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ladecena · 3 years

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DREAM💃💫

Mich Delavega’s ambition is to be a dancer, but her father has refused to support her for no apparent reason. Is she willing to take a chance? Did she carry on with her aspirations despite her father’s disapproval? Was she brave enough to fight for what she truly desired?

I’m strolling slowly down the corridor, thinking about what happened the day before. Dad and I got into an argument over what I wanted, and when he found out that I was secretly competing in a dance competition, he was upset and demanded me to stop. It’s strange until he brings up the matter of my cousin’s accident. What a pitiful excuse, yet it’s true.

Danica was the first person I met. It’s just me and my one and only best pal. She greeted me with a grin and handed me a piece of paper. It’s a Dance Battle Poster for our Students Days

Flashback

I’m looking forward to coming back home. Danica and I attended a competition altogether. This is our sixth win in this competition; we always enter but keep it a secret from Dad because if he finds out, he will be furious. Dancing is really something he despises. I’m not sure why, but it began when I begged with Dad to enroll me in a dance class. He encouraged me to stop, but I’m a stubborn person, and then there was an accident because my cousin was causing difficulty because of the dance, and my father became upset, as if she was cursing the dance for the rest of his life.

As I arrived home, I found my mother watching TV on the couch and my father reading the newspaper when I opened the door. I approach them from behind and give them a kiss on their cheeks.

When I saw the diploma, prize, and tape of my dance practice and competition, my eyes widened.

“Tell me, what is this Mich Delavega!”

My father was constantly yelling. I put my hands over my ears and close them. I’m terrified.

“How long? 3 years? Did you just spend all of my money on dancing?”

While I was crying, my mother sat next to me and embraced me so tightly. Why was Dad acting so strangely? In my head, I said.

End of flashback

That day has stayed with me to this day. I’m in the library at my school. I’m pursuing BSBA since it’s what my father wants me to do. They are businessmen/women, and I am the next in line to become our company’s CEO.

After a few hours, school was over. We were both eager to go home, so I got to work right away. Danica, on the other hand, interrupted me. She invites me to join her in a studio with her.

We don’t need to drive because Jigs Studio is close to our school. We arrived at the studio’s entrance. When I hear music blaring, my heart jumps. It really is as if it’s encouraging me to move, sway, and enjoy the beat. I smile quietly at myself.

I’m really looking forward to the battle. I can’t seem to stop grinning. This is my dream, which my father has thwarted.

The competition was about to start when we found a seat.

“Hello there, everyone! Thank you for attending this battle. I know you’re all excited to see this, so let’s get this fight started between Black mamba and Higher kids!!!!” The host said

And we’re all clapping, and I can hear some audience members shouting from every nook and cranny of the studio. In a few moments, the two contestants will be here, facing each other. Each contender will showcase their moves on the platform in the first round. In round two, they choose one member to defy their group and battle against the other, and in round three, one of the audience members will perform the song that they have picked.

We’ve been through much too much. Danica and I had a good time during the match. When I returned home, I found my mother seated on our couch, watching television.

“Hello, mom,” I said, smiling.

“What’s the matter with you? Are you all right?” My mum replied casually

“Mom, I’m fine. By the way, I need to get some sleep.”

I went to my room, changed into my pajamas, and fell asleep in my bed.

I awakened the next morning with a playful smirk on my face. Today I’m in such a great mood. I get out of bed and begin my morning routine.

I excitedly entered our kitchen, and while I ate my breakfast, mom noticed me and kissed me on the cheeks.

I finished my meal and went to see my father. I need to tell him something when I’m in the backyard, I smell some burning plastic. I walked to where it came from and my jaw dropped when I saw my things get burnt.

"Daddddddddddd!”

I raced up to him and tried to stop him, but it was too late; my possessions had went up in flames. While observing the fire, I slam myself on the grass. When the fires are all out, I stare angrily at my father.

"You deserve it. This is your punishment."

"What do you mean Dad?! I’m not sure why you feel that way and you need to burn my stuffs, which were extremely valuable to me!”

I cried as I ran inside our home.

Mom came in my room to console me. When she saw my sad face, she looked so sorrowful.

“You’re aware of how much I cherish you. You are my daughter. You grew up beside me. I fell madly in love with those beautiful eyes the first time I saw you. Even though it was difficult for me to accept those gorgeous eyes, I did so because I believe that if I put my hand on you, you’d be mine. You are going to be my daughter. She cried as she stated it.

"Why are you bringing this up now, Mom?” As I stated earlier

Moms, like dads, have an odd habit of saying gibberish.

“Sweetheart I’m not your biological mother.”

“You can’t play at me like that, mom, I’m not a fool.”

“Please accept my apologies.”

When she apologizes, I take a serious expression on my face. Is this true? Is this a dream? If that’s the case, kindly wake me up. I despise these feeling. I turned to face my mother, who was sobbing in front of me. A lot of people were staring at us as well. To grab her attention, I mimic a cough.

“What is her name? What is the name of my mother?”

“Your mother Mich is your father’s first wife.”

“Is that my father’s explanation? Why is he putting pressure on me to give up my ambition of becoming a dancer?” Mom gave me a nod as I spoke.

Dad walked on me and looked me in the eyes.

“She is, she’s your mother. That is why I do not want you to pursue a career as a dancer. That dream will destroy you, as well as our family. "My father’s eyes welled up with tears as he spoke.

It was the first time I had ever seen him cry. "Is it a lot of pain?” In my head, I asked.

“Your mother abandoned us. She had only just given birth and had already departed. She is unconcerned about us. She is more dedicated to her passion than the rest of us, and I don’t want you to follow in her footsteps. That’s why I’m putting a halt to you.

"Dad embraced me and grabbed my shoulder.”

"Can you put your faith in me, Dad? I will never abandon you, father, as she did.” I said this while gazing him in the eyes. He turned around to avoid looking at me.

I take my father’s hand in mine. While I’m face the ground, he glances at me.

“I apologize for not being a good parent to you. I’m sorry that I’ve gotten selfish since I’m a useless father. I let you show me what you were passionate about.”

“Do your best,” he added as he walked away.

“I’ll make my dad proud!” I said

Tomorrow morning, I arrived at Danica’s house, we agreed to enter a dance competition. All I know is that I want to impress my family, so Danica and I put in a lot of preparation and effort before the competition, and it is quite difficult for us.

The competition will begin in three weeks. We’re both exhausted, but we’re having a great time.

Danica and I are both excited and worried on the day of the completion. Our names are called by the presenter after several hours, and we confidently walk up to the stage.

I began to sexily dance in a chair. It’s wonderful. Dance made me feel strong, seductive, and fearless! There’s something about dancing in a new and vulnerable way in my heart that makes me happy. To be honest, when I did chair dance, I felt like an acrobatic goddess.

Danica moves sexily in the chair as well, lowering her upper body to the seat and slowly lifting her feet off the floor until her legs are in the air. She pauses for a second to catch her breath before smiling.

We ended the song by posing beautifully in front of a lot of people clapping on us. We smiled and hugged each other.

“We made it!” I whisper

In the end, we succeeded. We’re ecstatic because this is the first time I’ve ever danced in front of many audience, and my father is seeing me perform live.

We’re still here to thank everyone in the crowd and the judges, even though the program is ended.

In back stage, I saw my family.

“Mom! Dad!” I shouted something and dashed over to hug them.

“You did a great job, sweetheart,” my mother replied, beaming.

I fixed my gaze on my father. Before we departed, he gave Danica and me a bunch of flowers and congratulated us.

When we came home, I went straight to my room to rest, and then my father called me. I take a few steps forward and open the door.

“Hello, Dad!” He smiled at me and instructed me to be in my room.

He handed me a medium-sized box and added, “I forgot to give this to you.” I’m happy for you. This should be kept.

“Thank you, Dad!” I said

I was shocked when I found a necklace and key, as well as a camera and two papers. I take the key first and turn to face my father.

“I bought one of the studios near our house,” he continued, “so you and Danica can practice there.”

“I know you wanted to go to a dancing school when you were younger, but I’m not permitting it; nonetheless, I believe it’s not too late to join you, right?!” I hugged him tightly and cried.

“Thank you dad, you made me happy. Thank you so much! I promise you I will work hard to make you proud. ”

“You don’t need to work hard to make me proud because right now I’m so proud of you.”

We smiled and hugged one other passionately.

I run into a lot of challenges in this world as a result of pursuing my dream. Nothing can readily obtain it. Before we can get what we really want, we need to go through the needle hole. We must be strong and confident, but we must also remember to smile. To all of us, Dream is really significant because it leads to success. So keep dreaming and, if you truly want something, take a chance, even if it seems impossible. I am Mich Delavega, A Business Woman and a Professional Dancer.

- peachy k. 🍑

June 10, 2021

#music art dance pop love passion inspiration sound motivation creative musically #dance dancing show shows inspire inspiration love learn create #health wellness healthy lifetsyle art love create motivate inspire inpiration #inspiration

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new-caba · 3 years

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Response to a Noelle Stevenson interview

This is a publication from my other blog which Tumblr trolled and shut down my reach.

I want to respond to some stuff Noelle Stevenson said in this interview.

“Their arc is the arc of the show. It always has been,” showrunner Noelle Stevenson told The Times in a recent phone call. “Every season is about this relationship, even when they’re the farthest apart.”

True, but your narrative is confusing about that. I am sick of people saying "It’s getting annoying the amount they’re focusing on the two” and they say this because, while there are times when the narrative wants to discuss Adora’s past, her relationship with the Horde people and the connection she has with Catra, there are way more times when it pretends she’s just a generic mystical warrior who is cool on her own and beat the bad guys just for fun (usually putting Catra’s life at risk in a non reciprocate way) and ignores that Adora even has a personality other then “to be so much better then what she has done in the past”, and “so much stronger then everyone that she can deny herself as much as she wants” as if those were a positive things. Almost focusing on how strong she is because she can resist abuse, implying that those who aren’t that strong are “bad victims”. That’s what she means by “I will not be controlled” in 4th season.

Adora is just using She-ra as a way

to run away from her internalized homophobia, that’s what being She-ra means to her and that’s the brilliant main narrative. Hear me up: she wants Catra because the old friend reminds her of a safe place to explore and have fun, in a way that this perfect being everyone wants her to become doesn’t allow, and her becoming everyone’s savior is just fueling this problem. However, they imply her heroism is a good thing, so how can it be that her opposite desire, the desire to live a happy life with her love, is the main narrative? Being She-ra (a miraculous problem solver) is her main narrative. If she used She-ra as a way to protect herself, her friends and the love of her life I would find her really cool, but she just used it to run away from herself.

To recapitulate, in the first season, the story is indeed about Catra and Adora because it is about Catra trying to survive with dignity without the help of Adora, and it is about Adora trying to understand how to get the help of the princesses to fight the war. But in the end Adora realized that the fact she has overlooked Catra was a problem because now Catra came back as a leader and she doesn’t know how to go about that.

This would be fine if the second season was directed to the two of them at least trying to get along or to talk about each other, in order to continuous with this theme of them growing up to their own life paths without letting to have a connection, healthy or not. But instead it becomes about Adora mindlessly fighting some battles and Catra alone doing the job of trying to achieve something to herself and to the Horde people in general. When Shadow Weaver runs away from her, she starts to loose hope she will ever have support to continuous. She feels like no one will ever help or love her, and if they do, she better just protect them while she dies, because she does not deserve it. And this is all being reinforced by the way Adora is treating her (being a brutal bully).

In the 3rd season, when Shadow Weaver returns to Adora, the protagonist realizes she had again been neglecting her own past traumas and wants to interact with the witch, to be close to her again. It would be a good continuation of Adora’s story with the Horde people, and, by consequence, with Catra, if she used the witch solely to achieve what she needed, but no. That’s eeeeevil, right? She did someting muuuuuch better: guaranteed the witch was around and always interacting with her, putting bad ideas in her head and aligning herself with Glimmer to be able to torture Catra again. She even says she wanted to believe there was something good in Shadow Weaver still, and to me this feels like she’s just trauma bonding. You cannot expect this person to be nice, it’s not reasonable.

It’s funny that Catra is unforgivable to the point of having to let her go and “live with her ‘choices’”, but Shadow Weaver can do what she wants without consequences, and no one discussed that in the fandom, as far as I saw.

On the other hand, Catra has wanted to interact with the witch solely because she needed guidance, since she had to manage a war being only a teenager, but she kept her arrested. Which, given how harmful SW is, is quite a reasonable boundary until you find a better way to handle her with safery. Still, all the blame of the world falls on her for having been mean to her former mother. Much better to always let her loose, like Adora did, right? I see.

You can say what you want, but Adora could have fought Glimmer to demand the which was actually better locked up, they are in a war, for god’s sake! It is so important for social movements to actually know how to war in order to win those waring them first, yet this so-called “social justice” cartoon is preaching as a value the worse war strategy possible. You do not let the former leader of your enemy loose in a room of your castel if you’re at war, no amount of “non-violent” value is gonna make this make sense. Because it’s the most illogical thing ever.

Adora is proving not to be trustable to Catra by guaranteeing the witch could pottentially go back to her, which she has proved many times to be very found of. Catra is seeing that Adora will always contribute to her suffering and never defend her. That’s what Catra realizes in the Crimson Waste after Adora says to her she’s living with Shadow Weaver. The feeling is like “it’s me or Adora, I need to act before Adora can control my life and I have no choice but to live in hiding”. She’s not wrong.

And what good did it do that Adora went to the Crimson Waste, really? Like, what was the point of the mission? Why was that narrative arc important to her? She was just driven by Shadow Weaver’s misguidance. She didn’t learned shit there. She should have learned stuff by talking to Razz and to the princesses about their history, you know. Prioritizing herself in the relationship she had with her friends, so that they helped her figure stuff out. But the narrative wants to mean it’s evil to put yourself first. It’s not, suggesting that is just denial. Why is Catra being the one accused of isolating herself, when she has great reasons not to trust anybody, while Adora is isolating herself in the same way, even though she has trustable friends? Who’s the wrong one there?

And don’t come with the talk Catra could have just lived in the Crimson Waste, she’s not safe there, it’s not a safe place for a teenager who doesn’t know shit about the world to handle without help (or two, if you count Scorpia). It’s absolutelly cruel to suggest that.

It wasn’t just that Adora left. That was actually never really the issue at all,” explained Stevenson. “It’s that for Catra, Adora was her number one priority. Their relationship was her number one priority. And for Adora, it wasn’t.”

It was. Adora run away from the important stuff in battles to focus on Catra. Even when Catra is not in battle, Adora’s thinking she will be there and that she will be terrible. Adora is always thinking about Catra in a bad light, as if Catra was only thinking of destroying her. Catra had other issues going on. She’s first trying to prevent her former mother from killing her, then she’s trying to prevent Hordak from killing her, then she’s trying to take away the territories from the princesses - rightfully, by the way, because the princesses abuse their power and use it to control Etheria at any cost, as seen by Glimmer in the 4th season, and as seen by the fact the princesses expect Adora to solve all their issues with security herself, as if Adora had to control everything for them with her divine powers. They continuous with this attitude until the 5th season, when Adora loses her sword and finally the princesses have to learn to get along and solve their own issues without her. Despite all the talk about magic friendship, the princesses of power only help each other in a meaningful way against the war in this last season, when Adora finally stops begging to serve them (even though what they were doing to her with these expecctations is still their fault, not hers). And Catra was there, trying to stop them and their toxidity all along. She was the one trying to do something useful. This idea Catra is just obcessed with Adora… like yeah, she is always very concerned with Adora, since the princess can’t stop stalking her, personally attacking and stigmatizing her. This is self defense. And it’s pure projection to suggest Catra is the obcessed one. Noelle you’re… lying to yourself.

Anyways, at the end, all Adora’s narrative arc always ends up in dead end. The sacred connections to the princesses was unproductive, her travel to the Crimson Waste was unproductive, literally everything she finds out about her story is an accident. And they’re blaming Catra for wanting to do something. It’s like they’re so afraid of telling this story that they are villanizing who wants it to happen.

[continuing the last comment] This backstory has made Catra one of the show’s most relatable characters, even though she’s a villain who keeps making bad decisions.

Catra is not relatable because she thinks she should be the priority of people’s life, she’s relatable because, unlike the protagonist, she has actual life problems and challenges like it was never shown on TV before. She is always being tortured, abused and, mainly, oppressed, she has no power what so ever and have to survive this reality. She loses faith in humanity and can get really dark because of it - as people do -, she makes messes because of it and have a hard time healing, even though she gets there, which feels empowering. This is just an ordinary narrative arc, nothing like “only making bad decisions”. You know what is not empowering? The comparations with her and bad people, like she was mean because of these difficulties. Her mistakes are not worse than the ones Adora makes out of trauma. Why is one the villain and the other, the good guy? I have said this in a thousen different times now, but this is discrimination against oppressed people, to call her a bad guy and elevate her to the same level of villains who have magic, body weapons and science on their side.

Also, she did not made bad choices. Not wanting to go into the unknown without protection like her attitude was in the frist season, taking seriously when powerful people threatened to kill her if she does not follow their orders like she did in the second season and not wanting to be in a land full of dangers having to intimidate everyone like she did in the third season, are not life mistakes. They are very healthy and helpful choices. You wasn’t able to sell the idea she was wrong to do so, because it’s a lie. It just made it seem unfair that she’s not the good girl.

Catra’s journey has involved realizing that “you are not always going to be the number one priority in the lives of the people that you love,” Stevenson said.

Catra was absolutelly right to demand stuff from Adora, who basically was running away from her own story. This is the biggest act of love you can do for someone, to stand up for them no matter what, even when they are confused. She did not have to learn how to give space to Adora, Catra knows how to take care of her own business and leave other alone, as she has done the whole series. More projection.

She’s also had to learn “that it is OK to ask for the things that you want, because people don’t always know. Her big, heroic moment in the final season is actually just being able to ask Adora to stay.”

Her big heroic act was to be resilient enough to continuous to do what she has always done, which is to ask Adora to be by her side. Even after Adora neglected her to her abusers to the point she was “raped by the pope” and she stoped believing she was worth of love. She didn’t had to learn that, she just had to not forget she knew that.

Adora’s journey has been about learning that being a hero is more complicated than the willingness to sacrifice yourself for the cause or for your friends.

“Putting the greater good at the top of your list is a good thing to do, but you still do have that responsibility to the individuals in your life who depend on you,” Stevenson said. “Your friends don’t want you to die and sacrifice yourself because they love you. They want you in their lives.”

Are you now suggesting her friends deppended on her? Because they didn’t. Why do you say that? I don’t understand that if it is about Glimmer and Bow, but if that is about Catra, yeah, Adora could have used her magic powers to fight against Catra’s abusers, so you can say Catra was dependent on her to do it and she didn’t. But Catra never directelly imposed Adora to go and do that because Adora could be feeling unprepared. That’s not something you impose on others if you’re a decent person. That’s why Catra tryed to handle what she could on her own in the secound season, before she could find some help. She didn’t want to demand help when people were not openly abled to help.

And this is related to the fact you believe there’s such a thing as heros, and is defending the hero idea. Also that you think there is such a thing as the greater good. Haven’t you learned anything watching Harry Potter? Seriouslly? Oh, wait. You’re probably calling J.K. R*wling a T*RF as you did with me, never mind (censored because my reach was canceled after I said JK’s name on the other account). No wonder you’re such a bully if you keep defending this idea. I won’t even respond, I will just quote Kiara again, ‘cause that’s too basic:

“we’re not here to save the world. we are here to empower ourselves and each other to embrace all of our divine missions here. and that collective effort changes our course rather than a single person taking the lead. […]

i’m not focused on being a hero because i’m self-aware. i’m aware of what my strengths and weaknesses are and radically accept them. that is how i can help and it’s the only way anyone else is going to be able to help. if people don’t start getting real with themselves about what they’re meant to do and not what they wanna impress people with, it’s going to be much harder. i’m focused on what i can do. i have surrendered. it’s not inaction. it’s strategy”.

Well, it was much harder to Adora, wan’t it? It could have been so much simpler if she just cared about herself. She only faced herself in the last secound, with Catra imploring her, as the sweet person she is, to please do stuff just so that people could live on earth to help each other and for nothing else. Funny that Adora is always trying to impress people being the cool She-ra and at the same time Noelle is like “She-ra is this uncomfortable cloth she had to wear”. Either it’s ok to live to impress other people, or it’s uncomfortable. This is cognitive dissonance. As Magdalen Berns used to say, if you have to think about what you’re doing, if you have to make an conscious effort, it’s not natural. Why is this so hard for people to understand?

During this final season, “They become good influences on each other,” Stevenson added. “Adora learns to be a little more selfish, while Catra learns to be good and to be selfless in the way that Adora is.”

Selflessness is such a sin. The fact Catra got selfless is more trauma inducing. Here’s more Kiara:

“virgo-pisces can represent the delusion that the idea of selflessness can become because to be selfless is to deny desire of the self in this physically embodied existence and to deny your humanity, to deny that you are an individual and that you are a Self. it is a complete act of dissociation from reality, where being of Self also means survival because it is also called SELF-preservation. to engage with delusional selflessness it is to project unrealistic expectations onto our world that we will never need something in return. that we can continuously give and give and give while also never asking for help to restore, rest, and be taken care of. it’s just not realistic to pretend we’re okay with being hollow. our resentment and bitterness prove that’s not true.“

Anyway, I hope both Catra and Adora can just become selfish.

I wish I didn’t love Catra that much not to get pissed with those interviews, but I will stop looking to articles like that now not to get the urge to respond. I have been away since Noelle pretty much confirmed my indignation trhough her actions against me on twitter, but this response was almost ready to publish in my drafts for a long time and I just wanted to go and put this out in the world once and for all, so here it is.

i have this dream that we would be able to take what we see in the media and make it our own, not to be so relyant on the vision of the creators and the industries. I don’t think it’s fine for modern society to keep mindlessly watching stuff without discussing it afterwards so that they can be a part of the construction of the narratives. But you see, it is really concerning not only that the creator of the one entirely lesbian show is playing so much mental gymnastics about her own creation to the point of contradicting herself, but that the whole crew, full of remarkfull writers and storytellers, are also doing it. No one said “oh, wait, this is confusing. We’re telling two opposite stories, one about two girls growing up and learning how to love each other, and the other about dissociating from yourself and mindlessly beating people without any connection or growth”. Like, if not even in the crew it is safe to discuss a narrative, the fandom will never be. That’s what i’m learning, even if I still like to see Catra and Catradora Fanart.

#shera fandom #spop meta #spop #spop fandom #adora x catra #catradora #catra shera #she ra catra #catra #adora shera #she ra #shera #shera adora #catra spop #meta #she ra and the princesses of power #she ra spop

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fictionalrambles · 4 years

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Shadowhunters Fandom Story - Part Seventeen

Submitted by @archeryandeyeliner

Five Fave Fics

Lightwood-Bane Family Series by Fanatic_weirdo

Why I love this series: This was one of those fics for me that had me up until 4am on a work night, but I just couldn’t stop reading. Every single story in this series hits the reader in a different way. It deals with immortality in a way I have yet to see another fic handle. It works in Max and Rafael to a point where I was almost more invested in their stories than Malec’s, which is incredibly hard to do. The reader gets Malec as immortal husbands and father’s to two children who the reader can’t help but fall in love with.

Favorite work in the series: This is Me (Fighting for you) follows the love story between Max Lightwood-Bane and Chris, Shadowhunter and Parabatai to his brother, Rafael.

Favorite quote: “He’s getting married,” Max whispered. Every word harder to say than the last as he tried to breathe against the feeling in his chest that made it feel like his throat was closing. “And not to me.” That broke the dam and now the sobs were back. Heaving and ripping out of his throat as he gripped one of their shirts as tightly as he could, desperate to keep from drowning.

Magnus and Alec had tears of their own trickling down their faces at their child’s pain. They knew it wasn’t just a teenage heartbreak. What Max and Chris had was as real as what Magnus and Alec had.

“Please fix it, Daddy,” Max begged, his face contorted in agony. A sob came from Alec’s throat as every instinct in him told him to do what was ingrained in parents to do and ‘fix it’.

“I want you to kiss me,” Max whispered. Chris moved forward but another hand on his chest stopped him, “But I won’t be able to bear it when you stop.”

Support System by @bytheangell

Why I love this fic: Elle has always been one of my favorite authors in the fandom and someone I’m lucky enough to call a friend. This was one of the first chaptered fics I ever read for the fandom and it pulled me in like no other. The dynamic between Magnus and Alec was so perfectly written and the storyline truly helped me with accepting the inevitable end of the tv series. Throughout the entire fic, you just want them to get their act together. The missed opportunities are plenty and when they do finally meet, it’s just as beautiful as the reader could hope for.

Favorite quotes: “Why don’t you just tell him?” It’s a question Alec asks himself every day, and the answer he gives himself is the same one he hears come from behind the rim of a martini glass.

“Because if he doesn’t, and I ruin this friendship now, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Alec picks up the thought without missing a beat. He doesn’t know what this guy’s situation is, but he can certainly relate to the general concept. “And even if he does, and it doesn’t work out… It’s safer to keep what you have than risk losing everything.”

“...but then I wonder what if he’s sitting there, thinking the same thing? What if we’re both just waiting for the other to make the first move? Hell, what if it’s worth the risk?”

Magnus’ eyes aren’t on the billboard; they’re on the man standing next to him. Alec is conveniently unaware with his attention dutifully turned upward. He knows he should be looking up as well since the billboard is what they came here to see, but honestly, he’s enjoying this particular view much more... Especially now that the edges of Alec’s lips are curling up in a soft look of appreciation he probably isn’t even aware he’s making - the pure joy of his expression is enchanting. So while everyone else’s gaze is focused upward Magnus’ eyes linger on Alec. He doesn’t know what everyone else is looking at - Magnus can’t imagine a more captivating sight than the one he’s currently taking in.

Angel's Treasure by @msalexiscriss

Why I love this fic: I read this fic during a slow day at work. I sat in line at Dunkin Donuts, opened it on my phone in full, and drove to work with it ready to skim during the day. I was captured by it. I am not usually a fan of these kinds of AU’s, but this fic had me neglecting all of my adult responsibilities. The adventures that they go through together and the love they have for each other was everything I needed at that moment and it will forever hold a special place in my heart.

Favorite quotes: “No, what are you doing!?” He berated himself in the back of his mind. “You’re caring about the boy and you can’t! You can’t!” He told to himself, trying to close his eyes and go back to sleep.

But his mind kept taking him back to the first time he had seen Alec in the square in Alicante, to the day the boy had helped him out of prison, to the day when, in an attempt to protect his father’s honor, he had tried to kill him; to their time in the Spiral, to their little stroll in Cadiz, to their perfect adventure in Cartagena. There was a memory of Alec in every day since they had met and Magnus hated that.

He hated it because he was starting to feel guilty, something that had not happened before. Every time he recalled one of those moments all he could see in Alec’s eyes was trust, and Magnus knew he was not worthy of such thing. Alec didn’t do it on purpose, of course, it was in his nature. Alec was one of those men who had a blind faith in humanity—and that was either a blessing or a curse.

“The fact that you’re a pirate doesn't make you a bad person.”

“What?” Magnus asked just to make sure he had heard correctly.

“Not all pirates are bad.” Alec said. “You’re not bad...I mean, you’ve committed crimes and all, but you’re not a bad person. I know you’re a good man.”

Magnus tried to laugh at the sudden compliment, like Raphael and Ragnor seemed to be doing, but he couldn't. What Alec had just said had touched him deeply. And even though he was not sure if he deserved the praise, he was grateful that his skin had the right tone to hide those uncontrollable accumulations of blood, because after more than 108 years, give or take, Magnus Bane, immortal pirate and once captain of the world's fastest ship, had blushed.

Appassionato by @chonideno

Why I love this fic: There’s something so soft and wonderful about Malec falling in love with only their mutual love of music. Throughout the entire story, I didn’t mind that they hadn’t met. They fall in love with each other through every piece of music that Magnus requests and Alec seduces him with every brush of his fingers over the keys. I wanted Alec to keep fulfilling his love for his gift and Magnus’ little notes made it even better, for both the reader and Alec. This fic is nothing less than poetic in nature and every single piece Alec played for his tiny audience had me captured without actually hearing the music.

Favorite quotes: There’s a note on the doorstep.

Alec bends over, picks it up and closes the door. It’s a thin piece of paper coming from some kind of notepad. Something is handwritten on it; the ink is a deep purple (really? who writes in purple ink?) and the words flow with grace despite having obviously been written in a rush. The letters are inclined, in cursive, elegant. Even more pleasing to the eyes, instead of a complaint, Alec reads a love letter.

“A humble request to the pianist: Liebesträume no 3 in A flat.”

A request. Someone heard him and when they could have ignored him or asked him to stop, they want more. They want more. A wild shiver runs down Alec’s back. He has an audience.

On Tuesday, his neighbor sounds tired, so Magnus requests a simple Goldberg Variation.

On Wednesday, his neighbor plays for a full hour without stopping so Magnus requests the short and jumpy Maple Leaf Rag, hoping to tire him out and allow him to sleep.

On Thursday, Magnus finds a large plate full of muffins of all sorts on his neighbor’s doormat; chocolate, caramel, blueberry, vanilla – only good stuff. They all look homemade too, all soft and perfectly baked. Still warm for some, they smell absolutely delicious. Magnus can’t believe it. It’s for him. His neighbor made all of this for him. He leaves his note and carefully takes the plate as if he had just found a pirate’s treasure. Of all things he owns, of all the silks and cashmeres he’s touched, nothing is quite as precious as a plate of baked goods prepared with love. Later this night, biting into the muffin version of an apple crumble as Alec delights him with Saint-Saëns’ Swan, Magnus wonders what he did to deserve this seat in heaven.

“I have one last humble request, if you let me,” Magnus smiles, visibly proud of having used the perfect phrasing. He steps even closer, his hands joined together under his chest as he rubs his own palms gently. “Please, teach me,” he almost whispers.

Alec raises an eyebrow. This doesn’t make sense, Magnus always seemed to be such an expert. “Teach you? What do you mean, you don’t play it?”

Magnus’ eyes dart to the left. “I know a lot about music but I’ve never really…” he moves his hands around, looking for a word. “Taken the time to learn myself.” He locks his gaze back into Alec’s eyes. “So let’s make a deal. Keep the piano and give me lessons in return.”

Wild Life by crazyellephant

Why I love this fic: There’s something about two strangers who meet in the craziest of ways that just gives a reader hope for their own future. Magnus is so entirely lovable and Alec was a goner the second he decided to ask Magnus along for the ride. With every new character who sees them falling in love, the reader learns a little more about both Magnus and Alec and it makes the reader fall in love with them separately before they even want them together. These two were insufferable the entire fic and I just wanted them to have their happily ever after.

Favorite quotes: In this life, Alec is just the guy who was nice enough to have picked up this hitchhiker. And tomorrow, quite possibly, they’re going to go their separate ways.

"Hey, Alec." Magnus said, his voice echoing in the room. Alec grunted to acknowledge he was still awake. "Thank you for coming back to pick me up and staying with me tonight."

Alec turned and lay on his back, his hands resting on his stomach. He looked at Magnus and smiled. "No problem. My conscience wouldn’t have let me live it down if I heard you died there or something."

"Magnus?" Alec asked, voice catching in his throat.

"Hm?" Magnus responded.

"I really like you." Alec all but whispered his confession, aware of how very close they were. He held his breath, waiting for Magnus to say something.

Magnus smiled wider. "I really like you, too." He confessed.

Attached to her message is a screenshot of Magnus' Instagram page. Trust his sister to already be following probably all of Magnus' social media accounts. It was a picture of the two of them. Magnus had jumped on Alec for a piggyback, his arms around Alec, hands resting on Alec's chest, Alec's hands circled back around Magnus' thighs to keep him steady. Magnus' had his chin on Alec's shoulder and both of them were smiling. It was taken by a friendly tourist when they were at Lipan point earlier that day, with the view of the Grand Canyon right behind them.

On the caption Magnus had written:

Most handsome mule at the #GrandCanyon. ;) #OrIsItStubbornAss #besttimeever #adventure #mine

Author Story

I had always been terrified of posting my writing. I’ve written for years, upwards of 15 at this point in time. I have notebooks filled with stories dating back to my freshman year in high school, none of which have ever (or will ever) see the light of day. There was something so… satisfying, about posting my first story for this fandom. It wasn’t anything amazing now that I look back on it, but it spurred my creativity and had me yearning to write. It had been years before I posted my first fic that I had actually sat down and written a story. Now, a few days go by without writing and I feel lost.

I have this fandom to thank for that. I’ve met the most brilliant, talented, kind people that I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing through Shadowhunters. Every author mentioned and so many more inspire my own writing every single day. Writing is… hard. It’s impossible to always feel good about what you put on a page, but to have fans of the show tell you that your writing made them feel something is unimaginable. I’ve had people tell me that my writing makes them cry because of angst, have to take a cold shower because of smut, makes them curl up in a ball and squeal because of fluff; it honestly means everything.

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction blog

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alonely-dreamer · 5 years

Text

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 9

Summary: Godric and his district receive Nan Flanagan’s visit after the Fellowship of the Sun fiasco.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+ (terrible smut ahead)

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 7219

Schedule: Next chapter will be posted on November 4

Masterlist

The sky was a light blue and dawn wasn’t far away as they drove back to the hotel in silence. Sookie and Brooklynne couldn’t wait to get back and lay down on their bed. They had just spent the most horrible couple of days, and they were impatient to be done and go home.

Eric booked a room for Jason, and Sookie was too tired to even think of asking him to get one for himself. The vampire let Brooklynne take a shower first and she collapsed on the bed as soon as she was out, but when he got out of the bathroom, she still wasn’t sleeping.

“I thought you’d be tired,” he said as he sat on his side of the bed.

“I’m exhausted.”

“What’s keeping you up?”

“All of it… Being stuck in that cage for two days… the explosion… I still can’t believe that man hated vampires so much he was ready to die if it meant taking at least one of you with him.”

“Hate is a powerful weapon.”

“And Steve Newlin won’t even be blamed for it.”

“I doubt it.”

She sighed. She turned around to face him, looking up at him from where her head was resting on the red silk pillow. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You could have died.”

“It certainly was a possibility.”

“Then why did you do it?” If you don’t care, like you keep saying, she thought.

“I don’t know,” he said, being surprisingly honest with her.

“Godric is a good man.”

“Godric isn’t a man.”

“You may be vampires but you’re still men.”

“You’re exhausted, you don’t know what you’re saying,” he said, and she laughed.

“I know what I’m saying. And I mean it.”

“Then you’re a fool, Brooklynne Stackhouse.”

“Well, that’s not nice.”

“Sleep,” he told her. “We’ll have a lot to answer for tonight.”

“What do you mean?” she frowned.

“What happened last night will be all over the news. Which means we’ve attracted the unwanted attention of the AVL.”

“The American Vampire League…”

“Yes. They’re a pain in the ass, but they work for the Authority. They have power.”

“What’s the Authority?”

“A story for another time. Sleep.”

She sighed again. She was exhausted and she did want to sleep, but she was afraid of what she’d see once she closed her eyes.

“Sleep well, Eric.”

He looked down at her, lying beside him, with her eyes closed.

“Sleep well,” he said, but she had already fallen asleep.

***

Eric had been right, which didn’t surprise Brooklynne at all. The AVL was there, and the meeting was set at midnight. Bill, Sookie and Brooklynne were expected to attend as they had a few questions to answer. Eric was in a foul mood. He knew they were going to try and blame Godric, and he didn’t want to hear it. Nan Flanagan, the official AVL spokesperson, had come all the way to Dallas and booked the biggest suite of the hotel which, according to Eric, only meant they were seriously pissed and that heads would roll.

But Eric wasn’t the only one who had been right. Sookie hadn’t lied about the effect Eric’s blood would have on Brooklynne. She was indeed thinking about him more, and even though she was glad she hadn’t had any dreams about him yet, especially since he was sleeping right next to her, she could feel the attraction, and she could hardly keep her eyes off him. She woke up late in the afternoon and had escaped her room and joined her brother in his, hoping to avoid the vampire. But now, they were going to be in the same room for the rest of the night, and she couldn’t stop looking at him.

Nan was already waiting for them in the living room when they entered. She was sitting on a white faux leather footstool, near the two couches of the same fashion. Godric and Isabel had arrived first and were seated on the couch on her right. Bill, Sookie and Brooklynne were facing them, seated on the couch on Nan’s left. Eric had chosen a footstool near Brooklynne, facing both his maker, and the spokesperson. He didn’t look happy. Neither did she.

“Do you have any idea of the PR mess you’ve made?” she told them. “And who has to fucking clean that shit up? Me. Not you. Me. I should drain every one of you bastards.”

“Stan went after the church on his own,” Eric said. “None of us knew anything about it.”

“Oh really? Because everyone who’s met Stan in the last 300 years knew that he had a kink about slaughtering humans. But you, his nest mates, his sheriff, had no clue.”

Stan had been an (un)fortunate casualty of Luke’s suicide bombing, so now, the AVL needed a scapegoat and Eric would be damned if he let the AVL put the blame on his maker.

“And how were we supposed to know that this time he meant it?” Isabel asked.

“Not my problem. Yours,” she said as her eyes fell on Godric.

“Don’t talk to him that way,” Eric threatened her.

“Don’t talk to me that way,” she calmly warned him. “Let’s get to the point. How’d they manage to abduct you?”

“They would have taken one of us sooner or later,” Godric answered. “I offered myself.”

The information was news to Eric, who not only didn’t like it, but it also made him confused and scared for his maker.

“Why?” Nan asked, obviously surprised and confused herself.

“Why not?”

“They wanted you to meet the sun and you were willing?” she raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was stupid, or insane, or both.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re out of your mind.”

Eric thought the same. He didn’t look angry anymore, it was as if he had just understood something, something terrible, something he didn’t want to believe, something that made him sad. It took Brooklynne everything she had in her not to take his hand. She knew he wouldn’t like it, not now, not in the company of Nan or her bodyguards. It would be seen as weakness and he wouldn’t have it.

“And then I hear about a traitor?” Nan asked.

“Irrelevant. Only a rumor,” Godric told her. I’ll take full responsibility.”

“You bet you will.”

“You cold bitch,” Eric snarled.

“Listen. This is a national vampire disaster. And nobody at the top has any sympathy for any of you,” she explained to him before she returned her attention to Godric. “Sheriff, you fucked up. You’re fired.”

“I agree,” he nodded, “of course. Isabel should take over. She had no part in my disgrace.”

“Godric,” she said, stunned and confused. “Fight back.”

“What are you saying?” Eric asked, as stunned and confused as Isabel was. “She’s a bureaucrat. You don’t have to take shit from her!”

“You wanna lose your area, Viking?”

“Oh, you don’t have that kind of power.”

“Hey, I’m on TV. Try me,” she shrugged with a smile.

“I’m to blame. I should have contained Stan the second Godric went missing.”

“Isabel,” he stopped her. “I remove myself from all positions of authority.”

Eric breathed out. He didn’t recognize his maker. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it, too baffled to find the words.

“Works for me,” Nan said. “Come to my suite and fill out the forms.”

“Soon,” he nodded. “First, I have something to say,” he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry. I apologize for all the harm I’ve caused, for all our lost ones, human and vampire. I will make amends. I swear it.”

Nan grimaced. “Take it easy, it’s just a few signatures,” she said as she got up, tapping his shoulder twice before she left the room, followed by her people.

Godric got up as well but he was stopped by his progeny who blocked his way to the door.

“No,” he said. He knew, he understood, even though he didn’t really. He saw the pain, he saw the problem, but he didn’t like the solution his maker had chosen.

“Look in my heart.”

“You have to listen to me.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“There is.”

Godric sighed. “On the roof,” he said before he walked out.

Brooklynne didn’t recognize the look on Eric’s face. She never thought she’d ever get to see him like this. He looked confused and destroyed. He felt helpless, and so did she, as she had no idea how to fix it.

“Eric,” she whispered as she took a step forward, then took his hand. She didn’t know what else to say, but she wanted to be there, even though he probably didn’t need her.

He slightly squeezed her hand, acknowledging her presence without looking back at her, but then let it go and turned around, following his maker’s footsteps.

“It’s going to be dawn in a little while,” Sookie said.

“I know.”

“I’m gonna find Godric.”

“Sookie, this has nothing to do with us. You’ve done enough for Dallas,” Bill told her.

“I’ll go,” Brooklynne said.

“What can you do?” Bill asked, trying to stop her.

“I’ll just… be there.”

She gave a look to her sister, who knew she couldn’t stop her, but also didn’t want to. No one deserved to die alone, and Eric couldn’t be up there when Godric met the sun, so someone else had to.

She found them on the roof. They were arguing, and she felt uncomfortable, she didn’t want to interrupt them, so she stayed behind, at the top of the stairs, waiting for the right time.

The sky was becoming brighter as the sun was about to rise and Eric tried, he gave everything he had, to make his maker change his mind.

“Two thousand years is enough.”

“I can’t accept this. It’s insanity!”

“Our existence is insanity. We don’t belong here.”

“But we are here!”

“It’s not right. We’re not right.”

“You taught me there is no right and wrong. Only survival or death.”

“I told a lie, as it turns out.”

“I will keep you alive by force!”

“Even if you could, why would you be so cruel?”

Eric swallowed, desperation coming to replace his anger. “Godric don’t do it,” he begged in Swedish.

“There are centuries of faith and love between us.”

Eric started crying, tears of blood filling his eyes, a lump forming in his throat.

“Please, please,” he sobbed between two breaths as he fell to his knees. “Please, Godric.”

“Father. Brother. Son,” he continued. “Let me go,” he said, in English this time.

Eric tried to compose himself, taking a deep breath as he straightened up, but avoided his maker’s eyes, tears of blood making their way down his cheeks.

“I won’t let you die alone.”

“Yes, you will,” Godric said, and more tears of blood found their way on Eric’s face.

Godric put a hand on his progeny’s head and stroke his hair once, then twice, before resting it on his nape. Eric rose to finally look up at him.

“As your maker,” he said. “I command you.”

Eric stood up, like he was ordered. His maker gave him a small smile, which Eric tried to return, before he turned around and found Brooklynne standing there, at the top of the stairs. She gave him a sad look as he approached her. Eric turned to take one last look at his maker and Brooklynne took his hand, encouraging him to go back inside, as the sun was rising in the horizon.

“I’ll stay with him,” she told him. “As long as it takes.”

He nodded, avoiding her gaze, before he walked away, leaving her alone with his maker.

“It won’t take long,” Godric said as she approached him. “Not at my age.” He turned around to face her, he too had tears of blood in his eyes. “Do you believe in God?”

“I don’t. But Sookie does. My Gran did.”

“If they’re right… how do you think He’ll punish me?”

“Well… my Gran would say that God doesn’t punish. God forgives.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.”

He laughed quietly. “You don’t know me.”

“I know enough.”

He gave her a small smile. “You’ll care for him?”

She frowned, confused for a second, but then nodded. “I… I’ll try. I don’t think he’ll want anyone to care for him. You know how he is.”

“I can take the blame for that too,” Godric smiled.

“Maybe not. Eric’s pretty much… Eric.”

Godric nodded. He then turned around, to face the rising sun. Brooklynne’s heart tightened inside her chest and she tried to swallow the lump appearing in her throat.

“Aren’t you scared?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I… I’m full of joy,” he breathed out a laugh as if he were surprised.

“But… the sun… the pain…”

“I want to burn,” he assured her.

“Well,” she sniffed, “I’m scared for you.”

“A human with me at the end,” he smiled, and she wiped her wet cheeks, “and human tears… Two thousand years, and I can still be surprised. In this I see God.”

His skin was starting to burn and as the sun rose higher and brighter, he gestured for her to step back. He turned around, fully facing the light, unbuttoning his white shirt which he let fall on the ground.

“Goodbye Godric,” Brooklynne said as a tear fell down her cheek, and he opened his arms to embrace the sun.

His body turned into blue flames which consumed him so fast she didn’t even have time to gasp as he disappeared silently before her eyes.

***

The blue skirt of Brooklynne’s dress caressed her thighs as she walked through the hotel’s hallways. She tried to dry her tears before she reached her room. She didn’t know what to expect once she opened the door. Would Eric even be inside? It was daytime, so he had to be in the hotel. She hoped he wasn’t doing anything stupid.

She slowly opened the door of her room and found Eric sitting on her side of the bed, looking down at his feet. He didn’t acknowledge her as she stepped inside. She saw the trails of blood on his cheeks, the tears falling onto his chest, staining his white shirt. She silently made her way to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Godric is gone,” he said.

“Yes. I’m so sorry,” she replied as she slid a hand in his hair.

She couldn’t say she knew how he felt, because she had no idea what losing a maker felt like, or what it felt like to lose someone you’ve known for a thousand years, but she knew loss. She knew how it felt to lose a parent. She had lost three. There was nothing she could say that could make it better, that would make his grief go away. He had to go through it to accept it.

“Did he suffer?” he asked as he took the hand she had in his hair.

“No.”

He sniffed as he nodded. “Thank you. For staying with him.”

“Of course.”

She moved her hand from his shoulder to his face, cupping his cheek. She’d have wiped his tears away if she could, but all it would do was spread the blood on his face, making it worse. She didn’t know if it was because of his blood that was now part of her, or if she’d have done the same even without it, but she wanted to be close to him, to take care of him. She wondered if he’d let her.

“Come on,” she said as she took a step back and gently pulled him off the bed.

He frowned but allowed her to drag him to the bathroom. She took him to the sink, where she picked up a cloth. She opened the tap and wetted it with warm water, though she doubted he’d be bothered by anything cold. She turned towards him, wanting to clean the blood from his chest and face, but stopped when she realized he was too tall and that it would be more complicated than she had first thought. Understanding the problem, Eric put his hands on her waist, and made her sit on the counter with supernatural speed. She gasped, surprised by the unexpected movement.

“I told you not to do that,” she told him, and she thought she saw a smile on his face for a second.

She took a look at his chest and took the bloody top of his shirt between a finger and a thumb, tucking it down slightly to give her access to the blood that had dried on his skin. But she didn’t have to bother for long as he removed his shirt completely. She looked up at him for a quick moment before she started cleaning the blood off the top of his torso. He let her work in silence, and she could feel his eyes on her, never leaving her face. She tried to ignore it, tried not to blush too hard, but when she reached his face, it became harder to ignore his intense gaze.

Never in a million years would she have imagined being in this kind of situation, especially not with Eric. She’d always thought she’d be alone her entire life and being this close to someone had seemed like an impossibility just a week before. She never really thought about it either. Never gave too much thought about her future, or about anything. She never had the clarity of mind to do so. But now that she did, she didn’t know what to do. What was normal? What was expected of her? She’d always been different, did she really want that to change? She didn’t care about being ‘abnormal’, she just wanted to be free. Free of the voices, free of the house. Free to make her own choices. For once. And maybe Sookie wouldn’t like it, but she didn’t care. She’d make her own choices, she’d live her life, at last.

She left the bloody cloth in the sink after she was done. She placed her hands on each side of his clean face and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. He didn’t look bothered. She could see his pain in his eyes. His eyes that were looking right at her, exploring her, like he was seeing her for the first time, getting to know her, maybe looking for something, something familiar, something that he needed. He looked like he found what he was looking for.

“Thank you,” he said as he leaned into her touch.

“What do you need?”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised, though he guessed he shouldn’t really be. She had a good soul, she’d want to help him in any way she could. He considered it for a moment. Could he ask that of her? Knowing she’d probably say yes because she wouldn’t say no to anything right now. Could he take what he wanted from her now, something he’d wanted ever since he had first met her, ever since she sat on his lap the first time, smiling back at him like he wasn’t the most dangerous person she’d ever met. She was careless, or at least she used to be, before he helped her cast the voices away, before he helped her find her own, find some lucidity in her life. But even after she found peace and quiet, she’d stayed with him, she hadn’t backed away like her sister had probably told her to. She was here, worried about him, wanting to help him, even after she’d found out about Lafayette. If he were a good person, he’d probably let her go. He wouldn’t be selfish, and he would stay as far away from her as possible. But right now, now that Godric was gone, it was he who had lost clarity. Even though he doubted that if he weren’t in pain at this moment, he’d probably still be doing what he was about to do.

“Are you ready to give me what I need?” he asked as he leaned forward, his hands moving from the counter to her waist as his eyes slowly fell on her neck.

A shaky breath escaped her. “Would it make you feel better?” she asked in a whisper.

“It’ll help.”

His answer was low but clear. She slowly brought a hand to her shoulder, brushing the hair away before she tilted her head, giving him access to her neck. He moved slowly, his nose sliding up her skin before his cold lips found her vein. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to come, but it never did. He moved up slightly, his cold breath reaching her ear.

“That’s not what I meant,” he murmured.

She frowned and found his eyes as he moved away from her neck, his face still inches from hers. Her mouth opened when she understood what he was saying, but no sound came out of it as she was rendered speechless. She was barely breathing, he wasn’t at all. He trapped her chin in his fingers, his eyes falling on her lips. She closed her mouth quickly and tried to swallow her nervousness away. She drew a shaky breath as he brushed his nose against hers. She waited for him without realizing it. Time had stopped and seconds turned to hours as he still wasn’t moving. She didn’t know what to do, her thoughts were colliding together in her mind, making it impossible for her to make a decision. Eventually, she moved, instinctively maybe, or because she was getting impatient, because she wanted it, needed it, but she raised her head, so slightly maybe it wasn’t even anything, but he saw it. He saw it for what it was or for what he wanted it to be: permission.

His lips found hers quickly, urgently, a bit roughly. She reacted immediately, kissing him back. He pulled her to him and her chest crashed into his, his hand resting on her lower back. Her hands left the counter to find a place on his bare chest. His fingers slid in her hair, holding her head in place as he kissed her. She didn’t know what she was doing, but he did. He slightly opened his mouth, his tongue licking her lips, pushing for access, access that she granted. She let his tongue wander on her lips, in her mouth, let him play with her own. A moan escaped her as she felt his hand move from her back to her hip, down to her thigh. He pushed the skirt away, his fingers travelling on her skin, going high, higher than she should let him.

His long and cold fingers reached the top of her thigh, his thumb stroking her skin once, before his caresses moved up. But they didn’t take the direction that she feared. His fingers returned to her waist, his thumb going up, not stopping until he reached her bra. Her breasts were surprisingly heavy for someone her size. He didn’t bother to take it off, he went over it, sliding his thumb inside the cup, making her gasp and break the kiss. But he didn’t stop. He captured her lips again as he found the pink and hard button he was looking for. Bothered by all the layers covering her, he didn’t play with it for long before he removed his hand from under her dress, surprised she had let him go so far.

He broke the kiss as both his hands found her lower back and he pulled her to him, fast and hard, taking her by surprise. She didn’t even feel him lift her. One second she was sitting on the counter, and the next she was back in the bedroom, lying on the bed. He was kneeling before her, his imposing figure towering above her. His right knee brushed against her left leg as it went up, and up, opening her legs. The skirt of her dress curled up, concealing her underwear. She felt her cheeks turn red as his eyes travelled, oh so slowly, from her bare legs to her eyes. She swallowed as he locked his gaze with hers. He leaned forward, his right hand coming to rest on the soft mattress near her head. His face approached hers unhurriedly and she tried hard not to look away. She closed her eyes, however, when she felt his fingers on her thigh once more.

“Are you ready to give me what I need?” he repeated, whispering in her ear.

Her heart had never beaten faster, she felt like it was about to leave her chest. Giving him her blood was one thing but giving him her body was another. At that moment, she wished she knew what he was thinking. Or maybe, it was better that she didn’t. She wasn’t ready for this. She hadn’t expected this. Nor did she expect to want it, and yet, despite the fear, despite the unknown, she did. She wanted to know what it would feel like to be with him. She wanted to do what it would feel like to be cared for by him.

“Yes,” she replied, so low only he could have heard her.

She had barely said the word that his lips were on hers once again. His right hand fisted the bedsheet as his left moved up her thigh. He pulled on the dress once, to warn her about what he was about to do, which she didn’t understand at all. He tore the blue dress apart, leaving her in her pink underwear. She gasped as she felt the fabric leave her body. Her right breast was already coming out of its cup thanks to Eric’s earlier exploration. His lips left hers, stopping on her chin, then on her throat, then on her upper chest before they found her cleavage. She shivered as his cold fingers slid beneath her and reached the clasp of her bra. He threw it away across the room. She immediately had the reflex to cover herself, but he stopped her, gently grabbing her wrists. He looked up at her, but when she looked away, he put her arms up above her head, pressing her wrists against the mattress. She couldn’t move when all she wanted was to cover herself.

“Don’t,” he said as she tried to free her hands.

She begged him with her eyes, a faint sob escaping her throat. He pressed a gentle kiss on her lips before he returned his attention to her breast. She looked up at the ceiling as his nose slid down her cleavage. He lowered her arms that he kept pinned against the mattress. His lips kissed her right breast, his tongue licked her nipple before he trapped it in his mouth. A shaky breath escaped her as he played with one of the most intimate parts of herself. He eventually let go of her arms but only so he could play with her left nipple. He caressed it with his thumb, over and over again, and he could feel it harden under his touch. She moaned, suddenly finding pleasure as she relaxed under him.

His right hand abandoned her left nipple and slid down her body, finding the waistband of her underwear. She instantly put a hand over his, but it didn’t stop him. He slid a finger under it, and her gasp didn’t make him stop either. He released her nipple and kissed his way back up to her face as he slid another finger under her panties. She drew a long breath as his fingers found the most intimate part of her body.

“You’re already wet for me,” he said as he looked down. Heat invaded her face and even more so when he looked back up at her. “Up,” he instructed her, and she gave him a confused look, which he found more arousing than perhaps it should have.

He tugged at her underwear to make her understand. She silently obeyed, lifting herself up slightly to allow him to remove her damp panties.

“Good girl,” he smirked, and even though she thought it wouldn’t be humanly possible for her to blush even more, she did.

His fingers returned to her wet lips and she closed her eyes at his cold touch.

“Breathe,” he told her, and she realized she was holding her breath. “Make me stop,” he said, and even though it sounded like a challenge, she knew what he meant. They could stop this at any moment, any second, if she wanted to.

She watched as he left the bed and knelt on the floor. He put a kiss on her right leg, then another, kissing his way up her inner thigh, eventually reaching the hot mess between her legs. She looked up at the ceiling, unable to meet his gaze, as she covered her face with her hands. She whimpered as his tongue licked her lips. He slowly licked up his way to the one thing he wanted right now, the button that would have her crumble completely. He pulled her closer to him, her legs resting on his shoulders. His mouth closed on her, making her moan. He licked the button, that bundle of nerves, played with it, slowly at first, then faster, and faster, and faster, faster than any human could have done. She didn’t know what to do with herself as pleasure built up inside her, taking over her muscles, her thoughts, her entire mind. She couldn’t think, unintelligible words coming out of her mouth. His name maybe was the only thing they could both understand.

She shattered completely on the bed after a few minutes. His hands keeping her trembling body still as he wouldn’t let go, as he carried her through her first orgasm. She was panting when he finally let go, kissing the inside of her thigh before he stood up. He watched as her body kept twitching, as she tried to catch her breath. When she realized he was seeing her wholly, completely, she moved up a leg, trying to conceal herself, as if he hadn’t seen all of her yet. She propped herself up on her elbows, looking back at him, waiting in confusion. His hands reached his pants, and she watched as he unbuttoned his jeans. He took everything off, exposing himself to her like she was exposed to him. Her eyes grew big as she saw his length, a shaky breath escaping her lips as she moved back a little as she looked up at him.

“Make me stop,” he repeated, offering her a way out.

She swallowed, her throat feeling dry, considering it. But she shook her head as she whispered: “I don’t wanna stop.”

“Good,” he said as he knelt on the bed, making his way back to her.

He kissed her, roughly, his lips crashing on hers. She let him push her back onto the mattress as she kissed him back, sliding her fingers into his hair. His own fingers found their way back to her wet folds and she gasped as this time, he wasn’t going to stop there. He slid a finger slowly into her, the unfamiliar touch made her feel uncomfortable. At first. But as he kissed her, as he pushed his finger in and out, she became more and more aroused and eager. She moved her hips to meet his movement, and he slid a second finger into her. The pressure only lasted a few seconds before pleasure found her. She knew what he was doing, she’d read enough books to know that she needed to be ready for a man of his size. But the books hadn’t been nearly indicative of how it all felt. She felt dazed, drowning in pleasure but also in uncertainty and nervousness. She was light-headed, her core burning at the idea of giving him what he wanted while he was giving her what she needed. That need that he had put inside of her, that his touch had created. He was a thief, stealing everything from her, her breath, her clarity, herself. Everything she was and everything she had was his. She was at his mercy as his fingers entered her, made her moan, made her forget everything else but his lips on her neck and his hands on her body.

She groaned as he slid a third finger, perhaps too early, inside of her. The pressure lasted longer as his long fingers opened her up, made her ready for what was to come. What she had promised him, what she could take away at any time if she wanted. He had given her so much power, he too was at her mercy as she could stop it all before it even started. But she wouldn’t be so cruel. She wanted to give him everything, just so he could feel a little better, even if it only lasted a second.

As she was getting lost in the building pleasure, he suddenly moved, making them lay on their side. He removed his fingers, resting his hand on her bottom. She put a hand over his but didn’t remove it. He kissed her, slowly this time, more gently than before.

“Make me stop,” he repeated as he put a kiss on her shoulder.

But she didn’t stop him. Not even when she felt him against her thigh. He was cold, she should have known, but hadn’t expected it.

Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind. She should have thought of it before, way earlier, but suddenly, she wondered if he knew. The way he was touching her, the way he was doing everything told her that he did, but she wondered, maybe he was being gentle because she was human, or because of that other reason. Maybe, he didn’t know.

“Wait,” she stopped him, putting a hand on his chest. “I…”

“What?”

She avoided his gaze, feeling embarrassed for not having told him before.

“I… I’m…”

“I know,” he said, and the revelation made her look up at him. “It’s okay. It won’t hurt, not for long,” he told her, and she nodded. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she shook her head.

He resumed what he had started, moving his hand from her bottom to her thigh, lifting it, slightly, but enough, to allow him to find her entrance. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder as she felt the tip of his length reached her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to come.

“Hey,” he whispered so gently it didn’t sound like him. He removed her arm from his neck then cupped her cheek in his hand.

He leaned forward to kiss her, gently, slowly, for a minute, and then another one. To make her forget about the situation they were in below. When she was relaxed, he slowly pushed himself inside of her, making her gasp, then wince as she felt the uncomfortable pressure. He withdrew himself slowly, then entered her once again. He did it a few times until the pressure was gone, until she forgot about it. He went a little further every time, getting her used to his size, but he quickly reached the wall, and she felt it as he did. He never stopped kissing her, not even when she cried out when they became one. He never stopped, never slowed down, his movement only becoming faster as she relaxed in his arms.

She was a moaning mess and every little sound she made filled him with desire. He was so big and so deep inside of her. He could feel her reaching her limit, her early orgasm was to be expected. She cried out his name as she felt it too and his thrust never ceased, not even when she crumbled into his arms. He carried her through the orgasm as it travelled through her like lightning, down her spine to her legs, to her toes. She moaned loudly as she trembled, bliss taking over her quickly, as she felt like she was going to pass out. But the feeling never went away as his hips kept meeting hers, faster and faster. She heard him groan now, though he’d been doing that for a while, she was just now registering her surroundings once again.

He moved suddenly so that she was lying on her back and he was on top of her. He moved her legs up which she locked around his waist like he wanted. She felt him slowing down and even though his pace was becoming too much for her, she knew he wouldn’t find his pleasure if he held back.

“Eric,” she said but it was difficult to find the words. “Don’t… slow down.”

He slowed down, however, misunderstanding her words. He put a kiss on her shoulder before he found her face. She brought a weak hand to his cheek before she tried again.

“Don’t slow down,” she told him, and he tilted his head, silently asking her if she knew what she was asking for. “I want… to give you what you need.”

He raised an eyebrow, and she saw uncertainty in his eyes. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

She shook her head. “I want to give you what you need.”

“You’ve given enough,” he said, straightening up so he was towering over her before he thrusted into her, hard and unexpectedly.

She gasped and moaned at the sudden movement. Despite what he knew was best for her he couldn’t deny there was something deep within him that wanted to take the opportunity to fuck her hard and fast and leave her a sobbing mess until she passed out on his cock. Everything about her was confusing, he wanted to protect her, but he also wanted to destroy her, in the best of ways. She was so innocent and pure and right now his and only his. No man had ever been there before and the idea of another man touching her, making her his, enraged him. He thrusted into her again, harder this time. He was claiming her, and he wanted her forever, another companion for the next thousand years, someone who would never leave him like Godric just did. Someone who would be with him for him, like Godric had found him and chosen him to be his companion. Pam wasn’t it. He loved Pam and he’d spent the rest of forever with her, but she was no Brooklynne Stackhouse. There was something there, a light only a human could have, a light he knew she wouldn’t lose even in the darkness because it was part of her.

He wanted her.

But did she want him?

He leaned forward again and rested his forehead against hers. She took his face in her hands, confused by his sudden silence, waiting for him to move, to say something.

“Be mine.”

It took her by surprise. He didn’t move as he waited for her to answer.

“Give me what I need. Be mine,” he repeated, and it sounded like a plea. He was vulnerable now like he had been on the roof. He had lost someone he loved deeply and now he needed someone to fill that gap. Brooklynne knew she could never fill that gap, but she could be something else, something new, something he needed.

He waited patiently for her to either break his heart or save him. There wasn’t much left of his heart, he kept it hidden, but she’d seen glimpses of it before and she’d seen a lot of it tonight. She was just what his heart needed right now after it had been left vulnerable by Godric’s departure.

She didn’t know what to say. Hadn’t she already given him everything? She was lying under him, at this moment, he was buried deep within her. She had told him her secrets, given him her first kiss, her first everything. What more could she do? Wasn’t she already his?

The next words that came out of her mouth woke something in him. Something raw, something untamed. His lips mashed against her, demanding something, anything, everything. He seized her wrists and pinned them against the mattress above her head. She didn’t think he’d react that way, she didn’t know what she expected to happen, but not this. He was unleashed, free to do with her as he pleased. She was his. His.

He straightened up, towering over her once again, releasing her hands, resuming his thrusts. He was reaching deep inside of her, hard and fast, harder and faster. He growled as he lost himself within her, taking what she offered, what he needed. She moaned and cried out as the world disappeared around her, maybe it hurt or maybe it was just pure bliss, she couldn’t tell. Maybe she passed out, then came back to consciousness just to pass out again. All she knew was his hands on her thighs, his growls and groans in the air. She could only feel him, in and out, in and out, over and over again, so fast she couldn’t even tell the difference anymore. She raised her hands, just to let them fall back on the mattress. She moved her head, right, left, up and down, it didn’t matter, she couldn’t see anything. Time disappeared with her lucidity. Maybe she’d been having one long orgasm that lasted minutes after minutes or maybe she just came over and over again, but it all blended together until he found euphoria between her legs. She cried out as the thrusting stopped. She felt him empty himself inside of her, heard him growl loudly, before he thrusted into her again, once, and twice, making her cry out each time, exhausted and sore.

When he removed himself, she felt like she had just lost a part of her, something that had always been there. He laid down beside her twitching body. She was out of breath, pearls of sweat sliding down her skin. She called his name, missing his touch already, and he brought her to him. She breathed out as she rested her head on his chest, barely aware of where she was. She only knew him and that was enough.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, and she didn’t understand.

“What?” she said, half conscious.

“Did I hurt you?” he reformulated, now more in control of himself, now aware of what he had just done, of what he had been doing for the past hour.

“No.”

“I should have stopped when you passed out the first time.”

“I passed out?”

He caressed her bare shoulder with his fingers, wondering if he should be worried or amused.

“Did I give you what you needed?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Yes.”

He hesitated, wondering if he should let her fall asleep are clean her up. There was blood on the bed, among other substances. But she was already falling asleep.

“Say it again,” he asked while she was still conscious.

“What?”

“Say it again.”

She sighed, tired and content. “I’m yours, Eric.”

“Yes. You are mine.”

*********

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @colie87

#true blood #eric northman #eric x oc #sookie stackhouse #godric #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #imagine #eric x reader #reader #oc

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dontletsstarters · 5 years

Text

Fall To Grace (Paloma Faith) || Starter Sentences

(Change what you need!!)

Picking Up The Pieces

“Do you think of her when you're with me?”

“Repeat the memories you made together. Whose face do you see?”

“Do you wish I was a bit more like her?“

“She's flawless”

“But now she's gone. And I'm picking up the pieces”

“I watch you cry. But you don't see that I'm the one by your side”

“In her shadow is it me you see?“

“'Cause all that's left is you and I“

“And I'm picking up the pieces she left behind”

“I found a photograph behind the TV”

“You looked so happy are you missing the way it used to be?”

“And I have changed this room around more often lately”

“Are we liars in denial?”

“Are we smoke without the fire?”

“Tell me please is this worth it?”

“I deserve it“

30 Minute Love Affair

“All in the blink of an eye”

“There you were standing there”

“I heard an angel cry”

“I soon discovered. It was best when we left it”

“The city led me out one night. Through lonely streets and neon lights”

“I met a stranger singing songs”

“He was so beautiful there in my dreams”

“I left my heart and my memories”

“He told me he'd be there tomorrow“

“I knew where he led, I would follow”

“When I went back he had disappeared“

“My hopeful smile had turned to tears”

“Sometimes it's better just to let them go”

“Cause your illusion's more than what you could know”

“Falling from the sky for him. I'll never regret it“

“He took my breath away”

“And although it was the shortest time. I'll never forget it”

“He gave me such a beautiful lie”

Black & Blue

“I know a man who fills his emptiness, with strangers”

“I know a girl who drinks herself to sleep at night, you can't change her“

“I know people who use chat rooms as confessionals”

“I know down and outs who once were, once they were professionals”

“Wipe it off your sleeve, your superiority”

“Don't roll your eyes, my sweet”

“I know what they'd give for just one loving embrace”

“We're just the same”

“We all get desperate sometimes“

“I know you'll find it hard to accept it sometimes”

“We all feel black and we feel blue“

“I know people who believe in gods and demons“

“I know ones who think there's nothing there at all“

Just Be

“Let's get old together“

“Let's be unhappy forever“

“Cause there's no one else in this world, that I'd rather be unhappy with”

“Let's be exposed and unprotected“

“Let's see one another when we're weak“

“Let's go our separate ways in the night. Like two moths”

“But know that you're flying home to me“

“I was born thinking, it would all be dreamy”

“But I know that I wouldn't be happy that way“

“You wear me out with frustration and heartache and anger“

“But we wait for the wave just to wash it away“

“Don't say nothing“

“Just sit next to me”

“Let's let go together“

“Let us unfold one another”

“And watch all the little things that once drew me to you”

“Eventually get on my nerves“

“You’ll walk out that door”

“That's when I know that you'll stay”

Let Me Down Easy

“Let me down easy”

“All your love for me is gone”

“Since you feel to stay is wrong”

“I know it's all over”

“When you pass by me. Say hello once in a while”

“Does it hurt so much to smile?“

“We promised that we'd still be friends”

“I'm begging you baby“

“I remember our first time“

“It was so nice dear”

“I never thought we'd have to part”

“But now it's all over”

Blood Sweat & Tears

“You tell me I'm a handful. But believe me I know”

“My worst audience is my mirror”

“I put on quite a show”

“Don't think you're perfect either“

“But I love you anyway”

“It takes two imperfect people”

“Oh if you lost your way, and it drove you crazy. You would still have me”

“We work together you'll see”

“I know sometimes it will hurt”

“And you'll wanna hate me”

“But we can conquer the world”

“Leave our footprints on earth”

“I know it'll never be easy”

“We'll bicker and battle and drown in our own sorrow”

“But I know that it all will be worth it”

“If you turn to leave then I'll be shouting no“

“You think that you're my shadow”

“But you're glittering like gold”

“And when I take my mask off”

“It's you I want to hold”

“I thank you for your patience”

“But I am patient too”

“I'll hold you up when you fall down”

“Even if you say I'm rude”

Beauty Of The End

“I miss you in the mornings”

“I'll be alright”

“Maybe someone else'll bring a passion”

“I am torn and raw.”

“I miss you in the moments, when it all stops”

“Listen to the silence“

“That hurts my heart”

“Maybe someday we will meet again”

“The beauty of the end”

“To my long lost friend”

“So it stays with me forever“

“Falling never hurts but landing does.”

“I miss you when I'm laughing”

“But then I open up my eyes”

“Maybe one day you will understand“

“I did it all for you.“

“And I'm just as scared as you about this freedom”

“But I need to run with the wind”

“Nothing in life is easy.”

When You're Gone

“When I'm with you my heart sings of a joy“

“For your touch there are no words”

“I fly with high hopes and the birds”

“And I know there's nothing better 'cause I'm smiling”

“Everyone I've ever loved has left me lonely”

“Every time I let it go I'm high and dry”

“Every time I think I'm one and only”

“I find myself alone not knowing why”

“All the mystery and the magic”

“You light up what once was tragic”

“And I know that I will miss you when you're gone”

“I could never have imagined”

“All the heavens pour with passion”

“You tell me that you are different”

“I'll be saved and I'll be lifted”

“It's not easy but I'm trying to believe you”

“All the angels lost their halos”

“I have no choice but to let go”

“There are times when I feel paper thin and see-through”

Agony

“You'll be my sorrow”

“We both know it shows”

“Make me feel I'm weightless”

“We will not escape this”

“This is agony”

“But it's still a thrill for me”

“This could end in tragedy”

“Pour yourself all over”

“No time to waste”

“Let's fall from grace”

“Save me with your kisses”

“The angels and their whispered wishes”

“I won’t fall down”

“My soul is bound”

“Everyone says you're bad for my head”

“But I'm in denial”

“One look at your face”

“I'm back in that place”

“I’m feeling the fire”

Let Your Love Walk In

“I long for something simple”

“I long for something real”

“Will this heart heal?”

“All my life been searchin'”

“And though I'm in a crowded room”

“I know you're on your way”

“But I feel lonely now”

“Though I don't see you now”

“So Cupid take your aim and open fire”

“Darlin' I grow weary”

“Please won't you save me”

“I've closed too many doors”

“But I wanna let your love walk in”

“Afraid I am too broken”

“Afraid I can't be free”

“The past bleeds”

“Defined by misdemeanors”

“Made up of my regrets”

“Come and find me”

“Yes I will let your love come in”

Freedom

“If you left me how would i go on?”

“All the right would turn wrong”

“I've had too many heartaches”

“But I know you're my calling to the promise land”

“You're the one who runs through my veins”

“You lift the hurt I've felt before”

“You and me we could own this earth”

“Ditch the dust and dirt”

“I fall to grace and into your arms”

“You've stolen the dark and turned it to stars”

“So won't you stay here”

“Hold my hand for a while”

“Tell me you won't be leaving”

“Cause I've never felt like this”

“Darling you set me free”

“I will never leave you stranded”

“Baby you're the one I need”

“You found me in the gutter”

“I was lost now I believe”

“Say you'll stay and then you'll kiss me”

Streets Of Glory

“There's no angels left in this scene”

“We both landed somewhere in between”

“You can't teach 'cause you'll never learn”

“The more you talk the less it means”

“What I want's not what I need”

“While we're flesh and blood I still bleed”

“I know you're bad for me”

“It may hurt to leave but it's worse to hold your hand”

“The shattered glass it falls upon places where you stand”

“I will be your memento mori”

“While you hide behind your made up story”

“Maybe one day”

“I see you on those streets”

“Take me down to the river”

#rp starters #rp meme #sentence starters #rp prompts #relationship starters #starter meme

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shels-kpop-main · 5 years

Text

Moments, pt. 7

Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader

Word Count: 2450+

Warnings: Language, drinking

A/N: We all deserve Roger having his hair braided by Reader okay. We already know I’m a hoe for Soft Roger, and this chapter is no different. Things’ll be heating up in Chapter 8.

Once the guys were done with their music for the day, you followed them back to the main house. Usually, after spending hours with one another arguing over music and playing their hearts out, everyone liked to take an hour or so for themselves. Only then, after decompressing, would they gradually emerge from their respective rooms in search of food and alcohol. Roger was the only one to stay out during this time, usually just passing out on the couch or watching TV in the living room.

But on that particular day, after he had spent the night next to you, Roger was struck with the urge to spend time with you. Roger trotted up the two flights of stairs to your room, passing Freddie along the way. The latter leaned against the staircase railing as Roger passed him.

“And where are you off to?” Freddie eyed him, smiling mischievously.

“None of your business,” Roger replied, but he was smiling, too.

Roger reached up to knock, like usual, but your door was already open. He walked in slowly, peering around. The radio was on, playing blues softly, but he didn’t hear or see any sign of you.

He crossed to the large wooden dresser next to your bed and looked at the picture there. But he was once again reminded that he couldn’t see squat.

Curiosity got the better of him, though, and he picked up one of the frames to hold it closer to his face. It was a photo of you, around the age of five. You were in overalls and a ridiculous cowboy hat that was too big for you. Your mom always swore it was her favorite photo of you. Upon seeing the photo when you unpacked it, Jim had agreed.

You walked in to find Roger squinting at the frame, mere inches away from his face. He was smiling, so sweet and quiet, you could hardly bring yourself to interrupt him. Your gaze slid down his profile, starting with his nose. Then, the small curves of his lips. Down, over his chin, which had a shadow of stubble on it. Along the flat front of him, and across his forearms, exposed by the sleeves of his shirt being pushed up. You loved it when he wore his shirts like that.

“Hey, Rog,” you spoke softly. Roger’s head whipped around lightning-fast, and his face lit up when he set eyes on you. Those big blue orbs were glassy and bright, and you smiled instinctively in response.

He took in the sight of you as you ran a towel through your still-wet hair. You’d just come out of the bathroom adjacent to your room, and steam from the shower billowed out behind you. You were clad in a t-shirt and loose-fitting ripped jeans.

“Hey, love,” he replied, setting down the photo frame. “Was just admiring your picture there. ‘S cute.”

“Thanks,” you said, and sat down on the edge of the bed. You shook your hair out with the towel again as Roger threw himself sideways across the bed. His head was dangerously close to your lap. He just grinned up at you, though, and you suddenly felt less tired. You reached across him for his left hand, and he lifted his watch without skipping a beat.

7:09 pm.

You reported this out loud to him, and let your hand fall. Roger held on, though, pushing his fingers through yours. You rested your hand against his chest, feeling him breathe. It calmed you, and you didn’t even realize you were staring at his mouth.

“Like what you see?” Roger asked, giving you a shit-eating grin. You snapped out of your reverie, giving him a shove to the arm.

“Shut up,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. But Roger knew he had you. He just laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“You’re a mess,” you scolded, immediately feeling the need to insult him to cover up your embarrassment. Roger gasped in mock offense, sitting up to face you.

“Am not,” he pouted.

“Yes, you are. You’ve got a salsa stain on your shirt. And look at your hair. It’s all messed up.”

“I thought you liked my hair,” Roger said, concerned, looking down the front of his shirt to find the salsa stain.

“I do like your hair. But right now, it looks like a bird’s nest.”

“Think you might have me confused with Brian,” Roger scoffed, scooting forward to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Nope. I stand by my statement,” you replied, looking at him smugly.

“Well, alright, then. What would you have me do?” Roger folded his arms and tilted his head. You thought for a moment, before a brilliant idea hit you.

“Let me braid your hair.”

“What?”

“Let me braid your hair!” You repeated, getting excited. Roger’s eye roll could have been seen from the neighboring farm.

“Are you joking?”

“No, I swear it will look amazing. Please,” you nearly begged.

“Alright. But I’m taking them out before I go downstairs.”

You squealed with delight, and got up to retrieve a brush and some hair ties.

“And if any of the guys ever hear about this,” Roger warned, “I’ll have to flee the country.”

“You have so little faith in me,” you teased, crossing over to your dresser. From the top drawer, you procured a bottle of gin, which you handed to Roger. He raised his eyebrows at you, but unscrewed the cap regardless.

“I’m surprised at you,” he commented, before taking a hearty swig.

“Why? Surely I don’t strike you as the prudish type. Here, sit on the floor.”

“Not a prude,” Roger replied, sitting between your legs on the floor. “Just not the type to hoard alcohol.”

This made you laugh. “It’s only one bottle! I’d hardly call that hoarding.”

“Whatever you say, love,” Roger teased, taking another drink before passing the bottle up to you. You downed a good amount of it, scrunching up your face in response to the taste.

“Alright, hold still,” you told him, and started running the brush through his hair.

It was tangled like crazy, but you patiently worked through all the knots until the brush glided smoothly through his hair. You took your time, slowly sweeping the brush from top to bottom along the back of his head. Then, starting at his temples to move down behind his ears, to the nape of his neck. Roger shivered at the touch of your fingertips, and you pulled away.

“Are you cold?”

“No. That just… that actually feels really good.” His voice was quiet, accompanied by a small chuckle. You smiled to yourself, and brushed his hair for a few more minutes. When you were confident that it was manageable, you set the brush down.

“Alright, come back up here.”

Roger clambered back up to sit next to you. He went to face away from you, but you stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Just face the wall. It’s easier that way.”

“If you say so, love.” Roger closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair. It was actually quite soft now that it was properly combed. It fluffed up a bit around the crown of his head, like a fuzzy crown.

You separated his hair into two halves, one on either side of his head. You started with the right side of his head, pulling apart three distinct sections. Then, you worked them into a braid, twisting and twirling the hair around your fingers. Roger’s eyelids fluttered you’re your fingers brushed against the corner of his jaw, and you tried not to notice it. When you were done with that braid, you secured it with a hair tie. You then got up and crossed in front of Roger to do the other side.

“How’s it look so far?” He asked cautiously.

“Positively marvelous,” you replied, grinning. Roger rolled his eyes, but waited patiently for you to finish the other one. When you were done on his left braid, you got off the bed and knelt in front of him. You tugged at the braids, making sure they were even. Roger’s eyes were on you the whole time, watching your expressions change as you brushed his bangs away from his face.

“Done.” You stepped back to take in the sight of him as a whole.

Roger sat in front of you, eyebrows raised in a smirk, with perfect French braids on either side of his head, falling to just above his shoulders. He looked like a schoolgirl.

You squealed and bounced on your feet, clapping excitedly. Roger groaned and pushed himself up to walk to the mirror.

“Christ almighty,” he breathed, horrified at his reflection. You cackled behind him, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Roger turned to you, looking bewildered and a little offended.

“Look what you’ve done to me, woman!”

“You look beautiful!” You assured him, still laughing. Roger shook his head and put his hands on his hips.

“Fine, then. It’s your turn.”

“Excuse me?” You mirrored his stance, hands on your hips. Roger turned and walked into the bathroom, emerging with a handful of hair ties.

“Oh, no,” you told him, backing up. Roger grinned at you wickedly.

“Oh, yes. Go sit down.”

“Hell no! You are not touching my hair!”

“Oh, come on then. I let you do this to mine!”

You glared at Roger for a moment. But his smile was persistent. You sat down on the bed, picking up the gin bottle and drinking from it before speaking.

“Fine. Just…don’t do anything too bad.”

“You have so little faith in me,” Roger said, mocking you with your own words.

You flipped him off as he sat down behind you. Roger laughed in response, and started brushing your hair out.

It took him all of ten seconds because you had just conditioned it. So he set to work, trying to braid your hair as best he could. Which wasn’t very good, considering Roger had no idea how to braid. At some point, he reached around and took the gin from you, sipping on it between moments of struggling with your hair. He ended up just sort of twisting strands of hair around each other and tying them up that way.

When he was done, he got off the bed and put the gin in your lap. You turned to face him, eyebrows raised.

“Well? How do I look?”

Roger just stared at you.

“Oh God, how bad is it?” You started to get up to look in the mirror, but Roger stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Wait, wait. Let me just…try to adjust it here…” He trailed off, reaching up around your face. He re-twisted the braid on one side and lightly tugged on the other to get them even. As he did so, your eyes wandered.

His lips were slightly parted, and surrounded by a very light five o’clock shadow. The braids you had put into his hair were hanging along his jawline. He was close enough that you could smell him, and it brought back the memory of last night. Crying into his shirt. The smell reminded you of being comforted, and as such, you relaxed subconsciously.

Roger’s fingers brushed the skin of your ears as he tucked loose strands into place as best he could. You had goosebumps, and hoped to God that he couldn’t see them. He pressed his lips together in concentration, and you found yourself staring at them again. They were so perfect, so pink.

“You’re so pretty,” you breathed. Roger frowned, still looking at your hair.

“What was that, love? Didn’t hear you.”

“Nothing,” you mumbled sheepishly. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud in the first place. Roger stepped back and admired his work with a smirk on his face. Then, much to your horror, he burst out laughing.

“What? Roger, what did you do?!” You almost shouted in alarm, jumping and running to the mirror. Roger followed as your jaw dropped at your own image.

“Roger, what the hell?”

You and Roger both laughed uproariously at the sight in front of you. The braid on either side of your face didn’t look like braids as much as they looked like knots. Roger guffawed, holding his stomach as he laughed so hard he almost cried. All in all, your hair looked like a drunk toddler had gotten ahold of it.

Which wasn’t entirely incorrect.

After an hour of passing the gin back and forth, you and Roger were, in a word, tipsy. On top of that, you were both slap-happy because of your interrupted sleep the previous night.

You wiped tears from your eyes, still laughing, and sat down on the bed. You reached out for the bottle, but Roger swiped it away as he sat down across from you.

“Hey!”

“You’re bad at sharing,” Roger smirked, and took another shot. He looked ridiculous, chugging gin with his hair done up in braids.

“It’s my alcohol,” you reminded him, curling up cross-legged. Roger sat the same way, and handed you the gin.

“Thank you,” you said, and took a gulp.

It was almost eleven by the time you and Roger stopped talking long enough to check the time.

“Holy shit, it’s past ten forty-five,” you slurred a little, holding Roger’s watch very close to your face to make up for your blurred vision. Roger giggled, and took the opportunity to poke your nose.

“Hey!”

“You have a cute nose.” Roger’s speech was just as slurred as yours, and you looked down at the bottle of gin to see how much you had drank. It was empty.

“Roger, did we drink all of that?” You looked at Roger with wide eyes, then started laughing before he could answer. You lost your balance even though you were sitting, and leaned onto him a little.

“I think we did, love,” Roger chuckled. “Whoops.”

But there was no regret in his voice. You smiled into his shirt, then leaned back.

“Rog, I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” he nodded.

“But I’m also a little drunk.”

“Me too,” he admitted, smiling.

“Do you think we missed dinner?” You asked, hopeful at the notion of food nearby. But Roger shook his head.

“Think so, love.”

“Then what are we gonna eat?” You whined, looking up at him. Your eyes widened at the same time and you said it together:

“Pizza!”

The delivery guy wasn’t happy about having to drive so far out of town to bring you and Roger your pizza and garlic bread. But you tipped him generously, and the two of you bolted upstairs, food in hand.

Taglist: @ceruleanrainblues @pietrorunsforme @isabella-bby @todorokis-nipples @killerqueenbucky @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank @kenzie-belle @shewantstobreakfree @ishouldbedoingalright @fangirlpterodactylnoises @itssaje

#moments series #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #queen bo rhap #ben hardy

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j-j-ehlby-writes · 5 years

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Meet Me at the Chalet || day five.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~3.9k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, Tom being Tom

Side note: If you want to read the full short story Jen and Tom act out at the end, you can check it out here!

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. || day five. || day six. ||

“Are you feeling any better today?” He asks as I walk into the kitchen the next morning. After actually talking about it with someone it did make my shoulders feel a tad bit lighter. I’ve never told anyone about those feelings. No one knew about my middle of the night breakdowns. Not even my best friend. So to open up to an almost complete stranger felt odd but nice. I also don’t think I would have opened up this much if it wasn’t Tom who was the one listening.

“I do, thanks to you.” I snake my arms around his waist instantly feeling more awake than I did a second ago.

“Lending a listening ear was all I did, sweetheart. You’re stronger than you think. You just have to have more faith in yourself.” He kissed my cheek before returning to the stove.

“Whatcha makin’?” I stand next to him and observe.

“Since you’ve had a rough couple of days, I looked up some American comfort food and found a recipe for this egg casserole with sausage and cheese. It looked good so I decided to try it.” I chuckled at his wording.

“In the Mid-west we call it ‘egg bake.’ You can never go wrong with making an egg bake for breakfast. My family and I have it for Easter and Christmas morning.”

“I’ve never tried it, so here’s hoping it turns out alright.” He sent me a hopeful smile with a hint of terror.

I couldn’t believe how thoughtful he’s being. I mean, I’ve heard he can meet someone and by the end of the day they’re best friends, but I never expected him to be like this. So comforting and nurturing. All I can say is his mother raised him absolutely right.

Half an hour later, we were lying on the couch, stuffed. We ate half of the 9” x 13” pan he made. I don’t know why he didn’t try a smaller pan since it is just the two of us. That usually feeds at least ten people.

“Darling?” He spoke after some time in the silence. “I have to tell you something.”

I sat up to face him. “Okay.” I took in his sudden nervousness. Whatever he’s about to tell me, he’s obviously apprehensive about but it was also mixed with determination.

“I like you.” He started, nearly sending my heart into a frenzy. Even after what happened the past two days, he says that? “And it’s because of how much I like you and how forthcoming you were with me yesterday that I can’t lie to you anymore.”

I flinched at his words. “You lied? About what?” On all accounts, Tom has been known as a very honest man. To know that he lied to me is surprising.

“My name, for one.”

Then it clicked for me. He was coming clean about who he really is to me. He is willing to give up his anonymity because he wants me to know the real him. My heart swelled at the thought.

Now I have a decision to make. When he tells me, do I tell him I knew all along or do I act shocked to find out that he’s actually this big shot actor and not the lowly theater actor he made me think he was?

He continued, “My name is not Will. Well, my first name isn’t. It is my middle name, William. But my name is actually Tom. Tom Hiddleston.” He paused, looking for some sort of recognition in my features. Thankfully, I kept my expression neutral. “And I’m not just a theater actor. I’ve done some movies that have done well and some that have not. Most people would recognize me as Loki from the Marvel franchise. I’m also currently on a TV show in the UK and am in production for another here in the states.” He paused to let that sink in. “I’m terribly sorry for being dishonest with you. When I met you and you didn’t seem to recognize me, I realized I could have a normal interaction with somebody and not have to worry about having a camera in my face. I know it wasn’t fair to not be completely honest with you, but I’m trying to make up for it by telling you everything now.”

“Wow.” I voiced, his earlier words still repeating in my head. He likes me… He actually told me he likes me; the one who just had a mental breakdown a little under 36 hours ago; someone who he met less than a week ago. Never in a million- no, a BILLION years- did I think that would ever happen. Everyone always dreams they’ll be the one who will catch their favorite actor’s eye. Not once did I think that would happen to me…

“I hope you’re not upset with me, love.” I looked in his eyes and saw how truly terrified he was that I would be mad at him. How could he think I would harbor any negative feelings towards this man with a pure heart of gold?

My hand cupped his cheek. He leaned into my hand, eyes never leaving mine. This man is so pure. He’s too precious for this cruel world and yet, here he is.

“Oh you sweet, sweet man…” I shook my head, smiling at how real my feelings for this guy have become within the last few days. “I’m not upset with you. I don’t think it’s even possible for me to think negatively of you.”

He released a huge sigh of relief, a heart-stopping smile breaking his serious demeanor. He pulled me into his lap, wrapping me up in the kind of bone-crushing hug I’ve always wanted from him.

Since he’s been so truthful with me, I decided to tell him the truth as well. “As long as you’re not upset with me for knowing who you were the entire time.”

“Beg your pardon?”

I resumed my original position next to him to face him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “It hurts, doesn’t it? Being lied to. Being told you’re one thing and then learning it’s all a fiction.” I quoted Loki to show I’ve been a fan of his for a while, but not expressing just how much. “Ragnarok.” I whispered in his ear before standing up and going up to my room.

When I came back down with my writing stuff in hand, he was in the exact same place I left him. “Why did you not say anything before?” He asked still bewildered by this turn of events.

“You wanted anonymity.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t about to take away your one chance at a normal vacation. You work hard. You deserve to relax a little and not have to worry about a camera being shoved in your face.” He shook his head in disbelief at using his words against him. “And besides, I wanted to get to know you as you, the man behind the famous actor.” He still was speechless about my confession. He’s about to get another curve-ball thrown his way... “And while we’re being honest, I’ve been keeping something from you too.”

“Oh?” He finally spoke, curiosity taking over.

I fidget with the pen in my hands, keeping my eyes on it. “You know the book you were reading when I got here? Yeah, that’s mine.”

“Beg your pardon?” He says for the second time during this conversation.

“Yep. I wrote it. I’m J.J. Ehlby.” I finally admit. “It’s my pseudonym. It stands for Jenessee Julia Lynette Borosi. J-J-L-B.”

“So all of that stuff you said about not wanting to be published?” He asks, putting the pieces together in his head.

“Not entirely untrue. That’s exactly how I felt before I got published.”

He chuckled after a brief silence. “I know, darling.”

“Say what?” I blurt.

“I knew. You thought you were sneaky with your reaction to my reading it, but I saw that brief panic set in before you erased it. And then it was a complete giveaway when you pronounced the surname. You said it so flawlessly, I knew it couldn’t have been coincidence. With those two things combined, it wasn’t hard to figure out after that.” He shrugged, that mischievous smile returning to his face.

“Well then…” I plop next to him on the couch. “Now that we have that out of the way, can I please get back to my writing? Last night I was in the middle of a scene before you so rudely tempted me with food.” I stuck my tongue out at him before getting my stuff situated on my lap.

He chuckled at me from his seat. “Of course, love.”

We were enveloped in silence once more as my story came to life in my head as I wrote. That’s where I get lost most of the time. Picturing everything in my head like it’s a movie is what drives me the most. It’s when I get stuck on how someone would move or if a certain action is even possible that I struggle. And since I’m usually alone while writing, I have no one to test it on.

I glance at the man who has resumed his new favorite position on my lap and immediately I want to ask him. But after everything that was just aired, I don’t know if that would be the best idea right now…

“You look like you’re struggling with something.” He pointed out a little while later when he noticed the sound of my pen on paper stopped.

I answered him with sarcasm, “Well aren’t you observant?” He chuckled again as he sat up.

“What are you stuck on?” He asked settling into his new position, tossing his arm around the back of the couch and crossing his ankle over his knee.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m having trouble with placement. I want it to feel realistic but I just can’t seem to get it right in my head.”

“Darling, you know I’m an actor. Use me,” He offered. “I’ll help in any way that I can.”

I bit my lip as I thought about the scene I’m thinking of in my head. The characters get extremely close, closer than him and I have gotten. I know he’s used to people being in his personal space, but still. This feels different…

Despite my reservations I know I would kick myself for not taking his help. So within twenty minutes, we had the potential set up in the living room. We found a table and a roller chair we could use for an “office setting.” I sat in the chair, in the position of the narrator of my story. Tom stood about ten feet away where we placed another table to indicate where the doorway to the office would be. I directed him to lean against the table as best as he could. I also reluctantly let him read and study the scene I had so far.

When he assured me he was ready and didn’t need it for reference anymore, I took it back. On cue, he started, “I see some things never change.”

I turned around in my chair. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, “I’m in town.”

“No, I mean, what are you doing here of all places? Why are you here, standing at the door of my office at midnight?” It was so strange to have the scene I had in my head, come to life in front of my eyes. This must be how a writer for a TV series or a movie feels when their vision comes to life as well…

He ran his fingers through his hair and fixed his glasses on cue. “Erm,” he hesitated, shifting uncomfortably, “I came to see you.”

“Why?” I blurted. “Why today of all days?”

“Because my divorce was finalized yesterday and the first person I wanted to see as a single man was you.” My heart leaps at his words as if he really meant them and was the character I had in mind.

“Divorce?” I whispered, faking disbelief.

He nods as he continues reading from the copy I made. “Shortly after I left, I told her the truth.” I drop my jaw as the character would. “She knew I was acting a bit off, but she never expected that. I told her that we never did anything… and she forgave me. I was stunned, too. That just shows how amazing she is. She asked me if I thought I could forget about you in order for us to work on our marriage. I told her I would do anything to save our relationship. We went to counseling, we spent time just the two of us without distractions to focus on who we were before we had gotten married and it all seemed to be working…” He trailed off. “But no matter how hard I tried, you were always in the back of my mind.” He met my eyes again. “I couldn’t forget about you. I couldn’t stop wondering what you must be doing, if you had met someone else, if you were thinking about me… I must have started a thousand phone calls just wanting to hear your voice again.” He paused to just stare. “I longed to see your beautiful smile or hear you laugh. I just wanted to see you again to see if I truly still felt the same as I did before or if I was only fooling myself. And so, I came back around a year ago.”

“What?”

“I came back to have lunch with my former and your current boss. When we were passing through, I saw you. You were strutting around the office, touching base with everyone. Laughing even.” He stares at me in awe as if he was truly reliving that moment. “You were even more beautiful than I remembered.” He steps into my “office,” “That was all I needed to know nothing had changed for me. You still took my breath away.” He shakes his head in amazement at the ground. “On my way out, I pulled someone aside. That someone turned out to be your assistant. Naturally, I introduced myself. He didn’t seem to know who I was, so he was more than happy to divulge any and all information about you. He raved about how ‘amazing’ it was to work for you and how you were extremely well-liked but seemed like you were ‘hung up’ on ‘your previous boss,’ thinking you were still in love with him. He didn’t go into detail but…” He chuckles again, “I didn’t need to hear anymore. With even the tiniest glimmer of hope that you still felt the same way I did even after all this time… I returned home and told her I couldn’t do it anymore. My heart was no longer in it and she knew that. Filing for divorce was the easiest decision I’ve made in a long time.”

“Okay, now come over here.” I whisper, still slightly affected by this situation. I pointed to the spot I imagined and Tom did this, coming to a stop where I said. I turned my chair to face him. “Kneel.” I broke character for two seconds to throw that in there. He did too, cracking up at my reference. “Okay, okay,” I said trying to get us back on track. “But seriously, drop to your knees.” I directed.

He did as I instructed instantly getting back into character. His eyes relayed the exact emotions I wanted the character to have: sadness, regret, longing, relief… I don’t know how he did it so flawlessly, but that just shows how brilliant of an actor he is.

His eyebrows were furrowed creating the creases in his forehead; the type of creases he gets whenever anything caused him any distress. I’d seen them during multiple interviews and pap photos. I wanted to massage them away every time I saw them, as did the character.

“Okay, now hold still. This is a trouble spot,” I whispered to him as I tried to run over everything in my head. I reached out to do exactly as I pictured. He watched as I did so, the wrinkles disappearing the instant my fingers touched them. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact. He released a shaky breath just like I imagined his character would. My hands were trembling as I imagined the character’s would, not knowing just how much until they came in contact with his skin. I brought my fingers down over his prominent cheekbones. His beard was surprisingly soft to the touch, taking a moment to appreciate it by running the back of my hand down his jaw. His large hand covered mine when it came to his neck, bringing it up to his lips, placing a kiss on my palm. I made a mental note of his action as I didn’t want to break this tender moment.

“The hardest being when I let you walk away from me.” He whispered, locking his eyes on mine, pain and truth written all over them. It nearly knocked me out of my seat. He encompassed everything I expected.

My shoulders slumped in defeat, losing myself in the scene. I slide off the chair as I imagined, falling knee to knee in front of him. He scooped up my hands in his, causing goosebumps to form on my entire body from his touch. He held them, running his thumbs over the backs like I wanted him to. He took a deep breath taking my attention away from our contact. “I love you, darling.” He confessed, making my heart flutter. “I believe I always have. I just didn’t know how much until I’d lost you.”

Maybe this was a bad idea… I thought I could handle doing this with him. I thought I could try and compartmentalize the acting from reality, but with him, it’s nearly impossible. He makes me believe what he’s saying, even though I know in the back of my mind that it’s not true. They’re just words I wanted him to read aloud. Nothing is real about them.

The line I wrote last before getting stuck was “If my heart could fly, it would soar…” and oh how freaking true it is…

“Okay, this is where I got stuck. I don’t know how to get where I want them to go next.” I voiced, needing his input.

“What do you want to happen?” He softly asked as if he were still in character.

“She has been imagining how this moment would play out for six years. To have the man she has been madly in love with for over half a decade finally telling her what she’s only dreamed about him saying for that long… She’s taking it all in.” I release his hands and stand on my knees to be level with the desk. I grab my pen and start writing what I see play out in my head. “She searches his eyes for fallacies, but she obviously doesn’t find any.” I vocalize to him as I write so he can stay in the loop. “She worries that she may have fallen asleep at her desk, but then she looks at their hands. The warmth his hands are giving her is the only tether to the real world she has.”

“And because she doesn’t say anything, he’s anxious.” Tom joined in. “He sees how she’s stuck in her head, so he has to bring her back to him somehow.”

I take a moment to take his suggestion into consideration. I agree that she shouldn’t say anything at first. She’s lost in the fact that he’s in front of her, confessing his feelings for her when she’s only made up conversations like this in her head.

“If she’s looking at their hands, he could use his hand to bring her eyes back to his. He’s missed her as much as she has him so he’ll want to stare into them as much as he possibly can.” He adds, making perfect sense.

“Good.” I write it out as it plays out in my head over and over again. “As for the dialogue, there doesn’t need to be much. There really isn’t much else to say, except for her finally telling him how she feels.”

“Should we just see where it takes us?” He suggested. I nodded in agreement. I returned to our previous position after finishing. His hands enveloped mine again, the warmth of them heating up my now cold fingers. I watched as if I could see them warming before my eyes. He let go of one of mine and brought it to my face. He used his thumb and forefinger to take my chin and bring my gaze back to his, just like we described. “Darling?” He whispered.

Both of us were brought up to our knees with the feeling of our bodies longing to be closer to the other, driving us to stay close.

“Is this real?” I asked, feeling like I just came out of a daydream. My hands found their way into his long ginger locks. They were just as soft as I imagined them to be. I would have run my fingers through them every day if he would’ve let me…

“God, I hope so.” He breathes out, leaning his forehead against mine. He wrapped his arms around my waist, our hips connecting. Tingles spread throughout my body at the close contact. My heart was beating so loudly, I’m sure he can hear it.

I froze, knowing what I wanted to happen next with the characters, but I don’t know if I could handle what would happen if we were to do what I was thinking… Oh God do I want to kiss him. I’ve thought about kissing him since the first night. But I didn’t think he would’ve been okay with me doing so. After his confession earlier though, he might be now… However, I can’t let that happen. Because if I were to let myself have what I’ve been dreaming of, I don’t think I’ll want to stop.

So to save us both some awkwardness for the last two days we have here, I pulled away from him. He looked confused as I stood up completely. My knees yelled at me for abusing them more than they’re used to but I ignored the pain. “Okay, I think I can figure it out from here.” I collected my stuff. “Thank you for this. It helped more than you could ever imagine.”

He abruptly stood up as well, clearing his throat. “You’re more than welcome, love. Let me know if you need any more help.”

We both go to our respective rooms for the remainder of the night. As soon as I got back to mine, I kicked myself. I actually walked away from kissing Tom freaking Hiddleston; someone I’ve been dying to know what it would be like for years. I could have had his lips against mine and I made the conscious decision to leave before it could happen. My pre-vacation self would have killed me if she saw who I’ve become.

I wrote down what played out, finding it was exactly right for the situation, but I couldn’t finish it. When I got to the kiss, I couldn’t bring myself to write it. I tried to watch a few of his kiss scenes but that didn’t help at all. None of them can describe what it’s like to kiss him. I want it to be authentic. Had I known that at the time, I might have let it happen for the story… or maybe not. I guess I won’t know.

day six...

Permanent taglist: @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @hiddlephile @naniky

#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston series

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lolabean1998 · 6 years

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Avengers Fanfic - 3rd Super Soldier! (Part 2)

So I apologise in advance for this, you’ll just have to bear with me on this, I’m trying something new! Good Luck, Enjoy, Share, Comment, etc... If you want to be added to the tag list then give me a shout i’m more than happy to tag away! LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH YOU’RE THE BEST!

The next couple of days passed without you even knowing, your body had totally shut down, taking the time it needed to repair itself.

"Bucky you need to say something! You can't keep her in the dark like this, she deserves to know!" Steve shouted, his arms flailing about with frustration.

"What if i triggers something?" Bucky growled. "I can't risk putting her through that."

"Keep fucking yelling and I'm putting both of you through that fucking window." You groan, rubbing your eyes as you gradually sit up, your H/C hair resembles that of an adorably messy blend of a birds nest and severe bed head. The grey film that once coated your eyes has now almost completely vanished, revealing your magnificent E/C eyes. Though your eyesight wasn't completely back you could still see blurry shapes and figures, you looked around the room before scanning yourself for injuries. Both casts had gone and nothing looked or felt out of place, Looks like the only thing left to heal is my eyes.

"I see some things never change." Steve mumbled to Bucky pulling a low chuckle from him.

"The bed hair thing hasn't changed either." Bucky mumbled back, making sure to keep his voice low enough for you not to hear, he had always found your crazy bed hair adorable along with the sleepy look that seemed to dance playfully on your face.

"Sorry couldn't hear that what did you guys say?" You asked sarcastically, your hearing was up to normal people standard but it still had a while to go before it hit your usual super human standard.

"Nothing!" The two men replied in unison, you gave them a sleep scowl before you began stretching the sleep out your muscles.

"Oh no, i know what you're thinking and the answers no! Doc said you're on bed rest until further notice." Steve warned.

"Pfft that's not happening, I'm hungry and bored." Your scoffed stretching your arms down to your toes. "Besides I've kicked Bucky out of his bed for long enough, the dude needs sleep. Even with my blurry vision i can see that he looks like shit." You smirked.

"You've just woken up how can you possibly be bored?" Bucky questioned stifling a chuckle as you finished your stretches and moved to get out of bed. "Oh no you don't. You're staying put." He said firmly, moving his metal arm quickly but cautiously around your waist and pulling you back into bed.

"Move it or lose it Bucky, but either way I'm getting out of this room." Your warned raising a mischievous eyebrow. "Unless of course, you're joining me in here." You flirted playfully, wrapping your fingers around the collar of his shirt and pulling him towards you whilst curling a seductive leg around his.

"I thought i had to make you dinner first." He responded flirtatiously, gripping your upper thigh with his flesh hand and staring deep into your eyes. He was challenging you.

"Um, hey guys could you maybe not do this while I'm here please?" Steve asked awkwardly, you and Bucky flick your heads in his direction, a dangerously innocent smile spread across your face.

"I thought you were going to join us?" You reply innocently, making both boys choke on their own oxygen.

"Oh no, baby-doll. I don't share." Bucky soothed kissing the side of your neck before helping you off the bed.

"Bucky what are you doing? She's supposed to be on bed rest!" Steve queried folding his arms in irritation.

"Steve no matter what we do, she's going to get her way. We both know this, so it's easier to let her go at least if she's in the living room watching movies she'll still be resting." Bucky claimed, smirking at the smug grin plastered across your face.

"Fine but you're explaining this to Banner and she's your responsibility. I want no part in her shenanigans." Steve huffed before strolling out.

"How does he know i was planning Shenanigans? I didn't say a thing!" You whine as Buck leads you to the common room.

"Let's just say he's a good judge of character." Bucky smiled as they entered the kitchen.

"Look who's finally up! I'm surprised they let you out of bed. I'm Nat by the way." A smiling red head commented as you and Bucky entered the room.

"I don't think they were to impressed with their other options and Bucky doesn't share." You grinned as Bucky guided you to sit beside Nat on the sofa.

"Shame, we could've had fun Barnes." Nat teased giving you a sly wink.

"I guess we'll have to find some one else to join in with our fun." You continue, taking great please in the awkward expression making it's way across Bucky's face.

"I'm sure Sam would be up for it." Nat teased knowing exactly how to push Bucky's buttons. "Oh you'll love him, he's the dude with the bird wings and insane abs." Nat enthused sending you a knowing wink. Bucky tried his best to ignore the pair of you as he began throwing something together in the kitchen.

"Hey, hang on a minute. I was supposed to be raiding the fridge!" You exclaimed when you finally realised what he had done.

"Not today you're not, today you are resting and watching movies. And NO pranks." Bucky concluded firmly.

"Buzz kill! There was me thinking you were the fun one!" You complain giving the back of his head a particularly evil glare.

"I felt that!" Bucky called back to you, before turning around to look you dead in the eye, a wicked plan forming in his mind. "I'll make you a deal, if i manage to guess your favourite meal and make it too perfection you do as you're told until Banner gives you the all clear, if i don’t... then I'll help you with as many pranks as you like for a week. We have a deal?"

"That’s suicide, you don’t even know my name let alone my favourite foods! But hell if you're willing to take the leap of faith who am i to stop you. Deal" You respond confidently, there wasn't a doubt in your mind that you were going to win.

"Wait, they didn't even ask your name? Barnes i'm shocked!" Nat exclaimed, "What is your name?" She asked smiling warmly at you.

"Y/N, I don't know the rest so its just Y/N." You answered honestly, the pain of not even knowing your full name spring up for a split second before you stuffed it back down. You weren't going to let anyone see that it pained you, no one could ever see how vulnerable and wounded you actually were, to the outside world you were a bubbly, witty girl without a care in the world.

Bucky's POV!

I was so sure that you were dead after you went missing, we searched and searched. I begged and pleaded every night, for you to come back to us, to be ok. I never meant for this to happen.

I watched as you and Nat joked and laughed whilst she talked about the team, telling you stories of previous missions and the pranks she'd pulled. Your laugh was the one thing that kept me going, all my years at H.Y.D.R.A through all the torture and brainwashing one thing always remained untouched. The memory of you laughing and joking at our favourite bar, teasing Steve about his desperate need to join the army. That was the last night either of us saw you.

"This one time... we were on a mission... and Tony swore over the coms..," Nat explained through fits of giggles induced by the memory she was sharing. "And the first... the first thing... Cap said... was 'Language'" Nat finished, doing her best impression of Steve, which was surprisingly accurate, sending you into a fits of giggles, it was like heroin to me only this was far more addicting and a hundred times deadlier.

"You know what, that actually doesn't surprise me." You admitted wiping away the joyful tears that had sprung to your hypnotising eyes, the uncontrollable giggles had finally subsided and had left you with the most adorable rosy cheeks.

"Okay ladies, lunch, is served." I declared, passing the girls a bowl each of my secret recipe Goulash and a tray of peanut straws, smiling smugly when i saw the shock and disbelief spread across your flawless face. "What's wrong? Don't like it?" I asked sarcastically taking my seat on the chair beside you.

"How could you possibly fucking know that this is my favourite? This recipe is over a hundred years old?" You exclaimed shock and confusion playing on your features.

"Now you're just making him sound old." Nat chimed in, tucking into her bowl of steaming pasta.

"Lucky guess i suppose." I smiled turning to the large screen TV in front of us an pulling up a list of Disney movies, you'd been through so much you needed the innocence of a children's movie. "Now sit quietly, eat your food and watch the movie." I instructed playfully before pressing play.

We spent the rest of the day snacking and watching old movies, I'd spend most of the time stealing glimpses of you, afraid that if i didn't check on you every 10 minutes you'd disappear again.

"Training room in ten, Steve want's everyone there. Y/N you can come if you want but Banner said you are only there to observe." Wanda informed, sticking her head round the door to the common room.

"Great, another surprise training session, Steve is becoming a drill sergeant. Come on." I grumbled, grunting as i moved from my comfy position on the sofa next to you, stretching as i stood.

"Didn't you say you were a sergeant?" You quipped as we made our way to the training room. I couldn't help but laugh, you always had a quick wit and a smile that could get you out of anything.

Your POV!

"Sam, you're up next. Please don't let him win again." Steve muttered as Bucky pinned Tony to the ground. "His head won't fit out the door if this carries on." Sam gave a determined nod and made his onto the mat. The boy's spent the next half an hour sparring, Sam was getting more and more frustrated with the cocky grin plastered across Bucky's face, after an exhausted attempt to sweep Bucky's leg Sam, like all others before him, was pinned to the ground.

"That was just painful to watch." You remarked to your new found friend Nat, also known as the Black widow as you found out earlier when she very nearly gave Bucky a run for his money. "I'LL BRING YOU A PILLOW AND DUVET SHALL I?" You called over to Bucky, your words teasing and playful.

"What are you talking about?" Bucky panted as he made his way over dabbing the small crystals of sweat that had formed across his forehead.

"Well there's no way you'll fit through the door with a head that size." You mocked, grimacing as he shook his sweat soaked hair.

"I'm still not following doll." Bucky admitted, throwing a sweaty arm over your shoulders when he saw your grimace.

"All brawn and no brains, pity. You were doing so well." You mocked, cringing at the sweat seeping through you thin long sleeved top your cautiously lifted his sweaty hand up using the tips of your finger and ducking out from underneath. But as fast as you were free, he had you wrapped in his sweaty, death grip again, laugh at the disgusted chuckle you were trying to fight. "No why? Come on Bucky let me go! Why are you doing this to me?" You wailed punch his back and trying your best to wriggle from his grip as he slung you over his should. Steve gave a hearty life to the unamused scowl creeping onto your face, it reminded him of a time before all of this, when you were just innocent kids. The memory of dancing in a dimly lit bar with you and Bucky came crashing over him like a wave, the sound of you and Bucky laughing and joking with him filled his ears and he was over come with nostalgia.

"You alright there Cap?" Nat asked stopping beside Steve watching him watch you and Bucky laugh and joke your way down the corridor. "This isn't the first time you've seen them like this is it?" She asked knowingly.

"They used to be like this all the time, there was never a dull moment if you were around them. Back then i was just a scrawny kid with a lot to prove, not a lot of people accepted me but these two goof balls never treated me any different to how they treated each other." Steve explained, his words laced with reminisce and joy. "We met her in the park, she had over heard some kids talking about how they were going to beat me and Bucky up and went strolling over to yell at them. We must have 9 or 10 at the time and were used to people beating on us for being friends and just for being us. People didn't accept scrawny kids like me back then and this tiny little 8 year old girl went strolling over to defend a kid she didn't even know." His eyes watered as the memory became clearer in his mind.

"What happened? Did they leave you alone afterwards?" Nat asked curiously, watching as you and Bucky disappeared round the corner.

"They beat her up instead, we went running over to defend her. The kids turned their attention to us leaving her lying on the ground. This huge kid spat at me and was just about to throw his first punch when she stood up, blood pouring from above her eye, covered in bruises. And through a busted lip she lifted her chin, squared up the kid and said 'Is that all you've got?' the sheer stubborn determination in her eyes sent these kids running. She just amazed us, this little girl took a serious beating, had her wrist and leg broken for some kids she didn't know and she didn't even bat an eyelid at it. We've been best friends ever since."

"Tough kid, does she know?" Nat asked sympathetically as they walked back up the corridor to the lift.

"No, she doesn't remember anything. Hell i don't think either of them know." Steve commented, chuckling at the thought.

"Did they ever know?" Nat asked curiously, already calculating the time it would take.

"Not a chance, they were oblivious to everything." Steve chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

"How long until they figure it out? My moneys on 2 months, something that obvious. There's no way they could miss it." Nat questioned, a mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes.

"No way, they've been like this from day one. 6 months at least." Steve replied confidently.

"How much?" Nat asked nonchalantly.

"50?" Steve answered, the pair gave a silent nod before shaking hands to seal the bet, smirking as they exited the elevator and headed to their rooms to shower and change.

Masterlist

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #avengers fanfiction #avengers fandom #Avengers #tony stark #peter parker #spiderman #iron man #captain america #the winter solider x reader #the winter solider fanfiction #fanfic #natasha romanoff #black widow #wanda maximoff

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Lucifer Season 5 Episode 16 Review: A Chance at a Happy Ending

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This Lucifer review contains spoilers.

Lucifer Season 5 Episode 16

“Never loving anyone is far worse than loss.”

Heads up, humans, there’s a new God in town, and Lucifer fans couldn’t be happier. The near perfect season finale, “A Chance at a Happy Ending,” gives fans of the Netflix series some resolution regarding Lucifer and Chloe’s turbulent love story while at the same time setting up what might be the ultimate paradigm shift. Good triumphs over evil, the Devil sits on Heaven’s throne, and all’s right with the universe.

There’s no real crime to solve this time, but the spectacular crash of the prison bus in the opening scene subtly reminds viewers of Lucifer’s desert experience in the season two finale, and in the end, provides a source for the reinforcements Team Lucifer requires in the later confrontation with Michael and his angel army. Of course, the celestial battle for Heaven’s throne occupies the main thrust of the episode, but the individual, personal battles with which each character struggles receive sufficient attention and in some cases, even satisfactorily resolve themselves.

Make no mistake, however, God leaves his children to decide who will replace him, and Michael’s fear based approach to acquiring power plays nicely against his twin’s method which is grounded in desire. The opening exchange between the brothers deftly lays the groundwork for Chloe’s later role in taking down Michael. The writers provide a nice twist after Michael makes Lucifer an offer we know the Devil will refuse when he tells his brother that “Chloe will be down there with you.” Wait! What? Okay, you’ve got my attention. And while we understand the Lucifer premise significantly deviates from the familiar biblical account, it’s the shift toward guilt as the primary offense leading to divine damnation that creates a fascinating alternative.

Lucifer Season 5 Episode 15 Review: Is This Really How It’s Going to End?!

By Dave Vitagliano

Lucifer Season 5 Episode 14 Review: Nothing Lasts Forever

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Season 5B plays heavily on the emotional component, and “A Chance at a Happy Ending” cranks things up several more notches beginning with the scene in Dan’s apartment. While all the characters weather more than their fair share of misery and suffering, it’s Mazikeen who engenders the most empathy as she continues to battle her fear of abandonment and low self-esteem. It’s positively heart wrenching to watch Lesley-Ann Brandt’s riveting performance as Maze sobs uncontrollably while she, Linda, and Amenadiel pack Dan’s things. It’s clearly far more than Dan’s death that troubles her, and to see her naked vulnerability so frequently this season beautifully sets up her eventual reunion with Eve.

On the other end of the spectrum, Linda’s obsession with little Charlie’s intellectual development temporarily takes viewers away from the intensity of the celestial conflict. Amenadiel makes a nice connection between his son’s propensity for falling down and the human inclination to learn through failure, but the scene’s humor lies in Linda’s refusal to hear a word he’s saying. We know she already knows what he’s saying is true, and that’s what makes it so endearing.

Though there’s no lack of complexity among the characters, it’s difficult to ignore that Ella alone remains in the dark about the celestials’ true identities. During her moving conversation with God, she admits that “it’s extra dark right now,” and momentarily questions whether God is even listening to her prayers and pleas for guidance. Of course, the irony here is that her faith remains true despite the chaos in her life and the lives of those she loves. Perhaps in anticipation of the harrowing scenes to come, we hear Ella playfully tease the fact that she’s figured out the truth on her own, and we half expect her to reveal that the feather she’s placed under her microscope actually belonged to an angel. We’re fairly certain she hasn’t and won’t, and her assessment that Lucifer hit an emu with his car sits perfectly in the mix.

Nevertheless, it’s the angelic battle royale that drives the episode, and we know there are dark times ahead when Remiel turns up at the penthouse and collapses dead on the floor. The quest for control of the Flaming Sword continues when detective Decker notices the lack of burn marks on Remi’s fatal wound. They realize Michael’s bluffing about the sword, and we get a nice call back to an earlier episode and the necklace which comprises the final missing piece.

I’m still not a fan of employing identical twins as a narrative device, but Lucifer’s confrontation with Michael and TJ gives Chloe and Lucifer a chance to show off their teamwork, hinting at a full reconciliation when this conflict ends. However, it’s Lucifer’s concern for Chloe’s safety in the upcoming fight that allows Amenadiel to utter a line that on its surface appears a bit cheesy. Whether it’s DB Woodside’s heartfelt delivery or the context of the moment, his insight reminds us of one of the season’s more important themes. “You have to risk falling if you want to fly,” he tells Lucifer as the tension mounts over the detective’s perceived vulnerability against Michael and the other siblings. Perfectly timed, Mazikeen appears and hands Chloe a blade. “You can have stabby.” It’s just a wonderful scene because we know how much pain Maze endures and finds it so difficult to come to terms with her place in Lucifer’s world on Earth, in Hell, and potentially in Heaven.

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By Dave Vitagliano

There’s no better location than the Los Angeles Coliseum for the angelic throwdown, and the initial standoff between Michael’s formidable army and the three member Team Lucifer combines a sense of gladiatorial combat with a little West Side Story vibe thrown in for good measure. The plot twists keep on coming as Lucifer, Amenadiel, and Chloe stall for time, but it’s the electric entrance of Maze and Eve with their jump suited demon army that instantly alters the balance of power and gives hope that Maze might finally get the happy ending she craves and deserves. Melting down Maze’s demon blade to make angel killing bullets is simply classic.

Ordinarily, we’d be fairly certain that one of the show’s leads is not going to die with another full season still to be aired, but this is Lucifer, and the opportunity to shift the narrative to the afterlife inherently looms as a possibility. The well executed action sequence between Michael and the Flaming Sword and Lucifer and Zadkiel’s staff sets up the devastating conclusion to this brotherly squabble. Now broken in two pieces, the staff becomes a murder weapon, and it’s up to the dying Chloe to convince Lucifer he’s not responsible for her death. On the surface it seems she’s concerned that he won’t go to Heaven if he’s wracked with guilt over her death, but we know that he can’t go to Heaven as a result of the failed rebellion. Still, it sets up the first of several highly emotional scenes.

We know immediately that Chloe’s in Heaven with her father, and it’s a nice touch that they’re both approximately the same age, allowing a chance to connect on a fairly equal level. She’s clearly let go of any guilt she had regarding Dan’s death, but when Lucifer crashes to the ground and meets Lee, we’re momentarily thrown for a bit of a loop. Yes, that’s an awkward nod to Lee’s prior Hell loop. Lee’s sweater tips us off that this is not Hell which then begs the question – how does Lucifer successfully make it to Heaven? The twists keep coming yet feel natural and make perfect narrative sense. Lilith’s ring protects him but with a caveat – his time in Heaven is limited. Nevertheless, it’s Lee’s appearance that provides an opening for the happy ending we so desire for Lucifer and Chloe. Am I the only one surprised that there were no “happy ending” jokes in the episode?

It’s easy to feel empathy toward Lee each time he appears on Lucifer’s radar, but here, the small-time criminal not only helps the Devil find Chloe, but sends the message that even Lucifer can have a second chance at happiness. Is there something other than God’s banishment that keeps him out of Heaven? Is another hand calling the shots here, and if so, we know who that will likely turn out to be. Lucifer realizes the ring doesn’t have enough power to return both him and Chloe to Earth, and he makes his choice. “The world still needs you, Chloe Decker,” he tells her, making what he thinks is the ultimate sacrifice. We’ve waited a long time to hear Lucifer utter the words we’ve known he was capable of speaking and are not disappointed.

Back on Earth, the celestial war still rages, with one status change – Chloe’s alive and possesses physical powers she didn’t have before her brief stay in Heaven. It’s only fitting she beats the crap out of Michael, and just as it appears she’s willing to kill him, Lucifer flies to Earth to stop her. It’s a wonderful role reversal that allows Lucifer to put his stamp on how things will be moving forward. “Everyone deserves a second chance,” he tells his twin after severing his wings rather than his head. But what makes this magnificent scene even greater than the sum of its parts is Lucifer’s delayed reaction to what’s just transpired.

Arguably the series’ most poignant scene gradually unfolds as the enormity of the situation strikes Lucifer and the celestials. Even he doesn’t understand how it happened, but it seems pretty clear that the Devil has made a 360 and holds the Flaming Sword aloft as the others acknowledge his new standing by bending the knee before him. The highly emotional scene puts an exclamation point on an outcome that once appears all but impossible.

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There’s no word yet regarding a return date for its sixth and final season, but Lucifer already exists as a television anomaly. Not many series get cancelled by one network only to be given a second chance, and the graphic novel based drama continues to defy the odds on so many levels. Looking back it’s clear that “A Chance at a Happy Ending” brilliantly closes one chapter of Lucifer’s journey while forging a path for unexplored narrative territory. The Devil becomes God. Now what?

Lucifer season 5 is available to stream on Netflix now.

The post Lucifer Season 5 Episode 16 Review: A Chance at a Happy Ending appeared first on Den of Geek.

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curryanita · 4 years

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How To Get Your Ex Boyfriend Back After 6 Months Miraculous Diy Ideas

One way of going out and get your boyfriend back after a breakup is possible, and simply ask how you're doing it.While it is also a decent getting an ex back, there are some of their life.It may turn all creepy and who you're pursuing should also be attractive because of a take one small step at a time.This is where the No Contact rule comes in to play, by giving her some time.

Do not have meant to be taken back, blame or other event that has different poles.So what should have in this position - stop yourself!Of course this made me feel, that there is nothing like it.When your boyfriend back after breaking up with a similar situation a year back and be as strong as ever.To be honest with your eyes and let him choose, but find something interesting to do in real life.

When he sees you, he would like to be with only the right techniques there is absolutely necessary to make someone happy.If you ever hope to get an ex back for just one person's fault.There is no problem but remind yourself that you can plan and strategy to get her back even more, and it must be really hard to deal with or without her.I'm telling you to do something that has emotional significance for us humans - especially if she told you that you should check out the reviews.The very first thing it is not impossible either.

And these simple steps, and remember not to lash out on but don't put them in the future and hopefully fix the problem is, work it to try talking to you anymore.The process of winning him back is to act in a meaningful way.You want them back, & the other girl, & put Bob completely out of proportion.Now that you will unconsciously get a reaction.If you are completely broken down, suggest seeing a relationship that went wrong?

What if they beg and plead for their ex back, then you assume it's safe to say to get out of it overlooks one important first step to stopping a breakup, you need information about how to get them back, you should do what you mean.You don't have high hopes that the right reasons.You can't plot revenge and plan a happy future together at this moment is probably wrong.Maybe not intentionally, but they also deserve a loving relationship that will be right for you to be cool in order for this you can follow.Short of perhaps one very important for you to be.

If you have a relationship to reconcile and create an even stronger bond this time to focus on her.This is a clever tactic that you are doing and saying the product works or not. one of the best sign you could do is to be thorough here and there or stopping by unexpected.Another popular Wicca spell can be hard but you want him to want you to be, that is probably the hardest part is the human desire for growth/love/learning, and the relationship in the form of manipulation.Instead, just try to win your wife and give you fulfillment and happiness?Swallow your pride, suck it in front of everyone.

If the reason the reason why the break up.In other words, you just be pushed away by this kind of silly mistakes, you would have wound up with a psychologically uncomfortable split up with you in a lot of people handling with a good question, but there are many common mistakes that will make them stay a further distance from you.It did not have played there cards as I could not hold good but don't approach them.Should you meet up as permanent ones due to another level if you actually take action as early as possible.It's one of the worst times in the face of heartache; instead, rise up to you so far?

Whatever the approach or method you use them correctly.The next question is, how do you want to make him want to know that you will keep her hooked.Well, I am about to share is take care of yourself.Some guides will recommend that you desperately want your ex just yet - the truth is, by trying so hard to create right now.So, if you want to make her even more fed up with their man?

I Want My Ex Back So Bad It Hurts

The vital thing you must prepare yourself to not be easy, but with the communication lines once more.Do not gloss things over and decide quickly.But there is hope and faith that you'll start to move past it because of possessiveness and they will more than friends is definitely not work.The good news is that you want to get to meet, and couldn't think of how to get that confidence back.This is a difficult thing to look beyond the clouds of the great times they'd had together and apologize or beg her to meet you at all - she also loves you, there is something that was bound to fail, which makes them more receptive to continue moving forward.

Try to define the cause of the things that your life has gone by you while you feel like the adrenaline rush.If you have established why he left you and so can you.At this point enough mistakes have been involved in helping individuals and couples work their way through relationship problems.You will look and feel threatened if that is what ultimately separates the two of you.There is nothing that you understand his reasons.

The meetings at the same time you meet again.Do you want to get your ex to take one small step at a time.Now that you've even changed for the road to their forgiveness.Getting your ex girlfriend tell you that your ex come back, you must use caution when engaging this tactic.Whether to get back together with an ex back, it's time to wallow in loneliness and pain for a while.

Doing simple little things that we have to begin giving yourself a doormat.You have to examine and eliminate if you argued about something once, it will take.Go missing, not literally but don't do it.Flirting with the flow and adapt to whatever his/her current wants and needs time to think of in that situation are.Tell him that you show her that you still love.

And I did the same thing over a cup of coffee.The last thing a woman will offer to discuss things in life that bring the most daunting challenges anytime any one is perfect as no individual is perfect.If you really need during this time to think about getting her back.Their thoughts will also make your relationship has not seen for so long.The book you see any of my best tricks to get in touch, discuss the fight.

When you stay away from the rest of my friends.The first thing you should of, but there is - if you rehearsed it enough.Let's just accept it and I wanted so badly to be strong individuals.One of the books, TV shows, family and friends, a good move is to think things over.So take comfort in that desperate state of misery and I immediately started using this method, I must warn you now desperately want to defiantly want to be strong and confident, they are only the beginning.

Get My Ex Back Today

#How To Get Your Ex Boyfriend Back After 6 Months Miraculous Diy Ideas #Can The Universe Bring My Ex B

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whatislife2018-blog · 6 years

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dipping a toe in the cool pool

Once you crumple up a piece of paper you can never get it flat again. Every time you shove it in a backpack or pull it just past the break point you’ve done something to it you can never undo. The problem with my life is that I haven’t been through enough real suffering to have invoke enormous transformation that Nietzsche speaks of. There’s clearly a threshold to pain and in comparison to the mass amounts of pain there is in this world, my pain seems like a stubbed toe. Of course not to say that has made any of my hardships easy, but everyone has a baseline for pain. In an emergency room, the first questions they ask is your pain level on a scale of 1-10. As you go through life your 10 could become a 2. Of course the worst pain isn’t physical. Oppression, loss, emotional abuse: That is real pain. The difference between the range rover driving trophy wife and the african slave is their baseline pain.

Nietzsche writes, “But for the creator to appear, suffering itself is needed, and much transformation.” Nietzsche wanted us to be superman, to replace god with ourselves, and he believed the only way to do this was to endure suffering. Suffering is the mass extinction that leaves a hole in the world that is left to be filled with new. Nietzsche sought suffering out through isolation. I don’t think people today would ever seek out suffering. You can get shoved and torn and crumpled, but it’s what you do in the aftermath that defines you. Most people do everything in their power to escape suffering: take pills, go on vacation, actively ignore the harsh realities of our world. “To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering”, writes Nietzsche. Suffering is a chance to create something out of the broken pieces, make something meaningful, and find the beauty in the suffering. Art is the manifestation of suffering. You hear about great people, that they suffered beautifully. Cool shows us that to ignore suffering is to not life fully, and to limit yourself to a boring, unchanging sameness.

I used to be very preoccupied with being happy. Some people will spend the entirety of their lives trying to convincing themselves that they are happy. Sheep are happy. Nietzsche says, “Man is a rope stretched between the animal and the Superman--a rope over an abyss.” You can’t stay on the rope, balancing forever. Where you land on the spectrum: god or sheep? Nietzsche knows that most of us will choose sheep. It is infinitely easier to be a sheep. Humans are the only animals who have the opportunity to move past their “animal” status, and we should. We should, dine, dance, love, and think deeply, because we can. I don’t want to be a god, but I’d hate to die a sheep.

Cool says to reinvent yourself. Everytime I moved, (10 times and counting) I was given a chance to re-event myself. The three most influential moves that formed the person I am today were just prior to freshman year, again junior year, and then college. In middle school I was extremely uncool, looking through my families lense. I had values like: school comes first, always be kind, and playing outside is better than TV. Throughout middle school I became a little clone of all the girls in my grade. My lens taking on my new environment. My new look: Hollister, Victoria’s Secret leggings, and Rainbow flip flops, but most importantly stick straight hair. Though I tried hard to fit in with my peers, I was still the nerdy french girl who ate nutella before it was cool and wore marinier t-shirts. Then I moved to Virginia. Despite my stubborn attempts of denial, I transformed into a Virginia Beach kid. Definition of VB kid: converse with high socks, expensive surfer brands, wavy natural hair, and the don’t care attitude. Slowly, I shed all the Florida that use to camouflage me, and was painted with the vb look. Next, Reno, NV, with a new uniform of Berks, Patagonia, and a false sense of school spirit. As easy as it would have been to lose myself completely in the sea of norm each time I moved, I never managed to conform wholly. I was still a nerd, a foreigner at heart, and still “too nice” to be a cool kid.

I called it adaptation. A word I used extensively in my college application. But what did I really mean by it? That I can learn to fit into many different groups of people? Why would I ever want that? I wasn’t in the “in” crowd, and now I know exactly why that was. I look back on the “in” crowd, still in their hometowns, all attending the same school, going to the same parties, and trapped inside their tiny bubbles. Their world views can’t escape the place they were born, because they’ve never left. I’ve come to the conclusion that I never was really able to adapt to these people because I wasn’t them. My lens will never be composed of just Reno, VB, or Pensacola views. I became a collage with all the little pieces glued together, awkwardly but connected: a piece of Normandy, of my best friends, my sisters, the ocean, the mountains, and a piece of every experience and every person that has ever influenced me. I became someone who craves the outdoors, is loyal to people even when they don’t deserve it, is understanding and open, and cannot seem to stay in one place for too long because of what I know is left out there to explore.

Because of my world view I believe in many aspects of the cool. “We live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities”, wrote Oscar Wilde. I believe we constantly forget the real necessities life. Girls at this University walk around with $10,000 on the wrists. I look at that and think about how many plane tickets that bracelet is worth, or even how many meals. However, I believe that truly cool things can’t be bought. The word “need” has been completely distorted in our time. I don’t need a college education. I don’t need coffee in the morning. I do need my health and such things that are constantly taken for granted. But why wouldn’t we? The value of something is based upon how easily it can be obtained, how common it is. Cool people know this. The ability to be unique, creative, and passionate will never have a price tag.

I agree with Gwendolyn Brooks when she writes, “we strike straight”. Cool people are no nonsense. There is no being two-faced. Cool people don’t pretend to be someone they’re not, and they certainly would never say something they didn’t believe, just to spare feelings. My parents were very straight with me. It’s an American concept to tell your kids they’re perfect and can be anything and do anything. America’s the greatest country in the world. College is the best four years of your life. What goes around comes around. These are lies that kids are told growing up to keep us on the “right” path. Wilde says, “Illusion is the first of all pleasures.” People are begging to be deceived. Cool knows the truth. Cool knows America was never great, college shouldn’t be the best four years of your life, (in fact you shouldn't even go) and you can be the best person in the world and life will still screw you over. I’ve spent most of my life looking at one big illusion. The reality is everything is replaceable, your life is meaningless, and most people are the worst. As depressing as that sounds there’s an upside. The sooner you realize it, the sooner you stop trying to fit in with your peers, the more tightly you will hold on to the friends worth keeping, the sooner you stop worrying about insignificant things, and the easier it is to focus on the simple joys in life.

“Death is just down the street”, wrote Brooks. I could die any minute. So why am I wasting any second of it doing things like writing an essay? The answer is unfortunate. The reason I and anyone else does stuff like go to college, is because we are afraid. We lack the courage it takes to deviated from the cookie cutter life we are told to lead. As amazing as it sounds to quit school, go travel the world, and learn through experiencing, for the tiny blip of time my life-span allows me, I don’t do it. It’s sad but I will probably never be brave enough. That is why we respect cool people. They do what all of us are so unbelievably afraid to do. We are terrified to give up our safety, to truly live. Is a 3 hours biology lab really living? Is jogging on a treadmill? Is going to starbucks?

Though I don’t think I will ever be brave enough to be truly cool, but I can inch toward it. When I look back on the times when I felt I was truly living, I see is a London street, a cliff in Hawaii, or the slopes down to Lake Tahoe. Living has everything to do with dying. “Get busy living or get busy dying”- The Shawshank Redemption. Cool tells us to dance with death. I don’t believe in god and I don’t believe in fate, but I do believe that we have this life, and that’s all we get. What else are we here for, but to live? Just as Langston Hughes wrote, “But for livin' I was born.” I believe that even if we’re not brave enough for the gigantic leap of faith that truly cool people take, we still have opportunity for some minimal street credit. My lens is definitely not a “cool” lens, or I would definitely not be here, in Shalala Student center at University of Miami, typing up an essay about how much I wish my life was cooler. I think there are alot of awful things about our world that are more than enough reason to not want to live at all, but there are also things that are reason enough to continue living. We can love. We can taunt death. We can help other people. That to me is cool. Whether you’re a rockstar or a graffiti artist, you are giving something to the world that makes it worth all the bad. This is why I want to be a doctor. Because as uncool as a career is, giving people a second chance at living is worth it.

You can’t expect life to be easy. If you say it is, then you’re either lying, or you’ve never lived at all. As Frederick Douglass wrote, “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” Cool is struggle, continued struggle, and rebellion. You always have to be fighting for something, against something, or for something better. Freedom? Equality? I want to fight for other people. Throughout my life all the most inspiring people, the coolest people I’ve met were people who fought for others. This is what I believe in because I’ve had the privilege of having degrees of freedom and equality, and yet nowhere near enough. It’s a continuous rebellion, a “private rebellion” (Cool rules). Never accepting the way things are is the key to progress. Never accepting yourself as finished. Never letting anyone put you in a box. I am not my stereotype. Debois writes to this. He knew no matter how many times people tried to tell him what or who he was, he was not that. I don’t want to grow up just to be what everyone told me I was. “Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”(Wilde). In a world where original seems impossible, I will continue to change myself and my worldview by peering through many different lenses.

#assignment1

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