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sugamamacustard · 3 years

Text

One more time

Pairing: Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff! (Sorry, no NSFW this time! I just couldn’t fit it!)

Request: Hi 👋 May I request an Alpha Oikawa x Omega reader scenario where they already have a pup and Oikawa wants another. How he would he be with his pregnant omega and his pups ?I'm sorry if this is confusing, ABO Au is one of my favourites but I have never made a request before so I'm not sure how to explain? Fluff, NSFW you can write it however u like THANK YOU 💕

Summary: You loved your small little family, but your alpha felt there was something missing.

Author’s Note: I loved this request so much??? Like, it’s so wholesome and domestic and my A’/B/O heart melts every time at Dad! Alpha! boys. I’m super sorry as I didn’t put any NSFW into this.

Requests: Open!

Toru Oikawa

➵ Your daughter Akemi was a blessing in every sense of the word. She was a sweetheart, happy and giggly and the absolute cutest little thing.

➵ Even if she did look like an absolute carbon copy of your husband.

➵ Her bright brown eyes and chocolate locks all copy and pasted from him.

➵ She was precious in every way nonetheless, even if Toru rubbed it in your face every chance he got.

➵ You never got made at him though, as he was the ideal father in every sense of the word.

➵ He made time for Akemi every day, even if he was sore and sweaty from practice—he’d shower before saying hi to her--, he’d let you have at least thirty minutes a day to yourself, more if he feels he has it down, which is almost always the case.

➵ Toru fed her, changed her, helped you to clean up the house. You both worked like a well-oiled machine and parenthood was a breeze.

➵ It was tough at times but you both stuck to your guns, communicating efficiently about what you wanted for Akemi and her childhood.

➵ How you wanted to deal with future tantrums, what schools you were looking at for her (Neither of you were touching high schools just yet), but there was one thing that you always seemed to slip out of discussing.

➵ Siblings for Akemi.

➵ Either you never really had the time before Akemi was crying, or you and Toru were fast asleep by the time you had the chance or- there were just a multitude of things that stopped the conversation from happening.

➵ Until Akemi’s first birthday though. You were rocking your daughter to sleep, brushing your hand along her head and past the brown locks on her head, just reveling in the feeling of holding your pup, a sign of your and your alpha’s love for each other, even if your omega felt the smallest bit…Empty?

➵ You knew that you and Toru wanted more children, just never got a chance to really talk about it

➵ . “Hey,” Your husbands voice purred into your ear, making you purr in response.

➵ His hands rested on your hips, holding you close as he held his daughter’s hand, running his thumb over her knuckles with such a soft and proud smile, making you just melt.

➵ “I know we haven’t talked about it in a while, but I want another.”

➵ You laughed. “Another pup, huh?”

➵ He nodded, rounding around to take Akemi. He laid her in her crib, slowly moving to hold you close once more—his hands on your hips with yours wrapped around your neck.

➵ He kissed your forehead, resting his forehead against yours.

➵ “Mhmm. This time they’ll look just like you with your cute little nose and beautiful eyes. Maybe even your adorable little cheeks.” You laughed, squirming when his hands came up to pinch your cheeks, enlarging your smiling face.

➵ He let go suddenly, turning and walking out of the nursery with a smirk. “Of course, maybe the Oikawa genes just run to deep.” He chuckled, making his way to your bedroom. You merely laughed once more before following.

___

➵ “And then when mommy’s tummy is all big and round- Pop! Out comes your new sibling. Maybe a boy or girl. I hope for a girl. Two little princesses to spoil and love.”

➵ Akemi giggled at her father’s words, not really understanding what was going on but enjoying the attention, nonetheless.

➵ Toru couldn’t blame her though, as he too was laughing and giggling all through the house.

➵ It had been four months since you began trying, a heat passing where Oikawa proved yet again, he was the perfect husband by tending to you and allowing his sister to watch Akemi for four days your heat was there.

➵ She was ecstatic to hear the news of you guys trying and jumped at every opportunity to babysit for you guys.

➵ “It’s not really a pop, but whatever you say, Daddy.” You laughed, stepping out of the bathroom, thin stick in your hands. Toru watched you expectantly, turning Akemi to look at you too.

➵ “Ma!” Akemi preened, holding your cheeks with her small chubby hands when your nose rubbed against hers.

➵ You crouched in front of her, holding Toru’s knees with your hands before smiling up at him.

➵ “Hope your ready to go through those nine months again.” You chuckled, Toru nearly squealing with delight as he brought you into a hug, Akemi squished carefully between you two.

➵ “Ma!”

➵ “Ma- Oh my god- I’m gonna be a dad again ‘Kemi! Focus on me!”

➵ “Ma!”

___

➵ You knew you married Toru Oikawa for a good reason.

➵ Yes, he could be an asshole.

➵ Yes, he could be the most annoying person you would ever meet.

➵ Yes, he sometimes cared too much for volleyball and-

➵ You had a point. What was it?

➵ Oh- Toru was an amazing husband through and through, despite all his flaws. He cared deeply for you, for your daughter, for your new baby (You decided to keep the gender a surprise to piss of Mattsun and Hanamaki who had a current running bet on what it would be).

➵ Every inch of his being, both alpha and not, was dedicated to your family. He was just as doting during this pregnancy as he was the last, making you purr in delight. He never wasted an opportunity to run out and grab whatever you were craving. He was even teaching Akemi to help.

➵ She’d waddle around after you—making you watch where you are going 24/7—picking up anything you dropped and giving it the extra foot and a half that would make your life so much easier.

➵ She picked out blankets and onesies and pacifiers, everything you would need she had a say in. And maybe it was another Blood Oikawa thing, but she had great taste.

➵ There was a small running duckling theme in the new nursery, which was painted a pale grey, most of which was coordinated by…You guessed it.

➵ Oikawa and Akemi.

➵For being twenty- almost twenty-one - months (A year and eight months), she was incredibly clever and smart for her age. That was all you though.

➵ No way was Toru ‘hit it till it breaks’ Oikawa the smart one in your relationship. (I live to bully this man I’m so sorry).

➵ When the first signs of labour (I’ve waited for this moment. To write about labour, as I see it done wrong all the time and as a Bio 30 student it hurts) showed up, you two began making plans to slowly prep yourself for the delivery of your new baby.

➵ Oikawa called up his sister, who screeched—loudly into his ear when he told her about your first contractions—before agreeing to come over in case they drastically increased. You re-packed and double checked your hospital bag, making sure you had everything you didn’t during your first trip.

➵ And you even packed Akemi her own bag for when her aunt would drop her off to meet her new sibling. She was just as excited to meet them as you were and was constantly handing you things she would later ‘gift’ to her sibling (These included a multitude of…art that was labeled 2 bb in the cutest, but messiest scribbles you’ve ever seen).

➵ You had to explain that when her sibling got back from the hospital, she could give them all the art she wanted as it would not all fit into the bag. She understood, watching you pack a change of clothes and pull ups for her.

➵ She would waddle after you as you and Toru would slowly walk up and down the hallways to try and ease the pain, which was more uncomfortable than painful really.

➵ Coos left both of you when she tied to hold onto your leg like Toru was, looking up to you with wide eyes brimmed with tears.

➵ When active labour kicked in, she cried, hugging you both before you left. Akemi made sure to pat your belly at least one more time before waving you off, watching you both leave.

➵ Toru was amazing the whole time, purring to you and letting you crush his hand (Yes. It was his spiking hand as he was going on paternity leave and had the time to heal. Plus, nothing would ever top his family).

➵ When it came time to push, he was encouraging in every sense of the word, coaching you through the entire thing.

➵ He brushed off every snap you sent his way, every angry word and vile insult spat his way. He didn’t know what you were going through, just that it was painful and taxing on every part of your being.

➵ Mentally, physically, and he was not about to start a fight with you.

___

➵ When your son was finally handed to Toru, he cried. He’s cried a lot in his life, most in front of you, but he would always cry when it came to his family.

➵ His son was just as small as Akemi was when she was born, but just as precious.

➵ His face was squishy and chubby—and cone shaped—but he was adorable and you both absolutely loved him.

➵ When Akemi got to meet him, she also cried. She loved her brother the moment they met, which you and Toru were forever grateful for, and would refuse to go more then ten feet away from him.

➵ You ended up naming him Hiroshi, which Akemi had been trying to pronounce for as long as she’d known it.

➵ Your little family was beautiful, and Toru was thankful for you, giving him his two bundles of absolute joy, and your love.

➵ He was entranced with you from the moment he met you and never knew his life would lead to this. He wouldn’t change it even if he had the chance.

➵ In case you were wondering, your son ended up looking exactly like his sister and your husband. Seems the Oikawa genes run long and true.

#alpha/beta/omega #alpha oikawa #alpha/beta/omega AU #alpha/beta/omega verse #A/B/O verse #a/b/o #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu omegaverse #a/b/o haikyuu #alpha toru #alpha toru oikawa #alpha toru oikawa x omega reader #alpha oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #custard writes #this is so wholesome #dad! Oikawa x Mom! Reader

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moxfirefly · 3 years

Note

Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!

As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.

TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.

Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.

But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.

But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.

It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.

Surrounded by normalcy.

And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...

But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.

His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.

And fuck, three months of you away?!

Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.

Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?

He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!

It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.

He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.

Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.

It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.

You’re there.

Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.

“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.

“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?

“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.

You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.

Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.

“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.

“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.

“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.

Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.

Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.

He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.

There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.

He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.

The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.

You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.

So you do.

Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.

That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.

You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.

Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.

You say it too, against his skin.

Where you wish you could stay everyday.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt michelangelo x female reader #michelangelo tmnt #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt michelangelo #mikey tmnt #tmnt mikey #michelangelo x reader #mikey x reader #Mikey #Michelangelo #smut prompt #ns*w #ask #bumbleburn

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moonshineholland · 4 years

Text

Never Let Me Go / T.H. x reader

R E Q U E S T: Hi! Saw that you’re taking requests and i was thinking maybe i could get some imagine? One where tom took his stress out on his girlfriend causing them to have this huge fight the night before they have to spend time with both of their families and of course, the whole family knows something’s wrong because both of them are not in the mood and the two mothers of both sides decides to talk to them separately and then making them make up? Thank youuuu in advance! Hope you can see this! 🥰

A/N: It’s been so long since I've actually sat down to right something so I hope this is half decent! Shoutout to @cumholland for reading through this and helping me out💖

W A R N I N G S: Kinda angsty, I guess you could interpret the ending as being a little suggestive *wiggles eyebrows*😂

W O R D • C O U N T: 2.8k

The silence in the car was killing you and you were 99.9% sure it was killing Tom too. The atmosphere was tense, even as you pretended to be busy counting the trees, but neither of you were planning on being the first to apologise, you’d gone all morning hardly uttering a word to each other and you weren’t about to give in and be nice to him, especially with the way he had treated you this morning.

You’d both woken up when Tom’s alarm went off at 7:30. Usually, he’d wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder, yet today there wasn’t even a “good morning darling” which, of course, stung. Tom rolled out of bed and you just pulled the covers up further, staring at the wardrobe as he got ready, you thought about turning over whilst he was picking his clothes out but then you realised just how petty that would be so you averted your gaze, the wall suddenly becoming much more interesting.

“We’re leaving in an hour.” And with that, Tom had left the room, shutting the bedroom door behind him. You could feel the tears prickling your waterline, the first thing he’d said to you in over twelve hours and it couldn’t have sounded more bitter, like he didn’t want to go, especially not with you. You sighed, throwing back the covers and trudging into the bathroom, coming to stand in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. Normally you'd be stood with a smile on your face, having just shared some loving moments with him before forcing yourselves to get up, you’d brush your teeth in a comfortable silence, sneaking side-eye glances at him that he would always, always catch, wiggling his eyes brows at you before turning to rest his back against the counter. This morning you brushed your teeth alone, sadness hanging in the air.

You made the bed, picking up the stray cushions that were strewn across the floor, they’d usually get stacked neatly to one side before the two of you got into bed but not last night, last night you’d thrown them angrily, not caring where they landed just so long as you could curl up in bed and fall asleep before Tom came up. The sun was shining when you opened the curtains, a pleasant change from the gloom of yesterday, it gave you hope that you would still have a good weekend at the beach house, with both of your families, regardless of whether you and Tom were on speaking terms or not.

Sifting through your side of the wardrobe you decided on your favourite red sundress, decorated with tiny daisies and frills underneath the bust, one of Tom’s favourite dresses, not that you were dressing for his pleasure. You grabbed your denim jacket from the back of the door and your small suitcase, taking one final glance at the picture of the two of you that sat on the desk, it was taken on a double date, you’d scooped some whipped cream from your milkshake onto the tip of his nose, his mouth hanging open and feigning shock, whilst you were caught mid laugh, you never laughed as hard as you did when you were with him.

You made your way downstairs, lingering on the middle steps. You still had twenty minutes left, did you really want to sit in an uncomfortable silence with your boyfriend? But you definitely needed a drink so you continued your decent, breezing right past Tom, who was watching the football highlights and into the kitchen. Coffee brewed, you sat at the kitchen table scrolling through instagram, pretty much losing track of time as you came to the end of your drink. You hadn’t had any breakfast and you knew that if you rushed to make something it would only piss Tom off even more, so you picked up a banana, you’d eat it in the car.

“You’re not eating that in my car.” He’d noticed the banana in your hand straight away, almost as if he was waiting to find something to start an argument about. You didn't even know whether to respond, at first you thought he was joking but when he walked out of the house, not even offering to take your bags, you knew you wouldn’t even be getting the chance to retaliate. That was enough to turn your sombre mood into that of a sour one and without even thinking twice you threw the banana through the kitchen door, straight at the unsuspecting washing machine.

And now here you were, driving to Cornwall, hungry and slightly angry, hangry. Tom had never really cared too much about you eating in his car just so long as you were careful and, considering you weren’t a child anymore, you generally did a really good job of keeping your food in your mouth and not anywhere else. Yes, Tom had gotten his car cleaned a couple of days ago but that had never meant you couldn’t eat a measly banana in there, he was doing it just to spite you and you hated it. When did the two of you ever get like this? Yeah you’d ‘bicker’ here and there but it never lasted more than ten minutes and always ended in an apology.

About an hour into the trip you’d popped your headphones on. The quietness of the car was getting to be too much, so you’d decided that listening to some of your favourite songs would put you in a better mood, hopefully. It certainly helped to pass the time because before you knew it you’d pulled up to the row of beach houses and before you even had time to register that you were here, Tom was out of the car and already making his way inside with his bags, having tossed the car keys onto your lap, he obviously didn’t feel like waiting for you to struggle stuffing your headphones into your backpack. Your head fell back against the headrest, eyes closing so as to stop those pesky tears yet again, thinking about the time the two of you spent here last year.

Last year was your first time at the beach houses, having only been with Tom for four months, he’d invited you so that he could spend his time off with both you and his family, it had been the most amazing three days. You spent the evenings cuddled up next time him on an outdoor daybed, drinking wine and combing your fingers through his hair, having known just how jam-packed his schedule had been, it was nice to see him relax, enjoying the company of his family and even though he knew he’d be back to work soon he never dwelled on those thoughts. On your last evening in Cornwall you'd stayed awake until everyone else had gone to bed, staring up at the stars and finishing off the last of your rosé, he’d buried his face in your hair and whispered, “I love you.”

You sighed, grabbing your bag from the footwell and opening the car door, you thought about getting your bags from the boot, but ultimately decided that you really couldn’t be bothered, all you wanted was to go and lie down, the bags could wait until later. With the car locked you made your way inside, your mum quick to pull you into a hug, seeing her face provided you with a sense of relief and you let out a sigh, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. It was Nikki’s idea to have your family come down to Cornwall this year, she knew how much you were missing everyone since moving in with Tom, it was such a sweet gesture that you had cried when she told you she’d arranged everything with your mum.

“What’s wrong?” your mum was sure to keep her voice down, making sure only you heard as she still held you in her arms.

“Nothing.” You mumbled.

“Come on, a mother can always tell when there’s something wrong with her child.” She wasn’t letting up but you really didn't have the energy to talk about it.

“Why don’t you ask him.”

“Trouble in paradise?” She pulled away slightly but still kept one arm around your shoulder, both of you watching on as your dad was busy chatting with Tom and Dom.

“I guess you could say that.” You sighed, a deep sigh that came from the bottom of your lungs. You wanted to be stood with Tom, resting your head on his shoulder. You wished it was like last year, full of love, excitement and lust. Looks like the honeymoon period is over, huh?

Nikki’s voice cut through everyone's chatting as she stood with the keys to the houses, explaining who would be staying where along the row of beach houses. Harry, Sam and Paddy had their own place, next to them Nikki and Dom and your parents had decided to share a house and yours and Tom’s house was just a little walk away. No-one had really noticed that anything was wrong with either of you until Nikki had handed Tom the key to your place, watching as you approached him without a word, without even a smile and took the key out of his hands. You picked up his bags and headed for the front door, as much as you loved spending time with his family and as much as you missed yours, it was all a bit overwhelming and kind of painful, the majority of the people in the room were related to Tom, you really just needed to get out of there and catch your breath.

“Where are you going?” Tom’s voice followed you outside, closing the wooden door behind him as he stepped onto the path.

“To our place.” There was more you wanted to say but kept it to yourself, you didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You did want him to, deep down but you couldn’t let him think everything had blown over just because you were in your little paradise.

“No,” you weren’t looking at him, your eyes were focused on the beach, the soft waves that lapped against the shore, but you could practically see the frown on his face. It made you feel bad instantly. “I’m gonna go for a lie down, so there wouldn’t be much conversation anyway.” You looked back at him over your shoulder, forcing a half smile onto your face before heading to the house.

•••

Tom had been trying to distract himself since you’d left, fiddling with his phone in his hands whilst he tried his best to pay attention to his brothers’ conversation about their game of golf last week, something he’d usually be very interested in but all he could think about is whether he should text you, make sure you’re ok. He looked up at the sunset, thinking back to last year when the two of you had no worries. You’d sit outside for hours and hours laughing and chatting and then he’d watch your face light up in awe at the pretty colours that spread across the sky, lifting your phone to capture a picture.

“Tom?” His mothers’ voice eventually caught his attention as she peered her head through the sliding glass doors, “can I borrow you for a second?” He stood up, sliding his phone into the pocket of his dark wash jeans, grabbing his beer from the table as he made his way inside, following his mum into the living room. He sat across from his mum and yours and he was pretty sure he knew where this was going.

“What’s going on?”

He sighed, sinking down further into his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I-, I’ve been a dick,” he said with an even bigger sigh. “We had an argument last night, it’s my fault, I’d had a really shitty day at work and I took it out on her, which I know is no excuse and I don’t know, we were pretty horrible to each other.”

“And have you apologised?”

He shook his head, looking down, almost as if he was ashamed. His mum had always told him that no matter what, he should never go to bed on a argument and last night he did. Not only did he feel like he’d let you down but his mum as well and yours. “I guess I was just being too stubborn,” he scoffed, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes diverting to the kitchen.

“Tom,” your mum started, “if there’s anything I can tell you about her, it’s that she loves you more than anything, she never bloody shuts up about you!” that made him smile as he looked down, a compliment that filled his heart with warmth. “She’s told me a million times that all she ever wants is for you to hold her and never let go, she’s never said that about anyone,” your mum had tears in her eyes, “so please don’t let go, especially over something so trivial.”

She was right, in the grand scheme of things it was trivial, sure both of you might’ve said some mean things but Tom knew it was definitely in the heat of the moment, he’d come in and taken his stress out on you, which wound you up, it was only fair you’d be angry but he missed you. Not talking to you all day or holding your hand or kissing you had really taken it’s toll on him, he felt ten times more stressed than he did yesterday.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, to both mums, he truly appreciated their intervention. He had worried about whether he’d let his stubbornness take over, he’d wondered just how long it’d go on for, would he be sleeping next to you tonight? Or on the couch?

He pulled out his phone, he wanted you to come over here, spend time with everyone but he knew what he had to do first. He started typing out the message:

Please come over, we need to talk, miss you xx

•••

You’d been sitting at the kitchen table doing absolutely nothing but drinking a cup of tea when Tom’s text flashed up on your phone and you’d be lying if you said that you didn't smile at it. It was finally going to be over, you hoped. Surely you couldn’t argue anymore, right? You finished off the rest of your cup before slipping on your shoes and rummaging through Tom’s bag that you’d discarded on the couch earlier, pulling his pale blue hoodie out and shoving it on.

When you entered the house you were met with complete silence, you assumed everyone was in the garden but when you entered the kitchen you saw him sat there with his head in his hands. At the sound of your footsteps and your hand on his back he bolted up. “H-hey.” His voice was soft, you could tell he’d been crying. You let your hand trail from his back, down his arm and to his hand, letting him pull you gently into his lap, wrapping your arm around his neck as you perched. He looked up at you, his eyes red and puppy-like. “I’m so sorry darlin,” his voice broke slightly as he pulled at the strings of his hoodie, the smallest of smiles making it’s way onto his face as he noticed you were wearing his Suspicious Antwerp hoodie.

“No I'm sorry, I should’ve just understood that you’d had a hard day and let it go.” You apologised.

“But how were you to know? I shouldn’t have had such an attitude on me,” he brushed some hair out of your face and kissed your cheek delicately “I love you and I don’t ever want to let go of you.” He mumbled, looking intently into your eyes. “Well, we’ve missed the sunset, so how about, we take this bottle of wine,” he leant forward and picked it up off the table, it was your favourite, “and have a bath? And I'll make it up to you, let you know just how sorry I really am.” His lips were pressed delicately against the skin under your ear, the hand that wasn’t holding the bottle of wine was rubbing soft circles on your skin under his hoodie.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know, please never let me go.”

#feedback appreciated!#tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland moodboard #moonshineholland writes #moonshineholland fic #moonshineholland moodboards

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i-need-entertainment · 3 years

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Sweet Home Hyogo: Chapter 1 ex-technically-not-ex-husband

Introduction -Chapter 2

*For context, this is based off of and around the movie Sweet Home Alabama, you do not need to watch it to know what’s happening though*

*Beep Beep* *Beep Beep* *Bee-* Y/n snatched her arms back under the covers after she turned off her obnoxious alarm, unwillingly whining as she knew she had to get up. She slowly went over the events of last night, smiling as she felt the very nice diamond ring that sat on her left ring finger, smiling wider when she thought of her boyfriend-turned-fiancé who had just proposed the previous night. She took a deep breath in and out, readying herself before she rolled over and out of bed, feet landing on the semi cold carpet. She sleepily stumbled over to her dresser before picking out her usual work outfit

Before heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. After she was dressed and her hair was done she walked over to her vanity, putting on her makeup and getting her accessories when she froze at a single piece of jewelry. Her wedding ring. She groaned as she realized just why she hadn’t rushed to get out of bed this morning. And it had to do with the impromptu visit to Hyogo she was going to have to take. Why you may ask? To make her husband-but-not-really-husband sign the darn divorce papers she had been trying to get him to sign for…what was it? Five years now?

She rolled her eyes as she shoved the ring to the back of her drawer, trying to clear her head so she could start her day on a…better note. Ah yes, her ex-but-not-really-ex-husband, Shinsuke Kita. He and Y/n had been madly in love since her first year of high school (His second year), and best friends since childhood. In fact, they had been SO madly in love, that they married right out of high school at the ripe old age of 18 & 19.

Maybe not the best decision, and looking back it definitely caused some problems, but what could they say? They were in love! Her dad loved him, his grandmother loved her, and they loved each other! What more was there to it? Well her mom wasn’t too fond of him but that’s beside the point! Things had been going great, the perfect fairytale really, until they were just shy of four years of marriage when they just…drifted apart? They both became absorbed in their respective careers, and when Y/n had wanted to move out of Hyogo…it really caused some problems.

At the time Kita’s grandmother had been having health issues, so when Y/n said she was taking a job in Tokyo, both parties flipped out at the other, sharp words were said and Y/n…well Y/n left. She had tried getting him to sign the papers many, many times, but every time he simply sent the unsigned papers right back to her apartment. Which was more of a nuisance than a problem, but now that she was going to get married to someone else…it was kind of a problem.

Y/n shook her head as she left her bedroom, entering the kitchen and starting the coffee maker before grabbing a muffin and sitting down at the dining room table. Happily munching her blueberry muffin she hummed contentedly before sifting through the mail she had haphazardly thrown on the table. Tossing some bills and other items to the side, her eyes once again landed on the yellow folder she had seen several times within the past five years. She opened it slowly, a little flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe he had come around sat weakly in her heart but was crushed as she saw the empty line where he should have put his signature.

But, this time there was a little yellow sticky note with a lovely little ‘not happening’ from the husband himself. Y/n groaned for the nth time that morning and frustratingly shoved the paper back into her folder, closing it and shoving it in her purse. Looks like she’s going to Hyogo after all. Great. Don’t get me wrong, its not like she hates her home gosh no! But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t too keen on going back there. For starters, it wasn’t exactly the big exciting city she had come to know and love, but she knew as soon as she stepped foot into her home town, word would spread quickly.

She sighed, knowing she’d have to make her rounds if she went home, visiting all of the sweet old ladies and any old friends that were still there. *Ding* She was broken out of her day dream by a notification from her phone. ‘Love ‘ Y/n smiled as she grabbed her phone and unlocked it, going to text messages to see what her beloved Fiancé had texted her. “Good morning love, I know I won’t be able to see you today, but I just wanted you to know I love you.” Y/n giggled as she typed back a reply, “Good morning love <3! I’m sorry I won’t see you tonight ☹ but I’ll miss you! I love you too~”

Y/n let out a dreamy sigh as she stood up from the table, grabbed her purse and made her coffee, quickly slipping on her heels and leaving her apartment. She made her way down to her car, got in and drove to her work, or ‘Tokyo Designs’. She parked in the parking garage and made her way inside, signing in at the front desk and making her way to her desk. She sat down and opened her lap top, checking her emails and such before “Y/NNNNNN” She looked up to see her good friend Hitoka running towards her “SHOW IT TO ME! I NEED TO SEE IT!”

Y/n held a finger up to her lips and nodded her head to the twenty or so other workers in the room, Hitoka quickly hushed herself and apologized, the other workers just quietly laughed and smiled, shaking their heads at the young intern-turned designer they all treated like a little sister. Hitoka turned her attention back to Y/n, a big dorky smile on her face, “Soooo Where is it!” Y/n looked at her with an amused expression and raised eyebrow. “Where is what?” Hitoka rolled her eyes and pointed to her left hand, which was conveniently placed snuggly under her right hand. “Your engagement ring!” Y/n’s face lit up as she slowly removed her hand, bringing it up to show it off.

Hitoka’s eyes practically had sparkles in them as she examined the ring. “Awww that’s so cute! I remember when Tadashi proposed, I wish you guys all the happiness in the world!” Y/n smiled and gave her friend a quick hug. “Thanks Hitoka, that means a lot really. I know Keiji and I will be very happy.” Oh yes, Keiji Akaashi. The man who had stolen her heart, and gladly given her his. Y/n met Akaashi about 3 years ago, and they started dating not long after that. Y/n and Akaashi were both madly in love with each other and couldn’t wait to get married! Except that…they would have to because…uh…Y/n was still…well married.

AND I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING ‘WhAt Do YoU mEaN mArRiEd ShOuLd ShE eVeN Be DaTiNg?!?!’ And the answer to that is no. B U T its not like she didn’t try to get divorced! He just…wouldn’t…sign the…papers. But after five years were they even still married? They never spoke beyond ‘Hey, sign the darn paper’ and the ever so persistent ‘no <3’. So when the supposed man of her dreams came along she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be happy, especially when Akaashi treated her like a queen!

And of course she had told Akaashi about her hus- oh…no..no she hadn’t. So beyond not being able to divorce her ex-but-not-really-ex-husband, she also hadn’t told her FIANCE about EVER being married so…oops? “Did Akaashi finally propose?” The two girls looked back to find their other co-worker and friend, Asahi, walking towards them. “He sure did.” Y/n smiled as she lifted her hand once again, her hand being taken delicately by Asahi and the ring examined. “Woah, he sure spared no expense on the ring, it couldn’t have been cheap. But it probably helps he’s the mayor’s son.”

Ohhh yes. And to top off all of your other problems, Akaashi’s mother, your oh so lovely mother in law is the mayor of Tokyo. And, lets just say her and her son are N O T H I N G alike. Like, at all. Akaashi- er Keiji was polite, considerate, and sweet whereas his mother was conniving, selfish and cruel. Hence why Keiji wasn’t very fond of her, and quite frankly neither were you. “Yeah, believe it or not, he actually went with a fairly simple one.” They all looked back down to the silver metal band with a square shaped diamond on top with smaller diamonds lining the band.

Asahi whistled “You and I have different definitions of ‘simple’ N/n (nickname).” Y/n laughed and nodded her head “Yeah, okay. I’ve seen your dress designs.” Asahi chuckled as he held his hands up in defeat. Hitoka perked up and looked at Y/n. “Oh, hey N/n….what are you gonna do about..well…your husband?” She whispered the last part, and Y/n groaned. “I’m going to Hyogo after work today, Hopefully I’ll be back tonight, at the latest tomorrow morning. And hopefully I’ll be divorced…finally,” Y/n sighed as Hitoka and Asahi nodded their heads. “Yeah I’m sorry that’s taken so long…but…I’m also sorry it didn’t work out.”

Y/n nodded “Yeah me too….BUT that’s in the past now! I am now happily engaged and I will be happily divorced in no time! Now, we need to finish that line.” The three determinedly nodded their heads and got to work. After many pricked fingers and too many cups of coffee, the three had finished and packed up for the day. After saying goodbye to her friends and off of the phone with her Fiancé she hopped in her car and started for the veerrry long drive to her very own home town. Hyogo.

#kita shinsuke #akaashi keiji #angst #fluff #crack #kita x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi angst #kita angst #y/n #Haikuu!!#akaashi x y/n #kita x y/n #love triangle

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ofnoras · 4 years

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『 candice patton. twenty-nine. cis woman. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that NORA BARLOW from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview ? minnie may’s always calling them -CIRCUMSPECT & -OBSTINATE. i happen to think they’re not that bad ! they’re a pretty cool PET STORE OWNER and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +PROTECTIVE & +AMIABLE. i hope i see them around again !

hello friends ! my name is elle and i’m super excited to be here !! i’ve been eyeing this rp for a while with bones of an idea and once i saw thia’s connection after my zoom class today, i began to piece the puzzle together ! there’s still more i wish to explore about nora’s backstory and personality, but for right now, this is what i’ve got !

BASICS.

full name: nora june barlow.

birth date: april 10th.

zodiac: taurus.

age: twenty nine.

gender: cis woman.

pronouns: she/her.

sexual/romantic orientation: heterosexual.

current residence: fair lane, mapleview, north carolina.

living conditions: with boyfriend, adrien ryerson.

occupation: owner of pet store, happy tails.

languages spoken: english.

BACKGROUND.

birth place: york, pennsylvania.

education level: college graduate with a bachelors in business administration.

father: franklin barlow.

mother: marian barlow, deceased.

siblings: older brother and younger sister.

birth order: middle child.

children: one on the way !

relationship status: engaged to adrien ryerson.

pets: three year old tortoiseshell cat named lady.

PHYSICAL.

faceclaim: candice patton.

eye color: brown.

hair color: brunette.

glasses/contacts?: wears reading glasses.

dominant hand: left.

height: 5′6″

build: slim.

tattoos: none.

piercings: both ears pierced ( previous belly button ring that closed up ).

allergies: peanuts.

EXTRA.

+ traits: protective, amiable, optimistic ( tries to be, at least ).

- traits: circumspect, obstinate, impatient.

hobbies: knitting, reading, driving aimlessly around town with the radio blasting.

likes: cold weather, animals, pastel colors, making friends.

dislikes: being alone, talking too much about herself, a messy room.

alignment: neutral good.

BIOGRAPHY.

was born on april 10th, 1991 to franklin and marian barlow, their second child and first daughter. grew up in york, pennsylvania until she was eleven and her parents decided to move to mapleview due to being closer to other relatives. though she now lives on fair lane, she used to live on sycamore way up until she moved out. her father was a dentist and her mother a teacher, two paths she never wanted to follow, despite their encouragement. as a family, they were never incredibly close -- her father had quite the temper and three years after moving to mapleview, her mother had an affair. it was the talk of the town and nora, nor her siblings, could escape the gossip. her parents soon divorced and life was never the same after that.

more than anything, nora and her siblings fought. the divorce split them onto sides and their clashing personalities never had peace between them for too long. her brother was too much like her father and her sister never had a nice thing to say. still, when it came to others, nora protected them fiercely and when push came to shove, she always had their back, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual.

as a child, in an environment that made it seem like there was a side to choose, nora chose her father. it was good that she had, as she and her siblings spent their weekdays with him in his two bedroom apartment. the constant bickering and fighting grew worse as they got older, many arguments turning physical or ending up with something broken. nora always tried to be the mediator, but nothing could ever calm anyone down once they’d been riled up. instead, she filled her high school years with clubs and as many friends as she could, keeping herself out of the apartment, always busy.

nora was sixteen when her mother passed away. tragic car accident. the two hadn’t spoken in nearly a year and at first, nora was numb. she was grateful for it, especially when the guilt came next and it never left. her siblings hated how emotionless she was with their mother’s passing, at the funeral, in the days after. it wasn’t that she hadn’t cared, but that everything hit her a week later, once she was alone in her bedroom. there are many reasons nora hates being alone with her thoughts, but her mother’s death was the start of that. it’s also one of the contributors to why she prefers to keep busy.

she distanced herself from her siblings and her father, never quite being as open with them as she once was. nora took a part time job at her dad’s office, working there for a few years until she graduated. with the inheritance from her mother and scholarships, nora was able to leave mapleview for college. she wanted a fresh start and in her mind, she never planned to return to mapleview. nora went to college out west and majored in business administration with the hopes of starting her own business in... whatever made her happy. meanwhile her father’s business closed and he was forced to retire.

after graduating, she planned to follow where business opportunities would take her. all that crumbled when she got a phone call that her father was in the hospital. he’d had a heart attack and nora was terrified that if she lost her dad, the overwhelming guilt she’d felt with her mother would come back. out of her own selfish reasons, she returned to mapleview. her father recovered with surgery, but was never quite the same. his health was declining and doctors were able to determine he had early onset alzheimer's. nora made it her responsibility to come home and take care of her dad, getting a job at the local pet shop while she did. the money she’d been saving up went to a day nurse for her father. he was family, after all.

years passed. when she was twenty four, she met adrien. his charming personality was evident from their first conversation and while it didn’t take much for nora to be smitten with him, she definitely made him work for it. soon after, they started dating, and they’ve been together ever since. with adrien’s job and the both of them being focused on their careers, a future was something far off in the distance. marriage, kids... they’d briefly spoken about it, but left the conversation for down the road. it was never a question that she wanted to be with adrien, but the idea of a family scared her. she wasn’t sure if she’d be a good mom and the unknown was something she didn’t know she could come to terms with. that was, until she got really sick one morning and decided to take a pregnancy test. the positive terrified her at first, knowing they had wanted to wait and that there was no way they were ready... but seeing adrien’s response and thinking about the future definitely got her excited. now her pinterest is full of “nursery ideas” and “first time mom tips”.

it was a year after she met adrien that she became the owner of her own pet store. the place was local, owned by an elderly woman that treated nora like the loving mother she’d always wanted. they both bonded over the years and when she decided she’d be retiring to florida with her husband, she wanted nora to have the business. even as assistant manager, nora couldn’t possibly accept... but then the deed was being put in her name and she jumped at the opportunity. a local place that sells pet supplies and occasionally takes in surrendered pets to care for/find loving homes for.

and that all brings us up to present time ! nora has been pregnant nearly a month at this point, owns and works in her own pet store ( which will have a name soon enough ), and just really loves being back in mapleview. she missed it, she really did. she’s excited for this new path and what the future will bring her for the first time in... well, for the first time ever, really.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS.

old family friends/neighbors from when she lived on sycamore way.

cousins/relatives that her family originally moved to town for.

perhaps bad tension with the family of the man her mother had an affair with?

exes/childhood friends that drifted apart/competition rivals in school.

someone who has been best friends with nora since she first moved to mapleview.

moms who nora has been bothering about future mom stuff/pregnancy stuff.

frequent customers of her store/people who had adopted animals that keep nora updated ( please, she always Begs for this when people adopt out ).

i’m honestly down for anything !!

if u read all of that ... phew ... idk why u did but THANK U ! i know it’s long ... i’m sorry ... but if you like this, i’ll message you to plot ! i do have discord so if you’d prefer that, let me know, i just don’t have it up right now so i’ll need to know if you wanna switch to that !

#mapleviewintro #abuse tw #death tw #pinned post !

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idkmybffpotter · 4 years

Text

HP Fic Rec List

Yooooooooo. Ive finally gotten started on making a fic rec list (Im so bad at remembering to save the fics I love).

Here is the start of it! Warning: Most of these fics are epic length, 250k+words. Enjoy!!!

Ps. Please feel free to DM me to talk about any of these! Id love to hear your thoughts!

DRARRY

***Life Cycle Series by WIndseeker2305. https://archiveofourown.org/series/21657

1,402,781 words. #Creatures #Soulmates #Mpreg, #Abandoned in 3rd book

After a summer of torture with the Dursleys, Harry falls into a self induced magical coma. Draco-who holds a hidden torch for him-jumps in to help. There they meet and decide many things that could very well change the Wizarding World forever.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Literally my fav story ive ever read everrrr.

***Turn by Saras_Girl https://archiveofourown.org/works/879852/chapters/1692695

306,708 words #Alternate Reality

***Leo Inter Serpentes by Aeternum https://archiveofourown.org/series/53590

746,048 words #Complete Series Rewrite #Slytherin Harry

Just one conversation between two eleven year old boys goes slightly differently, and the world changes. Just how much will be different with Harry being sorted into Slytherin, and how much will stay the same?

***Saving Connor Series by Lightning on The Wave https://www.fanfiction.net/u/895946/Lightning-on-the-Wave

3,069,375 words

Harry's twin Connor is the Boy Who Lived, and Harry is devoted to protecting him by making himself look ordinary. But certain people won't let Harry stay in the shadows...

***Survival is a Talent by ShanaStoryteller https://archiveofourown.org/works/12006417/chapters/27167826

338,714+words #WIP #soulmates #POC

In the middle of their second year, Draco and Harry discover they're soulmates and do their best to keep it a secret from everyone. Their best isn't perfect.

***Freedom To Be by Quicksilvermaid https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052705/chapters/37477826

169, 550words #COMPLETE #BDSM

Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived.12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends.Only nothing feels perfect.Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

***Brother to Basilisks by Lomonaaeren https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435531/chapters/5393471

595,688+ words AU of PoA. Harry wakes in the night to a voice calling him from somewhere in the castle—and when he follows it, everything changes

***Reparations by Saras_Girl https://archiveofourown.org/works/879599/chapters/1692075

87,376 words #Healer Harry

Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

***Secrets by Vorabiza https://archiveofourown.org/works/8184311/chapters/18751001

395,365 words Beginning with Draco's unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry's summer after sixth year becomes filled with activity and many secrets. As his summer progresses, Harry generates several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of the Light side.

***Being a Veelas Mate by Chereche https://archiveofourown.org/works/7524595/chapters/17103607

399,867words Draco comes into his veela nature early when his mate's life is in danger. Will their unique bond be enough to finally bring peace to the wizarding world?

***All Life is Your to Miss by Saras_Girl https://archiveofourown.org/works/825875/chapters/1568057

114,741words #Professor Harry

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

***Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 https://archiveofourown.org/works/473335/chapters/819506

302,209 words Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness

HINNY

***A Second Chance by Breanie https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237082/chapters/37957664

1,714,567 words #WIP

What if Sirius didn't spent twelve years in prison, but was given a trial after four years? Follow the story of Sirius Black as he learns what it means to be a father/brother/guardian to his young godson & the story of Harry Potter, a young boy with a loving home who learns about the Marauders from the two men who should have raised him. M for later. Eventual Hinny.

JEDDY

***Couldn’t Get Better They Say by JadePresley https://archiveofourown.org/works/14119629/chapters/32535660

78,611 words #NoMagic #TextingFic

A boy texts the wrong number late one night. Another boy replies. Chaos ensues. Or, The one where James is too caught up in his career to be the person he wants to be, Teddy drinks too much to avoid his past, Albus wears terrible hats, Lily is a badass, and Gavin is the star of the show.

***Chances by TheProdigyPenguin https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166652/chapters/50379941

78,761words #COMPLETE

Teddy has lived in France with his grandmother for his entire life, living unaware of his past or the significance of his parent's lives, cut short at the end of the war. He lives blissfully ignorant of the life he was meant to have in England, until his grandmother dies shortly after his twenty-seventh birthday, and the discovery of letters written by an estranged godfather he never knew he had leads him back to his families home, searching for answers but in the end finding more than he'd ever expected or hoped.

SCORBUS

***Its Tea Time by Ellizablue https://archiveofourown.org/series/538465

872,002+ #WIP #Trilogy

SEVERITUS

***Blood by Lord of Chaos https://archiveofourown.org/works/3089927/chapters/6696266

466,835words Harry's sent reeling when he learns that Professor Snape is his bio dad, and if that were all he had to deal with, he'd probably be all right, but he's got werewolves, escaped convicts, a stubborn Dark Lord, and his own inner demons to deal with. Starts third year. Rating mostly for violence. Story deals with mental health, bigotry and child abuse.

***Digging for bones by paganaidd https://archiveofourown.org/works/598019/chapters/1078847

203,178 words

Rather than allowing Harry to stay at Diagon Alley after he blew up Aunt Marge, the Ministry sends Harry back to the Dursleys. Harry returns to school after a terrible summer, to find that he's not the only one with this kind of secret. A student has been killed by his family. New screening measures are put into place by the Ministry: Every student must be given a medical exam and interview to look for child abuse. With Dumbledore facing an inquiry, Snape is entrusted with the task of making sure EVERYONE receives one.

***Broken Mind Series by SensiblyTainted https://archiveofourown.org/works/8873683/chapters/20344381

864,245 words #Mental Health Issues #Multiple Personaity Disorder #Abuse

Harry Potter watched his mother die when he was fifteen months old, a piece of Voldemort's soul invaded his own, Vernon abused him, Petunia tore him to shreds with her hateful words, and Lockhart molested him throughout Second-year. After all that trauma, is it any wonder Harry created multiple personalities to deal with it all? In Harry's third year, Severus Snape decides to do something about it. He gives Harry therapy in secret, and this opens Harry up to a friendship with Neville Longbottom, another victim of Lockhart's perversions, and Draco Malfoy who can understand Harry's Slytherin alter better than anyone else.

***A Year Like None Other by aspeninthesunlight https://archiveofourown.org/works/742072/chapters/1382061

789,589 words

A letter from home? A letter from family? Well, Harry Potter knows he has neither, but all the same, it starts with a letter from Surrey. Whatever the Durleys have to say, it can't be anything good, so Harry's determined to ignore it. But then, his evil schoolmate rival spots the letter and his slimy excuse for a teacher intercepts it and forces him to read it. And that sends Harry down a path he'd never have walked on his own.

SNARRY

***Gift of Kindness by Hippocrates460 https://archiveofourown.org/works/14656377/chapters/33859731

105,872words #COMPLETE #soulmates #courting rituals

When Harry arrives at Hogwarts, everything is overwhelming. Luckily he makes some friends, Hagrid who took him to Diagon Alley, Ron who he met on the train, and Severus, who explains why they have to pretend to hate each other. This story spans 7 years, during which Severus and Harry get to know each other and find understanding.

TOMARRY

***Descent into Darkness by Athey https://www.wattpad.com/story/179650625-harry-potter-and-the-descent-into-darkness

https://www.wattpad.com/684682449-harry-potter-and-the-breeding-darkness-prologue

It's Harry's 4th year at Hogwarts and his name has just come out of the Goblet of Fire. Everyone has abandoned him and he feels utterly alone. Through an accident Harry and the piece of Voldemort's soul that resides inside him begin to interact and Harry slowly begins to change. He becomes stronger and more aware, and slowly grows aware of a more sinister course of events that has perpetuated his entire life.

WOLFSTAR

***Sweater weather by lumosinlove

74,493words+ #WIP #NoMagicAU Remus works for the Gryffindor Lions as a physical trainer, and has been half in love with Sirius Black, the Lions' heartthrob captain, for a while now, but he never expected Sirius to return the feelings. Read if you like cute nicknames, slow burn, and pining. Yep. That's it.

***Soltnse by lumosinlove https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186087/chapters/40408559

61,997 words #COMPLETE #NoMagicAU Sirius, a young Russian billionaire hires Remus, who is working part time as a call boy to make ends meet. Things happen, feelings occur

***Text Talk by merlywhirls https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651109/chapters/3501239

141,250 words #NoMagicAU

Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

***Casting Moonshadows by moonsign https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3378356/1/Casting-Moonshadows

393,500 words #WIP #ANGST

Lonely and outcast by his classmates, Remus wishes on a moonshadow for a friend who understands him. To his amazement his wish is not only answered once, but three times by his former enemies, the Marauders.

***Of Leaves and Stars by irrationalmoony, lady amina https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535114/chapters/14950924

266,476words #Texting Fic #WIP

Almost a year out of Hogwarts, Lily finally manages to convince Sirius and James to get more acquainted with muggle technology and buy phones. Sirius, of course, texts the wrong number.

RANDOM PAIRINGS

Harry/Sirius/Remus:

***To See The Human Soul Take Wing by Maeglin Yedi 227,394 words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007970/chapters/1999281

#Werewolf Harry #Friendly Vampires This is actually the 3rd

book in the series, but it can be read as a standalone.

Harry's final year at Hogwarts is filled with secrets, old enemies and new threats. Unable to share his current life with his friends, Harry has to put his faith in the unlikeliest of allies to find a way to defeat Voldemort while his love for Sirius and Remus is repeatedly put to the test.

Hermione/Sirius

***Debt of Time by Shayalonnie

https://archiveofourown.org/series/760443

715,940 words #COMPLETE #Time Travel

When Hermione finds a way to bring Sirius back from the veil, her actions change the rest of the war. Little does she know her spell restoring him to life provokes magic she doesn't understand and sets her on a path that ends with a Time-Turner.

Severus Snape/OMC

*** Of A Linear Circle by flamethrower

https://archiveofourown.org/series/755028

1,428,885words #WIP #Long Series #Time Travel

In September of 1971, Severus Snape finds a forgotten portrait of the Slytherin family in a dark corner of the Slytherin Common Room. At the time, he has no idea that talking portrait will affect the rest of his life.

Harry/Theo/Charlie/OMCs

***There Be Dragons Harry by Scioneeris

https://archiveofourown.org/works/485605/chapters/845701

919,721words #WIP #Creature Inheritance

Harem!Fic Harry inherits a creature "thing" from both sides of his parents and somehow that leads to weird sleeping habits, conversations with Theodore Nott and finding himself caught up in a world of Dragons, elemental powers and new creatures he's never heard of before. Dragons? Mates? Very AU. Contains all kinds of slash.

Scorpius/Rose

***Ignite by Slide (JustSlide)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6470272/chapters/14810293

191,497 words

A mysterious illness leaving a handful of uninfected. A school in quarantine, isolated from the outside world. Danger on all sides, striking seemingly at random. And, at the heart of it all, Scorpius Malfoy, the only man to believe this is a part of a wider, dangerous plot

***Raindrops on Roses by backinyourbox

https://archiveofourown.org/works/373224/chapters/608435

301,383 words

Beginning immediately after the Epilogue, this story follows Scorpius, Rose and Albus through their Hogwarts years and beyond. Childish fears and desires soon turn to more serious dilemmas as some members of the Ravenclaw trio are forced to grow up too soon. Albus wants to be remembered for being something other than Harry Potter's son. Scorpius knows his father expects him to follow in his footsteps, but how long can he keep his friends, his music and his OWL in Muggle Studies a secret? And Rose has yet to decide what she wants...

Harry Potter/George Weasley Looking Beyond by Shini_amaryllis

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3178778/chapters/6905645

674,719 #COMPLETE #FEM!Harry

The first thing everyone noticed about Hope Potter was that she may have had her mother's face, but she had her father's penchant for causing trouble or somehow finding it. It only made sense that she would fall for a prankster, and it only made sense that danger was attracted to her very scent. Somehow, she was going to prove she was more than just the Girl-Who-Lived

Harry Potter/Avengers Crossover

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1369690/chapters/2902480

324570 #Loki is Harrys Dad #Just Read it I promise its great

In the several millennia he had existed Loki Odinson, Norse God of Mischief and Lies, had been many things, he had been a liar, a warrior, and a trickster, just to name a few, but never before, in his thousands of years of existence had he been a loving father, but all it took was a single glance at the perfect little creature before him and he knew, he was gone.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #drarry #scorbus #jeddy #snarry #severitus #hinny #Marauders #wolfstar #cursed child #tomarry

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

roommates au for ironhawk (tony/clint) if u like them thank u

Clint Barton swore to himself. He didn’t actually think that they’d stick him with Stark as a roommate for the training course.

It wasn’t that he disliked him. It’s just that…well. Tony Stark wasn’t really known for his skill.

He was known for being a rule-breaker. A serial party guy. And someone who didn’t exactly fit SHIELD standards.

There was the common theory that daddy bought him in. Wanted his son to have the distinctive bragging rights that SHIELD training gave.

Higher-ups had already told Tony that he was not to receive special treatment.

“If I wanted any I would’ve talked to the US military recruitment officers,” Tony snarks back.

Clint nods at that. At least he knows he won’t be getting any preferential treatment.

But knowing and experiencing are two very different things.

Clint also doesn’t want to get into trouble. He was already a bit of an oddball; they had brought him in from a failing circus where he was hailed as the best marksman in all of North America. (And if he really wanted to brag, probably in most of Europe as well.)

Most everyone else has been in training since they were young. Or they know the right people.

Both he and Stark are alienated a bit.

Tony, quite frankly, doesn’t give a singular shit about how many people steal what meager dessert he gets from the cafeteria.

“Yeah, yeah, go take my pudding cup and fuck right off,” Tony says to Rumlow. “I’m sure that your CO will simply love the extra sweets you’re gonna put into yourself right before we run.”

Tony gets pudding thrown into his hair. A couple of flicks land on Clint’s shirt.

“Barton, why hang out with the rich kid? Hoping he pays your way in?” Rumlow sneers.

Clint would like people to pay for many things. But he doesn’t ask and he doesn’t hope because he likes earning his own shit, and most of all this position in SHIELD.

He earns a trip to the office of Director Fury when he lands a clean upper-cut to Rumlow’s jaw. The guy cries. Clint scoffs.

“He’ll pay for your funeral when we kill you at the obstacle course,” Clint says. “Tony, let’s get going.”

Tony looks impressed to say the least.

“Well damn, Barton. I didn’t even think you tolerated me.”

“I’ve tolerated worse.”

“I don’t know whether to like that or know that I could have the potential to be terrible.”

“Let’s get going. I’ll hang back just in case I get called.”

“You will. Might as well walk to Hill’s office now. I’ll steal you an extra dinner roll.”

“Thanks, man.”

Clint is early for one thing in his life, and it is this meeting with Fury.

Fury looks at him over one eye, a black eye-patch on the other one. That is new. Very new.

“What happened to your eye?”

“I trusted somebody.”

“Hill finally get you?”

Fury doesn’t laugh. Clint does. It’s habitual, part of being nervous.

“I understand that you punched Rumlow in the face?”

“Yes sir. Couldn’t control my temper.”

“Rumlow shouldn’t have been a little shit,” Fury says, snorting. “Don’t tell him that. He’s Pierce’s problem, thank god. Tell them I whooped your ass. Because I did. But I don’t give a shit what goes on so long as you get away with it.”

Fury will come to regret these words in many instances, including one about four years later when Tony steals a coffee machine during a mission. But that’s ofur years from now.

Clint gets back to training. Says he got roasted within an inch of his life.

“You’re a shit liar,” Tony says.

“Dude has an eye-patch now. Said it’s because he trusted somebody.”

“Fury doesn’t even trust Girl Scout cookies, there’s no way he trusts an actual living human,” Tony says. “We have to find out.”

Tony and Clint bond over two things:

1.) They both feel terribly out of sync with everyone else because they are funny and also are not used to anything due to life experiences.

2.) They are underestimated.

Everyone thinks Clint has no fucking clue what’s going on. He’s spacey, most often forgets anything in the morning but coffee, and turned in one of their practice reports in green ink. Maria Hill nearly had an aneurysm.

Tony is the rich kid who everyone thinks bought his way in and has only passed due to Benjamins or higher.

Tony has not, because his dad actually hates that he’s in training and his mother thinks that he’s at an elite boarding school that Howard chose. They also happen to think that due to media presence, that is who he is.

They can use their skills to advantage. Clint sees more than what people want and Tony knows more than what people want.

They pair up for a mission. The objective is to rescue a hostage in under twenty minutes.

The pairing before them has Rumlow, who is incredibly smug about how he incapacitated the attackers with brute force and rescued the hostage in ten minutes.

“Beat that,” Rumlow says.

“What’s the money?” Clint asks.

“Two hundred bucks,” Rumlow says. “Lookin’ to take a girl out on a nice date.”

“Hope you tell her you might have to cancel,” Tony says.

They finish in four minutes.

Tony disarms security in one minute, Clint paintballs the attack team in a matter of moments, and the hardest part is untying the agent acting as the hostage.

Clint tosses the rope to Rumlow.

“Tell your date you’ve gotten tied up at the moment and to take a rain check. You also owe us a hundred each. We’re nice like that.”

When it comes to partnering, Clint has to deny the opportunity to team up with Tony.

“And why would that be? You both get along reasonably well,” Maria says. “Hell, you still beat records that were set decades back.”

“Well usually SHIELD doesn’t like relationships to be part of partnership,” Clint says. “And to use the worst term possible, I’m banging Tony like a goddamn screendoor.”

“I detest you every single day,” Maria says. “But noted. Tell Phil that I owe him fifty when you go out, okay?”

Clint laughs.

“Will do, Maria.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Clint slinks back into their apartment, dropping keys in the bowl on the counter and leaning over the couch to give his boyfriend a kiss.

“How much money did Phil owe?”

“Fifty. We got him good. Also, Fury said no to the possibility of a cat scratch. I think there’s more to that, though.”

“He’s lying,” Tony says. “I bet if we found an agent he worked with then we could probably figure out the truth.”

“Phil and Maria both won’t tell us, we’re screwed,” Clint says with a sigh.

“Then we’ll just have to try Danvers,” Tony says, teasing.

He pulls his boyfriend over the couch.

“Ugh, I was gonna get coffee.”

“Not your fucking death wish type caffeinated shit,” Tony says. “You already had a morning cup. I refuse it. I’ll make you tea.”

“Tea tastes disgusting.”

“Hush, the only tea you ever had was when we stayed at that shitty motel.”

“Still. Don’t like it. It’s like they forgot to flavor hot water for a moment.”

“I’m going to kick your ass and make you love herbal tea.”

(Tony succeeds in this.)

No one actually knows of Tony’s history in SHIELD. Or that he’s dating Hawkeye. He usually works in the offices or on updating the computers, which SHIELD always needs.

Natasha blinks after a mission that went on for a month. She sees the ever-elusive tech, who embraces Clint in a hug. Clint takes it one step farther and dips Tony into a kiss.

“You’re so dramatic,” Tony grumbles. “By the way, your asshole dog misses you.”

“Lucky?! Aw, I knew you kept him,” Clint teases.

“He ate your pizza. I got him dog food and chipped. He’s as much a disaster as you are.”

“I…did not see this coming,” Natasha says.

“Heh, maybe I can surprise you,” Clint says, smiling. “Nat, this is Tony. My boyfriend. Also the best employee here.”

“Even better than Phil?”

“Who do you think enables his caffeine addiction?” Tony asks. “And who can get you good soup and catering?”

“I will do literally whatever you want if you can get me good food,” Natasha says. “Or good coffee.”

“I’ll set something up for next week,” Tony says. “For now, I’m dragging my man home and not letting him leave for the entire weekend.”

“Now that I’m not opposed to,” Clint says, tugging on his shirt. “Bye Nat!”

There’s a maniacal cackle as Clint tickles Tony, who responds in kind by signing “fuck you” at Clint.

#lovelyirony writes #roommates au #tony stark #clint barton #ironhawk #tonyclint #hawkeye #iron man #maria hill #director fury #phil coulson #natasha romanoff #brock rumlow but only for like two minutes #only enough for me to make fun of that little bitch

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becksfm · 4 years

Text

hey CASEY “BECK” BECKHAM , welcome to dillon university . has anyone ever told you you’re GAVIN LEATHERWOOD’s twin ? no ? well okay , i heard you are TWENTY - TWO & a JUNIOR at the university . we hope BIOCHEMISTRY isn’t kicking your ass too much , especially since you’re a STUDENT PHYSICAL TRAINER . see you at the next game, BECK & character’s cismale + he/him .

it’s me & i’m here for round fuckin’ two , friends . this time i bring you resident GOLDEN BOY . . . a whole 6′1 of soft boy energy . . . floppy overgrown curls . . . king of talking - your - way - out - of - everything . . . retired hockey player . . . a man of Many Talents , of which the most astounding is his ability to look like he’s got it all together when , in fact , he does not ! under the cut , you’ll find a lil more about him . . . & if you wanna plot hmu @ 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣#9956 on discord or pop into my ims here !!

𝑩 𝑨 𝑪 𝑲 𝑮 𝑹 𝑶 𝑼 𝑵 𝑫 .

dillon , texas born & raised . on the outskirts of town is a ranch that is enough to house the beckham family: mom, dad, and all eight beckham children . beck is the second oldest , with one older sister , four younger sisters , and two younger brothers . . . not necessarily in that order .

mother , sophia mattheson - beckham is a lawyer based in austin working with the ACLU , and father , michael beckham has a small private practice in dillon working as a pediatrician . they weren’t home often , but when they were , they spent as much time with the kiddos as possible . it’s just . . . they were so rarely home that it really didn’t matter.

with the beckham name, though, comes the pressure to be SOMETHING GREAT , and that’s something that’s been a part of beck’s life since . . . he can remember . little league & kindergarten grades were always taken a little too seriously , and it didn’t help that his older sister was a shining example of perfection .

growing up it was hard not to like him. he was quiet for the most part , but goofy when he wasn’t . there was a little extra charm about him that just gave him an all around magnetic pull . kids wanted to be his friend and he wanted to be theirs . he fit in , but around home , he was the odd man out . beck was always a little more interested in sports rather than math or music rather than reading . it wasn’t to say he wasn’t smart , it just kind of –– bored him?? where his family was v

there was give and take with beck–– the golden boy of dillon but the black sheep of the family . he could play hockey if he kept his grades up. he could take guitar if he was also on student government and model u.n.. his parents would applaud him on his grades but never cared to hear him play; they’d show up for debates but rarely ever saw a hockey game. it was touch and go, his relationship with them, and it still is.

DESPITE IT ALL though, you wouldn’t catch him complaining. he bore the crown of homecoming king his senior year and never went to a dance without a date. teachers loved him, so did his coaches. he found a best friend in one cameron sloane –– ( because of course he did ) –– when the sloanes moved to dillon , and they were an unstoppable kind’a duo on and off the ice.

when it came time to pick a college, he really . . . had his pick of the lot. coulda gone anywhere, but there were roughly six reasons , all with the same last name , that kept him close to home. his parents even agreed that if he went in as pre-med, they would pay for the whole thing . . . and even make time to watch him play hockey.

things were good for a long while, until they weren’t. you can usually see the stars on the outskirts of dillon, but one night, his sophomore year, you couldn’t. storm clouds covered ‘em up, and he tried his damndest to get cameron to stick around a celebratory party until it passed, but sloanes are stubborn and there was no changing his mind.

cam passing away was like losing a brother, and he spent countless hours pacing in a hospital waiting room . . . hoping for good news and never getting it. beck had never known loss like that, and it knocked him into a bit of a tailspin . he quit hockey and didn’t register for school the next year . he spent a lot of time at a family residence in austin and even more time drinking . for the most part . . . he kind of DISAPPEARED , losing himself in the process for a good nine months.

they say it takes a village to raise a kid, and it took a village to drag this one out of a spiral. his parents. his siblings. his friends. and eventually . . . dillon’s football coaching staff. a loud knock on the door from coach buchanan and a swift kick in the ass from coach sloane, a man who knew the kid almost as well as he’d known his own son. come work for us, they told him . . . and it was a way to get him back on track under a watchful eye that. wasn’t quite as critical as his parents

so that’s where we are now . . . back at dillon, a year behind, and working with both the football and cheerleading team as a physical trainer, playing a heavy hand in making sure both teams are the best conditioned in the state of texas. his grades are looking up, and he’s still on the fast track for med school, much to his –– and his parents’s –– surprise.

the beckhams don’t talk about his little stint of a spiral. no one in dillon does . . . unless in tones of hushed whispers alongside judgmental looks. beck doesn’t mind it too much ,though . . . even takes it as a challenge

𝑷 𝑬 𝑹 𝑺 𝑶 𝑵 𝑨 𝑳 𝑰 𝑻 𝒀 . ( i’m getting tired so this gon be ugly )

you want inspo?? i’ll give ya inspo!! richard campbell gansey the third ( dick 3 babiiiie ) is my main inspo for beck. you’ll also find a lil bit of jim halpert, a lil bit of rob maclanahan from miracle ( even tho he w as a real person too shhh ), and *insert big eyed emoji here* grizz from the society

ever since he can remember, there’s been pressure on this kid to be something great . . . so he feels like if he has the capability to do something, he has to do it. . . there’s no choice in the matter. a lot of this stems. from his parents, but he’s also really just . . . overly critical of himself sometimes

boy is a fucking PARADOX okay bc sometimes . . . . with the way he talks. . . . he accidentally puts his damn foot in his mouth . he’s smart so occasionally comes off as condescending , but he’s . . . incredible in conversation with people he needs to impress because he’s hella charming

that said... this quote is REALLY important and REALLY summative of beck: “Gansey had always felt as if there were two of him: the Gansey who was in control, able to handle any situation, able to talk to anyone, and then, the other, more fragile Gansey, strung out and unsure, embarrassingly earnest, driven by naive longing.” –– let’s dive into that!! when he feels like he’s got a sense of control of the things around him, when he’s in his element or in his comfort zone, when he’s feeling confident , the boy is a force. he can talk you and anyone else out of any situation, and he has. he can make friends with anyone put in front of him, and he has. when beck is ON . . . he is on . . . but it’s a bit surface level because when he’s not wearing the crown of GOLDEN BOY and he’s . . . vulnerable . . . or unsure . . . or stressed . . . he tends to put that foot of his in his mouth and spit. out whatever it is he’s thinking. he’s honest to a fault in this sense, and he’s hopeful beyond compare.

an introvert. . . . can CHARM u but doesn’t want to because honestly that is so draining and he’d much rather be at home. the popular type but only has a few friends that are really really close to him

loyal to a fault . . . will give you 392847 chances that you don’t deserve .. fool me once shame on you ! fool me twice shame on me! fool me three time what the fuck bro now ur just taking advantage of me

very . .. calm and even tempered. he’s a mediating type and like . . would rather find a conflict resolution than sWING u feel me

he’s cute. .. . and. people love him but . . . despite it all, he really doesn’t let that go to his head?? the boy was raised to believe you had to earn things and he’s just. idk . . .. humble king

eloquent as fuck ( lol good luck @ me writing that shit )

quick witted and very sharp

probably a lawful good type ngl :\

Does Not Do Well.With Change. when his older sister left dillon to go to notre dame??? boy damn near blew a gasket how dARE SHE go that far away!!!

v close with his sibs . .. . activate Dad Mode. he loves all of them equally and definitely does not at all favor the 10 y/o baby brother of the family or his sister closest in age, who is also a student at dillon. doesn’t favor them ONE BIT

u want a vibe for the beckhams??? “ the beckhams were courtiers and kings . when there was no castle to invite them, they built one” ( we stan ONE weird author lady named maggie)

insomnia!! the boy nEVER SLEEPS1! always thinking. always planning what’s next. gotta go gotta go gotta go.

kind of .. . a hopeless romantic :\ dated the same girl for most of high school but when she fucked off to ole miss she broke up with him in a text. so that .. . . . .. went well for him ..... still a dumb bitch tho and would love to hold ur hand

wire rimmed glasses, wool sweaters, light colored hoodies, distressed denim, cuffed pants, :\ chelsea boots :\

phobia of bees. there’s literally no reason for this other than my own, personal, geeked out pleasure

prank king

Smart Jock Type

plays guitar to relieve stress and you bet baby’s got some pipes here u go

literally nothing like nicholas scratch DO NOT call him daddy

tall and doesn’t know what to do with all the extra limb like . . . . . the fuck

will push you to your personal best in any conditioning circumstance

okay I THINK THAT’S ALL . . .. i’m a big fan of basic plots that kinda ebb and flow with chemistry BUT!! gimme the basics man . . . a roommate . . . a past hookup or two . . . some spicy friendships or . . . fRENEMIES even u know the drill

ok that’s all i hope u love him bc i am v nervous about playing A Man buT IT IS WHAT IT IS U KNOW

#if this doesn't scream chaotic idk what does #friday:intro

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aziraamane · 5 years

Text

Human AU - Part 6

This fic now has a name! I’ll be calling it “All the Better Part of Me” when it finally goes up onto AO3 - because I spent far too much time reading Shakespeare’s sonnets to call it anything else.

(Previous) - (First)

"Is Warlock coming today?" Adam asked, again.

"Yup," Crowley said, popping the 'p.' He tightened his knees around Adam, holding him in place as he dragged a brush through the squirming boy's hair. "Hold still, you little devil."

"'Nath'ma does it nicer!"

"Do you?" Crowley glowered up at Anathema, comfortable on the sofa; she winked at him from behind her coffee mug.

"Maybe."

"You do it, then," Crowley muttered, Adam still wriggling on the carpet.

"Sorry, can't. I'm off the clock for another, oh, two minutes seventeen seconds."

"I hate you."

"Aww, if I weren't being paid extra tonight, I'd hate you, too, Mr Grumpy."

The doorbell rang at that point, and Adam shot up from Crowley's grip to answer it. With the sudden loss of nephew, Crowley looked at the brush in his hand, shrugged, and began to neaten his own hair.

No dirt smudged his cheeks today. He’d prepared for guests this time, scrubbed clean and sporting his casual ensemble of tight-fitting, black v-neck tee and even tighter-fitting black jeans. His sunglasses were off, but Anathema was already handing them to him as he contemplated slipping them back on, and he went with the safer option of wearing them.

Warlock came running into the room, all smiles, Adam trailing behind. "Hello!" he announced.

"Hey, kiddo," Crowley grinned, chucking the hairbrush over his shoulder.

"I gots, uh, cookies in my bag. They got chocolate in them."

"Oh, dear. The womens' mags get mad at me if I don't watch my waistline." Crowley patted his belly with a wink, sticking out his tongue at Warlock, who laughed.

"Come off it, my dear. If anything you could afford to put on a few pounds." Ezra appeared in the doorway, holding Warlock's jacket.

A flood of warmth suffused Crowley's face at his arrival, along with a starburst of a smile. "Hey, angel."

"Hello, Anthony. Thank you so much for agreeing to take Warlock for the night."

"What are friends for, eh?" He slithered to his feet, joints cracking. "Got time for a drink?"

Ezra shook his head. "I'm afraid not, I must dash off again - do keep in touch, though, won't you? I haven't actually left Warlock with anybody before…"

"Don't worry, he's in good hands with Ana."

For seemingly the first time since he walked in, Ezra noticed Anathema. "Ah! Miss Device! I didn't see you down there. How are you?"

"Good, thanks, Ezra." She flashed a look at Crowley that could only speak of triumph before addressing Ezra again, "I promise I'll contact you if anything comes up, okay? Relax a little."

"Thank you." A little weight seemed to leave Ezra's shoulders. "Well...must go, then." He gestured to Warlock, roughhousing with Adam, and the boy wobbled over, beaming. They came together in a long embrace, Ezra pressing kisses over Warlock's rosy cheeks. "Be on your best behaviour, darling," Crowley heard him whisper, "but if you feel lonely or - or sad - or just need to talk, then-"

"Ezra~" Crowley sing-songed, tapping his watch.

"U-Um. Yes. Quite." Ezra's eyes were overly shiny when he pulled back, though Warlock just giggled and skipped off to play with Adam again. Ezra got to his feet, brushed down his already perfectly smooth trousers. "Well, then. I...I'll be going."

It was clear the man was utterly miserable. He didn't at all want to go to dinner with his siblings. He didn't want to leave his son behind. He didn't like being out of his comfort zone.

Dammit, he was so cute.

"Come on, angel." Crowley threw an arm round Ezra's shoulders and steered him firmly, but not unkindly, towards the front door. "S’only a few hours, it'll fly by before you know it." He'd been at enough parties to know that that was a complete lie, but at that moment he'd do anything to wipe the despair off of Ezra's rapidly paling face. "Won't be long before the kids are asleep, anyway, and they won't be getting up to much mischief when they're out for the count. So relax. I reckon you've earned some time off from being dad."

Ezra blinked his big, watery eyes up at Crowley, and his bottom lip finally stopped trembling. "Oh, thank you," he whispered. "I've just been fretting so much about all this. It's terrifying, Anthony."

"Only as terrifying as you make it, angel. Now go, go on, put on a few pounds in my place, you deserve it!" With a final comforting pat on the back, Crowley urged Ezra through the front door and closed it with a snap.

A long, low huff of breath whooshed from his lungs as he turned, leaning his back against the cool wood. Eyes trained on the ceiling, he sighed. Poor guy's got a lot on his shoulders.

Anathema was staring at him from the living room doorway when he looked back, her expression a picture of utter glee. "What?" snapped Crowley.

She giggled. "You called him angel! Oh, Anthony! How didn't I twig beforehand? You fancy him!"

Crowley folded his arms. "I'm not having this conversation with you, Ana."

"You're blushing."

"I'm walking away now."

"You're a soppy git!"

"I will fire your ass, I swear to fucking-"

From somewhere in the living room, Warlock gasped, "Your uncle said a swear!"

~*~

The meal was a sumptuous affair. If anything good could be said about the collective Fells, it was that they were marvellous cooks, and Michaela in particular had an excellent eye for wine pairings. Ezra sat on Uriel's left, Sandy to his right, and together they laughed and joked as they feasted. Wine flowed like water, and his stomach was full, his head pleasantly buzzing, and he wondered whatever had he been so worried about?

Until Gabriel cleared his throat, suddenly business-like.

"I told Ezra about the lecturer's position opening," he told Sandy.

"Ah." The youngest Fell brother, Sandalphon - Sandy for short - was chaplain at King’s; a short, balding man with garish gold fillings in his teeth and a tendency to speak with a slight sneer. He turned now to Ezra, looking expectant. "And?"

Ezra coughed, reaching for his wine. "I have no plans to alter my career at present, Sandy. I'm quite content where I am."

The looks of pity they all gave him was enough to make his food sit heavy in his stomach, and no longer pleasantly at that.

"What a shame," Sandy sighed. "And you were doing so well for yourself."

"It was my choice, and my choice alone, to leave the teaching profession."

"And we were all very sad for you when you left," Uriel chipped in. She was dark-skinned and dark-eyed, deceptively sweet-looking, and at twenty-four years old, the youngest of them all. Beside her, Michaela, with her rigid pose and coif of short brown curls, steepled her fingers under her chin and leaned in slightly, listening but remaining silent.

The ever-present familial frustration that simmered in Ezra's blood began heating. "I appreciate everybody's concern," he said, stiff and mechanical, "but I wish you would trust me a little more to make my life decisions by myself."

"Ezra, you graduated from school and started out as a gardener, for Heaven's sake," Sandy retorted.

"And that profession led to my eventually being allowed to adopt Warlock, may his birth parents rest in peace. You of all people, Sandalphon, ought to have more respect."

“Oy vey…” Sandy pressed a hand to his brow.

Uriel patted Ezra’s hand. "We just can't help but worry about you," she said, sickly sweet.

"Why?" he snapped. "Because I am not intent on following our parents into their overworked graves, the way you are all doing?" Angrily, he swiped his mouth with a napkin, dropped it to his plate, and pushed himself to standing. "Every time we come together I hope that something will have changed. Every time, I am disappointed. So pray excuse my rudeness, but I will take my leave now - I have family more deserving of my time waiting for me."

He made for the door, stopped, strode back to the table and grabbed an unopened bottle of wine. "I'm taking this,” he told Gabriel. “I can happily suggest where to shove it if you object."

He thought he saw Michaela smirk behind her hands, the rest seemingly stunned into silence.

"Thank you for the meal, but as for the rest, thanks for nothing. Toodle-pip!"

#tia-lew writes #fanfiction #good omens #ineffable husbands #slow burn #aziraphale #crowley #anathema device #adam young #warlock dowling #archangel gabriel #archangel uriel #archangel michael #archangel sandalphon #archangel fucking gabriel #work in progress #fanfic excerpt

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daughters-and-winsisters · 5 years

Text

Huntress- Part 21: Realignment

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E21 so warning:SPOILERS

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen Part Twenty

Sam and Dean didn’t bother knocking. They swung the motel door open, distraught and desperate. Sam was quieter than usual, panicked. And Dean was angry. Since the last hunt, Y/N had been missing. They’d ran after Max to help him out and when they came back to the Impala, where Sam had last seen her, she was gone. The boys sought their Mother for help, but the motel room was empty.

The brothers shared a look of fear. “Dean, Y/N’s gone. And now Mom’s gone…I don’t-“ “Sammy, look at me,” Dean ordered, “we’re gonna find them. We will.” Sam nodded at his brother, his phone's rings breaking the silence. “Hey Jody,” he answered, “No…no I hadn’t heard…oh God…what happened? Alright…well thanks for telling me. See ya.” “What happened?” Dean asked, picking at the pieces of paper on the desk. “Eileen…she got mauled to death by an animal, supposedly. But she wasn’t in Ireland.” “So she was running from something?” Dean said. “I guess,” Sam shrugged, “That’s like the third Hunter death in two weeks. That can’t be a coincidence.” “Well if Mom’s not on the road she’s usually bunking with the Brits, but Mick’s not answering his calls still…” “Maybe call Ketch?” Sam suggested, hating those words but knowing it was necessary. He watched Dean reluctantly take his phone, his mind elsewhere. If anything had happened to his girl…or his Mom…he wouldn’t know what to do.

“Hey Ketch it’s Dean…Winchester! Right well we’re looking for Mom, have u seen her? I’m not being rude! Listen, I don’t want a manners lesson I just wanna speak to my Mom!” he sighed angrily and hugged an, “Alright…bye.” “Any luck?” Sam asked. He was fidgeting with his phone, flipping it in his hands nervously. “Said he hasn’t heard from her in weeks,” Dean said bitterly, “but they had a case a few days back so he’s definitely lying.” “Chances are whatever’s happened to Mom has happened to Y/N.” Sam nodded.“Let’s go.”

_______________________________________________________________

Sam stared down at Eileen’s body, holding back tears. He bit his lip and looked away, down at his hands where they shook. He’d lost a friend and he was scared he’d lost a daughter. “Seven Hunter deaths.” Dean mumbled.

“And those are just the ones we know about.” Sam nodded.“So what, did monsters start working together?”

“Dean, we know that demons and monsters don’t just team up,” Sam began, starting to panic, “this is something else. No one’s heard from Mom, Cas is missing and we have no idea where the hell Y/N is! Ketch is lying to us and Mick won’t pick up the damn phone! I- I wanna punch something in the face!”

“Good,” Dean said blankly, “hold on to that. Use it.” Dean glanced at Eileen before adding, “If this is a hell hound then we know what that means.”

________________________________________________________________

You blinked awake, taking a good few seconds to gather your surroundings. It was cold. You were hooked up to some sort of IV drip looking machine, with needles jabbed into your hands. You sat up and looked about the room, immediately recognising it as Men of Letters. It was where they had attempted to realign you, where they had injected you with some sort of brainwashing fluid, only it hadn’t worked on you for reasons unknown. The room was large and circular, whitewashed walls with metallic greys to separate the clinical look. There was the bed, the machinery and the door. It was locked shut. There was also a camera in the top right corner. There were footsteps outside every now and then.Your head was aching, but you felt okay so you tore the needles from their grips in your veins, wincing a little as they came out, before tossing them aside. The door handle twisted and you adjusted so you were sat perched on the side, legs swinging beneath.

In walked Toni. Brilliant.

“Ah, Brooks. Long time no see.” Despite the greeting she looked cold and showed no emotion, not even her usual pride. “Alright?” You said, not sure what else to say or do. She stared for a little while, so you reluctantly added, “What happened?” “You were already out cold on the grass, unconscious and ready for the taking. You could have died so really you should be thanking us.” “I could have died?” “Yes. Your brain activity was fluctuating significantly. And your heart was barely beating. So now it’s my turn to ask you, what happened?” “Why should I tell you?” You spat. Truth was, you had no idea what had happened. You’d had another wave of pain and that was all you could remember. Toni smiled ever so slightly, “Just as I suspected. You have no idea what’s happening, do you?”You examined her expression worriedly. Of course, it gave nothing away, but you were desperate for answers. “Y/N,” Toni began, folding her arms over her chest, “do you know why the realignments never worked on you? We initially thought it was genetics, but your Mother switched just fine, didn’t she?” You winced at the mention of your Mum, you didn’t like to think about what she became. “Such a shame we had to kill her,” Toni smirked, “but we had to see whether your brain would succumb if it was vulnerable. A brain in mourning, distraught and ready to be manipulated. It’s the perfect target for realignment.”

“And yet here I am.” You smiled sweetly.

“I would tell you, but I’m having far too much fun. Perhaps tomorrow, but then again…perhaps not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got your Father and Uncle to kill.” She smirked, holding her gaze with you long enough to make you look away. You hoped to God that your Dad and Uncle Dean were smart enough to know she was coming. As the door slammed shut, the handle locked into place and the light buzzed a taunting red. A scowl grew upon your face. You stood from the bed, a little unsteady, but good enough to walk.

There was a low hum of electricity in the air, at least you thought that's what it was and they watched you through the camera with intrigue. A few hours went by and you circled the room countless times. Truth be told, you were scared. You'd forgotten what it was like to be without a family. It was too easy to be comfortably surrounded by loved one's so much so that when they are gone, even for a day, it somehow doesn't even feel real. Your feet were beginning to drag and you could no longer hear footsteps.

The hum became louder and you glanced around in attempt to locate the noise, but wherever you turned it sounded exactly the same. That was when you realised it was coming from inside your head. Thoughts were overpowered by the echoing drone that circled your mind like a vulture would it's prey. You fell to the ground when it became unbearable, letting out a grunt as you hit the cold tiles underneath your shivering body. There were voices first, loud and harsh against your ears. It was your Dad and your Uncle. You then heard the grumbling of the Impala's engine, muffled by a third voice. One you knew all too well- Toni. An image made it's way past the fog, what was this, some kind of vision?

"Why are you spying on us?" Your Dad pointed his gun at Toni, who smugly sat in the backseats, "Where the hell is Y/N? Oh, and what do you know about Eileen Leahy?" Toni's face tilted, "Who?" "Did you-" Uncle Dean paused to rephrase, "Did your people kill her?" "Probably," Toni smirked, "rule of thumb, if you think we killed someone. We probably did. Oh and speaking of, you do realise that by attacking me the British Men of Letters will come after you. No investigation or trial. Just death. Possibly, at the hands of Mary Winchester." Your Dad and Uncle shared a puzzled look. "The hell is that supposed to mean?" Uncle Dean pushed. "Your mother is our permanent guest." "So she's your prisoner?" Your Dad huffed. "Oh no Mary's joined the team!" Toni grinned. She was enjoying this way too much. "You're lying." Your Dad said. "Maybe." "Just because she worked with Ketch it doesn't mean she liked him." "Oh no I think they did a little more than work together." "What about Mick?" Your Dad asked, quick to change the subject. "Mick?" Toni was genuinely surprised by this, "Oh, Mick's dead. Was deemed too sentimental for the job. Rather like you two really. I suppose this mean's Y/N doesn't know? Can't wait to tell her we killed her own step-Dad."

Sam's face dropped, "Step-Dad?" "Oh, she hadn't told you? Mick married Rebecca almost ten years ago. Mick practically raised Y/N. Imagine," Toni laughed to herself, "that could have been you. Teaching her to walk, to talk, her first day of school, her last day of school-" "Stop it!" Your Dad shouted, making even Dean jump a little, "Where is she?" Toni stayed silent, but held her usual smug smile. "WHERE IS SHE?!" Toni leaned in very slowly, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

You gasped and coughed and held your head, hanging it over yourself as though you were ill. You felt shivery. So, on top of everything else that has happened, you can now...see things? Great. It was pretty terrifying, considering you had no control over these visions, but it made sense now, why the realignment hadn't worked on you. These powers must have stopped it in some way. You thought back to the vision and froze. Mick was dead... He was gone...Okay, so he wasn't your Dad and you didn't exactly think the world of him, but your Mum did. You knew it sounded silly, but he was almost a reminder of your Mum. And now he was gone...just like everyone else...

The door opened and there stood Ketch. You glanced at him, unsure what to do. "Brooks." He nodded. "Winchester." You corrected, glaring at him. He smiled an unreadable smile and you noticed Mary behind him. At first you were uplifted at the sight of her, but soon remembered what you'd heard. It was true. Her eyes were cold and almost void of recognition. "Get her, and we'll be on our way." Ketch ordered.

Mary did as told and headed for you. Her walk was militarian and each footstep turned the tiles into war-zones. "Get up." She ordered. "Well, aren't you going to do as Grandmother asks?" Ketch smiled. You were smart enough to wait for an escape rather than to make one, so you stood and let her grasp your arm. She tugged you along, down hallways and through doors. Doors that were once locked for her and opened for you. ________________________________________________________________

"Mary," You dared to open your mouth, wanting some kind of a reaction from her that showed recognition, "do you even know who I am?" When it had been your mother she forgot who you were. Mary didn't have that expression yet. Her eyes were cold, but they were almost resisting something, something your Mum didn't have a chance to resist. "Of course I know who you are," Mary hissed, "I'm not an idiot."

You were all stood outside the Bunker, Ketch was fiddling with the door, a few trained Men of Letters were stood around him and Mary was holding you at gunpoint. For some reason, it didn't feel as terrifying as you'd think. This wasn't the first time you'd been threatened like-so and something told you it wouldn't be your last either. The door finally opened and Ketch signalled for you all to follow, his sly gaze lingering on you. Mary grabbed you, her arm snaking round your neck and the other pressing the barrel of a gun to your temple. She had a tight grip and there was no way you were getting out of it at that moment.

You spoke up, but only so Mary could hear you, "What are we doing?" "Shut up!" She nudged the gun as a reminder and started leading you down the steps of the bunker.

"Positions everyone, Mary take Y/N round that way and don't come out until needed. If she tries to escape just shoot her. She makes good leverage, but she's not that useful." Ketch ordered. Nice to know, you thought.

Okay. Scratch not being scared because now Ketch had given it the all clear there was a very good chance that Mary would shoot you.

Mary ducked down the steps out of site of the main room and dragged you with her, "Don't try anything." "Wouldn't dream of it, Gran." You sighed, feeling her arm tighten around your neck a little. After a few minutes of silence the bunker door re-opened and you heard Uncle De, "So, we're clear? You call Ketch and tell him if he wants to see you alive he gets his prissy ass over here."

Presumably, he was talking to Toni. You thought about that, the flashback vision thing, and wondered if you could use whatever these powers were to escape. Only, it didn't seem to be the sort of thing you could control, but rather just something that happened every now and again, whether you liked it or not.

"Interestingly, his prissy arse is already here." Ketch said in his irritatingly posh voice. You cringed and rolled your eyes, but still remained very aware of Mary's hold over you. "Lady Bevell," Ketch continued, "would you mind disarming them?" Something must have sparked at that moment as gun shots began to ring out. Cries of pain, cries for help and strangely quiet intermittent moments followed. Mary peered round the corner of the wall and you couldn't see a thing. However, in the slight loosen of the grip you seized the opportunity and ducked away, spinning on the spot and readying yourself for an attack.

Without a moments hesitation, Mary aimed at you and fired.

________________________________________________________________

Dean's POV

I watched Sammy, waiting for the all-clear to go. When he gestured I looped round the back of the walls, gun at the ready. I shot one dead and kept going, ears open and eyes alert. When I saw Ketch with his back to me I raced over and snatched the gun from his grip, holding it against his temple. “Hey!" I snapped, trying to stop him from trying anything.

Sam stepped forward from the safety of the walls, still dragging Toni with him. She had a disappointed scowl on her face. "Where's Y/N? And where's our Mom?!" He demanded.

I pushed, jerking the gun on his head, "Where are they?!" Ketch did his usual smirk before he opened his mouth to start talking, but he didn't even get a word in as footsteps sounded. I glanced up to-

What?

No...

This didn't make any sense....

Mom was there, gun in hand. But she was gripping hold of Y/N as though Y/N was...one of them? Her arm was round her in the same way Sam's was around Toni. Like a kidnapping and human shield all in one. This was leverage. "Don't move." Mom said, glaring at us. I frowned and caught Y/N's gaze. She was staring right at me, trying to get across something I couldn't translate through a stare. She looked scared. Sam, who had his back to them, said "Perfect timing, Mom..." but he trailed off when he met my confused gaze, shooting a questioning frown back. When Ketch tried to duck from gunpoint, I raised the gun and said, "You heard her." "I was talking to you."

Moms' words took a second to go in. I looked at her, lost, "Mom?"

That's when I noticed the bullet wound on Y/N's shoulder, fresh blood seeping through her shirt and her limp arm. She wasn't just scared, she was hurt.

Mom fired, the bullet ringing out as it marked a hole in the wall. A deliberate miss. In my shock, ketch leapt from gunpoint and took the guns back from me. Stumbling, I watched as Sam flinched and backed up.

"I really wouldn't move, she will shoot you." Ketch warned, pointing a gun at each of us. Mom's face was empty of emotion as she strode towards Sammy, taking the gun from him. As she did so, she let go of Y/N, practically shoving her into her Dad. Y/N winced in pain and raised her now free other hand to her wound. Sammy's eyes landed on her bloodied shoulder and I felt his guilt. “Hey, hey, you okay?” Sammy’s gentle voice consoled his kid.

Toni stepped away from us, "Mummy always was a talented hunter. Just somewhat confused about obeying orders. Only this time," Toni took a pause to look Y/N in the eye, "the treatment will work." I put two and two together and realised that must have been what happened to Y/N's Mom. Some kind of issue with this brainwashing thing...or something along those lines. God I wanted to kick all their asses for what they did to that poor kid.

"What did you do to her?" Sam asked, nodding at Mom. I could already see him trying to come up with a cure in his head. Straight to the logistics of it, as always. He had a hand on Y/N and took a step in front of her. I was frozen.

"And I suppose you've heard," Ketch added, "American Hunters are a dying breed." Toni began to walk after him, back to her pack, but halted when he turned around, gun aimed right at her. "Where do you think you're going?" He spat. "Ketch?" The betrayal in her voice rang out. "Remember at Kendricks how they all taught us that we were expendable...that wasn't idle chat."

"Mom?" I finally stammered out, willing myself to take a step forward, "look at me. It's us...please" I felt my voice beginning to shake as she did nothing but point her guns and stare at us like you would look at a passing train that wasn't yours to catch. "Your bunker is an excellent fortress," Ketch said, ignoring me entirely, "and an even better tomb. So we've rejiggered the locks, we've shut off the water and the pumps responsible for your oxygen will run out in two...maybe three...days," he smiled, "you dying in here. It's almost...poetic."

I ran for the door the moment they’d turned their backs, racing up the steps and leaping for the handle. It wouldn't budge, but I tried again anyway. In anger I kicked at it, crying out. This can't be it. We can't die like this. Not after everything.

The lights turned to a doomsday red, the humming of the oxygen pumps lowered into reverse and I stared in dismay at the darkness of the bunker.

Part 22: Promise

Masterlist I do not own these gifs (Tag list after cut )

@bellero

@reddeputation @analisespn

@barbygrozna @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @chelseypaigeake @impala-hunter @msdooos @starswirlblitz @fanboyswhereare-you @amorluzymelodia @d-willem @adidabach @booksarecoolio @winchesters-favorite-girl @squirels-angels-and-moose @27bmm @practicallyawinchester @demonic-meatball @xsecretrejectx @bea789 @sarahthewriter55 @jiggysupernatural @trashforwinchesters @snazzyjazzyh @diesintheshower @intoomuchfandoms

@the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @kbarnett1089 @riversong-sam @intoomuchfandoms @teamfreewill-67 @revwinchester @jensen-jarpad @itseverythingilike @avalon821 @miss-miep @lovelouisbabe @wcmanwcnder @graceless-dragon @sofy7012 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @oneshotsdeanshort @caroldanversinatardis @soulfiretheobsessed @whovianayesha @fandomsstolemylife00 @straightasdeanwinchester @soullessbabee @heytherecutie13 @spnkisum @clairedelalune @honeybeetrash @sammy-salamander @saltyasshxe @wingsanddarkness

133 notes · View notes

ofcnoel · 4 years

Text

𝓻𝓪𝓺'𝓼 ( 𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 ) 𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 002

hey y’all it’s me, lowering the bar for us all. as usual let me know if i missed anything cause to no one’s surprise : i’m dumb ! now that i have 4 muses i wanna like,,,, make sure i have a good amount of plots for each one sooooo don’t mind me if i roll up demanding attention. alright, bye love u plot with me pls imma do replies now

𝔹𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕥 / 24

leigh-anne pinnock. cisfemale. she/her. ／ billie prescott just pulled up blasting girls need love by summer walker — that song is so them ! you know, for a(n) twenty-four year old singer, i’ve heard they’re really pessimistic, but that they make up for it by being so audacious. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say small forgotten & meaningless tattoos, patron filled shot glasses, and texts left on read . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( it’s me raq im sorry u have to see 4 muses from me )

intro here

pinterest tba

vc: little mix // leigh-anne pinnock ( * possibly summer walker im. still debating )

tl;dr : her parents were divorced, which sent her into a crazy phase of running away and not trusting anyone around her. her father gave up on her, she hates her mother – her grandfather billy is the only person who seemed to continue to care and support her . she’s still quite untrusting, her best defense mechanism being sarcasm and a little bit of coldness. she’s not the best lover cause she doesn’t believe in all that but she is a rather loyal friend. if you know any of my older muses she’s,,, a margo lite. margo with some goals and direction .

current connections :

best friends : girls of equilibrium, harris, milena , kami

i-- lmao that’s it i’m working on the rest

wanted connections:

party friends

bad influences on her

good influences on her

people she’s a bad influence on

someone new to the industry that she’s protective over

casual flings

exes

anything pls

𝔻𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 / 23

normani. cis-female. she/her. ／ dove darling just pulled up blasting pressing me by rico nasty — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty three year old actress/musician, i’ve heard they’re really stubborn, but that they make up for it by being so vivacious . if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say early 2000s r&b playlists, princess cut diamonds, and shiny lipgloss over perfectly lined lips . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble !

intro here.

pinterest tba.

vc: doja cat & normani

she’s a hollywood starlite but also kinda a meme. daughter of an actor and a socialite – dove comes from bunches of money. she’s a bit spoiled, but that doesn’t really make her any less friendly. tends to expect people to like her cause she’s so good at pretending. still, she balances that with being genuine. often described as surprisingly quirky in the media dove is honestly too fucking silly for her own good. probably anime trash on the low. your pr team’s wet dream thanks to her squeaky clean public reputation . just because she’s never been caught doing something bad – definitely does not mean she’s an angel by any means.

current connections:

best / close friends: marnie, kaia , maeve, parker, jack, allie, ashley ,

current pr boyfriend : brodie

childhood best friend: milena

ex on good terms: rhett

exes on bad terms: harris

flirtationship: logan

party friends: angel

ex fiance: harris

wanted connections:

party friends aka people dove really only hangs with in passing, usually after a few drinks .

ex on bad terms there probably aren’t many of these ! but, give her one that just really doesn’t like her bc they dated after her engagement was called off and she was more emotionally unavailable than ever.

ex pr relationships: self explaintory but, i’d like to see maybe one where they fell for her and she’s like “lmao this is fake… relax.”

enemies ! the more the better to balence out how many friends she has skajafs

anything else!

ℕ𝕠𝕖𝕝 𝕃𝕒𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥 / 22

― chance perdomo. he/him. cismale. ／ noel laurent just pulled up blasting a boy is a gun by tyler, the creator — that song is so them ! you know, for a(n) twenty-two year old rapper, i’ve heard they’re really reckless, but that they make up for it by being so altruistic. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say rolled up sleeves on an oversized sweater, missed 2am calls, messy notebooks filled with lyrics. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble !

intro here

pinterest tba

vc: kevin abstract

aka gay panic . my mother trucking baby. period. too kind to ever really stand up for himself. my one muse that is definitely a pacifist and avoids confrontation at all costs – unless you’re coming for someone he loves. ( but tbh even then he doesn’t really want smoke sgkads) literally just a sweet boy. super soft inside and out, loyal to a fault, and overall well meaning. nurturer / dad friend . will often ignore his own problems simply for what he thinks is the greater good of his friends. selfless to a fault. tendency to fall into bad situations thanks to his reckless nature and inability to say no.

current connections:

best / close friends: malachi, future iridescence boys, milena, brodie, maeve, marnie,

neighbor / light meaningless admiration / neighbors : harris

complicated not ( but definitely ) boyfriend: scout

weird terms: samyr

he’s scared of them: parker lmao

past hookups: valentina

friendzoned friends : kaia

sister: hallie

wanted connections:

more of the irridesence boys ( deadass the next person who brings one of them will get free dash icons from me. any style. i’m begging. bribery? it works ! )

unlikely friends !

exes on bad terms and good terms.

people he produces for .

anything else your sweet lil head desires !

𝕊𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕥.𝕁𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤 / 23

luke hemmings. cismale. he/him. ／ scotty st.james just pulled up blasting despicable by grandson — that song is so them ! you know, for a(n) twenty-three year old musician, i’ve heard they’re really detached ,but that they make up for it by being so venturesome . if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say old guitars, the smell of cigarettes and bourbon, and hundred dollar bills thrown in the air . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( it’s me! the raq )

intro

pinterest here

vc: 5sos / luke hemmings

a hot…. mess tbh. scott’s been through so much so he’s really guarded , over protective , and self loathing as hell. tendency to keep everyone at an arms length unless you’re someone very special to him and does not deal well with whatever he deems betrayal. though, that doesn’t stop him from being an absolute buffoon when it comes to seriously committing. as a side effect though, if you’re on the list of people he really fucks with he will fight for you. also, will fight cause he’s short tempered and shit at expressing himself. really fears abandonment seriously. lowkey scared of the dark eye – :( he’s such a sweet boy on the inside but outwardly a prick like 99.9% of the time.

current connections:

best / good friends: brodie , harris , maeve , gus and parker

enemies: angel / harris

acquaintances ( aka friends but he’s too much of a dick to claim them ): ashley, kaia??

his sister but he doesn’t know it : ashley

ex on really bad terms: genevieve / marnie

adoptive sibling: stas, scout

childhood girlfriend / something really complicated : maeve

wanted connections:

unrequited crush on him because im sure he milked that bc he wants affection w/o the commitment

party “friends” friends is so loose because he… never calls more than like 4 ppl his friend but he treats them like friends akass

a very bad ex pr relationship that he publicly cheated on so they could end things because he literally can’t fucking stan pr shit akjdfas

neighbors !

an enemies with benefits Perhaps? dont see that going further than they bicker but also smash ig sakfdjafd

anything else !

#this graphic? TERRIBLE!#but i had to add bill #also plot with me :)#plot list #yeeeeeee #connections list

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cfsinners · 5 years

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C H A R A C T E R S T U D Y ⇁ ( 1 / 2 )

Your mother was a troublemaker, always was. Sleeping with the gardener? How about while married to the mayor? William Seward III’s campaign should have been ashes then and there. Your mother might have been sinful, but him? He was a monster. How he treated his wife? His son? You were lucky you got out of there intact. There was half a chance that he’d find out she was pregnant, with the gardener’s child no less. Did she love him? You don’t know. You should have asked her. But she wouldn’t shut the fuck up about the son she’d left. She loved him, you knew that. Funny that it was never enough to go back to Wheeler, to fight for custody too. Guess she loved you more, and you never expected anything less.

Brat wasn’t the right word for it. You were something else. You had the terrible twos for thirteen and a half years, if not longer. Always grappling for more, even as it tested the barriers of your father’s paychecks. You bled your parents dry emotionally and economically. If there was a day without chocolate, it would be the sobbing that got to them. If it was a day without tantrums, then the paycheck was nearly gone. They loved you too much to say no. But it wasn’t really love, it was weakness, lethargy, laziness. Your mother lived off of her parents’ loans, though she wasn’t ever obliged to pay them back. And she lacked a backbone to make up for the stiff one of the man she had left. She never put her foot down, because it was too much work. So whose fault was it that the money was gone in half a week? Yours? Hers?

&&. GLUTTONY The lights of the master bedroom twinkling faintly in the distance, the quiet whining of a younger sibling, cookies snuck into bed at night. An eminent need in the distant horizon. Tears shed with a strong voice, a broken heart, and wondering when you can get those earrings you can’t live without as your sibling goes to bed with a rumbling stomach. Always starving for more, never satisfied. Fingers wrapping around the dwindling supply of food and money. An elementary schooler with an unhealthy hunger all the way to an adult with an insatiable for power and money. &&. WRATH Screams of bloody murder, phone calls from the neighbors, the begging of your dad to not scream over spilt milk. A short, murderous temper with a stint of fabled apologies after. Your turn with the toy, your turn with mommy, always your turn and never anyone else’s if they knew what was good for them. Vivacious insults, and premature curses rattled off a tongue that barely knew what they meant. Fuck, shit, whore, bitch. A ventilation of feelings that barely held up, even as a grown-up. &&. ENVY People always had more. More space, more attention, more love. All waiting to be torn out of their hands, but never able. Two siblings, mother, father, the Chicago apartment and little space, little attention, little love. Everyone somehow had more. More pretty, more popular, more kind. How much more did your half-brother have? How much did he truly suffer? How much did anyone? If you could only grapple it from them, wrestle it from their unthankful, grimy, little fingers.

II.

Lip-gloss, hair curlers, platform shoes. Ringlets of dark hair shoved behind ears, the smell of cherries, the soft hum of Don’t Speak by No Doubt. Your name wasn’t so much Charity as it was Lucy. Worry etched across your mom’s face because you were just like her. Though she could hope you would calm after the move into the new house.

In fact, everything was worse after you settled an hour or so away from Chicago’s epicenter. It was all very intentional, your lack of communication and sparse time at home. Time to yourself, days spent at the library behind shelves with people you didn’t know the names of. All you knew were the names of the poets and writers covering your sin, despite having no idea what they’d written. You never bothered to read a book seriously before. Not before now, in the avoidance of church, family, and future. They weren’t a portal into another world, they were a distraction. A welcome one in the hands of a poor girl in a strange place.

&&. LUST Boys lining up to ask you to the movies, sleepovers with girls you barely know. Maybe not as pretty, or as pure. But whispered voices of things you could do in the dark. Homeschool did no harm. Lipstick stains and hickeys. Prayers interrupted, intertwined hands. Your teenage years were spent in the back of boys’ cars, taking risks at every bend. You remember laughing at those overzealous church girls and the prayers they’d utter under their breath between the meeting of lips. &&. SLOTH Five family members, but four church attendees. Swim and debate getting in the way until doubt grew too. Excuses popping up, especially after your family moved to leave home in the dust. So five family members, four ass-kissers. How many times did your Catholic family butt heads with everyone else? Too many variations of God to believe in one. Or to believe in any. Prayers died on your lips that summer.

III.

You weren’t ever successful. Years spent trying to prove that you were worth more than the price tag pinned to you were flushed down the toilet by stupid, teenage decisions. If you had tried more, paid better attention, and maybe given a shit, grades would have been better. Though it would never change the money situation, or the debt. Maybe you could not achieve Yale because of youthful decisions poisoning the drinking well, but you could do what you wanted anyway.

Law school was a world away, graduation a few years in the past. All you had was the books. Dusty and smelly. In truth, you never liked them, but they were your comfort. They taught you better than any teacher, and nursed you better than any parent. In doubt, they would elevate you to success, so you could respect them. Selling them would provide no riches, but studying them could help. You whittled away years behind a bookshelf, many of them not even spent reading before now.

IV.

No top-notch law school would take you, a repentant, poor beggar. Mid-twenties wasted away behind books. But Notre Dame was enough. You remember filling out the forms when applying. Questions pertaining to children, to partners. Money being clicked away with each truthful answer. Broke wasn’t the word for what you’d be after college. There wasn’t a word for it.

In the end, you were aware of your mastery. The classes you took? Nothing you didn’t already know from quiet days of avoidance, or restless nights. You knew everything. What the fuck was in a degree? A title? A scam? People refused to afford you the light of day, because they didn’t know any better. They didn’t care about how much you struggled, how much you spent. There was no understanding or apologies for what was about to come. The avalanche would bury you, and even you would struggle to recover.

&&. GREED Your climb towards the heavens was not without clawing and scarring. People left bleeding on the ground after left under your mercy. At first it hadn’t ever been about the money, until it was. Everything was about money. You slaved to finish what you had at first wanted, but now something else was ending what you started. Greed climbing up your sickly throat, turning you green in the middle of the night before an exam. Those dollar bills would not escape you. &&. PRIDE The death of faith made the soil rich. Minutes spent longer in the mirror, time spent more on yourself. Pride grew from the ashes of religion. Soft skin and trapped smiles, appreciation for yourself, and thoughts of grandeur. A nose turned up at siblings and parents alike. Living in squalor when you were bound for so much more. People would regret trying to squash you under their heels. You are nothing but God, dark skin and all. It’s time someone other than you realized it.

Mother died not long after you showed yourself to the world again, a weight pulling you back away from the future. Father cried for weeks, or maybe even months. You had nothing to show for the years in college, or the years away from mother and father. Lucy had died with the name Wheeler on her lips, some memory she could not comprehend in the moment. Thirty years old, the week after you buried her. Then thirty-one, scrounging up what you could to care for father, but unable to handle any case that came your way with care enough or vigor enough for a victory. No one would hire you.

Your father was baggage, so you left him, siblings flailing behind you, to return to your books. Money was escaping between your fingers every second. Debt knocking on your window when you slept. Panic was not what was seeping in. Though that was exactly what it was. With your hubris and memories, you shut down. Although you were smart enough to remember the name Wheeler, and the half-brother. He would have money, everything you didn’t have. Thirty-two, and a few days later, you move in. Some tiny apartment and position at Porter County Library. A job you like, but won’t pay the bills. You just have to wait for the right moment to claim what is yours.

The tragedies are opportunities in your eyes. A little girl missing, so sad. A promise broken is more like it. In another life, you could have cared. If you were like your mother, you would have. Maybe you would have expressed true condolences, but your mother used her last breaths to express regret for a child she had abandoned and a town she had forgotten to bore you. Where was your name is those last few hours? Where was father’s?

#&&. bio #&&. inspo #&&. aes #&&. musings #&&. intro #quadruple p proud

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porchwood · 5 years

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Fic Bits 2018: The One That Got Away

Modern AU; Madge POV. Jude/Madge, Gale/Madge.

They say you can never go home again, and yet here I am, packing to do just that.

The second autumn after you graduate from college is when the niggling feeling starts, like you left town without returning your library books or forgot to put the new insurance card in your glove compartment. When the first one comes around, you’re elated that you don’t have to think – let alone worry – about registering for classes, mapping your daily routes across campus, or buying school supplies of any kind, but by the second you’re starting to feel like something’s wrong. It’s easy to understand why so many people fall into teaching. Your body gets set on that routine, so that going back to school in fall is as instinctual to humans as seasonal migrations are to birds.

Ironically, it was the school year that determined this move – or rather, the school year that necessitated it, though the fall semester is already several weeks underway. Beginning in January, Dad will be teaching again for the first time since I was in elementary school – and, doubt it not, loving every minute of it.

At twenty-three my life could and probably should be independent of my parents’, but no matter which way I turned the situation around in my mind, there was no truly good reason not to move back with them. As badly as I don’t want to go back to the small town where I grew up, there’s nothing substantial enough to keep me here if my parents are gone.

We’ve always been thick as thieves and, oddly, moreso since moving to the capital city. The fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue that kept my mother to a quiet routine in our hometown made her a veritable recluse amidst the constant bustle of squealing brakes and blaring horns, and everything was so blindingly expensive, we rarely partook of the concerts and boutiques and exotic restaurants that had sounded so exciting from our living room back home.

Moving here as a family had been the result of two somewhat predictable stars aligning perfectly: after twelve years as mayor, Dad was elected to the state legislature and I was accepted into the music program at a small private college, a short bus ride from the capitol building. My parents rented a spacious loft halfway in-between the two, which enabled me to keep tabs on my mother while enjoying the independence of living off-campus all through school, while our place back home was loaned out to visiting professors and the like – short-term rentals to keep the utilities running and keep an eye out for any maintenance issues that might arise. I’m told I missed out on the “full college experience” by not living in a dorm, but from all accounts, it’s a party I’m glad to have skipped.

For all intents and purposes, home has been 37 Ash Terrace for the past five years. Four-and-a-half hours isn’t the longest drive, but there was always one reason or another to stay here through the holidays – which is not to say we’ve never gone back, of course. Our family revisits can be counted on two hands, but I’ve made a few extra trips on my own for special occasions, the last of which – the baptism of Katniss’s son Janni – was more than two years ago now.

I look up at my bulletin board, now stripped of everything but the central photo, and have just tugged out the tack when my phone rings. It’s a local cell number – local to our hometown, not to here – but doesn’t pull up a contact, and I cross the first two fingers of my free hand, hoping one of my cover letters has snared an interview as I answer, “Hello?”

“Is this Madeline Undersee?” asks a young male voice.

That was one of the best things about moving away, and one that I’m particularly loath to leave behind: finally getting to be Madeline, not Madge. That a young professional back home is addressing me as such, however, gives me hope.

“It is,” I affirm, and there’s a brief, quickly stifled sound from the other end before the caller goes on, “I was wondering if you might be available to play a wedding in November.”

The pieces snap together in my mind. It’s probably a local boy who went to college in the capitol like myself – it’s a common enough path – and found himself a fiancée, though it is a trifle odd for the groom to call ‘round for an accompanist.

“I’m sorry; I’m actually moving out of the area this weekend,” I reply, “but I can refer you to several other musicians who would be excellent choices.”

“I’m afraid it really has to be you,” he says with what sounds far more like mischief than regret. “What about a wedding in your hometown? Would that be a little easier to manage?”

“In –?” I break off, mind whipping through the possibilities. It’s hardly a secret that the Undersees are moving back after five years in the big city, but we’ve kept radio silence on my own return except where potential employers are concerned, so there’s no way some random local groom could even know about me, let alone want to hire me for his wedding. “Who is this?” I demand more than ask, a shy fifteen-year-old bookworm all over again, bristling in anticipation of the prank.

“You really don't know?” the young man responds, sounding genuinely surprised, and for a half-second my heart skips in hope, never mind that his voice bears no resemblance whatsoever to Gale’s rough, smoky timbre. “I’m wounded, mädchen,” he laments, and my heart trips halfway through its skip and somersaults clumsily forward to faceplant onto the concrete below.

“Jude?” I squeak.

“You haven’t forgotten me entirely, then?” he teases.

“Don’t be daft,” I retort, my stunned heart now flailing in shock. “So…you’re getting married?” I almost ask if it’s Columbine but that crush is surely ancient history now, never mind that last I heard, she was headed to some fashion design or modeling program out east.

“Don’t be daft,” he throws back with characteristic self-deprecation, but the affection beneath it wraps about me like a blanket – or one of Jude’s incredible lingering hugs. “But I do need a wedding accompanist,” he goes on, “which as I said, really has to be you, but I want to tell you about it in person. When are you back?”

“Well – tomorrow,” I reply, and the whole thing suddenly feels surreal. “Well, the day after, really,” I clarify. “Tomorrow’s the drive up and the U-Haul unload. Mom and Dad hired movers but you still want to go through everything, you know?”

“Of course,” he assures me. “Want to meet at Primavera for Saturday lunch – say, 11:30? My treat.”

“Primavera?” I puzzle. There’s never been an Italian restaurant in our hometown – it’s too small and rural to sustain any such – but the nearby city has a few shopping malls and a much wider selection of eateries; it makes sense that Jude would want to go to one of them. “What – where is that?” I ask.

He gives a little choke of laughter in reply. “Have you really been away so long, mädchen?” he wonders, but something about my ignorance seems to amuse – even delight – him. “It’s Italian – awesome Italian – right next to Mellarks’.”

“There’s nothing next to Mellarks’,” I counter, because our tiny historic downtown has never been able to keep shops for long, not with countless department stores and discount stores not twenty miles off. “Unless…are we having a sidewalk picnic, Judah?” I venture, almost hopefully, and he laughs.

“If the first date goes well, we can do whatever you want on the second,” he replies, and I miss him so much that I snatch up a pillow with my free hand and hug it to my chest as hard as I can. “But I promise: there is a legit Italian restaurant next to Mellarks’,” he says. “I’m going to buy you lunch there on Saturday, and you’re going to love it so much that you’ll refuse to live out of takeout range ever again.”

“Color me intrigued,” I tease. “As much about your mysterious wedding as this new eatery.”

“They’re both worth the wait,” he promises, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

“I missed you,” I blurt and Jude falls suddenly, uncharacteristically silent. There are any number of well-deserved retorts he could hand me, ranging from You didn’t have to to I didn’t go anywhere, but Jude is the sweetest boy I’ve ever known – on a level with Peeta, really – and even in our most frustrated moments, he never addressed me half as harshly as Gale would on a good day.

I think I hurt him a long time ago, though he’s never said as much.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, and the corners of my eyes prickle hotly.

I don’t want to go home – you can never go home again, everyone says as much – don’t want to explain why I have a music degree from a respectable college and am looking for any old day job in my hometown and living with my parents. I don’t want to see Gale Hawthorne – never mind how wildly I do want to see him – to face all the inevitable jibes about how I “couldn’t make it in the real world.”

But if Jude – sweet, funny, precious Jude – is coming back into my life, it just might be bearable. He’ll have a job and new friends now – a girlfriend, to be sure – and he may not even live in town any longer. But we can grab lunches together here and there and laugh about stuff that happened in high school. Maybe we’ll find new things to laugh about.

“See you Saturday?” I say.

“I’ll be the one with the red ribbon,” he replies.

As always, I’m the one who hangs up.

Jude always let me end our calls, always hanging on in case of one last thought or lament, one more drawn-out Night-night or See you tomorrow.

Looking down at the phone in my hand, I remember the incredibly idiotic reason Jude isn’t saved as a contact anymore and sit on my stripped mattress, both arms curled around the pillow and my chin resting on its edge. It was stupid and childish – and ultimately pointless, because he didn’t try to get in touch at all after that. Oh, he did the usual friendly Facebook stuff – comments on my posts and the like – because Jude is that kind of sweet, but he’d never do anything to make me uncomfortable.

And also, maybe, he was hurt.

It’s not as if I shut him out – there were no calls or texts or emails to ignore – and you could hardly call my across-the-state move for college “avoidance,” but it certainly aided me to that end, especially five summers ago.

I bite my lips together for a long moment, silently call myself an idiot, and save the number as a new contact: Judah Tolliver. Neat, professional, and objective, like a grown-up. After all, if he’s hiring me for a wedding we’ll be exchanging calls and texts over the next few months; there’s no reason not to add him to my phone.

Returning to my call history, I dial Rue, the high school friend I’ve stayed closest to by virtue of us attending the same college. Our courses of study and career veered apart over the past few years as Rue set aside music to pursue dance full-bore and is currently spending her days with a traveling company that does famous ballets in a pared-down, intimate contemporary style, with dreamlike costumes that I suspect her father has a hand in, but we’ve stubbornly kept in touch all this while, meeting for a meal and a chat whenever her schedule allows.

She’s halfway across the country dancing Swanilda in Coppélia this season, so our farewell supper took place about two weeks ago. I don’t expect her to answer and am beyond surprised when she does.

“Hey chickie-babe!” she cries. “Are you home? I’ve only got a minute but I want to hear all about it. How did your house hold up?”

“We haven’t left yet,” I tell her. “We’re loading the U-Haul tonight and driving back tomorrow.”

“So where’s the fire?” she teases. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you to bits, but why call now? Are you getting sad about leaving – or going back?”

Rue understands my misgivings, even if she doesn’t share them. After I told my parents I’d move back with them, I curled up on Rue’s couch and cried myself into a stupor while she nestled her tiny fairy-form around me in a supportive hug. Going home is not failure, she told me over and over again, her husky voice sounding so like her mother’s as she rubbed my back in soothing circles. You and your parents have always supported each other; it makes sense you’d go back with them, at least for a little – and it’s not forever, not if you don’t want it to be.

Rue’s parents – a costumer and a choreographer – left the capitol when they started having kids and heartily embraced small town life in the heartland, but they both had vibrant careers behind them and were ready for quiet inexpensive living, for Piggly Wiggly and the county fair and a fixer-upper farmhouse, and they quickly found avenues to exercise their talents on a smaller scale.

I’m a year and a half out of college with eleven wedding gigs, five funerals, and a teaching slot at the local conservatory to show for twenty years at the piano and a B.A. with high distinction.

“Jude just called,” I reply by way of explanation. “He wants to hire me for a wedding –”

“His?” she interjects impishly.

“No,” I quell, “but he wouldn’t tell me who it is over the phone either. We’re meeting for lunch on Saturday to discuss it.”

“Meeting for lunch to discuss a mysterious wedding right after you move back to town?” she presses slyly. “Maybe it’s yours!”

Rue knows there’s nothing of that sort between Jude and me and never has been, but she’s equally convinced that there must be, or should’ve been. He adores you, you know, she’s told me time and again. Like, Peeta-and-Katniss level devotion. Couldn’t you just kiss him once and see what happens?

“Be serious,” I snort.

“I am,” she insists. “I never understood why the pair of you never got together, or why you fell out of touch after graduation. Jude was crazy about you –”

“He was like that with everyone,” I counter. “The sweet, funny thing – that’s just his natural demeanor.”

“And did he ask everyone to marry him if their respective crushes married other people?” she wonders.

“He said we should go on a date, not get married,” I remind her, the edge of a snap creeping into my voice. “It was a low moment and a long time ago. We were both feeling angsty.”

I don’t mention the other thing, the thing I’ve never told anyone – not even myself when I can help it.

“Well…maybe it’s time, sweetie,” she posits quietly. “Maybe Columbine finally found a husband and Jude wants to give the pair of you a chance.”

“I really don’t think that’s it,” I tell her, oddly wearied by the subject, but judging by the increasing volume of background noise, Rue’s about to be pulled away anyway.

“Sorry, I have to go,” she admits at the selfsame moment. “I’ll be back in a few weeks myself, but call me ASAP after your lunch with Jude, okay?”

“You got it,” I promise, and we hang up. I set the phone on my mattress, next to the photo of Gale Hawthorne from the state hockey finals seven years ago, and sigh.

I haven’t seen him since the reception after Ashpet’s baptism, and it wasn’t the most auspicious encounter.

I’d never struck a man before – or since – and certainly never in a church basement.

“Magpie?”

My father pokes his head through the open doorway. “Movers just got here,” he says. “Is your room ready to go?”

I tuck the picture of Gale inside my battered paperback of Jane Eyre, just behind the Candygram with the red ribbon threaded across the top and tied in a perfect, pressed, bow. “This is it,” I affirm, and slip the book into my purse before following my father downstairs.

As a tween I was enamored of the 1995 remake of Sabrina and resolved to head off to school with a photo of Gale – obligingly supplied by Jude, who worked on the yearbook – to pin on my bulletin board and systematically cover with playbills, flyers, ticket stubs, and the like. But I could never quite bring myself to obscure him completely, and when I went to London for my semester abroad I brought him there too, to try and forget in a foreign land.

The book is a Gale token too, also obtained for me by Jude.

I finagled to take Senior Lit in spring of my junior year in order to free up an elective senior year and as a result took the class with Jude. The first book on the slate was Jane Eyre – which I loved, somewhat to my surprise – and in true high school fashion, each copy had a log card inside the cover for the present user to write their name on, beneath the names of the book’s previous readers. Of course, neither Jude nor I got Gale’s but we knew someone had it, and at Jude’s graduation party – months after all the books had been checked back in – he stole me away to his room to press the prized copy into my hands.

I think you were looking for this, he said as I opened the cover, frantically scanned the names inscribed therein and threw my arms around him with a shriek.

But Jude, I realized, pulling back with a start, you swiped this; what if they won’t let you graduate-?

I just did, he reminded me gleefully, and the diploma is signed, sealed, and securely secreted in Mom’s wall safe as we speak. Anyway, it wasn’t my copy, so even if they do notice it’s missing, it’s not me they’d come after.

I looked back at the last name on the card – Annie Cresta – and shook my head at him. If she gets in trouble for this, I warned.

She won’t, he promised. They don’t care that much about one of twenty-three beat-up paperbacks, and it means a whole lot more to you than to the school.

I hugged him again, fiercely this time, and he curled his arms around me with a little sigh. I’m so glad you like your present, mädchen, he murmured. I know it’s not you graduating, but I wanted to beat the rush.

I spent most of Senior Lit associating Gale with Mr. Rochester, to Jude’s clear chagrin, which was curious as he didn’t seem to like the character any more than he did my sullen, dark-haired crush. I’ll grant you similarities, he agreed, but can you imagine Gale delivering that beautiful string speech in any universe?

We took our Jane Eyre final on Valentine’s Day, and in the class directly following I received an anonymous Candygram with a strawberry lollipop affixed, a red ribbon painstaking woven through neat holes punched across the top and tied in a small bow, and the handwritten message:

“I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you – especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land some broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly.”

I wished so badly for it to be from Gale – never mind he wasn’t even in school anymore, let alone inclined to quote Charlotte Brontë – or maybe that I had some other mysterious tall-dark-and-handsome admirer, but I knew exactly who it was from and let my head fall against his shoulder as we sat next to each other in the choir room, his literary Valentine cupped in my hands.

Jude’s breath caught a little at the gesture, then leveled out in a long slow sigh.

Thanks, Jude, I whispered.

We both knew it wasn’t a real love note but I treasured it as one just the same, pressed between the pages of my student planner until finding a worthier setting inside Gale’s copy of Jane Eyre. The book and Candygram went everywhere with me – every summer camp and weekend trip during my senior year and in college, on every choir tour, every visit back home, all across Europe on my backpacking trip with Rue and then on to my bedside table in England. If I couldn’t lay hands on it at a moment’s notice I’m not sure I’d be able to breathe.

The movers are quiet and efficient and the truck is loaded in a fraction of the time we anticipated, prompting Dad and me to hash out the pros and cons of setting out tonight instead, but there are plenty of last-minute little things to wrap up and we’d all prefer to make the drive on a good night’s sleep – which unfortunately, is not to be had for me. Dad booked us a hotel room in the suburbs for convenience, so we could check out of the loft as soon as the truck was loaded and leave in the morning without having to wait for one last walk-through with the landlord, but while he and Mom drift off quickly in their queen bed, I frown up at the ceiling from the sofa sleeper, contemplating Jude and Jane Eyre.

The capitol is a long way off, mädchen…

My junior year – Jude’s senior year – was like high school is in the movies: a charmed, wonderful dream that feels like it’ll never end. In October Peeta finally plucked up the nerve to ask Katniss out, and their relationship brought both her and I – and to a lesser extent, Rue – firmly into the Mellark circle. Jude and I had been friendly before that, but he’s both cousin and close friend to the Mellark brothers, and as a result he and I were thrown together almost constantly at meals, school events, even youth group outings. We jokingly called these “triple dates” or “quad dates” sometimes, since the rest of our group consisted of fast-and-firm couples – Peeta and Katniss, Luka and Johanna, and often Finnick and Annie as well – but no one ever seemed to take the idea of Jude and me as a couple seriously.

We were madrigal seat partners that December, which necessitated all kinds of marriage banter throughout the dinners, then after Christmas came Senior Lit and Jane Eyre and auditions for school’s production of Fiddler on the Roof. Determined not to miss out on a role when my best friends were undeniable shoo-ins, I dyed my hair a deep chestnut-brown the night before my tryout – solidly shocking everyone in my acquaintance, but it served its purpose when I was cast as Tzeitel. I’d had my hopes set on playing any one of the sisters and forgot until the read-through that I was playing the one whose wedding is a major showpiece of the play – and that I would be marrying Jude, made even more endearing in little round glasses.

I’d never had so much fun, before or since.

I left most of my high school mementos at home when we moved to the capitol but the Fiddler album has stayed with me, and from time to time I page through the photos, the notes that came with flowers from my parents and teachers, the programs that we all signed – and the subsequent ridiculous everyday notes from Jude addressed to “Wifey” and “Mrs. Kamzoil.”

Prom came around in April and our school required everyone to attend in pairs, so it was effectively decided over youth group pizza after a highway trash cleanup that I would be going with Jude. I’d nourished a pipe dream that Gale might magically materialize and ask me to go with him – you could attend with someone who had graduated and it happened now and again, with college freshmen coming back to escort their girlfriends – but when he actually did appear at the dance it was with Leevy, his flavor-of-the-month girlfriend, if the rumors were to be believed.

I still had my brown hair at prom-time, which Jude lamented to no end while alternately telling me that I was “gorgeous just the same” and making me laugh at the silliest things. The dance was a blast for the first two hours, and then Katniss and Peeta quietly revealed to our group that they were engaged, with plans to marry the following spring after graduation.

Their courtship had been rapid and intense – emotionally, not physically – and no one was surprised that marriage was forthcoming, but the timetable was shocking to say the least. None of us believed that Katniss was pregnant or anything of the sort but they were both barely seventeen, and neither had any interest in going on to college. Peeta had a career waiting at the bakery he loved and Katniss was supremely adaptable to almost any kind of work – and neither was closing the door on trade schools or vocational degrees, if a good fit should present itself. They had decided – rather practically – to spend their senior year planning the wedding and finding a home rather than fretting over the ACT and college applications, and they would get married at the end of May, before the weather got too hot and everyone headed off to college.

It was a preposterous and entirely sound plan.

Peeta and Katniss skipped the school-sponsored after-prom party, unsurprisingly, while the rest of us splintered off into contemplative pairs. Finnick and Annie and Luka and Johanna both seemed as good as engaged to me, but the announcement had rattled them as well, and Jude and I wound up watching the smarmy stage hypnotist by ourselves in a subdued sort of silence.

It wasn’t that either of us was unhappy at the news, exactly. While I considered Katniss my best friend, we had never been chatty in typical girlfriend-fashion, and yet her impending marriage struck my stomach like an icy stone. You’ll be going to college anyway, I reminded myself, and you’ll stay in touch, but none of this served to soothe.

Jude absently wrapped his tux jacket around my shoulders and then his arm, resting his cheek on the top of my head. He’d barely spoken since the engagement reveal and I couldn’t begin to guess what his uncharacteristic silence meant.

It sounds really nice, he said suddenly, softly. Staying right here, getting married, coming home to a wife and babies.

I wanted to retort something dry and mildly caustic but couldn’t find the words for any reply at all because it was nice, this future Peeta and Katniss were setting up for themselves. I wanted to continue with music as long as I could; to study abroad, to live in the capitol and maybe other cities in due course,, but that wasn’t the future either Katniss or Peeta wanted, and why should they force themselves through the college mold, going eyes-deep in debt for degrees they had no interest in and possibly jeopardizing their relationship with the distance and other, inevitable, obstacles when the future they both craved was easily within their grasp?

Madeline, Jude continued in that same soft tone – I was always Madeline or, affectionately, mädchen to him – if Columbine and Gale marry other people, will you go on a date with me?

Almost as long as Jude and I have been friends, we’ve been aware of each other’s hopeless longing for an oblivious sweetheart and openly commiserated about it, with no fear – or even thought – of annoying each other or hurting feelings. Butcher’s son Jude was in love with Columbine Wilhearn, all black curls and lovely voice, whose mother was a small-scale – if highly in-demand – clothing designer and I was in love with broody, breathtaking Gale, whose mother managed the local laundromat and who despised my very existence because, as the mayor’s daughter, I had surely been born to privilege – never mind that my father had been a music teacher before his election and that as mayor he served a rural town of some 8000 people and dealt with weighty matters like dog waste ordinances and ribbon cuttings for tiny antique shops.

We’d both made periodic, futile attempts to elicit our respective crush’s attentions, but somehow for the course of that year – the year of madrigal seat partners and Jane Eyre and getting married on-stage in Fiddler – the longing had felt a little less pressing. Jude still ordered flowers for Columbine on opening night – she was playing the female lead, after all – but in other circumstances he would’ve done so for every performance, not just the first, and he brought me flowers too – a vaseful of red tulips from his mother’s garden to brighten my corner of the greenroom. And while I knew he’d asked Columbine to prom their junior year – and been turned down, of course – I don’t think he even tried the next time around, just cheerfully stepped up to escort me when the opportunity arose.

In fact, to the outside observer, Jude and I probably appeared to be dating for the past year.

The realization left me cross, embarrassed and oddly weary. Jude and I were just friends, everybody knew it, but could we have inadvertently sabotaged each other’s crushes by spending so much time together? Would Gale have emerged to ask me out if I hadn’t been so immersed in the Mellark circle this year – and in Jude’s company in particular?

We’re at prom, I reminded him, my tone shorter than he deserved. I’m wearing an evening gown and your tux jacket. How much more of a date do you want?

I want to pick you up at your house, he replied without hesitation, a brush of lips against my lilac-threaded crown braid. Just you and me and maybe your dad on the porch, to shake hands and talk about the weather and remind me to have you back by 10:00, and I’ll tell you how beautiful you look as I slide an orchid on your wrist. We’ll go to a fancy restaurant and trade bites of our entrees and steal a pepper shaker when we leave, just to see if we can get away with it. We’ll hold hands under the table and slow-dance like it means something, not just because we came together and it’s obligatory, and when I drop you at home, you might let me kiss you under the porchlight.

I pulled away to look up at him, at those gentle smoky eyes – gray like Gale’s and yet absolutely, utterly, nothing like Gale’s – and tried to decide whether to throttle him or burst into tears, because I knew he didn’t mean any of this the way it sounded but it was still the sweetest thing I’d ever heard – and remains so to this day. But I didn’t want Jude – I didn’t, I was sure of it – and he didn’t want me, he was just getting broody – in the hen fashion, not the Gale fashion – because of Peeta’s engagement and Columbine had remained stubbornly indifferent to him, even in a tux or stage makeup or a doublet and tights.

Please, can I go home? I whispered. I’ll call my parents so you don’t have to leave.

Don’t be daft, he said lightly, but his eyes were sad. There’s nothing left to stay here for anyway.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Columbine at the soda table laughing at something Gale had just said and was inclined to agree.

I didn’t go home, though Jude was more than willing to make the detour: I went to Rooba’s, because she had a spacious house and had invited our whole group to stay over after the after-prom party, to sleep till noon and enjoy a lazy brunch before going home. We were a remarkably well-behaved group of teens so it felt more like a church lock-in than anything else, except for the fact that I changed into my pajamas from an evening gown and slept in Lettie Wilhearn’s bedroom – sans Lettie, of course, Rooba having given her older kids the weekend off work and banished them to the lake cabin.

Jude didn’t say a word on the drive. When we got to his house he asked if I wanted anything to eat or drink, then obligingly disappeared after retrieving my overnight bag and directing me to the nearest bathroom.

I belatedly recalled that I was still wearing his tux jacket and intended to hang it on the back of Lettie’s desk chair when I turned in, but somehow I ended up taking it to bed with me as an additional makeshift cover, my nose burrowed in the comforting scent of his collar.

I dreamt about orchid corsages and hand-kisses and sneaking a pepper shaker into my purse and woke with sore, slightly puffy eyes, as though I’d cried myself to sleep. Lettie’s alarm clock read 11:18am in the blaring midday sun and in the papasan opposite me was Jude, curled up like a child with a pile of throw pillows under his tousled head. His eyes were open and contemplative and very carefully focused on the pillow adjacent to me.

Hey, I greeted him in a sleepy croak.

Hey, he replied softly, eyes flickering to mine. Do…do you hate me, mädchen?

I blinked rapidly, trying to think what he might have done to make me hate him or if he was just referring to the fact that we’d ended up sleeping in the same room, which didn’t bother me two pins. We’d fallen asleep on each other on the bus back from Knowledge Bowl tourneys and music competitions more times than I could count.

Why on earth would I hate you? I puzzled.

Because I…asked you out, he reminded me with a wince while still firmly maintaining eye contact, as though determined to stay strong for his sentencing.

At prom, I confirmed, a smile creeping irrepressibly across my mouth. It’s a bit like being in love with one’s own wife, Sir Percy. Demmed unfashionable.

The Scarlet Pimpernel was second on the Senior Lit slate and Jude had loved it just as much as I loved Jane Eyre.

Consequently, my remark won a grateful, crooked smile and I patted the bed beside me: an invitation Jude accepted without hesitation, stretching out his lanky frame with a groan and a breathless oof! as I flung my arms around his waist and pillowed my head on his chest.

I liked the smell and feel of Jude beneath my cheek. It felt like home – or going back there – and I think in that moment I finally realized those moments were numbered and swiftly counting down.

I’ve never been asked out before, you know, I reminded him. It was sweet; the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me. And anyway, you potentially asked me out, under a very specific set of circumstances.

True, he agreed, and that seemed to set everything to rights. Want go find some breakfast? he wondered, tracing my braid with a fingertip.

No, I replied firmly and nuzzled deeper into his t-shirt, hiding my face from the sun.

Me neither, he agreed, and curled his arms around me, hugging me snugly to him.

Jude had clearly passed a rougher night than me because he drifted off almost immediately and was still sleeping hard at 12:30, when the savory smells of Rooba’s thick-cut bacon and handmade sausages roused my belly and brain respectively. (I learned later that Luka and Johanna had commandeered Jude’s bed, not for anything sketchy, but that they were curled together and sound asleep by the time he finally made it there, hence being relegated to Lettie’s papasan – a fine place for reading and cat-naps but miserable for a night’s worth of sleep.) On my way to the bathroom I practically collided with Jenny, Jude’s fourteen-year-old sister, noshing on a bacon sandwich and voracious for gossip.

So are you and Jude together now? she demanded with all the cheerful frankness of their mother. I saw you cuddling in Lettie’s bed.

I had always adored Jenny Tolliver more than I would ever let on. She and Jude were the only full siblings among Rooba’s five children and the similarities were endearingly obvious, despite the fact that Jenny inherited their father’s stunning black hair where Jude was a tow-headed, gray-eyed hybrid.

That was snuggling, I corrected her. Small but crucial difference.

You should think about leveling up, she advised gravely. He adores you, you know, and I hear teenage weddings are coming back en vogue.

Go away, imp, I teased, unbothered by her implication. She’d wanted me and Jude to get together since our first season of Knowledge Bowl and stubbornly refused to acknowledge that we didn’t like each other that way. I need to find some coffee and then we can argue this further.

I’ll be waiting, she said gleefully, stepping aside to let me into the bathroom.

But Jenny and I never reconvened for that argument, because that afternoon was the start of the slow crumble of the perfect high school year. Not because of anything to do with Jude or prom or Katniss’s engagement: because of something I overheard on my way to the kitchen that ended up being far more significant than I could’ve imagined.

Rooba and Marek – the Mellarks’ bachelor uncle – were preparing all the cooked food for the sleepy teenage brunch binge but Peeta’s father had stopped by with an assortment of pastries from the bakery and was on his way out again, talking to Rooba on the back porch, when I passed by en route to the kitchen.

So they’re young, she was saying. They’re hard workers with good heads on their shoulders, and they both went through the wringer at a young age. They know how to provide for a family and will do whatever it takes to put food on the table. They’ll do fine – better than fine, if we help them out a bit.

Janek Mellark’s response to this wasn’t clear – something about waiting – and Rooba replied in a strange, edged tone: Would you wait if Alys was willing?

I moved away before I could hear his reply, if indeed he made one, and enthusiastically engaged burly, cheerful Marek in a debate as to which of his offerings – stuffed French toast, chocolate chip pancakes, or Belgian waffles – would be the best to start off with, but there was a hot thudding in my ears and my eyes couldn’t seem to focus.

Alys, of course, was Katniss’s mother Alyssum – my mother’s best friend and confidante from childhood to the present – and I knew through my mother that Alys and Janek Mellark had been high school sweethearts on the very cusp of getting engaged when she unexpectedly broke up with him to get together with Jack Everdeen. Janek married Raisa Brognar – Rooba’s younger sister – on the rebound and everyone had gone on to produce their respective children and find varying degrees of contentment in their lives, but by all accounts, the Mellarks had rarely if ever been happy together, and of course, Katniss’s father died six years ago, leaving Alys bereft and in a stupor of grief, not unlike my own mother when her twin sister died at sixteen.

According to my mother, Alys Everdeen and Janek Mellark had carefully avoided each other since their breakup in high school, but when Peeta and Katniss began dating, they were thrown together to a certain extent and forced to interact socially. Further, in an unguarded moment that winter, Janek had admitted to Alys that he was still in love with her – feelings, Alys confessed to my mother afterward, that she was troubled to find she returned.

Of course, I discussed this with no one but my mother, though many a time I’d ached to confide in Jude, since we were similarly on the fringes of this relationship – not directly involved but connected through our mothers and their own relationships with the couple in question.

Something about Rooba’s remark that morning after prom implied that things were changing or had done, maybe irrevocably, and when I asked my mother about it that afternoon she gave a long sigh and kissed my forehead as though I were still a little girl. Do you really want to know, petal? she wondered. It might be easier to be ignorant till it all comes out.

Of course, I wouldn’t be me if I hadn’t wanted to know, and that’s how I learned what happened after the newly engaged Peeta and Katniss left for prom. About the argument that ensued when Alys furiously confronted Janek about his son’s proposal – and what happened after the argument.

I suppose it shouldn’t have come as that great a shock, but when you hear about a classmate’s parents getting divorced, you don’t think about his father sleeping with another classmate’s mother – or getting her pregnant. But it was some months before all of that came out, months when I could almost forget the secret burning in the back of my mind as the perfect year wound down to its inevitable, poignant end.

#the one that got away #fic bits #jude/madge #jude tolliver #modern au

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ariistocracies · 6 years

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beep beep y’all it’s kay ( 20, est, she/her ) ur resident dumpster dweller popping in with one of my three hot mess of children ,, tony n jamie will be up soon depending on when i can get my shit together jdlks but heNYWAYS !! let me introduce u to this dumpster on fire known as danika ,, it will be in bulletpoints bc my attention span is v short and i’m at work. like this n i’ll shoot u message to plot or just yell at me in my dm’s hfbdjkf

ariana grande. cisfemale. she/her. — did you see { danika monroe }, i haven’t seen the { twenty-four } year old in a while! you know, they’re a { concept artist }, and have been living in jersey city for { two years }. some say they’re { peevish & judgmental }, but i think they’re { compassionate & gregarious }. regardless, i’m glad { dani } is here.

STATISTICS:

full name: danika blair monroe nicknames: dani or just danika hometown: edinburgh, scotland sexuality: pansexual gender: cisfemale birthday: june 12th, 1994 spoken languages: english, italian, & german hogwarts house: hufflepuff

BACKSTORY + PERSONALITY:

okie so danika was originally born and raised for the first 2 years of her life in the scottish countryside outside of edinburgh bc her mom and dad had a whirlwind romance when they were in their later years of university and got married following graduation bc they were already expecting danika

adanika’s mother moved to the small town where her husband was from ,, putting her aspirations of becoming an attorney on hold bc *vine vc* coUNTRY boYY i love youuu ow

so danika’s mom was p much holding down a reception job while her husband kinda just spent his time in bars when he wasn’t doing construction so their relationship fell apart p much after the honeymoon phase wore off .. so her mom had Enough and filed for divorce, won custody of danika and bounced back off to edinburgh to jump start her law career

so danika lived with her mom and grandparents and it was all v gucci !! given she was 2 so she didn’t have much of an opinion kjfdsjkfL ,, but growing up she absolutely loved living in edinburgh !! just enjoyed admiring the architecture and how it was a bustling tourist city and how genuinely happy everyone seemed ?? tbh she imagined she would live there for the rest of her life n not move bc her mom was there and it was all she knew

danika was always a v creative child growing up .. she loved reading and absolutely hated math and just did better in english class while always looking forward to art class ,, she loves to paint and draw but she’s slightly better drawing with pencils and such rather than paintbrushes

so ya girl stayed nearby for college bc she’s laME and would miss her mom too much skfjnk but she majored in art but also freelanced as an illustrator during that time,, she does commissions through her twitter account ( which she still does ) bc her specialty is character studies and landscapes but also did designs for a local card company for extra coin ,, prefers drawing ppl and also has a moleskin notebook that she carries on her at all times in her purse and just chills in chapter one and sketches ppl

she self taught herself how to draw on the tablet her mom got her for christmas so she alternates between hand drawn and digital art ,, her specialty is superheroes and has too many drawings of tony stark bc she’s weak for him ,, that and harry potter SHE WILL DRAW MORE DESPITE THE ABUNDANCE SHE HAS

danika is a giant nerd despite the *~*cool*~* exterior she puts up ,, lit she’s the biggest dumpster fire of all even tho she pretends to be a Cool Girl ,, lit her humor is basically lame jokes, vine references and pop culture references ,, but im sorry if her accent goes into overdrive when she’s talking about smth she’s passionate about bc it can be A Lot ,. casually it’s still present but she can pull it back to help ppl understand

she goes through weird spurs of random confidence where she’ll talk to new people and sign up for tinder but mainly does it when she needs a self confidence boost ,, but she’s a Chicken and the idea of going on dates scares the shit out of her mainly bc she hasn’t had a proper relationship ??

now that i think about it she’s had a brief relationship that lasted a few weeks but ended when danika felt like she was only being kept around for sex and that was not something she was ready to go through with since it meant more to her than him ,, just too worried and caught up in her anxiety to really put herself out there but one day hopes to be That Hoe if she builds up the confidence

probably has small crushes on everyone bc she loves 2 appreciate the good in everyone so she has issues deciphering when she really Likes someone ,, but even if she did truly like someone she avoids confrontation and responsibilities so she’ll just wither away without ever saying something

she made the move to jersey a little bit after graduating from university bc she got a job interview at a big name game developing studio in nyc and she was like lmao #yikes but her mom convinced her to buy a plane ticket and go and lo and behold !! she went and nailed the interview and got the job so she tearfully made the Official move to the states as a concept artist for the games being worked on in the studio

decided not to live in nyc bc hA that shit is expensive so she decided jersey city would be a decent commute so she got an apartment so hmu !!! if u need a roommate !! bc she def needs one

adores her british longhorn kitten that is snow white and bc she’s a nerd she named him draco but she loves him with all her heart and shows pictures to anyone who’s willing to listen to her love declarations

recently dyed her hair blonde bc she figured a change in her appearance would help for a change in how she presents herself and acts ,, trying to be more social and definitely a bit of the Mom Friend

listens to africa by toto unironically and truly loves it ,, and considers a gr8 night ordering in dominos and watching john mulaney comedy specials on netflix bc i hate hER .. so she’s branching out more and spreading her wings !!

#jrsy.intro #this is one long ramble #i am v sorry but also njskjsd my b pls luv me #and my garbage girl

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thechaoticwonderland · 6 years

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I finally have time to write, damn it! I have been MIA for the longest time (and Twitter has been basically my place for word vomit) but I swear I have been trying to write something here -- as proven by my numerous drafted posts. LOL. 😓

If you’ve been following me on Twitter or Instagram, I TURNED TWENTY FOUR a few months back. Yup, I have officially changed my profile every where to 24. I still can’t believe I am THAT old but meh.

I celebrated my birthday walking dogs and getting drunk around Sheung Wan and Central Hongkong with my boyfriend -- super low key but probably one of the best birthday celebrations ever! 💜 But I’d probably save a different post for that -- WHEN I FIND THE TIME AND ENERGY TO DO SO. (Possibly never, but let’s see lol)

And since I am T W E N T Y F O U R (ack!), I have decided to come up with a blog post on 24 life realizations I have at 24 - some are realizations I’ve had leading up to my 24th but you get my point. 😂

1. Love comes when you least expect it - cliché, I know. But I met my boyfriend at this random birthday party I gate-crashed AKA his 30th birthday. 😁 Long story short, we’ve been going out for over a year now. We both weren’t looking for anything then since he just got out of a toxic relationship, and I was casually going out with random people. But here we are. 😜

2. No need to rush things, do things at your own pace - I started my Masters over 2 years ago, and you’ve guessed it, most of my batch mates have their Masters degree already. 🙆🏾 At some point, I wanted to study full-time cos I’ve gotten envious of my friends. But since my parents are still (yep, I know. Shame on me) paying for my tuition fee, I don’t want to burden them with allowance expenses + my living expenses (If you’re new here, I actually live alone lol) so I need to keep my job. Now I’m 1 subject away from defending my paper! I’m almost there! And it’s actually not bad. 🤗

3. Don’t live beyond your means - Ahh, my dad’s favorite life lesson. I never thought about it then since I was living under my parents’ support, but now that I live alone I have to make ends meet month on month. In layman’s terms IF YOU CAN’T AFFORD IT, JUST DON’T.

4. Don’t put your eggs in one basket - I know I am not the best person to be all preachy about money (cos I am bad at handling my own finances, but I try) but I have 3 savings accounts in different banks. It comes in handy when one bank fucks shit up (like goes on a nationwide shut down *cough BPI*, or one that just eats up your card and your money from time to time *cough BDO*).

5. Your past doesn’t define you or how you’d succeed in the future - Another cliché saying, but I swear you get to realize why people say it often. I’ve done so much shit when I was younger but believe me when I say such experiences will help you realize stuff later on. After all, we learn from our mistakes and such mistakes will push us to be better people tomorrow.

6. Your choices in life are your own, don’t let people tell you otherwise - You will never share the exact same beliefs with everyone, I’m sure about that. Just do you and brush off other opinions, they don’t matter - believe me.

7. Keep your circle close and small - Your real friends genuinely care, the others are just curious. Be cautious.

8. Always be kind - And this applies to everyone: guards, maids, janitors, etc. Believe me, if you’re nice to everyone, it’s easier to ask for favors. 😜

9. Travel alone - You should try this at least once in your life, me thinks. It gave me a sense of liberty and independence! I did this when I was trying to mend my cracked heart - and I came back to Manila feeling all refreshed and happy. I guess I learned that I don’t need a man to survive! HAHA! 😂

10. Don’t complain, do something about it - Ranting is fine, human nature. But if you will just sit down and whine when something could actually be done, then maybe you should rethink your life choices honey. Instead of wasting your time and energy complaining, why don’t you stop and think? Things and answers won’t always be served to you on a silver platter, FIND WAYS. 😊

11. Don’t forget to remove your make up at the end of the day - PLEASE. Do yourself a favor and let your face breathe! 😛

12. ALWAYS MOISTURIZE AND PUT SPF - *i-capslock mo para intense!!!* I couldn’t stress this enough. I actually keep various moisturizers depending on the weather, I have intensive moisturizers for when I travel and light ones for the Philippine heat. Just please, never skip it!

13. One at a time - My boyfriend would always tell me this when I’m stressing over work, school, among other things. It helps, actually. Stop, arrange your thoughts, and do things one at a time.

12. Treat yourself - Now before you go crazy and tell me that this is a bad thing, I didn’t say you have to buy that expensive bag you’ve been eyeing on for so long because “I DESERVE IT”. Going back to point number 3, if you can’t afford it - IT’S A NO. It can be as simple as “I did a great job today, I deserve good coffee - not my usual pantry coffee”, which is my usual way of treating myself. If you can afford to buy that expensive bag to treat yourself, BY ALL MEANS DO IT. But always remember POINT NUMBER 3!

13. Family will always come first - Ah, this is one of the many things I realized growing up. Of course I was super excited to grow up so I can go out with my friends whenever I wanted to before. But when I moved out, I always look forward to weekends so I can come home to my family. What a baby, I know right?

14. Let go and let God - I am not the most religious person in the world, heck I barely even hear mass (I’m busy, but that’s not an excuse I’m sorry). But I really believe in greater power from above. I always find myself in hopeless situations, where I find my shitty ass crying myself to bed on most nights (add that I also live alone so imagine how bad it must be lol). But I usually find myself just getting through the worst days with little miracles. And I always thank God for that.

15. If you feel so happy with the wrong person, image how happy you’d be with the right one? - Eep, another cliché saying c/o me lol. But seriously, I thought I couldn’t be happy anymore when I once got my heart broken HAHAHA. Cut to mid-last year, I’m extremely happy -- waaay happier than before. Not saying I’m already with the person for me, though I really do hope so (HAHAHA yuck cheese) but I’m happier than before and I’m sure the person I’m with is a better person amongst all the guys I went out with before.

16. Take long walks. - I enjoy this so much especially abroad. I went on a birthday trip in Hong Kong and I spent 70% of the time walking - thinking and reflecting. 😅 I think long peaceful walks are good for everyone’s sanity.

17. Cut off toxic people. - Not everyone you lose is a loss. If they aren’t doing you good, what’s the use of keeping them?

18. Life is what you make it. - If you want something to happen, the first step starts with you. 😅 If you don’t take the first step, nothing will happen. SERIOUSLY. Everything doesn’t happen by chance!!!!!

19. You don’t have to have a reaction on everything. - I believe there are things better left unsaid. I know a lot of people would disagree. But I still think the saying “If you have nothing nice to say, just zip it” is still superior. Lol.

20. Work isn’t everything. - I recently had to stop working for a week and a half due to some health concerns. It sucked balls. But I came to realize work isn’t everything -- YOUR HEALTH (mental health included) IS WAY MORE IMPORTANT.

21. Quite connected to the bullet prior, Work can wait. - I have learned to keep work within working hours. Remember, work will always come and it will never be done. Know what’s most important and prioritize! That’s the key. Whatever’s left can be done tomorrow. You don’t have to spend 12 hours in the office all day and stress out on work, tbh.

22. Choose your battles. - Not everything is worth stressing over. (remember point 19!) 😋

23. Respect begets respect. - Respect opinions, respect people - young and old alike. Sometimes we just have to learn to agree to disagree.

24. Live life to the fullest. - Another cliché saying, but honestly you’ll never be as young as you are today. Make mistakes so you will never make the same ones in the future, learn the ropes of life through the decisions you make everyday. Not everything will go our way, that’s for sure, but life is only what we make of it.

I hope you got to pick something up from my blabbing. To be honest, it took me months to finish this list since I barely have time in my hands. Lol. 😬

I missed you, Tumblr! ✨

#Filipina Blogger #Filipino Blogger #Adulting #Growing Up #Thoughts #Life Lessons #Work #lovely #Self-love

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