, he whispered over and over again.

After a while, you pulled away from him again, sniffling and wiping your tears away.

Taeyong was all you had and wanted, but his actions scarred you deeply. You looked up at him, pecking his lips softly. It was lovely moments like this you wanted to last forever.

And it was moments like this you wished you could turn back time, to make him stop hurting you. Taeyong was your world and all you ever wished for was to be his too.

But sometimes it’s not meant to be. You would find someone else, someone that would love and appreciate you, even if times were tough.

And maybe one day you’d be someone’s world. And maybe Taeyong would be someone else’s.

a/n: I rewrote this so many times lol I hope you enjoy it. It was my first attempt on smut so please bear with me. I’d also appreciate any feedback <3

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torikengel · 4 years

Text

Thomas Hewitt x Reader (Part 10)

When you opened your eyes, the sun was already rising. You felt a pleasant warmth exuding from beside you. You rubbed your eyes to get a clear vision of what, or well who was in bed with you. You saw Thomas peacefully snoring by your side. Then the memories from the last night flooded your mind as you realized you were still both naked. Your first reaction was to panic, but then you noticed something you ignored before. Something on Thomas’s body. You had a clear view of his arm in daylight, and as you inspected his skin, you saw scars... not a few of them, but a whole bunch. These scars covered his whole arm, some were deep, and some looked quite new.

“Oh my god...” you gasped at your discovery. Your heart ached for Thomas. Right now, you had a strong urge to protect him, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. You were still a victim, but you felt less like one after every moment spent with Thomas. Maybe you felt a sense of responsibility? You believed that you could help Thomas and ease his pain... If you ran away, it would mean you betray him. You would be like all the others who stabbed him in the back. You tenderly ran your fingers through his hair.

“Tommy...” you whispered, clenching your teeth. You were split between your past and future... you missed your life, freedom, family, and friends. But then there was this man, this murderous cannibal who made your heart inexplicably flutter. You checked his arm one more time and gave him a soft kiss on the deepest scar.

“Maybe if we met sooner.” you pondered about his past. Right, if you two met under different circumstances. You placed your head back onto the pillow and turned to your side as you decided to sleep a bit more.

“Ahh...” you yelped as Thomas unexpectedly turned around to hug you from behind. But then you just smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying his presence.

When you woke up again, Thomas was gone, and so was every other evidence that would suggest he was ever next to you. Maybe it really didn’t happen, and it was just a dream? You stretched your arms and looked out of the window. The sun was already remarkably high up in the sky. You yearned for the freedom outside the walls of this house.

“You had a choice...” you sighed for yourself when you remembered how close you were to escape last night. But you didn’t turn the doorknob. You didn’t open the door. Were you really out of your mind? You didn’t understand yourself anymore. Everything you did was against natural human instincts. You stepped out of bed only to realize that your ankle is cuffed again.

“All right...” you teared up uncontrollably as you slipped down from the bed, landing on your knees. You saw your suitcase on the floor next to you, so you decided to rummage through your past. After putting on a dress and underwear, you found a diary that captured your attention, so you opened it and read.

“This road trip sucks so far; I am fairly sure they invited me only for my money. Nobody really talks with me. I swear this is the last time I am going somewhere with Emma...” was the last written paragraph. You wrote it before you threw the diary into the suitcase as you were dizzy from writing in the van, but you were frustrated, so you had to. Now you didn’t have any of your good friends or family with you so that you couldn’t share your feelings with anyone... it wouldn’t hurt if you wrote something again, right? You needed to cleanse yourself somehow.

“I was kidnapped by a local sheriff in this weird town in Texas after we had an accident on the road. Even though I am quite sure it’s not a real sheriff. This family killed Emma and the others and ate them... There are four of them... and I...” you couldn’t bring yourself to write that you purposefully missed an opportunity to escape because you had feelings for the guy who kills and butchers humans. You scrapped the idea of writing any further and stabbed the page with your pen... and again and few more times until the rest of the diary was destroyed. You threw it away and climbed back to bed. You were hungry, and you really wanted to use the bathroom, but you didn’t dare to call someone as you didn’t want Hoyt to be the one to answer you. You thought about yesterday, when you felt like more than a victim, today the reality dawned on you and mentally destroyed you. You wished Thomas would be here. You wanted to tell him how you felt about your needs. Why wasn’t he there with you?

Thomas wasn’t pleased about the situation either. Hoyt was searching for him in the morning, and when he couldn’t find him in the basement, he went looking for him in your room. He found you both in the same bed, and you weren’t even cuffed. He gestured for Thomas to immediately come out and then scolded him to no end.

“What do ya think yer doin’ Thomas? Sleepin’ in the same bed as yer bitch? Didn’t ya learn anythin’?” Hoyt rumbled. He was furious. To him, you were an outsider, a piece of meat. If Thomas really wanted to fuck you, it was for the sake of satisfaction and not some lovemaking shit. You would become dinner eventually anyway. Then Hoyt sent Thomas to the basement and told him to stay there as he wasn’t in the mood for his face, which obviously hurt Thomas, but he complied. Hoyt decided to take away some comfort from you, so Thomas couldn’t see you or let you out of the room. Plus, you didn’t receive any food.

But Hoyt left on patrol, and someone in the house didn’t like the idea of you starving to death. You heard a light knock on the door.

“C-come in.” You stuttered nervously.

“Good mornin’ darlin’.” You saw Luda Mae standing in the door frame with a plate and cup in her hands.

“Charlie isn’t in a good mood today.” she sighed. “But I can’t let ya starve now, can I?” she smiled at you while coming closer. You were so relieved. It wasn’t Hoyt, and Luda brought food.

“Is Thomas okay?” you said as you took the meal from her.

“Oh, m’dear y/n.” she smiled when you mentioned her son.

“He’s in the basement. I think they argued with Charlie. He ordered him to stay out of his sight today,” she explained with a pained expression.

“Why doesn’t he come out when Hoyt’s gone?” you asked curiously. Luda sighed again. “Hoyt locked him in there and took the key. Ya know darlin’, Hoyt doesn’t take no disrespect and ma boy Tommy was acting up. As much as I disapprove of this, my hands are tied. Charlie has the last word in this family. I couldn’t stop what they did to Monty, either.” She complained.

“What happened to Monty?” you asked despite having an idea.

“He got shot by a biker, and Charlie forced Thomas to treat him...” she made it sound so innocent, even though Monty was missing both of his legs. She really didn’t want to portray her son as evil. And you didn’t think of him that way either. You nodded while you ate the bread she gave you to let her know that you were paying attention.

After you finished the breakfast, well brunch, Luda Mae returned to take the empty plate and cup.

“Darlin’, I can tell that my boy Thomas likes your company. I only want the best for Tommy. He gave me this.” she took a small key out of her pocket. It was key to your freedom.

“But ya know I am just a weak old woman now, and I know Charlie would be furious if you escaped.” she was very unsure of her actions. You didn’t understand a thing. Luda uncuffed you, so you could use the bathroom and take a shower. You didn’t want to cause her trouble. If Hoyt could do what he did to Monty, you didn’t even want to imagine what fate awaited Luda if you ran away because of her.

“I know it must be borin’ to stay in that room all day alone, darlin’.” Luda Mae said as she washed the dishes in the kitchen. You were standing next to her, leaning on the wall.

“Would you mind helpin’ me around the house today?” Luda Mae looked at you and raised her eyebrow.

“Of course, anything.” You replied and smiled at her. How could you say no to her? And so you spent the day cleaning the house with Luda. Honestly, it was for your own good as well, because from the first time you arrived you’ve thought that the house is really filthy. However, you understood that Luda was already an older woman, and the house was huge, so it must’ve been hard for her to be the only one taking care of the household.

You were proud of yourself when you finished. Even Monty seemed to approve of your hard work.

“Good work, m’dear!” Luda cheerfully announced when she looked around the now clean living room. The feelings creeping on you this morning were gone, and you felt more like an actual human being rather than a piece of meat again. You weren’t cuffed, and you basically spent some family time with Luda and Monty. Your moment of happiness was abruptly interrupted by the sound of an arriving car. It was Hoyt, and when you looked closely out of the window, it seemed that he wasn’t alone. There were two guys and a girl with him in the car. Luda quickly pushed you up the stairs to make sure Hoyt doesn’t see you. You rushed to your room and looked out of the window. Apparently, Hoyt locked them in the car because he came to the porch alone. Luda opened the door and let him in. He didn’t even realize how clean the house was. He just went straight to the basement door to summon Thomas.

“Come on, Tommy, move yer ass and help me out here!” he shouted and then walked back to the car. You were still looking out of the window but concentrated on the noises coming from downstairs as well. Hoyt opened the door for the girl sitting in a passenger seat and let the guys out of the car too. They seemed okay, and Hoyt was actually polite? You didn’t understand the scene unfolding before your eyes. And then he saw you. One of the boys looked up, and he saw you staring at them from the window. But before he could do anything, Hoyt grabbed the girl and pointed a gun to her head. Both guys were visibly shocked. They genuinely believed he was a sheriff helping them until this point. Then you heard loud footsteps, and Thomas stormed out of the house with a chainsaw in his hand. The guys tried to run away, but Hoyt shot one of them to his calf. The other turned around to help his friend, but only a bullet to his shoulder awaited him. Thomas grabbed one of the wounded guys and threw him on his shoulder, and then he disappeared into the house. You figured he took him to the basement. Hoyt took the redhaired girl into the house too, and the guy who has been shot to his leg was crawling in pain away from the house. He was desperately slow. You heard screams of the girl and Hoyt’s footsteps as he struggled to bring her up the stairs to his room. You quietly went to the door and peeked out as you opened them. Hoyt didn’t notice as he was too busy with the girl who was screaming and kicking everywhere around herself. But she saw you.

“Help me! Please, you, help me!” she stared at you with despair in her eyes as she tried to get out of Hoyt’s grip. Your eyes widened, and you instinctively closed the door. You covered your ears in a futile attempt to prevent the girl’s voice from reaching you. You knew well what awaited her with Hoyt. Meanwhile, Thomas got the other guy who tried crawling again. And that was it, you couldn’t see anything else, and you could only think about what was happening in the house. The girl’s screams didn’t fade at all, and the revving of the chainsaw was piercing your ears as well. You wanted it to end finally, but then you heard a loud thump as the basement door burst open, and Luda’s voice echoed in the living room as she was screaming Thomas’s name.

“Tommy! Hoyt! Hoyt, come down!”

You opened the door again and stepped out of the room. The girl was still screaming, and Hoyt was nowhere to be seen. He probably didn’t hear Luda. You couldn’t hear Luda as well now. You braced yourself for the worst outcome as you ran down the stairs only to find Luda tied up to a chair with a rug in her mouth.

You gasped… what was happening? Then you saw him, the guy who has been shot in his shoulder standing in the kitchen with a bloodied knife, Thomas nowhere to be found.

a/n: Now what, you and another victim together in a kitchen... I am sorry for the cliff hanger, but the chapter would be too long, but I am in the mood for writing, so will post the next chapter tomorrow.

#Thomas Hewitt #thomas brown hewitt #thomas hewitt/you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x oc #leatherface #the texas chainsaw massacre #Texas Chainsaw Massacre #x reader #Slashers #slasher #horror slashers #slasher x reader #story #i made an attempt #roadtrip #horror

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justcourttee · 4 years

Note

So I know you've been very busy so just stay strong, I know you can do it! :) I was also wondering if I could request more sibling jasonette with the Joker going after Marinette once he finds out they're related? Take your time getting to this request if you need to, I know it'll be great when you get to it! Don't stress yourself out too much!

Thank you so much, I really do apologize for being so spotty the last month or so. I think I’m finally getting back to some sense of normal, so hopefully, I can write more :)

I hope you like it!

An Average Night in Gotham City

Marinette couldn’t believe her luck.

Being the holder of the ladybug miraculous, you would think that everything would go her way, but it seems that Tikki had a funny way of distributing that good luck.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

The rank smell of something souring surrounded her senses as she dangled from the ceiling by her wrists. She was certain that there would be some difficult bruises to hide later but that was the least of her concerns at the moment.

“What you have is a pissed off college student. Who snatches someone from a library? Don’t you have any respect for my education?”

Something sharp poked her back causing her to hiss in pain.

“Now, now, I really do love Gotham State University and if it was game day, I wouldn’t dare step foot on our campus, Gothamite pride and all. But you my dear, well once I learned that you attended the school, I just had to stop by and say hello.”

His maniacal laughter would strike fear in the hearts of most, but honestly, she was just too pissed at this point to care.

“Okay, you said your piece, may I return to the library? I have a paper due at midnight tonight and I literally only have one paragraph finished.”

Another strike against her back felt hard enough to draw blood. The Joker was not in a joking mood tonight.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, How rude of you to want to leave when you just arrived! You batbrats are all the same, always in a rush. That’s why Jason is my favorite little bird. He always makes time for me,” his dreamy sigh faded into a scowl and in one quick movement, he was face to face with Marinette, his hand forcing her to stare into his eyes, “At least he used to. With you in town, he never seeks me out anymore!”

Releasing her cheeks, he turned away in a mock sob, using the edge of his purple tie to wipe away his tears.

“Maybe it’s because you two have an abusive relationship. I mean who wants to seek out someone that beats the shit out of them all the time.”

Joker stroked his chin thoughtfully as if her words carried some weight to them.

“Perhaps you’re right, maybe my last beating didn’t express enough love and admiration. How do you beat him to show him you love him?”

With a snap of his fingers, one of his men rushed forward to place a stool in front of him. Plopping down, he crossed his legs, motioning for her to speak.

“Uhm, well, I don’t beat him. Being my brother and all, we fight on the occasion, but if I want him to know I love him, I bake his favorite sweets or surprise him with a visit to his work.”

“Ah ha! That’s what I have to do! I got too reliant on my good old friend seeking me out, but maybe every once in a while I should seek him out!”

“Wait, that’s not really-” She couldn't finish her sentence as a crackle of electricity echoed through the warehouse. Her breathing was labored as she slowly began to come to terms with her situation.

“You know little batbug, you are slowly becoming a second favorite of mine. Of course, none of you could ever replace Batsy himself, but I would be lying to myself if I wasn’t fond of you and my Jason.”

If this was how he treated his favorites, Marinette was terrified to think of what Tim or Damian would go through if they were in her place right now. As he continued his monologue of the highs and lows of his and Jason's great relationship, Marinette took the time to take stock of her options.

There were ten men in total, more than likely at least five more outside posting guard. Fifteen wouldn’t be too hard, but there was one wildcard she couldn’t account for. Joker hardly ever accepted a fight that he wouldn’t believe to be fun and if she was honest, she couldn’t figure if he would jump in or not.

Tikki had already been working at the ropes holding her wrists, it was mere moments before they snapped, the only thing that stood in her way was that clown.

“-anywho, I suppose it’s time to go pay Jason a visit. Boys, leave this one alive. I like her.”

There was a slight groan of annoyance that sprinkled throughout the room.

Now was her time. The minute Joker stepped foot outside of the warehouse, she would be able to escape with almost no effort. As the doors slid open, Marinette nodded to Tikki to chew through the last rope.

“Where is she?” A frantic voice spilled through the front door causing Marinette’s eyes to snap into focus.

Several guns were trained on Jason as he gripped the front of Joker’s suit, his fist curled and ready to strike.

He came for her.

It wasn’t that she had any doubt, but she figured that her emergency tracker hadn’t sounded after seeing the response time from the team. As she dropped softly to her feet, Marinette slammed her elbow into the nearest man’s neck, gripping his gun as he dropped to the ground.

A few guns shifted from Jason to Marinette, seemingly unsure who was the bigger danger at this point.

“Oh Jason, I knew you cared. Marinette said I might have to seek you out, but that’s just not true is it. You always find your way back to me.”

His laughter was infuriating and Marinette could tell Jason was seeing red. If she didn’t get them out of there in the next few minutes, there was no telling if she could stop him from murdering the clown in front of him.

“You stupid clown, I could care less if you attack me, but you leave her out of this you understand?”

The Joker shook his head, a small giggle escaping his lips as he waved his men to stand down.

“Leave her out of this? Oh Jason, batbug there has become one of my new favorites. But don’t you worry, you’re still number one in my book.”

Marinette felt a shiver throughout her body at the sound of the growl that emitted from Jason.

“Jason, let's just leave. This isn’t a fight for today.”

There was no response as he and the Joker remained locked in an invisible argument, neither budging at the sound of her voice. Taking a step closer, she kept her gun trained on the clown, her eyes scanning the other men for any sudden movements. Instead of fighting her, they parted to allow her to get closer, all of them feeling equally confused as her.

Lowering her gun for a brief moment, she reached out to place a gentle hand on Jason’s shoulder.

“Jason, not today.”

She felt the tension in his body melting under her touch as he loosened his grip in the Joker’s suit. With one last glance, Jason dropped the man to the floor, turning to pull Marinette into a tight hug.

“Your stupid tracker needs an update. Tim could only place it near this area and it took me entirely too long to get here.”

Marinette winced under his tight grip, the realization of her wounds finally hitting her. Pulling back, she nodded to Jason as they both moved to walk out the door.

The sound of several guns switching off safeties echoed, causing them both to stop in their tracks.

“Joker, let us go.”

Her eyes met his as he lifted himself from the floor, brushing off the imaginary dust he had acquired. There was a certain glint in those eyes that screamed danger to her. They both shared a mutual understanding that he knew far too much and that he could attack whenever he wanted. This advantage seemed to please him as he nodded, motioning for his men to stand down once more.

“Batbug is right, this would be no fun if the two of you were dead. So many interesting possibilities for the future, it’s so exhilarating.”

The sound of his laughter stayed with her even after they were blocks away from the warehouse.

“Batman was right behind me, I’m sure he’ll get there before they have time to clear out.”

Marinette nodded absentmindedly as Jason pulled them into the nearest ally. As gently as possible, he lifted the back of her shirt to exam the wounds. Letting out a low whistle, he began to patch them one by one, the stinging of antiseptic cutting just as deeply as the wounds had.

“Mari, what were you doing before that clown kidnapped you? It doesn’t look you struggled much, there only seems to be torture wounds.”

Marinette’s eyes widened as she suddenly remembered.

“Jason, we have to get back to the library! My paper is due at midnight! That idiot snapped me while I was writing, I only have one paragraph done and I don’t even know if it saved.”

Jason struggled to bite back the laughter that was fighting to escape.

“You know Marinette, this is what you get for waiting to the last minute. Don’t you know by now that there is a fair chance of getting kidnapped while you’re trying to do school work?”

Marinette reached backward swinging blindly as Jason’s laughter finally bellowed through. As he pulled her shirt back down into position, Marinette turned to give him one last hug before she took off into the night.

Jason and Tikki shared a look. Together, they took off after her, giggling and calling after her as they raced through Gotham’s streets. All in all, it really was just another average night in Gotham City.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat

#jasonette #maribat #marinette dupain cheng

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marauders-venting · 3 years

Text

Spin The Bottle

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 1754

a/n: you can probably tell from this fic that I have not played spin the bottle once in my life.

also i put ‘---------’ in between paragraphs when the perspectives change just to make sure that’s clear

“Hey, you guys are early,” said Peter, checking his watch as Lily and Remus came into the portrait hole.

“Yeah well, we got bored,” Remus said. “Prefect rounds are fucking useless, honestly.”

“Exactly,” Lily said, dropping into an armchair. “If people who are out of bed after hours are dumb enough to be caught by prefects then it’s not even worth reporting them. So what are you guys doing?”

“Literally nothing and I am very bored,” Sirius said.

“He’s been complaining nonstop for the past hour and a half,” Marlene says, rolling her eyes.

“Let’s play a game, then,” Dorcas suggests.

“Hold on,” Sirius says. “Let me call James, he’ll want to play.” He pulled a mirror out of his pocket. “Prongs,” he said into the mirror, “you there?”

“Yeah, mate, what’s up?” James said, holding the mirror way too close to his face.

“We’re playing a game. You coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a second.” Within a minute, James was walking down the stairs of the boys’ dormitory.

“How was flying?” Sirius asked.

“Sirius! You just exposed me to our prefects!” James said, smirking. “Are you guys going to report me?” he added, to Lily and Remus, his smirk only growing as he ruffled his hair. Remus rolled his eyes.

“You know we wouldn’t,” he said.

“I would,” Lily said. “If I had the energy to go to McGonagall’s office right now.”

“Aw Evans, so sweet of you to spare me detention,” James says.

“It doesn’t make much of a difference, does it?” she said. “You probably already have detention this weekend and no doubt you’ll do something stupid tomorrow and get another detention for next weekend.”

“Ah, how well you know me.”

“So what game are we going to play?” Sirius asks.

“I have a game,” Lily says. “Spin the bottle but with a twist.”

“What do you mean?” asks Mary.

“Basically, you pick like a judge or whatever you want to call it and everybody else is blindfolded. The blindfolded people spin the bottle and you have to kiss whoever it lands on but neither one of you knows who you’re kissing. So like the judge taps you on the shoulder and like… leads you to the person you’re supposed to kiss so you’re right in front of each other and then you kiss and then you keep playing.”

“Can’t we just play regular spin-the-bottle?” Marlene asked. “Why do we have to make it so complicated?”

“Cause it’s more fun this way,” Lily said.

“Yeah, yeah let’s play this version,” James said, with a side glance at Lily. Lily narrowed her eyes at James, arms crossed.

“I want to be the judge,” she said. James sighed.

“Fine by me,” he said and everybody else nodded in agreement.

---------

Lily had a plan. She’d been trying to think of a good plan for ages with no result. But tonight when Alice asked what they should play, it came to her in a second. Lily had been trying to get Remus and Sirius together for the last half a year. And it would have worked too if they weren’t both so dumb. Soon enough, Lily had figured out that James was trying to do the exact same thing she was and they agreed to work together. (Lily liked to call it their first and last alliance; James liked to call it the start of something bigger. They didn’t argue over who was right, though, because their main focus here was Sirius and Remus). Lily wasn’t sure that James had quite picked up on her plan but it didn’t really matter. It’s not like he was a part of it.

So they all sat down in a circle, placed a bottle in the middle and put their blindfolds on. Lily stood outside the circle and waited as Sirius spun the bottle. He had insisted on going first which incidentally suited Lily’s purpose pretty well. The bottle did not land on Remus. It landed on Mary. But nobody needed to know that. Lily tapped on Sirius’ shoulder and tugged his arm upwards. He stood and she led him to stand outside the circle. Then she went to get Remus. She didn’t need to do this. They could have managed perfectly well just crawling into the middle of the circle like in regular spin-the-bottle. But Lily felt that in order for her plan to have a better chance at succeeding, it would be better if she separated Remus and Sirius from the group a bit. She led Remus to stand right in front of Sirius and then backed away, hoping this would work.

“Ok. Kiss,” she instructs when neither one of them moves.

---------

At Lily’s word, Remus reaches out a hand to try and find the person standing in front of him. His hand closes around a wrist, a sleeve, and his heart drops. His only thought is fuck. The sleeve is made of leather. And only one person here is wearing a leather jacket. Sirius.

---------

Sirius moves forward towards the person whose hand is around his wrist. He reaches a hand out in front of him to try and find a face but all he finds is a chest. He goes higher and higher until his hands are cupping the person's face. Holy shit, Sirius thinks, this person is so fucking tall. And suddenly Sirius realises who he’s about to kiss. It’s Remus. Only Remus is this tall.

Sirius had been half-hoping half dreading that the bottle would land on Remus. The chance was pretty small so he hadn’t really been expecting it. But now his heart was hammering in his chest so fast and hard that he was sure Remus could hear it. But his hands were cupping Remus' face now so he couldn’t not kiss him. He wanted had to. So Sirius leans in, standing on the tips of his toes, and kisses Remus. And a warmth Sirius had never experienced before spreads through his body as soon as his lips make contact with Remus’. Sirius is kissing Remus. He’s kissing Remus. I’m kissing Remus fucking Lupin. And Sirius doesn’t ever want it to end. And Remus isn’t pulling away. So neither does he. He just keeps kissing Remus, memorising everything about him. The way his lips feel, soft and tender against Sirius’; the way he tastes, like chocolate (no surprises there). Sirius just wants to freeze this moment.

---------

Remus doesn’t understand why Sirius isn’t pulling away. He doesn’t understand but he’s not complaining. Remus thinks of all the times he’s imagined his first kiss with Sirius in his head. What he would say, where they would be, Sirius’ reaction. Whatever he had been imagining, he definitely hadn’t thought that it would end up happening through a game of spin the bottle. But Sirius’ kiss feels exactly the way Remus had imagined Sirius would feel, all those times he was staring at Sirius(’s lips). And Sirius’ hands are on his cheeks, cupping his face. The touch is gentle but that doesn’t stop it from making Remus' pulse rate jump so high that he’s genuinely worried he might have a heart attack. But Remus doesn't care right now. He really could not care less. Because he’s in Sirius’ arms. And maybe it’s this delirious state of excitement and joy that makes Remus do it because he didn’t think he would’ve ever dared do what he did next if he wasn’t high on happiness. He puts his hands on Sirius’ waists and pulls him closer. Sirius’ body moves into his and his hands slide down on Remus’ neck so he brushes Remus’ jaw with his thumb. And then Remus does the worst thing he could have possibly done. He sighs into Sirius’ mouth. Fucking fantastic. Now you’ve gone and done it.

---------

When Sirius heard the sigh escape Remus’ mouth his heart skipped at least ten beats. Remus blushes so hard Sirius can feel the heat and colour rising to his cheeks. And suddenly, the question Sirius had refused to even consider for months pops into his brain. What if he likes me back? Sirius thinks of Remus putting his hands on Sirius’ waist, of how he pulled Sirius towards him, of how he’s still kissing Sirius. And then Sirius comes to a realisation. I think he likes me back. Holy fuck.

So in the split second that Remus’ lips part in that embarrassing sigh, Sirius makes a decision; he slips his tongue into Remus’ mouth and kisses him harder. He feels absolutely no objection. Remus’ body shivers against his and a noise like a small moan escapes his throat. And Sirius likes that. A lot.

---------

And as Remus and Sirius are locked in this embrace, hands all over each other, Lily is just watching and trying to stifle giggles. She walks over to James, taps his shoulder and whispers, “Take off your blindfold.” He does. And then his jaw drops. He looks over at Lily before pulling his blindfold firmly back over his eyes.

“Fuck, Evans, I don’t want to see that,” he whispers back. But he’s smirking. And he holds out a hand for Lily to high-five. So she does. Quietly. She keeps her eyes on James to give the lovebirds some privacy.

---------

When Remus and Sirius finally break apart, Remus tears off his blindfold and stares at Sirius breathlessly. Sirius does the same, his expression of awe is exactly the way Remus feels. Remus is struggling to comprehend the impossibility that Sirius might actually like him back. That he might want Remus in the way that Remus wants him. But Sirius had just spent several minutes (or at least that was how it felt) kissing Remus. So he must like Remus back.

Remus smiles and takes Sirius’ hand, raising his eyebrows at him in question. Sirius smiles back and nods. He links his fingers with Remus’ and Remus feels a spark shooting up his arm. And then he hears a giggle and turns to see Lily, smiling and giggling at them with this evil, knowing grin. Remus points a certain finger in her direction, at which she rolls her eyes, but he’s smiling at her. Because he knows that Lily planned this. Maybe the bottle Sirius spun didn’t even land on him. That would explain why Lily wanted everybody to be blindfolded.

Remus tugs on Sirius’ hand and jerks his head towards the portrait hole. Hand in hand, they walk outside the common room to make out talk things over.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #sirius black #sirius black fluff #moony #padfoot #wolfstar #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar oneshot #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders one shot

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honeypirate · 4 years

Text

Pancakes For Dinner part one

Part two

Aizawa x f!yn

Reader is a teacher and pro hero, works with and is the best friend of Aizawa. Goes away for two years to teach at an American hero school.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Aizawa was your coworker and your best friend. You came to work at UA together the same year and you trained together almost every day. You couldn’t believe how you were a higher pro hero than him, he was absolutely amazing and smart. You respected and cared for him with your entire being.

When you got the opportunity to go to America for a couple years to teach at an American hero school, he was the first one you told, and, god, the look of pride and adoration in his eyes almost made you cry.

“Of course you are going!” He’d say when you’d get anxious and unsure if you should accept. He would talk you out of all your anxiety and fears every day until he would take you to the airport, then he would text you a paragraph about how amazing you are and how much he believes in you, one that you would go back and reread every day that you were gone.

The first two months of teaching were great, you fit in well with the other teachers and roomed with one while you were here, you had amazing students who were so talented and sounded a lot like Aizawas class this semester.

You talked to him every single night, for the first whole year, relaying your entire days to each other. You’d FaceTime every Sunday. You fell in love with him without noticing.

On your one year anniversary of teaching there he told you about a girl he went on a date with and you were confused about the drop you felt in your heart. The way you felt actually jealous. You were going to be gone for another year PLUS you were just friends!

So then the next week you went out with the teacher who taught in the room across from yours, he was tall and strong with blonde hair and blue eyes, kind of reminded you of All Might... he was the exact opposite of your best friend. You asked him out after lunch one day, he was always flirting with you and talking to you and you honestly didn’t know why you didn’t ask him just sooner.

Your phone calls with Aizawa got less frequent when you both got into relationships. You talk every other Sunday now and you usually hung up when you heard her voice on the other side. Your favorite calls were ones where you didn’t talk about your love lives and the ones where you can hear how much he respects and cares for his kids through the phone “they’re all idiots” his gruff voice made you smile because you can picture his facial expression with that sentence and how his eyes would betray him. “That’s why you’re teaching them.” You say and he scoffs but you know him well enough, knew that he’d rather say nothing than lie.

Your relationship with blue eyes didn’t last long, when you found out he was cheating you dumped him. You were confused at how you didn’t really care, you got over it in a week and didn’t feel the need to tell Aizawa about it. You didn’t want to take up time he should be giving to his girl. You were more sad about Aizawa being in a relationship than the ending of yours.

A few more months go by and you only have four more months to go. They offered you a full position here but you can’t decide to take it or go back. You called Aizawa to get his opinion, even though you figured out what you’re going to do, you didn’t even bring it up with him.

After catching up on everything else you ask “So how’s what’s her face?” Trying to be polite about his relationship when you obviously didn’t like her. “I don’t know” he says and you sit up straighter on the couch, “why wouldn’t you know? You’re dating her” after a few seconds he sighs “I broke up with her a few weeks ago” you can’t help the way your heart explodes in happiness and the way your palms get sweaty “why?” Your voice was quiet. “I realized that she wasn’t the one for me and I didn’t want to string her along” you can’t say anything other than “huh”

After a little bit of a comfortable pause you quietly whisper “Hey Aizawa?” “Hmmm?” “I broke up with him a couple months ago. He was cheating on me” he sighs and says “oh. . . Y/n why didn’t you tell me?” You hug your knees to your chest and switch ears with your phone. “I didn’t want to worry you or take any time from your girlfriend” he laughs “you know that you’re more important to me than anyone. Y/n! Come on” his voice is so quiet when he says the next words that you almost miss it “That’s why I broke up with her”

“can I ask you something?” Your voice was quiet still, you didn’t know why you were asking you just felt like you needed to know. “Sure...” “how come you never asked me out in the beginning? That week after I met you I almost thought you liked me for a second” you laugh. Trying to sound nonchalant and just curious. “Don’t you see me as a brother?” His voice was gruff again and he sounded sad. You feel bad but you can’t help it as a laugh busts out of your lips. You stand up from your seat on your couch and throw your free arm in the air “what?! No!. What made you think that?.” There was a pause before he sighed and said “I heard you on the phone once with your sister. You were laughing and you said in a horrified voice how you only see him as a brother and anything more grossed you out” this time your laugh was out of pure shock “Shouta Aizawa! No! That conversation was about Zashi!”, your phoneless hand still in the air and you dramatically flung it about, you felt exasperated.

His laugh on the other end of the phone was nervous and embarrassed as he whispered “oh” you laugh again “Aizawa, I ..” “y/n, I ...” you start at the same time but your laugh is cut off by your roommate busting open the apartment door “Y/N! We have to go. The dorms are being attacked!” You stand up and start to throw your shoes on “I have to go. We will finish this conversation after we’re done and everyone’s safe.” “Y/n! Be careful. I know you’re strong. I believe in you!” His voice is so sincere it makes your skin tingle “Thank you. Talk to you soon” you end the call as you and your roommate run down the hill towards the dorms and the sound of screams.

“Y/h/n! A few of your kids call out when they see you, there are two of them being cornered by a villain. “Get these kids out of here!” you say to the teacher beside you “I’ll handle this one!” You took him down easily but he still got one good hit in splitting your left eyebrow and clouding your vision with blood. Damn eyebrows were always the worst to get cut because then never stopped bleeding it seemed. The fight was over quickly, petty villains just searching for five minutes of fame.

On the way to get stitches you buy a plane ticket and as you got stitched up you called him. when he answered you didn’t let him have any time in case you lost your nerve “Shouta! The kids are fine! I’ll be fine as well once the stitches are done” you awkward laugh, filled with the emotion you’re finally letting yourself feel and the adrenaline from your fight. “I’m coming home! I got a plane ticket. I have the next couple weeks off because of this attack and I need to see you. It’s been too long. And.. I .. I think that I should probably tell you this now, in case there is an accident and I never see you again. I think it’s time to be brave!” He laughs, sounds a little worried, “youre coming home? What’s going on?” Youre a little wild right now, you can’t stop but let it all out “I don't wanna say something wrong or be weird so if this comes out wrong let’s just forget about it. And if you're still in love with her then we will just pretend that I didn’t say anything. Two years away from you has felt like forever. I tried to find the right time to tell you but it never happened. I chickened out. Like the time I asked how was fall semester? I wanted to tell you how much I loved talking to you every single night. And that conversation we had about your favorite band? Spur of the moment because what I really wanted was to tell you how much I missed hugging you.” You take a breath and the guy stitching you up is finished so you hop off the table “thank you” you say to him with a quick smile, catching his chuckle at your craziness.

“Y/n take a breath and tell me what you’re trying so hard to tell me” he says calmly and you laugh before you take a deep breath as you quickly run out of the campus nurses office “okay. Here it goes. Ill tell you. Shouta. I’m gonna say it” He laughs “stop stalling” he says calmly causing you to laugh again as you get back to your apartment on the campus.

“I’m coming home for a couple weeks, if the plane happens to crash tonight and I never get to see you again I’d want you to know that I am in ..”

*beep beep beep* your phone signals that it died and you curse under your breath and plug it in as you hastily pack some stuff up in a backpack. You told your roommate that you’d be back in a few weeks and if anyone needed her to give them your number. You grab your phone to realize it wasn’t even plugged into the wall. You curse again and shove it into your pocket.

Your roommate sped you to the airport so you could be on first flight back home. You had your phone plugged into the car to charge and it turned on before you got there. When you were running through the airport the first person you called was Aizawa, you end up getting his voicemail and you couldn’t help but laugh. After the beep you say “I’m sorry. My phone died and I don’t have much time before I get on the plane” your heart was racing and you were breathless from running to the gate but excited and ready to tell him everything you felt about him “my phone is going to die again so I’ll be quick. I’ve been in love you with for as long as I can remember. I didn’t realize until I left you. My plane gets there in 13 hours if you feel the same pick me up. If you don’t then I’ll go back right away and we can pretend this never happened” you heard quiet beeps as your phone dies for a second time. “Shit” you say quietly to yourself and shove it into your pocket as you make it to your gate and show the attendant your ticket and boarding the plane. In a few short hours you’d be home and you would see if the man you loved was in love with you back.

On the plane you took a melatonin knowing your nerves would never allow you to sleep on your own, you plugged your phone in to the usb and after about two hours you passed out. You had a straight flight and would end up sleeping the whole way.

You wake up when the person next to you whips open the window to let the light hit you in the face. You thought that was ridiculously rude but you also decided to use the last few minutes of the flight to freshen up your makeup and use one of those tooth brush mint things.

When you land your hands start to sweat, your heart is racing, you’re kind of panicking but holding it together. Your phone bings with messages but you don’t check them. You’re afraid to check them in case you have a text that confirms your fears. You shove everything in your backpack and sit in your seat, waiting for the rest of the people in the front rows to exit the plane so you could get up and walk out.

Your hands are shaking and cold as you walked from the plane through the bridge to the airport on the other side. Your breathing is uneven and you can’t hear anything other than your heartbeat as your feet carry you forward, led by your heart in your hands. In less than ten steps you’ll know the truth.

#mha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha shouta aizawa #bnha aizawa #mha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa fanfiction #shouta aizawa x you #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #mr aizawa

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nonsensical-twistedriddles · 4 years

Note

Hey, what do you think would be the ideal type for each dorm leader?

hello hello ! this is a question for me, as in what i personally think? ( ˘•̥ _•̥ ˘ ) if so, these are all just guesses based on what i know about them (i hope that’s okay)! i wasn’t sure if you’d like to read lengthy paragraphs on what i thought so i tried to condense condensed my ideas as much as i could into two parts (physical appearance and character), each with their own bulleted list ❀ܓ(｡◠ ꇴ ◠｡ ) i hope you enjoy!

📝to note: some parts may have more or less information depending on the dorm leader. this is because i don’t think they’d mind much if a specific thing varied compared to the others (e.g. hair length, height,etc.). also i kept some of my ramblings in because i couldn’t bring myself to take them away (some of which were written in my language but translated into english). i promise i tried to shorten these

riddle rosehearts

Physical Appearance

He’d prefer someone shorter than him, though he wouldn’t mind anyone taller so long as it’s not to the point that he’d have to strain his neck just to look at them

There’s a common trait in my country that I tend to hear whenever people gush about the people they like which is “malinis” (means “clean” or “neat” or “tidy” depending on how it’s used in a sentence). I’d like to think that Riddle would want someone like this; someone who doesn’t look sloppy and is refreshing to look at (hair is neatly combed or groomed and isn’t covering their face, skin looks bright and healthy, clothes are always fixed and smoothed, etc.)

Character

He would like someone patient and a bit more laid back compared to him (though not necessarily lazy),

who isn’t afraid of voicing out their opinions (in a nonaggressive manner plz thank),

and is cheery enough to the point that their happiness is contagious.

He wouldn’t like anyone who constantly tries to cling onto him like a koala but he’d also like it if they relied on him from time to time especially if it’s in things he’s good at (babey wants to be there for you too)

asshole ashengrotto

Physical Appearance

He’d probably like someone shorter than him so that he can look at them properly and easily tell what their feeling (especially whenever they’re flustered)

and ngl just so that he can look down on them.

I’d like to think that he’d like someone as stylish as him too, or at least tries to dress decently. No way he’s going to be with someone who doesn’t even try to look respectable even when it’s only on the outside.

Character

I think he’d like someone reserved, not just because they’re able to control and discipline themselves, but because he’d be more interested to find out more about them.

Someone with good composure and who wouldn’t make irrational decisions or jump to conclusions,

confident, especially if because they like to think through and consider things and prepare

independent, so that he wouldn’t have to constantly worry over them (and because he’d rather have someone as equally capable as he is).

He wouldn’t like anyone who is constantly trying to win the favour of others or follows the majority(?)

kalim al-asim (asim kilig)

Physical Appearance

Honestly speaking? I don’t think he’d have a preference in terms of physical appearance. I can’t really see him saying that he’d like someone who “looks like this” or “looks like that”?

I could argue though that he’d like someone “fluffy” (cute, small and soft like a kitten) because it’d be fun to be around them, hug them, tease them and take care of them.

Character

“fluffy”

Definitely someone he can be himself around or is similar to him.

Someone who’s bubbly and sociable like him,

“a big bright ball of energy”

Someone who can handle his carelessness and recklessness and is willing to be responsible enough to contrast it when needed

vil schoenheit

Physical Appearance

He wouldn’t care much if they were shorter or taller than him so long as they’re pleasant enough to look at.

Like Riddle, he’d like someone who takes great care of themselves or is at least conscious of how they present themselves to others.

They wouldn’t have to be anyone as pretty as him (because no one can be as pretty as him) or pretty at all, just someone who keeps their skin clear, hair neat, follows a good skin care routine and has a nice figure (that they care enough to maintain).

Character

We all know that he doesn’t like lazy people so I think he’d like someone who’s hard working and responsible,

preferably someone who isn’t easily unsettled by stressful situations because the last thing he needs in a cowering bunny that can’t stand up for themselves.

He wouldn’t mind anyone headstrong, so long as they can respect the way Vil is without him having to constantly tell them off since I don’t think he’d like anyone irritating him with such things.

leona kingscholar

Physical Appearance

He would like someone who is easily to look at; basically not tall enough to the point that he’d be craning his neck or short enough that he’d have to drop his chin into his chest just to see you.

Preferably someone with short hair, so that when the time comes that he decides to nap with them, their hair isn’t all over his face trying to suffocate him or constrict his body like an anaconda (I don’t know I wrote this at 1AM)

More of a personal opinion thing but I think he’d like someone with a refreshing smile.

Character

Essentially, someone who can mother him (kitty needs mothering) or is reliable.

He’d certainly want someone with a little bite; someone who can make a stand or stand their ground, especially if it’s with him. If all a person did was constantly agree with him, he’d get annoyed and have no fun at all.

idia shroud

Physical Appearance

As long as they’re not too overwhelming to look at, I think they’d be okay.

With that being said, I think he’d prefer someone shorter so their height doesn’t get to him too much.

He couldn’t care less if they were always in big baggy clothing, to be honest that type of fashion sense speaks to him.

If all else fails, he’d have to talk to them everyday through a screen to avoid getting too nervous around them.

Character

I think he’d like anyone who’s optimistic and supportive but not to the point that their light blinds him too much.

Just a person that doesn’t pry too much with his decisions and can stay the way they are without getting influenced too much by him.

He would like someone who has the same sense of humor or at least someone he can relate to in jokes.

malleus draconia

Physical Appearance

(Since he’s too tall for anyone to be taller than him) He’d want someone that he doesn’t have to struggle with talking to in terms of height.

I don’t think he’d like anyone who dresses sloppily, so he would want someone that looks respectable.

Character

Hehe someone INVITINGヽ(*´∀`)ﾉﾟ

He would like someone who’s appealing to him. Similar to Azul, he’d want someone who he’ll want to know more about (though they don’t need to be reserved).

Someone with a strong sense of self and, in turn, can be someone he can be around with without having to pick up after them.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar #idia shroud #malleus draconia #soriwrites

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bakibakini · 4 years

Text

reasons why i’m a bad boyfriend | t . oikawa ( haikyuu )

pairing : tooru oikawa x f!reader

genre : fluffy crack

taglist : comment to be added ! c : ( specifiy if you’d like to be thrown into some haikyuu general taglist or just oikawa , i dummy heehee )

notes : my first post here is oikawa & it’s ironic cuz i wanna highkey punch him . n e ways i hope u all like this ! < 3 pls leave feedback if u want ! also kinda vaguely mentioning reader is a girl at the very last paragraph so if any bois wanna enjoy this i’m sure it’s possible aaa -- i promis i usually write it gender neutral

You didn’t care much for Oikawa Tooru. Sure, he was a famous setter, known as the Great King, even, but as someone who hardly cared for volleyball, you just didn’t see the appeal. It’s not just that, you were in the same class as him since the first year, so seeing him nearly every day in class just gave him that tinge of ordinarity that you supposed his fangirls never saw. He was just a guy and, honestly, you couldn’t care less. Apart from your friend Hajime’s occasional complaints and a few volleyball games you were forced to attend, you didn’t see or hear much of Tooru. Fortunately, or unfortunately, actually, you couldn’t decide, that changed in the middle of the second year. Hajime approached you one day, took your hands in his and, with the most determined face you’ve ever seen, asked you to tutor Oikawa Tooru.

“Please, I can’t stand him anymore,” you vaguely recalled him say. “You’re the top of our class when it comes to English anyways, please help him fix his failing grade. If he’s too much, you can stop, but could you try?”

Hajime looked tired and his eyes were almost pleading, and, being your righteous self, of course you couldn’t deny his request. So, you nodded, asking him to introduce you to Tooru in order to figure something out. It was fairly easy, because you soon found that the talented setter was very easy to talk to; he wasn’t awkward and more-so on the charismatic side, which made your work a lot easier. He was willing to study, too, your little study dates were never bothersome for you. Eventually, the small talks during your study date breaks turned into a small bond and the time you shared outside of studying together became more frequent. You could go as far as saying you became friends and much to your disbelief, there was a voice in the back of your head that kept telling you how nice it would feel if you were enveloped in his embrace. You tried to drown that out, blaming your weird thoughts on how strong his arms looked. He was your friend, it was odd to think of him in such a light, after all.

Currently, though, you were alone at his house, trying to teach him the most basic vocabulary. It seemed to be oddly difficult this particular day, as he was distracted for some reason. You weren’t any better, really, it was hard to concentrate when you were alone at Tooru’s, your heart couldn’t help but speed up, but through you blaming it on his popularity, you managed to dismiss it and keep yourself in check. He, on the other hand, was driving you insane with how bothersome he was being, that you just couldn’t help but push yourself away from his desk and stand up, an exasperated sigh leaving your mouth.

“I’m going to get myself a glass of water.” You said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “You’re being super annoying, so get it together while I’m downstairs, yeah, Kawa-chan?”

Unbeknownst to you, he could hardly contain his blush whenever you called him by that silly nickname you thought of, even if you’ve already called him that a million times by now. Saying the nickname out loud made you a little bit flustered lately, too, but it was the norm for you, so you kept it up. Luckily for you, you were able to scurry away downstairs for your glass of water. Hands moved up to your cheeks in order to demolish the incoming red as you approached the kitchen. You didn’t want to admit that you probably had a thing for him, but your body was working against you. Perhaps you took a minute too long to drink your glass of water, the dread of the concept of ever liking Oikawa Tooru that creeped into your bones preventing you from anticipating coming back to his room. He was known to be a flirt, a popular lady’s man, the last thing you needed was to get a crush on someone like him.

“Jeez, calm down, you’re just study friends.” You muttered to yourself, making your way back to Tooru’s room so he wouldn’t think you died on his kitchen floor with how long you were taking. “Besides, Iwaizumi is leagues better…”

The house was relatively quiet with you two studying alone, so you were naturally a bit befuddled once you heard talking coming from Tooru’s room. There was no one else here, so at first you thought he might’ve picked up a call, but the closer you got, the clearer the words became and the more you wanted to bash your skull into the nearest wall.

“Wait, wait, wait, stop scrolling! Here’s some reasons why I’m a bad boyfriend.” You could make out Tooru saying and your entire body screamed for you to run in there and kick him for focusing on what you presumed was Tik Tok, of all things, rather than willingly studying. You wondered if making this one damn Tik Tok was what was on his mind all this time and it made you even more frustrated.

“Reason number one, my lips are kind of too big, so, um, you might drown when I kiss you.” He chuckled as you cringed. Peeking through the door proved that he was, indeed, in the middle of creating a Tik Tok. He sat cross-legged on the floor, phone in hand and camera pointed at his huge mirror that you could only assume was used for admiring himself and boosting his ego in order to pretend he totally didn’t have the flattest ass in all of Seijoh.

Tooru was cute, you could admit, and he was charming, and very skilled when it came to volleyball, but, god, he was perhaps the stupidest boy you’ve ever met. You physically couldn’t listen to this anymore.

“Reason number two-”

“Oikawa Tooru!” You shouted, stomping into the room, successfully stopping his Tik Tok and making him yelp in surprise. “The only reason you’d be a bad boyfriend is because you have absolutely nothing in that stupid head of yours, so get back to studying! Jeez, who even says stuff like that in front of a camera?”

Groaning disappointedly, he stood up and sat back down, pouting like a child who has just been told to stop playing and go to bed. You could only shake your head at his antics, sitting down next to him and looking over the work you still had to do. With how slow you were working earlier, it wasn’t a surprise that there were still many tasks to do and it agitated you. You considered time spent with Tooru mostly fun, but too much of him wasn’t good for you. Mentally, most of all, because you could feel your own brain melting sometimes with the things he said and the tone he used, but he also had some sort of effect on your heart that you loathed. He didn’t have to do much to make it speed up; was that one of his talents, or were you just completely useless?

“Seriously, were you expecting to find a girlfriend over Tik Tok?” Shaking your head, you picked your pen up, ready to do more work. “That’s low, even for you.”

“You’re breaking my heart y/n-chan!” He whined, throwing his elbows onto the desk and leaning his face on the palms of his hands. “Are you jealous I’m not trying to get together with you, hm?”

Ready to deny his claims completely, you turned to face him, only to see him slowly inching closer to you. You nearly let out a strangled yelp at this sudden development and closeness, choosing to recline further in your chair in retaliation, and instead of stopping, he persisted. While your head became blank, his began flooding with thoughts, especially after noticing the faintest shade of red coming onto your slightly puffed out cheeks. As Tooru blinked, he couldn’t help but think; were you really jealous? In fact, did you like him?

He enjoyed that concept, though he probably wouldn’t admit it out loud.

And although you weren’t jealous of the maidens who’d swoon over him on Tik Tok and angry he just wouldn’t focus on his studies, him leaning in like a total weirdo made your guts churn. It was sweet, but so sickeningly sweet that you hated it. You wanted to go back to studying, but with how nothing in your brain worked, all you could do was move your hand to the desk as he stared intently at you, your fingertips brushing against a notebook that you aimed to grab.

I don’t like you, Shittykawa!

Whacking the top of his head with the notebook you grabbed proved useful, as he instantly backed away with an ‘ow!’, clutching his head in his hands and pouting. You felt a bit bad, but at least your heart had calmed down the second he wasn’t all in your face. Eyes moved to give Tooru a small glance and could clearly see the exasperation his squinted eyes and pouty lips expressed.

A sigh escaped your mouth and your brows furrowed. “Are you ready to get back to studying now, dummy? Stop acting like you have no common sense! You’ll fail your class!”

It was true that you picked up the exasperation in his features, but as you got back to forcefully explaining vocabulary and grammar rules, you missed the mischievous grin making way to his face. He was more than sure now that you liked him to some extent. Whether you knew it yourself or not, the way your cheeks heated up and your body stilled in embarrassment gave it away.

Tooru opted to stare at you and visualize you on a date with him, instead of focusing on the English you so desperately tried to teach him. If he failed his class, then so be it! He was just glad he could stare at your focused face for a second longer.

You might’ve interrupted the making of his Tik Tok today, but he swore you’d make it up to him by helping him make a cute girlfriend check some time.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tōru #oikawa x reader #oikawa imagine #oikawa scenarios #oikawa fic #oikawa toru x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #fluff #aoba johsai #seijoh #x reader

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dragon-kazansky · 4 years

Text

A rose in shadows - Chapter seven

Chapter 7 - The game is on

When you had bid John and Mary goodbye and watched them go their own way to change and catch their train for their honeymoon, you headed back to the flat with Mrs. Hudson and Gladstone. You smiled as Mrs. Hudson left to make you a cup of tea. You took Gladstone upstairs, promising to take good care of him until John and Mary returned. You let him off his leash and followed him into the flat.

With the wedding over, you changed into something more simple and comfortable for the rest of the evening. You sat down in Sherlock's armchair by the window and reached for your little notebook. Inside were little notes and paragraphs of your days in Baker Street. John kept his own journal of adventures with Sherlock, so you were inspired to write your own, though not quite as in depth as John's.

Gladstone made himself comfortable by your feet. You smiled at him and began to write down about the wedding. Mrs. Hudson brought up your tea and placed it on the table beside you. You thanked her and watched her leave you alone once more.

When you were done writing, and your cup was empty, you most have dozed off, for you were woken by light shaking at your shoulders.

"Y/N, my dear, we don't have time to waste."

You blinked your eyes open and took a moment to gather your thoughts. Sherlock was crouched over you, a hand resting on your arm and a smile on his face.

"Sherlock? You're back! I'm sorry, I must have been more tired than I thought."

"No need to apologise, but we must hurry. What time is Watson's train leaving?" He got up and hurried across the room, taking off his suit from the wedding. You got up quickly.

"Uh, I think it leaves in about an hour, give or take." You watched him rush about the apartment. "Sherlock? What's happening? What's going on?"

Sherlock stops. His back his facing you and he's gripping something in his hand. You approach him quietly and come to stand in front of him. Sherlock turns to face you, his eyes seemingly lost. You gaze down at his hand as he holds out to you. You reach out slowly and take the handkerchief from him. You feel a chill run down your spine as you turn it over and see the initials on it.... and the blood stain.

"Oh... Sherlock.... Is she...?"

Sherlock covers the handkerchief with his hand and looks you in the eye. He uses his other hand to make you look up at him.

"I have to protect you and John."

"Sherlock-"

"The game has begun. I cannot afford to lose."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and waste no time wrapping your arms around Sherlock, pulling him for a hug. It had been a long time since you had last done this with him. He missed your warmth, not that he would ever admit to that. His arms wrapped around you and he pulled you close to him, savouring the moment.

Really, there wasn't time for this, but he couldn't let this moment slip him by.

"Come on, we better get ready." You say quietly in his ear.

"Right, get changed. We have a train to catch."

You pull away from him and nod, hurrying to change clothes. Sherlock needed you and you were not about to let him down. Especially where John was concerned.

You changed into a pair of grey trousers, a blouse, a jacket to match the trousers and put on a hat. There was no doubt with Sherlock that there would be running involved. Just as you finished adding the final touches, you turned around and came to a stop.

"What are you wearing?"

In front of you stood the detective in a dress, less elegant than anything you had ever seen, a wig and bonnet on his head, and blue eye shadow heavily caked over his eyelids.

"A disguise."

You blinked slowly.

"Right... I mean, no one will recognise you, but dear lord..." You shake your head. "Those colours aren't very flattering on you."

"No? I thought I looked rather dashing."

"Clearly there is something wrong with your mirror."

"Are you ready?" He asks, letting none of your comments get to him.

"Yes. Am I going first, or am I to be seen walking alongside you?"

Sherlock came over to your side and reached for your hand, bringing it his lips and kissing it.

"I always want to be seen walking with you."

"Yeah, but I don't mean dressed like that." You chuckle. "Come on, he train will leave the station soon."

John and Mary boarded the train on platform 7. Their arms were linked and they both smiling and chatting to one another. It had been a wonderful day and quite possibly more than either one could have asked for.

"Which coach are we?" Mary asks, as they walk alongside the train.

"We should be just here." John uses his cane to point up ahead.

Mary gives a little gasp. "Ooh!" They have come to a stop outside a first class carriage. John was giving her only the best. "First class." Mary steps onto the train.

John looks further down the platform to see men in uniform loading the train with cases.

Mary pops her head out of the door and smiles at her husband.

"Hurry up, Dr. Watson, your wife needs you."

"Coming, Mrs. Watson."

He climbs onto the train. Their carriage is very nice. Mary picks up a bottle that has been left for them.

"Ooh, first class, champagne. You do know how to spoil a girl, Mr. Watson." She grins at him.

"You're not just any girl." He tells her as he passes her to look out into the aisle. He takes a look in both directions, watching as one man stops a lady from entering the lavatory. Seeing nothing of interest, he returns to his wife, sliding the door shut behind him. "You're Mrs. Watson." He looks at the bottle in her hand. "Give me that bottle."

She hands it over.

You sit in the carriage Sherlock had managed to book for you both. The door slides open and Sherlock enters.

"Well?"

"They are two rooms over." He smiles at you.

"And non the wiser right now. Are you sure he's coming after Watson?" You ask, your voice dropping.

"Yes, certain. Concerned?"

"Very."

You both look at each other. You smile softly.

"I trust you, Sherlock. You know I do."

"But you haven't forgiven me."

"What do you mean?"

"You're still not wearing your ring." He gestures to your hand. You sigh as you shake your head.

"Sherlock..."

"Y/N."

"Just.... forget about it." You turn your gaze away from him and move over slightly, putting space between you both. You don't like how hung up he about that silly little ring. He can't honestly expect you to be over his behaviour the last few months. You decide to sit on the opposite seat and look outside. All the while you can feel his gaze on you.

The train travels for quite some time. The hour grows late.

You don't speak to Sherlock unless you deem it necessary, updates on anything he might think is wrong.

Meanwhile, Mary and John were enjoying themselves in their compartment. Mary was sitting across the good doctor's lap, both of them busy kissing one another. The exact opposite of what was going on with you and Sherlock.

"John, there is nowhere else in the world I would rather be." Mary says, all her emotions coming out in that one sentence.

"There's no one I'd rather be with." He tells her.

"Why do you have a gun stuffed down the back of your trousers?" Mary holds the gun up and looks at it.

"Old habits." John chuckles.

They are interrupted by a knock on the door. Mary slides from John's lap and leans into his side.

"Come in."

A man wearing the uniform for the train stands in the doorway holding a bottle of champagne. He holds it out to them. Mary smiles.

"Oh, yes, please."

"We didn't order that." John says.

"With out compliments, Sir." The man nods.

"Thank you. Put it there." John gestures across from them.

The man enters the compartment and closes the door behind him. Just as the door slides shut, the lights flicker out. The man pulls out a small knife and lunges at John. Mary gasps. As John grabs the man's wrist, Mary stands up and leans against the door. John and the man fight, John avoiding the knife, he man swinging at him. Watson manages to pin the man to the seat.

Still holding the gun, Mary holds it up at the man.

"Open the door, John." She tells him.

John opens the door leading outside.

"I think it's time for you to leave." She says, looking down at the man.

John pulls the man up and with one swift motion, pushes the man out of the train.

"Sit down." John says to Mary. He takes the gun from her. She appears to be in a bit of shock as she catches her breath. John signals for her to be quiet as he moves over to the door. He pulls it open and leans against the frame, looking out. There is nothing to his left, but as he looks right he spots the lady from earlier leave her compartment and then turn and quickly elbow the solider coming down the aisle. John ducks back into the compartment as the "lady" grabs the gun from the solider and shoot down the train where others have gathered.

Sherlock clears the soldiers at both ends and turns around to come face to face with John.

You stick your head into the aisle and come out once you see it's safe. You hurry over to Sherlock's side.

"I agree it's not my best disguise." Sherlock says to John.

You furrow your gaze at him. "Funny, you thought it suited you earlier."

Sherlock enters the compartment, John holding him by the shoulder. You stand in the door looking at them.

"My God." Mary looks at Sherlock.

"They'll be back." Sherlock says, holding out the fun to John. He gestures for you to come inside, so you slide in next to him. You give John and Mary an awkward smile.

"Oh. John, shut the door." Mary sighs.

"They'll only shoot through it, my love."

"He's right, you know."

"Oh, my God." Sherlock helps Mary sit down. You take the seat opposite them.

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"Terribly inconvenient." Sherlock stands. "We don't have much time." He leans out of the train, looking ahead. In a moment the train would reach the bridge.

"How many are expecting?" John asks, keeping his eyes on the aisle.

"Half a dozen."

"Who are they?"

"A wedding present from Moriarty." Sherlock stand back up in the compartment and looks at Mary. "Lovely ceremony, by the way. Many a tear shed in joy."

"Oh, John?" Mary calls for her husband.

"Yeah, just a minute, darling." He shoots his gun.

"Do you trust me?" Sherlock asks, holding Mary up.

"No."

"Well, then I shall have to... do something about that."

You watch as Sherlock pushes Mary from the train. She screams all the way down until she hits the river. Sherlock removes the hat and looks at you as John yells at the soldiers.

"Nicely done." You mutter.

"Do you wish to join her?"

"No."

He gives you a quick grin before looking up at John.

"John, do shut the door." Sherlock orders.

John closes the door and turns around. He takes great notice that someone is missing.

"It had to be done." Sherlock says, raising his hands.

John hurries to the open door and looks out, realising what Sherlock had done. You wait with baited breath.

"She's safe now." Sherlock states.

John turns sharply and stares at Holmes with a cold look.

"In my own defence, I timed it perfectly."

John grabs Sherlock around the neck and pulls him down to pin him onto the floor.

"Did you kill my wife?" John yells, holding Sherlock by the scruff of his neck. "Did you just kill my new wife?"

"Of course not!" Sherlock yells.

John punches him.

"What do you mean?" He grabs Sherlock's face and makes him look at him. "How do you know that when you just threw her off a train?"

"I told you, I timed it perfectly!"

"What does that mean?!" John tears away Sherlock's shirt. You watch silently as the wrestle on the floor. Sherlock has a leg over John's shoulder.

"Calm down."

"EXPLAIN!"

"By the time I've explained we'd both be dead!"

The door slides open and a rifle cocks as a soldier leans into the room. The barrel is pointed directly at John. You take the next moment to slide from the seat and get down on the floor beside the boys.

What John doesn't know, but you spotted because Sherlock had told you what he did, was that the rifle has a thin tube of lipstick jammed into it, well the lid of the lipstick. When given the chance, he got to work. When the conductor told him the lavatory was closed, he slipped past him and unlocked the door when the conductor left. He could see the soldiers through a small peep hole. He used what was available to him in that small toilet to black out the electricity on the train, just as another passed by, make a distraction with a flammable powder to urge a coughing fit onto the soldiers, and coat them in the flammable powder, and replace a bullet with his tube of lipstick. He kept the bullet for himself. Sherlock knew exactly what he was doing.

The man fires the rifle, the bullet slides down the barrel only to reach the tube of lipstick in the end. This causes the gun to backfire and the men to go up in flames.

Sherlock pushes John off of him and sits up.

"That was no accident." Sherlock lifts up his skirt. "That was by design." He grabs the chain from toilet and jams it into the carrier above your head and then through the door handle.

You take Sherlock's hand as he helps you up off the floor. You can't help but glance down as his bare chest.

"Now... do you need me to elaborate..." He pulls off the skirt, "or can we just crack on?" He asks John.

Sherlock turns to the open door and climbs out, shuffling along the side of the train. You glance at John before you follow Sherlock out, following his lead. John climbs out after you, not left with much choice.

"Don't worry, old boy, she's as safe as house." Sherlock yells out. "She's with my brother."

"I'M ON MY HONEYMOON!" John yells back. "WHY DID YOU LEAD THEM HERE?! WHY DID YOU INVOLVE US?"

"They aren't here for him!" You shout at John. "They're here for you."

"Fortunately...." Sherlock leans back enough to see the open door you had all emerged from. A soldier is sticking his head out. John turns to see him. The man raises his gun to shoot, but just like before the whole room is up in flames and the man is blasted out from the train.

For a moment you lose your footing as the train shakes, but you feel and arm pulling you back up. You turn to see Sherlock holding onto the train with one hand, the other holding you up.

"So am I." Sherlock yells at John, but he's looking at you. "Now mind the door!" Sherlock pulls the nearest door open and climbs inside. You climb around the door and follow him.

"Good evening." He addresses the people he had just disturbed. He opens the door to the train aisle and holds up a gun. "I think you'll find that second class is more comfortable." He tells the couple. "The coast is clear." He gestures to the door after checking the aisle. "To the South, quick march!" He claps his hands and speaks loudly, scaring them out of the carriage.

John finally climbs into the train, closing the door behind him, while Sherlock closes the other.

By the time John has turned around to face you both, he finds Sherlock laying on the floor, you sprawled across him. He has one arm around you keeping you close to his bare chest. You're not sure where to look.

"Lie down with us, Watson."

"Why?" John groans.

"I insist." With his free arm, Sherlock pulls John down onto the floor.

You have to move your head a bit as Sherlock pulls out his pipe and lights it. This causes you to press against him a bit more. You can tell Sherlock had done this on purpose, he was enjoying this.

"What are we doing down here?" John asks, looking over at the pair of you.

"We are waiting. I am smoking." Once the pipe is lit, he wraps his arm back round you again. You have very little option but to succumb to resting your head on him and looking towards John awkwardly.

A beat of silence passes.

Then all at once gun fire explodes through the train. You close your eyes as the wood of the wall splinters into the air. Sherlock's arm squeezes around you as he pulls you into him, shielding you from the debris. John turns over to hide his own face, as Sherlock does the same, only leaving enough room for him to continue smoking.

"Patiently waiting."

"For what?" John asks, yelling over the noise.

Sherlock holds up a gun to John.

"Your window of opportunity."

The gunfire stops. Sherlock's little swap earlier on in the evening had paid off. The lipstick had been caught within the gun, stopping it. Knowing this was his opportunity, John sat up. He looked through the hole in the wall where he could see the soldiers at the far end. He raised his gun and held it up, just as the soldier lined up perfectly, he shot. When his friend had fixed the gun, John ducked down. They started firing again.

"I said make it count!" Sherlock had rolled over to the point where you were between both men. He was still protecting you from the debris falling above. "How many windows must I provide?"

In the next moment there was an explosion.

What you didn't see was when John shot the solider, he had pulled the pin from a grenade. The grenade fell into the sack beside the soldier, which was full to the brim of grenades. Therefore, tragedy on their end.

The explosion had caused half the train to disconnect.

When it had grown quiet, you all got up off the floor. Sherlock had led you all the last carriage, which was torn in two. You sighed and sat down, looking out at the tracks. Sherlock grabbed a coat that he passed earlier, forgotten by it's original owner. He draped it around our shoulders. You smiled softly at the warmth.

John sat a little ahead of you, staring out. He had every right to be angry with Sherlock.

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of his life.

"Who'd have known that honeymooning in Brighton was such a dangerous notion?" Sherlock said, sitting down beside you, now dressed to and extent.

"Is that what this is about?"

"By your own admission, you've never enjoyed it there."

"I've never been to Brighton!" John says loudly.

"Or you're just too fragile to remember it at present."

"Shut up, Sherlock." You say, done with their bickering.

"Tell me my wife is safe." John demands.

"I can't do both." Sherlock says, looking between you and John. You roll your eyes and sigh. Now he's just being childish. "I promise, as I said, I timed it perfectly."

Mary was pushed while the train crossed the bridge, her landing being a river. Sherlock had told you that Mycroft would be on a boat, approaching the bridge at that time. She would be safe with him.

"Why were Mary and I targeted at all?" John asked.

"Excellent question. The answer is twofold."

"He's after us because of you."

"I'm afraid you must bear half the responsibility." Sherlock claimed.

"Here it comes." John uttered.

"Had you and Mary..."

"So predictable."

"...not been so hell-bent on your wedding, we could've already solved this case."

"There it is. Oh, it's my fault now."

"All I'm saying is the argument could be made..."

"No, it couldn't."

"...That your nuptials were rather poorly timed. Thus, our relationship..."

"Relationship?"

"Very well, partnership... has not yet run its course." Sherlock had gone over to stand next to John.

You had fought the urge to yell at the, to tell them to grow up and shut up, but you couldn't stop the smile from appearing on your face at the end.

"My dear fellow, if you could be bothered to see this through to the end... I shall never again ask you to assist me." Sherlock said.

Silence fell between the boys. You watched curiously.

"Once more unto the breach." John held up a finger, a warning to Sherlock.

"That's the spirit." Sherlock glanced back at you and you smiled, shaking your head lightly at him. Your detective got what he wanted. "Now, to the question. This is so deliciously complicated. You may be asking yourselves what does a criminal mastermind want with a simple gypsy fortune teller? It's her brother, I tell you."

"When we find him, and we must..."

"After you find my luggage." John points out. "Go on."

Sherlock turns.

"Wait!"

Sherlock turns back.

"Where is it we're going?" John asks. You look up to Sherlock, not knowing any more of the plan other than what took place on this train tonight.

"Paris... The most sensible honeymoon destination of all."

John smile.

You chuckle.

You get and move to sit next to John, who smiles as you join him.

"How are you holding up?" He asks.

"Alright."

"You're tagging along with Sherlock?"

"Yes."

"I was under the impression you weren't all that happy with him." John raises a brow in your direction.

"Water under the bridge." You shrug. "Sherlock is Sherlock, I need to get used to that." You glance behind you to see Sherlock was looking away. You pulled a chain from under your shirt and showed it to John.

"Ah yes, he mentioned a ring."

"I took it off because I was mad at him, but... I can't stay mad at him."

"But you don't want him to know you have it with you?"

"Oh God no, do you have any idea what that will do to his ego?" You ask, grinning.

You both laugh.

Sherlock looks up at the sound of your laughter. It was a wonderful sound, and one he hadn't heard in a while. He vowed there and then to himself that he was going to make it right.

He was going to make you happy again.

Tags:

@hufflepuff-pide-honey-badger @theatricalbride @phantomofhogwarts @awyr @fandombeehive @charmed-asylum @sigynbandraoi-blog @procrastinatingmurder @madshelily @photography-to-all @sitkafay @melancholicsthings @misspoisonouslove

#Sherlock Holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #a rose in shadows #chapter 7

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ranma-rewatch · 3 years

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Episode 21: This Ol' Gal's the Leader of the Amazon Tribe!

*checks watch* Oh, hey, it’s time for more Ranma 1/2! Hope things are going well for you, person reading this. I’m...fairly sure I know what’s coming? I just don’t really remember exactly how it happens. Will I like it? Will I not? We’ll have to see, next paragraph, after I’ve seen the episode again.

That was...not what I was expecting? This storyline is both moving much faster and much slower than I remember, if that makes any sense. How? Well, let me recap it a bit first.

The episode starts with someone flying into the city on birds. More specifically, a bunch of small birds supporting a larger bird who doesn’t seem to fly, and the person is riding on that bird. It’s weird. She arrives in a construction zone, an old woman with a walking stick taller than she is, and she says something about looking for her son-in-law. Actually, she says it a lot. A steel girder almost falls on her head, but she hits it with her stick in mid-air, shattering the metal into dust, before running off.

It cut from that to Ryoga attacking Ranma. Why? Well, Ryoga doesn’t really need a reason, but this time he does. Namely, the whole Ranma kissing Akane thing from the last episode. Of course, Ranma was in cat-mode at the time and doesn’t remember it at all, no matter how much Ryoga tells him it’s real. After Ryoga gets splashed with cold water, Ranma is then attacked by Sasuke and Kuno for the same reason, and combined with piglet-form Ryoga’s help, Ranma actually gets kinda beat up in the process.

Heading back to the home, he realizes that Akane’s probably mad if it is true, and we see her in the dojo, but she isn’t really working out the way she usually does when she’s mad. If anything, Akane seems conflicted. Ranma shows up to talk about it with her, and immediately apologizes. Akane asks if he remembers doing it, and he admits he doesn’t. Then, Akane wonders, did it not matter? Would Ranma have kissed anyone, and it just happened to be her?

Not understanding what is going on, Ranma stumbles over answering too long, until Akane starts actually getting riled up, calling him a flirt. That pisses Ranma off, so they get into an argument. There’s also a scene where their dads are playing shogi, and they wonder about that pink cat Shampoo sent them, especially since it’s unlikely she knew about Ranma’s fear of felines.

The answer to that comes as Ranma goes to take a nice, hot bath to clean off after the fights he’s had. The cat jumps in with him, and before he can freak out about his greatest fear being in the room, Shampoo emerges from the bath right where the cat had been, and she’s very naked. Yep, the cat was her that whole time!

In a case of Ultimate Bad Timing, Akane comes to take a bath herself and sees Ranma in the bath with a naked Shampoo. We cut directly from that to Ranma practicing what to tell Akane later. Namely, that he won’t apologize or back down, instead being firm on the fact that it wasn’t what it looked like and he did nothing wrong. And we wonder why Ranma has relationship problems.

Akane appears, and she seems fine...before knocking Ranma into a pond. Not long after the water changes him into his cursed form, the old lady from the beginning appears, and Ranma has a very hard time fighting her. She won’t explain who she is or why she’s fighting him, then disappears. That felt...a bit pointless, honestly.

Later, Shampoo comes by the house again, with food. It seems she has moved to Japan officially, and lives and works at a nearby ramen shop. As everyone’s eating the food, the old woman shows up again, taking a place at the table to eat. It’s revealed that she is Shampoo’s great-grandmother, named Cologne, and she’s there to make sure that Shampoo and Ranma get married. Soun fires back about the engagement Ranma already has to Akane, but Shampoo seems to think she has a good argument for why she should be the one to take Ranma’s hand.

She takes him into the bathroom and uses cold water to turn back into a cat, and it’s revealed exactly what happened. Heading back to China, she was shamed for failing to either kill or marry Ranma, and thus had to train with Cologne. They did that at Jusenkyo, for some reason, and Shampoo fell into the Spring of Drowned Cats. So, apparently the curse is Ranma’s fault, and thus he has to marry her. He rightfully points out that’s utter nonsense, but Cologne doesn’t care.

They fight for a bit, with Cologne showing off one of those moves where it looks like there are a bunch of her but only one is real. Ranma uses food and Cologne’s hunger to figure out the real one, but that doesn’t really matter. She’s a bit impressed by him, but still knows he’s far too inexperienced to ever really stand a chance against her. Then she hits him with her stick, and says something about how he’ll be begging to marry Shampoo in a few days.

Why is that? Well, it seems she did something quite diabolical. She apparently hit a pressure point that has caused Ranma to be incredibly sensitive to water. Even cold water feels boiling hot, but it still activates his curse. To turn back to his preferred form, he’d need to use hot water, but with how sensitive his skin is, hot water would be torture to endure. Thus, he can’t turn back into his uncursed state unless he does exactly what Cologne tells him.

Let me start with the stuff I like about this episode. First off, this is a really interesting way to build a story arc that’s very different from the ones that came before. All the story arcs in season one were pretty typical for anime. Each event led directly to the next, it all felt like single stories that just took multiple episodes to tell.

But if you didn’t know the last episode was part of a story arc, you wouldn’t guess that to be the case. It felt like a single-stand alone episode. And it kind of was. Only two things really carried over: Shampoo the Cat being mailed to them, and Ranma kissing Akane at the end of the episode. In fact, when I saw Ryoga and Ranma fighting, it took me a second to realize what they were talking about, because I didn’t think that event from last episode would be carried over.

I really like how it was done, though. The show made it pretty clear that Akane was feeling some feelings about the whole thing, but Ranma was too caught up in the idea that she’d just be plain angry about it to miss what she was really telling him. She wanted him to tell her that actually it did mean something that in his cat-state, he still sought her out and was affectionate towards her. She didn’t want it to be meaningless. That’s really cute, and the miscommunication there was less annoying than it sometimes is and more adorable. Free relationship tip: learning how to properly communicate to your partner is really important!

The concept of finally introducing a character who is actually a better fighter than Ranma is good. Cologne isn’t Ryoga or Shampoo or Kuno. He can’t just beat her in a cool fight, she’s far more experienced and skilled, something that from here will kind of drive the entire arc. The fact that Shampoo ended up with a cursed form that Ranma finds so terrifying is also interesting. She’s kind of scary to him anyway, this unrelenting force who won’t leave him alone no matter what he does, so making her cursed form that but to the tenth degree is pretty neat.

Last good thing: I really love how nonchalant Kasumi is with Shampoo. Like, to her it’s just like, “Oh, Shampoo! You’re back, that’s lovely, do you want to stay for a meal?” Either Kasumi doesn’t understand the complex romance plot going on, or she does and finds it not reason to stop being a good host.

What didn’t I care for? Well, like I said at the start, it feels like this arc is moving too fast and too slow at the same time. In one episode, this story resolves the Akane/Ranma kiss from last episode, the mystery of the pink cat, introduces a new focal player in the story, and curses Ranma with something he’ll have to fix. That’s a lot to happen, and I was really shocked the pressure point thing happened in this episode too.

But at the same time...I really found my interest waning in the back half of this episode. The Cologne fight just isn’t super gripping, to me anyway, especially when the technique she uses just feels very bland. There’s a good five or so minutes, about a quarter of the runtime of the episode, that I was just bored in.

I also like reintroducing Shampoo, only three episodes after she left, was a bit of a mistake, especially when she’s basically a main character from here on out. I know she was very popular, but even then giving the audience some time away from her let’s them miss her, if that makes any sense.

There was originally going to be a Cologne based Character Spotlight, but then I decided not to because we still haven’t seen a lot from her, and also I’m very tired and my birthday was Monday please stop bullying me

So, yeah, if you couldn’t tell I’m kind of meh on this episode. It’s not bad. It’s not great. I enjoyed the first half quite a bit, but the back half was a little more of a struggle. It was in fact a big enough dip that I’m putting this episode fourth from the bottom, just above the P-Chan introduction episode.

Episode 7: Enter Ryoga, the Eternal ‘Lost Boy’

Episode 12: A Woman's Love is War! The Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 15: Enter Shampoo, the Gung-Ho Girl! I Put My Life in Your Hands

Episode 9: True Confessions! A Girl's Hair is Her Life!

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around

Episode 19: Clash of the Delivery Girls! The Martial Arts Takeout Race

Episode 6: Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen, You Know

Episode 13: A Tear in a Girl-Delinquent's Eye? The End of the Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 17: I Love You, Ranma! Please Don’t Say Goodbye

Episode 20: You Really Do Hate Cats!

Episode 16: Shampoo's Revenge! The Shiatsu Technique That Steals Heart and Soul

Episode 8: School is a Battlefield! Ranma vs. Ryoga

Episode 11: Ranma Meets Love Head-On! Enter the Delinquent Juvenile Gymnast!

Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 5: Love Me to the Bone! The Compound Fracture of Akane's Heart

Episode 1: Here’s Ranma

Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

Episode 21: This Ol' Gal's the Leader of the Amazon Tribe!

Episode 10: P-P-P-Chan! He's Good For Nothin'

Episode 14: Pelvic Fortune-Telling? Ranma is the No. One Bride in Japan

Episode 18: I Am a Man! Ranma's Going Back to China!?

But hey, maybe things will be different next time? I’m actually pretty sure I’ll like it better, because now we’re really getting into the stuff I can remember. Namely, Ranma is going to be introduced to what will be his signature technique in “Behold! The 'Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire' Technique”. I’ll be there next week, and I hope you will too.

#episode 21 #This Ol' Gal's the Leader of the Amazon Tribe!#ranma 1/2 #ranma saotome #akane tendo #shampoo #cologne #anime analysis #anime rewatch

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booksbookandmorebooks · 3 years

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Emma in the night Book review.

Hello there my lovelies, I know its been a little while since I last posted and I have honestly missed doing this so much, so thank you to anyone still here and still supporting me, it means the absolute world.

As everyone is fully aware 2020 was an awful one but hopefully this year we can aim for a little more positivity and happiness, which is why im back today with a review of my first read of this year and bloody hell did I pick a goodun! So this is my first review for my first book of 2021, enjoy!

The writing style

One of my favourite things about this book was the different points of view you get to experience and how well they mesh together. For example, we are told very early on that the events Cass is recalling aren’t exactly what you would call accurate and that she has spent months planning and creating this false narrative in an order to manipulate the people she's describing them to (which in itself is something I always get drawn into, the mystery and the need to figure out the characters motives and intentions along side the biggest question of all WHY?! Which is a question will find yourself screaming at the pages) This is made very apparent from the use of the choppy and restrictive way that these scenes are written. Wendy also somehow manages to create a feeling of desperation and messiness whilst having the characters maintaining such a mellow and collected exterior, you know the calm before the storm! Which is such a jarring feeling but one that realty captured and immersed me. A feeling I don’t think is easy to convey through a book format. That in itself is a testament to Wendy’s talent as a writer.

When you compare Cass’ chapters and inner dialogue to detective Abby’s they are so different but when they are looked at side by side they create a very interesting contrast that as I said before works so well, while there is a calm chaos to Cass’ words there is in turn a very structured and balanced feel to Abby's, almost a little detached like you were reading sections cut directly from a police case file. Through this constant difference in characters POVS the story flowed flawlessly and at the perfect pace for a thriller book.

The climax of the book was not just shocking but also depicted so well in how the writing matched the pace of the reveal, the whole book alternates between cass and Abby with each chapter assigned to one of the characters but towards the end you see that the different POVs are whittled down to single sentences or just a few paragraphs that get shorter and shorter as the tension builds, creating this intense feeling of panic, alert and fear. A method that I swear had my heart physically racing at the end! It was like watching a classic cat and mouse scene play out in my hands/

I also have to mention that very last chapter. I'm sorry for waffling on but please bare with me. For a book based around secrets and deception the ending was that of a perfect one because of its ability to make you feel like after reading it you now share a secret with Cass and you are now part of this extremely messed up story and family, you have this understanding of her whole character and her motives which really brings everything full circle.

The character development:

The character development in this book is one of the best ive seen in awhile with each character being incredibly layered and yet undeniably flawed. Its done in such a human way that it doesn’t feel too far fetched like some thrillers ive read in recent years. Ensuring that all of the emotions tied in with said characters hit 10 times harder than that of those very basic 2 dimensional characters, even the worst people in this story have a difficult background or some type of abusive past, just a catalyst for their behaviours and characteristics and by gradually being informed of them you and being given the bigger picture you almost create an individual relationship and opinion on them ranging from hatred to pity. We get amazing development in every single one even the seemingly unimportant ones because even they are given enough backstory to still secure a connection of some kind with them, something I know we can all appreciate as readers.

The relationships.

The main relationship ill focus on is that of the sisters Cass and Emma. I know there are a lot of relationships in this book that over lap and intertwine in really interesting and sometimes awful ways but as these two characters are the basis of our main storyline it makes a little more sense to focus the attention on them

As a huge plot point throughout the story we see that due to the actions of their mother and her lack of genuine maternal instinct and well, love we see the girls in this constant battle of who can earn their mothers love trust and affections first. Which was so heart breaking to read, through their mothers constant manipulation and abuse we see them fighting the resentment and distance that they know is growing between them and sadly a lot of the time losing because of Mrs. Martins influence and involvement. Its very obvious when reading about their mother that her abuse is based around the fear she feels at the idea of any kind of alliance that the girls could potentially form with each other, god forbid they turn against her and out her as a bad mother! So she decides its easier to create a wedge between the two of them by openly favouring one over the other which unfortunately results in a lot of cruel actions from Emma direct at Cass, creating another toxic relationship and situation for the girls to live in. Although we do get the occasional glimpse at these really beautiful and raw moments of sisterhood and love they share deep down. After seeing so much pain in their story it made these moments just that little bit more special and down right beautiful which was a part that i especially adored.

The themes:

In its relatively short amount of pages this book manages to explore a huge variety of themes from love and obsession to betrayal abuse and manipulation, which lets be honest is everything you want in a good thriller book but usually when a writer takes on this many themes I always find some of them are either touched upon very quickly then dismissed and never revisited or thought of again or done so badly with such a lack of care that its obvious they were just included for the author to be able to say they've hit all the key themes a reader would expect a good thriller to hit. Yet Wendy manages to not only explore all of these and more, but manages to do it well and so subtly you don't notice until you sit back and think about them all which to me just shows a writers real talent.

The psychology:

Another huge part of this book and something I adored were the analysis parts of the book, the in-depth look into narcissism and its effects on the children it surrounds. We are constantly listening to Detective Abby explaining and exploring the characteristics of the people Cass is talking about in her chapters, exploring the connections and the risk factors associated with such a serious disorder as narcissistic personality disorder. I found this to give the story and writing some real merit, it felt like i was reading a psychology book and getting down to the real science of why characters work the way they do and giving the reader a chance to explore it themselves instead of just being told this person has this which is something I cant stand in books. Instead of investing time and effort into helping guide you to a conclusion or even showing you they just tell you this is how it is and expect that to be enough. So frustrating! None the less, this is something I haven't experienced in another book and a technique I hope to see more of!

Similar books:

When reading this I got very strong sharp objects vibes, the fractured relationship between families, focusing on mother and daughter, a highly manipulative mother, an obsession with public facades and the desperate need to keep up appearances and so much more! If you liked sharp objects you will love this, as Emma in the night has all of the important story beats and intrigue that sharp objects has but more intensity and a faster paced story something I felt was missing when I read SO’S.

Over all I adored this book, as you can probably tell and considering it is my first Wendy walker book I can safely say i have fallen in love! I can promise you now this will not be my last read from her collection. I was captivated by her story and her writing which is why i couldn’t recommend this more!

A very very easy 5/5.

so that's it, thanks for reading my review, i really hope you enjoyed it! sorry if I waffled at all its been awhile since ive written any reviews and am still getting my bearings with it again so please be patient with me. Hope you have a fab week my lovelies, Bye!

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darklingichor · 4 years

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Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

Buckle in kids, this one has my analytical muscles flexing!

I always said that I absorbed some of this epic through osmosis. GWTW is my mom's favorite book and one of her favorite movies. I remember wandering in and out of the living room at least once a year while she watched it. I would listen with half an ear as I played in the other room. A movie so long as to have an intermission just couldn't keep my attention as a kid. Of course I knew the story, just like I knew the story of a lot of fairy tales that I'd never actually had read to me. I didn't actually sit down and watch the movie in it's entirety until I was in my 20's. I liked it. It was well made, the acting was great and the story for all it's wince worthy moments and the surface polishing of such an ugly period in american history, was compelling.

I've never been able to get through the actual book. The reasons are going to sound a little silly. When I was younger, I thought : Why read it? I know the story. Tara is a plantation pre civil war, Scarlett lives at Tara, she's spoiled, she marries out of spite, gets widowed, Atlanta burns, she and her family become poor after the war, "As God is my witness, I shall never be hungry again" she works hard, almost loses Tara, she marries for money, saves Tara, works hard, is widowed again, marries again, rocky relationship, a child passes, "Frankly my dear, I don't give damn", end credits. In between she pines over a guy she can't have, and manages to be all around an unpleasant person in general. Done and done. I was probably too young to read it then anyway.

When I got older and realized that a book could be complex with horrible things in it. I thought I should read it. But, every copy of the book I seemed to find had tiny tiny print and no paragraph breaks (the later being a a typical writing characteristic in the past). Even with my glasses I have a hard time reading a book in that format. I skip lines, reread lines, I always end up,with a,pounding headache. No matter how good the story it's hard to get into when you can't physically read it. I had the same problem with Little Women. I eventually got through it but it was difficult.

Well, now there's audible. For once, I didn't have a book I was chomping at the bit to listen to and I thought: Why not? I listened to other books I couldn't get into for whatever reason. So, one credit and 48 hours (spread out over the last three weeks) later. I made it through.

Let me say, this novel is rich in language, as in it is well written and has much to analyze. But every time the n-word was said I flinched. Every time a black person was infatlized, or threatened, I felt angry, I was pissed off by the caricatures and happy slave narritive. Everything I have read about the author points to her evolving her views on black people after her novel, which is good. However, it doesn't make the characterization of black people any easier to read. There are racist things in the book, writing about a bunch of well to do people in the antebellum south, I'm not sure how an author could avoid it without Clorox-ing history, which honestly, she did enough of with her mythical view of the way enslaved people were treated and felt. It was a narrative I often heard in school, in the PNW, in the 90's.

The story went that depending on where someone fit into the hierarchy of slaves, some were well treated and loved. Because of this, when emancipation came, some slaves were afraid to be, or didn't want to be free. This of course served the purpose of making an awful period in US history seem softer than it was. "Sure it was bad, but it wasn't that bad."

As I studied more, this viewpoint was replaced with a "Nope, this was just bad, as in monumentally criminally bad."

I think Mitchell, when she wrote the book, thought she was being accurate, but considering she learned her history from veterens of The Confederacy, it is not surprising that she was wrong.

Because of the one dimensional way that black people were written, it's hard for me to really dig into the symbolism of their characters. I'm only marganially good at this, as you will soon see.

I will say this: I liked the book for many of the same reasons my mom gave me for loving it. For it's descriptions and it's style, for it's symbolism. I like it for it's depiction of a culture in flux, of the impact of war for those on the home front, of the all too human condition that one never sees one's self as the bad guy. I do not like it for the characters. Rhett is an asshole, Ashley has a lot in common with a wet towel, only less interesting. Melanie is okay but can at times, give one a toothache. Scarlett is a brat. The glorifying of a time when people owned other people is disturbing, full stop.

It was those parts that made me profoundly uncomfortable and I had to remind myself over and over that this was a novel about civil war Georgia and the rich people that inhabited it before, during, and directly after. This was how those people would think, talk and behave. It was wrong then, it's wrong now.

Now, I'm going to look at the symbolism in this book because I found it facinating.

Gone with the wind is far more complex than I thought when I was a kid or after I watched the movie. The collective consciousness holds Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara's romance to be the heart of the story... But it's not. Scarlett herself is the heart of the story. Honestly, Rhett driffs in and out when Scarlett needs either a dose of levity, a hard dose of truth, or a leg up on a hard fight. He doesn't rescue her, he helps her get the tools, and shows her the path to rescue herself.

Scarlett is an odd character. She has so many good points and bad points that she is nearly neutral. She's self-centered, but will fiercely care for and look after those she considers family, or as she calls them "my own". She will, on the surface ( for as the book says, it was all surface with her) resent every step taken, dollar spent, or moment given but she will keep doing it. She's opportunistic and ruthless with it, but she doesn't do it for the hell of it, she does it when backed into a corner. She's inpatient with her children, but her actions show that she loves them. She wants to do right by the social customs she was raised with and that the South cling to even after the war, but she's far too practical to pay them any more than lip service unless they fit her purposes.

Katie Scarlett O'Hara *is* rural Georgia. The colors that are always used to describe the land and Tara are red, green, black and white. In Scarlett we have described, red lips, green eyes ("without a hint of hazel"), white skin and black hair. She often wears these colors as well. Scarlett grows and changes along with Georgia and in fact, the reader is treated to the change of Georgia in a way that makes it more important than the changes of the characters. There are long stretches of discription of Georgia, especially Clayton County where Tara is. Long passages of the feelings of Georgia's people, before, during and after the war. Scarlett's life story from age 16 to age 28 are placed in between, and I have to think that the composition of the book was deliberate (I've never read any literary analysis GWTW, this is just me rambling).

Scarlett is told by her father, early in the book, that an Irishman's land is like his mother. Gerald O'Hara, an Irish immigrant, goes on to tell her that this kinship to the land is the same for anyone with a drop of Irish blood. In Scarlett, this goes further, for not only is the land her mother, she is,truly it's daughter.

Since she only swims in the shallow depths of her mind, she is unaware of her deeper waters. She does have them, she just pays no attention to what lives there. Weirdly, what lives there is what truly moves her. Early in the book the reader is told that although she didn't know it, she loved Tara, she was at peace there.

Nature is neutral,nature doesn't care about wars, politics or customs. At her core Scarlett doesn't care about these things either. Throughout the book the reader is told, that Scarlett doesn't care about anything that didn't directly affect her. This is true, and she is called out fairly often by other characters for being self-centered. However, her selfishness has a different feel than say, Bella Swan, Veruca Salt, or various other literary brats.

Scarlett feels less like one only,out to further her own interests and more like one who is trying to maintain her niche in her environment. For a living thing to thrive, their environment must support them. When an environment changes, the living thing either adapts or dies. Scarlett adapted.

Unable to convince Ashley Wilkes to break his engagement to Melanie Hamilton, being more obvious about her feelings for him than she thought, facing shame and questions to her reputation that would devastate her social standing and also possibly damage her family, she took swift action. She married Charles Hamilton, Melanie's brother. Why? It would shut up those who thought her in love with Ashley, thus saving her reputation. Plus, she figured it would hurt those she saw,as a threat to her. Like a river wearing a path around a tree, she avoided the obstical and continued on.

So if Scarlett is Georgia what about our other big characters?

Rhett is change, and time, like Scarlett he's nearly morally neutral.

Ashley is the past, he's the southern gentleman that the culture out grew.

Melanie a sheltering force. She reads as sweet and proper, but is always supporting Scarlett, even when her choices do not line up with the social system.

So, let's look at each of these characters in relation to our green-eyed force of nature.

I’m going to start with Ashley. Scarlett is fixated on him from the beginning. One can make many arguments as to why. He’s the only man not falling all over himself to get her attention, he very much represents the white knight to her, having “fallen in love” with him when he rode up to Tara after being away from Twelve Oaks, the reason as old as time, because she can’t have him, and her father says he’s not a good match for her. All of these are true, but to look at it from the symbolism angle:

Scarlett is Georgia,. The land and the plantation culture, she’s comfortable in her world at the start of the book. She doesn’t care at all about the war. It’s something that’s happening around her, something she is dreadfully bored by. Ashley represents that comfort, being with him means keeping things the same, staying the girl who only has to worry herself with parties, and being a plantation wife. Life would be slow and easy.

Time goes on, when everything goes wrong and Tara falls into poverty, Scarlett adapts. This girl who only a few years before married a man to save face, had never expected to work, now has to bust her tail trying to keep everyone fed. She wants Ashley, still, because she desperately wants to go back to that past, to where things were simple, to where hunger was not an issue.

The problem is that, Scarlett views Ashley through a haze of sentimentality, and Ashley is, himself, the embodiment of rose tinted nostalgia. He is not like Scarlett, longing for that time, but functioning in reality. He cannot exist outside of it; he’s not wishing for a time when all he had to do was talk books and philosophy with Melanie, he is of that time and he can do nothing when its gone.

Ashley Wilkes is an embroidered cloth of the antebellum south. He's the neat picture that faces outward, the pleasent part that the one weilding the needle wanted people to see. What is hidden is the web of threads criss-crossing each other, the nests of string, the knots and the things those messy parts tell of. The pricked fingers, the broken threads, the bent needles, stitches that were undone, tangles. The work and the pain that went into making that pretty picture look effortless. In short, he's what Scarlett and others at the start of the book thought of their culture and society. The work of the slaves was just simply there, what mattered was the result. Scarlett, like the society at large, had to let that go, face what it was. Not a shining example to return to, but an impractical relic of the past.

Rhett on the other hand sort of drifts in and out of the awareness of the main characters, He is always sort of there. He sees the writing on the wall, knows that many of the social conventions are on their way out and nudges Scarlett in the direction she wants to go in anyway.

After Charles dies, and Scarlett is in mourning, tradition dictating that she wear black, Rhett buys her a green hat and tells her he will take it away if she has it dyed.

When Tara is about to be lost, and Rhett refuses to give her money, Scarlett, without shame and with ruthless practicality, steals and marries her sister Suellen's suitor.

Why? Because she knew that Suellen would not have used any of the money she might have come into to save Tara.

Scarlett then takes over her new husband's business. She has a talent for it, and does well. Rhett encourages this unconventional behavior by lending her money to buy a sawmill which she runs.

This loan is interesting because it has a condition. He loans her the money as long as it isn't used to help Ashley.

This could be seen as an opportunity that would only really work if not given over to the conventions of the past. This plays out some what when it turns out that Ashley really sucks at doing... Well anything useful, really.

When Rhett and Scarlett eventually marry, he is proud to have a smart wife.

Rhett, as change, sees that Scarlett can and should break free from the social expectations that hem her in, when she does, she tends to do well. They are prosperous. What gets her in trouble is her constent looking back, pineing for Ashley, for the past that never was what it seemed, and the lost future that never would have been what she thought. Case in point, Scarlett and Rhett have Bonnie, who Rhett adores, Scarlett seems contented in her marriage. Then what happens? Ashley tells Scarlett that he is jealous of Rhett. And Scarlett promptly demands that she and Rhett sleep in separate rooms.

Later, we continue to go all soap opera when Scarlett and Ashley share an embrace and Ashley's sister, India, spreads a rumour of an affair. Melanie kicks her out of her house, but Rhett has heard. Enticements of the past impeding the progress to the future.

Rhett is near his breaking point with Scarlett and her focus on Ashley. He forces himself on her. Change trying to force itself on the culture through a vile and violent act. That is not a way to move forward, however.

Scarlett becomes pregnant, argues with a fed up Rhett, and falls down the stairs, losing the baby. Scarlett doesn't want anything to do with Rhett after this happens, understandably. A lot of change made in violence is resented and rejected. This leaves Rhett at a loss.

When Bonnie dies (it could be argued that she represents a new south, one that is not held back by convention, but is ultimately killed by the strong hold that those conventions had on the culture) Rhett is broken. And just when Scarlett is willing to embrace change, Rhett decides to leave, to find his own version of south that Ashley had been clinging to. This could be interpreted a couple of different ways. It could be seen as, that change is brought about by time and acceptence, and that the lack of the latter means that the former will not be effective and pass you by. Or, and this is the interpretation that I prefer, the fact that time, in regards to culture, repeats. Every generation has experienced this. You spend your youth laughing at the way things were done “back in the day” maybe even proclaiming that when you’re older, you won’t talk about “Kids these days…” but then one day you find that everything that was familiar to you has become outdated and you don’t understand, and therefore don’t like what is happening now and you find yourself wishing for the time when you were so sure and you understood everything. Ashley represents a past after a major upheavel, Rhett, is simply the march of time that every now and again will turn around and walk backwards to see where he’s been. Now, one could argue that Rhett is going to end up like Ashley, afterall, he’s looking for his past again. But I feel that Rhett is retreating into the past because of the trauma he experience in losing Bonnie and giving up on Scarlett. It’s a respite, rather than a permanate state of mind, like it is with Ashley. Ashley’s mind was always in the more idealized place, no matter the circumstsnce. It was the war that rattled his viewpoint of the world. Rhett is grounded in reality, he just wants to go home. Ashley is a rerun of an old tv show, Rhett is a nostaligia inspired reboot.

And Melanie. Ahh, Melly, silk wrapped iron, she is.

If this book has one "good guy" it's Melanie. If Ashley is pulling Scarlett (Georgia) back and Rhett is marching her forward, Melanie is a sheltering force, and Scarlett's counter point. Melanie has a streanth of her own and it is a perfect compainon to Scarlett's straightforward determination. While listening to this book, the phrase "speak softly and carry a big stick" kept coming to mind when it came to Melly. There are times that a soft spoken assurance, a politely worded insistence can be more powerful than anything else and Melanie shows that. The two prop each other up. When Scarlett kills the Yankee that invaded Tara, she helped bury the body. When Scarlett is demanding and short-tempered in regards to work being done around Tara during the lean times, Melly backs her up, but sweetens the tone. It takes a quiet fortitude to keep the peace in a way that still allows for getting things done and Melanie enables Scarlett to do just that. She knows the ins and outs of society rules and can weave her way through them with more ease than Scarlett. As such, she recognizes when Scarlett has to bend or break those rules to ensure the family's survival and knows just the right way to phrase it to give her sister in law enough wiggle room to keep her on society's good graces.

She Dances with Rhett for the cause even while in mourning? Melly insists she's doing it out of memory of Charlie. She does more than sit and home and be a widow? Melly points out that Scarlett is young and should be allowed some leeway.

Ashley's sister spreads a roumor about Scarlett and Ashley while the former is married to Rhett? Melly banishes her from the house.

When Melanie dies, Scarlett realizes how much she has meant to her and I would argue that it is her sisterhood and partnership with Melanie that is central to the story, rather than Scarlett's relationship with Rhett.

Each of these main characters are either rejected or leave just as Scarlett's deeper motives and thoughts float to the surface where she pays attention to them.

Melly dies when Scarlett is finally ready to stand on her own, because the social rules are being phased out, she doesn't need Melanie's gentle protection any more. With the phasing out of those rules, Ashley is outdated and unappealing and finally, Rhett and time move on, now that they have had their effect. And what is left standing is a changed Scarlett O'Hara in a changed world.

#book #books #gone with the wind #margaret mitchell #ramble #long post #thirty nine #Book blogging 2020

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zigtheeortega · 4 years

Text

day 24: loss | liam x mc (au)

title: disruption

pairing: liam x mc

@choicesfebruarychallenge | @bi-cookie ; @cxld-play

warnings: angst, smut, n*sfw, (18+)

word count: 5,764

song inspiration: if i ever feel better - phoenix

author’s note: first off, i’m not good at naming characters like at all, so elliott is just a placeholder bc i knew mc would look weird. second, i haven’t written an au choices fic yet, so i’m a lil nervous to post this! I’ve also never written liam before, much less smut for him, so i’m also nervous bc of that! this will probably be my only trr fic bc there are sooo many trr fics out there. lmao anyways, hope you enjoy this angsty smutty sad fic !

“We’re almost there, Elliott,” Bastien called to the backseat, startling her out of her sleep.

She rubbed her eyes and stretched, slipping her coat she’d been using as a blanket over her shoulders, zipping it up to her chin.

Lythikos had an intense frigidity to it, one that Elliott couldn’t forget. She only visited monthly for short periods of time, but the stinging sensation of the snow on her bare face never left her memory.

She checked her phone, her heart fluttering at the pseudonym that appeared on her phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey. I’m finishing up my last obligation, but I shouldn’t be longer than an hour.” His voice warmed her heart. It was the first time in weeks she’d heard it over the phone, not on television in a rehearsed speech.

“Okay. I brought some of my work with me if that’s alright with you. I’d love your feedback,” Elliott smiled to herself, treasuring her lover’s genuine interest in her new profession.

“Of course,” she could hear him beam through the phone. “I love you.”

“I love you too. See you soon.”

He hung up, and she sighed. Sneaking around was getting so tiresome, but she’d do anything and everything for Liam.

After Elliott and her friends couldn’t locate Tariq, the wedding went on as scheduled. It took her months of hiding out in Cordonia with her best friends to get herself together. Hana stayed by her side consistently, consoling her until she figured out a game plan.

She thought she’d be able to find a solution and live out her fairytale, but she was too late. She’d never be able to fully have Liam like she wanted, but Madeleine offered her a compromise to keep everyone happy.

She’d brought it up to Elliott before everything went to shit, and Elliott rejected it. She saw being a ‘mistress’ as an insult, because she knew she could find a way out of the mess she was in.

Months later, Madeleine, Liam, and Elliott ran a tight ship with friends to keep the affair under wraps.

Elliott could only meet with Liam once a month, under the guise that he had important monthly meetings to attend at Olivia’s home. They could only meet for a weekend at best, and a few hours at worst.

They rarely contacted each other between their meetings. It was depressing, but necessary to keep them a secret. Liam had a burner phone, and Elliott had to save his number under an undetectable moniker. When they spoke, it was short and sweet, and they couldn’t use each other’s real names.

She flew to Cordonia monthly, usually having to go to great lengths to disguise herself from the paparazzi.

It was emotionally draining and everything leading up to the rendezvous was stressful and tense, but all worth it when she saw Liam’s face light up when he first saw her.

Bastien pulled into the driveway behind the castle, easing up next to a side entrance that Elliott was all too familiar with – she knew Olivia would be waiting behind the large door.

She fixed her wig, pulling her beanie over the top of it, and hid her purple-rimmed eyes behind huge square sunglasses.

“Olivia informed me that you can go to the door. I’ll bring your bags in later. There aren’t any paparazzi in sight, so you’ll be safe,” he smiled at her through the rearview mirror, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Thank you so much, Bastien. I could never repay you for what you’re doing for Liam and I,” she replied gratefully, apology laced through the tone in her voice.

“Anything you need, I’m here. Don’t feel guilty. The only time he’s happy is when he sees you, and I’d never get in the way of that.”

Her heart swelled at the thought. She waved to him, stepping out into the blizzard.

The door cracked open, and Elliott spotted the fiery hair before her expression.

“Come in, come in,” Olivia frowned at her messy disguise. “That wig’s a mess, Elliott. If you’re gonna opt for a cheap, frizzy wig, at least hide a pocket knife in it.”

Elliott shrugged, grinning at Olivia’s annoyance. “Why should I do that when I have my best friend here to protect me?”

Olivia scowled, a hint of a smile on her lips. “You’re lucky I’m your ally.” She turned on her heel and stalked down the hallway, leaving Elliott scurrying to catch up.

Elliott had gotten pretty familiar with the underground tunnels of Lythikos over the past year. Olivia secretly renovated an unused area to make an apartment-like cluster of rooms, so that Elliott could stay safely in the tunnels with everything she needed, and she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.

It was an ingenious idea, and Elliott had no idea how to pay her back for her generosity. Honestly, Olivia probably did it to avoid controversy, like most every noble was doing. Elliott wasn’t sure if Olivia was doing it for the sake of Cordonia’s image or the sake of her friends’ sanity.

Olivia pulled out a skeleton key and unlocked the door, turning on the lights. “I added a more comfortable bed, some more decorations, and got Bastien to fully stock the fridge, so you can cook pretty much anything you want.”

She walked over to the living room area and pointed at the T.V. “I didn’t have to get a 60 inch flatscreen for you, but I know how much you love binging horror movies that I had to help scare you somehow.” She smirked, and pulled out a few drawers from the T.V. stand. “I ordered a hundred or so movies in case you get bored. I have no idea how long you’re gonna be here.”

Elliott shifted her weight, sighing. It was too painful to stay longer than a couple of days. “I was gonna leave on Sunday like I usually do –”

“How asinine. You’re taking a 9 hour flight on a Thursday night to get here by morning, and you take another 9 hour flight back on Sunday morning? You’re wearing yourself thin for no reason, Elliott,” she shook her head at Elliott, confusion lining her expression.

“Liam usually can’t spend more than 2 days at a time with me.”

“You have other friends in Cordonia, you know that right?” She narrowed her eyes at her, crossing her arms.

“After all that happened, I can’t show my face here. My reputation is tarnished, and even being seen here is a scandal waiting to happen. It gets riskier and riskier every time. I can’t risk any of my friend’s well-being for the sake of my secret relationship,” Elliott plopped onto the couch, defeated.

Remorse flashed through Olivia’s eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “None of this is your fault, Elliott. We know the truth.”

Elliott shook her head, a lump forming at the back of her throat. It didn’t matter that Justin and Adelaide were ousted as terrorists, and that Elliott’s friends were able to stop them from assassinating Liam and Madeleine.

Tariq was never found, and King Constantine was killed before he could clear her name. No one would believe Bastien, and Penelope was too afraid to publicly admit her wrongdoing, so Elliott didn’t have enough evidence to be exonerated.

“Sometimes… I wish everything were different. Maybe if we’d split up and searched on our own… or if I tried a little harder…” She struggled, her throat burning, a sign of tears to come. She didn’t want to talk about this situation any more than she had to, which was every time she visited.

Her new life was pretty much an escape from the events of the past year, but she was forced to face her past trauma head on every time she stepped foot on Cordonian soil.

“Elliott…” Olivia trailed off, and reached towards her, but dropped her hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I guess I’m still seething over the whole ordeal. I’m pretty defensive since I know we’re right but no one else knows that.” She sat down, leaning back onto the couch, crossing her legs. “You shouldn’t feel like you’re risking our social standing or anything. All of us know exactly what we’re risking to help you and Liam, and we’re okay with it. You’re our…” She whispered the last word and Elliott couldn’t quite hear her.

“I’m your what?”

“...friend.”

Elliott threw her arms around Olivia, relishing in the rare vulnerable moment. Olivia seldom showed her true feelings, but when she did, it was like watching a shooting star. It was beautiful, fleeting – a great memory nonetheless.

“Get off of me, you sap,” Olivia patted Elliott’s back with the tip of her fingers.

“Thank you for everything you’re doing. I seriously can’t thank you enough. If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you all, please tell me. I owe you a lifetime of favors.”

“Well, first, you can actually spend time with Hana, Drake, and Maxwell. They won’t shut up about you.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Deal. I never got to see Cordonia on my own time, so maybe you could give me a proper tour of Lythikos next time I’m here. You know, when I’m not banished to the cellar.” Elliott grinned.

Olivia laughed once, a delightful noise. “Sure, but you’ll need better snow gear. And take a self-defense class or two before you do so.”

Elliott quirked a brow at her friend, then shook her head. “I won’t even pretend to know what you have planned for me.”

Olivia stood up, and headed for the door. “You have no idea.” She opened it, and before leaving, she said, “Liam should be here soon. Let me know when he’s in the room so Bastien and I can keep watch.”

“Be careful, Liv.”

“Don’t call me that,” Olivia smirked, and closed the door.

----

Elliott spent the next hour working in her notebook, editing and rewriting paragraph after paragraph. An animated movie she’d seen a million times played in the background, prompting Elliott to hum along to her favorite song.

After another hour, she started to worry. She aimlessly flipped through the collection of DVD’s, not really paying attention to the titles.

Where’s Liam? She thought, an uneasy feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

After hour three, she read a little from a book she’d brought until her eyes started getting heavy.

She awoke to a sequence of 5 sharp raps on the door, followed by a pause, then 3 more.

Our secret knock, She thought. She shot up from the couch and ran to the door, happy tears already welling up on her bottom lids.

She fumbled with the lock, anticipation causing her to shakily rip open the door.

And there Liam stood, holding a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of champagne, and a neatly wrapped present. His perfectly tailored suit laid perfectly on his arms and torso, his muscles just barely concealed. He beamed, his eyes glistening as his eyes grazed over her face.

She grabbed him by the lapels, pulling him inside hastily. “Whoa,” he said, nearly losing balance.

Elliott blushed, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his face close to hers. She pressed her lips softly on his, a picture perfect moment she snapshotted and tucked away in her favorite memories.

All of the anxiety she felt traveling in disguise melted away the moment she touched Liam.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her lips.

“I missed you more,” she breathed, snuggling into his neck.

After a sweet moment, she pulled back, and snatched the champagne from his hands. “What’re we celebrating, love?”

He grinned, and locked the door behind him. “It’s a momentous day, Elliott. It’s been a year to the day since we first met.”

Elliott looked at him lovingly, hugging the bottle to her chest. “A whole year?”

He nodded, setting the flowers and present on the table, and gathered Elliott in his arms, hugging her to his chest tightly. “A whole year. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Elliott.”

He used a finger to tilt her chin to him, and he pressed a soft kiss on her bottom lip. “You’re everything to me.”

“I love you so much, Liam.” She giggled, shaking her head. “From waitress to mistress. Same suffix, different job title.”

His smile wavered, and he exhaled a long breath, obviously uncomfortable with the joke she’d told. “I wish you’d stop putting yourself down like that. Marriage is just a title. Madeleine and I are just business partners. You’re my soulmate, Elliott.”

She pulled back, fiddling with the top of the champagne. “I know. I just wish we didn’t have to be so secretive.”

He gently took the bottle from my hands and popped it open. “I’ve still got local historians and lawyers on my payroll, and they’ve been extensively researching Cordonian laws. I don’t know if they’ll find anything, but I’m determined to keep looking. I don’t want to lose hope.”

Elliott pressed her mouth into a line, then quirked it to the side, processing everything he’d said. “I want to be hopeful that we’ll get out of this eventually, but I’d rather just enjoy the time I have with you, baby. Stress free.”

He poured them two glasses of champagne, and handed one to her. “Of course. My apologies.”

They sat at the kitchen table, and Elliott picked up the flowers, taking a deep whiff of the bouquet. “You really outdid yourself this time, Liam.”

The cluster of sunflowers, lavender, and white roses contrasted beautifully, and smelled even better. “They reminded me of you, so I had to pick them up.”

“Along with a gift?” She lifted a brow, challenging him.

He sipped his champagne, trying to hide a smile. “I think you’ll like it. Open it.”

She ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a plain white box. She lifted the top off, revealing an assortment of toys on top of a lacy lingerie piece. Her cheeks heated, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I love it,” Elliott said, nibbling at the skin on her lip.

Liam eyed her lips, a playful look in his eye. “I thought we could try something new this weekend.”

The blush on her cheeks stayed, despite her eagerness to get in bed. “I like the sound of that.”

She gulped down the rest of her champagne and snatched the lacy piece, running to the bedroom.

“Hey!” Liam called, about to stand from the table.

“I’m trying on the lingerie! Stay where you are! It’s a surprise!” She yelled through the closed door.

Elliott emerged after a few minutes, peeking her head out of the door. “You ready?”

“Beyond ready, my love.”

She stepped out, and Liam’s breath hitched in his throat. She could plainly see him shift his legs, desperately trying to conceal his bulge.

“You look… stunning. Absolutely gorgeous, Elliott,” he said, his mouth agape, eyes hungrily roaming across her body.

The strappy lace piece fit like a bikini. The bottom was closer to a g-string than a thong, and the crotch was cut out, making it for easier access. The lace was sheer, barely covering her nipples and folds. She should’ve felt sexy, but was more out of place than anything.

“This is so corny, Liam. You bought me something that you’re just going to strip off of me, and I look absolutely ridiculous in it,” She said, crossing her legs to cover the lack of cloth around her opening.

He stood from his chair and crossed the room to touch her. He laced his fingers through her hair and draped his other hand across the small of her back. He tilted her head back, kissing her neck and nipping gently at her exposed skin.

“You’re right. I want to rip this off of you, but I can’t even begin to describe to you how arousing this outfit is. You never have to wear something that you’re not comfortable in, but I assure you it’s a pleasurable experience on my end,” he breathed into her ear, tightening his grip around her waist.

“Oh fuck,” She whispered, his bulge rubbing against her, causing her to gasp in repsonse. “Please, let’s talk later, and fuck now. I need you now, Liam.”

“Say no more, beautiful.” He swept her up and brought her to the bedroom, slamming the door behind them with his foot.

He dropped her onto the bed, and shimmied off his coat jacket, hanging it on the back of the wall.

“You’re so adorable, Liam. In the midst of a heated moment, you still have the mind to hang your coat up carefully so that it doesn’t crease before fucking my brains out,” she giggled.

Liam scrunched his nose up in confusion. “I can be reckless.” He threw his coat on the ground, but after a few seconds of eye contact with Elliott, where she could tell how absolutely tormented he was, he snatched it by the lapels.

Elliott howled with laughter as Liam hung it up carefully, brushing off the dirt.

“You always manage to be right, Elliott,” he softly smiled, unbuttoning his top buttons slowly. “But I don’t mind.” His arms flexed as he rolled his sleeves up. “As long as you don’t mind that I’m a little reckless in private, that’s all that matters.”

Her heart raced as he left the room and returned with the box of toys. Although she’d committed Liam’s body and their sexual encounters to memory, she still found herself enthralled with him like it was the first time they met.

He sat on the bed next to Elliott’s lace-clad body, and tucked a hair behind her ear. “Are you okay with me trying some of the toys out on you? I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable with it before trying anything.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yes.”

He pulled a small handheld vibrator out of the box, just small enough to fit on a finger. “First things first, I want to taste you.”

Her lower stomach clenched and ached as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, parting her legs. Before she could throw out a sexy quip, he had taken advantage of the crotchless design by plunging his tongue into her folds, stroking relentlessly.

She moaned and dug her hands into his hair, tugging at his dark strands. He in turn rumbled against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

“Liam, please,” she breathed, feeling his hand on her stomach, holding her bucking hips in place.

He knew exactly what she wanted; he always read her cues perfectly. He slid a finger into her, curling it the way Elliott loved. He moved his hand and tongue in unison, the similar paces bringing her close to the edge.

Just as she was about to release, he pulled away, slipping the vibrator on his fingers. “Is it alright if I try this out on you now?”

She nodded, her body eager for his touch. He massaged her clit slowly with his fingers, keeping in time with the laggard pace of his other fingers pumping in and out of her.

The strong vibration mixed with the pressure of his fingers sent Elliot into another world. Her eyes rolled back, and she focused on the image of Liam’s naked physique, his head between her legs…

Before she knew it, her legs were shaking. Liam kissed her softly, and reached into the box again, but she placed a hand on his wrist lightly. “We have all weekend to play with them. I need you in me now.”

His pupils dilated even further, and he nodded, standing up to slip off his clothes. Although she’d seen him bare numerous times, it never failed to amaze her that the man whose heart belonged to her was so breathtaking. His body looked as it was crafted by the gods themselves, chiseled to perfection, undoubtedly due to his strict fitness and diet regimen.

He grabbed a condom from the box of toys, but before he could tear it open, she stopped him. “Could we… go without one this time? I’m on birth control.”

She wanted so desperately to tell him the whole truth, but she decided she’d wait until the time was right. It would sound like an irrational decision to him, but she had thought it out nearly every day since she left Cordonia for the first time.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but… I’ll pull out. Just in case.” He looked unsure, but lowered himself onto the bed next to her anyways.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just thought,” she shook her head. “Nevermind.”

“No, please continue. Don’t ever feel like you can’t be honest with me, Elliott.” He touched her cheek softly.

“The only time we had sex without protection was our first time in the garden, remember?” She smiled softly, reminiscing.

“Of course I remember, my love. It’s one of my favorite times that we’ve been together.”

“Oh, so you’re ranking them now?” She smirked.

“Definitely not. Every time is special, but that one was even more special to me.”

“I was thinking we could kind of recreate the night.”

His eyes twinkled, full of love for the woman he could never fully give himself to. It was depressing, but Elliott pushed those thoughts behind her horniness and flipped on top of him.

“I love when you take charge, El,” he said, his voice verging on a growl.

“You’ve never used that nickname. What gives?” She tried joking, but his bare shaft pressed between her legs was distracting to say the least.

“I don’t know, I thought it was cute,” he shrugged. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“No, I love it,” she breathed, and began grinding her hips against his. His grip on her hips tightened, and she leaned forward, kissing him deeply.

He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip against her opening, teasing her. “You’re a tease.”

He pressed his hips upwards, entering her. Her body shuddered with pleasure as her walls adjusted to his size.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, as her hips moved lazily against his.

“It’s so weird hearing you curse, King Liam,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his neck.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. “I’ve never been aroused by a title before, but I have to say that ‘King Liam’ sounds delectable coming from your lips.”

He moved his hands to grip underneath her ass, lifting and lowering her the length of his shaft. She mewled in response, her legs tightening their grip around his middle. “I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you speed it up,” she purred.

He picked up the pace, deepening his thrusts. All of her worries of the future were a fading blip, her sole focus on pleasuring and being pleasured by Liam.

Before she knew it, he’d flipped her, raised her hips, and pounded into her from behind. “Oh,” she cried, her guttural moan muffled by the thick down pillow.

He sped up, his skin smacking against hers relentlessly, the sounds of ecstasy filling the room. She turned back to gaze at him through half lidded eyes, and was met with Liam’s sultry concentrating face. She’d seen it many times before, when discussing security issues with Bastien, but never in this context.

She felt herself getting wetter and wetter at the sight of him getting off inside of her. She was the one pleasuring him behind the scenes. She was the one exploring parts of him the public would never see, much less Madeleine. She got to see a side of Liam that not a single soul would ever experience. It gave Elliott a new sense of security, despite the harrowing situation they were in.

He reached into the box again and grabbed a handheld vibrator she hadn’t seen before. “I’m close, my love, and I want to make sure you’re there with me,” he panted, before switching it on.

He tried handing it to her, but instead, she guided his hand between her legs. “Oh fuck, El,” he cursed, sweat trickling down his clean shaven chest.

He leaned over her, keeping his fast pace, and placed the quivering toy between her folds. She arched her back in response, pushing herself further into the pillow.

The sensation of the vibrator mixed with getting fucked brought her to the edge quickly, and she released, her body convulsing beneath Liam’s. She shrieked his name, clutching the sheets. “Oh, Liam, fuck.”

He quickly followed her, his pace becoming more jerky as he came with her. “Fuck, I love you, Elliott,” he shouted. The deep commanding bass of his voice reverberated off the stone walls.

When they could finally move, Liam plopped next to her, spooning her while peppering soft kisses across her neck and shoulders.

She couldn’t have imagined herself anywhere else in that moment but Liam’s arms.

----

After they cleaned up, Elliott threw on a robe and flopped onto the couch, turning on the TV to browse through channels.

He sat next to her shortly after, clad with sweats and a plain t-shirt. “This might be a terrible time, but we need to discuss something rather difficult.”

“That phrasing definitely scares me, but go ahead,” she joked, turning the TV off.

“We’re being pressured to pursue producing an heir,” Liam shook his head, pain and regret dripping off of his every syllable.

“Wh… What?” She forced out. Her knees wobbled, the air knocked out of her lungs. She knew it was coming, but not this soon after the wedding.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his hands balled into fists at his side.

“Why? You just got married! I thought we’d have a couple years at least!” she said, her voice hiking up an octave.

“With Constantine passing away and the terrorist attacks, there’s still some uneasiness within the people and nobles. They’re not sure that we’re still stable as a country. It’s more for the benefit of our image than anything. Trust me, I’ve held off as long as I could.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Are you going to have to fuck her?” Elliott’s voice quivered, her breath unsteady. She didn’t know if she was ready for the answer.

His eyes widened. “No, Elliott, I would never. We don’t have feelings for each other like that. The public doesn’t need to know that we’re not having intercourse.”

Elliott’s chest loosened a bit, but she was still cautious as she waited for him to continue. “We’re either opting for adoption, or artificial insemination. There’s not a fertility issue with either of us, but we’re both not capable of sex with each other. It just can’t happen.” He held her gaze, pleading with her to understand.

“I–I can’t continue this if you’re going to have a child with her, Liam. I’d be a homewrecker. I can’t let you be that kind of dad to your kid,” Elliott shook her head, tears freely falling.

His jaw dropped, and he staggered back. “Elliott, my love, I–”

“I know you love me, and I know that I love you. I know that life is going to be so fucking hard without each other, but I can’t do this to your future kid,” she sobbed, sinking into the couch. “You and Madeleine may have consented to our relationship, but your child didn’t sign up for this. Imagine if they found out about us? He’d think so little of you. I can’t have that.”

Her shoulders shook, her breath heaving in and out of her lungs shakily. She was experiencing a loss like she’d never felt before. She could stay with the love of her life in order to satiate her desire to be with him, but at the expense of horrendous guilt, knowing she could possibly break a family up and warp Liam’s future child’s perception of him.

If they stayed together, and the public found out about them, he’d be painted as the bad guy, even though Madeleine encouraged the affair. She’d throw him to the wolves, and he’d be absolutely obliterated by the press.

There wasn’t a winning solution to this problem. They were going to have to do what was best for everyone else, instead of what they truly wanted.

“I’m so sorry, Liam, but I can’t do this. I love you, but I can’t do this anymore,” she repeated and the excruciating pain in her chest continued.

“Elliott, we can figure it out, I know we can–”

“We can’t, Liam! This is it! This is the last time you’re going to see me!” She shouted, her voice trembling and unstable.

“We can still be friends,” he said softly, kneeling next to her trembling form on the couch. “I still want you in my life no matter what, Elliott.”

Anger flashed through her disjointed train of thought. Before she could gather them together, she unleashed her momentary rage on him.

“You’re really that selfish, Liam? You’re that fucking selfish that you could want to maintain the picture perfect life and get everything you could ever want, while keeping me on a short leash? To be there for you emotionally, physically, sexually, but I get nothing in return?” She stood up, pushing an accusatory finger into his exposed chest.

“I have to work under a pen name because of everything that happened. You can’t even Google my government name without reading about how much of a whore I am. I risked my whole life and career to be with you, and you didn’t have the decency to publicly defend me. You just sided with everyone else except for the woman you supposedly ‘love’,” Elliott continued, pushing a tormented Liam closer and closer to the door.

“I have to fly back home when you’re done with me and leave all of my closest friends. This is my real home. I have people who love me and care for me here. I fell in love with Cordonia, its people, and you. But I’m pretty much a prisoner in a dungeon every time I come over,” she rolled her eyes, refusing to shut her mouth and let Liam speak. “All for sex. All for a quick fuck and less than 48 hours of your time before I’m shuttled off back to the cold, heartless city of New York.”

Liam opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Elliott suddenly cackled, cutting off any attempt of him speaking.

“I forgot to tell you that I landed a book deal with a huge publishing company in the city. They want a few novels out of me. They loved my first rough draft of my book so much that they offered me a multi-book deal,” she smiled, shaking her head.

“That’s incredible, baby–”

“I was excited to tell you and instead all I can think about is how by the time I get my first book printed and released, you’ll have a kid. A family,” Elliott walked away from Liam, and sat at the kitchen table, taking a long swig from the champagne bottle.

After a long moment of silence between them, Liam finally spoke. “I know it seems like the universe is fighting us tooth and nail. I know that this situation is the worst we could be in. But Elliott,” he sat down across from her and lifted her chin up with his finger, “You’re the only woman I’ll ever love, and I won’t give up on this unless you tell me to leave you alone.”

“You know I don’t want to tell you to leave me alone. That’s the last fucking thing I want to do, but that’s how it has to be. You’re being selfish right now, Liam. You’re allowed to be selfish sometimes. This whole situation was selfish, but I guess it was okay since Madeleine okay-ed it,” she took another deep drink from the bottle. “But your child is completely innocent. They don’t deserve to be caught up in your selfish decisions.”

He flinched, and his form deflated. “I think… you might be right, El.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes glistening. “I guess it was absurd to think this affair would last forever.”

She smiled sadly. “It was fun while it lasted.”

“I’ll always love you, El. I’ve always been truthful about that. You’re the only woman I’ll ever love.”

She leaned forward to cup his face in her palm. “I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, Liam.” She took another gulp of the alcohol. “I guess now that you’re confessing, I’ll have to confess, too.”

His brows furrowed as he waited for her to continue.

“I have an appointment with my OBGYN next week. I’ve always wanted one, but I’ve been seriously contemplating a hysterectomy for months now. Since you married Madeleine, really.”

“What? Why?” His eyes widened in surprise.

“I can’t see myself with children, but I can with you. You’re the only man I could ever picture having children with,” her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not a punishment to myself. I just know in my heart I’ll never want children again.”

His eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill. “I’m so sorry, Elliott.”

Her chin wobbled as the truth of the situation finally set in. She was no longer his, and he was no longer hers. The crown disrupted the fate of the lovers, and there was no amendment.

----

#choicesfebruarychallenge #trr #the royal romance #king liam #liam rhys #n*sfw #jade writes choices fics

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my-whumpy-little-heart · 4 years

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🍰☕🍼 :3c

Thank you so much for the ask Allen! I may have spent multiple hours writing all of this, but they were a very very happy few hours and I’m just happy you enabled that.

🍰- strawberry or vanilla?

Oooohhhhh this question. This. Question. Everyone always asks vanilla or chocolate and that’s so easy for me because I easily prefer vanilla more! But vanilla versus strawberry? That’s such a difficult debate!

On one hand, vanilla is the plainer of the two. That’s easy to dock it for, but it’s so classic! You can’t get vanilla flavoring wrong unless you really try to. I can go anywhere and ask for a vanilla milkshake, and I can be sure that sucker’s gonna taste like good ol’ vanilla.

But then, thinking about strawberry, it’s so much more flavorful! It’s distinct and fruity and sweet and even when toned down by being included in something such as ice cream or cake it’s still a lovely flavor. But then again, when you bake with strawberries they can make things really funky and not be all that great. The fault of that in store bought items is mostly them being artificial so the strawberry flavor can’t be properly replicated... but sometimes it’s super good!

If I were to make a definite decision, I’d have to go with strawberry and blame it solely on the fact that I’m thinking of some really tasty strawberry ice cream that this one place around us has. It’s got little frozen strawberries in it which provide an exquisite texture and pop of flavor in the duller flavor of the ice cream itself. It’s a lovely experience, especially paired with a scoop of cookies and cream (cookies and cream is the best ice cream flavor and you can’t fight me on that because I’m feeling too soft to threaten people right now)

☕- coffee or tea?

Ahaa, so sorry to report that I’ve gotta go with neither. The smell of coffee repulses me, and tea has never really struck my fancy.

Since I couldn’t provide a very good answer for that, I will instead that I’ve been listening to This Is Home by Cavetown and TrusT by half·alive repeating while answering these asks and am just now switching to Stranded Lullaby by Miracle Musical. If you need calming tunes, they’re all certified Chill~~ songs as dictated by the playlist I put them in.

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

buckle up. you opened the floodgates of I’m Really Feeling About This so soft puddle boa ahead, I’ve melted all over the floor and it may be slippery. crossing my fingers that i haven’t already mentioned this on here and forgotten about it because this is just one of my favorite memories ever and I’m going to get lost in it and gush about it.

OKAY. SO. LISTEN UP. I got very VERY happy about this coming segment. By that, I mean there nearly 3000 words ahead. So. Fair warning, It’s all super fun positive stuff and if you need a pick me up I hope I can do it for you but I’m gonna try and use a read more cut here. Really hoping Tumblr works with me on that.

This is a memory from last summer, just over a year ago now. A whole group of my extended family and us got together and we all took a vacation to Southeastern USA. One of the days down there we spent in Savannah, Georgia. First of all, it’s a beautiful city. Temperatures there are Very High, especially in the middle of summer, but it’s so scenic and I loved the whole aesthetic of the parts we walked around in as well as the history we learned about it.

During the day we took a walking food and drink tour (’drink’ for those of the proper age, not for me lol) and then spent a little while wandering on our own. We found through a newspaper that there was this cool little donut shop that had just opened its doors a few days prior and went to check it out. And it was the coolest little place! They’re called 8-Bit Donuts so look that up and scroll a little in google images if you wanna get a visual of their store, but it’s this cute, geeky little donut place! It was a fun discovery and we sat in there to have a few donuts before heading off to meet up with the rest of the family for what we’d scheduled for that evening.

We headed over to the Savannah Theater which, if I’m not mistaken, is one of the oldest still operating theaters in the country. It looked pretty unassuming from the outside, and even still when we stepped in. It had those nice old theater vibes but I still wasn’t completely informed on what we were doing there. My parents said something about a ‘variety show’ and this being something my great aunt was really looking forward to doing, so I was chill with it.

When we stepped in to the theater space itself, that’s when I was starting to go ‘oh, oh yeah okay i can vibe with this.’ It had so many cool old timey vibes and I just felt like I’d stepped into a different time period than my own. We had seats all across the back rows because I think it was more of a last minute decision and we wanted to sit our large group as close together as possible. So I got an aisle seat (aisle seat best seat and I stand by that) and chilled there for a bit while we waited for the show.

I feel inclined to preface this with, yes, I was in the height of my theatre phase that summer. And I was excited to see some live performance because I had been living on bootlegs for months. As I think about this I really want to talk about something else that I greatly admire and have lovely memories of, but I can’t get very in detail because unfortunately this is something closer to where I live. I’ll see if I can expand on it once i finish this explanation because I thought about it and I’m remembering some lovely things I’d forgotten,,,

Alrighty! did all that for an hour so now I am Back to talk about this. So, right, sitting in an aisle seat. So the show started and immediately I was entranced. They made an announcement beforehand encouraging audience participation and excitement. So I was like oh, this isn’t gonna be a very traditional theatre performance huh. And it wasn’t! Variety show basically meant they performed songs from a ‘variety’ of different shows and time periods, and some more from pop culture through the years too!

I think this was really mostly aimed at older folks, but oh my gosh let me tell you; I had the Time Of My LIFE that night.

I was so into everything they did, even when I didn’t know the songs because the theater was buzzing with their energy and enthusiasm and I just can’t describe to you the feeling of euphoria I got from watching that show. I never would have chosen it, yet here I was completely over the moon and throwing my hands in the air to the tune of Shout by The Isley Brothers (oh my gosh even now I just turned on and aaah if you need to ever lift your spirits please turn this on i’m dancing around in my chair i forgot how much i loooove this song aaaaaaah!!!!!!). Listen I know it sounds really stupid but I promise I was just having so much fun not worrying about what I was doing or how I was coming off but just being so joyously immersed in the show.

And right during that song, the performers had actually come off the stage and into the aisles. Walking down them, singing, dancing, all that. And one of them came down our aisle too. So let me back up and say that they all looked super Fancy and Cool and I was over here like starry eyed because dancing around with a three piece suit on is life goals okay I just think formalwear is awesome! That’s not an important detail but you needed it for the Imagery that you probably won’t get any more of because I’ve been typing this for literally three hours and I’m becoming incoherent. Not that that’s a bad thing because I am having Genuine, Unadulterated Fun.

Yes. So. Guy comes down our aisle, the slow part of the song comes on, and he extends his hand. Towards The Me. And I’m here like 👀??? Looking around and pointing to myself like “me??” and he nods and I’m like !!!!!!! because listen crowd participation is just the coolest shit. Whenever people are picked out of an audience for something during things like this I’m over here like “oooooh i wanna do that thing!” So!! For him to probably have recognized me in the back row just having a whole time and a half with their show and gone back like ‘okay, I recognize your enthusiasm and I think that’s great and invite you to join me in having fun’

I was just !!!!!! So I took his hand and keep in mind that I Cannot Dance. He led and Knew What He Was Doing which was good because I’m a fool but it was cool!!! I nearly fell over when I twirled!! I laughed and smiled and I could not care less about looking dumb and I really aspire to be that version of myself more often. I think those seconds are some of the Purest Glee I’ve ever felt and I’m so grateful to all those actors, but especially that man, for making my night something I’ll remember fondly for years to come!

The rest of the show was great after that little adrenaline rush and we came out after it and I was still just a little bundle of Excitement. The rest of my family around us commented on it and my parents had apparently managed to get their phones out quickly enough to catch footage and pictures of that hilarity that I still have saved on my own phone. But yeah there was another half of my family that had ended up on the far side of the theater from us. And it was then, after everything, that I learned they had also! seen me dancing! And I was like oh wait, hold up, you what??

So yeah, I had not realized at the time that there was a bit of a spotlight on us and the Whole Entire Theater had seen us dance. There was a little embarrassment mixed in there, but honestly I was far too happy to care at that point.

After that we went out to get some ice cream and it was just a really nice cooldown after what I can easily say was one of the best days of my life.

OKay okay dammit I’m writing it now and putting it at the end of the ask. Hello, future reader, this is directly continued off of the paragraph where I talked vaguely about something else I was thinking of. So, detailed explanation undetailed, there’s this beautiful, scenic place near me. There’s this old mansion that I’ve toured and aaaaaaahhh it’s really a beautifully preserved place. Old architecture like that is. Ohhh I could stare at it for days on end.

And there’s a lovely, what, ‘reserve’ I guess of nature around it? I’d describe it as walking through an enchanted forest. It’s just natural and sometimes if you’re close enough to the mansion you can catch glimpses of it through the treetops, and it’s genuinely one the most peaceful places I’ve ever been. I. Just. AAAAAH and that’s not even my whole point!!

Because right in the middle of this incredible greenery there’s a stage. And no, not the kind of stage you’re imagining. It’s like a little set of its own, a wooden ground stage and there’s a climbable second level with doors and all that. An all purpose sort of structure where they put on Shakespeare plays. They put on Shakespeare plays on that beautiful stage in the middle of the enchanted woods and I just want to cRY THINKING ABOUT IT I CAN’T GET TO MY POINT HERE.

So. SO. In order to tell this story. I. Need to go on Another side tangent and dearest Lord if you’re still with me I commend you, and I love you because this has been so stupidly self indulgent and rambly up until this point. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to make a cut work. Hm. This is off topic. It’s off the off topic from the off topic and was there even a topic to all this in the first place? I swear I’m completely sober and have never been Not Sober I’m just. Like This I guess.

Right. Other side tangent. So, this happened the summer after my freshman year of high school specifically. Why is that important? In my English class, we had done a class reading of Romeo and Juliet. And by class reading, I mean Class Impromptu Performance. I looked forward to that class So So Much because. Every day we would read through a scene or so of the story, and we had assigned roles that rotated every act. The combination of people in the class made for one of my favorite class dynamics I’ve ever had. Along with my teacher, everyone in there was so fun and silly but also knew when and how to stop so we could get work done. Far and away one of my favorite overall high school experiences. but yeah!

In the first act of Romeo and Juliet, I was assigned to be Mercutio. And, well, I was looking ahead a bit on our second day of reading because I hadn’t popped up yet. And, ah, if you know anything about Mercutio’s role in act one, you’ll know he’s got a Long Ass Monologue. And as I flipped ahead in our English book I found that and. My first thought was. “Oh woah, that’s a big ol block of text I wonder who reads th-” and my second thought, after reading the character name, was “oh shit.”

Sooooo I went over and asked my teacher like, “Hey, uh, Mrs. L. Am I. Am I reading that?” and she was like “yeah.” and I’m sitting there like “ah, alright, coooool.” and on the inside I really couldn’t figure out if I was excited to try my hand at it or Very Very Terrified. But I think my teacher that year knew me far better than I knew myself, because when it came to that Thursday and we’d made it to act 4, I fell in love with Mercutio’s character. He’s so overdramatic and expressive while also tossing a little snark in there, and he’s not afraid to be seen as a little insane. I had fun reading off the monologue, especially after reading it a few times beforehand to myself so I’d at least know what it said.

I think it was a few days later when I was talking to my teacher about that, and she said that every year she picks the roles very specifically according to her students. And with the Mercutio one, especially the first act, she said she just kinda Knows the students that role would resonate with. And, well, it resonated alright.

And. And ohhhhhh yeah you know where this is going. I read ahead at home on no fear Shakespeare because without the help to understand everything that we got in class it would have been very difficult for me to read that and get all the jokes and plot points myself. So yeah, when I got to act three I was suitably Very Upset to find out that Mercutio died. Since I had that English class for the last period of our day, I may or may not have stayed after the day after I read his death scene at home and grieved with my teacher over it. It was a fun conversation but yes I may or may not have been Quite Distraught that my favorite character died in the middle of the play. I could continue that answer, but yes that’s what you need to know. Mercutio was my favorite character by a long shot.

SOOOO fast forward to that summer where this Outdoor Shakespeare thing I was rambling about announced that the tragedy they put on that summer would be none other than Romeo and Juliet. And immediately I was super excited, because I knew the plot to that! I’d just experienced it in English class and it was absolutely too perfect to pass up.

So one summer evening, we took the trip out there to see this theater company’s production. It was such a lovely night. We brought takeout dinner and a picnic blanket to eat out on the grass before the show, then got in our seats to wait for it. And so something I hadn’t known about this before is that they do something called a ‘Green Show.’ It’s a crowd-pleaser sort of thing, an appetizer before the main show for the evening, and a warm up for the actors as well.

I don’t have clear memories of exactly what they did, but everyone was in this very simple folk-clothing if you catch my drift and it was very casual, like I was in some old town and watching some group of people sit on a corner and just have fun making music together. It was energizing and just made me feel so warm inside. It was familiar and homely, even though I’d never experienced it before. But during that show, I picked out this one guy apart from the rest who seemed especially enthusiastic. His energy was enthralling and he had a really beautiful voice. And I was just wondering, ah, I wonder what character he’s playing.

Yes, I know you can see where this is going. Let me have my fun with the dramatic reveal that past Boa got to experience.

Through the beginning of the show, I hadn’t seen that guy yet. Or I didn’t think I had, I’ve known to be very unperceptive. But finally at that fourth scene where he appears, I saw the Romeo and Benvolio actors walking up through our little aisle of chairs and behind them was Mercutio. And I was already excited because aaH! the monologue! the monologue i did in class but now i got to see it performed live! by a professional!! And then I got a good look at him and i was like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT’S THE COOL GUY FROM THE GREEN SHOW!!! aND I was just. Aaaaaahh!!!! I was so excited and it probably sounds really dumb but I. Just. Yeahhhhh that was awesome.

And what do you know, he was incredible in the role! From monologue to death scene, I thoroughly enjoyed his performance as Mercutio and the rest of my family probably knew that all too well from how excited I was at intermission. I just!!! I saw Mercutio and I Latched right on to his character so seeing him come to life in just the way I imagined and right before my eyes I. It was freaking incredible I don’t know man that actor just. Worked magic.

And after the show, all the actors kinda lined up by the exit and said farewell as we headed out. And I really wanted to say a word or two to the Mercutio actor but I nearly didn’t ask my parents to stop because I was kinda scared about it. Either I worked up the courage to ask my parents, or one of them asked if I wanted to go up and say hi, but yeah I did. I don’t remember my words exactly, but I was just stammering and nervous but got my point across of “hey i read the play this year and love your character and you played him super well and i just think that’s super cool and i’m lowkey idolizing you right now!’

So I went home with those warm butterflies in my heart that night. And it was such a wonderful experience that I just dug back out of my brain tonight so I’m really really happy I got to remember and record all that,,,

#you guys i am #So Fuckin Sappy On Main right now #sappy on main #To The Max #I didn't know I was this soft #what even #just all the best memories of my entire life are crawling out of the woodwork #and you know what #sometimes you really need to focus on those good things #so #i #yeah #i really did focus #Three hours of focus #i swear i'm actually insane #but i'm repeating myself and rambling but i'm so damn lost in my thoughts and happy about just existing at the moment #this is wild and kinda weird to be honest #why did i write more about my Big Rambly Feels than I have for a full chapter in months #what is life?#who is she?#never met her #i think quarantine is just making me sappy and remembering things i really enjoyed when i had socializing rights #i'm gonna stop rambling #this isn't even worthwhile rambling this time #if you're here #you must be a maniac like me #i'm so sorry for the brain damage my entire fucking essay above has brought you

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