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headfullofpresley · 6 months

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𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 4,5K

Summary: You and Elvis are always playing pranks on each other. This Halloween, you come up with a prank that goes horribly wrong as Elvis doesn't think it's so funny and gets genuinely upset. But like always, your partner eventually comes around and gets his revenge.

Warnings: strong language, playing with a ouija board, fake demonic possession, mentions of the devil, elvis being upset, elvis calling reader a bitch, pranks that you probs shouldn't use on other people, tiny bit of angst, reader and larry gellar disliking each other. guess that's it?

A/N: hello, hi! i guess this isn't really spooky but felt like it fit the season! there's pranks in this that i don't advise you to use on anyone unless that's you're kind of humor. wrote this in an hour or so because it randomly popped into my mind and well... i thought it was funny 👀. just want to make clear that this is in no way me making fun of elvis' spirituality in any way, nor is reader, if some people might think thatttt or if it comes across as that. just wanted to write something else rather than a vamp!elvis fic like my brain already was thinking about for halloween, AAAAH. also, this doesn't include all members of the mm or any of the other guys because i didn't know where to place them. okay, bye. p.s: be a smart cookie and don't use a ouija board.

Elvis didn’t care for Halloween.

Never did when he was young and never did as he was growing into an adult. Sure, when he was a little boy and his friends would drag him along to go trick or treating he could appreciate the free candy, but that was about it. After complaining about the people in scary costumes on the street when he was around 7, his mother stopped him from going out on All Hallow’s Eve and he appreciated her doing so.

As he got older, he’d usually be working on the last day of October and whenever he wasn’t, he would rent out the Memphian and watch horror movies with the guys, other friends and some of his fans. He enjoyed playing pranks and scaring the shit out of the people around him, but that’s where celebrating Halloween ended for Elvis.

His Christianity or beliefs didn’t have anything to do with it. He simply preferred holidays that involved lots of homecooked foods, spreading joy, giving gifts and being surrounded by his loved ones. Like Thanksgiving and especially, Christmas.

You on the other hand are obsessed with Halloween. You always put a lot of effort in your costumes and Elvis allowed you to put carved pumpkins by the front door with a lit candle inside of it, but he wouldn’t celebrate with you in any other way than watching movies. You were too old to go trick or treating, so you were happy when Lisa Marie was over at Graceland on some Halloween evenings to do so with her, but this year she unfortunately was in California with her mother.

This Halloween you put little effort into your costume, opting for a black cat suit with a tail, some drawn on whiskers that complimented the dark eye make-up you were sporting, and a pair of black cat ears. Elvis wasn’t complaining because you looked smoking hot in it, but he wasn’t aware that you chose this simple outfit because you had bigger plans for tonight that involved… well, let’s say, a lot of action.

After watching a few movies at the Memphian with Elvis, some fans and the guys, you all made it back to Graceland. It was only around 1 in the morning which was early for the bunch you were living with, so nobody was tired yet. Which was good, because you and Charlie Hodge had come up with the perfect prank to play on Elvis and the two of you managed to convince everyone to get involved in it.

The only one who wasn’t up for it was Larry Gellar and you were slightly worried that he’d out your little plan and ruin the whole thing. You were praying that he’d just go home already, but much to your chagrin, he was sitting on the couch and conversing with Elvis, not looking as if he’d leave any time soon. You were just going to have to risk it.

“Let’s play a game!” You chirped happily as you held up a plastic bag, pulling off your cat tail and throwing it by the side of the couch. “I found this today at the store. The sales girl told me it’s the perfect game to play during Halloween, because then you know it really works,”

Elvis watches with curiosity as you pull a large box out of the bag, turning it around and showing him the front. As he realises you were holding up a ouija board, he was immediately intrigued. Ever the curious person, especially when it came to things about spirituality, Elvis slides to the edge of the couch and takes the box out of your hands, opening the lid to take the board out and inspect it.

“Hell no, I ain’t playin’ that,” Lamar immediately says as he glances at the board and you try to suppress a grin. His reaction was the one you told him to give. If Lamar would play, Elvis was going to take the chance to tease the hell out of him for a week straight because Lamar scared easily when it came to these things.

“Ah c’mon, Fike. It’ll be fun,” Elvis grins as he places the board in the middle of the coffee table. You give Charlie a quick thumbs up and he grins, agreeing to play the game. Sonny and Red agree as well, but Larry decides to sit this one out. You were happy about that and as you go around the living room to dim the lights and light some candles, you feel instantly annoyed when you hear Larry’s voice.

“Elvis, I don’t think this is a good idea. Playing with an object like that can be dangerous, you know?” Larry chimes in, looking at Elvis with worried eyes. Never really having liked Larry, you roll your eyes. Elvis doesn’t see it but Red does and he sticks his finger in his mouth, feigning a gag. The two of you silently laugh and you sit down on the floor by the table, Elvis sliding onto the floor next to you.

“It’s not dangerous, baby. It’s just a game,” you quickly tell Elvis as Larry once more expresses his concern. Elvis looks at Larry once more before he turns to you and grins, kissing the corner of your mouth as he grabs the planchet and puts it on the board. Larry gives you an annoyed glare and you ignore it, happy that he decides to retreat back into the kitchen. Joe sits back on the couch along with Billy to watch the game unfold, simply because there wasn’t enough space for more fingers on the planchet.

“You sneaky sonofabitch. You’re the one movin’ that thing!” Elvis exclaims in slight annoyance as he glares at Sonny who sat on the opposite side of the table. Sonny widens his eyes, trying his best to hold back a laugh as he shakes his head.

“I swear to God, I ain’t doin’ it!”

You and Charlie exchange a knowing look. It was the two of you taking turns sneakily moving the planchet with the tips of your fingers, but Elvis didn’t notice a thing. He was too intrigued and focused on the words “it”, or in this case you, were spelling out. You hadn’t propeely opened communication or whatsoever, so the board wasn’t working at all. You believed that a ouija board could truly work if you wanted it to and you could communicate with… well, someone or something, but that wasn’t the intention for tonight.

You just wanted to play the prank of the century on your man like he has done to you so many times before.

All of you ask random questions at first that require simple answers. Then you decide to take matters further into your own hands and add up the dramatics a notch. You needed it to be spooky. Elvis doesn’t scare easily, the morgue trips he often makes with you were proof of that, and you want him to be terrified tonight.

“Someone dies tonight.”

All of you exchange uncomfortable glances, though only that of Elvis was real. He shifts a little on the floor and takes his finger off the planchet, accusing Charlie instead of Sonny now.

“Hodge, stop pullin’ my leg with this bullshit!” He huffs and Charlie widens his eyes, scared that you and him got caught, and just as he opens his mouth to defend his case, you speak up.

“Elvis! You’re not allowed to take your hands off of it without saying goodbye!” You grab his hand and bring it back to the board, putting his finger back on the planchet. He looks at you and scoffs, squinting his eyes.

“Oooh, I see. It’s you, ain’t it?”

You mentally curse yourself. Was your acting that bad? Shaking your head as you give him your most serious face, you tell him that it’s truly not you who is moving the planchet and before he can question you further, Charlie sneakily spells out something else.

“The girl.”

“That’s it. I ain’t playin’ no more. Say goodbye, goddamnit,” Elvis barks in annoyance. He wasn’t going to admit it out loud but he truly believed the planchet was moving by itself and spelling out these things. He was having fun when they started and asked random and silly questions, but now it was getting a little too serious for him.

A little too scary.

This thing was threatening your life and he felt a sense of paranoia fill his chest. What if you’d really die because of this stupid game?

No. No, you weren’t going to die. It’s just a game. It’s not real- he refuses to believe it’s real.

You quickly say goodbye along with everyone else, moving the planchet over the word before taking your hands off. You bite your lip to hold back a laugh and wrap your arms around Elvis’ neck as he leans back against the couch, crossing his arms after he shoved the board across the table. You giggle softly and hug him, planting kisses on his cheek.

“Stop that worryin’. It’s just a game, El, nothing is going to happen.”

Although he doesn’t believe you and is still worried, he slides his arms around your waist and pulls you onto his lap, hugging you back.

You spent the rest of the late evening playing some music and Elvis doing a spontaneous jam session, which got his mind off of that damned ouija board. After all, it was just a game. Nothing was going to happen and tomorrow afternoon, he’d wake up with you in his arms.

Alive and well.

But as you two got upstairs to his bedroom and got ready for bed, he wasn’t going to take no risks. There was a baseball bat leaning against the wall by the door and a hand gun laying atop of his Bible on the bedside table. You look at it as you got into bed where Elvis already was, sitting against the headboard with the TV on.

“What are you gonna do? Shoot a ghost?” You joke with a soft snort and he looks at you, simply nodding his head.

“Hell. I will if I have to,”

“My protector,” You swoon playfully as you run your fingers through his hair, laughing. He chuckles softly and sighs, kissing your lips before he allows you to settle in the bed. You pretend to watch some TV with him but couldn’t contain your excitement, curious to know what his reaction was going to be when the best part of the prank would play out.

Since you fell asleep pretty quick most of the time, Elvis didn’t think anything of it when he heard you lightly snoring as you had turned your back to him. He had his arm leaning across your hip, needing to touch you in one way or another, always. Unbeknown to him, you were wide awake and looking at the alarm clock on your side of the bed. You had told Charlie to give you twenty minutes before you’d set things into motion and as that amount of time had passed, you started off your little prank slow.

Ease Elvis into it, so to speak.

Pretending you were having a nightmare, you twitch lightly while mumbling some soft incoherent sentences, moaning uncomfortably. Elvis who was still wide awake moves his hand from your hip to your hair, caressing it soothingly as he sits up a little to look over at you. Figuring you’re still sleeping, he leans back against the headboard of the bed but only a split second later, you suddenly shoot up to sit in the bed. Startled, his heart skips a beat and he quickly sits up again too, moving some of your hair over your shoulder. He’s familiar with sleepwalking, but he has never seen you do it before. He knows not to wake someone when they’re in a state like this nor call out their name, but his worries grow by tenfold as your body slumps against him.

And then starts twitching and goddamn near convulsing as you throw your head back. He widens his eyes in shock as your eyes roll in the back of your head, your arms hanging limp by your side. Holding your frame, he tries to keep you still as he cups your face.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He slaps your cheek softly, unsure of what to do in a situation like this. He curses loudly as he reaches over to the phone on the bedside table, putting it to his ear as he calls downstairs and yells to whoever is on the other end of the line to come upstairs.

Like clockwork, Charlie comes running in not much later and feignes a gasp at the sight of your state. Elvis looks over at him, desperate for help.

“Goddamnit, Charlie, do somethin’!” Elvis yells as your body seems to be twisting and turning into uncomfortable positions, arching your back as you let out deep groans and grunts. You didn’t even know your voice could get that low, but you were impressed by yourself.

An eerie feeling washes over Elvis and he slowly lets go of you as you push yourself out of arms, standing on top of the bed. And then you just start… laughing.

Like an absolute maniac.

The sound sent shivers down Elvis’ spine and he quickly got off the bed, standing next to Charlie as they both look at you, unsure of what was happening. Well, at least one of them. Charlie was completely sucked up into his role though and he took a step back, fear in his eyes.

He was a damn good actor.

Something clicked inside of Elvis’ brain as you look at him with a menacing look in your eyes, smirking like the Devil himself just walked into the room.

That goddamned board.

“Get my Bible,” Elvis orders Charlie, never taking his eyes off of you. Charlie does as he’s told and grasps the Bible from the bedside table, handing it to Elvis. The singer takes off the necklace he was wearing with a cross pendant hanging on the silver chain and hands it to Charlie, looking at the smaller male.

“Put this on her forehead,”

“Elvis...” Charlie widens his eyes, holding onto the necklace and pretending to be terrified of going near you. “Can’t we.. can’t we just call an ambulance?!”

Charlie was going to do whatever Elvis told him to do anyways because it makes the situation seem more natural but even if he wouldn’t be acting, the glare that Elvis gives him is enough to have him sprint into action. He runs over to the bed and pulls you down, keeping you down on the mattress as he presses the cross against your forehead. As you look at Charlie, you have to try your damnest not to ruin things and laugh, but luckily you manage to stay in your role.

Writhing on the bed and trying to get out of Charlie’s grip with what truly is little effort but looks like a lot, you let out a bloodcurdling scream. Elvis comes closer to the bed while he is quickly reciting any kind of prayer he thinks might work, reading psalm after psalm. He’s taken back for a second when you did what Charlie and you rehearsed- kicking the brunette off of you and making him land on the floor. You swear you could hear Charlie chuckling, but Elvis is only focused on you.

Now you are the one that is taken back as he gets on top of you and grabs your wrists, holding them above your head as he’s still reciting prayers. He’s yelling at the non existent demon inside of you to get the hell out and Charlie has to muffle a laugh in the palm of his hand, curious about what you were going to do because neither of you expected this.

You felt a laugh bubbling in the back of your throat, so before it could come out, you stop writhing on the bed and drop your head to the side, pretending that the prayers worked and it has all come to an end. Elvis sat on top of you for a few more minutes until he releases your hands and gets up, closing his Bible. He watches you, ready to once more go into action as he sees you casually sit up and get up from the bed. He frowns a little as you walk over to Charlie and hook your arm through his, clearing your throat.

“The end.” You and Charlie gracefully bow, bursting out into uncontrollable laughter.

Until you notice one person in the room isn’t laughing.

Feeling the mood shifting in the room and as if a thunderstorm just passed over Graceland, you stop laughing as you see Elvis glaring at the both of you. You walk over to him as he throws his Bible on the bed and cup his face, but he’s quick to swat your hands away and get back into his bed.

“Elvis, c’mon. Don’t be mad, baby. We were just having a little fun,” you laugh softly, sitting on the edge of his side of the bed. He turns his head to look at you, his blue eyes icy cold. You weren’t unfamiliar with that look but usually it was something more serious that brought it on and you never liked it.

But what you weren’t realising is that this was serious to Elvis. He thought he was going to lose you to some freaky demonic entity.

“Get out.” He simply states in a low voice, turning his head back to the TV that was still on. You look at Charlie and he gives you a little nod, taking you out of the room with him.

You succeeded in pranking the prank master, but you’re afraid you pushed him too far and that simply wasn’t worth it.

You figured Elvis would be over it by the day after Halloween and things would go back to normal. But then again, you know Elvis like the back of your hand and although you were not surprised by him ignoring you for a week straight, you were still hurt.

When he learned that all of the guys were involved in your little prank, he let them have a piece of his mind and that was that. But you were walking on eggshells. He even made you sleep in Lisa Marie’s bedroom for that entire week.

By Sunday night, you were fed up with it. Maybe you had taken things too far, but it was just idiotic that he wouldn’t even let you sleep in the same bed as him.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” He snaps as he watches you burst into the bedroom and get into the bed next to him, fluffing your pillow.

“What does it look like?” Maybe you don’t have the right to be annoyed with him, but you are. He knows how much you hate to be ignored and you’ve been worrying yourself all week with all sorts of doom scenarios, like him ending the relationship.

He grabs your arm to pull you out of bed but you sit up and pull your arm out of his grasp, the words flying rapidly off your tongue. “Good God, Elvis. I’ve told you I’m sorry about a thousand times, but you don’t wanna hear it! You haven’t spoken a word to me in a week. At least yell at me, be angry with me, do something!”

His nostrils flare as his jaw clenches and he sits up more straight, turning his body into your direction.

“You want me to yell? Be angry? Fine!” He barks harshly, his loud rich voice booming off the walls. “I thought I was gon’ fuckin’ lose you that damn night! I thought you really were gon’ die, Y/N. That there was some sonofabitch inside of ya who was takin’ ya away from me. If you think that’s so hilarious, well hell, then you really are an evil bitch,”

You weren’t hurt by him calling you a bitch. You and Elvis fought enough times in the past that involved ugly name calling but you always made up minutes later. It never lasted for days. But learning that he was truly afraid of losing you in that moment causes your heart to clench uncomfortably in your chest. You feel a pang of guilt in your gut and your shoulders slump, tears burning in your eyes as you could see a tear rolling down Elvis’ cheek. He quickly wipes it away and looks at the TV set, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Elvis, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” You exclaim breathlessly as you crawl closer to him and hide your face in his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His body tenses up but then he quickly relaxes under your touch and wraps his arms around your frame, placing one hand on the back of your head to press you firmer against him. “i didn’t mean to scare you like that, I really didn’t. I just thought it would be a fun prank for Halloween. I never thought it’d turn out like this.”

It was never your intention to truly hurt Elvis or emotionally scare him. Deep down inside, Elvis knows this and he feels a little guilty about giving you the cold shoulder for a week, but he doesn’t feel the need to apologize to you for that. Instead, he accepts your apology with a long tender kiss and then cups your cheeks as he looks into your eyes.

“You can prank me, baby, jus’… no more pranks like that, okay?” He whispers as he brushes some hair out of your face, thumbing a tear away from the corner of your eye. You nod, promising him that you’ll never do something like this again and keep it at small pranks only.

That same night, you and Elvis stand outside at the back of Graceland, watching the ouija board melt into mush in the firepit.

He wasn’t going to take any chances and forbids you to play with a board like that for the rest of your life. You have no problem promising him that you will never touch another ouija board again and content with your answer, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and looks at the flames.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, Little,” he whispers as he presses his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo before he kisses your head. You wrap your arm around his waist and hold him close as you nod, resting your head against his chest. “I can’t lose ya. Ever.”

“I promise, Elvis,” you say as you raise your head and look up at him, kissing his chin. “You’ll never lose me. Even the Devil can’t take me away from you.”

He grins at your words and pecks your lips, but then he pulls his head back and looks past you, frowning. Curious, you look over your shoulder and a hot feeling of fear immediately spreads throughout your chest, widening your eyes as you see two man wearing scary wolf masks stalking toward you and Elvis.

It was only you and your boyfriend at the house tonight, but still when one of the men grabs you and a few others that came from the other side of the premises grab Elvis, you scream at the top of your lungs for help. It doesn’t do much and your vision is taken from you as you’re being blindfolded, a hand being placed firmly over your mouth.

You were thrown in the back of a car and after driving for what felt like hours, you were being lifted out of the car. You couldn’t speak as one of the men had shoved what you guessed was a tie in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop cussing at them in the back of the car. You were surprised they hadn’t knocked you unconscious yet.

You were terrified of what was to come, but more so you were worried sick about Elvis. The last thing you had seen were a couple of masked maniacs overpowering him and dragging him away. Having no idea where he was or if he was even still alive, you were determined to break free and get out of where ever you were.

You needed to get to Elvis. The thought of never seeing him again made your head spin, feeling like you were about to either faint or be ill.

Despite your inner turmoil, you didn’t stop fighting your kidnappers. Not even as you were being placed on a chair, your hands tied behind your back and your ankles tied together. As the fabric was pulled out of your mouth, you were about to scream again until your blindfold was taken off. As your eyes adjust to your surroundings, you widen your eyes when you see Elvis and the Memphis Mafia standing in front of you, all wearing shit eating grins.

You realise you’re sitting in the pool room.

The guys all burst out into rumbling laughter, Elvis included, and he bends down to be at your eye level, his hands placed on his knees as he grins.

“Honey, I’m gon’ say this once and for all,” he bites his lip as he laughs, that mischievous little boy gleam in his eyes. “Don’t prank the master.”

You sarcastically laugh along with him as he unties you, glaring at Lamar who was having an uncontrollable fit of giggles when he tells you you should’ve seen yourself when him and Sonny were driving you around the block to make you think you were being taken somewhere else.

You stand up from the chair as Elvis has let you free and grab a poolstick from the wall. Red snickers.

“We should probably start runnin’ now, huh?”

“Yup.” Elvis smirks, popping the ‘P’ as he shoves the guys out of the way and starts making a run for it. You were immediately hot on all of their heels, your main suspect being Elvis, as you yell profanities at them while trying not to laugh.

Both you and Elvis know that this was only the start of what would become a very, very long prank war and you’re determined to take his title away from him, although you doubted you’d succeed at that.

As long as it didn’t involve ouija boards and any kind of demonic possession, Elvis was ready for whatever you had planned for him. But just to be absolutely sure, he made a mental reminder to have Lisa Marie stay at Graceland for Halloween next year so he could benefit of the free candy and admire your matching costumes with his daughter rather than thinking he was going to have to give you up to the Devil.

Because one way or another, he would shoot the sonofabitch.

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wintervalewritersecond · 1 year

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siren song IV - xavier thorpe

masterlist

requested: yes! requests: open!

A/N: again, thank you so much for the love on siren song (and all my other fics) <3 this is BY FAR the most popular fic i have ever written. enjoy the new chapter and let me know what you think in the replies! :) how are you guys feeling about the announcement for a second Wednesday season? :O

wordcount: 8,854!! warnings: she/her reader, tyler being up to something, straying off of the timeline of the show, talks of drugs/weed, guns

You decide to meet up with Xavier. Maybe a fresh start is what you both need.

Xavier had woken up extremely early already. He just couldn't go back to sleep - you remembered him. You texted him, you even wanted to talk to him again. It is now eleven am, and his hands are shaking as he tries to send you a message.

xav!

Good morning :) When should we meet?

He sends the text before he can think about it. He had just gotten out of the shower, his damp hair still hanging loose as he looks into the mirror. What should he wear? He can't believe it.

Y/N ♡

morning!! does 12 suit you? we can meet up in the quad and then take a shuttle to jericho :)

Twelve. Yeah. Yeah, that's totally fine. Just one more hour of complete stress and nervousness. He doesn't even quite know why he is nervous - you have been his best friend for ages. Up until the fight. He should remember to thank Bianca for breaking the song.

You are also starting to get ready, trying to pick out an outfit as Bianca sits on your bed. You had called her over as you were also nervous about this whole thing. How were you going to break it to him that you didn't quite remember him yet?

"You don't have to be nervous," the Siren says, almost as if she can read your mind. "Xavier really likes you, Y/N. If you're really not comfortable with this, I can just tell him that you couldn't make it."

"It's fine," you nod. "It's just... What if he is upset that I don't remember?"

Bianca breathes in deeply as she takes a good look at you.

"He won't be," she reassures you. "He is already happy that you are talking to him. I promise that nothing will go wrong."

You let out an airy laugh. Bianca is right. But still, it seems hard to calm your nerves. You glide your hands over the fabric of your top as you look into the mirror for what seems like the hundredth time. Five outfits had already been discarded before you settled on this one.

A spritz of perfume and a set of accessories is what it takes to finally settle on one outfit. You brush your hair out once more, even though you knew there weren't any knots in it. It's like a nervous habit. The bag that you were going to take gets filled up with your most important things, like your wallet, perfume, keys to your dorm, and a small bottle of water.

"I have to go," you look at your phone. "I will see you later?"

"Sure," Bianca nods, walking with you. "Just shoot me a text."

With a wave, she turns away as you lock the door to your room. Your hand rests on its handle for a second as you collect your thoughts. No time, Xavier is waiting for you. You grip your tote bag a bit tighter to you before hurrying down the stairs. As you get to the Quad, you see that Xavier is already sitting at one of the tables, his leg bouncing up and down as his fingers tap the wood.

You breathe in deeply one last time, trying to calm your nerves as you walk up to him, softly tapping his shoulder. He turns around quickly, a big, relieved smile on his face as he stands up. How are you supposed to greet him? You only look at him, taking in his face that feels so oddly familiar.

"Hey!" He smiles, nervously wiping his hands on his pants.

How does he greet you? Normally, it would be a hug and a kiss on your forehead, but it might seem out of place at this moment. A normal hug? A handshake? Maybe nothing at all.

The two of you stand opposite of each other, not really sure what to do. After a few silent moments, you speak up.

"So, should we take a shuttle to Jericho?"

"Yeah! Yeah, sounds good."

You walk to the small stop next to Nevermore, making some small talk with Xavier.

"Xavier?"

He hums before looking down at you.

"I have to admit something," you nervously laugh. "The Siren Song... It uh, it couldn't really be undone."

"It couldn't?"

Xavier his shoulders slump as he feels a pang in his chest. He had fully convinced himself that it had been undone. That you remembered him again.

"No," you whisper. "Bianca told me what happened though."

The boy nervously fiddles with his hands, wishing that the bus would just arrive already.

"I asked her to end it. It just didn't work," a sigh escapes your lips. "But I wanted to restart. Just, from the beginning. If we became friends once, we can do that again, right?"

You heard what had happened, yet you still wanted to give him another chance?

"Yeah," he smiles. "That sounds good."

The bus ride was pretty quiet. It was only for a few minutes anyway - Jericho was much faster to reach by bus than by walking. You step out of the bus, looking up at Xavier with a smile.

"So, I was thinking we could just go to the Weathervane, talk about some things, eat and drink?"

Xavier agrees. Honestly, it is already going better than he thought, minus the unbroken Siren Song. The fact that you were willing to give him another chance mended the mental wounds that he had. He had spent the last few weeks trying to find a moment to talk to you, to tell you that he is sorry, and now, he is finally here.

The small bell above the entrance rings when Xavier opens it, gesturing for you to get inside as he follows. Behind the register stands Tyler, a smile on his face as he greets you. He doesn't as much as bat an eye at Xavier, though. From what the barista understood, the two of you weren't a thing anymore.

"What can I get you? Coffee, cappuccino-"

"She doesn't drink coffee," Xavier says blankly, glaring at Tyler. "A hot chocolate with whipped cream and caramel drizzle, and a cappuccino."

Tyler raises his hands in defense, looking from Xavier to you and back to his cash register.

"I'm sure that Y/N can speak for herself, but sure. One hot chocolate, whipped cream, and caramel," Tyler taps on the screen of the register. "And a cappuccino. It will be right up."

You quickly hand him the money before Xavier can, thanking him as you guide the long-haired boy to a table.

"Wow, what happened between you two," you awkwardly laugh. "If he was mean, then now is the perfect time to tell me. Telekinesis is good for lots of things, including letting people trip."

Xavier lets out a laugh as he shakes his head.

"Just some bad experiences with him, no worries," he shrugs. "So, are your parents coming by for Visiting Week?"

You shake your head. Your parents haven't visited in the last two years, too busy to make time to visit. They weren't bad parents by any means, but just extremely busy and too far away from Jericho to stop by.

Xavier knew this.

Normally, you would join Ajax and his moms for a bit before doing some activities on your own. His own dad never showed up anyway, he didn't even bother inviting him anymore. The answers were always the same; too busy, too tired, too far away.

So, after your parents also decided to not visit, the two of you made a pact. You were simply going to be doing all the activities together. The dinner in the Quad, the picnic in the grassy fields, and then the last day you would sneak off to the art shed.

"We can hang out if you'd like?" Xavier smiles. "We uh- we had some sort of pact. Before all this."

Your head rests on your hand as you look at him with a smile.

"What pact?"

"Well," he chuckles. "Considering my dad never visits, and your parents are also too busy, we decided to start a pact around two years ago. We did all the activities that normally get done with the families, and then sneak off to the art shed."

"Wait..." You raise an eyebrow. "We also sat with Ajax's moms, right?"

Xavier nods excitedly. It feels good to finally be able to talk to you again, even if you don't remember everything.

"Sounds like a plan!"

A figure stops next to your table, making you look up. Tyler stands with a tray in his hand, your two drinks and another small dish on top of it.

"A cappuccino," he mumbles, placing it somewhere in front of Xavier. "And I have a hot chocolate with whipped cream and caramel drizzle!"

You smile and thank him as you take the mug. But, he places one more thing on the table - a cinnamon roll complete with fresh fruits and pink sprinkles.

"And a small sweet," Tyler smiles at you, one side of his mouth peeking just a bit higher than the other. "Consider it a gift."

Steam almost comes out of Xavier's ears. Sure, Tyler must have noticed the tension between you and him, and he must have seen you walk around Jericho without Xavier stuck to your side, but blatantly trying to flirt with you in front of him?

"Oh!" You exclaim. "Wow, thank you, Tyler!"

He nods with a big grin on his face before walking off with the tray. Luckily Xavier doesn't have 'murder vision' as his power. If arrows would be able to shoot out of his eyes, then Tyler would be dead right now.

"That was kinda weird," you look from Tyler to Xavier. "I don't remember him doing that before."

"Because he didn't. At least, not with me here."

You shake your head, frowning before sipping your drink.

"Weird. At least I can share it with you?"

Xavier moves his gaze to you as his eyes soften. How can he say no> He nods before taking a sip of his own drink, looking out of the window to see different people walking by.

You, on the other hand, are only focussing on the person in front of you. The way his hair frames his face, his eyes, his hands, his nose - he is truly breathtaking. When he looks back at you, he is surprised to see you staring at him. You had done this before the song as well, and he never understood why.

"What?" He laughs.

"Nothing," you shake your head before sitting up straighter. "You want a piece of a cinnamon roll?"

You shared the pastry with Xavier as you listened to his stories. He also listened to yours, even though he had heard them many times before. He didn't care - he loves to listen.

The small bell rings again as Wednesday steps into the cafe. She walks up to the register, deadpanning as she asks for one of the strongest coffee drinks that you could imagine. As she walks out, she stops in front of your table. She didn't expect you both to be there. Her mind has been too preoccupied with hunting down a monster.

"Y/N," she nods. "Xavier."

Xavier awkwardly waves at her as you smile, greeting the sinister girl.

"Wednesday! Surprised to see you here!"

"Well," she looks at you, sipping the quad that she ordered. "I have pressing things occupying my mind. This is the only place where I can order a quad."

She wouldn't tell you about the monster - she felt like you had more on your mind as well. Besides, how would you react if she blamed your best friend to be the monster that attacked both Rowan and Eugene?

"I better go. This cafe makes me want to gouge my own eyes out."

The pig-tailed girl exits the cafe, drink in hand as Thing sits on her shoulder. Xavier nervously eyes you, yet you only seem to smile. You really don't remember the entire fight. You don't remember how bad of a friend Xavier had really been.

The entire day was spent in Jericho as you and Xavier had to run back to the bus stop, catching the last shuttle bus back to Nevermore. You are out of breath as you let yourself fall on the seat. Xavier, though used to running, also has to catch his breath as he lets out a laugh. The two of you had spent a bit too long in Uriah's Heap, looking at all the strange little creatures that had been displayed.

After the shuttle bus stops at Nevermore, you quickly get out. It was not that late and you still had some time before it was lights out. You had spent all day talking to Xavier, yet you didn't want to let him go just yet.

"Hey, you talked about buying new sketchbooks, right?"

Xavier nods. He had bought two new sketchbooks and some other supplies, all in his bag.

"Well," you look at him. "I was thinking that we could hang out somewhere? Maybe one of our dorms or the Nightshade library?"

You want to stay with him longer? His heart jumps a beat as he nods.

"Good idea! We can stay in the library and then sneak off to our own dorms."

The two of you find your way to the Poe statue, walking down the stairs to find the empty library. It didn't get used too much - most of the Nightshades were only here during the night, for parties, or to have a moment of silence.

You had bought a new book anyway, so you were certain that you would be able to sit in the library for a while. That is if you even get to read it. Xavier and you were planning to read and draw in the small park, yet you couldn't stop talking.

After pushing two chairs and a small table together, you both sit down. The table is filled with stuff that you had brought from Jericho, including some drinks, food, and your books and pencils.

"Xavier?"

He hums, looking up from his sketchbook.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"This whole... Thing. I shouldn't have gotten jealous, and I shouldn't have begged Bianca to use her Song on me," you mumble, your fingers playing with the thin piece of paper. "I feel like I should have dealt with it differently."

"Hey, you shouldn't say sorry," Xavier frowns, turning his body to you. "If anything, I was just a shitty friend. I had been meaning to apologize to you, but Kent and Bianca were watching you at all times. I... I just got too much in my own head, overthinking everything. I-"

He can't say he likes you.

He can't.

You don't even remember the way the two of you used to act together. It was technically a romantic relationship already, just never made official. You had movie nights, dinner dates, sleepovers, and even hugged and held hands often.

"I am just happy that you are willing to give me a second chance."

A smile forms on your face as you look at him. You wouldn't even be surprised if you found out that you liked him as more than friends before the Song took its effect on you.

"I just wish I could remember at least something," you sigh. "I don't know your birthday or favorite color - I don't even know what movies you like!"

Xavier lets out a laugh, shaking his head before leaning back in his chair.

"I mean, if you're still up for the whole thing during the Visiting Week, we might have enough time to get it all figured out."

A daring move.

"I would love that," you reply, a big smile on your face as you look back at your book, trying to distract yourself from the mesmerizing boy in front of you.

The rest of the evening was spent with stories, Xavier showing you some drawings, you reading parts of your book to him, and snacks with drinks.

"It's almost time for lights out," a sigh leaves your lips as you close your book, stuffing it in your bag. "I guess it's time to go?"

"Yeah," Xavier yawns.

His fingers hurt from holding the pencil, sketching away at different drawings while trying new techniques. The book now had some of its pages filled with portraits of you, some sketches of the food he ate, and also some animals. All of the art supplies get put in his bag as he stands up, dusting off his pants.

The two of you are still chatting when you reach the split point - you were to go to the right, and Xavier would have to leave for the left. Even though you had spent hours of your day with him, you still didn't really feel like letting him go just yet.

"Xavier?"

A hum leaves his lips as he rubs his eyes. He didn't even realize how sleepy he had gotten. After walking through Jericho, mentally beating up Tyler, running to the shuttle bus, and hiding away in the library, he could use some sleep.

"Thank you for today," you mumble, softly pulling on the hem of your sweater. "I really enjoyed it."

He smiles at you, his eyes a bit droopy.

"I did too," he nods, "I think it's time to run back to our dorms. I have seen Thornhill when I sneaked out of your room multiple times. She might seem sweet, but..."

You giggle as you readjust the bag on your shoulder. It feels weird to just turn around and walk away. How did you greet him before? I mean, just this morning you only tapped him on the shoulder, but you feel different now. Even though none of your memories have returned, you do feel like you have known him all your life.

Out of habit, he opens his arms to engulf you in one last hug. He quickly stops his motion when he realizes what he does, but you just step forward, slinging your arms around his waist to give him a hug. Neither of you fully expected it, but it isn't like you were complaining. Once you let go, you smile at him, whispering a goodbye before hurrying away.

Your cheeks are burning up as you quickly slip into your dorm, locking the door behind you as you drop your bag next to you.

bianca ★

you there? did he kill you or something? text me when you're back

i'm not kidding y/n, i thought you would be back already

okay just kidding, have fun <3

Y/N ♡

SORRYY!!! i only just got back to my dorm, had to try and not run into thornhill :/

bianca ★

oh my god...

how did it go?

It is Monday morning. Your alarm went off as you let out a groan, hitting the device with your eyes closed. You had fallen asleep way too late yesterday, too busy texting Bianca and Xavier. Today would start with one class before everyone would gather in the Quad to greet their parents.

You and Xavier had other plans. Plans that you had discussed up until two in the morning. Visiting Week was until Thursday morning, which meant that there was more than enough time to hang out. You had double-checked the texts with your parents just to make sure that they weren't going to be stopping by.

One Botany class and then you would go to Jericho to spend some time there before eating in the Quad and hanging out anywhere. Of course, you would also go and greet Ajax's moms. You had not seen them since last year, but you remember them being very sweet.

Your bag feels heavy on your shoulders as you enter the class, greeting Thornhill before sitting down in your usual spot. At least, your usual seat before the Song. You knew that Xavier liked to sit in the same place each class, so after talking to Bianca, you said that you would try and sit with him.

The boy comes in looking just as tired as you are, but his face immediately lights up when he sees you sitting next to his usual seat. Xavier quickly walks over, dropping his bag down before taking a seat on the chair.

"I am dead tired," he whispers, pulling notebooks and pens out of his bag.

"Me too," you huff. "Shouldn't have stayed up that late."

He lets out a chuckle before closing his bag up again, leaning on the table with his elbows. He is quite excited for this week - something he hadn't felt in a while. It was just still a bit strange to see you talk to him again after weeks, it is even stranger because he knows you agreed to keep him company.

Everyone in the class was a bit out of it today. Some were excited to see their parents while others were completely dreading it. Thornhill didn't assign any homework - thank God. You would have the time to do it, but you appreciated having a bit more free time. Thornhill seemed to understand her students quite well, which was strange as she was the only Normie teacher.

Once class ends, you see a dozen cars already parked at the gates of Nevermore. Groups of people enter the school grounds, some more excited than others.

"Okay guys," Thornhill says with a smile, her hands clasped together. "Time for class to end and for everyone to head to the Quad!"

You and Xavier decided to skip to the balcony, watching the entire ceremony from there before heading down. It was going to be too busy and awkward as you didn't really have anyone to stand by.

"Nevermore was created as a safe haven for our children," Principal Weems smiles, standing behind the microphone. "To learn and grow. No matter who, or what, they are."

Claps fill the Quad in response to the speech. You feel like she always repeats the same one with the same exact words.

"I realize most of you have heard about the unfortunate incident involving our students. But," she hesitates for a second before smiling yet again. "I am happy to report that Eugene is on the mend and is expected to make a full recovery!"

"What?" You whisper, looking at Xavier. "What happened to Eugene?"

You hadn't heard of that yet. Not that you were befriended with him, but to hear that the poor boy had gotten stuck in an accident did make you sad.

"I don't know," Xavier sighs. "Wouldn't be surprised if that monster had anything to do with it."

"Monster?"

Xavier looks around for a second to make sure that no one is around to hear him.

"Well, Wednesday believes that Rowan got killed by it. And now Eugene has been attacked. It seems to attack people with gifts, though it also has gotten a hold of some Normies."

"Is it going to get us?"

The thought makes you nervous. A monster, capable of killing, going after Nevermore students and people with powers. Xavier shakes his head, smiling down at you as he leans against the balcony.

"Of course not," he lets out a laugh. "Even if, I'll be right by your side."

The crowd splits up as everyone sits down with their families, a sign for you and Xavier to hop by Ajax quickly and then leave for Jericho. The Weathervane would be packed later, so it's better to get an early start.

"Xavier, Y/N!" You get stuck in a tight embrace. "Oh, it's wonderful to see you!"

You greet the moms as well, smiling while making small talk with them.

"Oh, you two are just the cutest couple," Ajax's mom gushes, her hand on your shoulder as you only look at her, slightly confused.

"Mom," Ajax groans, an embarrassed look on his face. His mom lets out a laugh, shaking her head before sitting down at the picnic table.

"Okay, okay! Tell me about Enid."

The two of you decide that this is the perfect moment to slip away. It is quite interesting to see the different parents. With Wednesday, you could perfectly imagine how she and her parents fit together – their fully black clothes stood out against the rest of the parents. Enid and her family? Less of a match.

“Hey, I might have a faster way to Jericho.”

Hidden at the side of the Nevermore walls stands a blue bike, one that is faintly familiar to you. Xavier pushes the key inside the lock, opening it before bringing it your way.

“Want to sit on the back?”

It is, indeed, much faster than the long walk you usually take. The shuttle bus was only a short eight minute drive, but the walk tends to be at least twenty-five minutes. Xavier slowly stops the bike, allowing you to jump off before locking it. It stands right next to the wall with white paint splotched on it. It might have been a mural, but now it is covered up.

You and Xavier were still dressed in your school uniforms, not having thought of changing out of them for Jericho. You wouldn’t be here that long anyway. Just a quick drink before heading right back.

The bell rings again, a sound that is so familiar to pretty much everyone. Behind the register stands Tyler again. It is like he always works. The booths are pretty empty for this time of the day, only officer Galpin taking up one table. The man is calling, drinking coffee, and writing down notes all at the same time. You wonder if he knows anything about that so-called monster. Even if, you doubted that he would care for anyone that isn’t a normie.

“Y/N, hey!” Tyler smiles. “Xavier.”

Xavier curtly nods back, not really in the mood for any small talk.

“Hey Tyler,” you turn to Xavier. “What would you like?”

“A cappuccino.”

The same thing as last time. You smile before turning back to Tyler, but he already put in your order.

“And a hot chocolate, whipped cream, caramel?”

“I’m surprised you remember,” you raise an eyebrow, but the boy only lets out a laugh.

“I remember some. Only special ones, though.”

Xavier rips his wallet open, placing the money on the counter before giving Tyler one last glare. He really, really, can’t stand the guy. Especially with whatever trick he is playing right now. Not one bone in Xavier’s body trusts him.

“That will be right up,” Tyler only says, a smile on his face as you quickly thank him.

You sit down in the same booth as Xavier, watching him as he looks down at his hands. No matter what Tyler does, it annoys him. Especially if it surrounds you. Sure, Xavier shouldn’t say anything – he isn’t your boyfriend. It feels silly to him to be jealous or upset by someone showing interest in you, yet he still feels all those emotions.

“So, where are you thinking tonight? The library, my dorm, your dorm,” you list off different locations on your fingers. “Art shed, Nightshade library…”

“Hm,” Xavier hums, leaning against the back of the seat. “I think it might rain tonight. Art shed doesn’t sound too good, then.”

You look out of the window, seeing the first Nevermore visitors stop by in Jericho. Wednesday, her parents and her little brother get out of a black car, stopping right in front of Kinbott’s office.

“Here you go, one cappuccino,” Tyler places your drinks down. “One hot chocolate with all your favourites, and a chocolate chip cookie.”

Why does he keep bringing you all these treats? Xavier doesn’t even look up to Tyler.

“Thank you, Tyler!”

“My pleasure,” with a smile he leaves, refilling the cup of coffee on his dads table.

Officer Galpin doesn’t stay for long, though. Another phone call makes him pack up his stuff, mumbling something to Tyler before he walks off. In the meanwhile, the Addams family had entered Kinbott’s office. Hm, a group therapy session, maybe?

You sit with Xavier as you sip your drink, talking about all different things. It is nice to just talk to him. Slowly you are starting to get to know him again. Something you had really missed before. When you talked to Bianca about trying to befriend him again, you had not expected for it to be so easy. You can easily imagine how you befriended him the first time. With so many things in common, it would have been crazy for the two of you to not be friends.

Xavier felt the same way. He is not only happy to have you back, but he is even happier that you wanted to give him a second chance. A chance that he took with both his hands, promising himself that he would do anything for you. And, in his eyes, it was going pretty damn good. It almost felt like how it used to be.

“Want to get out of here?”

Multiple cars were now lined up on the parking lot as more and more Weathervane seats get filled up with people. Xavier quickly nods, grabbing his bike keys before you both walk outside. You walk pretty close to him, your hands even sometimes touching each other, yet you do not dare to take it. Did you hold hands before?

It seemed like everyone at Nevermore decided to go to the Weathervane. Only small groups stayed behind in the Quad, Thornhill and Weems sitting at one table discussing some topics that you didn’t really care for. To enter the Nightshade library now was risky – there were too many people around. So, you and Xavier opt for sitting in the Quad, waiting for the dinner to come in while keeping yourself busy with random things.

Doors keep opening and closing in the next two hours as more families return from the café, hungry and ready to eat. Ajax and his moms decide to sit with you, just like the last years. Even before your parents stopped coming by, Xavier always sat with them. Not only because Ajax is his best friend, but also because his moms insisted. How could you say no?

Tables get filled with food as everyone is free to grab whatever they desire. Your plate is filled with salads, pasta, chicken, and some other goodies you had found.

“This is so good,” you mumble, taking another bite of the pasta.

Not all the food at Nevermore was this good, so you appreciated it while you could. Xavier looks over at you as he sips his own drink.

“What is it?”

With your mouth full you prick at the pasta, holding the fork out in front of him to offer him a bite. The corners of his mouth lift up slightly as he takes a bite, agreeing with your opinion. It is weirdly good.

In the middle of the dinner, the big wooden doors get pulled open aggressively. Officer Galpin struts in, three other police men behind him. What is he doing here? The police never visited Nevermore uninvited, much less in a way like this.

Even principal Weems seems surprised.

“Can I ask what this is about, Sheriff?”

Though she has a smile on her face and a happy tone in her voice, you can hear her confusion and slight anger. If principal Weems doesn’t know what is going on, then who does? The officer doesn’t care as he ignores the lady, instead beelining for a specific table in the back of the Quad.

“Gomez Addams,” he speaks up, not stopping until he stands next to the man.

Wednesday’s dad? Everyone in the Quad looks at the two figures, not daring to utter a word. Gomez turns around to face Galpin, not showing any nervousness on his face.

“How can I help you, Sheriff?”

“You are under arrest for the murder of Garret Gates.”

The man pulls out handcuffs as gasps can be heard from different tables. A murder? You knew that death, pain, and torture were popular with the family, but you had not expected anyone to have actually murdered someone.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“Dad?”

“You have the right to an attorney,” Galpin pushes Gomez forwards, holding on to the handcuffs tightly. “If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you.”

Everyone’s eyes are focused on the two figures as they exit the Quad, no one daring to speak up. What is there to say? It is not everyday that someone gets arrested right in front of you. When you look over at the rest of the family, you see one singular tear slide down Morticia’s cheek as Wednesday just looks slightly astonished. The three leave not long after that as the rest of the Quad slowly comes to life again.

“That was weird,” Xavier mumbles before stacking up the plates.

“I hope they’ll be alright.”

In the evening, you decided to stay in Xavier’s dorm. Coach Vlad is a very heavy sleeper, so the chance of him hearing you sneak through the hallways is quite small. In your bag is a book, some snacks, and also your laptop. On the schedule is a movie night, something Xavier says you would do at least once a week before.

He had picked you up from your dorm, taking your bag on his shoulders as he insists that he needed to carry it. After successfully making it past Coach his room, you enter Xavier’s dorm.

“Still no new roommate,” he presses his lips together. “We can push that bed closer to here. I have extra blankets.”

Before the Song, you would have just joined him on his bed. But, Xavier thought that you might be more comfortable having your own little spot. You nod as the bed just slides over next to Xavier’s, not quite touching, but very close. Only a few centimetres of space between the two What a good day to have telekinesis. Xavier pulls blankets and pillows out of his closet, throwing them on the bed before letting himself fall on his own.

“Okay, so I did bring different snacks. And some stuff from Ajax.”

The bedside table is soon filled with cups, snacks, weed, phone chargers, and a laptop. Xavier put on some random movie that showed up first as neither of you knew what to watch. Not that the movie got any attention from the two of you. You were too busy talking yet again.

Hours pass by as movies begin and end – the moment when the more serious conversations take place. Especially after smoking some of Ajax his stuff. Both of you had laid down on your beds, facing each other with only a small distance between the two of you. The only light in the room came from the laptop, which was still playing a movie.

“I just…” You let out a deep sigh. “I wish I remembered.”

You had come back on the topic of the Song.

“I feel like I am just missing a whole part of my life. It just…”

Xavier looks at you as you try to find the words to explain yourself. After talking for so long, both of you had gotten quite tired, so conversations were a bit harder to keep up.

“You feel like a dream.”

“Is that good or bad?” He lets out a chuckle.

The sentence itself doesn't sound negative. In fact, to him, it sounds quite sweet.

"Both?" You let out an airy laugh. "Whenever I look at you, it's like I have only seen you in my dreams. I remember things, but it feels like a picture where you are blurry. It just sucks. I feel like I am missing out on so many good memories I had just because of one thing."

"Don't blame yourself," Xavier whispers. "We can make more memories. New ones."

"Yeah," you reply, your voice also quiet in order to not wake anyone else up. "Yeah, I would like that."

It is quiet for a second as your eyes start feeling heavy. Being high, laying down in a warm bed, and being tired aren't the best things to have when you try to stay awake.

"Xavier?"

A hum can be heard from in front of you, the laptop light just a bit too dim to light up his entire face. His eyes are catching some of the light as they seem to glow in the dark.

"You're a good dream. A pretty one."

His heart now truly skips a step as you compliment him. It sounds so sincere, especially as you are tired. The weed is also making your speech pattern a bit different, much slower.

"You are too."

You scooch a bit closer to him, still making sure you are on your own bed before laying back down. When your head hits the pillow, you let out a soft sigh, your eyes still focused on Xavier.

"You know," you yawn. "I'm not surprised we were friends before."

Xavier smiles, his arm holding up his head as he looks down at you. Your eyes were practically closed already, yet you still tried to keep the conversation going. His hand slowly finds its way to your cheek, resting on it softly as his thumb moves back and forth on your cheekbone, your eyes now fully closed.

What you said felt real. It didn't seem like a lie or part of the song. It felt like you.

The sun is bright as it shines right into your face, making you wake up. With a soft groan, you sit up, rubbing your eyes and stretching your arms. For just a second you were confused. This isn't your dorm.

But then you see the countless sketches stuck on the walls, paint tubes and pencils on the desk, and, of course, a sleeping Xavier right next to you. You softly tap his shoulder as you whisper his name. The small clock on the wall says it's eleven already, so only one hour to join the picnic.

"Hm," Xavier groans, pushing his face back into his pillow. "Just a bit more. Please."

"Xavier," you plead, tapping his shoulder again. "Please? It's time for the picnics! And I need to sneak out still."

He opens one eye before pulling your hand to him, your arm now stuck in his grip as he just goes back to sleep. A laugh escapes your lips as you are now half on his bed and half on yours.

"Come on, Xav," you slowly try to pull your arm back. "Afterwards we can go to the art shed or something. I promise."

It had taken you fifteen minutes to get him to wake up. By now you have made ten different promises to get him out of bed, though he had forgotten all of them already. Coach Vlad gave you a strange look as you walked through the hall with Xavier, but didn't ask any questions. As long as he didn't wake up in the middle of the night because of noise complaints, then he didn't care.

"Jesus, what happened here?"

You look over to Xavier before following his gaze. The small patch of grass next to the Archery field is half burned, some shapes and letters darkening the grass that was on fire only a few hours ago. How had you not noticed that there was a fire?

Before anything else could be said, Enid runs up to you, slightly out of breath.

"Y/N! Xavier! I am planning something for Wednesday's birthday today," she gasps for air as she leans on you. "Crackstone's crypt, tonight. I have a cake!"

She walks off as fast as she arrived, skipping away to do God-knows-what. A birthday party for Wednesday?

"I didn't take her as a birthday person."

"She isn't," Xavier laughs. "Which makes it even funnier."

The Quad is filled with different picnic baskets, all customized with different names and foods in them. It meant that you and Xavier had more than enough to share - neither of your parents was here to eat it anyway. With the baskets in your hand, you follow the rest of the families, sitting down in the big open field close to the woods.

After not eating breakfast, this picnic was exactly what you needed. Xavier had laid down the two blankets, connecting them to each other as you placed plates and cups down.

While eating the different snacks and meals, you just observed. You always thought it was interesting to watch different people, especially ones you weren't familiar with. So that is what you did. Some of the parents were ones that you had seen the previous year, but with all the new students, it was fun to guess who was who.

After two hours it is time to clean everything up, placing the empty containers and blankets back into the baskets before discarding them in the Quad. The weather outside was actually quite nice. Flowers were blooming again and birds were chirping. One flower had made its way into your hair after Xavier had found it. It fit you perfectly, he said.

"Ssssh! They're coming," Kent hides behind the crypt as Thing quickly scurries back. "Turn off the lights!"

With the cake in his hands, he crouches down. The rest of the group follows, trying to hide in the shadows to hopefully surprise the deadpanned girl. Even though Kent had told everyone to stay quiet, he couldn't help but sneeze. There goes the surprise.

"Whoever you are," Wednesday grits her teeth. "Show yourself. Try anything and you'll lose limbs."

You didn't doubt that. Maybe it's better that you didn't surprise her - you don't want a knife to your neck. With her aim, you were sure that she never missed.

"Surprise!" You all exclaim, jumping out from your hiding spot.

"Happy birthday to you," Wednesdays face morphs into one filled with disgust. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Wednesday!"

The small candles on the cake get lit as you all keep singing.

"Happy birthday to you!"

"I should have known you were behind this," she grits her teeth as she turns to Thing. "What part of 'no party under the penalty of death' do you not understand?"

"Come, Wednesday!" Enid grins, walking up to the girl with the cake in her hands. "Why don't you make a wish?"

Wednesday is too occupied to focus on the cake as she spots some weird text on the wall. It's latin, no one really understands that, right? She crouches down, her fingers running over the engraved letters.

"Fire will rain," she mumbles. "When I rise."

Maybe one person understands that.

"That's not really a wish," the werewolf grimaces, the candles slowly melting away.

"The first part of that was burned onto Nevermore's lawn," she stands back up. "It can't be a coincidence."

Ajax slowly leans in towards you and Xavier, looking at the cake.

"We're never eating that cake, are we?"

No one has time to react as Wednesday's head suddenly falls backward, the girl collapsing onto the ground.

"Wednesday!"

Enid pushes the cake towards Kent before running up to the girl. Was she having a seizure? You look at her worriedly as Xavier puts a hand on your shoulder. It had only taken a few seconds before Wednesday opened her eyes again, standing up without a word before storming out of the crypt.

It leaves all of you a bit speechless - really not a birthday girl.

"I will check on her," Enid nods, gesturing to the exit. "Ajax, you can eat that cake. Save me a piece."

"You had another vision, didn't you?"

Xavier stops next to Wednesday, looking out onto the lawn with the burnt grass. You had gone up to your dorm, changing out of your uniform and back into your normal clothes.

"I didn't realize we were back on speaking terms."

"Well," he shrugs. "I showed up to your surprise party. Figured that would have been a hint. I'm still a friend, Wednesday. So, what did you see?"

Not one glance is thrown at Xavier.

"Who said I was ready to speak with you?"

A sigh escapes his lips. For a while now she had expected him to be someone he isn't. He kept it a secret from everyone. Wednesday usually has some strange theories, ones that aren't supported by a whole lot.

"You still think I am the monster?"

"Haven't ruled it out."

Her answers are quick and sharp.

"Well," he swallows thickly. "Let me know if you finally change your mind."

A lot had changed in one day.

You didn't know what happened, but some of your friends were suddenly acting strange. Bianca felt out of it, Enid and Wednesday didn't talk anymore, and Xavier also seemed a bit uneasy. You thought he wanted some time alone but were proven wrong as he invited you out to the Nightshade library.

The rumbling of stones and footsteps alert you. Did Weems find out that you were here in the middle of the night? Instead, Wednesday comes downstairs, asking for Uncle Fester?

"Who's uncle Fester?"

She quickly turns around, being faced by you and Xavier. You were sitting on the ground with a book in front of you and your phone next to you. Wednesday looks from you to Xavier as she takes a deep breath.

"What are you two doing here?"

Xavier has an annoyed look on his face. He really can't be bothered with her strange antics today.

"Since Y/N and I are actual Nightshades, we don't have to explain ourselves. So, what is your excuse for creeping around in the middle of the night?"

You close your book up, curiously watching the girl in front of you.

"Research."

"Come on, Wednesday," Xavier groans. "You can't still be trying to look for answers. Nothing in this library matches that... thing. You can't go blaming everyone around you for things they didn't do."

"You want to hear what I think?" Wednesday grits her teeth. "I think that it is just convenient that you seem to show up at the right place, the right time. You might think you fool me by hanging out with Y/N-"

"Not one word."

You slowly stand up, unsure of what to do. Do you just leave? Do you break up their fight?

"You do not get to bring her into your stupid theories, Wednesday. I am serious. Keep. Her. Out."

"Okaaay," you awkwardly laugh, "I think it is time for us to go. Good luck with your research, Wednesday."

You place your hand on Xavier's bicep, guiding him to the stairs as you leave the pig-tailed girl down in the library. She isn't even supposed to be in there, but there is no stopping her. Simply a fight you cannot win.

Another day of useless classes passes. You hung out with Ajax and Xavier before Ajax decided to go out for a smoke. Weed is strictly prohibited on Nevermore grounds, but luckily he could use the place next to the art shed.

"I totally forgot about all my homework," you let your head fall into your hands. "Maybe Thornhill didn't give me any, but I am still behind!"

"Want me to make homework with you today?"

"Want to? Yes. Is it smart? Not so much." you let out a small laugh. "I really need to finish all of it. What about hanging out tomorrow? Weathervane?"

"Sounds good," the boy smiles. "I will be in my art shed if you're looking for me."

It had been way past dinner time already, so he didn't need to go back to Nevermore except to go back to sleep. The two of you say your goodbyes, both heading a different way.

The sky is already getting darker as Xavier approaches the art shed. As he takes off his jacket, the lights suddenly turn on. He looks around confused, his eyes falling on Wednesday who stands in the corner of the shed.

Xavier scoffs, walking up to his desk.

"You know what? You," he points at her. "Need to stay out of my space."

"And you need to take your own advice."

She stabs the dagger that she was holding into the desk, breaking up the piece of wood. Xavier his eyes go from the knife to the girl. What was she doing with that? He is speechless - does she think that that knife is his?

"Actually, you left it in Thing," she pauses for a second. "How long have you been seeing Kinbott?"

"Have you..."

He frowns as he looks at her with disbelief. He had called Kinbott not that long ago, wanting to schedule a new appointment. Ajax gave him the advice to open up a bit more, talking about his problems and making sure that he feels comfortable enough to admit his feelings. He didn't want a Siren Song redo. But, how did Wednesday know?

"What am I saying? Of course you have," he laughs sarcastically. "You have been spying on me."

He takes the dagger out of the wooden table in a swift motion, his finger trying to smooth out the broken wood.

"Because I am some sort of villain in your fantasy."

The dagger is one he has never seen before. Why would he even own one? Much less to stab Thing with it.

"My father thinks that my mental health is like a PR problem that needs to be managed," he tells Wednesday. "Wanted to keep his troubled son out of his tabloids."

He takes a step back, raising his hands in defense before they fall to his side.

"I wasn't in your room. Believe me, or don't. I don't care."

The girl walks straight past him, stopping in front of the covered-up canvas. She takes a look at it before turning to Xavier.

"Your painting has been improving. I enjoy this one in particular."

She takes hold of the fabric, pulling it down roughly to expose the painting. It is of one of Xavier his visions, one that included Kinbott with countless wounds on her face. It had been plaguing him for the last night.

"It feels like you have really lived through it."

"Wednesday, what do you want?"

He is tired. He wants to go back to painting, to go back to sketching. He doesn't want to spend his time arguing with someone who, essentially, is like a brick wall.

"I'm the one asking questions."

She turns to the desk, moving a sketchbook before holding up a random object.

"What is Rowan's inhaler doing in your shed? Or Eugene's glasses?"

"Woah, woah! What?"

"Or these stalker images you took of me?"

Wednesday throws a stack of photo's on the table, all with her in them.

"No. I-"

"Oh, and don't forget your latest addition."

The jar with pencils gets thrown onto the table as she fishes a thin chain out of the pile.

"Kinbott's necklace."

Red and blue lights flash through the window as Xavier tries to talk to Wednesday.

"Somebody planted that stuff!" He stutters as he points to the items/

Wednesday is still holding onto the chain, dangling it in the air when the door behind her flies over. It reveals Sheriff Galpin with a gun in his hand, pointed straight at Xavier.

"Freeze!" He shouts. "Drop the knife. Down on your knees."

He immediately does as he is told. No matter how much he wants to prove Wednesday wrong - he is the one with the knife in his hand. The one who, magically, has all the items of the monster's victims in his shed. Slowly he kneels down, his hands above his head as Galpin tells the other officers to handcuff him.

"You have the right to remain silent."

"What?"

Thoughts are rushing through his head as his hands are taken by another officer, cold handcuffs now around his wrists.

"Anything you say can and will be used against you in court."

His eyes fly to Wednesday. While he looks stressed, confused, and utterly betrayed, she only has a blank look on her face. If anything, it shows the smallest smirk.

"You have the right to an attorney," the gun still pointed at him. "If you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed."

The sheriff looks at the short girl on his side, never lowering the gun.

"Appreciate the help, Addams."

"You!" Xavier grits his teeth as he gets pulled up by the officer. "You framed me! I'm being set up!"

With a push in his back, he stumbles forward, still looking at Wednesday with a furious look.

"I saved you from Rowan!"

The girl says nothing. But the boy has more than enough to say.

Y/N ♡

hey xav! :) what time tomorrow at the weathervane? one?

---------------

taglist

@pagesfalling @skrlls-devonte @clingytraitscclist @annamarieisbae @babyminghao @rayliz7931 @morningstar09 @flowersownme @sunnytkm23 @sweeterheartxamerica @geekgirleve @lorayma9 @eringaitskill @itscheybaby @sophiathereader @r3fundmyb1rth @sweaterxav @stxrangerdxnger @wrenwastooshort @negativity4you @poppet05 @bambi-munson @diorheaven @mirikusashes @yksthings @kis9na @br66klynbaby @ietss @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @secretdazeobservation @lunacurlclaw @dredres @joselyn001 @sojo154 @parkersmyth @hannahnikohl @peanutbutter-y-jams

@ietss @flowersownme @zestygingergirl @katdog111 @urgirl-iris @buckleylips @maylaysia109 @alexdiedin1999 @i-am-no-one-0 @givemereylo @geekgirleve @no-soy-fer @phoenixgurl030 @hannahnikohl @molllybc @omegaworld @nushy @blahbel668 @temptressofthetarrot @heartsfordeftones @aeplern @katkoosik @percyhyneswhitesgf @luna670 @mypsychoticlove @clingytraitscclist @mk-the-great @mayranakata @grass-sunflower @inky-sun @nikt-wazny-y @alexayoonlee @ghswlz @slngarza @fandomstoryreader25r25 @theworldofkami @itspalaly @blakebearsblog

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday imagine #wednesday oneshot

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spaceorphan18 · 1 month

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I agree with you about Finchel; they make more sense as a high school romance, that was really the time when they could have helped (and did help) each other to grow. After high school though, they don't really work as a couple. What they want from life, how they want to live their lives, isn't compatible. That might be controversial to say but in my opinion even RM's reported original plan for how the series was going to end supports that; they would be really back together (and last) only after Rachel had achieved most of her career-related dreams and Finn had gotten over his insecurities. I understand why lots of people like the "opposites attract" type of relationship, but most of the time that doesn't work too well long-term. But all of that said, I don't dislike them. I like early Finchel, and I don't mind them in season 2-3. I just think their relationship was more suited to be a high school romance, like you said, and I like them better as "exes who are always going to be thankful for the relationship they had because it was beautiful and meaningful while it lasted but they understand why they had to go their own ways".

And I think you have written a very quick interaction between Jesse and Blaine in the The Sims fic.... Or maybe it was in another story, I don't remember it now. I would check but AO3 is currently down! But that's why I had mentioned it.

Nonny. First of all. I went back and read The Addiction - and it still cracks me up. And it makes me want to play the Sims again.... It doesn't really have Jesse/Blaine interaction, though. I'll have to make sure a future fic has some of that fun dynamic!

Anyway... I really agree with what you've said about Finchel!

Yeah, I actually have a lot of thoughts about Finchel! And, it's kind of complex, as it's not coming from a place of like or dislike, just evaluation.

I think Finn and Rachel were actually very sweet in Season 1 and really didn't mind them in Season 2. I think they both did get something positive out of the relationship. Rachel got validation that she was worth loving from someone outside her sphere, while Finn gained knowledge that he could be more than the labels that were bestowed onto him. They did help each other grow -- and grow up into the people they'd one day become.

That's the thing about relationships that I think sometimes is missed in media. And this goes to friendships and other kinds of relationships beyond romantic ones -- that people come into our lives and sometimes those people only stay for a short time, but their impact can effect us for the rest of our lives. And even if it is a short time, it doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful or worth going through.

By Season 3, I think it's apparent that Finn and Rachel's story kind of ran its course. (Even if the writers/RM did plan to bring them back together one day...) Rachel was always meant to go out and live in a big city and be on Broadway. And she needed to have someone who could not only keep up with her, but not feel threated by her level of success. Her star was going to always shine bright, and I just don't feel like Finn was ever fully going to feel comfortable living in the shadow of that.

Meanwhile, Finn's story is one that (like Will - whom he's modeled after) it's okay to come home and stay tome. I actually really liked the idea that Finn would have flourished in a small town, and realizing that it has worth and that he can do good things. Something Glee struggled with -- was the idea that you can be more than just a huge Broadway star. You can teach in a small town and have it be fulfilling and meaningful. Rachel would have never been happy on such a smaller stage. But it would have suited Finn wonderfully.

So - at the end of the day (Jesse aside) I just think their stories were going in two different directions. But the impact they had on each other was always meaningful. And I actually like that aspect of Finchel.

#that's how s.o. sees it #finchel

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not-so-mundane-after-all · 2 years

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garchel implications aside ( i am sobbing, i am screaming, i am scared ), what are your thoughts on season 4 from what we've seen / know so far???

it looks like we're getting gar, rachel, & dickkory stories ( which. thank GOD ) so what do you think / want to happen?

also the mother mayhem clip kinda reminded me of your purifaction series ngl

I didn't get to fangirl and analyze right after because it was late and I had to get up early for work but you're giving me a perfect opportunity to gather all my thoughts together in one place, thank you.

I am choosing to IGNORE any implications of this shot whatsoever until we get a concrete confirmation (and we better not). I hate the dread this one damn picture caused all over the fandom and overshadowed the hype BUT I'm choosing to remain reasonable and not assume the worst. This picks up literally right after S3 so Rachel has been back for what, 2 days? She's allowed to catch up and cuddle with all her family members, something tells me she will be glued to Dick and Kory as much as she is to Gar here. It doesn't need to mean absolutely anything deeper than that.

And if it does, if they are really going to screw us over like that... Well, we have to prepare. Because I am NOT abandoning my babies, I will keep watching the show even if they are going to shove this thing down my throat. I love this family too much to leave it.

UPDATE:

Teagan confirmed this is platonic. We're safe.

Some things we found out before the panel actually made me really excited. First Brenton confirmed some season 1 villains are coming back + at the panel Greg added to this that death isn't an issue in this case, so I'm hoping for Adamson or Angela and The Nuclear Family.

Then Joseph Morgan said this

And it's REALLY INTERESTING how he only mentions Dick and Rachel specifically. This is giving me hope for some good moments with my father-daughter duo! My mind was overflowing with theories throughout the weekend and if it goes how I'm thinking it might go, it's going to be absolutely GLORIOUS.

(I wish they didn't waste half the panel on talking about Lex and actually discussed Brother Blood instead but it is what it is)

Everything Ryan said about Gar's trauma coming back and how it's a good thing for the character makes me so happy. It's about time this is addressed. It's Ryan's and Gar's time to shine!!!! Also THE SUIT. I am in love with that suit!!!!!

And DICKKORY! Brenton, our King, our Captain, finally pulled through. I love watching that clip, he's blushing like crazy hahahaha. "You're on HBO MAX now" "We're allowed to do some things, yeah" I love that man. It's going to be hot as hell in there!!!!

Now, that fight with Mother Mayhem. She kicks their asses, leaves them licking their wounds - they said that, we've seen that. And as badass as it is to see the team finally together like this, the whole thing seemed pretty... stupid.

Because are they seriously taking turns going at her while there rest just stands and watch? Dick really thought it's a good idea to charge at the woman only with his escrima sticks after two (TWO!) of the most powerful team members got knocked out in seconds? Are they all really that stunned by the fact a magic wielder is attacking them?

So these are my thoughts on what we've seen and learned. I will be watching the panel again after work and maybe come to some other conclusions.

As for what I want to happen?

I hope they won't waste too much time on Lex. We don't need another Crane situation.

I want a lot more family moments, that tight knit vibe. What we got is a pretty good start.

Obviously the most important thing to me here is my father-daughter duo, so I'm gonna say this: I'm expecting some protectiveness right away because for god's sake Rachel passed out after that attack - I better see a concerned father in action.

Also this makes me wonder if this the reason for the whole white hair/no gemstone thing:

Mother Mayhem sucked in everything Rachel gave her in that clip, drained her basically. Will this be the after effect? Ever since I saw those pics I thought something big and painful is going to happen and it will be sudden, but maybe the change is gradual? Her her starts fading, gem either falls out or melts into the skin - and they rush back to Star Labs to get help. We'll see.

Then there's Joseph Morgan saying his "sweet and innocent" Sebastian is on first name basis with Dick and Rachel specifically which makes me think - Dick is going to trust that man with Rachel's wellbeing and he will DEEPLY regret it later.

#sorry it took so long I was typing it out during breaks at work #dc titans #titans season 4 #titans #dcu titans #titans hbo max #titans hbo #dick grayson #rachel roth #kory anders #garfield logan #conner kent #tim drake #nightwing #starfire #raven #beast boy #superboy

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 2 years

Text

Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)

Chapter Seventeen

Warnings: we maybe cringe but we are free and yours, Steven! - Reader

A/N: totally love the headcanon of Steven naming a cat "Cleo". I had a cat named "Cleopatra" so very soft on tht

Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Eighteen

"My boyfriend Steven Grant, a man with a mind of several degrees. You would make a hot professor."

"You aren't gettin' out of this."

"A classic brown suit and tie. Oh, I'll wear a short plaid skirt," You make a swoosh sound effect, "Oh, Prof. Grant, I need extra credit." Winking.

"Not listening nope it is your turn!"

"But professor!" Laughing as you try to contain yourself while on his lap. "I need a refresher on Osiris, uwu."

"God, did you just 'uwu'!?"

"UwU, nyah, nyah."

"Go do that as you give Cleopatra a bath!"

This is hundred percent how you imagine parenting would be like with Steven. Fun: you bribing him to change a diaper, you cooking because Steven's seasoning tastes are something to be desired; very domestic.

You pout playful as you drag (yes literally dragged) yourself off your cute boyfriend to fetch the cat currently resting on the floor outside your father's room.

"Good luck!" Calling out before hearing you coaxing your cat.

Steven helped named her, Marc calls her 'cat', and Jake plays with her or she sleeps on him. Bastet says he is a keeper (meaning all of them but she does no't know about the DID). They all provide so much for you though you know Marc wishes he could do more, likely from talking with Jake, yet keeps his distance respecting boundaries.

You wish he would come out, you aren't sure how to ask or if you are allowed to do that.

After bathing the cat, a grumpy girl rightfully, and feeding her treats and brushes; you start cooking while Steven is going over your history paper for Western Civilization class. "This one needs rewording."

"Thank you, professor!" You made the basic and messy finger food: tacos. You totally forgot to do food shopping. "Anyway, ignore that! I got you a gift!"

"For me?"

"Yup," You pull out a small box, "Listen, if you don't like it you can return it for a store credit."

Steven gives you a look making you shut up and hand over the box.

"A blue sarcophagus… A pencil case! Thanks." Of course he would be happy with that! "Oh, aw you got my name written in hieroglyphs. Look at you putting my books to you, clever girl." He is happy then he opens it. "OH!"

"Heh."

"A watch, wait this.." Checking out the wristband next to his phone, "This is…"

"It took some saving up and calling around but, you seem like the type to enjoy a wristwatch."

This is not a Christmas gift. You went Christmas shopping to shut your aunt up and to jump on sales, personally you do not celebrate it and being respectful of Marc's Jewish background; this is a gift celebrating how long you both have been together. To think your spring semester abroad was gonna land you an amazing boyfriend with two other men you hold dear, you enjoy the good parts.

"Listen, New Years is coming and…"

"Bullocks, I forgot about the party! Listen the museum is having an event and I'm stuck—"

"That's great!" You shout then facepalm yourself, "I mean we both are busy. My friend asked me to go out with them that evening." Groaning, "Art stuff and networking.

"There, there, the day after we can celebrate on our own, yeah? Marc has a pretty good liquor collection."

Steven feels guilty about lying.

"Ooo, get lit like a couple of teenagers, ay?" Winking at him, "Or we could…" Sitting on his lap wiggling your eyebrows, "Get started on that early semester extra credit, uwu."

"You had me until you said that last part."

You love being silly with him.

The holiday week is packed with Steven and Marc being in your company without fail. Marc, is one who takes you to places to see pretty much anything. Maybe he likes your actions to new things or how you try to steal warmth from his hands when you forget your gloves. With him, it is like dating all over, only he has experience and physical needs. Where Steven and yourself relationship started from mental needs, stimulating each other by debating and showing each other interests. Marc, you guess, has been around the block a few times he already knows what he wants and likes. You do not mind! He assured he can take it slow as you need, but you are eager. Jakes likes that about you too, how eager to learn and please you can get.

Marc twice has felt your hands and kisses on his skin, heard those positive affirmations you like slip in when you touch him. You are like a mini ball of sunshine. He is frightened that you will escape him one day… Or one day Steven decides he does not want to share you anymore.

Steven has it easy for he is the first one you met. Lots of shared interests, things you do not not have in common but willing to share with each other, this newest to relationships. So comfortable with each other, neither of you have to constantly go out like Marc does. While he is learning, Steven is exploring.

Steven enjoys being home with you talking away day, watching movies, occasionally making out, or being silly. The domestic life is easy for Steven but a struggle for Marc who has walls on top of walls.

He should not be jealous. It makes no sense to be jealous when you want to know him, he just hates how you look at him differently than his alter.

Trying to be equally as exciting as he seems to be, to be confident and smooth as him. Maybe it is the age difference or the way you both were raised differently or different events in your lives versus him… Marc wishes honestly he knew how to be relaxed like Steven.

Steven.

He really should not be jealous of him but that is the thing about emotions: they often do not make sense and causes us to do stupid things.

Like kissing someone under the moonlight after rescuing them.

Marc might have fucked up there.

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celestiasophie · 2 years

Text

Happy birthday, @jennis-one-shot ♡ (yeah it's already midnight here) May the stars above always protect you so you'll have the most beloved birthday this year. It's not my best work but I hope it's decent enough to made your day ^^ thank you for everything 💞

Autumn. The season of falling leaves and spooky festivals. The leaves turn a beautiful brown, red, and yellow at this time of year, the transition season from summer to winter. People are wearing their most comfortable sweaters and are curled up in their beds with hot beverages at hand.

It's a bit peculiar for someone as bright as Jenni to be born at the beginning of such a cold season. In Saeran's opinion, it doesn't suit her at all. She's the emblem of fresh air in the middle of spring or a soft breeze in the hot and dry summer. That would be the best way to describe her, or at least, what he feels inside when she's with him.

"Saeran, are you going to tell me where we're going, or do I have to guess?" Jenni's soft voice suddenly rang in his ear and snapped him back to reality. Right, he hadn't told her of their destination yet. It's a secret spot after all. He took a deep breath, tightening the grip a bit on their intertwined fingers before speaking.

"You'll know soon enough." She frowned a little at his words. She took a glance at her phone. It's 11.30 pm, already late at night if she's being honest. It's already suspicious enough that Saeyoung didn't seem to mind one bit when they went out just now. Usually, he would at least ask them to come home early or buy him some snacks.

But that's the least of her concerns now. She can't help but feel troubled about Saeran's odd behavior tonight. He kept glancing at her when he thought she was not looking and fidgeting with his fingers as if to calm his nerves down. Is there anything that happened that she's unaware of lately?

Taking a night walk like this is not unusual for both of them. The cool, gentle breeze during the night often has its way of lulling his head, which is usually filled with intrusive thoughts. She later decided to ask him about it once they arrived at whatever location Saeran was taking her to.

These anxious thoughts in her head were interrupted by his voice once again. "We're here."

She looks up and her eyes widen at the beautiful sight in front of her. Strings of fairy lights surround the cute picnic tent under the nearby tree. The moonlight somehow shines so beautifully that night, which makes the place even more luminous and fairytale-like.

He takes a quick look at her face to gauge her reaction, only to feel the blush creeping up his face at the sight. The way her eyes seemed to glow, her turquoise-like hair fell ever so gently against her shoulder, paired with her beaming smile, made his heart beat faster for some reason.

Her entire existence is more radiant than this picnic spot tonight. He sighs out a breath of relief after sensing there's no sign of disapproval on her face. Instead, it was filled with awe and adoration if he dared to guess.

"Do you like it?"

She was taken aback at the unexpected and seemingly ridiculous question. "Like it? This is breathtaking, Saeran! I love it. Very, very much."

He nodded while playing with his red hair in embarrassment. It looks like he's been fussing over nothing then. The happiness radiating off her face says it all.

He was about to take her hand again and walk towards the picnic spot when she stopped him midway. "Hey, Saeran..."

"Yeah?"

"Is this the reason you looked so worked up back then?"

He bites his lips, not saying anything for a while, before nodding his head. "I just... I'm worried you wouldn't like it."

She shook her head and took a gentle hold of his hands. "Saeran, you know you don't have to pressure yourself to prepare all of this for me, right? The real gift is having you and the RFA with me. I'm really happy just by spending my time by your side."

"It's... not my entire effort actually. Saeyoung helped me with these." Saeran was a bit flustered when he said these words.

It's true, he just prepared some food and a flower crown for her. The whole picnic setup was arranged by his brother after knowing a few days ago that she'd like to have a picnic date with Saeran someday. His brother can be a busybody, but this time, he's silently grateful for Saeyoung's help despite not being able to say it out loud.

She offered him a comforting smile while gently rubbing his hands in circles. "Still, you did contribute something to make all of these come true. I appreciate it, really."

The inside of the tent was even more fascinating than she thought. They seem to shimmer thanks to the fairy lights on the outside. There's a picnic basket with two pairs of soft blankets accompanied by... a flower crown?

After they both settled up nicely in the tent, Saeran cleared his throat before taking the flower crown into his hands, beckoning her to come closer to him.

"Here, your flower crown. Let me—" Saeran carefully placed the flower crown on her head. Morning glories and various colors of Asters are weaved together into the flower crown.

September is often associated with these two flowers in general. Morning glory is a symbol of strength and gives a person the power to realize their hopes and dreams. Whereas Aster is a symbol of love, wisdom, and faith. Such fitting flowers for someone like her, he thought to himself.

Aster also means 'star' which he finds fascinating since she would call him moonlight once in a while, claiming that that's the pet name that would best suit someone as mysterious and alluring as him. And now that he thinks about it, maybe it's not so bad that they complement each other like the moon and stars in the night sky.

He stared at her face for a second after putting the flower crown into its place. God, she's so... mesmerizing. His precious flower. She's his flower not because her beauty outshines the existing flowers, nor her delicate scent would put even the sweetest flower in shame. She's his flower because she has already blossomed in his heart, whether he realizes it or not.

"Saeran...?" He immediately looked away the moment he realized that he'd been staring for too long. Even Jenni's face seemed to flush a bit at his soft albeit rare gaze. But she liked that look on his face nevertheless. It's not every day that she gets to see Saeran letting his guard down like this.

"So, what do we have here?" She peeked into the picnic basket and found two tubs of vanilla ice cream and a beautifully decorated bento cake laying neatly beside each other. Simple and straightforward, just like Saeran himself.

"Oh, let's eat the ice cream first then. It'll melt if we keep it here for too long." Saeran nodded his head at her suggestion. They both took the blanket, getting cozy and warm after wrapping themselves up.

Saeran and Jenni didn't say anything while enjoying their ice cream for a moment. The occasional sound of the rustling leaves and gentle breeze outside the tent seemed to harmonize with their comfortable silence with each other. He was not much of a talker to begin with, and she was more than happy to indulge him during their time together like this, with or without words.

For some reason, being close to each other like this makes him feel relaxed and safe. He never had to worry about anything when he was with Jenni. He's not big on celebrations, much less his birthday. But someone like her deserves to be loved and celebrated for being the spark of hope in his dark and vacant life.

She's someone who could see the world through rose-colored glasses when all he saw was nightmares and pain. She would always listen to his requests and respect the boundaries he set up for himself. It's something that Saeran comes to appreciate because, let's be honest, even Saeyoung is guilty of deciding something for him without even asking what he wants.

He never had that much faith in this world, but if someone like her did exist, maybe... there is hope for people like him to be loved and cared for without expecting anything in return.

They both jumped a bit at the sudden midnight alarm on Jenni's phone, indicating that her birthday was finally here, right at this moment.

He sets aside his ice cream and brings out the bento cake from the basket, lighting up a single candle on it. He seemed to hesitate a bit before speaking his mind. "I heard that people often make a birthday wish before blowing the candle."

She nodded her head while looking at the cake in front of her. "It's true. My wish this year is quite simple, actually. I hope you get to smile more and stay healthy like this."

He frowned slightly at her answer, clearly not expecting that kind of wish from her side. "Why are you wasting your wishes on me?"

"Hm? I don't think I'm wasting anything at all. That's what I truly wish for, Saeran. Your happiness is my happiness as well. And I hope to see more of it in the future."

Saeran went silent and let her blow the candle after a while. That sounds so much like her. Selfless and caring for him. Much to his surprise, he suddenly leaned in to give her a soft peck on her lips. Jenni's heart skips a beat at the sudden affection before the beautiful shade of red creeps up her face.

"Happy birthday Jenni, my flower." He murmured against her lips, staring at her with the softest gaze under the shimmering moonlight. And she knew that this would be the most memorable birthday of her life.

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peterpparkrr · 2 years

Note

Is there any chance you could do the bee scene from the viscount who loved me book but making it clear that it's tv show anthony and kate instead of book kanthony? Sorry that's really specific but I don't wanna read the book since I love tv kate so much T-T

A/N: The bee scene in the book - at least the aftermath is absolutely hilarious PLUS Kate and Anthony’s chemistry on the show is INSANE so this is me trying to combine the two and also writing a happy ending because goddamnit these two deserve it. I couldn’t help myself!

Pairing: Kate Sharma x Anthony Bridgerton

Word Count: 2k

Summary: What if Season 2’s bee scene ended like it does in the book?

Bee Stings and Betrothals

Kate had a habit of going on an early morning ride whenever she needed to think.

And she had been going for a lot of rides ever since she’d arrived in England.

The wind helped her clear out her frazzled mind and the endless expanse of sky helped her calm her nerves. The Bridgerton estate in Kent, as loathe as she would be to ever admit it aloud, was so beautiful that it was the first time since they’d arrived on British shores that Kate felt any semblance of home.

As she trotted her borrowed horseback to the house Kate felt calmer than she had in days. She knew that things were far from resolved when it came to Lord Bridgerton and his interest in Edwina, but she had been overcome with a certain sense of acceptance after the events of their family’s shared dinner last night. That things would work out the way that they were meant to, even if she let her guard down and accepted the reality in front of her. And ignored whatever it was that she was beginning to feel for Anthony Bridgerton.

That calmness, however, was short-lived when she rode into the gardens and saw a familiar figure walking along one of the paths.

Kate dismounted her horse and made her way up to Lord Bridgerton.

“My Lord?” She called, alerting the Viscount to her presence as she walked towards him.

“Miss Sharma,” Anthony greeted her as he turned to face her.

He looked at her with an expression that Kate would be tempted to describe as sheepish, an expression that she was quite sure he rarely ever wore.

“Is your sister…?” He asked hesitantly.

“She is in her room,” Kate replied. “She is not feeling her best,” She adds. Kate knows it’s unnecessary, but she can’t help but remind him of her sister’s embarrassment. Not when she was the one to quell her sister’s doubt, the one to wipe the tears that had fallen onto Edwina’s cheeks. Tears that were his fault.

“I did not mean to disappoint her,” Anthony replied. “When I did not declare myself.”

Kate sighs but nods. She knows she shouldn’t be admonishing Anthony, not where she didn’t want him to court Edwina in the first place. Not when she still doesn’t want the pair to marry. Not when she knows, deep down, that they won’t suit, not the way- no. This was solely about Edwina, and the fact that she deserved to be with someone who loved her, who truly loved her, not for her reputation, or her status, or her beauty, but for who she is in her soul.

“I should thank you-”

“She shall not be disappointed for long, you must assure her that I still intend to propose,” Anthony adds quickly, cutting her off.

Kate stares at him, opening and then closing her mouth again when she can not form a coherent response.

“Last night was a lark at best, my brothers were up to no good and everyone sitting there, staring back at me, well,” Anthony sighs. “My feelings would not allow me to speak.”

“So your feelings are too strong for you now?” Kate asks with disbelief. Did he truly think her a fool? He had never once declared true feelings for Edwina. He had openly admitted to her again and again that his search for a wife would have nothing to do with love.

If he thought that she would just sit by and allow her sister to accept a loveless marriage…

“Miss Sharma,” Anthony sighs.

“No, no! All you are doing is toying with the emotions of an impressionable young lady,” Kate hisses.

“Miss Edwina is perfectly capable of forming her own impressions, perhaps if you took notice of that-” Anthony argues.

“So now you claim to know my own sister better than me?” Kate scoffs.

“I know that your sister wishes to be happy,” Anthony asserts with a challenging look in his eyes.

“This is precisely what I wish for her, and I can assure you that happiness is not your strength. Exasperation, perhaps vexation, most definitely,” Kate replies with a scoff. “The only feeling that you are capable of engendering, my lord, is that of discontent!”

Kate had been so enraged that she hadn’t even noticed Anthony’s boring stare flit down from her face to her chest.

“Stop that! Stand still,” Anthony commanded suddenly.

“Do not tell me what to do!” Kate shouts back as she stepped back from him, her chest still heaving with emotion.

“No no no, do not do that,” Anthony said quickly, his eyes still trained on her collarbone as he grabbed her by the tops of her arms, holding her in place as they both looked down, and Kate finally saw the bee crawling along the collar of her dress.

Kate pushed him off her once she had remembered herself.

“It is only a bee- Ow!” She hisses as it stung her, pursing her lips and hissing out a breath as she continued to try to push away from Anthony.

“Are you hurt? Can you breathe?” Anthony asks, his voice suddenly desperate.

Kate stared at him with bewilderment as she realized just how fearful Anthony sounded.

Not again. He couldn't do this again. Anthony did not know what he’d done in a past life, or in this current life to deserve this hell, to have to go through this not once, but twice. To see one’s father die was one thing, one awful, unforgettable nightmare, but this couldn’t happen again, not again.

Not Kate.

“What?” Kate asks in complete confusion.

“Oh my god,” Anthony breathed out as his gaze flittered rapidly between Kate’s face and the sting. She wasn't swelling not the way that- But it would only be a matter of time, moments.

Kate was going to die. And he had to stop it. He hadn’t known what to do when his father had been stung. He had been useless. But now he needed to act. At that moment all Anthony could think of was Kate, and how if he let her die he would never recover. He had to save her.

Before Kate could do anything Anthony grabbed her by the shoulder with one hand, and ripped at the bodice of her gown with the other, pulling the velvet material down to expose the wound better.

“My Lord! Stop it!” Kate hisses as the top of her breast was suddenly exposed. What on earth did he think he was doing?

He said nothing, his breath was ragged as began to press against her bosom forcefully pressing a finger against her chest on either side of the sting.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, stop that at once-” Kate continued to protest as she pushed at Anthony’s shoulders in vain. Though he was undeterred.

“Stay still!” Anthony hisses.

“I’m expressing the venom,” He explains quietly as he continues to press against her, his breathing still erratic.

“Is there venom?” Kate asked. She certainly wasn’t going to claim to be an expert in entomology, but that didn’t exactly sound correct to her.

“There must be, something is killing you,” Anthony replies, his eyes wide as he looks up at Kate with pure panic.

“My lord,” Kate starts, “Anthony,” She tried again, wishing desperately to calm him down from whatever sort of state he was in.

“I have to get it all out,” Anthony says as he shakes his head.

And Anthony brought his face closer to Kate’s, closing the distance between them even more, something Kate did not even realize was possible. His face moved towards her as if he were about to kiss her.

And then before she could even realize what was happening, his lips were pressing to the top of her breast.

Kate gasped.

“Anthony! You can’t-” She shrieked, though she was unable to finish that sentence, as she lifted her head to see three women staring back at her from across the garden.

Mary.

Lady Bridgerton.

And Lady Featherington, who must have just arrived with the rest of the guests whose carriages she’d seen along the road on her ride back to the house.

“Kate!”

At the sound of Mary’s shock Kate finally found the strength to fully push Anthony off of her.

“He wasn’t, I wasn’t-” Kate floundered. “I was stung by a bee!”

“He was kissing your breast!” Mrs. Featherington protested as she looked on in shock, clearly already bursting at the seams to shout from the rooftops what she had just caught them doing.

Anthony merely stood and stared at the three women in front of him. Uncharacteristically silent.

“Well, you’ve compromised the woman, you must marry her,” Lady Featherington continued.

“Anthony,” Lady Bridgerton began.

“Of course I will, Of course I will marry Miss Sharma,” Anthony suddenly replied as he finally snapped out of his daze.

“We will announce our engagement at the ball tonight,” He continued with a nod to the three women. “So there will be no need to speak of what you have seen.”

“My lord, you do not need to-” Kate began to protest.

“We will marry,” Anthony repeated, this time looking directly at Kate.

Kate stared back at him.

“If I might have a moment alone with my fiancée?” He asked the three women who all merely nodded. Too shocked to say much else. Anthony trusted that his mother would ensure that Lady Featherington kept this incident to herself. “To speak with her,” He added. Assumedly more for their mother’s benefit than anything else.

Kate dragged Anthony further into the gardens, not stopping until she was confident that they were out of earshot of the mothers.

“You do not need to marry me,” Kate began to protest.

“If we do not marry Lady Featherington will tell the entirety of London what she saw,” Anthony replied with a dismissive shake of her head. “It would not only ruin you, Miss Sharma, but your sister, and mine.”

“We will marry, there will not be a chance for gossip.”

“But Edwina-” Kate began.

“Edwina will marry someone else, she has plenty of options to choose from,” Anthony replies. “You never wanted her to marry me, remember? She can marry someone who truly cares for her.”

“And you suppose I want to marry you?”

“I know this cannot be what you want,” Anthony tells her with his head hung. “But Kate,” Anthony sighs.

“Kate, I am in love with you,” He admits as he looks up at her. “And I do not need you to say anything, or to do anything, but… My father died of a bee sting when I was seventeen. I was with him when it happened and I…I couldn’t do anything to save him.”

“Kate, the thought of you dying. And the thought of you dying in the exact same way? I couldn’t not have borne it. So please, please marry me. If not for your family, then marry me because I love you and I will do whatever it takes to make you happy and to keep you safe.”

“There is nothing for me to say,” Kate replies, shaking her head slightly. “Except that I love you too,” She says as she laughs in disbelief.

If Anthony could bottle that sound he would. And he can’t help himself as he grins back at her and brings his hands to her cheeks. Relishing in the chance to truly touch her.

“We’ve been caught in a scandalous position, Lord Anthony Bridgerton,” Kate points out with a mischievous grin. “I suspect you shall have to kiss me at least once before the wedding if we are to live up to the rumors.”

“Gladly, Miss Kathani Sharma,” Anthony replied. “Gladly.”

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton Series #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton x kate sharma #kate sharma fanfic #kate sharma x anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfic #requested #bridgerton request #anthony x kate #anthony x kate request

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starlightxsvt · 3 years

Text

Home | k.mg

pairing ➳ businessman!mingyu x female!reader

genre ➳ strangers to lovers, romance, slice of life, angst, fluff, gets spicy at the end

word count ➳ 5.6k (apx)

warnings ➳ cursing, reader is really indecisive, heavy makeout, implications of sexual activity.

synopsis ➳ an attractive stranger visits your cabin for a week with whom you quickly bond, developing some strong feelings in the process; leaving you to wonder if he's worth leaving everything behind.

A/N: henlooo~ I finally posted! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I didn't really feel like writing for a while, hence the delay. I hope y'all enjoy this piece and please don't forget to leave some feedback! It really motivates me :)

A cool gust of wind blew by as you finished typing your last column, leaving a soothing feeling behind as you exhaled loudly. It was hard to finish this piece of writing for some reason, maybe because you lacked inspiration or maybe because your life had been monotonous for a while or simply, a mix of both. Closing your laptop you stretch your hands and legs, feeling somewhat productive. Humming a tune, you looked out the window to see a Lamborghini come to a halt at the entrance.

It piqued your interest because it's not often that people riding Lamborghini come in this cabin so genuinely you're interested in the visitor. You shifted in your chair, waiting for the man to come upstairs to the reception and sure enough a tall- really tall man dressed in a neatly pressed suit appears into your view, briskly walking towards the reception where Chan stood to greet him. You could not get a good look at his face as he moved around quickly, grabbing his small carry on and heading towards his cabin after the formalities.

You watched his tall frame walking away as you got up from your seat and moved towards Chan.

"Who is he?"

"Kim Mingyu," Chan explained, resting his arms on the reception table." A millionaire, owns a lot of companies. No wonder he looked familiar."

"Oh, really? How long is he staying?"

"He has booked for five days. Said he might extend his stay."

"I see."

"Why are you so curious though?" Chan raised a brow at you, tilting his head to a side.

"Nothing." You shrugged. "He just has different vibes than the other people that come here you know?"

Chan hummed in agreement.

There was never much visitors during the rainy season which was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing because that meant the cabin was less hectic and curse because sometimes you are bound to get a bit too bored. You were helping yourself with a cup of tea to somewhat feel re-energised when your newest and the only guest for the week appeared from his cabin, padding through the corridor and stepping into the common kitchen area. You were taken aback for a moment before you composed yourself and smiled at your guest, "Good morning, Mr. Kim. May I help you with anything?"

"Mingyu, please," the tall male replied while scanning the kitchen area. "You're the owner right? What's the food arrangement here?"

"Well, our guests generally cook for themselves or order takeout. When there are many guests I sometimes do the cooking."

Nodding, he hummed before putting in a capsule in the cappuccino machine. You took a seat by the window, tea in your hand as you watched the male move around like he knew this place. Dressed in his pajamas and judging by the fluffy mess that his hair was you assumed he had a good night's sleep.

"I hope you had a pleasant night, Mr- Mingyu." You said to your guest who had whipped out a pan from the cupboard and was making omelette. "Yes, surprisingly so. Normally I have trouble falling asleep but I slept like a baby last night," he casually conversed as he prepared his breakfast.

You smiled, "Well, I'm glad to know that. If you need anything let my staffs or me know."

"Sure. Oh- I didn't get your name though." Mingyu turned to meet your eyes.

"___," you smiled.

"___, okay."

"This is gonna be a rainy week," Hoshi said from behind you as he stood holding a tub of fresh soil for the plants in the backyard of the cabin. You sat on your knees, eyeing the plants which needed their soil changed.

"Yeah? Well, good thing there isn't much guests now."

"I think there should be, I mean it's so pretty here during the rain too. People need to look at it themselves." Hoshi complained.

"Well, most people don't like going out in the rain. Pass me the soil, Hoshi. Let's get this finished before the shower starts."

Hoshi handed you the tub of soil as the sky above started growling, full of thick black clouds. It was gonna start raining soon.

Hoshi spoke, "Oh, Mr.Kim, Mingyu you know, asked me about the beach by the marketplace. Apparently he wants to visit so he asked me if I was free to show him around."

"And let me guess, you aren't?" You rolled your eyes.

Soonyoung pouted, "No! Well I would have given him a tour today if the weather wasn't so bad. And my friends are coming tomorrow, so I'll be busy then."

"Wait- you're friends are coming?" You turned, glaring at the boy who smiles sheepishly, "Oh! Um- I didn't tell you? Well they're only staying for a couple of days and it's not like they're staying for free."

"Well, make sure they clean after themselves okay? If I see them trashing all over the place like last time, I'm kicking you out with them." You gave him a pointed look.

"Okay okay," Hoshi rolled his eyes, puffing his cheeks. "Just- take the CEO out on a tour tomorrow for me okay? I haven't seen my friends in a long time."

"Alright, I will...if the weather is good which probably won't be." You sighed, gently removing the old soil.

Hoshi mused about Mingyu, "Bummer for him, he came in a wrong time. It's weird, no? We don't have such guests like him."

"Yeah," you hummed, focused on handling your roses.

Hoshi's friend, Seokmin and Seungkwan appeared early in the morning next day as you watched Hoshi vibrate from happiness when he hugged them. You smiled to yourself, laughing at at the antics of your staff as you saw him guide his friends into their cabin. The day was once again filled with dark clouds and raining which occurred every other hour. You and Chan cleaned up and completed some chores as the noon fell.

"Should I cook something up for them?" You wondered as Chan finished cleaning the common space of the first cabin.

"Nah, Seokmin hyung is cooking for them. He's a pretty good cook actually."

"Really? That's nice." You said pulling up a chair to sit down. "Are you gonna join them? Hoshi has been with his friends since they came."

"Yeah, probably. You should join us too."

"No, I think I'm gonna take a nap. I feel so tired."

"Alright."

You watched as Chan climbed down the stairs and stepped towards the second cabin where everyone else was. You were about to head to your room when the CEO, Mingyu appeared in the kitchen.

"Oh, hello."

"Hi."

"I haven't seen you since morning," you said watching as Mingyu poured himself a glass of water.

"Yeah, I woke up early today, went for a jog."

"Ah, I see."

"Couldn't go far though, the weather sucks you know." He said leaning against the kitchen top.

"Yeah. But I heard that it should get better from tomorrow. I could show you around if you want to. Hoshi, my staff, is going to busy for a while so I can guide you around."

"Really? That would be cool." Mingyu smiled. There was a small stretch of silence as you both listened to the rainfall before he spoke, "Have you had lunch?"

"Uh-no."

"Would you like to join me?" He asked "This is the longest time I've been alone and it feels a bit weird," he murmured more to himself than you.

"I mean- I don't mind," you shrugged. "Though I should be the one doing it."

"It's okay. People say I am a good cook," Mingyu smiled, his eyes crinkling.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to see."

It was weird how comfortable you felt watching Mingyu being clumsy and bump into things as he prepared your meal. It felt like you've been doing this forever- like you've known him forever and you thought to yourself what was suddenly wrong with you. He made small talk as he cooked and it felt easy talking with him- almost impossible to believe that he was stranger. He was friendly and easy to get along with, definitely not a cold and grumpy businessman like you imagined him to be.

Mingyu grinned as he set down the food in front of you- chicken soup, rice and cheese omelette. His eyes twinkled excitedly as he watched you take a bite, waiting for you to say something.

"What are you? A part time chef or something?" You tried not to moan as you chewed because it was that good. Mingyu laughed- a sweet, shy laugh that had his canines showing and his eyes forming crescents. "Thank you. I learned from my mom. I like cooking for myself when I get the time which is not often," he smiled- almost sadly.

"Well, you can cook for me all you want as long as you're here because this is amazing!" You grinned at him, cheeks puffed with food.

Mingyu chuckled softly as he dug in and you both started eating. It felt nice, to talk to someone new and spend time with them, someone other than Chan or Hoshi. It was a nice change- a change you probably needed for a while.

"So...What brings you here?" You asked as you finished your food, setting down the spoon and leaning back into the chair. Mingyu who was still eating, looked at you with a perplexed expression so you spoke, "I mean...we don't generally have guests like you. And it's not even a good time to visit...so I was wondering what brought you here?"

"Guests like me? What does that mean?"

"I mean...rich, okay?" You fumbled, feeling awkward. Maybe you shouldn't have asked. "Like...there are fancier places to visit, you know..."

Mingyu smiled at your words for a moment before he deadpanned, "I'm running away."

"Running away?" You gasped, almost jumping from your seat, "From who? The cops?"

"It would have been better but no, my family," he said, his voice as serious as ever.

"Oh...I see," you fell quiet. It definitely wasn't the answer you expected. You both remained silent for a while as he started out the window, lost in thoughts. "It must have been really bad if you're hiding out here." You spoke softly.

"It has always been," he mumbled. "I just couldn't take it anymore, you know? I desperately needed a break," he spoke more to himself than you. Instead of prodding further, you sat quietly, watching him and listening to his words. Seeing him now, he definitely looks troubled and you didn't exactly have the words to console him.

So you whispered, "Well, I hope it gets better."

Later that night, you find Hoshi and his friends and Chan preparing for a bonfire in the front yard of the cabin.

"Wow, you all are really having fun, no?" You said as you fisted your hands in your pockets from the chilly weather. The air was colder than other nights and everyone including you had put on some warm clothes.

"You wanna join us?" Seokmin asked as he stacked logs on top of each other.

"Nah, it's fine. You four carry on," you patted his back as you started walking back towards the cabin and saw Chan and Hoshi coming out with some boxes in their hands.

"Hey! There are marshmallows in the kitchen cabinet if you want.... nevermind," you finished as you saw beer cans and soju bottles in their hands.

"We're gonna get drunk baby!" Soonyoung yelled, grinning like a fool.

"Hyung, you look drunk already," Chan gave him a side look as they trudged towards the bonfire.

Laughing at their antics you climbed the stairs to the kitchen, preparing some hot chocolate for yourself. Holding the mug on one hand you knocked on the door to Mingyu's room, checking up on him since you haven't seen him since lunch.

The door opened revealing Mingyu in a baggy shirt and pajamas, his hair fluffy and messy.

"Hey," you chriped. "Wanted to check up on you. You wanna join the others in the bonfire?"

"Nah, I'm good. I've been watching them from the balcony." He smiled, his pointy canines showing.

"Oh, I see."

"You wanna come in? I've been getting lonely." He offered, moving away from the door to make space for you.

"Uh- I don't mind," you murmured, surprised that he asked you to come in. You tentatively stepped in and it was fair to say that you were surprised to see the room neat and pristine as most guests kept their room messy.

He ushered you into the balcony, which had a great view of your yard and the forest behind. You saw others laughing loudly as Soonyoung acted something out. Mingyu's voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"You didn't join them?"

"Nah, they can get too loud sometimes," you chuckled, taking a seat on the bench. You eyed an empty mug lying by, guessing that Mingyu already had his fill of hot chocolate.

Mingyu took a seat beside you, stretching his legs and sighing as he mused, "The view is great."

You hummed your agreement. It was indeed. Not only did you have the full view of your yard and the forest, but you could see a vast horizon of the night sky, some stars twinkling through the clouds.

"It's even more beautiful during summer. You can see so many stars that it feels unreal." You told him.

"Then I will try to visit again during summer," he smiled and you were not sure if he was serious or joking. However you replied with a smile, "You're always welcome."

A silence falls among you two after that but it's not uncomfortable, as you both watched the night grow and Soonyoung and his friends got louder.

"Things got really hard for me, you know," Mingyu started speaking, his voice soft as he stared at the mesh of trees ahead. You were somewhat surprised at his words, but you didn't interrupt, opting for him to continue.

"Running a million dollar company was never easy but...it suddenly was unbearable. My parents always interfered in my work and how I run the company but I managed through all of that, really...until..." Mingyu heaved a long sigh, abruptly stopping.

"Until?" You tentatively asked, peeking at him.

"They want me to get married. With the daughter of their business partner. A marriage of convenience, really."

Oh.

You fell silent, watching him as the moonlight dimly lit the side of his face. There wasn't enough light to see his face completely, but enough to see the curve of his face, his sharp jawline and the sad, lost look in his eyes. Your heart suddenly ached for him. Silently you patted his shoulder, conjuring up some words to console him.

"That's ...awful, really. I'm sorry."

"I've never been so mad in my whole life. Can't they just leave me alone? They treat me like a puppet, like my only job is to live for them. I'm so done. " He said, his hands forming fists.

There's a beat of silence as you quietly patted his back and watched your friends get wasted by the bonfire before he chuckled softly, "I'm sorry for dumping all these on you. I just couldn't hold them in you know-"

"It's really fine, Mingyu. I don't mind. It would be nice if I could actually help you," you sighed, retracting your hand.

"Trust me, you are," he said and you caught a smile on his face.

"I suppose you don't have a significant other? Someone you could talk to freely?"

He shook his head. "That is why I came here. Needed to get my thoughts together, away from them. Not to mention I don't remember the last time I went on a vacation."

"And have you got your thoughts together?"

"I think so, yeah." He shrugged.

"What are you gonna do?" You asked tilting your head.

"Stand strong in my ground, I guess. There's no way I'm marrying their business partner, I'd rather die. And if all else fails, I'm staying here. I'm sure you have some type of job for me, right?"

You laughed at his words, "Maybe. But I'm not sure about your skills, Mr. Kim."

"Oh I'm a fast learner, Miss ___."

You both grinned at each other.

That night when you went back to your room, your thoughts were plagued by Mingyu and you could swear you saw him in your dreams too.

The next morning is brighter and shinier; the sky relatively clear other than some light clouds. After getting dressed and checking up on Hoshi and Chan who were still sleeping, you trudged through the cabin and towards Mingyu's room, before knocking on it. A fully dressed Mingyu appeared, clad in a white polo and jeans, his hair styled messily. He looked effortlessly attractive, making your heart skipp a few beats.

Damn it, what was wrong with you?

"Hi," you almost missed a breath, your face flushed with warmth.

"Oh, hey. I was about to come to you. I believe you were to show me around." Mingyu grinned, his pointy canines showing.

"And that is what I'm here for, Mr. Kim."

"Great! Let's get going. We'll take my car."

After showing Mingyu around for a couple of hours, you both ended up at the beach by the marketplace, sitting on the sand next to each other. The weather was nice; not too hot, not too cold as a light breeze flew by occasionally. Though you could see some black clouds gathering above, it wasn't to rain until evening if the forecast was correct.

"This place is so pretty," Mingyu mused, making you smile.

"I know right. The weather is great too."

You both watched the waves crash to the shore, occasionally wetting your feet as you both relaxed on the sand. There was a silence, a comfortable one as you finished eating the corndog you bought from the market earlier with some groceries. As you finished the last bite, Mingyu turned to face you and asked, "Tell me about yourself."

"What?" A squeak of surprise escaped from you.

"I shared a lot about myself last night. It's only fair I get to know about you too."

"Well..." You pondered. "There isn't much to tell. I've a pretty dull life, unlike you."

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head, "Does the cabin belong to your parents? Is it like a family business type of thing?"

"No, not really," you smiled softly. "My parents are dead. The cabin belonged to my grandfather."

"Oh- I'm sorry."

"No it's okay. They passed away in an accident when I was a kid so I don't remember them much." You spoke, watching the sea, "My grandparents raised me. Growing up I've spent a lot of time in the cabin and when my grandfather retired he handed the job to me."

"Are they alive? Your grandparents?" He asked tentatively.

You shook your head, "Grandpa passed away a couple years ago and it's been a few months since grandma did too."

"I'm sorry, you must've been lonely," Mingyu offered, his voice soft.

You shrugged, "Yeah, like I said, nothing interesting going on in my life."

Mingyu hummed noncommittally and there was a few moments of silence before he spoke again, "Was managing the cabin something you have always wanted to do?"

You were quiet for a while as you thought over the question, "No...not really. I've just kept doing the job I was handed to. I haven't really thought about what I want to do."

"Well...I think you should hire a manager in your place and maybe...I don't come to the city and make friends, see what calls for you."

"Yeah, I've thought about it. But I don't know really." You murmured.

"Well, give it some thought. I could help you find a manager. In fact, I could help promote and upgrade your cabin if you'd let me. It'll be a good investment."

You laughed softly, not taking his words too seriously. He was just a guest. He was probably just being nice.

A gust of strong wind flew by, ruining your hair as it poked into your eyes and you laughed when your eyes landed on Mingyu.

"What?"

His hair was sticking in different directions because of the wind and you shook your head with a smile as you reached to pat the hairs back into place. It happened naturally, before you could stop yourself. For a moment your eyes meet as you quickly retract your hand, face heated.

Something was definitely wrong with you.

Mingyu's gaze stayed at you for a while; you could feel his intense eyes on you and you thought maybe he didn't like you touching him. Before your thoughts ran more rampant, he spoke.

"___?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you...Do you have a home?"

"Home?" You were confused.

"Yes, home. Not like a real house but like a... person. Someone who makes you feel at ease, someone with whom you can be yourself without judgements, someone who keeps you cozy and safe and loved...like a home."

Somewhat taken aback by his words, you fell silent but their depth hit you and you found yourself thinking about it. Do you have a home?

No. No, you don't.

You shook your head, murmuring, "No."

Mingyu nodded taking his eyes off you.

"What about you?" You asked.

"Me neither."

You smiled, "Figures. Because if you had someone you wouldn't have run here but went to them."

Mingyu smiled, a sad smile gracing his lips. It was a somewhat bitter truth, he hadn't found his home no matter how much he looked for it. Maybe that's what he was doing wrong, looking desperately.

"Let's get going. It has started to rain," Your voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he felt small drops of water fall on his face. You reached your hand out to him and he took it, standing up. As you both jogged towards Mingyu's car, your hands remained connected, no one bothering to let go.

That night you had dinner with Mingyu again but this time it was you who did the cooking. After enjoying dinner over small talk, Mingyu like the gentleman he is did the dishes as you poured some wine for the two of you.

Sitting on the small table in common space by the window, you both watched the clear sky that had appeared after the shower. You sipped your wine, watching the vast expanse of stars that blinked in the dark sky.

"I think I've to go back tomorrow," Mingyu suddenly whispered, his tone so low you almost thought you misheard him. A bolt out the blue, you looked at him.

"Tomorrow?"

"Mmhmm," he fiddled with the hem of his cardigan as he stared at the table. "I've got so many calls and messages from work. My company won't run on its on, I can be gone for only so long." He sighed.

You didn't offer any words, too shocked to know that he'd be gone tomorrow. What is this attachment you've developed towards him? Why did the thought of someone, almost a stranger going back to where he came from, where he belonged hurt you so much? You didn't know what to label your feelings but realizing that you'd probably never see him again was tugging at your heartstrings.

Should you ask him for his number and stay connected with him? Is there even a point in that? You both live miles away from each other. Or should just take his advice and follow him to the city? Would that even be a good idea? Are you just reading all this wrong?

You were so invested in your thoughts that you didn't realize Mingyu was calling you until he shook your shoulder.

"You okay, ___?"

"Huh? Yeah...it's just, the news is really sudden. I didn't... expect you'd return so soon." You mumbled.

Mingyu sighed, his shoulder dropping a little bit. "Trust me, if I could I'd stay here forever. But...I can't keep running. I need to face my parents, the sooner the better."

At a loss of what to say, you just nodded. Reaching for your drink you took a big gulp, trying to calm your nerves. It's okay, you can do this. He's just another one of your guests.

You stood up, taking the empty glass in your hand, "Well, I better leave you alone now. I'm sure you've got packing to do."

You almost turned away; until a strong hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back, making you stumble towards Mingyu's body.

"Don't. Stay for a while. I don't want you to leave." His voice was soft yet deep and it immediately broke your resolve as you set the glass down and looked into his eyes.

He didn't let go of your wrist; instead only wrapped his other hand around your waist, pulling you closer, leaving just a few inches between your faces. You didn't tell him to move neither did you make any effort to get away from him- you didn't want to. It felt good, comforting as he held you and looked at you almost like you were his whole world. His eyes had so much emotion swirling in them and you were sure yours looked the same too.

"___?" His voice was breathy and it set your heart aflame.

"Y-yes?"

"Can I...kiss you?"

You inhaled sharply as his hold on you got tighter. You couldn't process a reply, overwhelmed with emotion. So you just nodded and Mingyu leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

It was soft at first, his lips just resting against yours, as if he was testing the waters. When you didn't resist but only pulled him closer, he started devouring you, his tongue prodding in your wet cavern. Moans espaced from you as you kept pulling at his hair almost grinding on him, desperate for more. He was the same, kissing you with so much passion and vigour like you were the last female standing.

You somehow managed to tug off his cardigan between the kiss and when you pulled apart for air, Mingyu panted, "Can we take this to the bedroom?"

His deep raspy voice spread liquid heat throughout your body and you had to stop yourself from pouncing on him.

"Yes please," you breathed. Mingyu stood up straight, his tall and built body intimidating you in the best ways possible, "Oh baby, you don't have to beg. I'll give you anything you want."

Once again your breath was trapped as he picked you up, his hand under your ass to support you. When he dropped you on his bed and took off his tee you realized you were in for a long night. In the back of your mind, you also realized that this would make it even harder to let him go.

Next morning you were the first one to wake up as the sun barely seeped through the blinds. If you had to guess it wasn't any more than six am. Mingyu's hand rested on your waist as he remained snuggled against your back. It was so comforting that you almost forgot your reality and went back to sleep, until you remembered what had happened last night. Before you could start overthinking and possibly had a breakdown right there, you ever so carefully removed his hand from your body and scrawled out of the bed, grabbing your shirt and quickly throwing it on. Then you tiptoped out of his room despite the ache between your legs and rushed straight towards yours.

Slamming the door shut, your sat down, head in your hands. You've to now prepare for saying goodbye. Right, you just need to act casual and not let him know that you might have developed feelings for him in the past week.

His words came back to you.

"Do you have a home?"

You didn't have one until now but the realization that you may have found it brought tears to your eyes.

You spent the next hours wallowing in your self pity, curled up in your bed too afraid to get out and face Mingyu. Soonyoung dropped by once, knocking at your door and asking if you want breakfast, which you declined. Time slowly ticked away and you watched as the clock struck eleven. You couldn't stay inside forever. You needed to bid Mingyu a goodbye- that is if he hadn't left already. But you were sure he didn't; he wouldn't just leave without any words.

Sighing, you gathered every last bit of your courage and stepped out of your room. Immediately you saw Mingyu coming out from the opposite end of the corridor, the carry-on he brought with him in his hand.

"Hey, where have you been?" He asked, his steps getting quicker to come and stand in front of you.

"Oh- um, I took and shower and then dozed off, sorry," you lied easily, not meeting his eyes.

There was a beat of silence as you both stood in front of each other and when your eyes finally met his, a blush spread across his face like wildfire. The air was heavy with unsaid words and you coughed, trying to get rid of the terrible awkwardness.

"So, you're leaving now?"

What a nice question.

Mingyu seemed to be lost in thoughts as he snapped back to reality and scratched the back of his head, "Oh yeah, right. It'll be a couple hours drive so the earlier I leave the better."

Nodding you motioned your hand towards the exit, "I'll see you out."

Mingyu seemed to have something to say but he pressed his lips in a thin line and started to climb down the stairs, you behind him. Soonyoung, who was standing at the entrance gave you a conspirational wiggle of his brows but said nothing as he watched you follow Mingyu out.

You observed as Mingyu loaded his bag in the trunk, peeking glances at you every other second. When he finished, you spoke, "Well...good luck. I hope you can overcome your problems."

"Thanks. It won't be easy and my dad will probably take away my shares of the company but...I'm done living like this."

You nodded, smiling softly as you crossed your arms against your chest. It suddenly felt cold.

You both gazed at each other, saying nothing even though you've so much to say, as if the silence would carry your unsaid words to him. You were torn- wanting to talk about last night but chickening out knowing it was probably just a fling, a one night stand for him.

"___..." Mingyu spoke but the words died on his tongue. Not trusting yourself to speak, you swallwed the ball of emotions and looked at him with a curious tilt of head.

"...I hope you find what you really want to do. And I hope you find your home too," he said, his words so soft and gentle. For some reason you had a feeling that those were not the words he wanted to say yet you forced a smile and nodded, "You too, Mingyu."

His eyes swirled with so my emotions but you didn't know what he was thinking. He looked pained, just like you but you were too afraid to speak your feelings, scared that you misread him.

When you spoke no more, Mingyu sighed and backstopped slowly, "Well... goodbye, then."

You managed to choke out the words, "Goodbye."

Your emotions overwhelmed you, tears stinging your eyes as you watched him enter his car. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like your heart was being ripped right out of your chest?

His engine roared to life and your stomach sunk. Was this really the right thing to do? Should you just let him go like this?

You made a split second decision that moment, just as his car moved forward a little.

"Mingyu!" You called after him, immediately making him stop the car. He came out, almost in a hurry, an expectant look on his face as you ran towards him. Then you made another split second decision as you wrapped your arms around his tall frame and held tight.

"I like you, Mingyu. I really like you." You mumbled in his chest.

He didn't say anything back but you felt his arms wrapping around you tightly and you stood there in each others embrace for a while. It felt like time has stopped, the warmth and safety of his arms comforting you and making you realize how you would have regretted if you had let him go.

Mingyu pulled back to take a look at your face, his hand cupping your cheeks, his warm but intense eyes on you, shining with love and adoration.

"Say something," you whispered, still unsure.

He chuckled, a light-hearted, carefree sound that made your heart swoon. "I like you too, if it wasn't obvious after last night."

Elated, you pulled his face down and kissed his lips as you felt him grin and wrap his arms around you once again.

"I want to go with you...to the city," you murmured into his chest as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

You couldn't see it but you felt him smirk, "Good. Because I think I found my home."

Your heart couldn't become fuller as you grinned like a happy child.

"Me too."

A/N 2: If you enjoyed reading don't forget to like and reblog and let me know your thoughts!

#seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt fic #svt smut #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #svt mingyu #svt fake texts

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glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

You may have a little Lorenz Prompt as promised. As a treat. Here goes~

Lorenz taking thorough notes to surprise his s/o (is it the blog owner? the reader? some random character? It doesn't matter~!) with the most lovely, romantic date imaginable based around everything they like. He wouldn't put in this much effort to TRULY impress someone, but you're worth every step and more.

Enjoy where this takes your thoughts~!

(and pls don't eat it, Tumblr)

Y'know what, I've had a shitty day and I just finished writing some darker content- so I am going to ~indulge~. Normally I try to make my Reader character as broadly relatable as possible, but today we're going with MY preferences and interests because I WANT A NICE DATE WITH LORENZ GODDAMNIT

Lorenz (FE3H) x GN Reader - perfect date

Fluff - SFW

Today simply has to be flawless- the Gloucester heir will not accept any less. Not when it comes to you. Of course, Lorenz holds himself to high standards in all things, but the thought of providing anything less than perfection for you is one that pains him to even consider. Especially now that he'd finally gotten the courage- or, rather, found the right and proper time to ask you to spend the day with him.

You approach him at the Monastery gates not long after noon that day, and find your pace slowing as you eye him before he's noticed you. Without his usual elegant set of armor, you can appreciate the way constant marching and training has toned his slender frame- and appreciate it, you most certainly do. Though he soon turns to face you, and your eyes dart back up from a rather ignoble place to meet his instead.

"You're as radiant as ever, I see," he says with a warm smile. He offers you an arm and you take it, replying with a grin,

"You've already got me for the day, Lorenz, there's no need for flattery."

"'Flattery' implies a measure of falsehood," he says with confidence, leading you towards town, "and I could never bring myself to lie to one so lovely."

As your time together proceeds, you can't help but feel that, some way, somehow, Lorenz has some kind of psychic insight into your preferences. Everywhere you turn, whatever your heart could desire is immediately available and set before you with hardly any negotiation at play. At the first flower stall you find, Lorenz takes a moment to exchange words with the owner while you admire the sprawling array of colorful blooms; and by the time he's returned, he's holding a woven crown of delicate little white flowers. With an admiring smile, he carefully places it on your head, a hand trailing down a lock of your hair as he pulls away to observe you.

With a shy grin, you perform an exaggerated curtsy, prompting Lorenz to laugh fondly and take you by the hand. He twirls you slowly under his arm, watching you all the while, then says,

"They suit you every bit as wonderfully as I'd thought."

"They're my favorites," you reply.

"I know- erm, that is- I know of a superb bakery down the block this way," Lorenz seems a bit red in the face, but you chalk that up to nerves.

He's not wrong though- this bakery is something else. The selection and quality of ingredients is on an entirely new level compared to the Monastery's dining hall, and you find yourself overwhelmed even reading down the list of items posted to the wall. By your third pass over the full range of options, the words are starting to dance in your eyes- but a warm touch at your arm shakes your focus. Lorenz leans close to be heard over the rapidly growing crowd at the bakery's counter,

"Might I make a recommendation?" you nod, and he goes on, "I happen to have it on good authority that there's an item not included on this menu that you may like. It incorporates three different treatments of Brigid cocoa, if that is of any interest to you."

Your eyes light up and you can practically feel the rich sweetness across your tongue already.

"That sounds incredible," you reply, enraptured by the very thought. When you start to ask how he'd heard of such a thing, Lorenz has already turned to speak to the worker taking orders, and your words drown among the crowd of customers. The speed at which he acquires this mythical pastry only fills your mind with more questions. How did he manage to purchase an off-menu item so quickly? Wouldn't the cost of something requiring those many luxurious imported ingredients be astronomical?

But then, Lorenz returns to your side and guides you out of the crowded shop, and the sight of the delectable chocolatey treat in his hands dashes all other thoughts from your mind. He hands it to you wrapped in a handkerchief, and you can't help but immediately plunge in for a bite.

"Mmmm-!" you wear an expression of pure bliss as your mouth fills with sweet, savory chocolate, "Oh- Lorenz, it's so good!"

When you glance up at him, he's watching you with a strangely heavy expression. Once more, his fair complexion is painted a light red. You tilt your head curiously, and he seems to resurface from whatever thoughts had taken him for the moment.

"Here- you should try some," you break off a piece and hold it up to him.

"Are- are you certain? I had intended for you to enjoy it to your heart's content," he stammers out, evidently still a bit flushed.

"I want you to get to have some too. Please?" You hate to resort to puppy eyes with him, but it's hard to argue with the results. He leans forward and accepts the piece of pastry from your hand. You don't shy away from him in the slightest, and so a brief brush of his lower lip along the tip of your finger simply can't be avoided. Lorenz does his best to move past this without acknowledgement, and you two enjoy your treat together as you take in the bustle of the town around you.

The day continues in kind, with Lorenz apparently having painstakingly arranged every element of this date from start to finish. At a local seller of antiques and luxury goods, he secures permission to view and explore rare and dazzling paintings from around the world. Here, he's rather uncharacteristically reserved. Wandering the storage area like your own personal art museum, he watches you with evident warmth as you exclaim at the rich and varied pigments, the innovative expressions of human form, and so on.

After this, he brings you to a tavern at the far end of town, where he's reserved the second floor exclusively for you two to enjoy a quiet, intimate meal together. By this point, you've finally gotten around to considering just how much gold must have gone into this singular date.

"Lorenz," you say cautiously, "are you sure it's okay to go through all of this and spend so much just for-"

He raises a hand to cut you off, then replies,

"I assure you that it is," he takes your hand in his, holding it warmly from across your private table, "wealth has no value that we ourselves do not assign to it, and I have chosen to spend it on your pleasure. I can think of no greater use for a bit of coin."

The rest of the early evening is filled with pleasant chat and the occasional subtle sweet-talk. As you discuss everything you've seen and experienced that day, Lorenz engages you with surprisingly astute comments and observations. He's always at his best when he feels permitted to simply talk with you, as one person to another, free of the pressures and expectations of his birthright that he shoulders without a thought.

The sun is steadily lowering behind the hills and walls of the surrounding town by the time you make your way back together. As you walk hand in hand watching the Monastery gates rise ahead of you, Lorenz clears his throat abruptly and says,

"If I may steal you away for just a little while longer, there was... actually someone I thought you'd like to meet."

"Oh? What an honor," you say with a smile, "Do I get any hints?"

Lorenz gives a good-natured chuckle and says,

"Only that I think you'll get along splendidly."

And of all places throughout Garreg Mach's grounds, you begin to recognize that he is leading you towards the stables. You've met Lorenz's horse before- a lovely mare with a calm and agreeable temperment. If not her, then...

"Eloise?" Lorenz calls out in a gentle voice, "Eloise, come say hello- Ellie? Come now, don't tell me you've chosen tonight to become bashful..." at his call, a svelte black cat with delicate little white paws comes trotting out to meet you. Your heart positively aches and melts at the sight of her eagerly approaching Lorenz with clear comfort and familiarity.

"Lorenz, you... have a cat?" You say with obvious disbelief.

"She's one of the Monastery's strays, to be clear," he says, "She helps with the mice in the stables. Evidently, she had become quite fond of my preferred horse- and so eventually became fond of me as well."

Fond seems an understatement- she very clearly adores him. With a chorus of happy little mews, she circles his legs and rubs against him until he crouches down to offer her his hand. As he does, a shred of parchment flutters from his pocket onto the ground. Eloise targets it like a seasoned warrior and pounces at it with gusto. With a laugh, you kneel down to retrieve whatever this paper she's captured might be.

"Now Eloise, none of that- you must behave genteel-like with guests."

As he firmly lectures the cat, you glance at the paper in your hand. Nearly every inch of it is covered in an elegant, curling script that you imagine must belong to Lorenz. It looks like a... list of some kind. As your eyes scan down the page, you begin to recognize a pattern. Your favorite flowers, favorite desserts, favorite types of books and places around town- plus, to the side, the word "cats?" underlined several times. For a moment, you simply cover your mouth to hold in a snort of laughter. Then, you come to kneel beside Lorenz as he's failing to convince his feline friend to stop swatting at his hair.

"So- you've been taking very thorough notes lately." you say, nudging his arm playfully. He turns to face you with an immediate look of panic. Lavender eyes widen and glance down to the parchment in your hand, then back to you. He visibly deflates and says,

"Goddess- you must find me such a fool-"

You press your lips firmly to his before he can say another word. With a soft noise of surprise, his eyes flutter shut and he leans into your kiss. His lips are wonderfully soft, and the subtle scent of his cologne surrounds your senses as you tilt your head to seal your lips to his more firmly. You're not certain how long you remain like this, but only the dull ache of kneeling on the dirt and the incessant sound of Eloise bapping her paw against the paper in your hand bring you back to your surroundings. When you part from him, you brush aside the silky curtain of his hair to run your hand along his face, and say,

"I had a wonderful time today, Lorenz- and it means the world to me that you put so much thought into this. But next time, you don't have to study so hard, okay?"

For a moment, he seems speechless. Then, he gives a shy chuckle.

"You have bested me yet again, it would seem. How can I ever hope to become a man worthy of you when you are ever more lovely with each passing day?"

Eloise gives an insistent chirp and rubs once more against his leg, evidently tired of distractions from the attention she feels she's owed. Your smile widens, and you scratch her ear fondly.

"I think there's at least two of us who like you just as you are, Lorenz."

#no one's gonna read this why is it so long #fe3h #feh #lorenz hellman gloucester #lorenz x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem fic #fluff #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem fluff

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ithebookhoarder · 3 years

Note

Could I get something for valentines day to do with the Shelby gang? I really don't mind what or who. I just feel like I need a little love for the day...

Valentines Day Head-Canons for the Shelby Family

A/N: Of course you can, anon! Hope you have a great day, whether you’re celebrating or not. It’s just a day, really, so I hope this cheers you up ;) Sending so much love x

Masterlist:

Arthur:

This man would be nervous as hell that he’d mess up valentines day with you. He’s not exactly known for being the romantic of the family, nor does he have the sophistication of his younger siblings. In fact, he’s sometimes surprised you’re even with him at all.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try, though. Oh no, this man is going all out for the day and nothing is too much for you. He’ll have asked everyone, and I mean everyone, for advice about what to do to make the day special.

He’s not a many of many words so he lets his actions do the talking for him, giving you a massive bouquet of flowers as he comes to collect you for the evening.

“Arthur, they’re beautiful. You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for me. I mean, you even got orchids - my favourites. How did you know?”

“I remember you told me before, eh? When we were at that place down in London. The one with the fancy window displays.”

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

But that’s Arthur. He’s utterly head over heels for you, which is probably why he turns bright red as you kiss him on the doorstep before hurrying back inside to put them in some water.

He’d also make sure to open every door for you the entire night, refusing to let you even lift so much as a finger.

In fact, he even pulls your chair out for you in the restaurant he’s taking you to, glaring at the waiter who was going to do it, in a clear sign to back away if he wants to escape with his life.

“Arthur. I saw that. Behave.”

“I’m on my best behaviour, love. Promise.”

“Oh really? What a shame, as I had kind of hoped you wouldn’t be, considering that I’m wearing your present underneath this dress.”

Arthur almost combusts there and then.

Screw dinner - he wants to devour you and only you. Maybe that’s why he practically drags you out of the door at the end of the night, making you laugh as you hurry after him, the two of you fumbling with each other like horny teenagers.

Needless to say, you spend the rest of the night wrapped in a tangle of limbs, lost in an haze of pleasure as you gift one another with your bodies.

John:

Now, considering his kids and the fact they are more than a handful, he knows just how important time spent with just the two of you is. That would be his first and biggest gift, getting one of the family to agree to watch the hell spawn long enough for you two to spend some time alone together.

It’s just you and him for 24 hours of uninterrupted bliss, with no crying children or screaming babies to think about.

True, it would be weird at first to have the house so quiet, but that’s exactly what you need for you and John to just talk to one another about anything and everything you’ve missed over the past few weeks. After all, he’d probably have been so busy with work he feels like he’s hardly seen you recently.

He’s also remarkably in-tune with you and knows exactly how to spoil you rotten.

“You do so much for me and the kids, it’s the least I can do, right? You deserve the world, but I guess I’ll have to do, eh?”

Who knew John Shelby was such a softie?

He’d have the day mapped out down to the finest detail: Breakfast in bed? check. A hot bath with wine and candles? Check. That new dress you had your eye on when you last went into town? Check. Making love for hours on every surface of the house? Triple check.

He knows how lucky he is to have you and would spend all day making sure you knew.

“At this rate, we’ll be having another little one to be bribe Polly to watch next year.”

“John Shelby! I swear to god I am not having another baby-“

“So you want me to put my clothes back on and not fuck you again?”

You wisely say nothing and kiss him instead.

“As I thought.”

Tommy:

Considering how busy he normally is, the only gift you could ever want from him was that of time. Time away from the stresses of the company or his family and their never ending messes.

It’s why you’re eager to subtly remind him about the date every chance you get in the weeks preceding it.

Little do you know, he’s perfectly aware of the day. In fact, he has plans of his own cooked up for the both of you… you just didn’t need to know that yet.

It makes the surprise all the more satisfying as he wakes you early the morning of, peppering you with kisses and encouraging you to get dressed.

“I thought people usually tried to get people undressed on Valentines day?”

“Patience, love. It’s worth it, I promise.”

You laugh and trust him, unable to deny him anything when he looks genuinely happy for once. That in itself is a gift, as is the chance to spend the day riding with him around the estate you called home.

Tommy is happiest on horse back, and you grin as you eye him clambering on his horse out front.

You’re quick to follow, not surprised to see he’d had your horse readied too. He really had thought this out, down to the route you take.

“This way, there are no phone calls or fucking distractions,” he explains, relieved at the utter delight in your eyes. “Not unless one of the staff want to grab a horse and come find us. Good luck to them.”

“They’d need it, especially if they’re stupid enough to risk me shooting them for disturbing us. They’d be idiots.”

Tommy laughs.

Eventually, he’d stop you both, just on the edge of the woods, revealing the next surprise as he pulls out a blanket and basket (prepared with Frances’s help, of course).

“A picnic, Tommy?”

“I told you it was a surprise.”

It’s the best surprise as you both sit there, drinking and laughing as the sky turns dark.

That’s when he lights a fire for you both, letting you huddle close by the flames, eyes gazing at the stars above you.

You listen to him telling you all about the constellations and the stories he learned as a child. The sound of his voice is heavenly and you could easily listen to him all night.

So much so, you’re quick to wish the night would never end, letting you two stay like this, wrapped peacefully in each other’s arms forever.

Finn:

This literal angel is sweet as hell. Like, you better be prepared for the hand made card he’ll have made you… with Polly’s help, of course. He isn’t a hundred percent sure his spelling would have been right otherwise, but for you he’s willing to make the effort to try and write it for you. After all, you’ve more than likely been trying to help him learn to read and write since you started seeing one another.

“Aunt Pol… is heart spelt with two t’s or one?”

“One, Finn.”

“And does angel have a j in it?”

“No, Finn.”

Everyone else thought it was adorable and proof that he truly does love you. They’ve never seen him work so hard on anything in his life.

Your own card is much simpler, because you wanted to make sure he could read it without too much difficulty. You also may or may not have got a bit carried away with drawing hearts and other sketches to fill it instead of trying to use long and complicated words about how much you loved him.

However, neither one of you seem to care. You’re too happy with the cards you receive to care about your own possible mistakes.

You’re also too busy admiring how much of an effort each of you made with your outfits for your date. Sure, it was just drinks and dancing with some of the other teenagers in Small Heath (basically Isiah and his girl) but you’d both gone full out for the occasion.

“Is that suit new?”

“Maybe… John helped me pick it out. Why? Does it look stupid?”

“No, Finn Shelby. You look incredibly handsome,” you beam, toying with his lapels before linking his hand with yours. “I’ll be the luckiest girl there tonight.”

“And I’ll be the luckiest man.”

Oh yeah, you two are reals saps, just as most young lovers are. You’re all nervous glances, laughs and touches as you two dance the night away.

It would also be the night Finn kisses you for the first night, summoning the courage to do it as he drops you off back at your house, just a little after curfew.

It’s worth the risk and as you kiss him back he swears he’s flying the rest of the way home.

Micheal:

Micheal has had his plans in place for weeks, making sure every little detail would be perfect for the two of you. He’s honestly looking forward to it, enough to welcome his mother’s advice as she throws suggestions and tips at him the week before.

“Women like to feel special, Micheal. What about getting her a necklace? Or some chocolates? Fancy ones from France or something.”

“Mum, thanks, but I’ve got it covered. Promise.”

“Are you sure?”

Micheal laughs and tries not to be offended at her obvious doubt. Then again, he’s not always had a track record of being the most romantic or thoughtful with women. Still, he really cares about you and he’s determined not to mess this up.

It’s why he’s chosen the perfect place for you two to spend the evening together: your place.

He’s determined to spend the time just the two of you, and what better way to impress you than cooking dinner for you?

With the bottle of champagne he brought and your favourite records playing in the background, you’re quickly at ease, grinning as you watch him effortlessly chop, dice and season the dish he’s chosen.

How is peeling a potato so sexy when he does it?

It’s honestly impressive, but also because he’s putting so much effort into it which is a nice surprise. As is the way he dances around the kitchen with you whenever there’s a pause in the recipe or a particularly good song comes on.

You’re surprised at his soft singing voice as he holds you, humming along. It’s rare he allows himself to be seen in such a way, relaxed with no one to judge him for being soft or a little off key. In front of the other Shelbys he’s normally desperate to impress them, trying to be tough and nonchalant.

However, you know deep down he’s still the country boy you fell in love with when he first arrived in the city.

By the time you’ve finished dinner, the candles have almost burned out and you know where the evening is headed as you both start to scurry off to your bedroom.

Ada:

Ada is probably the most relaxed of all the Shelby bunch when it comes to special occasions. This is Ada we’re talking about. She’s also probably the most sane of the bunch, so she knows how to act like a normal person.

She doesn’t need anything big or fancy as a gift or some elaborate plan to make her fall head over heels.

A day in the park, with Karl holding both your hands as you walk to the duck pond, is enough to make her look at you with utter adoration in her eyes. She loves how well you both get on, becoming a little family of you own.

It’s why it’s no surprise you all have dinner together, with Karl helping to serve you as your two favourite people spoil you rotten. You normally eat together most days, even if Karl doesn’t normally wear a suit or call you ‘madame’ every time he passes you something like a mini waiter.

Ada smirks at the sight, informing you it’s all Karl’s idea - as is the card he thrusts upon you.

“I made the card myself!”

“You did? Wow, Karl. Look how amazing it is. I love the glitter on the heart.”

“I knew you would. Mum didn’t think so but I won.”

The look Ada gives you makes you want to laugh until you cry as you clearly sense the frustration she must have suffered in the pursuit of Karl’s artistry. It also explains why you’ve been finding glitter everywhere all week.

“Well, I love it. Thank you - both.”

You press kisses to both of their cheeks, grinning as Ada purred something about giving you her card later once Karl’s in bed. You’re eager to return the favour, impatient to give her your own card and gift.

It’s a framed photo of you all, taken one day when you’d all been at the local fair.

The sight of it is enough to make Ada watery eyed as she gives you yours, watching as you unwrap it and gasp in delight.

The book is the next in a series you’d recently started and fallen in love with. However, you were pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be released yet.

“What can I say? Perks of having a librarian girlfriend with exclusive access to advanced copies we’re supposed to be holding on to until next month. I borrowed one and I’m sure they won’t notice.”

“Ada Shelby. You stole a book for me?”

“Borrowed. Not stole.”

You don’t care, too overwhelmed to do anything other than kiss her passionately.

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 3 years

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𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

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The next morning found all the townhouse residents asleep, Celaena decided to take her leave of her brother—how she marveled at the word—through a note, citing prior obligations that needed to be attended though he was welcome to visit her in the evening if his duties could spare him, which she left with the efficient butler, who assured her the message would be delivered. The ride back home was unexpectedly short considering the roads were teeming with entourages of families returning from their country estates for the London Season or ladies running off to modistes to have their wardrobes updated with the latest fashions before the invitations started rolling ko in.

Her relief at returning was great, though she purposefully hid from her parents—or her elder sister, Eleanor—attending diligently to her correspondence. It was a miracle the stack of letters thinned at all, considering how preoccupied her mind was. Two hours after the torment of trying to focus on her letters, Celaena gave it up in favour of returning Countess Lieven's visit from last week. There was a considerable difference in age, personality and social ranks between them but both enjoyed each other's conversation, and the russian ambassadress was excellent company. Celaena did not expect to find the woman alone—the countess' drawing rooms rarely ever were—but she did look forward to sensible conversation about politics and such and was thoroughly displeased to find that esteemed lady attempting to look interested in Lady Jersey's—another lady patroness of the Almack's and a social leader whose favourite pastime was gossip—rants about the latest love affairs of Lady Caroline Lamb, and Mrs Burnwell among other ladies, who though a sensible lady did not look much pleased with Celaena, though she could not tell if it was because of her rank or her public insult to the lady's beloved niece—Lady Perrington—at the dinner party the other day. Despite the former's thrice professed hatred for the topic, Lady Jersey lament about Caroline Lamb extensively and with all the knowledge of one well-informed of her activities. The other ladies listened keenly and with interest, and by the end of their visit, Celaena felt she knew Caroline's social life better than her own and the countess looked ready to pull her hair out.

"I cannot stand her hypocrisy," said Her Ladyship once they were alone, "condemning Caroline—as obnoxious as she is—for her 'love affairs' when her own mother-in-law is so infamous a mistress to the Prince of Wales. If she thinks it is different just because the Royal House of Hanover is involved—oh, I cannot countenance her. It is a pity she should be such a public figure that I cannot avoid her, or I should happily see the back of that one. Come, my dear," said she, noticing her friend smile behind her teacup, "you came looking for an enjoyable half hour and were instead subjected to gossip and derision. You cannot have anything to say in Lady Jersey's defence?" this said with a tone that indicated she did not know how anyone could have anything to say in Lady Jersey's defence.

"I cannot defend her, but I can understand why she thinks the situations are different—it's not because the prince regent is involved, but rather Caroline's utter lack of discretion. I could easily forgive her affairs if they caused harm to no one but herself, but alas, as it is, her husband's standing in society is affected by her behaviour." This was said in reference to Lady Heathcote's ball in July, 1813 where, after being publicly insulted by her—former?—lover, Lord Byron, she had slashed at her wrists with a broken wineglass and only her mother-in-law Lady Melbourne's prompt thinking and quick intervention had kept her from serious harm. When it became clear she had no suicidal tendencies, the whole affair attached such a ridiculous air to all the parties involved, it could not have been in anyone's favour.

"You would condone her actions if she were only being discreet?" asked Countess Lieven, surprised.

"Perhaps not condone, no," said she, "but I would not object to them. Really, she and her husband are both adults in a marriage that is less a marriage and more a business contract based on terms and conditions. If both decide between themselves that the other can look for love—or rather, a lover—outside their household, and if they can manage it discreetly, what is the harm in it? Viscount Melbourne admits himself he does not care for his wife, nor she for him. If they must remain in a marriage neither wants, I do not see the harm in looking for satisfaction outside with both spouses' consent."

"But you would not act in the same way in her place," accused she.

"If my marriage was more like hers?" she wondered aloud. "I would hope to reach an understanding with my husband we can both be happy with." Seeing her friend look unconvinced, she said, "Really, I strongly believe that if something makes you happy, you must ask yourself if it harms someone? If it does not, I would not hold myself back out of respect for society's ridiculous edicts; not at the expense of my happiness."

"Adultery would be a disrespect to one's marital vows."

"Oh, certainly," agreed she, "but are they not already disrespecting their marital vows by vowing to love each other? I would rather a husband and wife live by an arrangement that keeps both happy than be miserable trying to respect marriage vows they never truly meant."

Countess Lieven who herself was faithful to her husband—a rarity among the upper ten thousands, whose own marriage was arranged and who lived—if not happily, than in a content state of harmony with her husband, could have nothing more to say on this subject, so she steered the conversation away from it. "I suppose you are thinking of the Whitethorns when you mention that example? I admit I was surprised to hear from Mrs Burnwell earlier Mr Whitethorn appreciated your company so—oh, do not be offended, dear—it is only that I have never seen him appreciate anyone's company at all, though I say he has fine taste if he does indeed show you preference."

Celaena had been thinking of him in relation to the subject, but denied it. "I do not think their troubles can be solved simply by taking lovers." Celaena put her teacup down and leaned forward, more to stop drinking the overly sweet concoction than to show interest in the subject. "I had the impression those two do not get on because she is not suited to the duties his rank and station entails and he is not equipped with enough knowledge or patience to know how to guide her in it. They are bound by constraints of society in a marriage that makes both miserable."

Countess Lieven looked at her speculatively before the subject was dropped.

A perverse curiosity drove her to mention meeting Mr Galathynius and Lord Fenrys, which had the happy effect of inducing the countess to volunteer information about that family.

"The House of Galathynius," said she, "has been suffering from a lack of inactivity. Lord Rhoe lost a child some years ago and has not been the same since. His father abdicated his title after a severe bout of influenza in their county, but he soon recovered. The damage was done; Rhoe, the poor man was not prepared for the title and his estates and position suffered for it; now his sons take care of the properties while he pursues politics. The grandfather constantly battles them for power but he does not have half the influence as Viscount Layton—that is the elder brother, hardly social at all, so solemn and reserved but he is a responsible man. Far better than the rakes and dandies of town spending their days in the club, neck deep in debts of honor."

"Viscount Layton? I have not heard much of him at all, aside from his fondness for the written word."

"So you would not, for Galathynius is a name that does not appear in the tabloids often. The younger son does not have the trademark grave countenance of his forefathers—he inherited the ashryver charm from his mother and the elder is so antisocial, he hides himself in the country. For two boys who lost their sister and mother at an early age and were brought up by an uninterested father, they grew up to be fine indeed."

"The Countess of Narrowcreek, yes. Mrs Burnwell told me she was a fine lady."

"Lady Helen was, not pretty but so well-mannered and polite! She died of fever an year after her daughter, though some say it was the heartbreak that killed her."

"They are a big family, are they not? You said something about the ashryvers? I met one of them."

"Yes, the cousins," said she, "fine young men, all either determined bachelors or trapped in poor marriages. The ashryvers don't have their Galathynius cousins' impeccable reputations but the natural ashryver charm easily accounts for that." The Countess smiled knowingly and she shifted in her seat at the silent implication that she was interested in one of them—god forbid—and not wanting to further this idea, Celaena was obliged to put an end to this line of inquiry and introduced a generally neutral topic of conversation. Though Celaena was far too aware of the speculative look on the countess' face everytime she looked at her, the visit ended pleasantly on both sides, with one party anxious and the other intrigued with the subjects of conversation introduced.

That afternoon, Celaena was admitted into Lysandra's modest apartments by a housemaid who bade her to wait in the drawing room. Impatient to her own detriment, she thought nothing of barging into her friends' room and was wholly unprepared for the sight she was met with.

"Oh, no," said she, stupidly, "I-I came to talk, I didn't know—Captain Ashryver, I-I-oh."

Celaena flushed, prompting the colonel to fish for his clothes while he clutched the bedsheet in an attempt to cover his lower-half. The poor man looked ready to fling himself off the nearest cliff, which soothed her mortification somewhat. Like all englishwomen of respectable birth, Celaena had a suppressed but prurient curiosity that was only encouraged by the books available in her father's well-stocked library. Her odd fascination with the ladies of the demi-monde had been one of the initial reasons she extended an acquaintanceship with the courtesan who was now her dearest friend, though she soon learned to love the lady for her own merits. However, all education in that area did not prepare her for exposure to such a sight. She colored, gaped, stammered an incoherent excuse about needing air and fled the room. Her distress increased when Captain Ashryver stepped out of the room first, properly dressed to the boot.

He bowed formally, which seemed absurd given what had passed before.

"Captain Ashryver."

He flushed. "Miss Sardothein. It is—it is actually Colonel Ashryver now."

Celaena murmured vague congratulations, studiously avoiding his eyes. "I thought you were still with the army, sir, in Brussels—I am surprised to find you here. Do you know yet how long you will stay with us?"

"Six months," said he, looking away.

"Aedion," called she, startling him with her address of his given name, "I hope you know you are as dear to me as a brother. If there is anything you wish to talk about, I would happily listen to you."

Hesitation warred with trust in his eyes, and he looked cautiously towards the bedroom.

"I will not betray your confidence to anyone," she assured him firmly.

Aedion looked at his hands, blonde strands of hair falling in front of his eyes. "I was offered a posting here in London and—and I am not sure if I can accept it."

"It must be hard," she observed, "to give up a career you spent half your life pursuing."

"It is, and yet, it is not the only reason. I didn't choose to go to the army—I—when my grandfather found out about my inclinations," this word was spat out with enough venom that she knew what he thought about the man, "he sent me there and I accepted it as my lot, as if I were a second son. I don't know if father knows why I insisted on joining the army but, gods, I did belong there, with my men—there were some others from aristocratic families like mine who hoped any unusual proclivities would be beaten out of us there. It was just part of a job—killing people was not a good thing or a bad thing—it just was. But I was at Hougomont, Celaena," this being one of the chateaus in the village of Waterloo, "and by God, I never saw so much death as I saw there, so many friends dead, their wives widowed, their—their children orphans. I did not—if I have to see a war half so drastic as that again, I do not think I will survive it."

Celaena reached for his hand, frowning. "Then why hesitate?"

"I did not go there by choice; he—my grandfather, that is—forced me into it and he will not be pleased if I am against him. If he decides to cut off my allowance, on a colonel's payroll alone, I will not have nearly enough to pay off Lysandra's debts."

"I can help with that—"

"No." His voice was soft, but firm.

"Aedion, don't be foolish. You haven't much choice. You said yourself you could not survive another war and I could—"

"I said no."

"Pride goeth before a fall, colonel."

"Pride!" exclaimed he, looking resentful at the implication. "It is hardly that. You know what Arobynn did the last time you tried to pay off those debts—and whatever you can spare from your allowance, you need to save for your own future. Lysandra is not the only one bound to a monster by law."

She did know, but because she felt like being difficult, Celaena scoffed. "Say what you mean, sir. You do not wish to have help from a woman. If it had been a male friend offering instead, you would have jumped to accept—"

He threw his hands up. "You are putting words in my mouth."

"I am saying what you are too proud to admit out loud."

Aedion did not take the bait, replying calmly that he would not save one of his ladies from the Hamel's fire only to throw the other in it. Celaena could find nothing snappish to say to that, but having gotten over her own embarassment, she was determined to be difficult. "This is all well and good," said she, "but I hope the next time you will lock your door."

"The maid knew to leave you here," argued he. "If you had followed the instructions—"

"Instructions!" cried she. "This is not an army camp, colonel, and I am not a fellow soldier under your authority."

"I say, a good thing you are not. You have not the discipline for a soldier's life."

"If all your men are as disagreeable as you, I am happy to have missed the chance." Clamping down on the very inappropriate desire to stomp her foot on the ground, she turned her face away. "At least I am well-mannered enough to not lay blame on others for my own faults."

"Fine manners you have indeed, walking into someone's bedroom unannounced."

"The door was open," argued she, weakly.

"The latch broke last night," he flushed and she decided she did not wish to know how. Celaena felt a pair of accusing eyes fixed on her. "But the incident was a fitting punishment for you—I hope you will think twice before doing that again."

To no one's surprise, they retreated into a calm silence while their tempers cooled off. Both were impulsive and hot-headed, too similar to never fight and too prideful to give in, and they had surprised everyone—including themselves—by striking up a lasting friendship that had suffered through time and distance. Propriety dictated an unmarried woman could not write to a bachelor, so she had her father address it for her; society said they would be ruined if they were found together without a chaperone, so they started meeting in each other's homes, where they could not be found at all; decorum demanded they speak not a word of love untill the gentleman offered marriage—and that the lady should not at all say anything but a polite yes, so they talked of everything but marriage. Their showdowns with each other were frequent something to watch—and friend was not at all an ideal title to assign to an eligible gentleman; it raised many an eyebrow at balls and dinner parties where the Colonel was so attentive to her, and all felt certain a marriage proposal was not far away. Speaking materially, it would be a splendid match—with his rank as the penniless second son of an earl—and her, an accomplished society woman with an inheritance big enough for all to overcome the worst of their prejudices about trade. It would have been a splendid match; if he wasn't taken and if she was more amicable to the idea of marriage, that is. Celaena thought guiltily of all he had done for her, fending off suitors determinedly like a dutiful elder brother all the while pretending to be one, and she wondered shortly what he would say if he knew who she was. Did he know her brothers, or Lord Fenrys perhaps? He would be sceptical at first, she knew, and then he would be pleased she was close to being free of Arobynn's shadow. Celaena looked up to do something—to tell him perhaps or to apologise? But there, he had his eyes fixed on her already—his eyes, thought she, were turquoise blue ringed with gold. Oh.

Celaena rose from her seat, saying unsteadily, "Forgive me, but I just remembered I have an appointment at my modiste."

"I can drop you—"

"No, no," she was already out of her seat, donning her cloak, "I came in my carriage. Pray, tell Lysandra I will return tomorrow."

The carriage ride back home was so short, she hardly felt it. Celaena had not much time to ruminate on her present realisation, but she felt stupid at her distress a few minutes ago. Her new family—a reality which had seemed like such a surety this morning—was now shrouded in doubts. Aedion had not recognised her as his cousin for years, and if he who was practically her mirror image by all accounts, did not, no one else could be expected to believe her claim by one look at her face. But what other proof had she? It was with near trepidation that she entered her house, and was happily recieved by her brother who had been waiting in her parlor for a half hour.

"I thought," said he, "I should personally come to you with an invitation to a dinner party tonight at my home—our home, rather. I should like to reintroduce you to relations who are already in town—they have all been waiting so long, Aelin, if you like? You are acquainted with most of them already, and I know father wishes to apologise."

"He does? I hope he is feeling better after that—that attack." Celaena thought ashamedly how little consideration she had given him except to worry the others might follow his lead, believing her to be a fortune huntress.

"He is," assured James, "He refused to believe me when I told him—and then to see you, looking so much like mama, he was overset. But he is fine now, and very remorseful, dearest. I hope you will not hold that first impression against him for long—we had all quite lost hope, and it seems fragile still, like I would look away from you for a moment and you would disappear into the mist, he was being cautious."

"I will try my best," she promised in an attempt to appease.

Celaena knew she was blessed with a handful of attractive features that compensated for the majority of average ones; and, by early adolescence, she had discovered that with the help of cosmetics, these average features could easily match the extraordinary assets. Vanity she had always acknowledged freely to be her chief sin after pride, and she felt her nerves ease at the familiar ritual of having herself pushed into a pretty dress, her hair tugged and pulled before an event. By the time she was dressed in a fine evening gown of soft pink muslin, golden curls pinned atop her head with diamond pins gifted by her brother—a family heirloom, apparently—she was almost beaming on her brother's arm. In the carriage, she distracted herself by asking him questions about his involvement in the House of Lords, their father's health and had the immense pleasure of hearing him talk about meating Madame d'arbley who wrote Cecilia, which had been her favourite novel since she first read it. The talk soon turned to the night's guests and she inquired after their identity.

"You already know Fenrys and the younger Mr Whitethorn; Fenrys' parents will be there, as will our father and Rowan's parents, his elder brother is out of town and his younger sister, Mrs Parkinson and her husband could not attend, and the little Whitethorn boys will come too; though their mother holds the traditional belief that children should eat in the nursery until they are fifteen, so I do not know if they will be present at dinner."

"Rowan—that is Mr Whitethorn's given name, yes? I met his children before," said she, "in the park yesterday. They were sweet, well-mannered boys."

Her brother allowed it to be so, regaling her with anecdotes of their youth and Celaena felt she had never spent a half hour half as entertained before.

"Really, Rhoe," said Lady Meave, rising from her seat, "you are being absurd. I would think thirteen years of grief would make you accept it, but you are starting to grow more deranged with time."

The family members had all arrived a half hour ago when Rhoe explained the purpose of the meeting. James believed that the family would be informed of the situation before meeting Aelin so the element of surprise would not bring out ill-mannered reactions and accusations like this one and Rhoe had agreed to do it himself as the head of the household, though whether he did out of obligation or out of a desire to redeem himself in Aelin's eyes, Fenrys could not tell. Their cousins had more or less recieved the news with good grace, curious but tentatively delighted. The Whitethorns were curious, though Lady Mora expressed her delight at the news repeatedly and tearfully. Lord Jared was more reserved in his congratulations—a reserved disposition was a Whitethorn trait—as was his son, Rowan, who seemed more curious than anything else. His wife made incoherent noises about how nice it must be to be surrounded by all of one's relations, which made her husband stiffen. It was public knowledge Mr Whitethorn's relationship with his mother-in-law was contentious. She was a widow who lived in her father the earl's home, infamous for her very public affairs with Lord Shuttleton and the Marquess of Mowry, and did not have much regard for propriety or morals. The Earl had recently sent her back to live with her relations in Scarborough, prompting Mrs Whitethorn to insist her mother be invited to stay indefinitely in her home instead, an idea which Mr Whitethorn did not approve of. This served to increase the tension between the mismatched couple, and that Mrs Whitethorn seemed wholly unaware of it only served to aggravate her husband more. Fenrys was saved from replying when Lady Meave having finally processed the news, loudly and fervently denied it.

Rhoe did not look at all perturbed. He said, "We thought Aelin died, because we found a girl's dead body—which was unrecognizable—and an anklet near it. I am now ashamed I did not once consider it might not be her, for if I had, perhaps she would have been with us—but I do intend to make up for the lost years, cousin. I believe the anklet we procured was either circumstancial evidence or a delibrate cover-up. I have hired private investigators to look into the matters, though we have not much hope, but as it stands, I believe—no, I know—Aelin is alive and will be joining us all for dinner. Oh no," he added quickly, holding up a hand to forestall their aunt's objections, "This is not a discussion where Your Ladyship can pitch in her own two cents. If you are not prepared to acknowledge Aelin, you may see yourself out."

"You are putting a lot of faith in a fortune-hunter."

"Really, my lady," interrupted Fenrys, bemusedly, "I have met the lady on three occassions before; I can assure you she looked like an ashryver—"

"That proves nothing!" cried she, acerbically. "How do we know she is not one of your father's by-blows, hoping to extract a fortune? You are the one who put this whole idea in James' head—so perhaps, perhaps you are in cahoots with her."

"Sister!" exclaimed Mora, wide-eyed at the acid spewing from her mouth.

Poor woman—bless her gentle heart—looked scandalized her sister would even think those accusations, let alone voice them out loud. Rowan patted his mother's arm, looking pained while his father turned all sorts of blue and red. Lord Jared was offended on the behalf of his dearest friend—Fenrys' father, the Earl of Bedford. To Fenrys, the idea that his noble, stuck-up, proper and prudish father would have a mistress—let alone a bastard child—was laughable.

"Hold your tongue there, Meave," chided Lord Jared disapprovingly. "This childish petulance does not become you."

"You believe him?" Seeing none of them deny the accusation, she said, "If you are determined to fool yourself, please do. I will have no part in the downfall of this family." And so saying, she turned on her heel and left.

"If anyone else has grievances with this new discovery," said Rhoe, "they may join Meave in her self-inflicted banishment from my homes."

"Oh, Rhoe," said Lady Mora, defending her sister. "I hope you will forgive her. The news was very much surprising, and I think she was much surprised. I am sure she was only being cautious to save you from one she thought was a fortune hunter. We are all very happy little Aelin is back." Fenrys thought he would not assign so pure a motive to his other aunt's outburst but Mora was a compassionate soul, incapable to think meanly of others so he let the statement go unchallenged. Before the silence could turn awkward, he heard Colonel Ashryver say dryly, "Well, at least when Aelin comes, we can assure her there is no lack of entertainment here."

"If I recall, she was rather fond of drama as a child," agreed he.

"No, no, that was Fenrys," said a voice in the doorway. "Aelin just liked to follow him in whatever he did." James looked affectionately at his sister, escorting her inside.

Aelin smiled at Fenrys who kissed her cheek. "Welcome home, Aelin."

"It's Lady Aelin now, sir."

Two different voices called 'Miss Sardothein?!' though no one paid them much attention as Lord Rhoe stepped forward tentatively in front of his daughter.

"Aelin," he said.

Fenrys tried instead to look at Rowan and Aedion, both of whom were gaping inelegantly but failed, eyes repeatedly snapping back to Aelin who was watching the old man warily. She returned his bow with a curtsy, then rose on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Father."

Lord Rhoe said tearfully, "Oh, Aelin."

"It is all forgiven," said she quietly, in response, "I was surprised too."

He was almost disappointed when Aedion interrupted the father-daughter reunion. "You," said he accusingly, turning to the lady of the hour, "You knew the truth this morning?"

"Yes."

"You didn't tell me."

"With all the commotion of the morning—which by the by was your fault—I did not realize," said Aelin. "And when I did, I was too surprised to do anything more than flee."

"Wait," said James, suspiciously. "This morning? I thought you were to attend your business affairs this morning, Aelin."

Aedion's face flushed, matching Aelin's in it's hue. "Yes, well," she said, "I had, uh, some calls to return."

"You called on Aedion?" asked Fenrys, surprised.

It was terribly improper for a gentlewoman to call alone on a bachelor, but with her formerly a tradesman's daughter, Aelin did not bother to stick with the more ridiculous edicts of society; she would not have accepted their dinner invitation if she had. Besides as far as he was concerned, Aelin could grow two heads, murder someone or dye her hair lavender and he would still consider her perfect. Fenrys did not know about the others but he had missed the little spitfire terribly; pranks were not nearly enough fun without her trying to stifle her giggles by his side.

"I did not call on him; rather, on a friend he too was calling on," she defended herself. Her face was red.

James narrowed his eyes, looking between them. "You are courting each other!"

"Heavens no!" said Aedion. "Believe me, you have nothing to fear on that account." At the look of mock-offense on her face, he smirked. "You are not half as pretty as you think you are, Cel—Aelin."

"Did I permit you to address me so informally?" she asked primly. "Considering I look almost the same as you do, my appearance is not something you should be disparaging, colonel."

Rhoe huffed in amusement, "Yes, well, come along, children, there are others waiting to be introduced."

And so they did, though Fenrys could tell James was not yet convinced there was nothing between the two. Lady Mora was every bit as pleased as she had claimed, greeting her cousins' daughter with pure delight. Lord Jared was more formal, though not at all unkind. Mrs Whitethorn had a distracted air towards her, though she did smile pleasantly and Fenrys could detect no animosity in her. It was Mr Whitethorn—Rowan—whose reaction surprised him the most. He looked—pained, almost—which did not quite make sense, though perhaps that was just his discomfort with strangers shining through. The civilities were only just exchanged when the butler announced dinner was ready and the whole party proceeded inside in an informal order, Rhoe ditching the normal propriety edicts in favour of leading his daughter into dinner. He seated her at the opposite end of the long, mahogany table as himself, in the seat reserved for the mistress of the house.

Aelin's answering smile was a lot more genuine than before.

Dinner passed almost pleasantly, the seven course meal enough to sustain the conversation for some time and if the silence ever stretched, it did not stay long. With fine conversationalists like Fenrys and James at the same table, and with Aelin's lively manners the atmosphere was merry enough to overcome even the infamous Whitethorn reserve, Lord Jared expounding passionately on the fine horses in his stables on such occassions when provoked. Mr Whitethorn talked animatedly of books—but only with Aelin and only when she delibrately directed her statements to him—and even Mrs Whitethorn ventured a few shy remarks here and there. They were in the best of spirits when in the middle of the dinner by the end when the men stood up to retire to the study for port—a traditional seperation of sexes following dinner—when the door opened. The poor butler hastily entered the room behind the new addition, struggling to keep up with the man's but determined to follow the protocol, announcing to the room between pants, Viscount Preston, Lord Edward Galathynius of Graceview.

Celaena's fork clattered on the floor; her eyes were fixed on the dark-haired man, curls just barely pushed away from his face. A light pink tinted his cheeks and the tip of his nose—a result of the biting wind outside—and dust clung to the lapels of his overcoat, white cravat almost coming apart. Edward's eyes so identical to her own were entirely cold; he bowed formally to the dinner guests and she had the impression he had stormed inside unaware of them. He did not see me, she thought, embarassed as he was at having the attention directed at him. Edward's eyes went over the crowd in a quick movement and he murmured polite greetings—until they caught on her and her heart thumped wildly inside her chest. Edward's noble mein was intimidating and his features arranged neutrally and she worried the boy whose memory she had clung to for years was but an illusion until he whispered her name 'Aelin' with a quite awe and muted wonder; for the first time, it felt like hers. Then he choked on a sob; Aelin was running at him and he had his arm around her, a movement so natural like he had been doing it all his life.

Aelin buried her face in her brother's neck, trying to commit his scent to memory.

"Shh," said he, lovingly, caressing her cheek with one hand, "Please don't cry, dearest."

"You smell like horses," said Aelin, tearfully. "It's making my eyes water."

Edward threw his head back and laughed, a sound rare enough, she could feel her cousins' surprise from behind them. He sighed quietly, a small, contented noise that made her smile. "I missed you, Aelin, though I know I have no right to say that. Had I done something differently—"

"Ridiculous man," said Aelin, tenderly wiping the tears from his cheeks. "James told me you were not four and ten; what could you have done? I have long since learned not to regret what has passed and make the best of my lot. I had a good life, brother," she told him, squeezing his hands, "if not a perfect one. I—I was brought up with an education no lady recieves. It suits my disposition perfectly and you may call me selfish but I am happy I had that chance—though I wish we had more time together."

Edward smiled softly, "We have all the time in the world now."

"Perhaps not all the time," she teased with an imp-like grin, seeing the whole table's attention fixed on them, "After all, you are in dire need of a bath and if I am forced into your vicinity for another half hour, I shall faint from the horror of it." Edward too stiffened, and she realised the extent of his shyness. "Refresh yourselves, sir," ordered Aelin, in her best haughty tone, and had the desired effect of making him laugh, "and when you are ready, you may call for me. I will bring a dinner tray to you and we may talk all we like."

Edward bowed gallantly. "I am but your loyal servant, madam." He kissed her cheek and she detected in him a hesitation to leave.

"I will not go anywhere," assured Aelin, smilingly, "I promise I will not."

Edward formally took his leave of the dinner party and retired to his rooms. Aelin collected herself, joining the ladies with an enthusiasm she did not feel.

No one commented on the happy tears that flowed from her cheeks.

tags: @thesirenwashere // @courtofjurdan //@little-crow-corvere // @the-dark-swan // @queenofgreenbriar // @clockworkgraystairs // @julemmaes // @rowaelinforeverworld // @mymultiversee // @queen-of-glass // @strangely-constructed-soul // @mijaldraws // @http-itsrebecca // @aesthetics-11 // @lord-douglas-the-third // @flowersinvegas // @towhateverend17 // @aelinchocolatelover // @justabunchoffandoms // @cool-ish-nerd // @faerie-queen-fireheart // @sad-book-whore // @didsomeonesayviolin // @atozfantazyxx // @hizqueen4life // @the-gods-killer // @booknerdproblems // @annejulianneh111 // @firestarsandseneschals // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @moondancer-204 // @thesurielships // @witchling-leonor // @ladywitchling // @amren-courtofdreams // @ifinallygavein // @jlinez // @faequeenaelin // @df3ndyr // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @bitchy-knees // @superspiritfestival // @xx-fiona-xx // @stardelia // @maastrash // @miihlovesnoone // @totenhamboys20 // @sanakapoor

#throne of glass #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #tog fanfiction #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #sarah j maas

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liibrii · 3 years

Text

Kita Shinsuke x gn!Reader

Synopsis: Hitchhiking through the countryside you catch a ride from a handsome stranger, which just might turn out to be the greatest decision of your life – or your greatest mistake.

wc: 2k || thriller-ish, mystery-ish

a/n: heavily inspired by one of my all time favourite songs; The Count of Tuscany. tbh this fic was just an excuse for me to listen to it on repeat for several hours :P as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

In the bathroom of the roadside gas station you change into your best clothes and brush through the tangles in your hair, wash your face, scrub your hands to make sure there's no dirt beneath your nails. No one in their right mind would pick up a scruffy looking hitchhiker.

You decide to stand outside where everyone who drives in to fill their gas tanks will notice you. On a small chalkboard you bought for a few hundred yen in a convenience store you write the name of your destination with the prettiest writing you manage and even add a smiley face. That should do the trick of gaining attention.

You've almost reached your destination already. The western sea of Japan. Being born on the eastern coast you have watched the sun rise above the ocean your entire life. At least once in your life you want to see it sink in the vastness of the sea hugging your homeland.

Would a train or a bus bring you to your destination faster? They would, sadly your wallet disagreed with that option. Hitchhiking really was the best option even if you often waited for hours with no luck. Still it wasn't all bad; one time an elderly lady stoped to give you a lift. You sat in the back as the front sit was occupied by her dog who excitedly turned to sniffle and lick your face, begging for scratches. She made you stay for dinner and even prepared a futon for you to sleep. “All my children and grandchildren moved to the big cities.“ She scratched behind the ears of her dozing four legged companion as you drank tea while sun slowly set behind the hilltops. “Slowly but surely we are bein' left behind. Seein' someone so young come 'round makes these old bones incredibly happy.“

Following morning she wished you good luck on your journey. Her name and address are written in your dairy. When new year comes in a few months you mustn't forget to send her a gift. You watched her stroll away, one slow step after another, dog trailing behind, her back bent under the weight of years. Is that what the future holds for you?

You try to keep a positive outlook, at least you get to see the beauty of the countryside. The green hills and vast fields of rice swaying in the wind are a sight that takes your breath away. Summer's coming to an end. It will soon be harvest season.

Your legs are starting to hurt. Hours have passed and nobody pays you even a second glance. Under the hat your hair sticks to your skin, droplets of sweat trickle down your back. You're all but ready to give up and start looking for a place to stay the night when a man about your age approaches.

He has caught your eye before. Something about his overalls and silvery hair glimmering in the sun made him stand out from the others. He kept glancing over at you while filling his tank.

“I'm not goin' as far as ya want,“ his eyes glance over the chalkboard you're holding. “But if ya want I can give ya a ride to the next town over.“

You eagerly nod. “That would be great!“ You offer him a hand. “You can call me y/n!“

His hand is calloused. Hand of someone working outside. “Kita.“

Ride is comfortable. Kita is more on the quiet side but once you mention how pretty the landscape looks with all the swaying fields he laughs . It's a bright sound that makes your heart skip a beat. He tells you he works the fields, not all you see, but many of them. Talking to him quickly becomes easy. To your surprise you find you have a lot in common. When you arrive to the town and he stops by a small inn offering rooms you're almost reluctant to leave his company. He hesitates when taking your backpack from the back seats. “I know we just met,“ he softly says, “but could I take you out for dinner? Maybe tonight?“

How could you possibly say no? You've been travelling on your own for the past two weeks and the loneliness is starting to get to you. And he's cute.

When he picks you up a few hours later he's wearing a nice button down. He combed his hair though you preferred it when it was all messy. “I'm not late am I?“

“No, I'm just a bit early.“

“Here,“ he shyly averts his eyes when he hands you a small bouquet of spider lilies that have yet to open in full bloom.

Your cheeks flush. It has been a long time since anyone gifted you flowers. “Thank you,“ you say, sincerely.

Kita takes you to a small family owned restaurant down the street. He opens the door for you and pours you tea while you skim through the menu. Talking to him is so easy. He mentions he used to play volleyball back in high school, that many of his old teammates went on to play professionally. Embarrassed you have to tell him you know very little about volleyball. As you speak his eyes linger on your face. Sports have never been your strong suit, you admit.

“Don't feel bad over it,“ he reassuringly smiles. “So how come yer travellin' these parts?“

Your dream of seeing the sunset over the sea seems so simple when you tell him but Kita nods. There's wisdom in his eyes you don't usually see in your peers. Why are you so relieved he doesn't find your dream childish? “I just want to see the country, get to know the land and the history,“ you eagerly continue.

“There's an old castle ruin not far from the town. Tourists often visit it. If ya want I can show ya 'round,“ he offers.

A trip to ruins does sound nice. Even a little bit romantic. One more day staying around couldn't hurt, right?

Kita's smile widens when you agree. “I'll pick ya up tomorrow. Would around midday be alright?“

For the rest of the night you're all giddy on the inside. You can't wait for tomorrow to arrive. Kita walks you back to the inn and waits till you're inside before heading his own way. What a gentleman, you think to yourself. Meeting someone like him was the last thing you expected.

Whatever road lead to the castle in its days of glory has long since been claimed by the nature. Kita walks with steps of someone who has walked this path a thousand times before. You trail behind him, your clothes getting caught in branches all the time. When he sees you struggling he slows down and even offers to carry your small backpack for you.

“This castle used to be really important back in the days,“ he explains while you catch your breath. “It's strategic position is really important. There's a legend my grannie used to tell me. Durin' the Sengoku period the youngest son of a shogun fortified himself in this castle and defended it for months. Then his enemies dug tunnels beneath.“ He offers you a hand to help you climb over a pile of rubble marking what once were the castle walls. “Filled them with wood soaked in fat and set it aflame. Castle crumbled and buried hundreds of soldiers beneath it. Some say the son of the shogun still haunts this place.“

“An interesting story,“ you say, ignoring how every hair on your body stands up.

By the time you reach the ruins you're drenched in sweat and yet once the view of the valley beneath opens up you forget all about the fatigue. You step closer to the ledge and peek over it. The side of the hill plunges straight down. Deep below you see tree tops. If you slipped -

A hand grabs your shoulder. “Careful. The stones 'round here often crumble.“

You murmur an apology. Kita's hand lingers on yours, his eyes following when you walk away to have a closer look at the ruins. They're covered with grass and small trees sprouting from the crack between stones. Funny, you can't see any tables with information about this place. Having a map would surely help with orientation. You can't be the only tourist with a knack of getting lost.

Kita approaches you with a smile. “Wanna see somethin' really cool?“

You follow him inside the ruins. “Watch yer step,“ he holds the branches of a lonely tree so they don't smack you as you walk by, “it's easy to trip 'round here.“

Walls here are better preserved, higher. The shadows they cast seem longer. You follow Kita inside the labyrinth of crumbled stone. An uneasy feeling of being watched grows inside you as your approach scares off a flock of birds.

Kita pushes away a curtain of poison ivy to reveal a gaping hole where the walls lean on the cliff towering above. Cold gust of wind makes you shudder. “Here,“ Kita offers you a torchlight. Your hands are cold. Fingers barely capable of wrapping around the black plastic.

He turns to you, his eyes carefully examining your face before he enters. “Ya comin'? Be careful where ya step, the stairs are slippery.“ He offers you his hand. It's warm.

“There's a natural cave beneath the castle.“ His calm voice echoes through the winding staircase. “Apparently it used to have a small pool for the nobles to cool in durin' summer. It's filled with rubble now.“

Light of the torches casts eerie shadows on the walls. Stone surface under your fingers is cold and damp. You follow Kita through a narrow hallway and soon enough you reach a small cave. It probably used to be bigger but a part of the ceiling caved in.

Rubble crunches under the soles of your shoes. In the eerie silence all you hear is your breathing and unsteady thumping in your chest. Somewhere in the distance perhaps a ghost of a long deceased soldier- you curse yourself in your head. Why are you trying to scare yourself?

You look up to see stalactites growing from the ceiling. How many thousands of years old must they be?

“They only grow about a millimetre per year. Must be tens of thousands of years old.“ Kita's voice makes you jump. How did he know exactly what you were thinking?

Only now you notice he's standing between you and the exit to the hallway. His eyes are fixed on you. He's closing off the only exit. Pounding in your chest quickens. This place is starting to suffocate you.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

You really did follow a complete stranger into a cave beneath an abandoned castle. What an idiot. Naive, trusting idiot.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

Slowly, like water dripping from the ceiling it sinks in you may not make it out of here.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

Ah, don't be stupid! You still have years to live! A boring office job to take on! When was the last time you spoke to your friends?

Kita's eyes never leave yours as he steps closer. In the dim light it all seems so- Kita wouldn't- But you don't know him, do you? Torch rolls from your shaking fingers.

Is this really how it ends? Hidden from the sunlight, caught like a mouse in a trap of stone and cold cutting to your bones? You can't breathe. Will they ever find you? Tears well up in your eyes. Why? What have you done to deserve this?

You're shaking. Will you ever see the sunset over the vastness of the sea? Will you lay beside the unfortunate soldiers from centuries ago till you become only clean, nameless bones?

A shaky plea for your life is all you manage to stammer. Through the tears his face is just muddled colours. Is this really how you die?

Warm touch of his hands cupping your face, thumbs wiping away tears, his soft, gentle voice, paralyse you. “Hey, why are ya cryin'?“

#kita shinsuke #kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita imagine #kita #hqcorenet #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x y/n #hq #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #libri scribbles #before spider lilies bloom

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awilddreamermain · 3 years

Note

Hi, Chels! Congratulations!! I'm so happy for you! You deserve every follower and more! That is a threat, I'm holding everyone hostage 🔪

I would love to get a MHA matchup, I wanna see who you'd match me with! Got me so curious! SFW & NSFW if you'd be willing!

My name is Chloe but I prefer May, nicknames include May-May, Maybell or Chlo.

I'm 25, pronouns are she/he, Cancer Moon, Aries Sun and Virgo Rising. Quite the weird mash of zodiacs, huh?

My favorite colors are pink (that soft pastel kinda baby pink), red (especially blood/garnet red) and...can I add pink again? Any shade of pink this time. Bubblegum or hot pink.

Favorite AU's include A/B/O, Mafia, Historical, Fantasy and does Mythical Creatures count?

Oh...oh boy, I gotta look deep for some fun facts that aren't just...facts but I'll do my best!

1) My sneezes are so short and high pitched I go "chu".

2) I have vitiligo, makes me look like a dog because it's mostly around my mouth and my right eye so I have a spot!

3) I have atrocious balance, my knees and shins are always banged up because I cannot for the life of me walk correctly.

4) I have a stutter, on top of speaking so quickly it turns into a jumbled mess. So good luck understanding what I said because I have no idea either.

5) I have a growing unicorn plush collection. My favorite is Cupcake, one that's actually taller than I am. Big chunk.

My likes are pretty simple. Cute & soft sweaters, blankets, warm coffee and strawberry milk, pastries and the cold! Winter is my favorite season. History, particularly the Medieval and Victorian times.

My interests revolve around creativity and you could say they're my hobbies as well. Drawing in particular, I used to do digital but I'm stuck with traditional pencil and paper at the moment. I'm dipping my toes into painting and its very fun! Obviously writing and reading and if I'm not doing of those listed then I'm definitely playing video games.

Personality I might say I'm quite split down the middle. At first, to a complete stranger I might come across as cold, stoic, with a resting bitch face, that just wants to get whatever I'm outside for done so I can leave. I'd create a witty or sarcastic comeback if I was given sass by a Karen but with my speech issues? I'd be lucky to get one coherent word out at her...and spend the rest of the day fantasizing what could've happened. So I'm rather quiet, agoraphobia hits hard in large or crowded places so I'm an anxiety riddled mess on the verge of a panic attack. In private or with people that I'm comfortable with? Complete opposite. Happy, bubbly, cracking puns and jokes so get those groan worthy reactions. I try to be the "mom friend" and get over my issues if someone is having it worse, I'll march up to a counter and ask for ketchup if someone wanted it but was too scared to do it themselves. The shoulder to lean and cry on, I'm highly empathetic and understanding, compassionate at times. But I have to actively try and keep myself positive and say good things about myself because I do fall into the pit of self-loathing and hate.

For appearance I'd say I'm average height, pale with white splotches that are inching larger due to my vitiligo, chubby, ashy blonde, blue eyes, button nose. I'd say I'm decently cute? I don't know if I can rate myself.

Okay I know I said I'd be looking into Zodiac compatibility for this but— I literally just screamed internally "KIRISHIMA" when I was reading this. You two would be perfect omg. This Libra king would do anything for you. For this you're an artist and the daughter of a mafia boss :) I like to think of ship names sometimes so like, yours would either be like Eijmay or Mayjirou or Kiriloe— that last one and first are awful I know so lets go with the second? I can't write a proper stutter for the life of me so I tried to keep your dialogue to the minimum.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ Pairing: Eijirou Kirishima

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AU: Mafia

⠀Theme Song: You're The One That I Want - Alex & Sierra

How you meet (his point of view):

⠀⠀The gallery was full of black and white suits, tight, floor length dresses with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses meeting his ears. It was a joyous evening, celebrating the wonderful art work created by the boss's daughter. He had never met her before but he had heard whispers, all good as no one would dare slander the name of their leader's precious little girl. You were the boss's pride and joy, thus he kept you as far away from the darker side of the family business as possible.

⠀⠀Kirishima was still a new hire, a bodyguard of sorts and would consider this his first gig. He had an idea of who he was looking for as he walked further into the mass of people admiring your work but didn't expect what he would eventually come across. You were as far away from the crowd as you possibly could be, guzzling glasses of wine and over all appearing to be a deer in headlights. He couldn't fugure out for the life of him why you seemed so frightened until he watched people approach you to talk, noticing the stutter in your voice when you replied to questions and greetings,your body language telling people to stear clear of you.

⠀⠀So, he did what he was hired to do. "Kindly step away from the lady." He said with a smile, approaching with his large arms crossing over his broad chest as he towered over the guests. They looked at him as if he were a giant shark looking to devour them before scurrying away, leaving the two of you alone. He stood quietly, listening to the voices on the other side of his ear piece as his ruby eyes scanned the area around you. He made sure to not stand so close and avoided in letting his gaze wander.

⠀⠀He couldn't help but admire your skin in quick glances, finding the spot over your eye to be quite adorable. Your silky, ask blonde hair was all dolled up for the event, light make up on your face but not enough to cover the vitiligo. You were stunning and his heart hammered against his chest. So the rumors were true.

⠀⠀You thanked him, voice quiet and careful as you set down your wine glass and clasped your hands together. Out of the corner of his eye he watched you twiddle your thumbs. You didn't want to be here, did you? This obviously wasn't your idea, how could it be? A girl like you, timid as a mouse, didn't want to be surrounded by strangers. "Miss..." He began, thinking carefully because the last thing he wanted to do was piss off the boss and likely get himself killed. But this was his job wasn't it? Making sure you were happy and safe? "Would you like to leave here for a bit? We'll come back of course, but you look like you need some air."

Extra.

He ended up taking you to a drive thru restaurant and got you whatever you wanted, letting you talk about whatever you wanted or sat quietly if you chose not to talk at all If it was quiet in the suv then that was fine too, he just wanted to help you in any way he could. Eventually the silence becomes small talk and then leads to a rather deep conversation about whatever the hell was going on inside that beautiful brain of yours. Kirishima wasn't the smartest man but he wasn't stupid, he wasn't as clueless as most thought he was. You told him how your father made you do this as an attempt to get you out there, to socialize and possibly find a suitor. This was the mafia after all.

The Confession:

⠀⠀It was a tradition now, every Sunday you and Eijirou would go to your favorite café to have coffee and enjoy the early day weather before it got too hot. You sit at the same table, in the same chairs with him facing the door. You get the same drinks and food and just overall enjoy each others company. After that night at the gallery you two became fast friends, which your father obviously had to approve of but thankfully he did. Kirishima was a good man, he's trustworthy and puts you before himself.

⠀⠀The day he approached your father and asked to speak in private was the day he knew he was likely to get thrown in the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean. He has confessed his feelings for you to your old man, who listened intently with a blank face behind his desk. "Sir, I'm in love with your daughter, and with your blessing I'd like to... court her." He was utterly terrified when your father cleared his throat and sighed, shifting where he sat so he could stand and move around the desk. He reached out for a handshake which Kirishima looked up at him with a questioning look.

⠀⠀Your father gave his blessing and now... He just had to tell you, his best friend, that he loved you. God he loved you so much— "Kiri," you interrupted his thoughts, bringing him crashing back to reality," a-are you alright? You seem nervous." He swallowed hard in response but cleared his throat, taking a sip of his cappuccino.

⠀⠀"Oh yeah— definitely." He breathed with a laugh, moving a hand to the back of his neck to scratch. How was he going to say it? "So, uh—" he licked his lips, adjusting himself in his seat multiple times until he groaned and leaned forward. "Fuck, I'm just gonna say it— Maybell, I love you. I have for a long time now and I talked to your father and he said—"

⠀⠀"Said what, Eijirou?" Your eyes widened at his confession and he felt like a complete idiot. Should he had said something to you first? Was this a mistake? What if you didn't feel the same way? God his mind was going to explode—

⠀⠀"That I could... court you. With your permission." You were quick to nod and smile to his surprise, which prompted a grin if his own.

Extra.

Kirishima HAS to be facing the door in any public place you go to. I don't make the rules.

He never let's you walk close to the road, he has to be between you and it at all times when you're walking.

He oders your food and drinks for you when you can't but is there for moral support when you do. He wants you comfortable and happy. He wouldn't ever dare get in your way though, you're a lot stronger and braver than most may think you are.

The Relationship:

⠀⠀On days like this, Kirishima can't help but admire you. He catches himself staring wuite often but he just can't help it. What did he do to deserve such a beautiful partner? He looks at you and all he can think about is how much he loves you and wants to see you smile. He watched you from the kitchen island, leaning against it as you waltz around the kitchen in your pinky fuzzy slippers and one of his shirts that's much, much too big on you. He remembers your surprise when you found his clothing was actually too big on you and how happy you were.

⠀⠀"Maybell?" He hums, adjusting his stance and crossing his arms on the counter. He listened for you to him back in response, a smile on his lips. "You look so cute in my clothes.

⠀⠀You giggled, shaking your head and continued putting the dishes away until Eijirou appeared behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and his forehead coming down on your shoulder. "Need somethin' baby?" You turned your head just slightly, a brow cocked inquisitively. He squeezed you in response, swiftly lifting you and making you squeal. Thankfully you didn't have anything in your hands at the moment. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face, setting you down only to lift you again bridal style.

⠀⠀"I've got all I need right here in my arms." He chuckled and you playfully smacked his chest, letting him carry you to your shared bedroom.

Extra.

TICKLE FIGHTS.

He thinks your sneezes are the cutest thing in the world.

He loves your god awful puns, they crack him up every time.

Adores the fact you're a nurturer, especially with your friends. He thinks you'd make a great mother but if that's something you don't want he respects that.

You take care of everyone, but who takes care of you? Eijirou is always there to be your shoulder to lean and cry on, he's your sound board and is always happy to let you talk about your feelings with him. You're allowed to not be happy and bubbly all the time, he realizes how staying positive all the time can actually do more damage than goof, especially if you bottle everything up.

If on a particular day you're struggling with your speech he's happy to be your voice as well. He understands you better than anyone, even your own father.

Speaking of your father, he can't wait to make Eijirou his son-in-law! He's a good man with a good heart and treats you right, what's not to like?

He has trouble saying no to you and spoils you quite a bit.

The Fights:

...

Extra.

There's nothing, what you say goes and all he can say is "yes dear". He knows better than to argue with you, however when he's right and he knows he is, he finds a way to prove it without making you mad.

The Sex:

⠀⠀"Fuck baby—" he hissed, hands finding your hips and guiding you as you rub yourself on his cock. Your hands are on his thighs and your head is tossed back, giving him the perfect view of your tits. God he loves them, he loves the plush skin of your stomach and your thighs, your ass too, he loved seeing all of you. He was so happy that you allow him this privilege of seeing you, granted you've been dating a while now but still. Your sounds are music to his ears and all he wants is to make more, make you feel so good you're calling his name and making a mess.

He wanted— no, needed, to feel you, to feel inside your warm and wet cunt, to feel it squeeze him and milk him dry. He was quick to flip the two of you over, careful to not hurt you as he did. You gasped and giggled, reaching up to hold his face as he smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He loved your taste, he could go on and on about all the things he loved about you all day if he could. "You want it baby?" You nodded excitedly, lip caught between your teeth. He smirked and reached between the two of you, thick fingers tracing a line between your lips and slipping inside your soaked pussy.

"D-Daddy—" you whine, a slight pout on your lips as your face morphs into one of pleasure. He chuckled, pumping his fingers in and out a few times before removing them and grabbing his cock. He coated it more in your slick, guiding it between tge lips of your cunt before slowly pushing inside, groaning at how tight you are. You squeal of course, gasping for breath because Kirishima is an impressive size, you still struggled to take him sometimes but like a good girl you always managed.

"That's my good girl." He cooed, moving so his forearms were on either side of your head. He gave a couple test thrusts, waiting for you to adjust u til you nodded for him to continue.

Extra.

Terrified of activating his quirk while he's fucking you, but he keeps himself under control.

He loves his hair pulled and he loves to be bitten, he especially likes it when you scratch his back when he hits that good spot.

Eats you out for his pleasure mostly, but for yours as well. He loves when you grind on his face and moan his name when you do it. Speaking of, please sit on his face, he loves that shit. He knows how to be careful of his teeth!

If you have pets they CANNOT be in the same roon when you're doing the do, it's just weird.

He'd happily bend you over in the kitchen and do you right there. Hell, he'll fuck you anywhere you deem suitable.

He likes to do a mixture if praise and degradation with you, and edging and overstimulation is a big go-to. He just loves seeing you squirm under him, hr loves hearing you beg and say you need him.

#dreamer's 800 follower event

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lezliefaithwade · 3 years

Text

A Breath of Fresh Air

The summer after my first year of theatre school, I was sleeping on the living room floor of my cousin's apartment in Toronto, trying to figure out what to do with my life. My cousin had been an actor before he became a quadriplegic in a car accident, and as I unadvisedly bemoaned my unemployment status, he said something like, "Seriously? You're complaining about your life? Don't make me burst a colostomy bag." He was right, of course. I wasn't in a wheelchair, though I did have a stepmother who had rendered me homeless because of her dislike for me. She was always saying things like, "Your hair can't be as ugly as that hat you're wearing." Or simply refusing to invite me to things like Christmas dinner. I always admired people with families. My boyfriend at the time was one of five kids who were always doing things together. Their house was always full of noise and activities. Even as a shiksa, I felt more at home there than with my stepbrothers and sisters, who never lost an opportunity to point out that I was weird. I wanted to stand up to them, but not wanting to cause my father any grief, I held my tongue and sought refuge elsewhere. It occurred to me that perhaps I was using the theatre as an opportunity to say things through characters that I couldn't find the courage to express myself.

The Toronto Star was still open on the kitchen table, and I rummage through the Want Ads, that dirty part of the newspaper near the back where complete strangers will soon become complete assholes in your life by forcing you to work menial jobs in humiliating uniforms for minimum wage.

"Find anything?" my cousin called from the bedroom, where two attendants helped wash and dress him.

"Social services are advertising for camp councilors to work with emotionally challenged kids."

"Oh yeah," He said. "That might suit you."

I'm not sure I knew what he meant but, I was beginning to think I'd outgrown my welcome. My cousin probably would have encouraged me to join the circus if the option had been available. Knowing my living room days were numbered, I thought it best to make an effort and apply.

I had no experience teaching drama—no experience working with kids and no experience going to or working at a camp. Despite all that, I was hired. It's worth noting that it's probably not a good sign if you get a job with no qualifications whatsoever.

My official position was Drama Councillor, and I prided myself that with only a year and half of theatre training behind me, I was well equipped to help others benefit from the wealth of my experience. I imagined myself, Maria Von Trapp, teaching children how to sing while they looked at me adoringly. Somehow, I conveniently blocked out the rebellious early stages she experienced and skipped straight to the good parts. Also, I might add, forgetting about the Nazis and having to climb over a mountain. Still, visions of me biking around camp with a group of happy campers behind me filled me with a sense of self-satisfaction.

As I packed my knapsack with deet and a secret stash of Twinkies, I thought of how only three weeks earlier I'd been in New York walking through Central Park and savoring Cappuccinos at outdoor cafés on Columbus. Now, here I was, ready for something different. The wilderness, I imagined, would be a welcome change—fresh air and loons instead of smog and sirens. I thought smugly about my classmates sweating behind visors at take-out windows shoveling fries into cardboard cups or wrapping sandwiches in tinfoil. Thumbs up to adventure, I told myself. The fact that I'd never once in my life enjoyed the great outdoors didn't factor into my mind. All of this changed with each accumulated minute of the 391 Kilometer drive north.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the compound. Overcast, sullen, it was a place so secluded you'd need flares to find it. It had that distinct aura of someplace time forgot. A place left behind and neglected. In the brochure, the sun was shining, flowers filled the meadow, and you could practically hear laughter floating off the page. What I was looking at bore more of a resemblance to a situation in a Stephen King novel where camp councilors discover a pack of hungry teenage zombies have lured them to a seemingly idyllic retreat. Situated right in the heart of black fly country, I spent most of my days swatting insects so big they seem Jurassic.

During our orientation, child care workers warned us that children with mental health needs tend to run away - a lot and to keep strict attendance records and all eyes on them at all times. "These kids are resourceful and clever," they cautioned. I couldn't imagine being so determined you'd risk your life by escaping through the woods that surrounded us, but then again, I'd never been around children who weren't allowed cutlery before either

I shared my cabin with three other women with who I had absolutely nothing in common. Delia, a humorless 27-year-old cooking instructor who answered every question with a monosyllabic grunt, Jennifer, a 26-year old tennis instructor with massive blond ringlets who talked so quickly she sounded like a record on high speed, and an older aboriginal woman named Sunny who made us all dream catchers and offered advice about how to heal ourselves on days when we'd feel spent. "Remember, these kids need us," she said while purifying our cabin with sage. As I glanced around my assigned bunk, taking in the spider webs and loose floorboards, I had that sinking feeling that comes when you know you've made a terrible mistake. Before long, I was eating copious amounts of peanut butter on stale bagels amid a never-ending supply of starch. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to feed children with challenges like anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, and eating disorders copious amounts of sugar and carbs. It certainly did nothing to help them or me.

On the first day of class, I sat everyone in a circle. "Welcome to drama class," I said with a smile. "Let's begin by sharing with everyone a little bit about ourselves. Anything at all you'd like us to know?" A hand went up.

"I'm Tracy, and I hate my stupid ass brother. He can go straight to hell."

"Okay," I said, "That's a start. Who's next?"

Another hand. "I'm Jonathan, and this place sucks so much I wish it would burn to the ground!"

"Fair enough. Anyone else?"

"I'm Jo. I'm schizophrenic. So sometimes I'm Rachel and Julia. You'll know the difference because Rachel has a British dialect, and Julia talks slang."

"O-kay." I glanced at the social workers who sat on the edge of the room and looked at me with an expression that basically said, "We can't wait to see what you do next."

"Let's write a play," I suggested. "Write anything you want. Once you're happy with the work, I'll shape it into a cohesive piece that we'll rehearse and then present at the end of the season talent showcase."

The kids liked this idea. The showcase was a big deal. It was an opportunity for them to blow off some steam and express themselves to friends and family in a creative way. My only stipulation was not to use profanity. As the weeks passed, I was impressed with how well they all threw themselves into this project—all except Eric, the oldest boy in my 12 to 15-year-olds. Eric often wandered around the rehearsal space, unfocused and sullen.

"Any ideas for your piece?" I ask, checking in to see if I could help.

"I'm thinking," he'd say and then pace.

With three weeks left in the summer, I took my well-deserved week off to decompress. My boyfriend came up from Toronto and drove me to his parent's house at Post and Bayview, where caterers were preparing the tennis courts for an outdoor party. I walked into his mother's living room, and she gasped. "What happened to you?"

I didn't blame her. I hadn't spent much time looking at a mirror the past four weeks, but one glance at the large one in their bathroom told the full story. My hair was ratty; I had scabs on my knees, bruises on my arms and legs, and I was sunburnt. I was wearing a vintage skirt and blouse that was probably more Value Village than vintage and a pair of worn, scuffed purple moccasins; in essence, I was wearing slippers on my feet.

"Please take her to the mall and at least buy her a pair of shoes," his mother said, handing me her credit card and then rushing off to make sure the stuffed alligator would float in the pool. That week I ate my way through rugelach, hamantaschen, brisket, and bagels while his family watched me with awe and disgust.

Back at camp, the smell of burning insect repellent greeted me along with the news that the sailing and tennis instructors were sacked for disorderly conduct. Never mind, I had renewed energy and a sense of purpose. There were costumes and props to make. Sound and lighting effects to create. And we needed to rehearse. It was only a tiny stage somewhere on a remote camp in Northern Ontario, but the excitement was palpable. I was excited. This would be the best talent show ever, and my kids were going to blow the socks off everyone there!!!

"Eric," I said, "How's your piece coming along?"

"I finished it," he mentioned casually

"That's great. Can I see it?"

"I want to surprise you. You're going to love it, though. I promise."

I patted myself on the back. Eric had a breakthrough. All my encouragement and patience had paid off. Perhaps I'd helped him have a developmental breakthrough.

"Can you tell me what it's about?" I asked.

"The Beatles."

"Great. Okay," and left it at that.

Talent Night arrived along with parents and family friends. The lights dimmed, the kids performed, and the audience enthusiastically applauded as each "Mighty Mite" or "Spirit of Paradise" breezed across the stage, acting out skits about fairies and monsters and assorted escapades. Finally, it was Eric's turn. Out he came, looking serious and theatrical. He cleared his throat and addressed the audience.

"This is called, The Beatles Last Recording Session. By, Me."

Three of his closest camp friends filed out and took a space on the stage. The audience was silent.

There was a dramatic pause, then the piece began.

"Fuck you, Ringo,"

"Fuck you, Paul."

"Fuck you, George."

"Well fuck you, John."

Then they bowed and left the stage.

Personally, I thought it was kind of brilliant. Needless to say, I wasn't showered with accolades about my teaching methods or the effect I had on kids. I left there having no catharsis about mental health except that giving people the opportunity to express themselves without censor is probably a lot healthier than insisting they stay quiet. I admired the honesty displayed in the kid's work. If only, I thought to myself, I could be half as brave. Wasn't that what I was spending time and money learning how to do?

A week after being home, I found myself packing, once more, for school in New York. Our term letters had arrived with instructions on where to buy character shoes, leotards, copies of The Children's Hour, and Death of a Salesman. The camp already felt like it was 391 kilometers away - soon to be 659. My father drove me to the train station with my stepmother beside him; she was there, no doubt, to ensure I boarded.

"You going to be okay?" my father asked, giving me a hug and slipping a $50 bill into my pocket.

"She'll be fine." Elsie chimed in. "You don't have to worry about her. Let's go."

But I wanted my father to worry about me. Not all the time and to the exclusion of all else, but certainly the appropriate fatherly amount.

As I settled myself on the train, I watched my stepmother pull from father from the platform to the car and thought of Eric's brilliant play. Under my breath, I whispered the immortal words of the Beatles, "Fuck you."

#stepmother #mental health #children #young people #summer camp

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