#it's just a silly au of mine where i wished she would get a decent redemption arc

[i-like-anything-water]

okay this is rough and jumbled.

SnakeHolder!Chloe headcanons:

Sass is shown to be calm and charming, qualities that make the Kwamis look up to him and consider him as a leader figure. Chloe's tendencies to be easily driven by poor writing by her emotions, especially her self loathing and insecurities can be redeemed with continuous support, calm but firm guidance by Sass. He's also described as mature and responsible which dissuades Chloe's attempts at anything that could get her in trouble or revert her to her old ways.

Sass had doubts at first but after a near death experience where Chloe didn't seem to be fazed or had mind, he was intrigued. And maybe a bit worried.

Surprisingly, Chloe denies him at first saying that Ladybug was right and she shouldn't be trusted with another miraculous. This goes on and on until she finally bursts and all the pent up trauma comes out. Part time Kwami, full time Therapist.

Their relationship is rocky at first but they eventually became civil after they transformed (against Chloe's will) to fight off a powered up akuma. The others weren't aware as Chloe insisted they work incognito.

Chloe slowly redeems herself after acting quick and planning fast everytime she uses Second Chance. It's hard to keep up while making sure she doesn't get seen by the other heroes. It's hard at first but what does she have to lose anyway?

Her new hero persona eventually bleeds into her personal life. She's still sassy (lol), mean, and doesn't take anyone's shit but she's more aware now. Going back in time to fix things alters your brain chemistry.

Awareness is the first step to redemption. After numerous breakdowns and nights of self loathing and pity, she eventually acknowledges everything she's done wrong and sees everything in a new perspective and just freaks out.

Cue Protective Sass!

The process is slow and subtle and people don't notice it at first. Chloe thinks first now. She's able to hold in usual insults that would freely come out of her and reconsider her reaction (unless it's sudden, spooked her, etc.)

Next to awareness and acknowledgement is guilt. After realizing everything she's done, she tries everything she can do at that moment to change even some things. Apologies aren't easy for her because she's never even heard that directed to her. In sincerity and not fear. So, whenever she doesn't have to help Ladybug and Chat Noir, she practices with Sass.

"I..," a shaky breath, "I'm sorry."

She practices the phrase before and after the day.

She's hella confused. She's grateful Sass is there to assure her everytime. She stumbles through her words but she manages to get out a sincere apology to the closest person she has: Sabrina.

They talk about it and their friendship shifts. It's not perfect, but it's better than before.

She hasn't formally apologized to the others yet but she's trying.

With help from both Sabrina and Sass, she starts to apologize (but now with more confidence) to people she's hurt. Rose is open to the idea of mending bonds, the others are wary but doesn't say anything else.

The last two she apologizes to is Adrien and Marinette. Adrien is wary but his kindness overweights his doubts. They're not back to what was before and frankly Chloe is glad. She doesn't want what's in the past, she wants to create something now and for the future.

Marinette was the last.

"You shouldn't forgive me right away," she interrupts the shorter girl, "I know you're kind and such a goody two shoes but that doesn't mean you should forgive me after a week or so." She levels a determined look to shocked blue eyes, "Let me prove myself first." And softer, "please."

Well that's all I have so far. I just find it befitting for two major reasons: Sass's ability can actually help Chloe see things in more than one perspective which would help her deal and open up with all her trauma and toxic habits. The ability allows her to be more observant on where she needs to go back to fix the mistake. It takes quick thinking and concentration of the user. It requires an open mind on alternatives. And secondly, 'Second Chance' is fitting for what she needs. Not a half baked Arc where she doesn't know what she wants and needs. But something firm and continuous to keep her going. A real second chance.

That's just me and my rambling. Feel free to add or correct me about anything! (Don't be rude about it though).

#chloe bourgeois #chloe redemption #i am not excusing her canon behaviors just so we're clear #it's just a silly au of mine where i wished she would get a decent redemption arc #forgiveness isn't easily given nor demanded #some people genuinely see the good even the tiniest bit while some don't #and that's valid #anyways this can have any ships if ever but this was made with chlonette in mind #one thing i didn't want to emphasize is the romantic interactions #because while it could be a factor i want chloe to redeem herself with her own accord #and reason #still #chlonette #marinete dupain cheng #too much of a sucker for them

[bubblybubbubs]

Stuck With Me

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary- Being with your soulmate is supposed to be when you’re most happy,  but you find yours quite intolerable.

Soulmate AU

part 2

Word Count- Both parts together have a 4891 word count in total.

AN- Here it is!! I am so excited to see how you all like this. This is honestly my favorite thing I have written. The second(last) part should be published next week same time.

Once a year. Every year on the day you’re meant to meet your soulmate you get to ask them one question. No obvious questions like, what’s your name or what’s your address but just small questions to get to know your perfect match, the one that would love you more than anyone else in the world.

You asked your first question when you were 5.

The day was August 25th, you were sat on your couch watching television when you suddenly felt the tug.

Your parents had explained it well enough, when you felt the tugging sensation it meant you could finally ask your first question to your soulmate.

You were giddy with excitement.

You closed your eyes shut and thought “What's your favorite color?”

As you waited for an answer you realized that was a silly question. But it was the first to come to mind and there was no changing it.

“Blue.” the voice in your head said. “Do you like dogs?”

“yes.” You said.

And that was it, you felt a little underwhelmed but still ran off to tell your parents what happened.

When you were 6 you were prepared. You had made a list of all the possible questions and as the day neared you slowly eliminated the options.

So when you felt the tug you were ready.

“what’s your favorite candy.”

“chocolate cauldrons.” You smiled content with your soulmate's answer.

“do you like quidditch?”

“yes.” you said and once again it was over. you felt more excited this time, knowing two new things about them.

when you were 7 you invited your best friend Ginny Weasley to be at your house for the special moment.

“What are you going to ask?” She giggles as she sat across from you eating sugar quills.

“I’m going to ask if they’re British, my mom said it’s a way of seeing if they’re close by.”You hoped they would say yes, if they didn't you might have to wait a long time before meeting them.

Suddenly you felt the tug and you gave Ginny a thumbs up telling her it was happening.

“Are you British?” You asked as Ginny grinned at you.

“Yes.” They said “Are you British?”

“Yes.” You said.

When you were 8 you were a bit nervous.

You had heard stories of people who suddenly stopped getting questions every year and you didn’t want that to happen to you.

You were sat on your parents’s bed the whole day as they kept comforting you telling you that you’d get the question soon.

Luckily you did get the tug, you practically bolted out of bed when you felt it.

“I told you so.” Your mom said smiling at you.

This time your soulmate asked first “What’s your blood status?” You were a witch but you were confused as to why your soulmate would waste their yearly question on that.

“I’m a half blood.” You said “Have you ever been to Diagon Alley?” You and Ginny had been planning the question for weeks, it was a way of trying to find just how close your soulmate was.

“yes.”

when you were 10 you started to realize that you may have already met your soulmate, there was no way to know.

You were with Ginny playing at the park when you felt the tug.

“It’s time!” you told her and you both rushed to a bench to sit.

“Are you going to be a first year at Hogwarts next year like me?” You and Ginny had worked hard coming up with that question and you both crossed your fingers for your soulmate to say yes.

“Yes.” you almost started jumping up and down thinking of how you were going to be at the same school as your soulmate next year.

“Is your hair blonde like mine?” You smiled at how he had cleverly worded his question. “(your answer).”

You knew that from now on every August 25th you would look very closely at every blonde you saw.

When you were 11 you hadn’t even noticed you had met your soulmate.

You were scouring the book shelves of Flourish and Botts for ‘The Standard Book of Spells’ when you bumped into a boy.

“Sorry.” You said

“Watch where you’re going.” The boy said angrily.

“Don’t be rude.” You said crossing your arms.

“You’re the one that bumped into me.” He huffed. You would’ve noticed his blonde hair or how he had all the same first year books you did if you weren’t so angry.

So instead you grabbed the book off the shelf and stomped off to find your parents to tell them about the infuriating boy you had just met.

That night you felt the tug. You had been sitting in your room when you got back from Diagon Alley waiting since it hadn’t happened all day.

“Did you go to Diagon Alley today like I did?” You asked. You had guessed that there was a good chance you had met your soulmate today since there had been many first years at Diagon Alley, so you had dressed up nice and done your hair. But no one seemed to stick out as soul mate material. 

“Yes.” Your mind started to spin trying to remember every blonde boy your age that you saw. “What hogwarts house do you want to be in?”

“Gryffindor.” You said. Your mom was a gryffindor and she always talked about how much she loved hogwarts and you wanted to have as much fun as she did.

That school year you were sorted into Gryffindor just like you wished. You kept searching for blonde boys in your grade and you had quickly eliminated Draco Malfoy from the options.

You’d rather die soulmateless than be stuck with Malfoy forever. You did not get along, he was always teasing you and your friends and you thought he was extremely insufferable.

Instead you had become convinced Ernie Macmillian was your soulmate. He was blonde and he was a kind Hufflepuff, though you didn’t remember seeing him at Diagon Alley. When you asked him he quickly shut you down telling you he met his soulmate on September 1st not August 25th.

So when you were 12 you were more than ready to ask the question you had in your head all of your first year.

“What is your house?” You asked

“Slytherin.” He said. You were a bit surprised you couldn’t believe your soulmate was in your rival house.

“Are you friends with Harry Potter.” He asked “Yes.” You said.

That night you went to sleep excited, you felt like you were so close to finding out who your soulmate was, but you couldn’t think of a single decent Slytherin with blonde hair.

That year was similar to the last except the feud between Draco and you grew. Even more when you thought he was the heir of Slytherin.

“Don’t you think Draco could be your soulmate, I can’t think of anyone else who fits the description.” Hermoine said. She was the only one you had told.

“No way.” You said blatantly.

You had not been on good terms with Draco at that time.

“Filthy little mudblood.” Draco said to Hermoine.

“What did you just say to her?” You said taken aback by his words.

“You heard what I said halfbreed.” He said, giving you a dirty look.

With that you tackled him to the ground.

“Get her off of me, Get her off of me.” Draco yelled as you continued to wrestle with him.

“Come on he’s not worth it.” Harry and Ron said, pulling you off of him.

You huffed. “Don’t you ever speak to Hermoine like that again Malfoy.”

He just looked at you with wide eyes.

“Merlin, she's crazy.”

#draco x y/n #draco malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #pansy x daphne #hogwarts #slytherin #Gryffindor #soulmate au #draco malfoy x reader #stuck with me

[all1e23]

Between the Stars [Pt. 1]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x  Reader

Summary:  Struggling with the death of your husband, you find comfort in someone unexpected.

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death 

A/N:  It’s a military AU with the loss of a spouse. This was the only WIP of mine I was really upset to discontinue. Which is why it’s the only one I left up. After some love from my @moonbeambucky​,​ I’m posting the first chapter and we will see how it goes. No, I do not have a posting schedule nor do I know when the next part will be up. No Bucky yet but the next chapter is nothing but Bucky.  It’s still very heavy in the angst but hang tight. It gets better once Bucky comes home. If you like it write a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s breath warmed your skin, making you shiver. “It’s time to wake up, my sweetheart.” 

You pulled the cover over your head, hiding the grin on your face and blocking out the sun along with your husband. Steve’s chuckle made your smile widen enough to make your cheeks hurt. There was a gentle tug to the blanket, and you knew Steve was attempting to tenderly coax you out of bed. You slowly lowered the quilt down to your nose, only letting your eyes peek out, and you find your husband’s gorgeous smile beaming down at you, making your heart flutters from the sight. 

“It’s Saturday, Steven.” 

“Steven?” Steve chuckled and tried to pull the covers off your face yet again. “I’m in that much trouble?” 

You narrowed your eyes and tightened your grip on your blanket. 

“Yes, Steven, you are.” 

Steve settled himself on top of you, leaving the blanket wedged between you, but he pulled it down far enough to see your whole face. He placed a kiss to the tip of your crinkled up nose and smiled at the exaggerated pout you put on. 

“We have brunch with everyone, or did you forget that it was your idea?” 

“I did forget,” You whined quietly. “You know better than to let me plan things when I’m excited, and I’ve had more than two glasses of wine.” 

He only grinned wider at that. Didn’t say a word, and you started to fidget from your own self-consciousness. You hated and loved it when he looked at you like that. It made you fear the day he would stop. Eight years in, and it was still there despite fights over how to load the dishwasher, silly tiffs about money and arguments over what way the toilet paper goes on the holder. 

“What are you going to do when our kids come running in here to wake you up? Are you going to send our sweet babies away?” 

He just had to go there. Steve just had to go and mention sweet moments of babies and cuddles -- Your weakness.  

You relented and finally wrapped your arms around his neck, dipping your fingers into his longer than usual hair. He would have to cut it soon.  Couldn’t be a soldier and have hair long enough to tuck behind his ears. You liked when he let it get long, though. It made him your Steve again. Which sounded ridiculous. He didn’t have long hair and beard when you met, or the night he kissed you for the first time, but it didn’t matter how silly it was. This version was your Steve, and the short-haired, clean-shaven one belonged to the Army. 

“Well, if they are running up here to wake me up because their daddy made me breakfast, I could be convinced to get out bed for some kisses and cuddles.” 

Steve’s sweet laugh made your skin prickle. You wondered if he would let you record it before he left this time or if that was going too far. Probably not. Steve would do just about anything you asked of him, so you couldn’t imagine he would ever tell you no for something that would put your heart at ease while he was gone. 

“Maybe we skip brunch and get started on those babies, hm?” 

You grinned. 

Steve always knew exactly what to say.

“God, I love you, Rogers.” 

Steve’s right hand slipped under the sheet and under the white cotton shirt of his that you were currently using as a pajama, his fingers dug into your ribs making you squirm, and he dipped his head down, barely brushing over your parted lips, he whispered, “And, I love you, baby.” 

Your eyes opened, and you weren’t met with the sight of your husband. It was the same ugly white ceiling you’ve stared at for the past month, the past thirteen months, really.  It’s been a month since everything was finalized. By someone’s good fortune that was not your own, Steve had insisted you buy your house off base so at least you could keep the home you built together. It hadn’t made this last month any easier. Thirty-six days since you got the news and thirty days since you laid Steve to rest. You were supposed to be improving, or so the books and all your friends and family said. You didn’t know how anyone expected you to get better. You could barely put one foot in front of the other, let alone think about moving on with what little bit of a life you had left. 

The sun was hitting the full-length mirror hanging on the far wall at the perfect angle, and you knew it was nearly seven, judging by the position of the glare coming off the glass. You could spend the rest of the day in bed, and you would have every right to. No one would let you get away with wallowing today you had a feeling. Besides, you had to stop by Sarah’s and make sure she was okay. It has been far too long since you checked in on her, and that wasn’t fair to her. She was grieving just as much as you were. So, you forced yourself out of bed, stood on shaky legs, and made the short, dreadfully long walk to your closet.

The red flannel you pulled out of black felt-lined hanger still smelled like Steve. All of his things did, and his scent hung heavy in your room. You pulled it on over your tank top and brought the collar up to your nose, taking in a deep breath. That earthy citrus smell still made your knees a little weak. Eventually, you were going to have to wash his things. You glanced at your bed, the pile of crumpled sheets you would typically insist on making before your day started. What was the point in making them now? No one would see them but you. No one would know if you made your bed or left it a wreck for days on end. 

You should wash them, a voice in your head nagged. 

No, you shouldn’t. 

His pillow is still his pillow, so long as you don’t wash it. Maybe next month. You haven’t been sleeping much as it is, and when you do, you usually fall asleep on the couch so the sheets could stand to go a while longer.

The house was eerily quiet in the mornings. Steve was always the first one up and the last one down. The quiet made those times harder. It was the heavy reminder he was gone, and the weight of that on your chest left you unable to rest. Landing at the bottom of the stairs, you found Sam still fast asleep on the couch with no signs of waking any time soon. He had shown up last night claiming he needed to see you, but you knew Sam was there to check up on you. It had nothing to do with his own grief. Sam became your shadow the moment the funeral ended, and part of you wished he would just go away. 

You wanted everyone to go away and let you grieve in the only way you knew how. 

The coffee pot was empty, and it glared at you the moment you entered the kitchen. As it has been for the last year. Another reminder that Steve was gone and never coming back. When he was home, Steve would set the timer before his run, so by the time you woke up and made your way downstairs, there was always a fresh pot waiting for you. You’ve been making your own coffee since he deployed, and not one morning had it come out right. 

You should have known then something was wrong. 

A large, calloused hand slipped around your waist from behind, and gentle kisses landed on your neck. He shouldn’t be here, and yet, he was. He was late for PT and was surely going to get yelled at the second he arrived. Steve didn’t seem bothered by the thought, or maybe kissing you was really worth it like he claimed.

“I believe you're wearing my favorite shirt,” Steve’s voice rumbled against your skin, and you tried to suppress the shudder it sent through you. 

“What’s yours is mine, Husband.” 

Steve chuckled. 

“How many cups of coffee does that make for you, Wife?” 

“Two,” You said with shaky confidence and a scrunched nose that said you weren’t being entirely truthful.

Steve nuzzled his nose along your jaw, and he roughly whispered in your ear, “Liar. Wanna try that again?” 

“Fine,” you conceded with an eye roll. “This is cup three, but I’m not having any more for the day because you’re here stealing the rest.” Steve smiled fondly and took his travel mug from its spot next to yours. 

“No more until you have some water. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” Steve cupped your jaw with his free hand and tilted your head back to rest on his shoulder. He pressed a tender kiss to your lips and one to your nose. 

“I’ll see you tonight beautiful.” 

“Y/n… Hey…”

“Do you promise?” 

“I promise, baby. When do I ever break my promises to you?” 

“Hey, Y/n.” Sam tried again, more forceful his time. “Are you okay?”

You blinked, finding Sam standing in front of you with a look of concern drawing his brows together. You looked down at the counter where two cups were resting, full of black steaming coffee. You had only meant to pour one cup. Or had you? Sam realized the mistake before you did. The cup was for Steve. He quickly leaned forward and slid the mug towards him. 

"Mind if I get a cup? Didn't sleep great last night." 

A breath of relief.

You nodded and slipped the carafe back where it rested, avoiding Sam’s watchful eyes. 

"...How are you sleeping?" 

"Fine." 

Sam raised a brow. 

"Decent." You reluctantly confessed. "Enough that I can make it through the day."

"And what are you doing... to make it through the day? Have you tried to play?" 

Your eyes shifted to the piano that sat in the den, and you quickly looked away. There was no point in beating around the bush with that one. Someone was coming to look at it at the end of the week, and you were hopeful by the weekend to have it sold. There were some things that you wouldn’t be able to pick back up again, and falling in love and playing the piano was on the top of the list.  There was no reason to pretend. 

"No. I don't--" You shook your head. "It's as if my fingers can't remember the keys. I don't know. Nothing feels right anymore." 

That was normal. Everything you were feeling was perfectly normal, and Sam wanted to tell you that. You knew he did, but he didn’t, and you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. This was hard enough without feeling like your closest friend was counseling you. 

“It’s not fair.” 

“No, it’s not--” 

“I haven’t washed his pillowcase yet.” You blurted without thinking. “I, uh, I’m scared if I do it will lose his scent, and it won’t be his anymore. Which is stupid. He hasn’t slept on it in over a year. I could easily spray more cologne on the cover like I have been since he left, and it would be the same. It feels different now. Final. Am I going crazy? Because it feels like I am losing it, Sam.” 

“That’s all normal. You’re grieving. It’s normal to not be rational--”

No. That was not what you wanted. 

“I don’t want therapy Sam right now,” You snapped. “I want Sam. My Sam.” 

Sam leaned back against the backing of the barstool and stared at you. Your gaze didn’t waver. You picked at your nails, and your bottom lip was trembling, but you held your gaze steady. Sam knew when to push and when not to. Right now, you were right. You didn’t need him to baby you, to walk on eggshells, and repeat well-rehearsed phrases meant to aid in your recovery like everyone else was doing. You just needed him to listen and tell you your life wasn’t over.” 

“Okay.” 

Sam reached across the counter and cupped a large hand over yours. There weren’t many people you would let see like this, or at all. Since the funeral, you haven’t been getting out much. You were sure Wanda called Sam and tattled on you after your meltdown in the market yesterday. It wasn’t a big deal. Yes, you cried over an apple pie. It was not the first time someone has gotten upset over baked goods. It happened every day, you were sure of that, and no one made a fuss until it happened to a widow. 

Widow. You really hated that word. It was a stupid word, and you refused to use it. However, the incident in the market didn’t help the way people were looking at you, widow, or not. You had thought things would be slightly easier once you talked to Bucky. He’s always had a way of calming you and putting your restless soul at ease. You waited on a call from Bucky, but none came. He hasn’t even sent a letter. That might have been part of the reason for pie-gate 2020. 

At first, you were angry. He was ignoring you? After everything? You lost your husband, the man’s best friend, and Bucky couldn’t be bothered to pick up the damn phone and make sure you were okay? But you realized he was grieving, too. It was different from yours, but it didn’t make it any less real, and he had a right to do it in his own way. Besides, Bucky probably didn’t know what to say. You wouldn’t if it was you because there was nothing anyone could say or do to make this okay. That was when your anger turned to tears, and that moment just happened to be in the bakery, in front of twenty or so people. 

It wasn’t like there was some guidebook on how you should grieve and move on with your life. You wished there was, but there wasn’t a ‘right way’ to navigate this. You had to take one day at a time and handle each moment as it came along. 

“I’ve loved him for most of my life am I supposed to just stop now?”

“No one expects you to stop loving Steve.”  

“It feels that way sometimes,” You mumbled weakly. 

Sam gave your hand a gentle squeeze, but he didn’t say anything else. You needed to sort through what you were feeling on your own, so he was letting you decide what you needed; from him and yourself.  When you finally looked back up, he could tell by the murky waters in your eyes, you were still just as lost as the day Steve left you. Only now, there were expectations for improvement and time limits on how long you were allowed to stay floating in the dark. Even though it had only been thirty-six days, eight hours, and forty-three minutes, everyone was tired. Your friends and family wanted to move on. After all, they didn’t lose their other half. They were tired of being sad, and you were tired of pretending it was okay. 

“How am I supposed to move on without him, and what? Just start over?”

Sam gave you a small smile and tightened his grip on your hand. “I don’t know, but we are all here to help you figure it out.” 

“Not everyone is here,” you grumbled petulantly. 

Bucky didn’t have a choice, but he did. He could have been the one to come home, and while you were not upset with him for sending Sam in his stay, it still hurt. The three of you had been close, and once upon a time, you were closer to Bucky than you were Steve. He was the first person to talk to you when you moved to town, and if it wasn't for Bucky, you never would have met Steve. 

“He will be home at the end of the month and from what he said last night. I think he’s hoping it would be okay for him to stay here.” 

On the one hand, you were relieved to know Bucky was coming home. You needed to see him, to hear his voice tell you that Steve would want you to move on and be happy. On the other, Bucky hadn’t called you. He called Sam instead. That stung. 

“Why?” You slowly pulled your hand back and crossed your arms over your chest, shielding yourself from Bucky’s reasoning and maybe a little bit from Sam, too. “Why does he want to stay here?”

“Well, he didn’t re-enlist, so I think he’s trying to figure out what his next step is and what he’s going to do with the rest of his life and… I think he wants to be close to Steve and maybe to keep an eye on you. You could help each other, you know?”

“Right,” you snorted. 

As if anyone could help you, let alone the friend that left you in the lurch when you needed him most. You didn’t know what Sam was putting in his morning coffee, but Bucky didn’t want to help you do anything. He has made that very clear from the moment Steve died.  

“I doubt he wants to be here with me, and what exactly are we going to help each other do?” 

Sam sighed and shook his head, “Grieve, Y/n. Grieve and move forward.” 

That would be easier said than done.

Previous // Next 

#past!Steve Rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #alternate universe #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #tw: character death #tw: military death #tw: death of a spouse

[goldeneyedgirl]

2019 Fic Meme

My end of year fic meme, compiled from some old Livejournal fic memes that I do when I write stuff. I do this for fun, because I like looking back at what I have and haven’t written, and what keeps popping up again.

It’s meant to be silly fun, and if anyone else wants to do it, PLEASE DO. I don’t want to tag anyone and put pressure on you in case you don’t want to/don’t think you have enough fic/hate memes. 

Twilight

12 Days of Fic-Mas (Twilight, WIP) Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, bonus.  Twelve days of fic extracts, previews, and drabbles focusing on Alice Cullen. Encompasses Folie A Deux, The Only Girl in the World, JessaminexAlice, Omens, Asylum, The Long Way Around, The Dark and the Unknown, Hybrid, Runaway, All These Broken Things, & The Unexpected Second Life of Mary Alice Brandon 

Shadow to Light  (WIP) (Alice/Jasper, AU Angst, PG) In 1918, Jasper lures the newborn known as Mary-Alice back to Monterrey. He is lost to her before it even begins.

Total number of completed stories: Lol.

Total word count: 33,304 words were posted. 

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?  Look, I just... 2019 was a wash in so many ways. I played a lot of Fortnite really badly. I would have loved to be able to say Shadow to Light was finished, or that I was posting Hybrid regularly or something, but I can’t. I wish, wish, wish I had posted more but alas. 

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? Outside of Twilight, I dabbled with some reader/Ben in the Umbrella Academy, and I was messing around with some Janet/Wanda in my personal MCU canon. As for Twilight, I think my stuff got a lot darker? Like, we’re down the rabbit hole here, and somehow Alice ended up being the most feared vampire in the Americas? Yeah. 

And there’s the Avengers/Twilight fic that is simultaneously three fics and one fic because I cannot make Executive Decisions and I can’t decide if I like 1. Alice knowing Bucky from Before Jasper; 2. Alice knowing Hawkeye from when he was a kid in the circus and being how Natasha and Clint got out of Budapest, or 3. the Volturi hooking up with Hydra and ... yeah, I think this one is legit the most second-most one of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever written. (I’ve been filing today, and boy howdy have I written some actual shit.)

What’s your own favourite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? That’s like making me pick a favourite child. I’m always so, so proud of Shadow to Light, and I love The Dark and the Unknown ‘verse, and Hybrid is just hanging out there, chilling and ugh. My babies <3 

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?  TwilightFicMas was a huge risk! I wasn’t sure anyone cared unless I was posting more Shadow to Light, and people were SO nice and enthusiastic. So I guess the lesson is shut up and share more fic? Get out of your own head and spend time in the community because fandom isn’t meant to be lonely?

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year?  I’m starting a graphic design business AND my masters in design in 2020, so I figure fic is going to be my downtime next year. Ideally, I would love to get STL finished, Memento Vivere’s sequel going, and have a few of my shorter pieces posted. I would really love to get some of my original stuff ready for publication, but I’d be happy studying, running my business, and doing the fic thing for 2020.  

My best story of this year: That’s up to the readers, I guess. Everyone seemed obscenely enthusiastic about The Unexpected Second Life of Mary Alice Brandon, though, and I was not expecting that at all - I was actually upset that I left the ‘dud’ fic for the last day of FicMas. 

My most popular story: Shadow to Light. Everyone is so nice and enthusiastic and polite about that one. I’m not used to it! Fandom for me is usually me sitting in a corner, doin’ my obscure thing, and maybe one or two people will read what I’m working on.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:  I think everyone was super enthusiastic and nice about everything I posted this year. Maybe Folie A Deux? But like, that reflects more on me and the excerpts that I chose to post rather than the fic or the audience itself. 

Most fun story to write:  The Unexpected Second Life of Mary Alice Brandon because that Alice is so happy; I have this playlist for it that is super upbeat and funky. 

Hybrid is fun because that Alice likes to torment Jasper. He understands Edward on a molecular level once Alice arrives. 

Most Sexy Story: The Dark and the Unknown is the front-runner for that, because most of the sexy goings-on in Shadow to Light is very much focused on the psychological and emotional aspects rather than the physical.

Story with the single sexiest moment:  The Dark and the Unknown. I am still deeply uncomfortable writing sex scenes, so this may be the only one I ever do. The implication of a blow job in Shadow to Light nearly kill me tbh.

The forest behind the school is silent; just her breathing, and the slight wind. No birds or wildlife, none of the hum of the traffic or of the school.

They don’t undress more than necessary, her skirt slid to her hips, and he takes her roughly against a tree, flakes of bark falling into the dirt. She is hot and slick, and silent as he fucks her, his fingers digging into her hips, a growl rising in his chest. She is every bit his fantasy; the smell of damp flowers, the sweetness of her flesh, her willing supplication. His fingers tear through the lace of her tights as he grips her thighs, and the heels of her shoes must be bending, she’s digging them into the backs of his legs so hard.

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:  The Long Way Around makes Jasper and Alice’s relationship pretty fucked up, and tbh I look back at it and really struggle with how dark it is and how dark Jasper’s character becomes. There’s a reason that Shadow to Light is the ‘official’ version - it’s a better balance, and I actually think Maria is a lot more interesting in Shadow to Light as a villain with complex relationships with both Jasper and Alice to the point where none of them really want to have to kill each other, but there is a lot of hate on both sides. 

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:  That’s a hard question. Shadow to Light definitely did that because I had to consider what happened when you took Alice out of the picture, and how that changed what happened, and considered the inter-family relationships. So much of canon relies on Alice’s visions that things can’t just happen the same way. 

Hardest story to write: Shadow to Light isn’t easy because I have such a specific idea of how it plays out, how it ‘looks’ in my head, and because Alice is so fundamentally different to canon. More innocent when it comes to normal interactions, and so controlled because it meant life or death - but she’s still got to be Alice in a way that people can recognize. It also has to sound right? If I can’t get the right turn of phrase for one scene, it has to be put aside until I can work it out. 

 All These Broken Things is hard because I started it back in, like, 2014ish and my writing and understanding of the characters and canon has changed so much - plus there are a few sections that came to me quite early in the writing, and now sound really out of place, but are such a strong linchpin for the story that I have to rework them in. It’s a good kind of hard, though, because I’ve improved so much, my ideas and goals are more refined. 

Most disappointing:  Omens is a little bitch, honestly. I started it for a fic contest and kept going to explore Alice’s human life, and it doesn’t quite feel like my writing? It needs reworking, and be a little less obvious because I think the ‘four horsemen of the apocalypse’ is a good theme for a Human!Alice fic. 

Easiest story to write: Depends on my mood; Hybrid is great when I’m in kind of a ‘girls kicking ass’ mood and boot up my action girls playlist.

Biggest surprise:  Hybrid started as a love story that was basically ‘yeah, let’s make this shit super dramatic and overwrought’, and turned into this actual story with a huge focus on family and relationships. I can’t remember why I decided Alice’s father had a husband except that I was thinking about small town ‘otherness’, and LGBT+ people can and are still considered ‘other’ in these spaces. 

Then you add in Alice and Cynthia who are basically in the same boat but have been separated for their entire lives. Alice has knowledge in her corner, whilst having to fight through foster care, abuse, and hospital; whilst Cynthia has lived a very normal but privileged life as the daughter of a mixed-race same-sex couple in a very small town. I went full-hog with this, and added in an extended family, because I really hated how canon went balls-to-the-wall to isolate Bella from everyone, including Charlie. 

Like, this thing is a monster, and whilst I plan to sit down and rewrite the outline (which dates back to 2016, and I hate the ending of), I stopped outlining at 65 freaking chapters. 

Most unintentionally telling story:  I think this question that still confuses me finally gets a decent answer in The Dark and the Unknown - Jasper is seeing most of it from his perspective, and there isn’t a ton of dialogue. I’ve tried to avoid an info-dump, but it’s meant to be quite supernatural in tone, and focusing on vampire senses and gifts enhances that. 

Story I’d like to revise:  All These Broken Things wins that one. Due to the age of the piece, there are some pacing and tone issues in later chapters that are the reason I haven’t formally posted it. 

Story I didn’t write but will at some point, I swear: Oh man, I really want to finish A Thousand Years of Solitude, which is a Tanya fic. I’m really happy with what I’ve got so far, but it sounds smarter and more layered than it really is, so I’m kind of stuck. 

Mad World because Romani!Alice is super sassy and taking 0% of Swan or Cullen bullshit - I think 90% of my fic is just me going, “yeah, that’s not how normal people react.” And I’m a sucker for gothic horror. 

What else? Aww, Against A Wall which is AU Human Jasper coming from the shittiest home, and Alice finding him. It’s meant to be short, and another one I have a really clear idea of how it needs to work. 

And the one where Alice’s gift is a sentient power that pushes her to follow it; that Bad Things happen if she doesn’t; that Renesmee was always Endgame for Something, and Alice was a key piece to get that result. Or the one where Aro takes Alice as a ‘guest’ for a period because of Edward and Bella, and Alice’s gift is basically broken. 

Good times. I have like 5 years of fic on this computer, we could be here for awhile. 

#my fic #twilight fic #meme #my writing

[spacerune]

Meruem invites Pouf to play a game of Gungi to improve his skills :D

Thank you so much for the ask! I laughed and smiled so much at this I don’t think Meruem would ask Pouf to play Gungi for that reason, but I thought of another. I hope you think it’s fun!

This fic is completely silly, fluffy, and takes place in an everyone lives AU. I tried to be in character for everyone, but I took some liberties :)

(Not beta-read)

***

Meruem stood for nearly five minutes at the door to Pouf’s room listening to the somber and tormented violin that emanated from it. He found the music to be breathtaking, but he also felt concern for his guard. Pouf was deeply troubled and had been since the palace invasion. Meruem knew why, but he was unsure of how to address it. He promised himself he would treat all of his guards with more care and compassion, but Pouf was a special case. He was more stubborn, emotional, and passionate than the others. Care and compassion alone might not be enough to console the morose guard.

This day, he figured he would try something new.

“Pouf,” Meruem called to him.

Pouf jumped from his seat in the window sill and nearly dropped his violin. “Forgive me, you startled me, Your Majesty.”

“I didn’t mean to surprise you. If you have a moment, may I ask you something?” Meruem continued.

Pouf placed down his instrument and kneeled. “Of course, Your Majesty. I am here to serve you. I am at your disposal whenever you need me.”

Meruem had been easing up on his guards for weeks. He had been giving them more free time and inviting them to join him and Komugi for various outings. Youpi and Pitou came to recognize the growing informality of their relationship, but Pouf had become more obedient than ever. Of course it didn’t help that he never joined in on any of those outings.

“That’s not necessary, Pouf. You may relax. I wanted to ask if you would like to play a game of Gungi with me?”

Pouf raised his head and widened his eyes. Meruem could sense the abrupt change in his guard’s emotions. “Me? With you? You want to play Gungi with me?”

Meruem couldn’t help but laugh at Pouf’s baffled response.

“I don’t mean to defy you, sir, but wouldn’t you rather play Gungi with Komugi?”  Pouf questioned.

“Komugi is sick with the flu. She wanted to play so badly, but I told her she needed to rest in order to get better. She is finally sleeping now. But it got me to thinking, maybe you might like to play. You are a strategic thinker, I think you would enjoy the game.”

Pouf shook his head, “Sir, but I…I’m sure I would swiftly lose. It won’t be enjoyable for you.”

“You know the rules, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do but-”

“You might be better at it than you think!” Meruem smiled.

Meruem detected another change in his guard’s emotions. Pouf almost seemed happy. In turn, Meruem started to believe his strategy was working.

For the first time in months, Pouf smiled. “If you really think so. I am sorry for questioning your order. I will play Gungi with you until your heart’s content.”

“Pouf, this isn’t an order. I just thought this would be a fun way to spend time together. And just maybe I’ll learn some new tricks in Gungi.”

Pouf’s happiness blossomed into glee, but it was a glee tinged with a touch of uncertainty and anxiety.

“Your Majesty, I am so happy to hear that you wish to spend time with me. I am honored, but please do not get your hopes up, I doubt you can learn anything from me.”

~~~~~~

The king and his royal guard faced each other at the Gungi table. Pouf still wore a smile, and Meruem couldn’t be more pleased to see his guard in better spirits. In no time, both players had arranged their pieces on the board.

“Pouf,” Meruem said before the game began, “are you sure that’s the initial setup you wish to have?”

Pouf’s eyes shifted between his king and the board. “Is it a bad arrangement? I thought this was a decent start!”

Meruem shrugged and smirked, but did not answer the question.

“Oh,I see! This is a psychological tactic! You are trying to make me uneasy from the start so I will be unable to think clearly as I play!” Pouf chuckled, obviously satisfied with himself and the conclusion he came to.

Unfortunately for Pouf, it was not a psychological tactic, Meruem was trying to give his guard a hint before the game started. The game was over within minutes and Pouf never stood a chance of winning.

“I hate this game,” Pouf mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Meruem asked.

Pouf unfolded his arms and loosened the pout he had been sporting, “Oh, I was just recalling that I was right. You couldn’t possibly learn anything from me in Gungi. Your skills are far superior to mine. I was foolish to ever try.”

“But did you have fun?” 

“It was frustrating and now I feel I made a fool out of myself in front of you, sir.”

His loss in Gungi, caused Pouf to become melancholy once again. It was alarming how easily his mood was swayed by trivial successes and failures. He thanked the king for his time and moved to excuse himself, but before he could leave, he noticed Komugi in the entrance to the room. 

“Pouf, would you like to learn how to play? I can show you! It’ll be fun!” Komugi said as more snot than usual oozed from her nostrils.

Meruem glanced up in alarm, not just because Komugi should have been in bed, but also because Pouf was evidently not in the mood to deal with her. It was a poisonous mix and Meruem did not want to be forced to adjudicate between the two.

“Komugi, you should rest. The flu is not to be taken lightly,” Meruem said gently.

“I’m fine! I promise! I’ll just sit and give some pointers, it won’t take much strength,” Komugi pleaded from the doorway.

As Komugi spoke, Pouf hastened to leave the room. He walked swiftly, but it was not swift enough to avoid an unhappy encounter with a robust sneeze on his hand and arm. Pouf froze, scowled, and clenched his fists.

“Pouf!” Meruem shouted before anything else could transpire. “She did not mean to sneeze on you. It was an accident. Do not be mad with her.”

Sighing, Pouf begrudgingly obeyed his king. “You are correct. Nevertheless, people with filthy viruses should be careful where they spread their infections.”

As Pouf left the room, Komugi called after him, “I’m sorry Pouf! I wasn’t thinking!”

Meruem approached Komugi and lifted her into his arms. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just a sore loser. But he is right, you shouldn’t be wandering about. Let’s get you back to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The following afternoon, Meruem approached Pouf’s room, but rather than the sound of a violin, he heard Pouf exclaiming loudly about something.

“That stupid woman,” Pouf cried as he wiped snot from his nose, “first she makes me look like a fool, then she infects me with her filth. I’m not worthy of being a royal guard if I am so easily defeated! That filthy, horrible, stupid-”

“What stupid woman would that be, exactly?” Meruem called from the door.

Nearly choking on his own breath, Pouf kneeled immediately.

“Your Majesty!” he screeched and then coughed, “Please forgive my insolence. I have no right to refer to her that way. I am merely frustrated at my own failure. I am a royal guard, and yet here I am, sick with the flu.”

“I am going to tell you exactly what I told Komugi. Please just get some rest. I already knew you were sick. I checked on you this morning and you were asleep and hot with fever, so I decided to bring some things to help you feel better.” He placed a tray by Pouf’s side with hot tea and medicine.

“Your Majesty,” Pouf’s eyes watered and his lips trembled, “you are not supposed to be the one serving me. I’m supposed to serve you.”

Meruem patted Pouf on the head and said, “I’ve recently decided that I want to be kinder to my guards. So if I want to serve you when you are sick and being stupid, then so be it.”

Pouf had no words, only tears of joy.

“I do have one order, however. You need to stop being rude to Komugi.”

***

I hope you enjoyed this silly fic

#hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter spoilers #meruem #shaiapouf #komugi #i hope you think this is cute #fluff #and dumb stuff #i included a head pat #and lots of snot

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Londerland Bloodlines -- Tower Assault

Hey, I said this AU was on my mind -- and with the release of the newest (pre-alpha, admittedly) gameplay trailer for Bloodlines 2, that's unlikely to change anytime soon. So -- let's have some fic! :D Today's offering was inspired by a previous “updating the verse” post I made, where I talked about a change I thought of regarding Alice's final assault on LaCroix's tower -- rather than going in the front door and fighting her way through all those guards, she manages to get herself some climbing equipment and scales the damn building while Obfuscated. As you might imagine, this is the last thing LaCroix is expecting when he tells his elite guards (and Chunk, here called Officer Norris because that’s his voice actor’s name) to watch out for her. . .

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

"Officer Norris? Has there been any sign of our – miscreant?"

"Uh, no, Mr. LaCroix!" Norris chirped over the intercom. "Haven't seen hide nor hair of her! Promise I'll let you know the moment she comes by."

"Very good, Officer Norris. Thank you."

"Uh, Mr. LaCroix?" Norris got out before he could release the button. "Not to, you know, pry into stuff that ain't my business, but – why is it you want me to keep her out all of a sudden? You weren't really clear on that before. And us in the security business – well, it's important we get our facts straight, ya know?"

"She betrayed me, Officer Norris," LaCroix replied, letting the words roll off his tongue with silver smoothness. Not that he needed to waste such talents on Norris, but – practice. "She betrayed quite a lot of people, actually. She's been selling secrets to other parties, making deals with unsavory sorts. . .and I have reason to believe she's recently caused the death of a potential business partner of mine."

"Oh wow! That is – never would have thought it of her! She's always seemed like a bit of a tough cookie, but the kind with a creamy center, you know? All molten chocolate and–"

"Focus, Officer Norris," LaCroix said, rolling his eyes. Mortals and their obsession with food. His eyes flicked over to the sarcophagus. Then again – I know what it's like to anticipate a meal.

"Yeah, sorry, Mr. LaCroix. Er – so, if Alice is this dangerous, shouldn't we, you know, call proper 9-1-1 and all that? I got some buddies in the call center–"

"I assure you that all the appropriate measures have already been taken," LaCroix cut in before Norris could go on another ramble about his "cop friends." "There is no way Miss Liddell is leaving this city without facing justice for her crimes. If she does come here, you have my full authorization to use lethal force."

"Right you are, Mr. LaCroix." Norris sighed. "Hope it doesn't come to that, though. Man, and here's me, thinking she's a pretty sweet girl once you get to know her. . ."

"The cruelest wolf can mimic the friendliest dog, Officer Norris. Remember that."

"Sure will, Mr. LaCroix. And you can call me Chunk, you know!"

LaCroix winced. "Given our relationship, Officer Norris, I don't think that's appropriate."

"Oh, yeah, yeah. . .well, anyway. I'll give you a call moment I see her."

"Thank you, Officer Norris." LaCroix released the intercom button, leaning back with a sigh. "To think I employ someone like that," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Now that Bach's little group has been – disbanded, I should give him his walking papers." He smirked, one fang peeping through his lips. "Though I suppose it doesn't really matter, does it? Not with what's in our future."

Melech nodded shortly, then glanced at him, eyes questioning. "Oh, she'll come," LaCroix said, steepling his fingers in front of him. "She will most definitely come. That rabblerouser Jack will have told her by now I'm responsible for all her woes. And has she not made it very clear, during our last few meetings, that she wished our – alliance, shall we say, to be at an end? The girl is a Brujah trapped in a Malkavian skin. She must be itching for a chance to take out her temper on me, and damn the consequences."

Melech tilted his head, lips slightly pursed. "Yes, I called the Blood Hunt, but would you trust the average Brujah or Gangrel on the street to take her out?" LaCroix responded, looking up into that stony face. "After the miracles she's committed? May I remind you that she has destroyed both the local chapter of the Society of Leopold – including one of my personal enemies – and the heart of the Los Angeles Sabbat? Tasks that were beyond your capabilities? And there was that news report the other evening, of the massive wolf found crushed to death in the Griffith Observatory. Somehow, I doubt that was the work of Nines Rodriguez – though it still worries me that we can't confirm his Final Death." He sighed, then waved a hand. "Well, I suppose if he does turn up alive – so to speak – it will make the Anarchs happy. And so far they seem willing to believe that Alice has thrown her lot in with Ming Xiao and her nest of snakes. So long as they remain enraged enough to drive those ridiculous excuses for foreign vampires out of my city, I shall be content. And then. . ." He looked again at the sarcophagus, anticipation clinging to its every chip and crack. "Then we will make plans accordingly."

He pushed back his chair and stood up, walking with lazy grace to his favorite spot in front of the window. Los Angeles stretched out before him, twinkling in the dark. He reached out, longing to scoop it up and capture it in his fist. "A shame, really – she could have had it all," he mumbled, flexing his fingers. "I was just beginning to realize her worth as an agent. To survive everything she did, to accomplish so many difficult tasks as a mere fledgling. . .I will give Fish this – he picked someone worthy of being an eighth-generation vampire. If she'd only been a bit more deferential, a bit less – well, her. . .we could have done amazing things together."

Melech rumbled an agreement. LaCroix sighed. "But, of course, she refused to cooperate. To let her full potential grow under my guidance. To accept the wisdom of her elders and betters. No, she had to go it on her own – to forge down the path of the fool and the malcontent." He chuckled briefly. "At least I have the pleasure of knowing that the Anarchs don't trust her either. From what I've heard, she had an early falling-out with Nines, and the rest of them find her as irritating as I do." His brow furrowed briefly. "Perhaps we really did drive her to the Kue-jin. . .no, she's too smart for that. She'd know they'd never actually accept her." He laughed again, a little louder. "What a silly girl, to reject any and all that could help her! She must feel quite alone on those streets." He leaned toward the window, drinking in his city with his eyes, running his tongue over his fangs. "An apt punishment for the hubris of the newborn."

"God, you love the sound of your own voice, don't you?"

LaCroix recoiled backwards, the scream of a little girl ripping itself from his throat. On the other side of the glass, Alice rolled her eyes, adjusting the harness she wore. "As if getting up this bloody tower wasn't grueling enough," she continued, bracing her legs on either side of the window frame. "What exactly are you compensating for? You're not that short, and I have it on decent authority that your interest in your manly bits should have waned with the Embrace." She shrugged, bending her knees and adjusting her grip on her rope. "I'll leave the question for the primogen to debate. Right now – for putting up with all your posturing and other various pieces of bullshit, I believe you owe me your life. In the most direct sense possible."

With that, she pushed off, sailing into the air – then came rushing back, thickly-booted feet held out in front of her. LaCroix scrambled to safety under his desk as the window shattered, sending shards of glass flying. Melech raised his massive sword to shield himself as Alice rolled to a stop. "Ah – gah – GET HER!" LaCroix managed to shriek, waving one arm wildly in her direction.

His sheriff, fortunately, was quick to comply. He flung aside his sword and coat, spreading his arms wide as he called up on his dark Disciplines. Moments later, his human form morphed and twisted, stretching itself into the terrible gigantic bat LaCroix had only seen twice before. Alice gaped, eyes wide, one hand on her harness's release. "What–"

Melech shrieked at her and flung himself into the air. His talons locked around her arms, dragging her back out the window and snapping the harness like it wasn't even there. "Yes – NO!" LaCroix cried after him, suddenly conscious of the incredible violation of the Masquerade. Too visible, much too visible – but she couldn't be allowed to survive this night – "The roof!" he screamed. "Take her to the roof!"

Melech squealed and wheeled around, dragging his dumbfounded passenger up to the highest point of Venture Tower. LaCroix huddled under his desk, arms around his knees, trying to control his trembling body. It's all right, he told himself firmly. It's all right. Melech will take care of her on the roof, and we'll let the morning sun dispose of the corpse. And – and we'll come up with an appropriate story for the masses later. An – an advertising gimmick gone wrong. A Batman cosplayer gone mad. Some sort of – of mass hallucination from swamp gas carried on the wind. We'll make it right. We'll find the key. And I will never have to worry about any of this ever again.

. . .God, I hope he wins that fight.

#londerland bloodlines #fanfic #'Melech' is the Sheriff for those not in the know #the guy doesn't have a name in canon but #well he's LaCroix's personal guard #surely his EMPLOYER would know his name #not to mention it felt weird just constantly calling him 'The Sheriff' #as our best guess at his clan is Nagloper #a Tzimisce variant from Africa #I looked up likely African names for him #melech is short for abdimelech #which according to the site I used means 'servant to kings' #seemed appropriate #basically this is just me having fun with Sebastian being such a pompous ass #and then giving up all attempts at dignity the minute Alice startles him XD #what can I say I am amused :p #also Alice couldn't get away with skipping the ENTIRE Sheriff boss fight #gotta pay your dues like the rest of us girl #at least she managed to avoid all the bullshit before it #queued

[just-come-baek]

Wedding Fever 2

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Themes: smut (later on) | fluff | a bit of angst | wedding!au | friends to lovers!au | fakedating!au | SLOWBURN

Word count: 7k

Summary: Baekhyun is the best man, and I am the maid of honor at our friends’ wedding. Although should we be excited about our friends getting married, we seem to complain a lot more every time we meet for another preparation. Maybe it’s a bit fanciful of me to think that, but I hope, somewhere between choosing flowers and venting about the reception prep, he’ll like me just as I like him.

previous part | Masterlist | next part

***

“This is hot,” Baekhyun stated as he breathed out, hoping the air could cool his mouth; the peppers on the top of pizza were indeed fiery–they burnt my throat even though I picked them and threw them back into the box instead of eating them.

“You should’ve told me, I’d have ordered something else,” I replied, quickly handing him my can of beer since he had already drunk his. “In my defense, they usually put fewer of them; it’s the first time they delivered pizza this spicy.”

“No; it’s okay,” Baekhyun sighed, probably wondering if his taste buds were to regain their sensitivity. “I like it that way,” he added as if trying to convince me, but I sensed he was bullshitting.  I was positive he didn’t want me to consider him less virile, which in this case was absurd, given the fact I had been pining for him for the longest of time.

“Okay then,” I shrugged, reaching for my beverage, trying to focus on everything except for the indirect kiss Baekhyun and I just shared. You’re a grown ass woman, not a teenager; get a grip for fuck’s sake! I scolded myself, hoping that Baekhyun didn’t notice me cringe at my thoughts. He didn’t want to get romantically involved with me as it was right now, but if he found out what was going on inside my head, he’d be downright crept out.

“Do you have more of these?” Baekhyun asked, tilting his head toward the empty can of beer, as he needed more to wash down the piquant taste off his tongue. Rolling my eyes, I stood up, willing to bring him the desired refill. “Thank you! You’re the best!” Baekhyun cheered the moment I handed him another can of alcohol.

Ask me out if you really mean that!

Being too afraid to speak my mind, I casually smiled, feigning nonchalance. Baekhyun had never seemed to be interested in me, so what was the point in scaring him away now with my stupid feelings? We almost became friends, and so far, it was more than enough for me.

“Do you want me to change the channel?” I asked as I reached for the remote. Since we had come here, no one bothered to switch the channel, and although none of us enjoyed the TLC’s current programme, we both watched it with what seemed an utter ardor.

“Nah, I don’t really mind,” Baekhyun shrugged, putting another pizza slice into his mouth, this time picking out the peppers. “It’s oddly addicting,” he declared, and I couldn’t agree with him more. It wouldn’t be the first time I impulsively binge-watched it.

“I know, right?” I agreed, but then trying to miss him with the misery, I checked the TV program on my phone, looking for something more interesting to watch. Maybe, a fine horror movie was being played, or at least a crappy TV show which would be perfect for a drinking game. “Oh my God; they’re airing Zoolander 2. It’s amazing; have you seen it?” I asked excitedly at the thought of watching one of the dumbest comedies ever made with Baekhyun.

“No, I haven’t, is it any good?”

“Is it any good?” I repeated his question, yet intonating it differently, sounding very much offended. It was a silly movie, but frankly, I’d rather consider it as an amazing satire. “That’s the best film ever to be produced.”

Without further explanation, I quickly reached for the remote to change the channel. He had to see this, as no words would be used to describe all the reason why we should watch it.

When the first scene was to roll up, we ended up laughing. And then, the process repeated for the whole duration of the movie. At some point, my stomach started to ache due to the excessive laughing, while Baekhyun shed at least one tear of light laughter.

“Oh my God, it’s 4 o’clock already?” Baekhyun spoke as he squinted, trying to read the time from his wristwatch. The film was over, and I was yawning, but the time I had spent with Baekhyun was of high quality. “It flies so fast when you have fun.”

“Should we go to sleep?” I asked, standing up, wanting to carry the dirty plates to the kitchen. “You can take the couch or sleep with me. I guess we are already beyond that.” I spoke, though it wasn’t an invitation. Cleaning is not my favorite type of activity, and if my living room was untidy (which was an understatement), the bedroom was in absolute disarray.

“I guess we are,” Baekhyun agreed, and I scolded myself for even proposing that. He was willing to share a bed with me, but on the other hand, it was to be the last time he agrees to something like that. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow? Or maybe even a pair of pants?”

“Sure,” I answered, giving him a shy smile. I sleep in an oversized T-shirt, so there wasn’t any problem lending him one of them. And as in for pants, my brother must’ve left a pair when he had been over two months ago. “Just give me a second.”

“I can help you,” Baekhyun replied, snatching the pizza box from my hands, offering assistance. “That’s the least I can do in exchange for you letting me crash here tonight.”

I couldn’t reject his helping hand. Not when his eagerness just bought me an extra minute or two to get my bedroom cleaned, and though I wouldn’t vacuum or make the bed, at least I could throw my dirty clothes and empty potato chips bags under the bed.

When the room looked sufficiently decent, I opened the wardrobe, looking for clothes in which Baekhyun could change. Quickly, I pulled a simple mustard T-shirt and grey sweatpants for him, hoping they would fit him. My brother is a bit taller than him after all.

When everything was ready, I spun on my heel wanting to join Baekhyun, but he beat me to it, as he was already standing in the doorway, surprising me.

“Jesus Christ!” I yelped, pressing my hand against my rib cage. “Don’t ever sneak on me like that! Oh my God, I didn’t hear you at all.”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun replied sounding both shy and apologetic.

“Anyway, here are your clothes,” I started, pointing to the bed where I had thrown the T-shirt and sweatpants for him, “I should be back in a minute,” I added, passing by him in the doorway.

“Which side of the bed is yours?” Baekhyun asked before I locked myself in the bathroom.

Frankly, both sides of the bed are mine; I sleep like a fucking starfish – it’s one of the perks of being single, hogging the entire bed, and I can’t seem to complain about that.

“It doesn’t matter, I can take the right side,” I replied, and Baekhyun nodded. He didn’t seem particularly sad about my choice, so I assumed he preferred the left side anyway.

***

It had been a week since our little movie night, and no surprise, Baekhyun hadn’t called or texted me. Thankfully, I never had high expectations which could get crashed with the unintentional silent treatment he had been giving me, and since this was the outcome I had expected, I decided not to mop over it.

He must’ve been busy with work.

However, Jiwoo and Hongbin invited me to a restaurant, and I had a feeling Baekhyun would be there, too. Besides, it wouldn’t be as bad as meeting at their place; unlike their cute apartment, the restaurant would close eventually. Moreover, the lovebirds hadn’t bothered us recently, and I somewhat missed venting to him.

The supper was scheduled at six what gave me an hour to change and arrive at the elegant restaurant. Unfortunately, when I got home, I stood in front of my wardrobe, having no idea what I should put on. It was scorching hot outside, so after a lot of thinking, I opted for a simple summer dress and a pair of flats with a matching purse.

It was a perfect outfit–I didn’t look like a try-hard, yet it looked good on me.

I showed up at the restaurant fashionably late; the moment I stepped through the doorframe, I saw the lovebirds without Baekhyun who must’ve also been running late. Jiwoo noticed me almost instantly, beaming at me, waving her hand enthusiastically. She was finally wearing her engagement ring; it was huge and it shined beautifully, reflecting the rays of sunshine.

Even a blind person would notice someone had just got engaged.

I felt a slight pang of envy, but at the same time, I was so happy for her to find someone like Hongbin. They were perfect for each other, and though I wish I was dating, most preferably Baekhyun, I genuinely supported their relationship.

In response, I smiled brightly. Quickly, I reached their table, taking a free seat in front of Jiwoo, as she and Hongbin were sitting next to each other. “Hi, have you ordered already?” I asked, as I hung my purse on the back of the chair.

“No, we just got here,” Hongbin answered, pulling his hand over Jiwoo’s backrest. “We’re still waiting for Baekhyun. Can you tell me why I had a feeling that the two of you were going to be late?” He inquired as he adjusted his wristwatch, noting how much time I was late, showing his veiny forearm. Hongbin was ridiculously handsome, but I never lusted after him; he was Jiwoo’s, and I respected her, though I had to appreciate his beauty.

“By five minutes!” I argued back, sensing that Hongbin was going to blow the whole thing way out of proportion. I just got here, while Baekhyun was still missing; if he wanted to be nitpicking, he ought to pound away at Baekhyun. “Just let me live, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you going to be late for our wedding, too?” Jiwoo teased me, and I felt bad; she didn’t sound as if she was playful about it. It seemed as if she considered sacking me from the maid of honor position unless I changed my attitude.

“Don’t even joke like that!” I scolded her, trying to dodge the bullet which she aimed directly at my heart. Her words were meant to hurt me, maybe even teaching me a lesson. However, I wasn’t one to be fooled; I wasn’t going to feel guilty for something I didn’t do. “Fancy ring you’ve got there,” I commented, changing the topic to a more pleasant one. “It looks pricey,” I admitted, as she stretched her arm, letting me have a closer look.

“You have no idea,” Hongbin hummed matter-of-factly, as he smiled at Jiwoo who was enjoying the admiration. He looked as if he was accustomed to that kind of behavior, and I got that; life with Jiwoo was like that; she had the entire spotlight, keeping everyone out of it at all costs. “Did you talk with Baekhyun?” Hongbin asked, and I looked at him in shock.

“No? Why should I?” I asked nonchalantly. Baekhyun was his friend, not exactly mine. Besides, Baekhyun had never reached out to me except for that one time.

“He mentioned you hung out the other time,” Hongbin mentioned, and Jiwoo looked at me excitedly, as she couldn’t wait for us to meet one on one, so I’d share all the details with her. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to tell, and if anything, she would be disappointed. “Well…I thought…never mind, he’s here. Ayo, Baekhyun!”

Quickly, I turned my head around, thrilled to see him after so much time apart. It was a shame he didn’t feel the same way about me, but I’d live. Sooner or later, I’ll find someone who will appreciate me.

He was so handsome it actually hurt me to look at him. He was sitting beside me in his perfect glory, yet I couldn’t even touch nor kiss him no matter how much I wanted to. Baekhyun must’ve just left work; he was wearing suit trousers and a white suit shirt with his sleeves rolled up, revealing his beautiful forearms and an expensive wristwatch. His hair looked nonchalantly messy, as if he had combed it but then run his hands through it a couple of times, giving it the boyish vibe.

“Sorry I’m late, the meeting prolonged a bit.” He confessed, adjusting his tie which now loosely hung around his neck. “Have you ordered already?” In unison, everyone shook their heads what made him sigh in relief. “That’s fantastic. I’m starving!”

Shortly after his arrival, the waiter came to our table, writing down our order.

“So what do you want from us?” Baekhyun straightforwardly asked as he leaned back, getting more comfortable. It was clear we met today because they had a request, but we had no idea what that could be.

“What makes you think that?”

“Am I wrong, though?” Baekhyun inquired, making Hongbin’s challenging grin fade away; he knew his friend way too good to not be fooled by the fancy façade.

“Well… we wanted to drop the bomb after the dessert,” Jiwoo casually spoke, glancing at Baekhyun. What kind of bomb? She’s knocked up for real, yet now she gathered enough courage to bring that up? Doubtful–we had had too many glasses of wine for that to be true.

“Just shoot,” I urged her impatiently. The sooner we started the discussion, the sooner it’d end. Besides, I doubted her request could be worse than what we had already fulfilled.

“Hongbin mentioned you used to play piano,” Jiwoo began, as she looked at Baekhyun who already knew what their plea was going to be. “And since you’re Hongbin’s best friend, we thought you could play at our reception.”

When I thought I couldn’t be more into him, they had to drop such a bomb. Though I didn’t want to admit it, I started to believe Baekhyun was perfect for me, and the thought that we could never be together upset me enormously. I shouldn’t be doing that, but deep inside, I knew I was going to compare any new-met man to Baekhyun. Even worse, it was beyond obvious; no one would ever be as good as Baekhyun.

“Well…we don’t mean the entire reception, but I’d be glad if you could play something for our first dance,” Hongbin explained slowly, making Baekhyun sigh in relief. “What do you say? We would really appreciate it,” he added, kissing Jiwoo’s temple.

“I mean…I could. I haven’t touched the keys in years, though.” Baekhyun honestly admitted as if trying to shirk from the responsibility thrown his way. “My skills must be pretty rusty by now,” he added, emphasizing it wasn’t a good idea to involve him in such a significant moment of the reception; especially when his amazing skills were questionable.

“You have a whole year to get into it again,” Jiwoo remarked slyly, and I smiled, knowing she had an answer to every single Baekhyun’s excuse regardless how creative he could become. That’s how she rolled, and Baekhyun had better get used to that. Whatever she wants, she gets, and it wouldn’t change.

“And why am I here?” I cleared my thought before voicing my question. Why did she invite me over if she didn’t want anything from me? I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time she did something for the sole purpose of making me feel bad about myself. I don’t know why but sometimes she just had to prove she’s better than me. Flashing her engagement ring, so its bright light hits me in the eyes would be another example.

She can be a real bitch sometimes.

“Oh, right, I’d forget,” she reprimanded herself, as she smiled at Hongbin, happy that she could announce the news. “Hongbin and I are leaving for the weekend to check the hotel in which we want to hold the reception. And we were wondering if you could stay at our apartment to look after our baby,” she finished, and my smile faded away.

Baekhyun had got such a commendable task, whereas I was to take care of their dog.

Moreover, Jiwoo’s plan wasn’t to stroke her ego by making me feel like shit and given the fact I assumed that makes me a bitch, too.

Perhaps, I was going too hard on her. I mean…that accident had happened a long time ago, she should already be redeemed from her fault.

“Sure, no problem,” I smiled sheepishly at her, glad the waiter brought our order, saving me from further embarrassment which was just bound to happen if we continued to talk.

***

On a Friday evening, I arrived at their apartment, and when I stepped inside, they gave me the key and a list of my duties for the weekend. I had never had a dog, and the lovebirds knew I was inexperienced, so a few tips came in handy.

“Call us if you need anything,” Jiwoo said, and they were gone. I’d be too if I had a fiancé with whom I could test out all positions in the hotel’s bed. Unfortunately, single people like me were to watch over pets rather than have a romantic weekend outside the town.

The moment they closed the doors behind them, I dropped my bag on the floor, plopped down onto the couch and turn on the TV, so I could hear the noise when reading the tips they had left me. Take her out for a walk at least twice a day. Easy. Make sure not to forget to feed her and give her some water. Obviously. She loves belly rubs and any other form of affection. Okay?

So far it was easy.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” I asked her when she ran up to the couch, standing on two feet, her front paws scratching my thigh gently with manicured claws. Excitedly, she wagged her tail, and I smiled, thinking maybe I should get myself a dog, too. Then at least it would love me. “Where does Jiwoo keep the leash?” I asked the dog, although I didn’t expect to receive a reply. Besides, I knew that Jiwoo never used the leash because the dog was incredibly obedient to her, and I didn’t want to risk it losing somewhere.

After what seemed a muffled bark, the dog ran away to the hallway, and I followed her. When I saw her a moment later, she had a leash in her mouth, and I was impressed.

Is every dog so intelligent?

Quickly though clumsily, I attached the leash to the dog-collar. Then, I put my shoes on, and we were ready to go. Thankfully, their apartment was located near the park, and we didn’t have to take a thirty-minute stroll which would be necessary if I took her to my place. The dog was frightened of new areas, so bringing her to my flat was out of the question.

Within an hour we were back.

It was a peaceful evening. I opened the bottle of wine and watched the ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’ almost from the beginning. And when Bridget was exchanging emails with Daniel, the dog approached me again, looking at me with its beautiful doe eyes. I didn’t have the heart to let her stay on the carpet, so I picked her up and placed on my thighs remembering the daily dose of belly rubs she was entitled to receive.

“You know…I’ll probably be like Bridget,” I spoke to the dog, caressing her muzzle. “You know…minus the part where Daniel and Mark have that epic fight. And all that romance.” I added, yet feeling somewhat comforted. The dog was fluffy, and it just emitted love, and I couldn’t even be sad at the prospect of my spinsterhood. “Maybe I should get a dog, too? Are all dogs as lovely as you are? You’re right; you’re the cutest.”

In peace we continued watching the movie; between the two of us, I seemed more interesting in it even though I had already seen it at least twenty times. And when it ended, she was sleeping soundly on my laps, and I couldn’t bring myself to move, afraid I could wake her. She looked even cuter with her eyes closed, breathing soundly.

Carefully, I reached for the bottle of wine, pouring the alcohol into my glass. It was already warm, but since I have already drunk the rest of the bottle, it didn’t matter that much anymore. Sipping it slowly, I picked up my phone to check the time and possible notifications. It was surprising to see a text from Baekhyun.

The Cutest Butt | 21:37 | they didn’t tell me what they want me to play!

The Cutest Butt | 21:37 | have you got any ideas?

The Cutest Butt | 21:38 | i seriously need help

The Cutest Butt | 21:40 | i see you’re active

The Cutest Butt | 21:40 | …

The Cutest Butt | 21:47 | fine, it’ll be your fault

The Cutest Butt | 21:47 | cotton eye Joe it is.

Wow, he even typed the period. He must’ve got pissed with my unresponsive ass. On the other hand, it served him right for not contacting me earlier. Why does he only text me when he needs something? That’s disappointing.

“Why is he like that?” I asked the dog who was still sleeping comfortably on my thighs. “Why am I like that? He could ask me to help him rob a bank, and I’d probably do it,” I shook my head, putting the wine glass away.

Me | 23:58 | sorry, I’ve been busy

Before I could double text him, he beat me to it.

The Cutest Butt | 23:58 | doing what?

The Cutest Butt | 23:59 | what’s more important than your friend’s wedding?

Me | 00:00 | none of your business

Maybe it was a bit harsh, but I had just watched Bridget Jones’ Diary and drunk a whole bottle of wine, I was emotional. Moreover, he deserved it. Why did he have to involve me when he could phone them? I tried to get over him, and it’d be much easier if he just ignored me without giving me false hope!

Me | 00:00 | literally anything is more important

I added playfully, giggling at the response. I was the worst friend Jiwoo could have.

The Cutest Butt | 00:01 | don’t be surprised when Jiwoo sees the screenshots

Me | 00:01 | is that a threat?

Me | 00:01 | you gotta try harder than that

Me | 00:02 | you won’t take me out that easily

The Cutest Butt | 00:02 | will see about that

The Cutest Butt | 00:03 | btw cotton eye Joe sounds not that bad

The Cutest Butt | 00:03 | I mean the piano cover

Me | 00:03 | …

Me | 00:04 | wow

Me | 00:04 | maybe you should play ‘their’ song?

The Cutest Butt | 00:05 | and that would be???

Me | 00:05 | how should I know?

Me | 00:06 | besides you should be texting them

Me | 00:06 | not me

The Cutest Butt | 00:07 | but you’re Jiwoo’s friend

The Cutest Butt | 00:07 | you know her better than anyone

The Cutest Butt | 00:08 | and that means you must know their song

The Cutest Butt | 00:08 | women talk about everything, no?

The Cutest Butt | 00:08 | I bet you know every detail about Hongbin’s dick

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, he was right; Jiwoo had shared this kind of information with me, though I’d really appreciate it if she hadn’t.

Me | 00:09 | I wish I didn’t

Me | 00:09 | and don’t you think you’re getting off the topic?

The Cutest Butt | 00:09 | you’re right

The Cutest Butt | 00:10 | so… the song

Me | 00:10 | I don’t remember?

The Cutest Butt | 00:10 | how can you not remember???

Me | 00:11 | you have no idea what crap she texts me daily

The Cutest Butt | 00:11 | ???

Me | 00:12 | rlly

Me | 00:12 | she once told me her co-worker had a nice ass for a Gemini…

The Cutest Butt | 00:13 | …

The Cutest Butt | 00:13 | nah

The Cutest Butt | 00:13 | you’re lying

The Cutest Butt | 00:13 | it can’t be

Oh, how much I wished it was a lie. Unfortunately, the reality was different, and it’d be nice if she spared me at least half the horoscope bullshit.

Me | 00:16 | I just looked through her spotify playlists

Me | 00:16 | ‘Ain’t for sunshine’ shows up like in all of them

The Cutest Butt | 00:18 | should’ve figured that out

The Cutest Butt | 00:18 | everything must be about her

Me | 00:19 | yeah

Me | 00:19 | that’s her

The Cutest Butt | 00:20 | thanks

The Cutest Butt | 00:21 | I don’t know what I’d do without you

My heart skipped a beat; why did he have to say that and confuse me even more? I am suffering when he’s so kind to me. Can he ignore me like any other uninterested man? Then it’d be much easier to get rid of this frustrating attraction.

Though texting him was fun, I decided to leave him on read. It was late anyway, so he’d assume I fell asleep. Besides, what should I reply to that?

Gently, I tried to pick up the dog, but I wasn’t careful enough, and she woke up. She didn’t seem mad though, so I sighed in relief, letting her run to her dog bed.

***

On Sunday, I got a call from Jiwoo. Clearly, they had been fucking (she never said it, but it was a reasonable assumption) the entire weekend, and they hadn’t done any reconnaissance, so they decided to prolong their little trip for another day. According to what she told me, they had already acquainted their bosses prior informing me, expecting I’d be delighted to stay longer at their place with their dog.

“Okay, but don’t be sad when your dog loves me more,” I retorted, and she didn’t even bother to protest; her dog long forgotten, since Hongbin, was and was going to remain her top priority for a very long time.

“Actually,” Jiwoo started, making me curious. She surely sounded as if she was plotting something. “Hongbin isn’t yet convinced about the location, but I love it. You should’ve seen it; you’d fall in love with it immediately.” Jiwoo explained, and I sighed, expecting her next words.

She liked the place, and I would be surprised, more like gobsmacked, if she let Hongbin have the wedding of his dreams. Occasionally, she could act pretty selfish, and apparently, her reception was going to prove my speculation. And if Hongbin dared to object, being the stubborn woman she is, he’d have to give in any way, or else she might even cancel the wedding.

“There’s going to be a wedding tomorrow, and I want him to see how great it’s going to be. If some peasants can have a magical wedding here, think how amazing mine could be!” Jiwoo spoke, and I hummed in agreement, knowing it was the easiest way to talk to her since she would try to convince me until I’d capitulate. “He has to see the final design, and he’ll agree. He always agrees with me,” she chimed in, and I rolled my eyes since Baekhyun had been right all along; Hongbin’s a complete henpecked husband!

“Okay, so when are you coming back exactly?” I asked, needing the details. Taking care of her puppy was great, but I wanted to sleep in my bed which was way more comfortable than their couch.

“On Tuesday around noon the latest,” Jiwoo declared, and I hoped it was her final word without a possibility of prolongation. Though her cute dog was keeping me company, I missed hanging out with my other friends at my place–inviting them over to Jiwoo’s would be, in my opinion, an abuse of hospitality. “Oh, and one more thing, do you think you can do me a favor?” I’d be foolish if I didn’t see it coming.

“What is it?”

“I’ve just booked the resort on the 13th of June. Would it be too much if I asked you to book the chapel on our behalf? I know the date is like eleven months away, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?” Jiwoo announced, and I giggled at her diligence which was almost out of her character. Now, I’m sure Hongbin isn’t the one she’d allow to get away.

Since I was Jiwoo’s friend and not Hongbin’s, I didn’t ask further questions such as ‘What if he doesn’t agree?’ or ‘Are you sure you don’t want to discuss it with him first?’ Instead, I just nodded, inquiring for further detail. “Which chapel do you have in mind?”

“Thanks! You’re the best! I’ll text you the address.” Jiwoo exclaimed excitedly, and I rolled my eyes. Whenever I need a favor, Jiwoo’s going to be first I’ll ask. She owes me that much. “See you on Tuesday! Take care of my baby!”

“Obviously,” I spoke, though she ended the call before I said goodbye.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I threw my phone on the couch. “Jiwoo is crazy; you know that, right?” I asked her dog, as I leaned forward to pet her. “It’s Sunday, what do you want to do?” The dog just wagged its tail, as I wondered what activity we could take up.  I had already taken her for a walk; her bowl was full like always since I didn’t want her to starve even if that meant overfeeding her. She wouldn’t gain weight under my supervision after all. Besides, I’d rather have her overfed than starved.

“Do you want to watch television?” I inquired, reaching for a remote. She didn’t seem to mind, so I turned it on. Unfortunately, when I found something interesting to watch, I heard a doorbell, interrupting my quality alone time. Grumpily, I raised from the couch, and shuffled towards the door, annoyed at whoever was waiting outside the apartment.

Yawning, I unlocked the door and swung them open.

“Baekhyun? What are you doing here?” I asked, perplexed, though he seemed to be even more shocked to see me.

“I meant to ask you the same question,” he replied, still confused upon seeing me instead of Jiwoo or Hongbin. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking care of their dog. Don’t you remember Jiwoo asking me to do that?” I explained, referring to the dinner we had had last week. “And what do I owe the pleasure if you don’t mind me asking?” I urged him, sending him a warm smile.

“Today is the poker’s night,” Baekhyun started, as he stared behind me, studying the apartment. “Where’s that bastard? I was supposed to pick him up.”

“Their stay at the resort prolonged. I was on the phone with Jiwoo a while ago, and she said they would be back on Tuesday.” I explained slowly, but my tone didn’t seem to calm him down. Baekhyun was mad at Hongbin for not notifying him earlier, and I couldn’t blame him.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Baekhyun stated, as he pulled out his phone, texting Hongbin furiously.

“Do you want to come inside?” I proposed, taking a step to the right, giving him space to walk through the doorframe. Still staring at his phone, he walked inside, and I locked the door. “You know…we can empty their fridge in revenge,” I proposed, and Baekhyun hummed in response.

“Sorry. What were you saying?” Baekhyun asked me, as he plopped on the couch. He was too focused on yelling at Hongbin via text, so he completely ignored my existence. It hurt, but only a little bit. I tend to ignore my surroundings too when I’m engrossed in doing something.

“Do you want to eat everything out of their fridge in revenge? They have some pretty expensive wine in there which was tempting me to drink it, and now, I have an excuse to pop that bottle,” I spoke, smiling mischievously, and Baekhyun cocked his eyebrow, thinking about my proposition which was irresistible.

“I’m always down with wine, especially when it’s expensive,” Baekhyun casually replied before he stood up and went to the kitchen with me. “Let me,” he offered his help when he saw me struggling with the corkscrew.

“Thanks,” I smiled sheepishly, as I took a step to the side, my eyes studying his handsome figure. “I’ll get the glasses.”

“You know…it’s fortunate that I’ve run into you,” Baekhyun started, as he poured us wine, handing me one of the glasses.

“Why is that?” I asked out of curiosity.

Baekhyun wanted to meet with me? Why? He made it crystal clear that he wasn’t interested.

“I’ll tell you when you’re drunk, you’ll be easier to convince,” Baekhyun said ominously, and I creased my forehead, wondering what he wanted from me. It sounded way too suspicious for my liking, but on the other hand, it was Baekhyun; he couldn’t want anything serious from me. It couldn’t be as scary as he made it out to seem.

“You seriously overestimate my alcohol tolerance,” I commented, and Baekhyun smiled. “I’m tipsy after two beers; you can ask away,” I urged, looking away, too shy to look into his beautiful eyes. “Unless you want me to help with another wedding, I think you have a high chance of me saying yes,” I added, and Baekhyun seemed to relax. “So…what is it?”

Baekhyun scratched the back of his head, thinking deeply of how to voice his request.

“I really shouldn’t be asking you that, you have better things to do,” Baekhyun hesitated, but I smiled assuring him I was okay with helping him regardless of his problem. “To cut the story short, my parents are ecstatic about Hongbin’s wedding, and my mother was asking me about my girlfriend, and in order to get her off my back, I lied that I have one, and now, she wants me to bring her to my father’s birthday party,” Baekhyun explained the situation, and I nodded in apprehension.

Thankfully, my parents aren’t like that. The idea of me being a crazy cat lady must have grown on them by now. It was sad, but it was still better than having them force me to start dating. Judging my Baekhyun’s current mood, I was right. My fate was slightly better.

“I don’t really have female friends except for you and Jiwoo, and since Jiwoo is out of the question, I was wondering…I was wondering if you could…you know…pretend to be my girlfriend?” Baekhyun stuttered, and it was adorable. I looked at him in confusion still digesting the information, and when Baekhyun noticed my blank expression, he stared at me carefully, afraid that he crept me out. “You’re my only hope.”

“What?” I blinked, not having wrapped my head around it yet.

“It’s stupid, right?”

The main problem of fake dating was that eventually, one party falls for another, yet given the current circumstances, it was a little too late for that; I was already doomed, and the prospect of Baekhyun catching feelings for me seemed highly unlikely. It couldn’t get worse than it already was, so in some weird way, the deal between us happened to be mutually beneficial. Baekhyun’s mother would stop pestering him about dating, and I’d have a glimpse of how dating Baekhyun would be like.

“It is,” I started truthfully, “but you sound like it’s your only option.” Baekhyun nodded, hoping that I’ll agree. “You owe me so much for that!” I spoke, and Baekhyun smiled so brightly the corners of his mouth almost reached his eyes. In glee, he approached me, wrapped his hands around my waist, and picked me up, swirling around.

“Thank you so much!” he exclaimed ecstatically, and I placed my hands on his shoulders for safety when he began to lose his strength. “You’re the best!”

“I know,” I added casually, reaching for the glass of wine, downing the alcohol. “And when that party is exactly?” I inquired as I sat on the couch, refilling the wine, whereas Baekhyun followed suit.

“This Friday,” he answered sheepishly, and I nodded my head, waiting for more details. Fake dating thing always comes with a thorough plan, so Baekhyun had better have everything thought through. “I said I was going to arrive around five. Also, my mother shouldn’t bother us that much. I warned her that we’ve just started dating, so I hope she saves the marriage and children discussion for another time.”

“Well…I hope she’ll like me,” I spoke my true doubts. Though being in a relationship with Baekhyun was not possible, it’d be nice if at least his parents approved of me.

“Of course, she’ll like you! Don’t even think otherwise,” Baekhyun replied instantly, making me smile; he wasn’t embarrassed by me, and moreover, he seemed certain I’d do a great first impression. Then the question was, why had he never asked me out?

“So you’ll work out all the details such as first date and the rest, right?” I inquired, and Baekhyun nodded, informing me he’s going to do all the work and all I have to do is to look beautiful and nod my head. “It sounds perfect to me.”

“Yeah, don’t bother that pretty head of yours, I’ll have everything covered,” Baekhyun confirmed, and I looked away, afraid he might see me blushing.

“Oh, and speaking of which, Jiwoo called me to book the chapel, do you think you can go with me? I don’t want to go alone.” I confessed, trying to skip the part of sill not convinced Hongbin; Baekhyun was his friend, and I didn’t want more drama to stir.

“Sure, I’ll pick you up after work.”

“That would be lovely.” And with that, we clinked our glasses, ready to empty the bottle and possibly as much food as they had inside the fridge. They owned us this much.

***

Me | 16:34 | got off work earlier

Me | 16:34 | no need to pick me up

Me | 16:34 | let’s just meet at the chapel

The Cutest Butt | 16:41 | ok

The Cutest Butt | 16:41 | I’m done too

The Cutest Butt | 16:42 | see you in a bit

By the time I arrived, Baekhyun was already waiting for me outside of the chapel, checking something on his phone. Judging by the vibration inside of my purse, he was texting me, but since I was already there, I didn’t bother to check the message.

“Sorry, the bus was a bit late,” I apologized, as I smiled at him.

“It’s okay, I just got here, too,” he replied, putting his phone into his pocket. “I saw the priest going this way, are you ready?” Baekhyun asked, and I nodded shyly, letting him lead the way. In silence, we walked into the priest’s office, my hands all sweaty without any reason.

We were standing in front of the doors, and Baekhyun looked at me as if he sensed how tensed I was. “I’ll make sure Jiwoo works twice as hard preparing my wedding,” I spoke bitterly, to which Baekhyun chuckled.

“Serves them right,” Baekhyun agreed, and when he saw me relax under his warm smile, he knocked on the door, and we both got inside.

“Hello there, how can I help you?” The priest asked as soon as he saw us enter.

“We would like to book a wedding date,” I said quietly, embarrassed.

“Ah, young love,” the priest sighed excitedly, confusing us with a couple. Unfortunately, it was nothing of sorts; we were only helping our friends. Though, I fully understood his assumption. “Every time I see a couple who wants to tie the knot, my heart grows a little,” he added, and I smiled awkwardly. “How did you meet?”

“Through mutual friends,” Baekhyun started, probably treating this conversation as a rehearsal for the weekend. If he managed to fool the priest, he could trick his mother, too. Or at least, that’s what I hoped. “I thought of ditching the meeting, but now I am so lucky that I didn’t,” he added, squeezing my hand, surprising me.

“It must be fate,” the priest concluded, and Baekhyun firmly nodded his head, agreeing with him, whereas I was still shocked by our interlocked hands, I barely paid attention to what they were talking about. “So what date do you have in mind?” The priest asked, and Baekhyun shook my hands, pulling me out of the daze.

“The June thirteenth,” I replied, smiling sheepishly.

“Is it an anniversary?” The priest inquired, as he reached for a book which seemed to be the register or the schedule. “I love when couples pick a date depending on an anniversary. Two weeks ago, a couple had a wedding on the day of the golden wedding anniversary of the bride’s grandparents. It was a lovely ceremony.”

I looked at Baekhyun, relying on him and his skill of improvising.

“It’s the day of our first date,” Baekhyun spoke, confidently smiling at me. Damn, he was good. I mean…if I didn’t know the sad truth, I’d definitely believe him, too. “When I saw her, I just knew I had to make her my wife,” Baekhyun added, and I rolled my eyes upon hearing the bullshit which left his mouth.

“The thirteenth is free,” the priest announced, and we beamed, “can I have your names?”

“Choi Jiwoo and Lee Hongbin.”

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun scenario #baekhyunee #exo smut #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #wedding au #friends to lovers au #fake dating #exo angst #exo fluff #exo scenario

[margarethelstone]

That Hopelessness of Mine

She was weary, she was sick, she was completely unable to focus. She, the Astrid Hofferson, the most hard-working student the University of Berk had ever taught, suddenly appeared to be perfectly indifferent to what was happening around her. Her life was an utter mess – and a ridiculously handsome, green-eyed stranger was the last person she needed to meet.��� Hiccstrid modern AU.

fanfiction.net / AO3

Chapter 4

“No, no, no… No!” she cried out in desperation a moment after her discovery, rummaging through her bag, frantically searching for the item she hadn’t even thought about half a minute earlier. "It has to be here! I put it inside this morning, and I had it with me at the University, it couldn’t just disappear. It must be here, somewhere!”

But it wasn’t.

Feeling herself on the verge of tears – again – Astrid grabbed her purse in both of her hands and turned it upside down, letting her belongings fall on the soft surface of the sofa, still fooling herself that it would allow her to find the wallet that was otherwise escaping her notice. She threw the empty bag on the floor right after and focused on going through its contents once more, and every next second just made her more convinced that it was indeed just another hopeless business.

“Alright, Hofferson, calm down,” she ordered herself eventually, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, hoping to at least get her own nerves under control. She wouldn’t resolve anything in a state of such panic anyway. “Did I really put it in my bag in the morning? Wasn’t that yesterday? I don’t use the bus and I didn’t visit the library today, so I really might have missed the fact that I didn’t have the wallet with me. Oh, and I haven’t eaten anything for the entire day, either -”

You did down that huge coffee in the afternoon, though, and it certainly wasn’t Ruff who paid for it.

“Oh, shut up,” she answered her own mind that apparently decided that she didn’t deserve that last resort of hope she was clinging to so fiercely, as she plopped down on a chair and slouched, hiding her face behind her trembling fingers.

She knew she was naive to think of it in this way, but it was just too much. Why did it have to happen to her? Now, when she had finally found some peace, when she had allowed herself to relax a little, this had to happen, shattering all of the prospects of spending at least a few idle hours without stressing over how pathetic she was. Now, however? No chance she would get any of that.

Her money, her tickets, her ID cards – they were gone, all because she couldn’t have crossed half kilometre long distance without losing her balance and falling on the ground like the miserable idiot she was.

She jerked up her head, eyes wide in astonishment.

Certainly, she must have left it there! Just a few hundreds metres away, where her bag strap had fallen off. Maybe she was being childish and naive again, but if she hadn’t noticed the wallet lying anywhere close to where she’d stood, it was more than possible that no one else had. It must have landed between the rotting scrubs that she knew grew next to the footpath in that particular place, and, apparently, neither she or her saviour was perceptive enough to have noticed it earlier.

Of course, her own silly agitation at the time didn’t help with that.

In a sudden rush of energy, Astrid jumped from the chair and hurried to the door, barely remembering to put on her shoes and coat before she left. Her hair was still wet and tangled, and she still didn’t have a hat to put on her head, but it didn’t matter. Right now all she cared for was her phone, her keys and this little bit of luck she needed so much.

Still, her wallet wasn’t there.

Not on the pavement, not in the bushes, not anywhere close to either of them. Like with her bag earlier this evening, she searched and searched, checking every inch of the ground twice, praying that she would at least find her ID cards if nothing else.

Screw the money she thought, pretending like she didn’t care, screw the tickets, the photos, the slim, flat flash drive I never used anyway.

Screw the green-eyed, handsome jerks that made her lose her common sense.

“What is wrong with me?” she groaned as the realisation dawned on her, making her despise herself more than ever before, clenching her fists and kicking the kerb, indifferent to the pain that spread over her foot in result. “He took it. Of course he took it. He played his role of a decent guy, gave me back all of the worthless notes and pens and kept the only thing worth keeping. And to think I was grateful to have met him today!”

Oh, she wasn’t pathetic. She was just plain, plain stupid.

“Did I really blush and stutter for this?”

Or maybe she simply was both.

She groaned for what felt like a millionth time that day and returned to massaging her temple, desperate to at least soften the pounding headache that was only growing with the passage of time. She no longer tried to fight her anger, knowing that it was the last thing that still kept her from giving up to the final frustration – frustration that meant nothing but tears and resignation, not to mention even worse physical condition. So she kicked, and she hissed, and she kept cursing the previous encounter that had undoubtedly lead to her current state.

It had taken good few minutes and a couple of snorts before Astrid calmed down enough to make any sort of decision. She looked around in the last impulse of hope. Nothing was there – and she painfully realised that it would remain in that way, no matter how much she wanted it to change.

Her sigh was almost theatrical this time.

“I really should stop that,” she muttered under her breath, tucking her lose hair behind her ear, brushing away her fringe that was getting in her eyes. She was surprised it hadn’t frozen by this time but then again, not much made sense on this sad winter evening.

Some December that was.

Refraining from scanning the area again, the girl turned around and, slouched under the heavy blasts of the howling wind, she took the first of the many steps towards her apartment.

Alright, she thought as she walked past a group of students who must have just finished the last of their classes. Alright. If that’s how it must end, then so be it. The best I can do is to get back inside and call the bank, the police, or whatever institution that could take any interest in me losing my documents. And then it’s bed, and it’s for real this time, and I am not letting anything else get in my way again -

Goodness gracious, she almost sounded as if she’d had anything to say about this.

“I do,” she drawled through her gritted teeth, gaining herself a startled look from a very surprised passer-by. She ignored him completely. “I might be talking to myself, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my mind, and until that happens, I’m the one deciding what and how to do about my life. And since I can’t do more than those calls, I won’t worry about it, not for a second longer. Good Lord, I really need some sleep.”

She reached to the pocket of her jeans in search of her phone, curious to see how much time this unplanned escapade had taken her, only to feel it buzz in her hand before she’d had a chance to have a good look at the screen. She frowned at the sight of her mother’s photo.

Ingrid Hofferson never called without a good reason.

"Mum? What's wrong?" she asked in lieu of a greeting, already sensing the familiar knot in her stomach that appeared every time she got nervous. Normally, a call from her mother would result in nothing but her surprise but feeling the way she did that day...

...she had already come up with the most terrifying scenarios.

"What happened?" she repeated before the woman on the other side managed to answer.

She heard her mother sigh in response. "Really, Astrid, can't a mother call her daughter without a reason?"

"You never do," was Astrid's quiet answer. She tried to sound calm but at the same time she was almost perfectly sure Ingrid already knew she was not. "We both know we're better off texting and you're always busy at this time of day. So, what's the matter?"

"Don't you be so sure, young Lady, or I'll make sure to call you every two days just to stir that confidence of yours. I may be getting old, Astrid, but it doesn't mean I don't know how to surprise my family. You should ask Dad."

"Mum," Astrid interrupted, the corners of her lips twitching. Her mother was way too cheerful - and naturally so – to be herald of any bad news and the girl felt herself relax at last.

"Fine," her mother muttered in a mock-offended voice. "There might be a reason this time. But I could still call you if there wasn't and there would be nothing special about it."

"Of course not," Astrid mumbled with a smile. "So, mum, are you going to tell me what that reason is or are you going to keep me in the dark until I burst with curiosity and beg you for details myself?"

She almost heard her mother grin. "That would not be an unwelcome change, you know. But as much as I'd love to hear you plead for anything, I don't have as much time as I wish, so I'll get straight to the point – do you or do you not recall meeting any tall, dark-haired, ridiculously handsome young man today?"

Astrid stopped in her tracks, astonished, unable to utter a word of response. Her mind was blank, except for one thought that kept ringing in it.

You've got to be kidding me.

"I – I don't" she stammered, somehow managing not to stop in her tracks as she did; again, the teasing expression that undoubtedly appeared on her mother's countenance was almost audible. "I mean, yes. What?"

"Well, well, looks like after twenty years of trying I've finally succeeded in rendering my daughter speechless," came Ingrid's merciless comment. "Even though I suppose it's mostly the man's in question doing."

"Why would you even ask me that, mum?" Astrid tried to regain some of her lost dignity. "This question itself is ridiculous, not to mention, awfully specific. So, why?"

"Because he's sitting in the other room as we speak. He came in about five minutes ago, claiming that he'd found your wallet on the pavement."

Now was the time for Astrid to halt.

"What?" was another educated exclamation of hers. "How?"

"He would not share any details except that he there when your bag fell on the ground and that even though you managed to gather most of it, you somehow missed the wallet – and that you'd left the spot before he noticed it himself. Now, I won't pester about how it's possible you didn't check for the wallet in the first place, because I know that things like that happen sometimes. What I want to know, however, is: how the heck could you run away from a man like this?"

Against herself, Astrid burst into laugh. "Mum, I swear, you're worse than Ruff sometimes."

"I suppose she already shared her thoughts on the subject?"

"Yes, and she was very straightforward about it, too."

"I knew there was a reason why I loved that girl."

Astrid chuckled again, and sighed. "Alright, your comments apart – why is he there? It doesn't make sense."

"I suppose he followed the only clue he had, which is the address on your ID. And as it happens, it's still your home address."

"Of course. But -" Astrid hesitated, feeling the sudden pang of guilt as she remembered all the accusations she had already made towards the guy who truly had done nothing but helped her. "You want to tell me he drove all that way to the suburbs just because of this?"

"Seems like it."

"Oh, brother."

She pressed her hand to her forehead. She felt so happy, and surprised, and a little lost for words, not to mention, more and more ashamed of how easily she had judged the chivalrous young man. And she still needed to decide what to do with the fact that said man was comfortably seated in her mother's living room.

"Okay mum, listen," she said eventually. "This is all wonderful news but if we don't make some decisions now, I will collapse on the ground from exhaustion in moments and nothing good will come for it anyway. I am too tired to come home today – so would you please just ask the guy to leave it with you for now and I'll come and pick it up tomorrow after classes? I'm sure he's dying to get rid of it, too."

"See, that's the problem," her mother opposed. "He seems determined to only give it back to you, personally."

Astrid felt her good mood die again. She did not feel like spending two more hours in a bus today. "Mum, it doesn't make any sense. Even if I wasn't tired, it would still take me way too much time for him to wait. I'd have to go back to the flat, get some money – I am sure he has better things to do."

"He doesn't want you to come, but to bring the wallet back to you."

"To me? Wait, you didn't actually give him my address, did you?"

"Of course not," Ingrid as well as snorted. "But he says there is no point in your coming here, since he needs to get to the centre anyway; he's pretty stubborn, you know. So... Maybe just name a place and I'll tell him to meet you there? Although honestly, he seems like the kind of guy that you could safely meet in your own flat. I wouldn't mind you seeing him like this, anyway."

"Mum!"

She heard her mother laugh openly then and only shook her head at her wonderful parent's antics. She resumed her stroll towards her block. "Okay mum, I'll tell you what: today has been horrible, and I feel like garbage, and I'm definitely not going anywhere right now – so if you could just send the guy to my flat, that would be great. And if he turns out to be a serial rapist and killer... Well, at least you'll know exactly how to describe him to the police."

#hiccstird #fanfiction #modern au #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #httyd

[ughlarries-blog]

“ I accidentally grabbed your notebook and I found a crap ton of gay writings/doodles and they’re amazing. Wait, are those combinations of our names all over the pages?” LARRY AU

School wasn't Louis' strongest suit, especially if it wasn't a subject he was interested in. Things like Maths, Geography, and Science didn't really scream his name like Gym, Art, and Theater did. As he worked his way into Uni, he decided he would only take classes based around the profession he actually wanted to be, a Drama Teacher. He didn't want to push his luck with his footie career, so he let it stay a hobby and focused on the goals he could actually make possible. Anyway, since this was his third year, he was pretty familar with everyone in his Drama class, all except the first years. Amongst those first years was Harry Styles, the sweetest lad he's ever met really. He was extremely polite and was actually really good at acting, which surprised Louis. It was clear three years couldn't compare to the gift Harry had. Thus leading Louis to develope a small obsession with the younger boy.

Louis always had a composition notebook with him. His name was labled inside the cover in the very bottom right hand corner, in very small writing in case someone did find it. What people didn't know was he kept that notebook around just to seem like the type who took a bunch a notes during class. Except, the notebook would only be filled in with little doodles of silly things, like a mini dinosaur eating his stick figure interpetation of his teacher and the occasional scenarios he wish would happen between him and Harry Styles, though he usually avoided writing his and Harry's names and replaced it with the names Leon and Henry. Though, that wasn't even the best part of the notebook, the best part lied between the constant doodles and little writings.

".. and Louis."

Louis' attention was soon on his professor, a middled age woman who was just about the same height as him. She could be mean, if she really felt like it, but overall she was a decently nice person who loved her students like family, well, until they didn't pay attention.

Louis hesitantly got up from his seat in the back, slowly going to place his notebook on the chair. It falls, going under the empty chair that sat between his and Harry's seat, but he doesn't turn around to pick it up. He stands infront of his classmates with Eva, a star student who could be a bit extra.. with everything. Louis gave her a coy smile before slightly moving his head to get a view of the older woman.

"This week we will be working on method acting. Today, Louis you will become a king who is struggling to keep everyone in his kingdom happy. Eva, you will be his wife. You just want children, although you know he is opposed of the idea right now.. And.. action."

From the back of the room, Harry smiled eagarly, halfway off his seat. He looked up to Louis, although he had never had more than a short conversation with him. He thought he was just so cool and one of the best actors in the class, in his opinion, and he always took notes when he was in front of the class. As the scene went on, Harry turned to his bag, looking for something to write in. He couldn't find his usual notebook for this class, though he could've sworn he brought it today. He looked around his seat, spotting his notebook under the seat beside him. He instantly opened it to a blank page in the middle, starting to write down little things he noticed Louis doing. When the scene came to an end, his clapping was a bit over exaggerated. He just couldn't help it, he was genuinely impressed.

When Louis sat down, Harry whispered a quick, "Fantastic job." Before he got called up next himself. He shoves the notebook into his bag before going to the front, where as Louis franticly searched around for his notebook. His face was turning red. This was literally a nightmare. Someone had stolen his notebook, probably on the verge to expose him any moment after class. His heart was literally pounding so loud he couldn't even hear the words that were being spoken in the front of the class. The constant looking back and forth and the shuffling through his bag led him to feel light headed. If that notebook really got in the wrong hands, he'd be done for for sure, which is why it felt like the end of the world.

Meanwhile, during Harry's preformance, he had kept an eye on Louis who he occasional made eye contact with. If Louis didn't give him attention, he felt like he wasn't meeting his full potentional. But, because his attention was also on Louis, he had noticed the older male's weird behavior in the back. So when he saw Louis suddenly go pale in the fast, he broke character calling out, "Louis, are you alright?" Without an answer, Louis falls back in the chair and his classmates rush over to assist him.

Louis is taken to the campus infirmory. It's around six when he begans to wake up. His vision is blurry at first, okay his vision was blurry for the most part on a daily basis, but that's to be talked about on another day. He goes to sit up, rubbing his aching head as he asks aloud where he was.

"Oh! You're awake, I didn’t expect it to take this long."

Seeing Harry at the end the cot he was on startled him at first. He wanted to ask him what happened, but he kind of pieced together that he had passed out in class.

"Don't worry, all your stuff is here..even your notebook. I accidentally grabbed it, thinking it was mine. I went through it while you were out, you are one talented person." Harry compliments him. "I really like your doodle of Mr. Butler getting his head eaten off by a T-rex, classic."

Louis assumed Harry saw the page he prayed no one ever saw. Since he only brought up the T-rex doodle, he figured he didn't get that far. He gives him a weak smile at the compliment, breathing out a laugh. Harry went on and on about the other things he found in the notebook, like his writings. "I didn't know you wrote too! Actor, Artist, Writer.. what don't you do!" He told him he related a lot to Louis' Henry character. He also had told him that Leon and Henry had a lot of chemisty and that he didn't understand why he didn't let them have a magical ending. "-that's my hopeless romantic side talking, I love a good happy ending."

It was going on eight, the two still in the same place as before. Only this time, Louis was completely dressed and Harry was helping him get his stuff together.

"I wanted to say thank you, for staying with me." Louis says suddenly.

Harry just stares at him for a moment before his usual toothy grin shows, him telling Louis it was literally not a probably. Louis felt good about everything. Even though Harry went through his notebook, he didn't see the one specifc page he would literally die over if he did. Plus they talked so much that it felt like a friendship developed, which meant good things for their future. Just as the boys reached the doors of the building, they said their goodbyes and started off in whichever direction they were heading. Only a few feet away, Harry turns around.

"Wait, I wanted to say something; I saw a page in the notebook that had combinations of our names in it.. like all over the page. What was that about?"

Louis didn't look back, speeding off. "It's nothing!" He says in a shaky voice, causing Harry to giggle softly to himself as he watched him frantically leave. If only Louis knew, he had a page identical to his in his very own notebook. What were the odds?

#otp prompts #larry stylinson #larry is real #larry fic #imagine your otp #au #harry styles #louis tomlinson #one direction #gay #bxb #roleplay #fanfic #fandom #one shot #30 day otp challenge #1d #louis and harry #harry and louis #text #larry au #writing #harry #louis #niall #liam #narry

[peaky-yamyam]

The Only One - John Shelby

I know requests are busy, but would you mind doing an imagine with John being there for you after you breakup with your boyfriend. John had been begging you for ages to breakup with him because he was horrible to you (not abusive).

I decided to set this in an AU without Martha, because childhood sweetheart John/reader is my jam right now  👌

Things have been rocky for a while between myself and Walter, in fact I can barely remember a time when I was happy with him; any fond memories slowly extinguished by the arguments and accusations until the tiny flicker of anything good had finally burnt out. But the routine and my naïveté, coupled with the coos of ‘hasn't she done well, snagging herself someone respectable at barely seventeen years old’ from my mother had shielded me from the gravity of the situation.

It was that realisation which has given me the gumption to end things.

I had hoped it would be a easy break, that he’d be mature enough to accept the termination of our relationship with dignity, but that was an hour ago and he's barely stopped screaming long enough to take a breath.

“Two years I’ve wasted on you! I knew you were just a silly little girl! And to think I asked you to marry me!”

I scoff at the thought; a lifetime with a man I can barely tolerate.

“Is that funny to you? That I loved you enough to want to spend the rest of my life with you? You of all people!”

“You’ve never loved me! I don't think you even like me, I've always just been an opportunity for you, a way to get my dad on side to help out with whatever ‘business venture’ you'd cooked up!”

I hadn't realised I'd believed that until I'd screamed it in his face.

“Has John Shelby had anything to do with this?” he asks, his expression as if the whole thing makes sense to him now, that I couldn’t possibly have come this conclusion myself - of course it had to be prompted by someone else.

“No! I've made this decision myself, I'm sick of it all,” I shout, grabbing my coat. “This is over.”

“Good luck finding anyone else to have you!” he calls as I open the front door.

I choose not to answer, but his remark cuts deep and I can't stop myself from crying, the strength I'd used to keep the tears back for the past hour destroyed by his parting words. I hover for a second in the doorway, remembering that I had a reason for all this, but unsure whether they were enough.

At the muffled sound of a glass shattering against a wall inside though, my confidence in my decision swells and I set off - head down to hide my tears - towards my house.

I’m so focused on keeping my feet moving one in front of the other, the long walk allowing my thoughts to engulf me, that I charge straight into John Shelby.

He catches my shoulders and spins me to keep me upright.

“Woah, you that eager to see me?” he says with a chuckle, but his jovial tone does nothing to help my resolve and I crumple into tears, using his body to prop myself up. “Shit, what the fuck’s happened?”

I manage to choke out a muffled “Walter” through my sobs and John steadies me on my feet so he can look me over.

“What’s he done? I swear if he’s hit you I’ll fuckin’ kill him!”

“No-”

“Has he… did he force you-”

“No! John-” I take a deep breath and allow him to finish his once over, “-it’s over. I finished things.”

John relaxes and wraps me in a tight hug.

“Well thank fuck for that, gotta say, it’s long overdue. I’ve been telling you for-”

I cut him off with a fresh batch of tears that cascade down my cheeks despite my best efforts to keep composed.

“Hey hey hey,” he coos, placing his hands either side of my face, his thumbs wiping my cheeks clean. “Less of that. You did the right thing, you can't spend your life with someone who don't treat you right.”

“He never hit me, he would never-” Another bubble of tears cuts me off and John takes my hand softly in his, directing me down the alley next to us, providing a smidgen of privacy.

“Just because he didn't hit you doesn't give him a free pass to be horrible to you. You deserve to be with someone who treats you properly, makes you feel good, treats you to things. You deserve to be with someone who loves you…”

“I think that's more than anyone can hope for, John you don't get it, you’re a bloke, the world’s different for you. Walter had good prospects, I’d have had a comfortable life with him, more than comfortable. Our kids would-” I don't know whether it's the panic of losing a decent future or the thought of possible having kids with Walter that steals my breath, but I find myself struggling to fill my lungs, rapid intakes of air failing to calm me.

“Woah woah woah, calm down. Come here,” John says wrapping his arms around me again.

We stand in silence for what seems like an age, with John stroking my hair and swaying slightly. Without effort on my part I begin to calm down and nuzzle a little closer to John. In the whole time I’ve known him, his smell has never been something I can describe, no notes of anything particular other than the recent addition of cigar smoke, just John, but it always makes me feel better.

“I've messed up,” I mumble against his chest.

“No you haven’t. You did the right thing.”

“Who’s going to have me now? We were engaged for eighteen months, no one is going to believe that I'm still… You know…”

“Oh for fucks sake,” he says, pulling back to look at me but keeping his hands on my waist. “Who gives a shit if you slept with your fiance?”

“Everyone!” I shout back, my volume surprising me a little. I glance around to make sure no one's around before I continue. “I know the world's changing, but not that bloody much.”

John smiles and shakes his head.

“You've been hanging round with the middle class too much. When you find someone who actually loves you, it won't matter if you've-”

“I haven't,” I interrupt.

“I know that. But it won't matter because they'll see that you're more than that. They'll see that you're clever, and funny, and kind, and determined and fucking stunning, and nothing else will matter but making you happy!”

For the first time ever, John Shelby looks sheepish and in the silence that follows his outburst, his hands flit about himself; running over his lips, adjusting his hat and tie until they settle behind his back.

“John…”

“Look I'm not going to pretend that I'm not fucking over the moon that you've ended things, I've been trying to split you up from the start because I love you. I've loved you since you told me to fuck off when you were walking back from school and you were this high-” he gestures to just above his knee, “-and I wish I could be all gentlemanly and just wish you happiness and the best even if it's not with me, but I can't. Because I promise I’d do everything to make you happier than anyone else could, and I'd work till it killed me to make sure you had the best.”

“John-”

“You can tell me to fuck off but that's what started all this in the first pla-”

I cut him off with a kiss, his words finally organising my jumbled thoughts and making everything clear to me; I love John Shelby, and I have done for a very long time. I kick myself for never acknowledging it, for dismissing my feelings for him as just being ‘good friends’, but as his hands tangle in my hair and he presses his body against mine, I realise that John is all I've ever wanted.

“I love you too,” I say against his lips.

He grins and rests his forehead against mine.

“I know you're all big on the waiting till marriage stuff, but my house is just over the road and there's no one in.”

I slap his chest playfully and push him off me.

“Oi, i’ll take it back,” I joke, “we need to go slow with this, give everything with Walter chance to calm down before we make anything official. Is that okay? I know you think the whole ‘reputation’ thing is stupid, but-”

“Give me some credit love, I know it's important to you. I've waited over ten years for this, I’m sure waiting a few more months won't kill me.” He gives me a lopsided grin and pops a toothpick in his mouth. “Want me to walk you home?”

“Best not.”

“Well, you know where to find me when you're ready.” He pauses for second and fiddles with the toothpick in his mouth. “You know, in all the times I've ran this conversation round my head, I never thought you'd feel the same.”

“Well I do, and I feel like an idiot for not realising it sooner. How could it ever have been anyone other than you?”

John kisses my cheek and directs me out of the alley.

“Get home, tell everyone what's happened-” he catches me cringing at the thought of telling my parents about the cancelled engagement, and takes my hands, “- the sooner they all know, the sooner it'll all die down and then we can be together properly.” He hangs back in the shadow of the alley and leans against the wall, grin spread wide on his face. “I fuckin’ love you so much.”

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby imagine #john shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfiction #peaky blinder fanfic

[coolkat122]

The Day It All Went To Hell Part 1 (Voltron AOT AU Reader Insert)

Just so there's no confusion I'll only be using Voltron characters for this little four(?)shot series that I got the idea for this by the seeing a voltron AOT fanart and had gotten an urge to write this.

P.S I'm going to try to make this as different as I can while still keeping a few things here and there, you'll find out what I'm keeping and what I'm not as we go since I don't want to list them, it's more fun when you discover it rather than being told it but I am placing this here so there won't be any confusion. Enjoy your read.

__

The walls they form all around us to protect us, keep us safe from the Titans that wished to do us harm not much is known about the Titans only that they seem to only eat humans and the only sure way we know to kill them is to slice the back of their necks. But other things still remain a mystery to us like where do they come from? How do they reproduce? And so on, my Brother thinks that there must be a stork Titan flying around delivering Titan babies, his logic was if there’s a stork delivering human babies there must be one for Titans.

He’s strange like that but I wouldn’t change a thing about him, I thought as I watched him play with the little brother of my friend Romelle with some sticks they found pretending they were swords that they would use to kill Titans.  If you hadn’t figured it out that’s what he wanted to do when he was older, to be like those famous scouts he’d always talk about.

The two most famous ones were Zarkon & Alfor since they were the most talked about though he said his favorite was Gyrgan, I didn’t have one, I appreciated all of them but I just didn’t really like thinking about those things and the best way to do that was to not think of the any of the people that fought them since it pretty much goes hand and hand.

I don’t know if that’s what Bandor wanted to do as well since he never told and I never thought to ask, I know what Romelle wanted to do, she was looking forward to being a teacher where’s I… uh had no idea actually. Writer maybe? I heard that I have good handwriting maybe that could transfer over to being a good writer? I don’t know… I still have time to figure it all out.  

“It’s getting kind of late” I took my eyes off of the boys turning my attention to Romelle as she was looking to the sky that was now noticeably darker than earlier. “You’re right…” I hummed before getting off the log calling out to my brother, “it’s time to go Wally” The freckled face boy pouted as he walked over reluctantly, whining on his way that he didn’t get to finish off the last one.

“We’ll get him next time” Bandor reassured causing a grin that showed his missing tooth to appear on my brother’s face. “Yeah you’re right, he won’t get away that easy” Wally gave a thumbs up while I crooked my brow and asked a question that was slightly bothering me.

“How would you know it’s him?...don’t they kind of look alike?” Sure there were different types but from some detailed drawings, I saw by those that have fought them and it showed that they all mostly looked alike. “Only to a regular civilian like you two but to us scouts our eyes have been specially trained to pick up all sorts of things that would usually go unnoticed by the common folk” He pointed his thumb to himself &  Bandor both wearing proud smirks on their faces as if what they said were true and not just something they made up.

Okay I can see now where this is going to go I’ll bring up legit questions waiting for logical answers only to receive made up facts that he would think up out of the blue (at least I assumed they were made up on the spot, hard to tell just how much time he feeds into his imagination).

“Uh-huh, sure, let’s get a move on before we get a long lecture from Mom and Dad about being out so late” Romelle nodded as to back me up. “Alllright… C’ya Bandor”  Wally waved before running off over to my side, Bandor returned it while pretty much doing the same except it’s by his sister side rather than mine. I also said my farewells to my friend as we went our separate ways on home.

During our walk Wally was telling me the kind of Titans he and Bandor were ‘slayings' and how they were doing it with a bunch of made up moves I’m sure they wouldn’t actually be able to do in real life but I humored him by acting amazed (for now at least, I noticed Romelle would do it for her brother so I decided to do it to for the day).

“So we finally came up with a move that impressed you huh?” Wally bought up taking noticed that this was a first where I didn’t say how silly their moves sounded.

“Well, there’s a first for everything kiddo”  He puffed his chest out again with another proud smirk. “Oh, boy Bandor gonna want to hear about this” And this is why I don’t like humoring him, it gets to his head real quick (well I think this is actually a first but I have compliment him in the past and got the same results). “Uh-oh,” He stopped in his tracks causing him to be a few steps behind until I slowed to a stop myself staring at him with Confusion.

“What?” He showed me a fake wooden knife that was decently made as I started wondering where he got it from? Lord knows he can’t craft anything decent enough to save his life. “I forgot to return this to Bandor, when we were playing I pretend that I lost my blades while a Titan had me and this is what he tossed me” I now recalled seeing Bandor toss Wally something but didn’t really care assuming that it was just another stick or something.

“Why’d he toss you a knife instead of just using his gear to come to rescue you?” Wouldn’t that be better than using a tiny knife that probably wouldn’t have done any real damage?

“He couldn’t have he was out of gas and there was no way he would get to me in time I had to save myself” Right, of course, I rolled my eyes causing him to frown when he caught me in the act. “Besides it adds more tensions and risk at the situation if all I have to work with is a knife to fight for my life against a Titan” Yup makes sense to me.

“Okay well you can return it later, there’s really no rush” I reasoned as I looked to the darkening sky when my gaze turned back to him, his arms were crossed and he was frowning.

"But I want to return it to him now, please sis? You don't have to come with, you can just wait here and I'll go it would be faster that way” He pleaded with his puppy eyes, I really wanted to say no but eventually cave which made those forest green eyes light up brighter than the stars.

"Awesome, I'll be right back I promise" He shouted as he took off into the direction of Romelle and Bandor's home, I looked for a place to sit as I sighed at the thought of the long lecture we were definitely going to receive.

Not much time had passed about five minutes or so when the ground started shaking, I along with everyone else around turned ourselves to see where it was coming from and what we saw was worse than what we thought.

A Titan much bigger than the walls was peaking over at us looking over at everyone inside as its brown orbs lingered a little too long on a certain area and I'm not sure if I am seeing this right but when it did I...I thought saw some kind of emotion in its eyes... I think saw guilt.

I really don’t know but that guilt(if that's even what it was) wasn’t enough to stop it because a few seconds later big pieces of the walls went flying everywhere, crushing those it landed on. I was knocked down by the force and was almost out cold with how I hit my head if it weren't for some random stranger that spotted me and got me back up on my feet.

He tried to help me get to safety apparently Titans were coming in...the Titans...were.. coming...in! "WALLY!" I shouted as I realized that my brother wasn’t with me I tugged and pulled until my hand was freed from the man that was trying to take me to safety but I didn’t want to go not without my brother, my friends… my family!

I quickly ran as fast as I could desperately trying to find my brother, he was my top priority after that since I would already be so close to Romelle I’ll go to them before finally getting Mom and Dad, and heading to the boats. Would we make it in time? I don’t know all that I do know and care about is that I’m not doing it without my family.

"Hey, where are you going the boats that way, HEY KID!" I heard someone shout but I didn't listen to them I just kept running until I came to a stop when I saw a boulder blocking my path as I cursed, I was so close Romelle's home is just passed this boulder.

I looked over the boulder hoping to find some way to get by when I saw my worst fears come to life under the boulder was my brother Wally his forest green eyes that were once filled to the brim with life were now dull and lifeless...and they were staring right at me...

"N-no...no, noooo!" I repeated before screaming out falling to my knees as everything faded till everything around me just drifted away until all I could see was my brother's lifeless corpse, there were flashes in my mind of how he was when he was alive. Smiling, cheerful, a total goofball, always skipping out on his chores, never stopping about how he and Bandor were going to free us all of the Titans one day but now... none of that even matters cause none of it will ever come true...

My brother started to look like he was becoming smaller and further away from view until I couldn't see him anymore... now that I think about it the reason he was becoming smaller was because someone was pulling me away from him, my gaze dully looked at my hand since that's where I felt someone pulling me and then slowly followed up from the hand to their arm pass their shoulders till I reached the back of their head...

It was that boy that always gets in trouble at school, what was his name again? You would think with the number of times I would hear our teacher shout it in anger I would have it memorized by now but I seem to be drawing a blink...

He got us to the boats just fine and just in time too this was the last one leaving if I had missed it I would have been stuck here with the Titans, left for dead as something to snack on. When we aboard I slowly walked off over to a nearby corner to sit in.

From over in my corner I saw many different types of people those lucky to have escaped with their loved ones and those not so fortunate, some of them were like me just quietly sitting by themselves void of any emotions just a blink husk that was trying to adjust to the idea of the person they held dear not returning while most were outright crying over their lost.

"_____!" Two separate voices called my name as they rushed over to me Upon realizing who they were I snapped my eyes over in their direction when they reached me they quickly pulled me into a hug that I returned feeling relieved to see them alive and well.

I felt so many emotions at that moment, happy to see that my friends were alive and well but pain, grief from the loss I've experienced today, losing my home, my parent's whereabouts and fate being left unknown and my brother's death. All these emotions were going on inside me and I didn't know what to be focusing on the fact that at the very least my friends are alive or the pain and heartache of my brother's death, the uneasiness of not knowing what has become of my parents?

When Bandor pulled back he asked a question that I had really wish he hadn't. "Hey, where's Wally?" I didn't need to say anything my silence was enough to make them aware of my brother's fate, Romelle placed a hand over her mouth as she gasped. "Oh no..."

Bandor's eyes darken as he looked back to our fallen home and cursed. "Those bastards!" Romelle pulled me back into the hug while Bandor sat down beside me not saying anything as he just looked at his lap with his legs folded across one another deep in thought.

We stayed like this until the boat reached the safe zone within a new city, Galra city it was bigger than our city but it already housed a lot of people you could just tell by the looks everyone was giving that they weren't too thrilled to have more mouths to feed.

I wasn't the only one to notice this Romelle and Bandor did as well but tried to not let it affect them as we continued living here, telling ourselves that this was only temporary that the government would take care of it soon, they'll get our home back and take out those monsters.

I wanted to believe that as much as them but I didn't I just couldn't fool myself into it and as the days went by things were only made worse when word got back that not even the most famous of forces made it back in fact only one survived... Zarkon and rumor has it he came back changed since he was the only one of his friends that made it back.

Makes sense that he would be different after the people you worked with for years were slaughtered right in front of you while you were too helpless to do anything, I would hear a whisper that King Alfor was with them.

"Wait didn't he retire after becoming king?" One of the people in line in front of us asked as Bandor stared in shock he couldn't believe that they had failed, he and my brother looked up to them so much... everyone did, they were one of the few that picked scouts and lived to be as old as they are plus they were the only ones with the kill count that high.

The day word got out that they were going to clear the area everyone hopes went through the roof with chatter going around that if anyone could get our home back it was them...guess no one's getting our home back now, all hope for it was lost, you could see it in everyone's eyes.

"Yes he did but once he heard that one of his cities was lost, he couldn't find it in himself to sit by and do nothing though it would seem he should have searched harder" Bandor balled his fist as he glared at the people saying all of those nasty things, I could tell he really wanted to do something but didn't, he was too kind, it just wasn't in his nature.

Romelle, on the other hand, took it upon herself to correct their attitudes on the situation. "What is wrong with you people? our King just risked his life to try and help make things better and you treat it as if it were nothing? How do you think the princess would feel if she heard how her people treated her Father's sacrifice? How do you think Zarkon the man in charge of this city would feel if he heard you talk about his friend in such a manner?"  They looked pissed to be told off by a younger girl but seemed to give what she said some thought, they probably would get into some serious trouble if someone important had heard their talk lucky for them though it was just a bunch of kids instead.

We soon got our food and went on our way to find a nice enough spot to eat it though when we did find a spot and started chowing down Bandor was the only one not touching his instead he appeared to be deep in thought. "Bandor what's wrong?"

His eyes sadden as he stared into his meal. "They really are dead...I didn't want to believe it when we first heard it but it just keeps becoming more and more clear that they are when Zarkon came riding in on his horse alone and all banged up...it took a while to process that they lost"

"It's not the end of the world Bandor we'll get our h-" Romelle tried to cheer him up but Bandor interrupted.

"Romelle we won't they've given up I can see it in everyone's eyes" Romelle wondering if her brother was right took a look around and got her answer with each passing glance she took at those around her the more she realized that no one wanted to take the risk.

"But that's alright, I won't expect others to take back what we lost instead I'm going to step up in three months I'll be old enough to sign up for training and not long after I can go, I can take back our home, I'll make everything right again for you, for ____" His eyes cut to me last shining at the brim before they darken just a tiny bit as he looked down again "...for Wally" Romelle placing her food down to her left raised up from her seat.

"You can't possibly want to join after what happened to our brother, after what happened to King Alfor and the others? It's suicide!" Bandor copying Romelle stood up as well just a foot or two away from Romelle.

"We still don't know if brother is dead and even if he is that doesn't change that we can't live here forever especially as freeloaders they barely tolerate us as is but if I join they'll overlook us staying here since I'll be earning our keep" I was pretty much silent throughout their argument as I thought over more and more on what Bandor said.

Taking back our home... earning our keep... the more I thought about it the more I realized that I don't want to live like this nor do I want to live here, this isn't my home it's not where I belong... my place is back in Pollux town back where my brother and I grew up... I don't want to stay here longer than necessary.

"I'm joining too" They turned to me with widening eyes, Romelle stepping forward shaking her head as she tried to think of what to say but nothing she would bring up will change my mind, I want to go back home. I want to rebuild the home I lost... It may sound weird but I'll never feel truly at home until I get that place back.

"____, yo-you can't, think about what you are saying"  Bandor someone I thought would be on my side joined in with Romelle.

"I didn't mean for you to think that you had to join, I'll take back our home for us, you don't have to feel like it's your responsibility" I shook my head as I explained.

"It's not that, though I do feel like I should do it because that was my home too but that's only one part of the many reasons why I want to do this but the bigger part is because I want to go home, the one I grew up in even if I have to rebuild it from scratch I don't care, I just want it back" I could feel the tears started to flood my gates but I wouldn't let them through, I don't want to cry not anymore, I think I've done enough in private.

"I...I never thought of it like that" Romelle said quietly as she held her hands to her chest before looking determined herself. "Then I want to join too" Bandor snapped in his sister's direction surprised by her sudden change in opinion.

"R-Romelle!" She turned her attention toward her brother voicing the same reason that I want to join.

"I didn't think about it until now but when _____ bought it up I starting realizing that I want my home back too, it's where we grew up and it's where we all became friends I don't just want to abandon that place without at least trying myself to get it back nor can I stay here without earning the right too" Bandor eyes searched his sister's looking for some form of doubt or lack of resolve but found none so he sighed.

"Alright we can do it together, we'll take back our home but I'm not stopping there I'm going to make sure that we never have to live a day in fear again by doing what Wally and I swore we would" I thought that, that was promising too much even back then, that was all the two would talk about but I didn't want to voice these thoughts instead I let him have this.

Once we got this talk out the way we were going back to eating well I was until I spotted the boy that saved me all beaten up, I frowned as I pieced together what had happened after seeing a group of adults walk off with some food. I got up to walk over to him. Romelle and Bandor questioning my actions but I quickly dismiss them telling them to wait right here I'll be back shortly.

They were hesitant but did as I ask, I approached him offering my food but he barely gave it a second glance. "I don't need it" He weakly pushed it away declining my offer. I sat down beside him and tried to think of what to say? Until the obvious answer came to me.

"I never did get to say thank you...for saving me.. I was so out of it that I lost my manners-"

"I didn't do it to get thanks, I did it because it was the right thing to do" He wasn't exactly sounding very friendly nor like he was in the mood to talk but I didn't let it stop me, I came over to give him my food and I wasn't leaving till he eats it.

"Doesn't mean I shouldn't still thank you" I shot back. "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't been so insistent on saving me... I'm not sure if I would have been if the situation was reversed but I plan to change that starting with feeding a stubborn mullet-haired boy, oh look I found one" I pushed the food closer to him, he looked at me for a bit before sighing probably realizing that I wasn't going to give up.

"Fine" He grabbed the bread saying. "But I'm only eating this" He pushed the plate back. "I don't need the rest" Now I was the one sighing as I picked my plate backup replying.

"Well that's good enough I suppose" At least he's eating something, I thought but... he's alone, I'm sure they went for him because he doesn't have anyone with him like how I have Bandor and Romelle who did he have?

"Hey, are you with anyone?" He had stopped munching on the bread to shake his head like I thought, that means this will just keep happening unless. "Would you like to.. maybe to join up with my friends and I?" He took the last bite before standing.

"I'll pass...thanks for the bread" My heart sunk at his refusal but accepted his decisions nonetheless, I got up and rejoined with Romelle and Bandor as we went back to the rundown building that all the survivors were assigned to live at for the time being.

We had a long three months to wait until we sign, even though Romelle and I could do it right now if we wanted to but we didn't not until Bandor was old enough that way we all can then together we'll take back the home that was stolen from us.

____

This was going to be longer but I thought I should just end it here and save the rest for later.

Don't Forget to Heart, Comment and Follow if you haven't already. I would love to hear your thoughts on all of my stories.

Shameless self-promotion:

Like/Love or simply enjoy my one-shots? Then check out these beauties:

Super Psycho Love (request closed for now )

GenderBender One Shots

Girls Like Girls (Yuri OneShots)

Wicked Or Misunderstood? (Descendants Short Stories Series)

Fandom Rangers (One Shots Reader Insert)

Pinocchio's 2.0 (Reader Insert )

Sora x Yandere Reader

Sora x Yandere Reader Prequel

Sephiroth x Reader Insert One Shot(s)

Prompto One-Shot

Road Trip (FFKH)

The Bond Between Siblings (FFKH One Shots)

#keith kogane #romelle (voltron) #Bandor (Voltron) #AOT theme #Reader Insert #voltron characters #part 1 #au

[the-spoony-bard]

A Matter of Leverage - 10

Fandom: Fire Emblem Awakening

Style: Leverage!AU; modern setting; adventure/drama

Word count: 2,654

Read on Ao3

The young man fidgets in his seat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. There’s a stiff crispness to the light gray fabric to suggest that he’s never worn it before past the first ironing, the unease in his posture further ratifying Robin’s guess as this being a person attempting to be formal who has had little practice in doing so. His youth only serves to add further to the effect, sheepishly requesting water after Stahl had carded him, lowering the brim of his baseball hat to better cover the dusting of pink over his nose and cheeks.

 “I prob’ly should’ve made an appointment ahead of time,” he says apologetically with a notable southern twang, fingers tapping nervously on the table.

 “Don’t worry about it,” Robin replies kindly. She can feel Stahl watching just as he had a fortnight ago when Sumia and Cordelia were the ones seeking out Robin’s help, the latter with far less enthusiasm than the former. She continues to give the young man more time to pluck up his courage. “You did let me know ahead of time when you called this morning, and I happened to have an open afternoon, so it all worked out in the end. Besides, I’d hate to have you come all this way from Alabama for nothing.”

 Robin had been planning on staying in for a day of old movies and a bowl of popcorn, but this hardly warranted as important information to divulge.

 “Yes’m. Thank you, ma’am,” the young man nods rapidly, falling back to etiquette drilled into his head from infancy.

 “I don’t believe I ever caught your name.”

 “Donny,” he supplies, immediately stumbling over himself to retract it. “Er, Donnel, I mean. Donnel Spangler.”

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Donnel.” Robin extends her hand.

 Donnel looks at it nervously for just a moment before he realizes she means to shake. His own hand shoots out quickly to meet her, giving a couple enthusiastic shakes before he sets his hand awkwardly in his lap, not knowing what to do with it.

 “Would you care to tell me what happened, Donnel?” Robin prompts, firm but kind.

 “I’m sorry,” Donnel hesitates, unable to meet Robin’s eyes with his own. “Now that I’m here it just seems so hard to say it.”

 “It’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

 “That’s just the problem, ma’am,” Donnel says with more strength behind his words, finally matching Robin’s gaze. “We’re running out of time and I don’t know what can be done now.”

 “You leave that part to me.” Robin pats Donnel’s hand reassuringly atop the table. “First I need to know everything you can tell me.”

 “Okay.” Donnel nods to himself as he takes a deep breath.

 ○

 “Ma, what’s going on?”

 Donnel’s mother turned around as he stepped out through the front door to join them on the lawn. There was no way to not notice from how it creaked—the farm was old, showing its age as well as announcing it with every creak and groan.

 “It’s your eviction notice,” one of the men provided nastily. A glitter of gold sparkled in his toothy grin.

 “But that can’t be!” Donnel’s mother cried, brows furrowed as she wrung her hands in her apron. “There’s just no way… How could this have happened?”

 “How about you talk to the new owners about that?” the gold-toothed man replied, voice sickly sweet with feigned innocence.

 Right on cue, a car pulled up and parked in the drive. Three men stepped out in short order, surveying the area casually. Donnel turned to his mother for any clarification, but she didn’t look at him, keeping on a brave face despite the beads of sweat forming on her brow.

 “I don’t understand,” Donnel whispered to her furiously, fists clenched to his sides.

 “It sounds like you didn’t make your payments in time,” the gold-toothed man answered instead.

 “But we did!” Donnel’s mother turned on him in a righteous fury as the three new arrivals watched with mild interest. “And after that they never even bothered to fix anything back up decent! The roof still leaks, floorboards are missing from the porch… I fired them, they shouldn’t be able—”

 “Doesn’t matter.” With a shrug, the gold-toothed man twirled the house keys from their ring around one finger before he walked over to the oldest of the three men with slicked back auburn hair, beginning to gray, and tossed them into his waiting hands.

 “Mr. Roddick!” Donnel’s mother called, putting on a brave face even as her voice wavered, hurrying over to the older man. “Please, you can’t do this! Where will we go?”

 “I truly am sorry that it’s come to this, ma’am,” Mr. Roddick replied, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

 Donnel watched in silent horror as Roddick pulled a piece of paper from his pocket folded unevenly into quarters. With no further discussion, he passed it along to Donnel’s mother before he and his two sons got back into their shiny SUV and drove off, the two men sent ahead getting into their own less expensive car to follow after them.

 “Ma, we can’t let them get away with this!” Donnel took his mother’s free hand, the other holding the eviction notice shakily.

 “There’s nothing that we can do, son.”

 “No! No, I’ll—I’ll find help. Ma, I promise! I’ll leave right away!”

 ○

 Donnel leans forward in his seat, his hands clasped together in a desperate plea.

 “I’m still a little confused on the how of things, but Ma says that it’s all to do with some legal loophole they used once we’d fired them. We were trapped either way, losing all our money on workers that didn’t even fix anything. We’ve been living in hard times ever since my pa passed away—gods rest his soul—so we had to take one of those loans on the house.”

 “An equity loan,” Robin provides.

 “Yeah, that’s the one. There’s so much work to do just between the farm and my schooling, and Ma felt it’d be for the best if we hired contractors to work on the house for us so I wouldn’t have to give up on my learning… I wish that I had now. They took so long to do absolutely nothing, and the value of our house dropped.”

 “In short, Roddick’s taken your house and property as collateral,” Robin sums up grimly.

 “That’s right, ma’am.”

 “Just Robin will do,” Robin says kindly.

 “Miss Robin, the farm has been in our family for generations. It means everything to Ma. After Pa died… well, it’s the last thing she has from him that really matters ‘sides her wedding ring. I can’t let that dirty crook take it away from her like this!”

 “And we won’t let her,” Robin assures him, resting her hand on top of his for a few seconds. “My team will make sure that your house is given back to you and your mother.”

 “Thank you, ma’am—er, Miss Robin.”

 “In the meantime, go back to your mother. My team and I will keep you apprised of our progress.”

 Donnel nods helplessly as he murmurs more thanks, first to Robin, then to Stahl as he passes him at the bar. He pauses for a moment at the door, his fingers wrapped around the handle. Robin gives him a reassuring smile as she sits down on one of the barstools.

 “They won’t get away with this, Donnel.”

 Donnel smiles back, even if the twitch of his lips suggests less surety than Robin projects. Robin watches him leave, walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the glass before she turns back around to Stahl watching her. She pauses at his expression, almost not recognizing him without his usual sympathetic eyes.

 “You look better than you have been,” Stahl notes. Robin can’t help but hear the sincerity. In all their limited interactions, she’s never seen even a hint of a mean bone in the man’s body.

 “Just busier,” Robin replies, far more guarded than he. It is, after all, easier to look better when one drinks themselves silly only in the privacy of their own homes instead of in front of well-meaning bartenders like Stahl.

 “It looks that way from the meetings you’ve been having here,” Stahl says knowingly. He quickly holds his hands up in an automatic response for one well versed in de-escalation. “Not that I eavesdrop on private conversations. But I can see it.”

 Robin nods, absentmindedly tapping on the smooth wood of the bar with her fingers. She’d had no intention of making a secret of her new work, and she still doesn’t.

 “If there’s anything I can do to help,” Stahl continues, “you can let me know. All you have to do is ask.”

 Robin grins, looking up at that innocent smile. He’s been trying to crack this nut ever since the bar became Robin’s regular haunting grounds. She rests her elbow on the bar, leaning her head against her propped up hand.

 “There is something…”

 Stahl’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly at Robin’s acceptance. Robin points lazily behind Stahl’s head before he can get too excited at his progress in befriending her.

 “Could I just get the whole bottle to go? It seems I’ve got some work to get to.”

 Stahl sighs, shaking his head with a wry smile.

 “You could get in trouble drinking on the job,” he jokes wearily, but takes it down anyway.

 “There’s perks to being your own boss,” Robin replies cheekily.

 She hops off the barstool, taking her bottle and leaving with words of thanks to Stahl. There’s a shuffling from over her com as she steps out into the street, readjusting her scarf with her free hand to block out the crisp autumn chill in the air. Robin cringes as the very distinct sound of someone loudly chewing crunchy food echoes in her ear.

 “Hey, I noticed your earpiece is gone from its bed,” Nowi announces from around a mouthful of potato chips. “Is this about the guy who called earlier with a job?”

 “Yes. And you’d better not be eating those on the couch. You leave crumbs everywhere.”

 There’s a pause as Nowi presumably moves to a different position than Robin’s couch.

 “I’ll get to work on looking this guy up!” she deftly changes the subject.

 “Good. I think the others are still around.”

 ○

 Robin shrugs off her coat, raising her eyebrows at the collection of people in her kitchen.

 “You’d think you people didn’t have your own places to live the way I always find you in mine.”

 Olivia opens her mouth to speak upon spotting the bottle clutched in Robin’s hand, but quickly shuts it.

 “You’re the only one that actually keeps your cupboards stocked, so there you go,” Gaius shrugs, having been caught in the act of pulling food from her fridge when Robin walked in moments earlier. He unabashedly finishes constructing himself a sandwich even as Robin rolls her eyes to hide her amusement.

 “I’ve got our briefing all ready to go whenever you are!” Nowi calls from the other room.

 “Good,” Robin says, motioning the others to go on ahead as she pulls out a glass for her alcohol. Both glass and bottle hit the table without ceremony as she sinks into her seat in the other room. She can feel everyone but Gaius—who’s rather more interested in his sandwich—looking at her, so she waves Nowi on with her free hand as she pours her first glass. “Run it.”

 “Okay,” Nowi hesitates for just a moment before she forges ahead, turning on the three screens with a swipe of her tablet. “Our target is a Mr. Roddick.” She gestures dramatically as the man himself appears on screen, sporting the classic greased back look one expects from a used car salesman, the graying hair and crow’s feet around his eyes betraying his age. “He’s a contractor, and as crooked as they come. He’s got construction contracts spread out over Alabama and some in neighboring states as well, most of them residential. And that ties into his really shady trick of earning his millions of dollars.”

 “Robin,” Olivia whispers as Robin makes quick work of her first glass. “A-are you o-okay?”

 “Fine,” Robin replies, more short than she intends to be.

 “So what’s his deal then?” Gaius cuts in loudly, looking at Robin out of the corner of his eye. She nods gratefully. “How did he scam the Spanglers?”

 “It’s actually pretty simple,” Nowi says, puffing out her chest. “He takes the contracts, then stretches them out by doing horrible work on the houses that doesn’t actually fix anything. After about a year or so, most people—Donny and his mom included—figure that after all this time and no progress, they’ll just cut their losses and the contract and not pay him anymore. That’s where Roddick gets people. He’s able to file for a contractor’s lien on the property because the work done, no matter how poor it is, isn’t being paid for. Then it’s all a matter of waiting until the family runs out of money, the bank forecloses, and Roddick steps up to take ownership of the house.”

 “That’s just wrong,” Lon’qu rumbles, the muscles of his arms tightening as they’re crossed over his chest.

 “Wrong, yes,” Robin agrees. “But still completely legal.”

 “When I was looking up their history, I found out that Roddick’s been investigated before a few years ago, but the FBI could never find anything to really stick,” Nowi adds.

 “Th-there’s got to be s-some opening, i-isn’t there?” Olivia asks, fidgeting nervously with her cat sticker pen.

 “I think there is,” Robin says vaguely before taking a long sip. “Nowi, what do you have on Roddick’s sons?”

 “I was hoping you’d ask!” Nowi claps her hands together excitedly. “Roddick’s got his two sons in on the business—Norris and Murray.” Nowi swipes at the tablet and brings up pictures of two younger men, one sullen and the other much more enthusiastic. She points out the latter. “Murray is Roddick’s oldest son, but it doesn’t look like he’ll be inheriting the family business anytime soon. He’s the playboy of the family. Spends more time travelling the world doing crazy sports like jet skiing and snowboarding. The only authority he’s ever seemed to have is being a judge in a bikini competition.” She sticks out her tongue to clarify her own disgust.

 “What about the little guy?” Lon’qu nods his head at the picture of the other son.

 “He’s like his brother’s polar opposite. While Murray is all fun times, Norris is always working. Roddick is definitely the face of the company, but from what I could tell, Norris is the one doing all the actual work.”

 “Hmm,” Robin leans back in her seat, squinting her eyes as she surveys Nowi’s carefully collected pictures. “We can’t underestimate them. They’ve already squeaked past a state investigation before and they’re covered by the law. Attacking them from the outside can be difficult.”

 “I think I know where you’re going with this,” Olivia says quietly, even as her eyes keep flitting back to the bottle Robin absentmindedly taps against her own thigh.

 “So you’re talking about striking from the inside?” Gaius finally speaks, wiping his fingers off on the front of his shirt. Robin resists the urge to go hunting for a napkin for him.

 “A house divided against itself,” Lon’qu recites.

 “That’s the idea,” Robin confirms, rising from her seat. She looks down to see her glass empty again, so she takes a swig straight from the bottle instead, ignoring Olivia’s flinching. “And Murray… he’s our weak link. Nowi, where is he now?”

 “His recent activity looked like plane tickets to a ski resort.”

 “Hmm…” Robin sets the bottle heavily on the table, looking to Olivia. “How familiar are you with Olympic sports?”

#fire emblem awakening #fea #fire emblem #fire emblem fanfiction #fire emblem awakening fanfiction #A Matter of Leverage #adventure #robin

[davidastbury]

Feb  2017

The Weekend It was her first meeting with her boyfriend’s family.  Looking back a Sunday lunch might have been a better idea instead of a weekend; but she went along with the best laid plans.   They seemed very nice people and welcomed her into the family home.  Everything ran smoothly,  although on the last day she was relieved to be going back and getting away from the twee chocolate box house with all those peasants and haystacks paintings, mismatched furniture, black open beams and low ceilings and the eternal fussing over the wood fire.  It was all very nice, but somehow oppressive. She had been cheerfully cautioned at the beginning about the erratic hot water system, but she hadn’t concentrated and never got the hang of it.  But on the last day, in the morning, she had somehow damaged the system.  He boyfriend was taking their bags down to the car when his dad appeared, towel around his shoulders, hair sticking up – and looked at her and called her a whore.

Starbucks A couple have come in – they take a table diagonal to mine, near the window.  They might not actually be a couple; perhaps they work together or have some sort of business together; they don’t appear familiar with each other.   He loads the table up with napkins and spoons and she brings over the drinks balanced on a tin tray – a coffee solo, expresso, with a side glass of water and some sort of milky concoction laced with chocolate and sugar.  They are in their forties, overcoated – she with collar up and a froth of scarves – I cannot see her face properly.  In fact, if the police were to questioned me about them I wouldn’t be able to give a decent description – particularly  of her.  It would be embarrassing sitting with the police artist, hearing him asking me what shape of face she had – I wouldn’t be able to tell him a damn thing.  But what I could describe – without any difficulty – are her eyes!  She has green eyes – beautiful debauched green eyes.

On the Train She’s one of my lot – my generation – brought up in a world of certainties - dependable mature parents - avuncular public figures - solid, traditional schools instilling the virtues of service and excellence.  And then marriage and family. Her husband is a very charming man who prefers to eat in restaurants and will not let her iron his shirts.  She tells her friends that he is often away on business, and fixes them with a hard stare.  Her daughter is now married and has children, two girls - upon whom she loaded love and gifts – she even wanted to pay for their schooling and so on – her own daughter saw this as ‘interference’ and there were quarrels and upsets.  So her visits became less frequent and eventually her ambitious son-in-law took a big promotion and the family moved across the country to a village in Hertfordshire.  Visiting the grandchildren became a rare event – they became like strangers who grew six inches every time she saw them. Giving them gifts became somehow joyless and furtive – and she would cry on the train home. And now?   Who can blame her for being bitter?  All her gifts and all her love have been thrown back into her face  –  where they smell and die and rot.

Happy Families I was talking to a neighbour and he mentioned his daughter had visited him a couple of weeks ago.   Apparently she’s doing well – married and twins and all that – and she is no longer the great would- be artist and rebel she once was.  Perhaps my friend was encouraged by my interest because he said that she had apologised to him for being such a bitch in her mid teens – she said, in her own words -  ‘I was actually crazy at that time – I mean it – crazy!’  It wasn’t an all together serious apology – she did it in a jokey way – but nevertheless he knew it was sincere.   I began to feel a bit awkward;  we were  in deep water, but I had to ask him how that felt.  After a long pause he said that his mind had gone back to how it was in the home at that time.   He remembered his anguish at the impossible ‘targets’ set by his bosses; there was the torment of financial insecurity; there was the nice home where the family never sat together;  there was the artifice of urging the children to do well in exams;  there were the foreign holidays that were really a bit of a trial for all of them; there was a life packed with every aid to happiness and yet none of them were actually happy. He said that he replied to her – ‘Don’t worry, we were all crazy.  I am sorry too.’

Pret a Manger She’s just finishing her second croissant!  Why don’t people eat breakfast at home?  Anyway, she’s enjoyed it.  Delicately dabbing the corners of her mouth, checking her phone – her face resumes her normal expression.  Young people are difficult to read, but she isn’t young – youngish, but not young.  She has the face that she has worked for, the face she deserves – she has settled, as she sips the last of cafe-au-lait, into her true face – the one that the dormant artist in me would wish to draw. Instead all my heart goes out to her and I wonder if there is someone who can say to her – ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

Station Waiting Room The seating is fixed and we were all sat facing the window.  A man came up to the window and looked in at us.  The sunshine was bright so he put his hands up to his eyes, which made him look like an Australian sheep-farmer looking into the distance.  So there he was, staring at us one by one – a bit embarrassing in a way.   And then he was gone and we resumed our reading, scratching, dreaming. And then he was back!  Peering in at us again.  It was obvious he was looking for someone – he’s just another person looking for someone.

The Hotel in Marrakech Nice couple.  Spending their first ever holiday without the kids.  Last minute booking -  done as if with the spontaneity of young love – and a week later they were settled into this rather odd hotel in Marrakech.    I say it’s odd because it doesn’t have a defined character – you cannot categorise it!  The rooms are cool and Moorish; fountains tinkle in the courtyard, a small swimming pool, a high pink wall behind which can be heard the sounds of people bargaining in the souk. They spend their evenings in the bar, sitting on seats decked with kilim rugs,  their drinks on low brass tables.  At around nine the bar fills up with men, mostly Berbers in European clothes and quite a lot of youngish women in tight dresses. The couple are enjoying themselves – not talking about the children very much – but curious about the noisy groups of men and women surrounding them.   They have been married fifteen years and so much concentration on the lives of their children has given them a sort of innocence – all their cunning has been bleached away – they are a little bit like children themselves.  They are so innocent that they don’t realise that this slightly crazy hotel is in fact a brothel.

A Dream in Stone The twenty-eight stone steps leading up to the museum entrance could tell his life story – he had climbed them hundreds of times, going back throughout memory.  And the fake Grecian columns at which he had leaned and waited (and waited!) to meet the people who had taken his life by the throat and shaken it like a puppet.  All that stone!  Real, grim, grey, quarried stone hacked and hauled.  Northern stone – not like that poncy white cladding that you see in London.    Stone that can absorb tears – stone that even if defaced still retains dignity - stone as loyal and patient and unmoveable as his own feelings.

A Cheshire Romance He was lost for words, so he asked her  -  ‘Where are you from?’ ‘From the land of your dreams’  - would have been the correct reply.  Instead she sipped her drink, and because the music was loud, she leaned across and spoke into his ear. And he could hear birds, thousands of birds, singing in Hazel Grove.

Pavement  Cafe ... Tenerife They both smoke a lot – but when you’re twenty-years-old you’ll live forever, won’t you?  A serious couple speaking in a language I do not recognise.  There is absolutely no sexual crackle passing between them – something that I would recognise.  I can see a pile of leaflets in front of them – perhaps political, perhaps promoting pizzas.  The girl seems to be going through a check-list and he responds with eye-drooping conceit. I’m distracted by a wild looking man trying to sell CDs and hoping that he doesn’t come to my table.  And then the waiter glides over to the young couple and calculates their bill.  I hear the girl speaking in Spanish and see her face for the first time.  The young man ducks his head and fumbles in his jacket pockets not seeing her look of withering contempt.

Ben -  (1963) Ben was the wise old man of the Bodega Bar, Cross Street, Manchester.  Every weekday evening he’d be in his corner watching what was going on.  White beard and gold-framed glasses, looking for all the world like Edward G. Robinson in ‘The Cincinnati Kid’ - sipping Irish whiskey neat.  I used to call in after work, sometimes a group of us, sometimes just with one person.  I was in the habit of exchanging a few words with Ben and sometimes he would give me words of advice.  I would often go back to my crowd and scribble what he had said onto a beer mat, or a cigarette packed, intending to write it up later.  This was one of his gems:- ‘You give a lot away about yourself and people will take advantage of you.  They will let you down – and I’m sure you will bounce back.  But someone is going to let you down and you will not get over it – it’s like a hard slap across a child’s face – you won’t get over it.’

Pret a Manger She was happy to see him again after all those years.  They had quite a few memories to share – what had become of so-and-so and all that.  She enjoyed laughing with him as he mentioned silly things they had done – when life was new and everything was fun.  But he didn’t mention the one and only time he tried to ‘date’ her and she was surprised and deflected his suggestion.  She had always liked him, but not in that way – if you get my drift.   It was nice to talk of old times.  His way of speaking actually brought back, in a very real way, something of the feeling of that time – the pleasure of being in that circle of friends – the excitement of it all.  It was also a pleasure to be with someone who remembered her beauty – and most pleasurable of all, to know that is still how he sees her.

Ben   -   (1963) But now I understand Ben – probably better than he understood me. Being young I was tormented by the fact that nothing changed;  I squirmed at the  coming decades of sameness.  He being old was afraid that he had no future, and that his life was quickly running out.  So I would leave my friends for a few minutes and join him at his table, knowing that neither of us could help the other, yet taking comfort in the diversion of small talk and the opiate of human kindness.

Afternoon Prayers A tenth man was needed so I was dragged in – Minchah could not begin without a minyan of ten adult males.   The others, in their long dark coats, had been waiting impatiently and glared at me.   And then we started up - going at quite a pace – our voices (not altogether synchronised) producing a smooth male growl.  The ancient words rasping in impatient supplication.   Nothing airy-fairy here – our heavy shoes were planted firmly on the ground and we stood swaying in the torrent of Hebrew words.

On the Train An old man – very old – sitting alone.  He’s so old that if the sun was behind him you might see his bones.  He’s wearing unusual clothes – tan (cowboy?) boots, jeans with big turn-ups, shorty overcoat – all confirming that only the very old and the very young can wear anything and still look good. He has a placid expression; most of his struggles are over – he’s said what he wanted to say and played out all his tunes.  Yes!  He’s played his tunes and like a violin he is ready to go back into his case.