#It's literally being married for all intents and purposes without need a wedding or even a paper

[chilly-me-softly]

Fake Proposal • John Stones

I saw a video on instagram and got the idea but as usual I got carried away, writing like a 4k long piece so read it at your own risk.

-

"Ugh" John sighs letting himself down on the couch resting his head on your lap, one of your hands immediately going into his hair as you smile.

"Your mother again?"

"My mum again" he sighs before hiding his face in his hands and holding back a moan in his throat, "She's been breathing down my neck with the whole marriage thing. Please help me"

"How? It's not like you can pretend to have a girlfriend and propose" you state slightly but his eyes snap open staring at you.

"No" you thunder, "No John. Get that look off your face. No" you shake your head covering his eyes as he squirms managing to lock your hands between his.

"Please, please (Y/N) help me" he pleads and you're the one who has to try not to meet his gaze so you don't give in to that madness.

"They'd never believe us John, everyone knows we're friends"

"That's exactly why it might work (Y/N)!" he sits up abruptly, "if I do it with a random person it would be suspicious" his gaze is lost somewhere, his eyes move as if he's picturing everything and you can almost see the wheels of his brain in motion.

"And then how are you going to do that? Your mother wants a wedding, she won't be satisfied"

"I'll buy some time, she'll be less on my back at least for a while and then I'll think about it" he looks at you expectantly, he seems really determined even though he would never have thought such a thing until just now.

"Please (Y/N). I don't like fooling my mother like this either but if I hear again how I'm getting older and need to start a family I swear I won't answer for me anymore"

"Fine" you sigh closing your eyes, missing his surprised expression and then his big smile before he literally throws himself at you.

"John! John John John" you giggle trying to get him off you, "don't get into something bigger than you"

"I won't, don't worry"

-

Don't worry. Sure. He makes it easy.

John seemed to take it all lightly, just happy to get his mother and her demands off his back for a while. He'd booked a cabin in the mountains for a couple of days ready to spring into action as soon as possible, counting down the days just like kids waiting for Christmas Day to open their presents.

You must have been crazy to have agreed to help him with something like this, you kept repeating it by packing your suitcase or letting people know you wouldn't be home or waiting for him to pick you up. And then you had decided that if nothing you would enjoy that couple of days' holiday at his expense.

You look around to see if you've got everything before you leave, when John honks. He gets out of the car to help you put your bag in the boot as you close the front door, but it's only when you're both getting into the car and you've fastened your seatbelt that he leans in to leave a kiss on your cheek.

"What's all this sweetness Stonesy, are you afraid I'm going to say no?!" you tease him as he starts the car, shaking his head.

You take over the radio, spending the ride humming songs and complaining about not finding the right one and asking John if you're there.

"(Y/N) I swear, you're a pain in the ass" he sighs before turning right heading into a driveway.

"If you had told me where we were going I would have checked it out myself" you retort looking around as a few houses finally start to appear under your gaze.

"You really need to learn how to chill out" he sighs, "And anyway, we're here"

"I'm totally calm" you state getting out of the car slamming the door on purpose earning you a warning look. Men and their cars.

And you leave him to pick up the bags you brought while your eyes don't know what to look at first. The swing next to the door strikes you immediately, you've always wanted one but never had the space so you immediately rush onto it climbing the stairs waiting for your friend with a huge smile on your face.

"Come on in, let’s go pick out your room"

"I get to choose?" you ask rhetorically following him, being captivated at first glance by what's in front of you. The place is similar to all the ones you see in typical Christmas movies, wood seems to be the main material of the whole construction and the fire in the fireplace is already lit giving the room a pleasant warmth.

"Sure. But only if you're quick" one look and you're already running down the stairs trying to pull him by the shirt and not fall at the same time.

"Mine!" you flop down on the bed panting deciding to go straight for the farthest room in the dark, "go get my suitcase now"

"We're not engaged yet, you can't boss me around like that" he argues leaning against the doorframe sneering but you dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

"What if the other room is nicer?" he asks returning and placing your bag at the foot of the bed, you don't hint at moving from your comfortable spot.

"I like this one" you murmur clutching a pillow to your chest.

"Yeah but what if the other one's prettier?!" his tone blatantly mocking as you roll your eyes giving in to curiosity, complaining loudly as you get up and make your way to the other room.

You open the door thinking you're going to find who knows what, but you find that it's a copy of the room you just left. And his bags are already there so he knew that, that bastard.

"But they're identical" you murmur confused, looking around for a sign of diversity but not finding it. "John! They're the same!" you complain turning to him and hitting him with an open palm on the arm receiving only laughter from him.

"Stop teasing me"

"Sorry sorry. I couldn't help myself"

"Keep laughing, I'll have fun later John Stones" you try to scare him but the smile on his face that doesn't hint at disappearing tells you that you failed in your intent, making you roll your eyes.

-

The first of the two nights you spend there goes by without a problem, well at least after you get familiar with the place and calm your brain because not all the noises you heard were due to thieves. And the next morning you and John have breakfast still sleepy before he proposes you to take a tour around there, the day before you had gone to the city to fill the fridge and you had stayed there and it didn't seem right to spend days away from the city without really spending days away from the city.

After getting ready, you take a path not far from the house and following the various signs along the way, you find yourself in a place that is stunning to say the least. You find yourself on a bridge built over a river, on one side of which there is a small waterfall, creating a unique and relaxing atmosphere.

"You don't want to do this now do you?"

"Ssh you have to look natural" he leaves a light kiss on your cheek before throwing a sideways glance and you call on all your strength not to follow his gaze, pretty sure you'd run into some guy intent on filming the moment.

"Now I'm going to pretend to tell you something cheesy so pretend to get emotional" he starts gesturing and you can't hold back the giggle that escapes your lips as he drops to his knees.

"(Y/N)" he gives you a knowing look and you cover your mouth with your hand trying to hide that smile, from a distance it will look like you're really excited instead.

"Okay so... I need to spend some time like this. It's uncomfortable and um blah blah blah will you marry me?" John starts ranting taking a small box from his jacket pocket.

"You didn't really buy a ring" you mutter shocked when he opens the small box, the surprise completely true at that moment at seeing that item.

"Are you going to hurry up and say yes? My knee is crying out for mercy" he presses you gritting his teeth as you then quickly nod and he gets back to his feet holding you close to him.

"You could have at least prepared a speech" you murmur in his ear tugging at his hair slightly as he laughs, pulling away to put the ring on your finger. His hands actually shaking as he does so and then he draws you to him unexpectedly, connecting your lips with his.

-

"I knew I'd find you here" you smile turning your head towards John, him handing you a cup of hot chocolate sitting next to you on the swing while you adjust the large blanket over your shoulders even around his as you can.

"What does your mum say?" you sigh blowing on that steaming drink looking ahead of you.

"See for yourself" he unlocks his phone quickly opening the conversation with his mother.

'Mum I did it' he had texted sending a picture of him kneeling in front of you and you hugging then.

'Johnny! Omg yes!!!!' 'Wait... is that (Y/N)?' 'I knew it' is mum's frantic reply making you giggle as he pulls back his phone not letting you see anything else.

"I'm glad she likes me" you giggle taking a sip of chocolate.

"She's always liked you" he retorts and silence falls between you two for a moment before he sighs.

"(Y/N) if you're upset about that kiss, I'm sorry"

"It's alright John, it was an act" you reach out to set the mug down, "after all which proposal is believable without a kiss" you joke elbowing him in the side as he sighs passing his arm around your shoulders pulling you to him. Both of you not so sure about it.

-

"I believe this is yours" you murmur taking off the ring and handing it to him, for some reason you didn't manage to give it back to him either the night before or over the course of that day and now that he's about to leave after driving you home it's your chance. It's now or never. But he is quick to shake his head and tighten that object in your hand. "No, keep it... in case my mother comes to visit"

"Don't" you point your finger at him making the most threatening face you have triggering his laughter. "I can't keep my mother at bay"

"John"

"(Y/N) listen, it's just a scenario. It's not going to happen"

"You can't be sure of that"

And in fact a few days later, when you had finally decided to go out grocery shopping, you opened the door and found the woman in front of you. The surprise had been such that you stood open-mouthed in front of her for a few moments before you shook yourself and made her come in.

"Were you going out dear?" she asks you going to sit on the sofa casually as if she was coming to your house every day.

"Just a bit of groceries, I can go later" you had dismissed it removing your jacket and sending a panicked message quickly 'I'm going to kill you!!!'

"Good" the woman looks around before congratulating you on the house, to which you reply embarrassed.

"Oh don't be embarrassed (Y/N), we're going to be a family soon after all" she states and you clear your throat, "Can I get you anything, some water or tea...?"

"A glass of cold water thank you" you apologise then and quickly go to the kitchen opening the fridge and hiding behind it you take the phone back into your hand.

'John Stones!!!' 'Your mother is here!' 'I'm going to kill you'

John doesn't even view the texts and you can't stand there forever waiting so you grab the water jug and take it to the woman.

"I don't want to take up so much of your time, you might be wondering why I'm here" the woman smiles after taking a sip.

"Um I can guess" you hide your nervousness around your glass, struggling however to down a sip of water.

"I assure you I'm not always this nosy" yeah right, "but with John I worry maybe a little too much" you smile at the woman's bluntness, taking time to observe her better you can see how much she actually looks like John.

"I never know how to handle him, he's always been so secretive about everything and I've always tried to push him because I want what's best for him" you don't know if you read right into it but it sounds as if the woman is trying to apologise for something. And you open your mouth to say something but she beats you to it.  

"You've been friends for a long time, I should have seen it coming" you gasp with a suddenly blank mind, internally screaming at yourself to get yourself back into sense so you don't look even more hopeless. But apparently the woman is more focused on something else and doesn't notice your obvious discomfort.

You follow her gaze, caught by a photo of you and John from a few years earlier. You're not fond of pictures of yourself around the house, where everyone can have access to your memories, but John had given you the frame begging you to put it there, so you had pleased him.

"Can I just ask how long you've been together?"

"I don't know" you answer without thinking before widening your eyes trying to make up for it, "I mean... there was no specific date. It just happened I guess"

"I really should have seen it coming" for a moment it's as if she's lost in thought, shaking her head in disbelief, "there isn't a day we don't end up talking about you and he's always so fidgety when it comes to you"

"Really?" you ask surprised straightening up with your back as your phone vibrates but you don't feel the need to pick it up.

"Yeah, and he always has a smile on his face when it comes to you"

"John smiles all the time, I don't think that can be considered a one-off"

"Yeah but there's ways and means of smiling. It reaches his eyes"

-

"What happened? I was at practice I just saw the texts. I'm so sorry (Y/N), I'm going to have a good talk with her" John speaks sharply as soon as you pick up the phone and you have to raise your voice a little to make yourself heard and shut him up.

"It's okay John" you state around a spoonful of ice cream, the container in front of you.

"I'm sorry (Y/N) I swear, that woman crossed every line" he mutters and you can imagine his serious expression, his eyes a little darker than usual and half-closed, his nostrils flared.

"John no" you stick your spoon into the ice cream sighing, "don't do anything hasty, just calm down. Where are you? Are you driving now?"

From the other end of the phone only silence comes before you hear a sigh, "I'm on the road"

"Come to my place okay?"

The drive hadn't been that long to your house so you can still sense the annoyance in his figure and his gaze as he walks in and heads into the kitchen immediately eyeing the box on the counter.

"Why are you so annoyed?! Where's the carefree Stonesy from the last few days?" he looks around before stealing the spoon from your hands and taking some of that ice cream after sitting down on the counter.

"And why aren't you in full hysterics?" he retorts taking another spoonful of ice cream as you roll your eyes.

"I was at first, I wanted to kill you if you remember, but then we talked" you walk over to him taking the bowl out of his hands as he groans trying to take it back.

"If you're hungry I can make you something"

"That is fine"

"I don't think it's good for you" you put the lid on before setting the box down in the freezer before turning to him again, seeing him with his arms crossed giving you a dirty look. You do the same raising an eyebrow, you've become an expert at holding up his game over the years.

"What did she say to you?" he gives up shortly after relaxing his figure by swinging his legs, "she didn't treat you badly did she? She can be a bit-"

"Nosy? I noticed that" you shake your head opening the fridge just to do something as he pushes on. "Well?"

"Hmm? Nothing, I guess deep down she came to apologise because she didn't know we were together and apparently she's been pushing you into a lot of random girls' arms lately and stuff" you gesture shrugging and closing the door, giving him just a sidelong glance.

"Are you sure? There's nothing more?" John checks wary, it's your apparent calm and the bowl of ice cream you were practically devouring that put him on his toes. He'd practically been able to feel your panic through those texts you'd sent him and then he sees you and you seem to be a different person.

"You know me John, if there had been anything else or she had disrespected me in any way I certainly wouldn't have kept it to myself" you try to sound as calm as possible but your playing with that ring, taking it off and putting it back on, gives you away.

"Come on say it" he sighs, lowering his gaze to his shoes for a moment as you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Just say it"

"John I don't know what you're talking about"

"I told you. Just say it" and he looks like he's ready to be hit just as if you were going to do it with a punch or something. But you just sigh as you move closer to him, his ankles linking lightly to your legs seeking contact.

"How long are you going to keep this up? Because I'm with you, I'm in now and I'm going to keep playing along. But your mother is just that, an eccentric mother only concerned about her son"

"So if we actually get married..." he leans his head slightly to the side smiling innocently as you smack him on the forehead rolling your eyes.

"Did you hit your head lately? Did you even hear what I said?"

"You said you would like to be with me"

"I said your mother is a good person, and she doesn't deserve this" you retort without giving your brain time to process what he's telling you.

"But if you really think about it, it would be perfect. I'd solve all my problems by not turning out as a liar and you'd have me"

"Did you just imply that I can't get a boyfriend in a normal way? I hope not"

"Sorry, I didn't mean that" he chuckles at your threatening expression pulling you to him and leaving a kiss in your hair.

His gaze is lost somewhere, he's so easily distracted you almost read surprise in his eyes when he lowers his head and realises you're still there. "John, what's going on with you mh?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm starting to really think about what my mom says. And that she's right. When football ends, what will I have left? What's wrong with me? Why couldn't I find anyone?"

"Hey no John listen to me carefully now. At thirty you may be considered old in your profession but I can assure you that for the rest of us life begins at that age" you take his face in your hands gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs making sure he sees and hears you above all, "you will have all the time in the world to find someone if you want to, to start a family and come to terms with the fact that you are getting older and your hair is getting white"

"Never" he quickly retorts, making you giggle, "I'll never have white hair"

"We'll see... if you can keep those curls, you'll be trouble even when you're old"

"Oh wow so you think I'll make it to eighty still on my own?!" he jokes strengthening his grip on your legs and moving forward slightly.

"Eighty? You have very high expectations for your life" you downplay by moving your arms along his neck.

"Aah what would I do without you" he sighs happily holding you close to him again, "Promise you'll always be by my side?"

At your non-response, his grip becomes more pronounced literally crushing your face into his chest. "Promise me"

"I promise. I promise" you giggle making his chest vibrate with your laughter as well. Quite often you're the one with the identity crisis and John has to play the therapist, calming you down and reminding you to get your feet down on the ground. But often the roles are reversed and you're the one putting the boy's pieces back together, happy that all those years of friendship have created a relationship where he's not afraid to be fragile and let himself be fixed.

"You'll always have me" you remember him in his arms, and when you pull away to let him know with your gaze too, he's already there looking at you. You see his face move closer to yours and instinctively you step back.

"Please I need to know"

"Know what?" his tone is almost a plea while there is confusion and nervousness in yours.

"If what I'm feeling inside is true" he knows you well by now and he can catch your eyes widening in surprise for a split second, a reaction that to unfamiliar eyes might not have happened.

"Can I kiss you?" you nod but you're already closing your eyes waiting for his lips to touch yours again.

-

"What are you doing?!" you ask giggling to yours and John's brother upon seeing the two of them exchanging some money.

"He bet fifty bucks your engagement was fake. And he lost" your brother is obviously very happy to have earned something in that whole thing, your brother-in-law is not so happy though.

"You bet on us?!" John asks incredulously at your side, an arm around your waist.

"Is that so unbelievable?" you hide your smile in the glass in your hand.

"You don't know John if you ask a question like that"

"Eh I can assure you I know him quite well" you two exchange a look of understanding as your brothers pretend to vomit. And you leave them arguing about the validity of that bet, turning away from everyone to have a moment alone in the garden of that facility that hosts you.  

"Are we ever going to tell them the truth?"

"Who, to those two? Nah my brother deserves it"

"But mine doesn't" you quickly retort making John chuckle, "I'm sure we can find a way to take them off him"

"How?" you ask interested as he leaves a kiss on one cheek before moving closer to your ear, "We can steeal them"

"John Stones! You're such a bad influence on me... Let's do this" you rise up on your toes to search for his lips. "Anyway, your family is so damn crazy, nothing surprises me anymore"

"You're not completely normal either admit it"

"Hmm maybe you're right. I must have been pretty crazy that day to going along with you"

"Just that day?" he teases earning himself a hit on the arm before he draws you back to him to kiss you.

"I can't believe we actually got married" he sighs connecting your foreheads gently.

"Who knew my happy ending was always right in front of me"

"Sometimes I think if it wasn't for my mom we'd still be wandering around looking for someone"

"You mean your mother would still be introducing you to some girl"

"Are you jealous?" John smiles cheeky as you do the same. "Oh you know there's this little thing called a divorce"

"Oh no. No no no no, not now so many things seem to make sense. Don't even think about it" he shakes his head energetically tightening his grip on your waist as you laugh, running your ringed hand through his hair.

"I love you John Stones"

"I love you (Y/N) Stones"

#my writing #john stones #john stones imagine #john stones imagines #original #john stones one shot #football imagine #football imagines

[serpenteve]

is it just me who thinks that both versions of the darkling suck at manipulation? it's obvious that show Darkles was just not trying at all because he fell in love pretty much at first sight, but I don't think book Darkles was very good at it either? Alina never really becomes dependent on him at all, he very obviously did not set out to seduce her romantically (despite the retcon in R&R) and even seems to be avoiding her at points. Alina is never convinced at any point that he's into her beyond physically lol. I definitely do not believe book Darkles when he tried to say he wouldn't have collared her if she hadn't run away though - she was going to end up in it eventually no matter what. I think he did a good job of feeding her insecurity around her summoning but beyond that...I mean he couldn't even get her to be loyal to HIM let alone all the Grisha. What are your thoughts?

I don't know what was in the script, but Ben plays the Darkling like a lovesick puppy with TERRIBLE game because he hasn't been on a date in like 300 years ☠️

Like, the whole "darkles manipulated alina" narrative in the show is a fucking joke to me because all I see is fucking idiot who is genuinely like *shocked pikachu face* when Alina hates him for putting that collar on her like "whaaat? She doesn't like that I killed a magical deer for her and used it's antlers to gift her this awesome necklace that gives her a massive power boost??? Why is she yelling at me like that??"

Like, dude. Buy her dinner first 😂

The only time I feel like he actually manipulates her is when he implies they're going to destroy the Fold but then he's like "pfffft why would be destroy it when it's the greatest weapon we have" and she's like "YOU LIED!!" and then Ben has this truly hammy moment where he does this dramatic ass villain turn while his face is obscured by darkness but even then it's like "Yeah, she hates me now but she'll forgive me in t-minus 15 years and then the wedding is back on" 🤡

The story tries so hard to be like "he's pURe EviL!!1" and it's literally just darkles looking at Alina with literal TEARS in his eyes or even bothering to show so much genuine emotion when he doesn't even have to because Alina isn't even in the damn scene to witness it 😂

Like that time he was acting like a heartbroken 15 year old when he gets roasted by Kaz or stands on the other side of the door after Alina left and all you can do is point and laugh at this immortal dumbass like

So maybe there was *an attempt* by Show!Darkling to manipulate Alina at the start but that pretty much went out the window when she first started yelling at him and he immediately decided to plan their immortal married life together like a hopeless dork:

In conclusion: show!Darkling is a hopeless simp whose entire eViL pLaN got derailed because he caught feelings for an angry sunbeam 😌

As for book!Darkling, he at least didn't get his plan derailed until much later and unlike his show counterpart, actively HATED his crush on Alina? Like it was a massive fucking inconvenience to him and he'd be so embarrassed to see the absolute simping clownery that show!Darkling got into that he'd probably fake his death again.

But the other thing about the book is that book!Alina herself is so desperate for approval and a place to belong that she makes it very easy to manipulate and play on her emotions.

The reason book!Darkling comes across as more morally grey is because a lot of his actions always end up serving like two different purposes (one of them working in Alina's favour, and the other self-serving):

He deliberately keeps Mal's letters away from her to try and cut her connections to the past, but this actually ends up being a good thing because even Alina later admits that had he not sabotaged her communications with Mal, there's no way she would have learned to summon her power on her own (In the show, it comes across more like Darkles is low-key jealous that Alina has a strapping boyfriend and he probably cries himself to sleep reading their letters lmao)

He initially stands up to Alina getting railed on by Baghra when her summoning is weak because he doesn't really need her to be a good summoner if he can just strap a collar on her BUT this ends up helping Alina feel better about herself because he's like the only person who ever advocates for her or gently encourages her

He lies to her about destroying the Fold but his plan actually makes a lot more sense, especially looking at the complete clusterfuck Ravka became after the Fold got destroyed lmao 😂

You could argue his first kiss is pure calculation because he wanted Alina to be loyal to him with something other than duty or fear, but his second kiss at the Winter Fete was literally just him losing his cool and he even admits he doesn't want to give in to his "weak" puny mortal emotions, but this implies there is still some humanity left in him

Had Baghra not shown up to warn Alina, it's likely Alina would have worn the stag collar with 100% consent because she was looking forward to it, but she likely would not have consented to him using her powers to expand the Fold so when he says "that was never my intention" with regards to collaring Alina, I think he really means that it was never his intention to collar her without her consent but he decided he was gonna do it anyway once she ran off....however, I think he's being deliberately vague by leaving off the part where he planned on using her power to destroy a village lmao

So while I think book!Darkling definitely manipulates her because he's a man for whom the ends always justify the means, it still leaves me feeling kinda "meh" about the whole thing because had Alina been a more morally grey character herself, they could have literally just taken over the world???? the wasted potential 😭

#the darkling #darklina #viv answers #dorksander #why leigh why #this answer was a rambling mess pls ignore

[yoontopia]

𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 | 𝗺𝘆𝗴

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: anti-soulmate au; light smut (in the form of making out, thigh grinding), angst if you squint, fluff, strangers to lovers, arranged marriage (kind of)

rating: M (for the light smut, swearing)

word count: 5.4k

summary: either you find your soulmate by the time you’re 25 or a partner is chosen for you, that’s the law. (un)fortunately for you, you were just born without a soulmate scar, an anomaly in a world defined by fate, so it seems your decision is made for you. you meet min yoongi the day after your twenty-fifth birthday and its everything but what you were brought up to believe. there are no sparks, no bells, and definitely no love.

author’s note: unedited because I wrote it pretty much in a sitting. will be editing later!

You are happy for Solhee. She’s twenty four-and a half and manages to find her soulmate by literally running into her outside the twenty-four-seven grocery store on the corner of the block. Solhee barely had six months to go before it would have been too late for her. The system assures you that you will find your soulmate, your other half, before the age of 25. If this doesn’t happen, the government intervenes and matches you with someone they see fit.

 It wasn’t always like this. Your parents met when they were in their thirties, and are very much soulmates, if the matching marks on their wrists are any indication. But the government insists that anything after 25 is too late, especially to further the population. Society literally dictates that you’re married off by the time you’re 25.

 You don’t want to know what happens if you don’t follow the law. And you’re happy Solhee doesn’t need to find out either. Solhee’s soulmate scar shines in the sunlight as the two of you sit out in the park, sipping on juice boxes and eating home-baked cookies. She tells you of her meeting with her soulmate, and the rush to get married so they can make it in time before the deadline. A plain, white gold band glitters on on her left ring finger.

 “It felt like coming home,” she tells you, sighing and staring up at the blue sky. “Finding my soulmate, I mean. You know me, I never believed in this stuff. I figured if I didn’t find them, Big Brother would just hitch me off with someone and that would be okay. But I’m glad I found her in time. I can’t imagine it now if I hadn’t.”

 You nod along, taking a sip of your pineapple juice. It’s sour, but you like it. Your eyes wander over to Solhee’s wrist — her mark is a small crescent-shaped moon — it matches the one on her fiancee’s wrist, and it stands out on her pale skin. You squeeze at your juice box to get the last remaining drop out, trying to ignore your empty, unmarked wrists.

 Your soulmate mark never appeared. The latest you should’ve been able to see it would have been your 18th birthday. You remember, hiding away from your own party, rubbing your wrists raw, begging it to show up. Looking back, you aren’t sure who it was you were begging to.

 Of course, you aren’t alone. There are several cases like yours. Marks that fail to show up, or even individuals who have the mark but don’t manage to find their soulmate on time. There is a solution for that — the matching program ensures you don’t end up alone.

 After seeing your friends and coworkers find their soulmates though, you’re not sure you want someone to be arranged for you. It feels artificial and feels like you’re missing out on something incredible. What if the person they match with you doesn’t love you? What if you don’t love them?

 It’s been a while since you’ve entertained such childish thoughts. You’re an adult now, almost 25, and this is a reality. In the next two months, on your 25th birthday, you’ll wait for the government to contact you. They’ll send you a name and then check in on the two of you consistently to make sure the match is happening. It’s not like you have a choice and you suppose its better than being completely alone and soulmate-less for the rest of your life. In a way, you’re almost grateful, as someone who doesn’t have the mark. You just wish things could be different.

 You watch Solhee marry the love of her life exactly on her twenty fifth birthday. She glows in her dress, and as her best friend and maid of honour, you’re busy making sure the wedding goes by without a hitch. You’re the last of your friends to turn 25, meaning you’re the only one in the group currently single. Taehyung and Jimin, also friends from your college days, laugh and tell you to enjoy the last of your bachelorette days, but their entwined hands are all you can focus on. You know they’re just trying to make light of a rather depressing situation, and you’re grateful

 You meet Min Yoongi on a snowy evening, the day after you’ve turned 25. He’s got curling dark hair, ears adorned by various earrings that dangle in the light. A delicate nose, and strong hands. He looks at you like he’s looking at a stranger, which for all intents and purposes, you are. You clutch at the letter in your hands with his name on it. You smile tentatively at him. He doesn’t smile back.

 It doesn’t feel like coming home at all.

 You move in with Yoongi as soon as the new year starts. He has a roomy apartment in the centre of town and lives by himself so its easier. He helps you move your boxes into his place. He never says much, but he’s never rude, or mean to you. In fact, he’s been polite, respectful — even caring, in a way you are to a coworker or an acquaintance. He shows you around his small flat. It’s two bedrooms, one of which he’s turned into a small studio. You know he works in the music industry, but aren’t sure what his exact job entails.

 “I can move my work stuff to my actual studio at the company,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you don’t want to sleep in the same bedroom, that is. I don’t want to force you.”

You smile slightly, scratching your cheek.

 “No it’s fine,” you say. “I don’t want to encroach. I promise I’ll stick to my side of the bed.” He nods.

 “I usually work odd hours,” he says. “I DJ at the club down the street some nights, so I don’t come home until early morning hours. Usually I work from home during the day. There’s a schedule on the fridge.”

 “Um, I work a regular 9-5,” you tell him and he nods again. “I’m home on the weekends and evenings.” It feels a little like drawing up a schedule with a roommate. You don’t really mind. It could’ve been so much worse.

 Yoongi’s running a hand through his hair. You notice he wears a lot a jewelry, and file away this fact for later. His ears are adorned again with several earrings, pierced in multiple places. Bracelets clink on his wrists of various materials and colours. A single, silver necklace hangs around his neck, two fish swimming in a circle. He’s a Pisces, you realize. He’s been twenty five nine months longer than you have.

 “Make yourself comfortable,” he says, waving a hand towards his small, but cozy living room. A small couch and an armchair sit pointed towards the TV. A guitar sits in the corner of his studio, next to an old brown piano. Hints of music adorn the place, photos of Yoongi with his friends at various concerts and gigs. He looks different when he smiles. He has yet to smile at you.

 You spend the rest of the day moving in, and its evening before you emerge from your now-shared bedroom with Yoongi. He’s nowhere to be found and the taped schedule to the fridge tells you tonight he DJs.

 There’s containers full of food on the counter with your name on them, and you assume he’s left you some of his own meal. You eat alone, and do the dishes. You go to sleep that night, feeling no different from your usual self.

Months pass by quickly once you’re settled in with Yoongi. The two of you fall into an easy routine. You cook breakfast, and he cooks dinners and lunches are usually eaten at work. You split your grocery costs.

 Honestly speaking, he’s a really easy roommate to live with. As time goes by, you get to know more things about each other. You learn that he likes meat more than anything else, that he has a tendency to overwork himself when deadlines are near. He has three close friends that he’s grown up with, and an older brother. His family owns a small brown poodle called Holly. His brother is a chef at a Korean restaurant in the city. You’ve met him once and liked him. He’s allergic to seafood, but eats it anyway because he likes it too much.

 You also know he has, or had a soulmate. One time you caught him coming out of the shower wearing nothing but jeans. You were curled up on the living room couch watching TV and you could see him shuffling around shirtless in the bedroom, looking for a shirt to pull on. It’s the first time you see him without his usual bracelets and there is a mark on his wrist. You can’t make out what it is from where you’re sitting, but its there, clear as day against his milky white skin. An uncertain feeling curls in your stomach.

 Until this point, you’d assumed Yoongi was like you — wrists bare. But this changes things — either he’s never met his soulmate, or they aren’t around anymore, and you don’t know what’s worse. He hasn’t spoken about it, and you almost understand why. It’s not like the two of you are close. Everything you know about him, you’ve gleaned from information you’ve received indirectly. You understand now, why he keeps you at an arms length.

 You catch up with Solhee and Jiyeon over brunch. The two are bright eyed, fresh off their honeymoon. Hands entwined under the table, giggling. You laugh along with them, forgetting for a minute about your situation, that is, until Solhee brings it up.

 “So how’s Yoongi?” The question is casual, but you know it’s a loaded one. Solhee isn’t just asking how Yoongi is.

 “Fine,” you pick at your food. “He’s asleep right now — worked till late.”

 “Hey he’s the DJ at Tropical right?” Jiyeon asks, leaning forward. “The popular one.” You’re dazed. Six months of living with him and you don’t even know which club he works at. You nod anyway, not wanting to appear clueless. “I heard he’s really good. Taehyung knows of him through Seokjin.”

 “Kim Seokjin?” You ask, surprised. It’s one of Yoongi’s friends. Jiyeon nods. “He owns the club.”

 “Hey we should go check him out one night!” Jiyeon is excited, and clueless. You smile half-heartedly at her and Solhee sighs. “Tae can get us into Tropical on the day Yoongi works — when does he work?”

 “Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays,” you reply. Jiyeon nods.

 “So… who’s down for it tomorrow?”

 The club is sweaty, and crowded. You’re here without telling Yoongi, a fact that already makes you feel guilty for some reason. The strapless number Solhee had forced onto you clings to your skin as you follow your friends towards the bar. You haven’t been to a club since university and you can’t help but feel a little out of place.

 “There he is!” Jiyeon screams, pointing towards the small stage at the other end of the dance floor. Sure enough, Yoongi stands there, two laptops in front of him. His hair is tucked into a baseball cap, but other than that he’s dressed the way he usually is, in jeans and a silk button up. The music is loud, and your heart thumps in your ears. “Let’s go closer!”

 The three of you make your way closer to the stage, maneuvering past the sweaty, drunk bodies. You can barely make out the music he’s playing, and you know barely anything about music to know what’s good and what’s not. He must be good though, if the crowd is anything to go by.

 Solhee pulls you and Jiyeon into a corner next to the stage with a good view and the three of you stand there bopping along to the music. Even though you barely know him, you have a strange feeling of pride curling up inside you. He’s incredible.

 Your eyes glaze over the crowd until they land on a woman, standing only a few feet away from the three of you, one arm crossed under her chest, the other caressing her chin. She’s also watching the stage, a smile on her face. The world seems to spin for a second because your eye catches the mark on her wrist, and you don’t have to double check to know that it matches the dark haired man on the stage.

 The night goes from bad to worse when Yoongi jumps off the stage after finishing his gig, and she runs up to give him a hug. You feel like throwing up, but nothing compares to what you feel when his eyes find you over her shoulder.

 Things quickly sour after that. The peaceful relationship the two of you shared previously is shattered. You avoid him on the nights he’s home, preferring to crash at Solhee’s, who’s more than happy to accommodate you. Jiyeon apologizes profusely but you cannot blame her, not when none of this is her fault in the first place.

 “Don’t you think you should let him explain?” Solhee asks one day over dinner.

 “There’s nothing to explain,” you say automatically. “Their marks are there — it’s self explanatory.”

 “What a harsh system,” Jiyeon adds softly. You nod. If there was a way for Yoongi and his soulmate to be together, you’d want it to happen. Then maybe you wouldn’t feel like an awkward third wheel. “Do you think they found each other after the deadline?”

 “Definitely,” Solhee nods. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have been matched.”

 “I don’t want to come in between anything,” you say softly.

 “Oh honey you’re not,” Solhee says. “None of this is your fault.” You bite your lip, holding back tears threatening to fall. You haven’t cried in front of people in years. “It’s not Yoongi’s fault either. You should really go home and talk it out. He probably misses you.”

 You choke out a laugh at that. The idea that Yoongi misses you is ludicrous. You were a nuisance to him at best, even though he’d been nothing but respectful of you and your space.

 “What the two of you need is to spend time together,” Jiyeon says, and Solhee nods. “Get to know him, tell him he needs to come clean with you with everything. Maybe then things will see peace.”

 You decide to go home that night. You know it’s a Tuesday and Yoongi should be home. Stomach in your throat, you shakily unlock the door to his—your— apartment. The TV is on, and Yoongi is curled up in the corner of the couch, swaddled up in a blanket. It’s only been a little over a week, but you find you’ve missed him. You find you’re also surprised he’s actually here. A part of you had almost expected him to take off. He turns to look at you and starts, hurrying to turn the TV off. It’s oddly clumsy from someone who you thought was aloof, and it almost makes you giggle. Almost.

 “Hey.” You say lamely.

 “Hey,” he replies back. It’s awkward. This is such a bad idea. Who decided confrontation was healthier than hiding from your feelings? You’d like to prove whoever it was wrong. You sigh, slumping a little, mind wandering again to the pretty girl that is his soulmate. You don’t usually hate how you look, but in this moment you can’t help but draw comparisons. Yoongi’s pretty too after all. Giving him a curt nod, you begin to make your way to the bedroom.

 “I’m sorry.”

 You pause, and turn to look. He’s standing up now, blanket still around his shoulders. A closer look tells you he looks tired. His ears are devoid of earrings for the first time, hair unkempt and greasy. He’s not wearing his usual bracelets — you suspect he only did it to hide his soulmate mark from you. You must be staring at him with a dumbfounded expression because he repeats his hushed apology.

 “For what?” Your voice is just as shaky.

 “Everything.” He says instantly.

 “Do you love her?”

 “No.” his reply is instant again, and you find yourself believing him. There’s no lie in his eyes. “I met her a month after we… moved in together,” A month after the government threw the two of you together against your will.

 “Do you want to try things with her? I promise I won’t come in between that, I know how wonderful it can be to—”

 “No.” He says again, his voice firm. He takes a tentative step towards you.

 “Why not?” You’re genuinely curious. He shrugs, almost as if he doesn’t know the answer himself.

 “Don’t want to.”

 “Why not?” You turn to face him completely now. The two of you glaring at each other. He’s struggling to find the words and stares up at the ceiling in defeat.

 “I don’t wanna leave you alone alright?” He snaps. You scoff

 “Don’t pity me. I can take care of myself just fine. Did it before you came along too.”

 “Don’t act brave when you don’t have to,” his voice is softer now. “You think I don’t hear you cry to yourself at night when you think you’re alone? Or when you hang out with those friends of yours and get suddenly quiet?” You open your mouth, then close it. Yoongi had attended a total of one party with you and your friends. You were surprised he picked up on it at all.

 “But she’s your soulmate,” you say, confused. He shrugs and sits back down on the couch, flicking the TV back on.

 “Yeah, she’s also someone I don’t know, and someone I’m not going to bother to know” he says easily. “I’m not gonna chase after her if it means losing a friend.” You didn’t even know he considered you a friend.

 “B-but that night at the club?”

 “Didn’t know she’d be there,” he says. “I’d told her to never contact me again the day I met her. Just because she thinks its okay to be unfaithful to her partner doesn’t mean I think its okay too. I’m not about to live that kind of life, especially with someone who thinks something like that is okay.”

 “Oh.”

 “Yeah.”

 You take a hesitant step forward.

 “What’re you watching?”

 “Sky Castle.”

 “Can I— can I join you?” He nods, patting at the empty spot on the couch next to him. “What if you regret this down the line?” You ask at last, sitting down on the other end of the couch. It’s your worst fear and you can’t believe you’re voicing it. “What if one day you wake up and wish you’d gone after your soulmate instead of settling for me?”

 He smiles faintly, more to himself than anything. You think this is the first time he’s probably smiled in your presence.

 “I made a choice already 5 months ago. Haven’t regretted it yet,” he says simply. He doesn’t deny that he settled for you, not when it’s the cold hard truth. You settled for him too after all.

 The couch feels like home for the first time since you’d moved in.

 Things change again quickly after that. You and Yoongi fall back into that seamless schedule, but now there’s a little something to it. The two of you are still far from a couple, but you find yourself curling up next to him in front of the TV more often. He waits for you to eat the meals the two of you are able to eat together. The two of you even do activities outside the apartment. You meet more his friends and he meets more of yours. Its progress. You don’t mention his soulmate again, and neither does he.

 You find Yoongi’s actually a really easy person to get along with. He’s funny in his own dry, sarcastic way, often saying jokes with the straightest of faces. He snappish and straightforward and has an incredibly low tolerance for bullshit. His friends baby him, probably because of his smaller stature and childlike features, and although he grumbles, he lets them. You even think he enjoys it. He smiles more in front of you now, gums on display, and you know that his cold persona in the beginning was just a front. In reality Yoongi is a shy, awkward boy that finds it hard to make friends, and so he comes off aloof, but is anything but

 It also makes sense to you why Yoongi had been so firm in staying with you all those months ago. He’s steadfastly loyal, never going back on his word, and even honest to a fault. Sometimes, when you’re in one of your self-deprecating moods, you think he only chose to stay with you because of his principals, and not because he actually cared for you beyond a friend. But you’re glad he’s here nonetheless. With all your friends paired off, you’re glad you have someone to do things with. Someone who, in a way, belongs entirely to you.

 You marry Yoongi exactly one year after the two of you met. Non-soulmate matches don’t have the deadline to wed as soulmates do. As long as Big Brother (as Solhee so lovingly calls the federal government) knows you’ve been matched in their system, you can take things easy and get to know one another. How sweet of them to allow that, you think to yourself sarcastically.

 He looks smart in his plain black suit, hair neatly parted, showing off his forehead and well marked eyebrows. He looks older like this. You wear a simple white dress, and carry a bouquet of lilies down the aisle. Yoongi doesn’t cry with happiness at the sight of you, but his slight grin warms your heart. You know that whatever the case, you’ll be comfortable with him.

 He plants a simple kiss on your lips, a formality more than anything else. You and Yoongi aren’t physical. What you share is a platonic friendship, and you try not to let your mother’s suggestive wink cloud your mind. While you like Yoongi, you’re not sure you think of him in that way, and he definitely has never thought of you as anything more than a friend. Yoongi’s hands are warm and calloused and familiar, and you think you can learn to make a home in them.

“My parents are soulmates,” you tell him on your wedding night as the two of you lie on your shared bed staring up at the ceiling. “They met when my mother was 27, my father 32.” You don’t know why you’re telling him this. You’ve changed into your comfy PJs, but Yoongi is still in his dress shirt and trousers, top buttons undone, tie loose. You want him to know you.

“Mine were too,” he hums. You turn to look at him. You’ve never met his mother. His father and brother were at the wedding, but you weren’t sure if the topic of his mother was a sensitive issue. “Until things didn’t work out and she left him.”

“Oh?” Stories like that were rare. This is your first time hearing one. Yoongi doesn’t elaborate on his mother’s life and you don’t ask, grateful that he’s entrusted you with this information.

“I guess that’s why I don’t really believe in the whole soulmate thing,” he continues, sitting up and pulling his tie off. “There’s no such thing as fate or destiny. It’s all about choices and commitment.”

His soulmate mark is visible to you now as he gets up to take his shirt off and change into something comfier. It almost looks like a tattoo, a small fish, not unlike the one he wears in his necklace. The mark is familiar to you now, but it doesn’t carry the same pain. His words are new to you, having grown up around talks of fate and destiny, but you find comfort in them. Hearing him say it like that makes your heart warm. The two of you fall asleep easily that night, facing each other, but still a few feet apart

 Yoongi’s eyes flash as you enter the bar. You’d gotten dressed at Solhee’s place and she’d sat you down in her chair, eyes devious, and done your makeup. You feel uncomfortable in your skin, face heavy with everything she’d slapped on it and you pull down your skirt.

 “Cheer up, you look hot as fuck,” Solhee hisses beside you as the two of you make your way to the reserved table where the rest of your friends are. “If Yoongi doesn’t get a boner after this, I don’t know anymore.” You shush her hastily, ears going red as you sit down across from your husband. He’s still staring at you, something dark evident in his eyes, and you try to ignore the roaring in your ears.

 Marriage had treated you two well. You still weren’t physical, but sharing pecks before heading off to work, or cuddling and hand holding weren’t foreign concepts anymore. You weren’t sure how far Yoongi wanted to go, and you didn’t know what you yourself wanted.

 Yoongi looks good today. He’s wearing his infamous dark silk button up, with the top three buttons undone so you can see the column of his throat. His hair is parted and in the dim lighting he almost looks like a feline ready to pounce on his prey. You swallow.

 Your husband’s beauty is not foreign to you. You’ve seen him shirtless before after all. You’ve seen his hands as they glide over piano keys or when they pluck at his guitar. Yoongi is beautiful and you can’t deny the attraction you have grown to hold for him. Your insecurities however, prevent you from verbalizing your thoughts. There’s just no way he’d be attracted to you, not in that way. Next to Yoongi, you look painfully average.

 He doesn’t say much, just sits across from you and sips on his whiskey, occasionally leaning forward to snag a nacho from the shared plate the table has ordered. You wonder if he’s angry at you about something.

 Halfway through the night, the several glasses of wine you’ve drunk catch up to you and you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You’re trying not to stumble and you’re thankful you make it to the bathroom in one piece.

 When you come out of the stall and are washing your hands, you jump when you see Yoongi enter the bathroom.

 “Yoongi!” You hiss. “This is the girl’s bathroom—.” Yoongi raises a well-marked eyebrow, and walks up to you in two quick strides. Before you know it, he’s crushed his lips to yours. You’re taken aback but you melt into the kiss quickly, hands roaming up to grasp onto the front of his shirt. His hands settle on your hips before moving to grab your ass. You gasp and he takes the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue.

 Dimly you’re aware that this is technically your first real kiss. He tastes like whiskey as he pulls you closer to him, shoving a leg between your thighs. You let out a whimper, and you can feel him smile against your mouth. He lets go with a pop before latching his lips onto your neck. You throw your head back with a groan, freely grinding on his thigh now as he licks a thick stripe up your neck and nibbles at your ear.

 “Let’s get out of here,” he groans, voice deep. “Before I fuck you in this disgusting bathroom.” You moan at his words and make a voice of complaint when he pulls himself away. You straighten your skirt hastily and eye him, his lips swollen and smeared with your lipstick. He grabs your arm by the wrist and pulls you out of the bathroom, out of the bar and into the crisp night air. The two of you giggle as you walk to your apartment, Yoongi stopping you periodically to steal kisses.

 You unlock the door hastily, and he pushes you in, slamming the door behind him and latching onto you immediately. You moan as his hands reach your skirt and pull it up over your ass.

 “God,” he groans in between kisses. Your shaky hands are unbuttoning his shirt. You push it off him. “Please tell me you want this.” He walks you towards your bedroom, shoving you onto your bed.

 “Yes,” you respond instantly, breathless, looking up at him. “Yes, oh god, of course I do.” He’s climbing on top of you now, leg back between your legs. You grind onto his thigh, wild moans escaping your mouth as he sucks a bruise onto your neck, his rock-hard erection prominent against your core. Your hands find his belt and take it apart, undoing the buttons on his jeans. He sits up to push his pants off him before reaching over to tug your top over your head. You’re left in a bra and underwear, your skirt bunched up at your waist, staring at him expectantly.

 That night is simple, the two of you moving in unison, finding what the other likes. Your hands disappear in his hair and he makes a home in the crook of your neck as you reach your respective highs.

You fall asleep blissful and satisfied, curled up in Yoongi’s arms.

 Your relationship takes yet another turn after that moment. Now its like the two of you can’t keep your hands off of each other. Consequently you do it on every surface in the apartment. It’s funny, you think, you haven’t even said the L word to each other yet, and you’re not even sure if you do. Growing up, you were taught that one came after the other, but your relationship with Yoongi is anything but conventional.

 At night, he holds you, curling his body around you like a child. You can hear his heartbeat this way, and nights soon become the things you look forward to the most.

 It still doesn’t make the relationship easy. You argue, slam doors, ignore texts, but at the end of the day when you crawl into bed, apologies evident on your tongue, he pulls you in and kisses the crown of your head wordlessly.

 You and Yoongi are solid; a team, almost. You think you work well together. Growing up you were taught that finding your soulmate meant ringing bells, and puzzle pieces feeling like they were slotting into place and you spent your entire adolescence craving that. But whatever this is that you share with Yoongi is special, in its own way. There are no sparks, no flashing lights, and definitely no bells. Now you know what Solhee meant all those years ago about the feeling of coming home. There isn’t any other way to describe this feeling.

There are many more turning points in your relationship that you look back on fondly — the day you told him you loved him is one you remember vividly. It was nothing special, just casual conversation over dinner. He’d given you a blinding smile and returned the sentiment.

“Do you regret it?” You ask, out of nowhere. You’re washing dishes and he’s beside you helping you dry them.

“Hm?”

“Choosing me, back then. Do you regret it?” You know the answer already. Gone are the many months you spent belittling yourself. It’s been a few years with Yoongi now and you know exactly where you stand with him.

“I wonder sometimes,” he hums. “How differently things would’ve played out.” Don’t we all, you muse to yourself. You could’ve been matched with anyone but somehow it was Min Yoongi that stood in front of you on that cold, snowy that day, unsmiling and unfamiliar. It feels like a lifetime ago. When you look at him now, he’s heartbreakingly familiar. You know him like the back of your hand. “But there hasn’t been a single day where I’ve regretted you.” You grin and poke his cheek with your soapy hand.

“Go wake Sunhee up,” you laugh. “It’s time to feed her.”

“Yes ma’am,” he tells you dutifully and you watch as he shuffles into the second smaller bedroom. Gone is the studio equipment, replaced with pastel green walls and a small wooden crib Yoongi had crafted himself. Sometimes, when you look in there, you can still see a dark-haired boy with his eyes closed, playing on that old brown piano.

#kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #min yoongi #yoongi fluff #bts #bts fluff #yoongi #suga #suga fluff

[seancekitsch]

Duty: A Cahir x Reader fic in the Intended series

Warnings: oral and penatrative sex, butchering of the tale of lady ragnell and sir gawain bc i remembered it wrong from my childhood, the slightest twinge of angst if you squint, hints to book canon events, 3k of unedited smut as literally always

You shiver has Cahir pulling the blanket up over your shoulders as you snuggle closer to him. Instead of east which proved two years ago to be completely unfruitful, you head north now, having heard something on the road about the Nilfgaardian army heading north. Wherever they were headed, you both figured your cousin might be. How excited you think she’ll be to see you alive. A family member not lost to the flames. Maybe she wouldn't recognize you anymore, now that you wear trousers and travel with a fugitive. Though you never felt hot summers in Cintra, going even farther north set the chill in even longer into the year. You figure it will be the height of the summer before you stop shivering. You wonder how Cahir handles it. Sweet Cahir who grew up in the south, the tropical heat of Vicovaro.You love the stories of summers by the Alba river, the warm summer nights under the stars. At this point, it seems like you'll never see it for yourself, so you vicariously live it through the stories he tells you. You ask him to tell them all the time, probably something he’s extremely tired of repeating, but it keeps away the chill, at least for a while.

He pulls your naked body a little closer to his, something he always says is that body heat helps to warm your bones. You think it might just be something he says to stay naked in bed with you a little longer. Since being able to pick up a little work on your travels, finding a room at an inns that the innkeepers would look the other way when you arrived, you can now afford to do this with him, rather than laying beneath the stars. You almost forgot what a bed felt like, but now every night your back thanks you for the new sleeping arrangements.

Your arm snakes around his waist, giving him as squeeze as you press a quick kiss to his pectoral. Contented sighs are common between the two of you, these relaxed nights frozen in time where you can be your most vulnerable on a continent that works its hardest to beat the vulnerability out of everyone.

Your eyes catch sight of the sword on the chest of drawers. Your sword. Not the dagger, not the sword Cahir lent you for practice. The sword he bought you and specifically had made for you. A weapon as an act of true love that means the world to you. He seems to catch the sight as well, you assume with his next words.

“What shall you name your sword?” he plays with your fingers, tangling your hands together. Your hands are soft compared to his, but he suspects that won't be for long.

“Ragnell,” you answer without hesitation.

“Ragnell?” he repeats.

“Yes, it's from a story that I heard as a child. There was this man that told stories the elves knew in the library.”

He presses a kiss to your knuckles, then realizes, “Aren’t the stories of elves taboo?”

You chuckle, and press a kiss to his chest.

“Oh I’m sure he would lose his keep if I squealed. Good thing I can keep a secret,” You hum, recalling the story, “There was a knight, and he was the nicest knight. And he fell in love with this woman who was cursed to be very ugly. She did not think he would actually love her, but he did and he married her. On their wedding night half of the curse was lifted, and she said: do you want me ugly during the day when others see me? Or only at night when it's just you seeing me? The knight, I forget his name, says: You may choose, I will be a good husband and love you either way. That act of love and freedom frees her from the curse and she can choose how he looks. It was my favorite story.”

Ragnell was the cursed woman, and he realizes it's the perfect name for the sword. A beautiful piece of metal but used for ugly purposes. He stares up at the gauzy canopy above your heads, the mauves and dark blues swirling together like the night sky. Like so many nights he spent with you in his arms next to the campfire.

Cahir wishes he knew you when he was younger. Knowing his fair share of stories of Nilfgaardian knighthood and bravery, he was as much a storyteller as a rambunctious child who used to run around the grounds of Darn Dyffra with a wooden sword in his hands. Had he met you earlier, you might have grown up loving one another. Maybe already married, living as count and countess of Darn Dyffra, destiny wouldn't need either of you in what it has plans. If only. He knows that even when he was young, he dreamt of you. Your features blurred and distorted, but it was always you. It took seeing you in the flames of Cintra that night to see you in focus, but it was always you. For a man who valued his pride, his accomplishments, he cannot help but to see his failures now as blessings. The intuition he felt in Cintra, the failure of what was to be his most important mission, utter failure but it was all to bring him to you.

“Ragnell it is,” he repeats your words, the name sounding nice on his tongue now that it has meaning, “May she serve you well.”

And then he kisses you on the mouth, lips capturing yours, open and eager. His tongue quickly finds yours, passing through your mouth like a promise, the sealing of a contract between your lips. He shifts to be on top of you, slotting his legs between yours as the hand not supporting him above you roams your body. After two years, affection like this doesn't feel stolen between the two of you, not rushed and fumbling like it used to feel. He moves from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck and then to your collarbone as his groping and fondling continues, spurred on by your soft moans and your skin feeling oh so hot under his touch. He kisses at your collarbone, licking and sucking a mark there, but before he continues you stop him.

“You don't have to, my love,” You lazily assure him, “You're tired.”

“I do,” he says, kissing down your body, from your chest, the valley of your sternum, your navel. You gasp sharply as his tongue darts out of his mouth to lick a stripe up along your hip above the bone. He continues farther, scooting to the edge of the bed, parting your thighs, pressing a lewd kiss to the inside of each of them.

“What kind of a knight would I be if I did not fulfill my duty to you?” There's playfulness in his tone that makes  your heart race, and you prop yourself up on your elbow to look him in the eye. You feel as if you’ll combust if he doesn't touch you more.

“So this is your duty to me? This specifically?” The image of you looking down at him, chest heaving and eyes wide is all he needs to want to dive headfirst into your heat, to spend the rest of his night between your legs.

There's something devilish in his eyes as he chuckles and presses another kiss to the inside of your thigh, nipping at it gently as you gasp.

“It is my duty to keep my lady satisfied, or else she chooses to leave me for another,” he mumbles as his lips move up closer to where you want him.

“Cahir,” your breath hitches as he tests the waters, licking teasingly at your clit, almost silencing you, “You have to be the only person I’ve chosen in my life.”

That's music to his ears. He licks again, this time with more precision, more purpose, earning him the ghost of a moan, the first of many. Each lick earns him a moan, but they’re nothing compared to the shaking moan that turns into a closed mouth whine as you head falls back into the sheets, his lips coming around the bud to suck on it.

“Cahir,” his name falls from your lips with a sigh. He watches you intently, giving your cult another harsh suck before dipping lower, licking you open and tasting your arousal.

“Better than the sweetest honey that exists,” he hums, mostly to himself, but your breath hitches again in response. He licks up as much as he can, tongue as deep in you as he can manage. One of your hands finds his hair as you chant his name, first running fingers through it gently, then starting to rake and pull as his ministrations pick up the pace.

Every time Cahir’s tongue is inside you, it's a dedication to your pleasure and your pleasure alone. You’ve long since forbidden him from apologizing again and again for the circumstances of your meeting. All in the past, you always say, but he hopes every time you come undone on his tongue he repents just that much more for the harm he caused you so many months ago. Cahir drinks you in, indulging and loving every second of it. Your back is arched off the bed, legs thrown over his shoulders as you grasp at his hair and the bedsheets. He loves the sting of your nails against his scalp.

It’s when he adds two fingers that your body reacts like lightning, replacing his tongue and again his lips attaching to your clit. There are tears, beautiful tears in the corners of your eyes as he watches you start to lose yourself. That’s right, he thinks, fall apart for me love. Your moans are beautiful, ragged from breathlessness and sounding like a prayer of his name and only his name, and he pulls them from you with every thrust of his fingers. He feels your muscles going taut under his touch, he can feel you ready to come.

“Give it to me, love, let go,” he urges, his free hand reaching over to grab your hand. He holds your hand as you come, shaking with a silent scream from your lips. His mouth and fingers work you through your peak, letting you down gently; his mouth licking up every last drop of your wetness.

“But what about you?” you ask as he comes back up to lay with you.

“You needn’t do anything tonight love,”Cahir whispers as he kisses you, mouth still wet from you. You taste sweet on his tongue, delving into your mouth as you regain your breath, body pliant beneath his gentle touch. But as much as he can say that, you can feel him hard and straining against your thigh, body begging for you even if he won't voice his needs.

“No, Cahir, let me reward you for taking care of me,” you break the kiss, a mischievous smile gracing your lips, “Think of it as MY duty to you.”

Your hands grab his shoulders and push him back onto the bed, now it being his turn to lay back and enjoy himself. You kiss him again on the mouth sweetly while you maneuver your legs over his hips to straddle him, soft hands cupping his cheeks as you do. Those stormy blue eyes watch your every movement as you start to move, rubbing yourself against him. The noises that tumble from his lips are beautiful, little whimpers and moans from someone who anyone but you would consider fearsome and formidable. To you, he's just Cahir; Cahir that’s oh so reactive to your touch, Cahir that’s so very vulnerable. A low, throaty moan reverberates from his chest as you line him up with your entrance and sink down onto his length inch by inch.

“Beautiful,” he sighs as his hands find their place on your hips, holding you against him. You lean back down, kissing him again as you start to rock against him, catching little moans of his on your tongue as you slowly bring him to the edge. His warm hands hold you tightly, gently guiding your hips as he thanks you through kisses. You take such good care of him. You kiss him again, and then pull away.

“I’m close.”

“Again?”

You nod, and he squeezes your hips a little tighter, your head dipping down, almost close enough to kiss him, resting all of your weight on your arms as your hips pick up their pace, thrusting yourself onto him as you chase your high.

“With me?”

He nods, and starts to buck his hips up into yours, meeting your gyrations. You fall over the cliff into ecstasy together; sweet quiet moans of each other's names as you watch each other's faces contort with the pleasure.

You tumble onto the sheets next to him, thighs aching and panting for breath. Cahir’s arms are immediately pulling you back in, against him. He kisses your hairline, your eyebrows, and just holds you there, allowing you to catch your breath on his chest and regain your bearings. He feels every breath in your lungs with his palm against your back. In, out, in, out. He feels every muscle in your body tense and relax under his touch, welcoming him in as embraces you, the way you think the kind knight might have embraced his wife, if they even existed in the first place. You sigh, face stretching into an easy smile, wishing this moment could just remain.

He will never get used to this, he thinks. No matter how many nights he gets to fall asleep by your side, no matter how many mornings he gets to wake up with you in his arms, he will never feel broken in. Not with you, and Cahir finds he doesn't want it to.

You let yourself be pulled in by Cahir, gladly molding yourself to his chest and lazily smiling at the feeling of his soft lips against your head. How strange it is, to feel love as a verb. To actively radiate it and push and mold it in your hands against another person. Perhaps that’s what the kind knight had in mind with his cursed wife. Your tired fingers flex against his sweaty chest. You want to get used to this. To have his touch feel like second nature, to fall into a routine of waking and falling asleep next to him. You want it all to feel like you’ve always had it, and you always will.

“I should marry you as soon as possible,” he mumbles into your hair, an admission of his desires as much as an admission of guilt. In his mind he’s thought of himself as yours forever since he learned your name. It’s been far too long— over three years— that he’s known you and hasn’t been officially yours. His hand runs along the flesh above your rib cage, smoothing out a muscle there. It’s not so much he wants you as a wife, he does, but it’s not his wish to possess you, more for you to possess him. He wants to be yours, and shout it from the peak of the highest mountain. He should have asked you sooner, in a more elegant way. Grand romantic gestures would embarrass you, but this seemed almost shameful to blurt out at this hour.

“We should get married.” He says it again, a fool for love. As much as he doesn’t think this is proper, he wants it to be known his intentions with you.

“Not yet,” you whisper, hoping you aren’t being careless with his heart. It isn’t that you don’t want to marry him. You do. You have since Brugge. Every fiber of your being wants to be his, only his, forever. While you sleep beside him you dream of doing it until you’re old and frail. You dream of retiring from a life of adventure happy to know your remaining family is safe, not in Vicovaro unless something drastic happens with the war, but somewhere nice. Somewhere warm where you can see the sun tan his skin and there can be a garden. But your gut is telling you destiny won’t let it happen just yet. Like if you marry him tomorrow like you so desperately want, everything will come crashing down. Marriage or celebration right now would be a harbinger of doom. You feel him stiffen beneath you.

“Not yet, you handsome thing, but soon. We have a cousin of mine to find. Once we confirm her safety, then we can be husband and wife. Maybe open up a shop to keep ourselves; become farmers together,” you sound pleading, wanting him to understand you without telling him of your gut feeling. You don’t want to scare him with your superstition.

“I can’t give you much,” he begins, but you lean up to silence him with a kiss.

“It’s not that, Cahir. You already gave me Ragnell. That’s more than a wife could ever want. Soon. Once we find Ciri.”

He understands now. Destiny and duty first. He nods, and kisses you back.

“Then I will belong to you,” he promises. You press one more kiss to his jaw, and then he pulls up the sheet around you and you settle in to sleep, tangled up in one another.

He falls asleep hoping you find Cirilla tomorrow so he can marry you the day after. He falls asleep with you soundly in his arms, holding him like you’ll never let go.

#my work #intended series #cahir x reader #cahir the witcher x reader

[nancylou444]

I tried to be nice

Replies to this post:

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Became this:

THEM:  hi! thanks for the answers I really appreciate the discussion. normally if someone ships something I don’t like or something like that, I’ll just leave them alone but.. just to be clear I completely respect all of your opinions, even agree with some of them, even if we might disagree on the incest and Castiel haha. So I don’t mean any disrespect with this at all, please let me know if I’m out of line though!  

 But... I saw some things you said, and they come across to me in a way that I don’t think you intended? I feel really awkward sending this haha, you’re very nice and I don’t think you said anything on purpose, but I just.. wanted to let you know that some of the things regarding your opinion on certain characters come across not very well? I don’t think it’s intentional or anything, and I don’t mean to call you out at all which is why I didn’t want to point it out in the replies y’know?  

 Don’t get me wrong though, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with not liking castiel or destiel. I’ve been watching the show for a while with my dad, and he isn’t a huge fan either, I don’t think that’s a problem :) 

I’d continue without waiting for a response but I don’t want to say something you’ve already been told, or continue without knowing if I’ve said something out of line already 😅

ME:  I'm kind of distracted dealing with my Mom's rehab center. But you can keep going.

THEM: Alright! I’ve tried rephrasing this a million times but I don’t know how to make it seem not antagonistic. I promise I don’t mean that you’re doing it intentionally, it’s just, uh a lot of your criticism of spn feels like it could be read as homophobic? Again I don’t think YOU are I just wanted you to know it kind of reads that way!

That sounded so confrontational. I really don’t mean it that way 😭

ME: HOMOPHOBIC? Really? A lot of the 'proof' your fellow shippers use border on stereotypes but you think I'M homophobic? Considering my top two ships are Wincest and Malec. Yeah, sounds confrontational.

THEM:  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I guess there’s no other way to say it, but I understand why you feel accused. What do you mean by proof..?

Also I don’t really think having gay ships means you can’t be homophobic. *I* used to be homophobic years ago, and I’m a gay person!

ME:  How old are you? https://nancylou444.tumblr.com/post/154098904136/a-guide-to-dean-winchesters-imaginary-bisexuality

THEM:  yeah this is starting to get frustrating. I’m gonna be real with you, why does it matter if people think dean is bisexual? like, bottom line, that is my question for you

and your answer will determine if your veracity is homophobic. why does it matter that some people think dean is bisexual. not the fans or actors or writers or anything. why does it matter that some viewers will watch, and they will think dean is bisexual?

ME:  My problem isn't that some people think he is bi IN FANON, my problem is that they want CONFIRMATION OF A FANON SHIP. And that some people DENY how the show ended. These same people think that fake weddings are more canon than the FINAL EPISODE.

THEM:  I get what you mean, but how is it a fanon ship when it’s confirmed romantic from one side, and interpretable as mutually reciprocated in Latin America? (I’m going to disregard the bit about the wedding, because I’m a firm believer in Neil Gaiman variety death of the author. Also that’s just people having fun with fanon, who cares?)

ME:  Confirmed romantic?By whom MISHA, who wanted to sell necklaces? Have you never said 'i love you' to a FRIEND or FAMILY member? The dub is not canon, so don't even try using that as proof. Death of the author is just another way of saying MY VIEW OF THE SHOW IS SUPERIOR TO HOW THE CREATOR WANTS TO SEE IT. Jensen has said many times that the ship isn't canon and that Dean is straight. But it's better to believe what Misha says because he agrees with you. You think somebody is bi because of how they sit or the color clothes they wear? That would make YOU homophobe.

THEM:  LOL You know what? I change my answer. I looked through your blog and you ACTIVELY and viscously hate Cas, Charlie, Claire, Kaia and the implication that Jack may not be straight. You’ve said Cas coming out as gay and in love with dean makes the rest of his actions predatory, compared him to a teenage girl, called him creepy, and openly rejoiced in your idea that dean looked ‘disgusted with him’. You said that Claire is awful, that Kaia is a wooden plank, that they ‘shoved them together’ for ‘woke points’ and said that Jody saying Claire was IN LOVE WITH Kaia ‘doesnt count’ and called it ‘lip service’. And it doesn’t end there! After all this, you said that you preferred the old better s4 Claire. Is it because she was ostensibly straight? Are you uncomfortable with queer women? And then you have the audacity to use these characters (Claire and Kaia and Charlie) as reasons to epicly own the Hellers and claim they already have represention. You are a completely disingenuous bitch and I don’t care to be nice to you anymore! I don’t feel AT ALL charitable toward you anymore, and I don’t care if you have gay ships. Gay people aren’t here for you to fetishize! You CONSTANTLY mock and ridicule jokes made by queer people regarding deans bisexuality or Cas being gay or any number of things. You constantly reaffirm that Dean is straight and call people who think otherwise delusional and disgusting, while you think dean is in romantic sexual love with his male sibling. You are openly hostile to the idea of non-binary jack and were pissed that Alcal endorsed that. You devalue Jack’s value and relationship to Cas who is, textually, his father figure. I have NO reason not to think that you are homophobic. I don’t care anymore! You’re a huge bitch and, judging by your prior responses and posts, a genuine dialogue regarding queerness in spn is impossible. You regard any instance of canonically queer moments ‘lip service’ and so regard it. You actively hate every canonically gay character and degrade them using traditionally homophobic tropes and stereotypes.

Feel free to explain how you aren’t homophobic. I’m so sorry if I got the wrong impression.

ME: Wow I see your true colors have come out HELLER.

THEM:  Idc if you think I’m mean. Go ahead and make a post about me lol, have fun with it. Give me a moment to respond to your paragraph it’s... a lot to dissect.

I’ll touch on your comments about the dub and the Spanish language in a moment. First though

I ’m gonna be real with you, I don’t think you know what death of the author is. Neil Gaiman’s variety of the dead author principal is that once canon ends, the story belongs to those that consume and engage with it. That’s... also literally the theme of supernaturals final season. Anyway I really recommend you read up on death of the author and Neil Gaiman’s takes on fanon. It’s a fun way to consume your media, and in the end that’s what I’m here for.

I don’t care what Misha says, and I don’t care what Jensen says! I think they are both queer because I have eyes and watched the show. I think it’s a lovely narrative that is supported by canon, and it’s fine if you disagree with that

On your last sentence there... lol. It’s a common joke in queer circles that gays can’t sit properly, specifically bisexuals. Same thing with the clothing, it’s a SUPER common joke for example that lesbians wear flannel. Maybe you need to go outside and talk to some normal, non-incest shipping queer people. But what do I know!

And finally... ‘the Spanish dub isnt canon’

I am literally cuban. My first language is SPANISH. my entire household speaks Spanish, and my family past 1st cousins don’t speak any English. My Boricua cousins have watched supernatural in full for years, and they watch it in Spanish. Do you think America is the center of the universe? Do you think our media is somehow less than yours, that our interpretations of English language media isn’t valid? What, do you think we are idiots who don’t know how to analyze literature and media? Do you think the people who work at Telemundo, people employed as dubbers and translators, you think they do a worse job than the American crew?

Why, because they aren’t American or don’t speak English? ‘Te amo’ said to a non family member is, in 99% of any instance, ROMANTIC. it’s something you say to your spouse in serious situations like weddings!! Even MARRIED people don’t normally say te amo, everyone uses te quiero unless it is very serious or romantic in context.

All of my family who are Spanish language, they heard dean say ‘y a yo ti, cas’ and think that they were in romantic love. Sorry dude! The United States might be the center of your universe, but Latin America is HUGE. Spanish is one of the most spoken languages in the WORLD. In fact, more people speak Spanish than English. Sorry that you seem to hate gay characters SO MUCH you have to say an entire language somehow isn’t valid to consume media in!

ME: 

Obviously this heller is batshit crazy. 

Some of those things she thinks I said just show she has no idea how to follow a tumblr thread. 

You are a completely disingenuous bitch and I don’t care to be nice to you anymore! I don’t feel AT ALL charitable toward you anymore, and I don’t care if you have gay ships. Gay people aren’t here for you to fetishize! You CONSTANTLY mock and ridicule jokes made by queer people regarding deans bisexuality or Cas being gay or any number of things. You constantly reaffirm that Dean is straight and call people who think otherwise delusional and disgusting, while you think dean is in romantic sexual love with his male sibling.

Wow. 

I have NO reason not to think that you are homophobic. I don’t care anymore! You’re a huge bitch and, judging by your prior responses and posts, a genuine dialogue regarding queerness in spn is impossible. You regard any instance of canonically queer moments ‘lip service’ and so regard it. You actively hate every canonically gay character and degrade them using traditionally homophobic tropes and stereotypes.

Where have I hated canon gay characters and degraded them using tropes and stereotypes? The bitch has me confused with HER FELLOW SHIPPERS. 

Gotta love how she is defending the Spanish dub. Hit a nerve did I? 

It’s a common joke in queer circles that gays can’t sit properly, specifically bisexuals. Same thing with the clothing, it’s a SUPER common joke for example that lesbians wear flannel. Maybe you need to go outside and talk to some normal, non-incest shipping queer people.

Now who is using stereotypes? 

#destiehellers #batshit crazy #your headcanon doesn't mean shit dean is straight #dub doesn't make it canon

[anextraordinarymuse]

Time for another trip down the Nathan x Elizabeth rabbit hole

Because it's Monday, and you know what that means my dears - we have more Nathan x Elizabeth things to discuss! Hopefully this won't be too disjointed, but I have a lot of things I want to discuss, so bear with me if it is.

To start: Elizabeth sure is giving away a lot of advice that she should be taking. Honestly, nearly every talk she had this episode with Ned, Katie, and Florence had me wanting to leap through the screen and shake her. Are you listening to yourself, Elizabeth?? DO YOU HEAR WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!? Actually though, I think she is - I think the fact that she's saying these things is a sign that she's moving into a better headspace now - she's making sense of herself again, and replanting her feet on solid ground. One of the things I have always believed is that if you can explain something to someone else, then you have a real understanding of that thing. And if you aren't sure, sometimes trying to explain it to someone else can help you: you'll either learn that you do understand it after all, or be able to identify the gaps. But Elizabeth doesn't look at all uncertain in the scenes where she's giving advice: she appears at ease, and thoughtful, and maybe a little inspired. In fact, the only times we really see any hesitation or doubt from Elizabeth this episode is when she's with either Rosemary, or Lucas. Interesting, huh?

From a purely positional standpoint there were a lot of interestingly staged shots in this episode. Note, I mean positional literally: the way they had the characters standing, and the way some of the shots were framed, definitely felt curious. And intentional. All of the HV couples are pretty lovey-dovey when they're together in this episode, with a few exceptions ... scratch that. They're all lovey-dovey in the scenes they're in together, with the exception of Elizabeth and Lucas. If a couple is in a scene together then they are touching in some way - in this episode, they either have their arms linked, or an arm around a shoulder, or have established contact in some other way. Notably, the only actual couple that we see not like this is Carson and Faith, but that's only in two of their scenes, and in both of those they are still standing close together and giving off a clear "couple" vibe.

This is not the case for Elizabeth and Lucas at any point this episode. In fact, they have little interaction this episode as a couple. Elizabeth talks to Lucas in the saloon about the Katie and Ned situation, but there is nothing in this conversation to indicated that they are involved in any way. No physical contact, no references to their relationship - if someone who had never seen this show saw this moment they would have no way of knowing that these two people were anything but friends. And even though they go to the wedding together, the same is true there. But, more interesting than that, is where the directors decided to seat Elizabeth and Lucas. If you go back and watch the wedding scenes, you'll see that there is a clear distinction between the two sets of pews: on one side, they've seated single people ... and then Elizabeth and Lucas. I mean single literally, not as a statement on their relationship. We have Fiona (single), Robert (single), Minnie (Married, but alone in this moment due to circumstance since Joseph is officiating and Angela is playing the piano), and Molly (single, for now), and then we randomly have Elizabeth and Lucas. But they're not touching, and they really don't even look at each other for most of the ceremony. Then, on the other side of the aisle, we have all of the couples/families: Nathan and Allie, Clara and Jesse, Faith and Carson, and Rosemary and Lee. Why such an obvious split? This was purposeful on the directors' part. This is a subtle but pointed nod to where Elizabeth and Lucas's relationship is headed.

But there are a few other interesting things to note in the wedding scenes. When Joseph is officiating, he says "You've declared your desire to be one, giving yourselves to each other in a life-long covenant. To be neither selfish, nor self-serving." Now, as the camera zooms in on Lucas and Elizabeth, there are some things to note: the way Lucas moves his one hand into his other hand as Joseph talks about the life-long covenant makes me think that he wanted to take Elizabeth's hand in that moment, but didn't. Instead, he folds his hands together and can be seen kind of rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand in what I think is a sign of frustration (because he wants to hold Elizabeth's hand). But Elizabeth's hands have been folded in her lap this whole time. The camera pans over a little to Elizabeth's hands and we watch her play with her wedding rings as Joseph says "to be neither selfish nor self-serving." Joseph says a few more lines, and then we get to this moment: "With humility, gentleness, and patience," and we see Elizabeth subtly glance to her side, where Lucas is sitting. There is so much to unpack here! None of this is coincidental. Elizabeth's relationship with Lucas is entirely selfish and self-serving, and it has been from the get go. (Note: self-serving means "having concern for one's own welfare and interests before those of others."). This is a moment where Joseph doesn't know, but we do, that he has essentially just a held a mirror up to Elizabeth and made her take a good look at her actions. But! The adjectives that Joseph chose are fascinating, because they are most definitely Nathan's: humility, gentleness, and patience. If I could only use three words to describe Nathan, they would definitely be those ones. Humble, gentle, patient; yeah, that's Nathan. Then, Joseph says, "... and keeping no record of wrongs, because you will be wrong." At this point, the camera pans to Nathan (and Allie), who have both struggled this season and been wrong in one way or another. So has Elizabeth, of course, but this moment is more about Nathan and Allie still having a loving, stable relationship despite their mistakes (some of which have made things a little harder on the other one at times).

Then we get to the reception where, once again, all of the couples are together - except Elizabeth and Lucas, who are not together and do not share a single moment together. But we get a lot of information about where this "triangle" is going from other sources at this point. I haven't mentioned it yet, but one of the things we see this episode is that Allie has found a new person to focus on lately: Paul. We haven't seen a lot of moments with her and Robert, but we do see Paul, Robert, and Allie together in the phone room, where Robert looks a little displeased with how happy Allie seems to be about getting to spend all this time with Paul. Remember, Allie's had a bit of a love triangle of her own this season: she like-likes Robert, who has decided he like-likes Anna. But now, when it looks like Allie might like-like Paul, guess who comes around and suddenly starts taking notice? Yep - Robert. At the reception, Robert compliments Allie's hair and then asks her to dance. This is obviously a sweet (and funny/innocent) parallel to the Nathan/Elizabeth/Lucas triangle. And, based on that little look on Allie's face when she finds out that Fiona likes to fish, and knows how, I won't be remotely surprised if we get a moment in 8x11 that's presented in a way to make Elizabeth jealous of a possible hinting at a Nathan/Fiona pairing. I don't think it'll be on purpose, but I'm wondering if maybe Allie will invite Fiona fishing with them or some similar situation will arise, and Elizabeth will see it - and be jealous.

Moving on, though. Aside from this scene, I think the last three-ish minutes of the episode tell us some very important things. First, we get the conversation with Lucas and Nathan where Lucas tells him to stop pressuring Elizabeth. Which Nathan handles surprisingly well despite how much it upsets him. This is what's important, though: in this moment, Nathan has no way of knowing if this comment is Lucas being a dick, or if he's saying it because of something that Elizabeth has said to him. It's entirely possible that Elizabeth told Lucas that she feels Nathan is trying to pressure her, and Lucas is simply warning him off. Elizabeth and Nathan haven't actually spoken since their moment in the Mountie office, where Nathan once again told her that he was in love with her - and she ran away. Again. So, I think it's entirely reasonable that right then Nathan might be feeling a lot of things: upset, vulnerable, discouraged, weary ... he has no way of knowing (yet) if Elizabeth is feeling pressured. He walks away, and walks past Elizabeth without a word. He glances at her, but doesn't stop, and doesn't even offer a hello in passing. He just walks by. And, seconds later - seconds after Lucas has just told him to stop pressuring Elizabeth - who seeks him out but Elizabeth? Unprompted, unencouraged, unexpected - there's a tap on his shoulder and there she is. HA! Who's doing the chasing again, Lucas?

(Side note: there's another thing about this moment that we're going to talk about on its own in a minute).

When Elizabeth asks to speak with Nathan outside, he looks both surprised and nervous. By the time they get outside, he looks downright anxious, honestly. I think he was prepared for Elizabeth to tell him that she felt pressured, and that he needed to move on because she didn't feel the same way (or something similar). But again, Elizabeth does no such thing. She tells him with earnest sweetness that she doesn't blame him for Jack's death; she finally relieves him of the burden that he's been silently carrying for three years. YES!!! And then Nathan takes her hands, and there's a lot to unpack here, as well. Now, some people think that this was a romantic gesture, but I don't. I think this was just a moment of connection between two people who have been bearing a heavy burden for some time; I think Nathan is just so relieved and grateful to know that Elizabeth doesn't blame or hate him that he can't put it into words, and tries to express himself through another avenue. BUT - again, the directors have chosen to present this moment in a very curious way. First of all, Nathan reaches for her left hand first - the hand with her wedding rings, and yet we don't see them in the shot despite having seen them prominently displayed in several of her scenes with Lucas. Secondly, the way that they chose to have Nathan and Elizabeth standing is absolutely reminiscent of a bride and groom at the altar. I mean, we just saw Ned and Florence in this position a few scenes ago. This actually kind of drives me nuts. WHY did they choose to frame the shot like that? And then we see Lucas through the window, clearly outside of and apart from whatever is happening with Nathan and Elizabeth. But there is NO REASON for this moment to be shot the way it was. And IN THE SAME episode as a wedding (just a few short scenes after said wedding, even).

Which leads me into another point: I have seen some people speculating/hoping that the "huge/shocking surprise" (or however Brian Bird phrased it) in the finale is a sudden wedding between Nathan and Elizabeth, or at least a proposal. Speculation that I have outright dismissed, honestly, because this is the show that took FIVE FREAKING SEASONS to let Jack and Elizabeth get married, and has drug out this damn love triangle for a whole season longer than it needed to.

BUT.

This episode has me feeling like I ... might be wrong. I mean, I've been wrong about pretty much everything else this season, I think, so who knows? But let's look at why I'm starting to think that those possibilities might not be so far fetched.

In 8x02, Nathan is going to look at Bill's land and he tells Elizabeth before leaving that he thinks it's time he settled down. When he does see the land, he immediately starts talking about building a house. Fast forward to 8x05, where Nathan and Elizabeth share that scene in her house where Elizabeth tells Nathan that he will always be the measure of the quality of man that Allie uses as "she chooses who to marry." The wording here stuck out to me (and others) as being somewhat odd, because Elizabeth doesn't talk about falling in love or building a family or anything - she says "chooses who to marry." Sounds like that wording applies to someone other than Allie, doesn't it? Now, fast forward to 8x07 and Allie surprising Nathan and Elizabeth with that moment in Bill's office. You know what scene looks like? A sudden wedding with a judge/justice of the peace. I don't say that because that's what I want it to be - I say that because I have been to weddings just like that, and that's what that scene immediately made me think of. It looked like a freaking elopement.

Now, on to 8x09, where we get quite a bit of this wedding/marriage imagery and symbolism. First, we get Lucas's conversation with Allie where he tells her about the man that tried to come between his parents. Now, the way the story is told, it's clear that Nathan and Elizabeth are in the place of Lucas's married parents (and thus, in the role of Allie's parents) and that Lucas is the other man, the interloper. So, now we have someone outside of Nathan and Elizabeth's relationship painting them as a married couple. Actually though, let's back up a second: in the beginning of this episode we get Rosemary talking to Elizabeth where she says "I wanna know why Florence and Ned took so long to commit to each other," and then goes on to outline that they've worked closely together for awhile, have known each other for years, and both lost their spouses a while ago. We literally start the episode with a mention of time, and how ridiculous it is that so much time has passed between Florence and Ned sort of being together, and actually committing to one another. Coincidence?

Later, in the party scene, when the men go to join the women to combine their parties, there's a moment where it shows the women from the front as the men walk over (who have their backs to the camera) and Elizabeth turns and half rises out of her chair. She looks at Lucas first, but her eyes are inevitably drawn to Nathan - she actually glances between the two of them a few times in quick succession, so it's easy to miss. But the real takeaway here is the way the shot is framed when Nathan takes Elizabeth's hands: he's holding both of them again, and he draws them closer to his chest, and then they just stand there ... looking like a couple at the altar, again. Of course, since Elizabeth is blindfolded, Fiona literally has to "give her away." Now, they're not alone in this scene, but it's framed so much like a wedding shot! Elizabeth is "alone" in the scene in that we can see Fiona's hands behind her, and a hint of the ladies sitting down in the background, but Nathan is standing squarely in front of her with a man on either side of him ... almost like there's a pastor on one side, and his best man on the other. (Side note: I laughed too hard at the image of Lucas as his best man, which is who it would be just based on position since the best man is always to the left of the groom in shots from this angle).

And then, we have 8x10. An entire episode about a wedding, in which Elizabeth has no significant scenes with the man she's actually dating, and nothing but significant scenes with Nathan. Alrighty then. Now, there are only two moments left in this episode that I want to talk about. First - and I only caught this because I watched the episode with headphones and captions on - is the moment that Elizabeth approaches Nathan at the reception. Nathan is talking to Bill, and if you listen closely he says: "I want to be married. I've been in this town three years ..." and then is interrupted by Elizabeth's shoulder tap. Y'ALL!!!! I WAS SHOOK! I mean, the statement isn't really surprising on its own since Nathan said way back in the beginning of the season that he wanted to settle down, but the fact that he just outright says it like that and that's the conversation that Elizabeth (unknowingly) interrupts!?!?! Second - this moment is then immediately followed by Nathan and Elizabeth holding hands once more like a couple at the altar, complete with Lucas in the window behind them simulating where the pastor would be standing to officiate? Damn. Everyone on this show just suddenly went "subtlety, who?" That moment of hand-holding outside still just boggles my mind, honestly, because there's just no reason for it to have been framed like that ... unless they purposely wanted to engender that wedding imagery.

Like ... at this point I'm kind of like, hell, I don't know, maybe the surprise in the finale is a freaking spur of the moment wedding. Even if it isn't, though, not only is it clear that Elizabeth is going to choose Nathan, but it's clear that they'll be getting married at some point. If we keep with the tradition of the last few years of having a wedding every season (or nearly that), then it would not surprise me at all if Nathan and Elizabeth get married in season 9. At this point, the only question is whether or not Faith and Carson will get married before Nathan and Elizabeth, or not at all.

So. This basically turned in to a novel, but there was just so much to talk about (and I'm sure I missed a few things I wanted to talk about!). If you stayed all the way to the end, thank you, and - as always - let me know what you think!

#nathan x elizabeth #nathan grant #elizabeth thornton #wcth #Jess' thoughts #seriously there was just so much to talk about #and I am finally excited for these next episodes again #after like a whole season of ... not being excited #no more love triangles okay? ever

[know-the-way]

I know it’s really stupid of me but I was kind of hoping for a redemption arc for Faustus. 😅😢

It’s not stupid, not at all! It’s natural to want to see the best in people, particularly when you believe they can be better than what they are now, so it’s completely understandable.

And, ya know, if the show gets picked up - he may have one yet still, we don’t know!

To me, this season really highlighted what the purpose of Faustus’ character is supposed to be, imo. Thinking of episode 4, we’re shown three different levels of corruption through three different characters.

The first is Harvey. Pure, sweet, golden boy Harvey is revealed to have some deep-seeded hatred of witches. Does he have any reason to hate witches? Well, let’s check - he lost a brother, got manipulated, controlled, and lied to by his first love, and has been in an endless cycle of extreme danger for the past year of his life. I think it’s fair to say we all understand that prejudice is not okay, but is it equally understandable why Harvey has some hang-ups about magic and witches? I personally think it is. (Not to the point of joining a literal witch hunt or angrily accusing your distressed best friend of killing your dad at her 17th birthday party 🙃, but understandable nonetheless.)

I personally think the intention with Harvey’s character being a cadet in Blackwood’s army was to demonstrate how, even when we believe someone to be morally good and just, they can become someone else when they endure pain and that pain is never properly addressed.

Did Sabrina apologize to Harvey for everything that happened between them? Yes. But did she repeat the same troublesome behaviors in different ways after that? Also yes. She didn’t demonstrate change in her actions, and a loootttt more happened with Harvey and the witch world in a negative way beyond his relationship with Sabrina, so the mistrust he feels isn’t entirely unjustified.

Then - “oh wow, oh my God, my second love has also hid being a witch from me, can I catch a fucking break here? Why should I ever trust another witch in my life?”

Answer: because they are humans, none being wholly good or bad, and they love you.

Roz talks to Harvey, tells him she believes he’s good, and demonstrably proves her own “goodness” by sacrificing herself to save others at Dr. C’s. Roz shows Harvey that she means what she says and her feelings for him are real - that she is a scared, broken human like him, just trying to do her best with what life has given her. Hence, when the moment of truth comes - Harvey remembers his humanity and proves his own “goodness” by saving her. But if Roz had never spoken to him, never acknowledged what he’d been through and that his feelings were valid... if no one had ever truly cared about his pain? It seems apparent that Harvey would have continued down a very dark path.

Which brings us to...

Mary. Mary has been literally murdered, had her identity hijacked by a demoness, her fiancé is dead, she doesn’t remember several months of her life, and her previous favorite student is a witch who has seemingly performed magic more than once on her.

Mary has every right to fear witches at this point. She has had zero trustworthy interactions with the witch world and from her perspective - her entire life has been stolen and no one cares. No one checks in on Mary, no one validates her pain, and as a result - no one in the witch world seems to have any compassion, humanity, or kindness in them. Enter the Pilgrims of the Night, who recognize her pain and fear without even knowing her, acknowledge it, and offer her solace in their congregation on the basis that her experience with witches is shared by the Reverend Lovecraft and his flock.

They prove themselves to her when the advice the Reverend/Faustus gives her (“let the dark in”) saves her life. My God, someone finally seems to care if she lives or dies!

People who care about others are good, so the church and the reverend’s mission must be good, too. Therefore, she is absolutely invested in whatever is asked of her and will blindly follow their lead in order to protect others from experiencing what she has. To me, Mary in the perverted universe represented the crossroads of corruption - where you truly believe what you’re doing is the right thing, even if it hurts others because those “others” have hurt you... and they will surely hurt again if you don’t stop them.

However, I think if Mary was finally told the truth - the full truth - and Lilith herself apologized for being the first piece in the puzzle... along with all the other witches... AND they showed that they actually cared about her well-being... Mary could find her way back through forgiveness. Or, at the very least, she could understand and process everything so that she could find a way to heal that doesn’t involve persecuting others.

And now, there’s Faustus. We aren’t entirely clear on Faustus’ history altogether, but we do know he’s had many experiences of being slighted by the churches of darkness (despite following the rules to a T).

He was rebuked by Edward for wanting to marry Zelda after mentoring him for who knows how many years, lost the office of high priest to him, and when he finally gets the title - here comes Edward’s self-righteous brat to fuck him over again. There he is trying to carry out the Dark Lord’s request to get Sabrina to sign her name in the Book of the Beast, even though she insults their doctrines and faith at every turn, and the coven and academy he’s had working like a well-oiled machine for the past 16 years is being slowly ripped apart. Why is the Dark Lord allowing this? Why is he having to endure a meddlesome child’s antics? Why is he not being rewarded for doing exactly as he’s been asked and returning the Church of Night to stability after Edward nearly destroyed it altogether? Like hello Dark Lord, can you throw me a fucking bone here?

Small victories - he finally secures Zelda’s hand in marriage and an audience with the anti-pope. This is what his life should’ve looked like two centuries ago, but no matter. He’s correcting it all now and by Satan, nothing is going to stop him this time.

But then...

Oh cool, Sabrina is here to intervene again and has presented the text of his old rival for consideration along with his (clearly superior) manifesto. What’s that, you say? Oh, she’s also gonna crash my wedding, accuse me of murder, and spread claims about my manifesto without having even read it? Wow, ahaha, sounds hilarious... except why am I not laughing?

He arrives in Rome and gets an inkling that the Dark Lord may finally be taking action about this heretical little monster because he’s offered the title of anti-pope by the unholy high council themselves. Finally, some appreciation! He just needs to hang on a little longer, eliminate these small meddlesome threats, and soon he will reside over a peaceful kingdom far removed from anymore mortal nonsense.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, what do you mean Sabrina convinces the council he’s unfit to be anti-pope? This is bullshit, man! You know what? Fuck this place, I’m gonna make my own damn church and ensure no other headstrong witches like Sabrina Buzzkill Spellman can ruin it. That’ll finally return things to ord- MY WIFE KEPT MY OWN CHILD A SECRET FROM ME?! WHAT THE FUCK?! Alright, that’s it, The Spellmans are clearly here to poison others (ironic foreshadowing) - time to wash my hands of them completely, I am so over thi- what’s that? The Dark Lord’s here? GOOD. About time this asshole showed up to set people straight and remind them that the values of his unholy church, which Faustus has exemplified perfectly, must be respected.

You mean for me to bow down to whom now? The halfbreed brat who has been directly and willfully wreaking havoc on the congregation he’s patiently and painstakingly lead back to greatness? Are you fucking serious, m8? No. Absolutely not. No. I’m getting out of here, and since I won’t have the little twat poison anyone else, I will literally poison them instead. Be free, sheep!

It’s up until this point that I believe Faustus was still mostly at the crossroads stage, same as Mary. He believed everything he was doing was the right thing, based on the teachings from the religion he devoted his entire life to, and that he’d be rewarded for serving the Dark Lord so faithfully - until the Dark Lord proved several times in succession that his religion was all a lie. That three+ centuries worth of groveling and abiding and waiting has meant absolutely nothing.

So now we have the Eldritch terrors. Beings more powerful than the oldest gods. He spends 15 years isolated in a time bubble purifying himself, devoting everything to them, and won’t it be so glorious when they welcome him into his ranks? He’s set them free now, after all, they owe it to him.

But doing the same action over and over and expecting a different result is what? The definition of insanity, friends. Of course the Eldritch terrors reject him, too... of course Sabrina gains their attention and veneration instead... of course he should have tried to seize their power for himself a long time ago... so, fuck it all, he’ll do that now. There is no right and wrong, there is no observed justice - if there was, he would have been rightfully recognized for all the time, effort, and pain he’s endured only to receive nothing in return.* No one ever acknowledged his pain... no one ever even considered it. Over time, that takes its toll.

(*Clearly, I mean this to be from Faustus’ perspective and not my own.)

Of course, he has inflicted more than his fair share of pain himself and I am of the personal belief he needed to pay for that, but... equally imagine being hurt over and over and watching those who did it walk away, not only without reprimand, but with the belief that they were right and just to do it? Could it slowly drain on one’s soul to watch the rules apply to some and not others? Debatable, I suppose, but I personally think yes.

So... I say all of this only to point out that there is still potential to acknowledge his pain. And thus, there is imo still potential to understand, communicate properly (I am very interested in any conversations he and Sabrina may have had during their training - I know he said she took a vow of silence, but clearly some talking occurred for Sabrina to learn so much about the void from him), grow, and finally - for him to be given the chance to repair everything he had a hand in breaking. It wouldn’t be an easy or painless task to get to that point, and no one would be faulted for not trusting him to do so, but I think there is potential for it. If they get picked up and they want to finally allow the characters some time to reflect and process shit, they could include Faustus in that.

#faustus blackwood #mary wardwell #harvey kinkle #caos #caos spoilers

[theviscountbridgerton]

Pray tell what Violet did for you to label her as awful?

I was probably exaggerating in my original ask - she’s only really awful in the Duke and I, and I liked her fine in the other books; but, in my opinion, she seriously failed in her duty to Daphne and caused a lot of the problems but never gets called out for it, and it really colored my opinion of her.

A list of my grievances below the cut. 

Obviously here be spoilers.

1. Violet has heard of Simon’s reputation as a rake and forbids Daphne from spending time with him. Then she meets him at the ball. There has been no updates or debunking of his reputation in the intervening period. As far as she knows, Simon was and still is a complete rake. Yet she decides on the spot that he’s perfect for Daphne and sets about marrying her off. Why? Because he’s a handsome duke? Because he’s polite for the two minutes they talk? Is she so desperate to have Daphne married off that she will overlook a terrible reputation as long as the man in question is a duke?

2. Anthony has know Simon for years, they went to school and university together. They’re best friends. Anthony knows exactly how Simon earned his reputation. He knows how much or little he deserves it. Anthony has been head of the family since he was eighteen years old. He takes his responsibilities and duties seriously. He is protective of his sisters and wants them to be happy. Anthony does not think Simon is a good match for Daphne and is opposed to their courtship. He’s quite vocal about this. Violet is aware of Anthony’s opinion on the matter. Yet, she ignores him. She admonishes him and doesn’t believe him when he protests. She’s so obsessed with the idea of Daphne marrying a duke that she doesn’t listen to Anthony, even though he knows Simon. Although, ultimately, Daphne and Simon have their HEA, Anthony's objections are completely valid and he’s right about Simon not having good intentions. Violet does a disservice to Daphne by not listening to Anthony and she gets lucky that it doesn’t end with Daphne being completely humiliated and her reputation destroyed.

3. As a married woman, Daphne’s main purpose is to provide an heir. It is is Violet’s duty as her mother to prepare her for this. On Daphne’s wedding day, Violet gives the worst wedding night talk ever. Violet is a grown woman with eight children. She needs to get over herself and give Daphne the proper information she needs on her wedding night. Daphne so ignorant about sex and reproduction that she doesn’t even know that babies result from sex, never mind how they’re made and is shocked to learn that people have sex for pleasure. (what does she think rakes do?)  She literally knows nothing about sex and Violet sends her off to get married without giving her even the most basic, simple facts of life. Simon uses her ignorance to lie to her and manipulate her and Daphne is only able to figure it out because of an off hand comment made by the housekeeper. Daphne is an adult and is responsible for her own decisions and actions but if Violet had prepared her better, or at all, she wouldn’t have been so easily manipulated and probably wouldn’t have ended up raping her husband. 

4. Simon leaves Daphne and she comes back to London alone, two weeks after her marriage. She doesn’t tell Violet the details but she’s clearly heartbroken by what’s occurred. (Narratively, we’re not supposed to think that Daphne raped Simon, so lets skip over that for now.) Violet has no idea what happened, just that Daphne is alone, miserable and the talking point of London society. When Simon does show up, two months later, Anthony, Benedict and Colin want to make sure that Simon isn’t going to hurt Daphne again - this is entirely valid because they know he compromised her, had to be forced to marry her and then left her after a fortnight of marriage. They’re looking for reassurance that he’s not going to hurt her a third time. Violet doesn’t know all the details but she must be aware that they know more than her about what’s really going on and that they’re looking out for their sister. She should be standing with them, looking for reassurance that Simon isn’t going to hurt Daphne again, or leave her alone and miserable again. Instead she calls the three brothers mentally deficient sheep. It’s bizarre to me that she would be so flippant about Simon’s behavior at this point. It’s almost as if the only thing that matters to her is that Daphne is married to a duke. 

Most people find that last scene of Violet dragging Colin away by the ear to be hilarious, but to me it compounds my dislike of Violet in this book and ruined her for the rest of the series for me. Violet is a great character, and definitely has her moments in other books but I think she completely fails in her duty to Daphne in this book.

I’m curious to know if I’m completely alone in this opinion? 

#bridgerton #violet bridgerton #the bridgertons #the duke and I #spoilers #loveisharderthanitlooks #asks

[primedirection]

The Difference

This is the final part of the series I hope y'all like it! Either way let me know. Fair warning though this is long.

You're somewhat of a hurricane once returning home and getting past the barrier of the door. Sweeping up and through everything you think you might need. Clothes, electronics, toiletries and more tossed into a suitcase.

You had no idea where you were going but anywhere was better than staying here to deal with his insufferable aloofness.

Thankfully you retrieved a headstart by ubering here with Gemma. Who was not only worried about you going off alone, but admittedly didn't want to risk giving off the impression of taking Harry's side by riding with him.

The quiet calm of the house is only temporary though, seeing as it's ruined as soon as he arrives. The very energy of it seems to seep and drain out at the sound of his voice in the distance. Arguing with Gemma about where you are. Which inevitably doesn't take long for him to figure out.

Without needing to look you can feel his gaze burning holes into you as he takes in the sight of you packing. A sharp surprised breath breaks the silence just before he urgently pleads, "Y/N, can we just talk for a minute,"

Especially after coming closer and seeing your almost full suitcase.

"We did that, and you still didn't listen. I'm done talking!" You reply aggressively shoving a perfume bottle inside of a side compartment. It was a favorite and you'd be pissed if you left it. "Now, I need some space,"

"Space for what?"

"To figure things out— to figure us out. I can't do that here,"

"What is there to figure out? We're getting married in several months. I love you, you love me. We love each other right?" Getting frustrated with spectating you going back and forth from dresser to suitcase, Harry takes it upon himself to interfere. Grabbing a top you just picked right out of your hand to make you focus on him.

Which was indeed annoying but it's more of what he said that bothers you, "Don't, don't do that,"

"Do what, what the hell am I doing now?!" He asks exasperated, raking his fingers through the front of his mane.

"Making it seem like I'm the one who had doubts all along! That's not true and you know it's not. You're the one that's had a funny way of showing it while I've been in this waiting for you to come around, and I can't keep doing that to myself!"

Taken aback he frowns hard, "That's not what I'm saying at all Y/N! I just meant that we're supposed to be spending our lives together why does this small thing have to change that?"

See this is why you wanted to go, you can feel your bugged eyes almost fall out of your head, "Small thing?! Harry we have major fucking issues!”

As usual he's in denial, "So what? No relationship is perfect, that's the whole point of working on it together. That's what makes it worth it,"

You snatch your top back out of his hand and blindly toss it in the suitcase beside you, "Together? Harry I don't even know what I did wrong for you to start treating me this way in the first place. It honestly feels like nothing I do is good enough for you anymore,"

Harry abruptly pauses at that, your words finally resonating with him. And if his crestfallen face was any indication of it, you'd swear that they bore an immense weight.

Not sure if it's to steady you or himself he halts you in place by the forearms pleading, "Stop, yeh don't mean that,"

"Yes I do," you sullenly affirm pulling away.

To hear you say that like it was the only thing that your were sure of, gutted him to the very core. Literally knocking the wind right out of him. You are his entire world that kept him going most of the time. How could he have fucked it up that royally bad to the point you couldn't see it? It profoundly terrified him.

He had to fix it, "Y/N you're more than good enough,"

Understandably so, you don't want to hear it, "Since when? Hmm? You said so your yourself, my little blue collar office party certainly wasn't."

In his current state of unnerved contrition, panic gets the best of him, "I never said that. Now you're puttin' words in my mouth,"

"Am I? Okay, lets pretend that's true.. It doesn't matter. You still never want to be around me. Hell I'm not even good enough for you to take the time out of your day off to work on our wedding! So why are we doing this?" You deadpan.

"Y/N, I admit that my timing was shit with Ken and you're right I really shouldn't have taken work out on you. I've been a right selfish prick. But just cos' I fucked up, doesn't mean that I don't want to be with yeh,"

You mutter a tongue in cheek, "Hard to tell," devastating him even more.

Being on the receiving end of the disparaging only makes him desperate, and in every sense.

He clutches onto you again, "Yeh know I love you, Y/N!" Defiantly you stare at the bed feeling yourself getting emotional, because you wanted to belive that again without doubt so badly. The menacing tightening in your chest and throat bring on the burning threat of impending tears. "Look at me lovie please?"

Sooner or later you do, annoyed that a few manage to escape. You wipe them away angrily with the back of your hand, "What?"

The look on his face is not only distressed but tormented, "Don't leave. Look I get it, I don't think about making you feel loved like it's something I've got to get done everyday. Yeh know? Like everything else, but it is and I'm going to from now on! I promise,"

"You've made promises before, how do I know that you'll keep this one?"

His hands slide down from your arms to hold both of your hands firmly. You noted as something he did out of habit whenever he wanted to stress something important to you, "Cos' anything else for us is not an option. I'll do whatever it takes,"

It's always sad when anything has to get to this point. But of course as reality would have it, nobody is perfect. As people we do need room to make mistakes in order to grow. Harry included. Faults aside, he was still very much the love of your life. For that he at least deserved the chance to prove himself.

Especially since he seems to be aware of his own errors now and finally taking accountability. It was the only way to move forward.

Although still perturbed in time you relent, "Fine. But I don't want to hear anymore talk of weddings or marriage until you prove to me that you're all in. Not until we're both sure that this is absolutely what we want,"

He wanted to argue til he was blue in the face that this is everything he wanted but settles for a relieved, "Okay then,"

Harry should've known that he was pushing it when he went to hold you right after, but he couldn't help himself. This very opportunity was on borrowed time and he refused to take it for granted. Even if it isn't reciprocated and is void of all enjoyment.

When he let's go you don't even look at him, you just get back to sealing and securing your suitcase. Which scares the life out of him, "Wait where-"

You sigh irritated, "I still need some space. I can't be directly up under you right now."

He wasn't estatic about it. Watching you brush coldly past him, but he'd compromise for you staying in the room down the hall over other extremes any day.

****

"You're on in ten!"

Harry should be used to Good Morning America by now after all the performances he's put on here, and yet here he was pacing. His stomach had been in knots from the moment he woke up this morning.

Normally the first shows were always the best and yet the worst. New music meant new reactions and although he trusted the unyielding support of his fans, others that weren't so nice would hear it as well. Which honestly wasn't so bad, it's just when he has to get on a stage and see their live reactions for himself is usually what's so nerve wracking. This time though he was a nervous wreck for one reaction in particular.

On cue of the third second his eyes land on the empty sofa across the room once again. He hadn't been able to stop checking for the past two hours. You said that you'd be here.

A couple weeks have passed and your relationship was very much still on the rocks. Apologizing helped to put a stop to your hurt but did nothing to mend the damage that was already done. Blatantly shown in the distance you kept.

An entirely new barrier went up between you. For all intents and purposes you moved into the guestroom. You'd be gone before he got up in the morning and in bed asleep before he even got home, even on days off. So affection and any room for proper communication were really off the table.

You were thoroughly guarded and while he kind of understood after so many ridiculous: It's over! Caught Red handed in wedding boutique with ex! headlines launched. He still hated every facet about it.

The new resentment from trying to explain the situation to family members, the total separation while under the same roof, the bullshit single word responses whenever he'd try and have a conversation through text when you actually were apart, or the way either of you didn't laugh together anymore. It was driving him absolutely mad.

He had talked to Anne and Gemma asking for advice on different occasions, pleading his case of how you wouldn't really speak to him, and they both managed to say the same thing: It's your fault!

Which wasn't necessarily wrong, but he needed an actual solution in order to fix what was happening. There wasn't much he could do with your jaded demeanor but he refused to give up. He had to do something to prove that he was still in this and not just to go through the motions.

Eventually Harry came up with the idea to extend an olive branch of sorts. To fix the parts that he had initially fucked up to show you that he is really going to change.

Today marked the start of one his biggest shows on the schedule. The first official televised live performance for the new album, and he couldn't think of a better moment to share. So he kind of purposely blocked you in the driveway the other night so that you'd have no choice but to talk to him in order to leave. And he didn't waste the opportunity to ask you to come hangout backstage before he went on for support.

As he suspected you'd been reluctant, especially given the last rehearsal that you attended, but overall you did agree and he was thrilled. But as time passed on up until the day of the show, that thrill shifted to excitement, and when the hours dwindled down to minutes before going on that excitement morphed into worry. He called twice earlier but received no answer. None of his team had received any sign of you arriving at the venue either. And as he walked through the curtain and onto the stage his hope was fully crushed.

****

Despite being able to force himself to go through the performance with a smile and all the bells and whistles. He couldn't withstand the facade of it any longer once the moment was over.

Other than disappointment he didnt know what to feel.

The band offered to go out to celebrate their phenomenal return and he politely refused. The urge to get an explanation consumed his every thought and was the highest of priorities at the moment.

So here he was pulling into your shared driveway at his earliest convenience. Noting the majority of lights on in the house and the unfamiliar vehicle parked out in front.

Inside the sound of your cheery voice alerted him instantly. Is this how you were normally when he wasn't around? And if nothing was really wrong then why didn't you show up or at least respond to his phone calls?

The answers to his inquisition come in the form of you sitting on the sofa, head tossed back in laughter nursing a glass of wine and you're not alone. At first glance he questions the random massive bloke in his home, but as Harry wanders closer he realizes the bloke isn't so random after all.

He'd seen him a zillion times in yearbooks and family photo albums and had even been introduced a few years ago. Since then every encounter with him had always been the same. Now Harry didn't like to use the word hate because it was really strong, but he absolutely hated Noah.

Anyone that knew Noah knew that he had a massive thing for you. They knew that he'd probably been pining for you from the moment that you met and at every opportunity given he'd try to weasel his way in.

Harry could admit to being unbearably pathetic when he was jealous, but Noah always managed to bring out the absolute worst in him by getting directly under his skin.

Above the borderline creepy and annoying core that made Noah... well Noah, was the exterior of layers that he put on and he put them on very well.

Not only did he get an insane amount of leverage for being your childhood bestfriend. Noah was charming and in a way that gave Harry a run for his money. Speaking of money Noah was rich and successful in that he owned his own company, that usually up until now kept him busy and away from you. In Harry's personal opinion, worst of all, Noah was devilishly handsome. Dark thick hair and brows over blue dreamy eyes and a strong chiseled jaw and cheeks that were neatly covered in hair that connected smoothly in which Harry could never attain himself. He couldn't even begin to get started on his physique. Noah had more muscles than Harry knew what to do with.

At the thought Harry could've sworn that he cut himself just from the tight grip that he had on his keys. The sharp sting pulling him out of his reverie.

"...sorry he's not usually like this it must of been one hell of a show...” Harry barely registers you addressing him or that he's been made out.

"Should be careful with that, didn't one of his band mates struggle with his hearing due to the high pitched little girls?" Noah adds and Harry's nerves are immediately irked.

"Noah, didn't know yeh were stopping by would've made proper arrangements if I had," Harry greets lacking any and all enthusiasm. Imagining barricading all the doors and windows just so he'd think no one was home and leave for good.

"Hopefully I'm not intruding. Work had me really swamped and I just thought I'd pull my head out of my ass for a moment to properly congratulate my friend. She works so hard, the least I could do is show my face,"

That stupid fucking face... Harry thought.

"Noe, you've already sent flowers and all that you don't have to explain anything to me I totally get it," you gently reassure and Harry finds himself aggressively rolling his eyes. The difference in your reaction is baffling to him.

"Of course I do." Noah's gaze narrows, but as he takes a sip he seems to remember something. "Mmm, I know it's not much, but I did bring some gifts. For the new office.." Placing his glass down he reaches towards the ground and retrieves a gift bag for you.

You open it absolutely giddy, "Oh my God Noe, this is so cute thank you!" You smile genuinely grateful for the personalized mouse pad; a picture of you two from graduation, a day that had truly changed everything for you both. Then a few inspirational plaques and framed art pieces to hang up.

Meanwhile Harry feels extremely out of place in his own home watching your face light up like fireworks on New Years. He also doesn't miss the smug side eye Noah gives. "I've got one just like it in my office too,"

When a smile to match graces Noah's face, Harry's hand begins to sting again. Fucking creep!

To his ultimate annoyance Noah isn't finished yet. Reaching in his pocket and revealing a black box too, "And...this is for the anniversary party, I know you'll find something perfect to go with it,"

Your eyes widen three times their size at the sight of from what Harry can see is expensive jewelry, "Noe this is, I- I can't accept this,"

"I'll be genuinely offended if you don't," he smiles openly smug this time, sitting back and swirling the wine in his glass. "I've had it revamped but it was my grandmother's. I promised her on her death bed that I would give it to someone special,"

Harry isn't suprised when you coo and thank him a little too much for his liking. But Noah's pretentious show almost made him miss the important part of what he just said. Slowly he puts two and two together, "Anniversary party? Your parent's?"

"Yeah it's this weekend, Noah's my date," You reply disinterested, eyes still glued to the gorgeous necklace Noah brought.

Harry isn't so sure where to begin with that information, but the lack of said information is a start. "I see, and where was my invitation?"

At his tone your gaze meets his and it's peeved to put it mildly. He had no such place but for the sake of your guest you play it cool, "I know you've got work to focus on so I thought I'd skip bothering you. Plus my parents love Noah,"

"It's probably for the best man, I can't imagine that you'd enjoy walking into the lion's den," Noah for some reason finds it appropriate to add teasingly.

Harry struggles to restrain his offense, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's be honest, Y/N's family doesn't live under rocks. They're not very happy with you," Noah grimaces with a condescending shrug and sip of wine.

Harry is easily baited and enraged by his gall, "And how the hell would you know mate?"

Knowing that it normally takes quite a bit for Harry to get worked up, nonetheless to the extent of fighting, makes this situation all the more alarming. Noah hardly uttered two sentences and Harry was unnecessarily on edge. You literally step in before further escalation. Leaving your spot on the couch to somewhat drag Harry out of the room by the hand, "I don't know what the hell your problem is, but you need to relax."

"What's he even doing here?" He demands.

"What do you mean he's my best friend, why can't he visit?!" You whisper incredulous.

"Oh okay... so it's cool for yeh to do it but I can't have one bloody drink with mine without yeh making a fucking scene for the world to see? Got it." He sneers.

Harry's clearly baiting you into an arguement and you nearly fall for it until you realize that Noah would hear everything you're saying. So instead you opt out, "I'm not going there with you right now. Go take a shower or do some fucking yoga and we'll talk about it later."

At your dismissal Harry scoffs and shakes his head disappointed. Surprisingly he relents, roughly brushing past you and heading to the bedroom, "Right, whenever that is."

****

It didn't feel right to have Noah stick around after that embarrassing exchange. So you apologetically promise to reschedule and thankfully Noah didn't seem too bothered by it. Squeezing you goodbye and offering that you call if you needed anything. Which low key meant brute force for Harry.

Rooms away Harry had to actively pretend like he couldn't hear you and Noah laughing. He wanted to drain the noise out by getting in the shower but he didn't trust Noah enough.

His nerves were on a distinct edge until he heard farewells exchanged and the front door finally closed behind him. But they teeter off once you grace him with your presence because he's wildly upset. You enter stoically and sit criss crossed on the edge of the bed. Watching him flutter about stripping down and collecting things for a shower.

"So you're family doesn't like me now? That's great." He retorts flustered tugging his shirt by the hem and pulling it over his head.

Harry seems to do his best putting on this angry front, but you know better than anyone that he's really just hurt about your parents. Usually he was enamored with them and vice versa so to find out that they didn't invite him really cut deep.

With that in mind you try to cut him some slack, bracing yourself for his misdirected frustration, "They're just not happy with you, huge difference,"

Indignant he turns to glare at you, "Same difference actually and what the hell happened to yeh today?"

"He just showed up when I was on my way out, and I couldn't just leave it felt rude. Plus I hardly get to see him because of our schedules,"

Harry bit his tongue to refrain from arguing that you obviously had been in contact when Noah sent flowers. Instead choosing to focus on issues of today, "And yeh couldn't call me back?"

"Again it felt rude to interrupt him just for that. I thought I'd have more time to-"

"Just for that? Yeh don't think it was rude to leave me hanging and checking non stop for you to show up?" Harry suddenly snaps.

Which is annoying but you couldn't entirely fault him for it, since you'd been in his shoes and knew all too well exactly where he was coming from. Today's show was a huge deal and you missed it, point blank. So you honestly admit, "Yes I do think it's rude given I know exactly how that feels, but I didn't do it on purpose. Sorry," You're met with silence as he simply shakes his head and turns his back to you, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Pure curiosity makes you push the envelope, "I guess it's a bad idea to ask how it went?"

He scoffs pushing them down his legs, "When I feel let down and disappointed, yeah."

This conversation was going nowhere and fast, "Okay then... Never mind." You give up and head towards the door.

But he apparently isn't finished, "Were yeh even gonna tell me about your parents anniversary party?"

"Yes," you confess, crossing your arms and lean against the doorframe.

Gruntled disbelief consumes his features as he tosses his worn clothes into the hamper, "Really? Cos' yeh already made plans with Noah without consulting me,"

"I only did it for you! They're upset Harry, do you really want to be on the opposing end of cold shoulders and side eyes? Not just by them, but by my aunts and uncles and cousins too!"

"Can't believe yeh told them in the first place," he mutters not so under his breath wandering into the closet not really knowing what he was looking for.

His blame game was beginning to piss you off now, "Did you forget that they were there with me? I didn't have to say anything, and they read blogs and comments like everyone else. What did you expect?"

On that note, in true stubborn Harry fashion he avoids addressing the problem anymore and in the process jumps the gun, "It's fine— it's fine, I'll fix it. I'll just get them a really great gift for the party and-"

"You shouldn't go, it's not a good idea," you quickly protest. Knowing how fast the party would become a shit show specifically on his behalf.

Though of course he's not thinking that way. Wholly offended he concludes, "I shouldn't go or yeh don't want me to?"

"Both," You admit and it makes Harry immediately see red.

"Why? Cos' yeh rather show off Noah and how great he's always been to yeh?" He seethes.

"No, because if you go it's just gonna draw unnecessary attention and I really don't want to deal with that," You argue.

”So how am I supposed to fix it then?" He deadpans in a tone so cynical you're not quite sure if his question is rhetorical.

"I don't know, just send the gift with me and I'll-"

For some reason your solution sets him off, "Do yeh not realize how incredibly insincere that is? I'm not some bloody coward that can't own up to mistakes and needs yeh to fight my battles for me!" He shouts.

Forcing you to yell back, "I know that! But there's a time and place for everything and their party isn't it. If anything it's better to just start with a peace offering,"

He rolls his eyes and suddenly deems it appropriate to remove his boxers and throw them in the hamper as well, "Didn't know we're at fucking war,"

"Well they're my family they care a lot," You sigh averting your gaze defeatedly, feeling an all too familiar dismissal coming on. After all, how long was he going to stand around naked? But just before you grant him some privacy and leave you decide to beat him to the punch.

"You should be worried if they didn't."

****

Secluded a little less than an hour later in the guest room, Harry knocks on the door. Peering in hesitantly once you call for him to come in. You're in the middle of coordinating your outfit for work tomorrow so you don't initially catch his newly calm mood.

Only offering a rather cold and distracted, "What do you want?"

Harry lingers in the doorway not really sure what to do with himself, "Em... To say goodnight... and apologize,"

Your expression is nothing short of skeptical when you inevitably turn to look at him, "For what?"

Harry's terrible posture deflates even more after releasing a forlorn sigh, "For being a shit person,"

"I'm listening," You goad unsatisfied with just that.

Harry anxiously scratches his temple, "S'not an excuse but I guess my feelings were hurt. One thing after another and it just felt like it was all on purpose. And well... I did what I did and said what I said,”

He was right there wasn't an excuse, but you could respect his honesty. So you grant him permission to sit on the unoccupied side of the bed and reward him with some of your own, "Even if I wanted to get back at you it wouldn't be like this. I know how much you love my parents and how much Noah bothers you— for whatever reason. If I was just going to play games of who could hurt who more, I wouldn't even be here,"

Relieved to hear that, Harry feels safe enough to indulge more of where he was coming from, "I know, I just... I don't know he's got the muscles, the company, and he's got that cool macho beard and mustache thing going on. Yeh always call mine a crustashe!" You laugh at that but do genuinely appreciate the candid insight.

For his comfort you sit beside him, "Because I prefer you fresh faced, I like that you're adorable and wholesome looking!"

Harry smiles and his dimples pop but it still doesn't quite meet his eyes, "He's already done things for yeh that I never did,"

"Like what?" You drill curious.

"Getting yeh cool stuff to decorate you're office...and I haven't even seen it," he gestures sullenly toward the paintings leaning against the wall.

Now he was being ridiculous, "Harry it's literally just a room with a desk and computer. And it's stuff I can easily buy myself,"

Still he sulks, and eventually you realize that this is meant to be more of an overdue explanation rather than a episode of debunking his worst fears. So you let him continue.

"I never told yeh, how proud I am. Yeh were hurting and I should've said it then, cos' it was the least I could've done. But I was so set on waiting for that perfect moment and wanting it to feel organic, but then everything happened and I thought it might come off like I was obligated to. So I thought it would be better if I didn't say anything at all, and it was the complete opposite,"

You couldn't begin to describe how much this clarification meant to you. For so long it's all you wanted. Why couldn't he just say that?

"Well what's stopping you now?" Optimistic you nudge his shoulder with your own, "I thought we established a long time ago simplicity goes a long way,”

For the first time since he entered this room he looks you properly in the eye. He almost looks scared. Biting down on his bottom lip he carefully reaches for your hands, in which you allow him to hold firmly. He takes a deep breath before speaking, "Y/N, I am deeply honored to have someone like you to be a reflection of me out there. I love your ambitious, go getter, never say quit attitude, and I couldn't ask for a better inspiration that makes me want to be the best I've ever been everyday,"

Flattered your eyebrows raise to nearly meet your hairline, "Wow... Yeah if you had said that then it would have probably saved us some trouble down the road. Definitely didn't enjoy having an existential crisis thinking you were ashamed of me."

"What?" His face drops in unfiltered horror, "Love no I- .. I'm such a dipshit! I'm so sorry!"

Looking back now after getting his side of it you can't help but feel like you overreacted. It was honestly embarrassing, but knowing that there is no way to change the past you shrug halfheartedly, "I mean better late than never though,"

Harry looks at you as if you have three heads and shakes his, "Please stop being so forgiving, you're making me angry at myself all over again,"

You squeeze his hands this time, "Well don't be, I don't want to be angry with you anymore. You already apologized for it we're supposed to move on,"

Not so easily swayed Harry pulls his own hands free. In fact he feels so completely undeserving to even be in your presence he stands from the bed. "Yeah but your feelings are real, they matter and I was a proper cunt. I see why yeh wanted to leave,"

You were glad that he was finally seeing things from a different perspective but you didn't want him to beat himself up either. Harry didn't have to invite you to his show but he did; and he didn't have to come in here and explain himself but he did and the effort was greatly appreciated.

"You're getting better," you reassure.

Harry sighs unconvinced, "I need to be," Hating that he wasted enough of your time as it was, he decides to call it night. Obviously you had better things to do than deal with his shit, "G'night, I love you,"

Even though you're confused by his sudden departure you don't stop him, "Night, I love you too," assuming that maybe he just really needed some time to think for himself. You just hoped that he wouldn't over do it.

Before he closes the door behind himself you call, "Hey! Don't stress about my parents either, they'll come around eventually. Especially if you get them a good gift that we both can cosign,”

He scoffs at the unattainable idea, "Yeah but what?"

You shrug whimsically, glad to give him something productive to think about. Also hoping that a vote of confidence would go a long way, "I don't know, I'm sure you'll think of something."

****

For once you didn't mind that work kept both you and Harry occupied. While he was away out of town you hoped that the distraction would level him out and bring him to his senses.

It wasn't lost on you how irrational he'd get whenever Noah came around. Harry was undeniably jealous and it was cute until it wasn't.

While you appreciated the more frequent phone calls and the sincere declarations of love at the end of them. You detested that they mostly happened to be when you were out and about with Noah. During shared lunches and dinners over plans of the anniversary party. Even the initial improvement of thoughtful 'just checking in' face time calls gradually became interrogations of your whereabouts to see if Noah was around. At it's worst when he found out you started working out together.

Nope take that back!

The absolute worst was when he called you in the middle of a Netflix marathon, cozy and clad in pajamas together on the couch. Harry had a full out meltdown threatening to come home in that instant. It was too much.

Noah definitely is a catch. Funny, smart, and so beautifully made it's annoying. But he wasn't what you wanted, nonetheless your type. He was like a brother to you. It was astounding that the person that actually knew you the best didn't realize that.

On the other hand, you mentally took note of the mirror effect. With Noah around Harry strangely didn't have time for Kendall. As a byproduct, partying and drinking had also fallen completely off the agenda. Although you figured that might also have something to do with his touring regimen, it was definitely an improvement either way.

Ultimately though, today couldn't have come fast enough. You yourself for the most part had been dodging family criticism and now it was time to face the music.

Noah, ever the strategist, made sure you arrived at the perfect time. Not too early, not too late, but just the right time where greetings were already issued and the festivities were beginning so everyone would be too distracted to notice your presence.

Though when they did Noah was sweet enough to avert the subject, keeping it totally at a surface level. That is until you run into the countriest auntie of all time. Also the worst gossip in the entire family. Clearly there was no courtyard big enough for her not to find you like a heat seeking missile.

"Noah honey, I didn't think we'd be seeing you again! Especially after that rock star hmm," You get playfully elbowed and can't help rolling your eyes, "Oh Y/N baby, don't be embarrassed it happens to the best of us! Mine was a marine that couldn't keep it in his pants to save his life! Shame ya didn't at least make it to the prenuptial though. His alimony would've changed your life," She fans herself at the thought utterly oblivious to her lack of tact, "But you and Noah have always been two peas in a pod so no love lost. Y'all belong together anyway!" She smiles knowingly.

Just when you think she's done pushing boundaries she opens her mouth again with a cunning look in her eyes, "Speaking of, Noah.. Times a ticking! When are you gone' make a honest little lady out of our Y/N?"

You look to Noah with stunned wide eyes, unconditionally embarrassed that he was being put through the wringer like this. You silently mouth, "I'm so sorry!"

And yet he simply chuckles sharing one of his charming butterfly conjuring smiles with her before focusing on you, "Whenever she's ready,"

Your aunty awes and coos while you stare at him amazed, he played it so cool sometimes it made you wonder...

****

As the sun went down everyone was gathered at tables to view a slideshow of memories on a projector screen. But just before playing it your parents decide to open their gifts.

Obviously you go first, unveiling an antique wind chime and matching custom pottery vases for future garden parties. In which they love since they were expanding their yard. As a matter of fact they talked your ear off about nothing but gardening whenever you spoke most of the time. So your gifts are perfect.

Noah goes next since he's your guest and reveals two all expense paid cruise line tickets to Hawaii and front row complete season passes to see the Golden State Warriors. When your dad can't pick his jaw up off the table, your mom actually jumps out of her seat to hug him, making everyone laugh. "I don't care what anyone says, you're my son in law!"

Your laughter immediately stops though. You understand that she is excited but that was taken entirely too far and way out of line. Comments like that weren't fair to any one of you.

For the first time ever you began to regret bringing Noah. It was weird, and it honestly wasn't his fault. Since you never really corrected anyone about your current status. But once the feeling of betrayal set in so did the guilt and it really didn't feel right being here without Harry.

You end up standing to excuse yourself for the evening but loud commotion in the distance halts you in place. It sounds like construction, and grows louder and louder as a side entrance to the courtyard is opened by staff members and in comes an entire forklift truck.

"Um, excuse me! What is going on here?" Your mom bristles completely appalled at their timing considering they haven't even got to the slideshow yet.

The driver proceeds take what looks like another massive table to the platform beside the actual projector and effortlessly lowers it to the ground. By then your father gets up for your mother's sake, trying to get his attention but to no avail. He drives off and everyone is left utterly confused.

"I'll go see what's happening," Noah reassures you standing up too.

But before he can leave the table an all too familiar voice calls out, "Sorry I'm late, I couldn't wrap this one but I just had to bring it along!"

Harry's here dressed in a nice suit and he's not alone.

"Oh... my God," you gasp.

Strolling in behind him were a couple of the venue staff members with items in hand. Though more importantly stood right beside him is none other than Elton freaking John! In a signature over the top flashy suit you couldn't begin to describe. He makes his way over to what the forklift driver dropped off, to reveal a grand piano from under a thick white cloth. The staff were evidently there to set up the microphone and speakers.

Harry continues speaking gaining everyone's attention again, "A little birdy once told me, that a pair of teenagers met at a skating rink in 1974, and when they heard a certain song they fell in love and have been ever since. Fast forward 47 years later and that song still creates the same magic on this day every year. Magic that I think we all hope to have," he announces and for a moment his eyes hold yours full of intensity. "Hopefully that magic makes today even more special. Ladies and gentlemen I give you Elton John and this is Bennie and the Jets!" Harry bows out with exaggerated extended arms excusing himself.

Your parents are still stood there frozen in shock until the opening keys are played and everyone else starts clapping along to help with the beat. Eventually your dad takes the lead and they fall into the rhythm, swaying to the music while everyone gathers round to watch.

At the sight of your parents on the make shift dance floor, the smile on your face was not only outright painful from doing it so hard but watery too. You couldn't believe that he did this— that he remembered! You told him that story once while you were drunk off your ass, when you first started dating.

It's almost funny because you've always wanted a cheesy but kind of romantic Rom-Com moment and now you finally got one and it's absolutely surreal.

Harry playfully clears his throat somehow suddenly behind you, and he's got a mischievous gleam in his eyes, "Not to ruin the moment but can I have this dance?"

An emotional mess, you nod and allow him to lead you to the area where everyone is dancing now. Relief also swarms you when as you pass through the crowd of family members, Harry is celebrated in pats on the shoulder and appproving nods. Surprisingly started by your obnoxious auntie.

It could be the other gazes on you or maybe just Harry's, but your stomach is pumped to the max with giddy butterflies. This is all you ever wanted, Harry with you and all in during the important moments.

Once he pulls you in close you never want him to let go.

****

By the end of the night everyone is tired out from dancing and all too happy to say their goodbyes.

The time spent today socializing is more than enough to last you a lifetime. Now you were content to squeeze back into your little bubble of life. Harry has a private heart to heart conversation with your parents while you collect your things.

Back at the table you jolt at the reminder of Noah. Who completely slipped your mind once Harry swept you off your feet so unexpectedly.

Since he did drive you here it was only fair to let him know you'd be going home with Harry instead. Though when you find him at a table with some boisterous uncles, sitting down with his head resting on the table, he's drunk beyond all recognition.

In all good conscience you couldn't leave him like this, he certainly wouldn't leave you.

"Noe, you wanna crash at mine so you can sleep this off?" In response he mumbles something unintelligible and so you just take it as a yes anyway.

To your dismay, Harry wasn't too happy about it when he recieved the news. Complaining the whole time you both struggled to load Noah into his back seat. Mostly worried that Noah was going to puke in the car on the way there. But thankfully there was no such case.

When arriving home and with one arm draped over your shoulder, you heave Noah's drunken dead weight into the guest room. Which meant for the first time in weeks you would have to sleep with Harry.

Noah groans as you roll him onto his back on the bed. Making sure that he was centered enough so that he wouldn't fall off. "Don' leave me,"

"I'm not going anywhere I'll just be in the other room okay?" you promise, thoroughly amused. Noah wasn't one to let himself get this sloppy since college.

"S'not what I mean..." He swallows hard, barely able to peek through his heavily lidded eyes.

Simultaneously scared that he might throw up and of what he might say next, you get up and close the door quickly. Definitely not needing Harry as an audience if he said something wild.

He seems to understand and waits until you come back to speak, "I meant what I said before. If this doesn't work out for you I will always be here. You know that right? Single, taken, abducted by aliens, or whatever you just say the word,"

You exhale heavily through your nose hoping that's just the liquor talking, "Trust me, if this doesn't work out I'll be knocking your door down," you tease laughing but he doesn't. Instead his glossy eyes seem to search yours for something that just isn't quite there.

It's uncomfortably quiet for a minute too long so you decide to just leave. Noah's adorable droopy eyes follow you all the way to the door before he speaks again. A hoarse but sincere, "I love you Y/N,” leaving his lips.

Frozen in place you say the only thing that felt right in that moment, ”I know. Goodnight."

After leaving his room your nerves came out to play and it honestly had nothing to do with what just happened. But more so at the fact that you and Harry would be sharing a bed.

The lights were still on when you entered the room and Harry was topless already in bed. Sitting up against against the headboard patiently waiting for you.

"Alright?" He asks with a quirked brow. Gaze following you around concerned as you undress, switching into a tank top and shorts.

"I think so," you honestly reply finally removing your gifted necklace and placing it on your nightstand before slowly climbing in bed.

His warmth underneath the blankets naturally made you gravitate towards him. Thus why you started sleeping in the guest room in the first place. When you turned to lay on your side Harry didn't miss a beat sliding in behind you into your preferred big spoon position.

You could feel it as Harry took a deep relieved breath, "I'm so glad that I didn't listen to yeh,"

Amused you snort, "Me too," and snuggle into him more, "Talk about an ace in the hole... I'm pretty sure my parents love you more than me now,"

"No arguements here," Harry teases but also gives a loving squeeze, "Doesn't matter though, I'm gonna love yeh more anyway," He promises, pressing his soft lips to the exposed skin on the back of your shoulder sending chills down your spine. The contact easily making your pulse race so fast you swear you could hear it. And without any signs of protest Harry continues to press one after another and another...

He's far too amped and too aware to sleep right now and honestly so are you.

Harry's at peace with just having you in his arms again but that doesn't stop him from wanting more. Before you know it you are twisted around to face him and his lips are desperately searching for yours.

God you missed this!

The intensity makes your stomach drop off an endless cliff and your skin singes at every point of contact. Your bare thigh hinged on his hip, his hand grasping fervently at your back to get you closer, all the while your hands tangle in his hair not feeling close enough either. You don't even separate to breathe.

It's not long before that yearning and urgency of desire takes control.

Your kisses growing more heated, when his tongue coerces yours into a sweet dance you knew all too well. Unabashedly ravenous you roll onto your back and pull him on top of you. Craving to be stupendously enraptured by him.

Harry has never needed you more than in this moment and yet something in his subconscious will not let him enjoy this. Perhaps the small voice in the back of his mind worried that this was only temporary. Afraid that you would go back to basically being roommates instead of lovers.

The more he thought about it, the more he couldn't bear it.

So risking it all he parts from you, hovering just enough to see you properly. Almost in reflex you reach out to continue where you left off but he stubbornly resists. He needed to know where you stood. Breathless he asks, "Can we just.. start over?"

Confused you pant out, "What?"

He sighs laying it all out on the table, "I mean like really start over, I'm tired of being at odds with yeh. I miss yeh, I love yeh and I just want to make up already,"

Despite his horribly timed interruption you can't help but laugh. This entire time you thought you already had. But you do appreciate his push for verbal confirmation and decide to rib him a bit, "Maybe,"

Unfortunately his expression is hopelessy incredulous not catching on to your joke, "Maybe? What's stopping yeh? Tell me exactly what I have to do to-" you lean up and interrupt him with a languid kiss.

Your teeth tug playfully at his bottom lip until it snaps back into place and your restless hands delve into his boxers, grabbing on and squeezing him tight enough to make him shudder from head to toe, "I'd rather show you."

If it weren't for the painful strain in his arms from holding himself up during that. Harry would've sworn that he was dreaming.

****

Harry had an axe to grind and he wanted everyone in the vicinity to know it. How loud you both were last night and early this morning did just the job. Putting him in greatest of moods because all finally felt right in the world. Like a demon had been exorcised. Although in reality the actual demon was knocked out on top of him. Drooling like a grizzly while still maintaining the appearance of an angel.

Once stealthily peeling you off, he quietly went to the kitchen to get a headstart on breakfast in a daze. Reflecting on his favorite moments.

Sex and making love with you was one thing but make up sex blew everything out of the water. It just hit different.

The passion was on another level entirely, God the scratching, biting, squeezing, screaming and down right rabid carnal—

"Fuck!"

"Holy shit!"

Both Harry and Noah startle at the unexpected sight of each other in the hall. Harry rubs his chest to soothe the coronary he almost had, and Noah drops his hand mid turn of the front door doorknob suddenly hesitant in making his hasty exit.

Harry couldn't be happier to see him leave, sublty flauting his semi nudity. He smirks proudly, "Not staying for breakfast?"

"Uhh no, I've got to get back to work," Noah replies sheepishly, scratching the back of his his neck clearly uncomfortable.

It takes everything for Harry to resist the urge to gloat and he shamelessly fails, "Are yeh sure? Yeh look exhausted mate, did-.... did we keep you up last night?" Harry feigns embarrassment though internally he's pointing and laughing like a spiteful child, "I'm so sorry mate, it was the built up tension and frustration and just finally touching base, we had to channel it into-"

The more Harry spoke the more disgusted and enraged Noah became, "You know just because you hooked up, doesn't mean this is over. You'll blow it again eventually and she'll come to her senses. And when she does, I'll be there to pick up all the pieces. We'll see who's laughing then."

Harry knew that he didn't like Noah for a reason, and as he anticipated his true colors finally came out.

But he's not at all worried. In fact, it makes Harry smile a genuine shit eating smile. Because if there's anything in this entire world that he's sure of it's your love for each other and he would die before he allowed anything or anyone come between that.

Harry replies extremely enthusiastic, "We all have shit dreams at some point mate. Did you know, I wanted to be a baker?"

At that Noah outwardly can't handle it anymore and heads out with a firm slam of the door. In which Harry locks and laughs to himself almost madly. He couldn't believe it.

****

When you woke up and looked at Harry with stars in your eyes today, Noah's revelation and all the other drama of yesterday, had practically become a thing of the past and Harry didn't mind keeping it that way.

Especially when he got to sweep his arms around you from behind and steal some neck kisses while you filled a mug with coffee. Humming along in satisfaction. His heart swelled at the sight of your engagement ring back on your finger while you stirred in your sugar.

He couldn't remember being this happy in years and he prayed that it would last in the following.

#Harry styles angst #Harry styles imagines #Harry x reader #Harry styles #one direction imagines #Harry Styles one shot #One direction one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #all me #I write I guess

[yandere-society]

Hi. Classic bestfriends to lovers au with insecure yandere!JK who changes in the beggining of the relationship? Thank you sm!

Admin/Writer- Chinkbihh 

Trigger Warnings- Yandere, Violence, Unhealthy Relationship Behavior, Mention Of Split Personality

Word Count- 6.7k

Puppy Love

“And they called it puppy love, just because we’re seventeen…tell them all, oh please tell them it isn’t fair, to take away my only dream.”

“Jungkook, if you say what I think you’re going to say… then I’m gonna have to roundhouse kick you.”  

You glared at the doe-eyed boy as the warning left your lips in a mock menacing tone.

Jungkook held his hands up in surrender and gave you his traditional wide eyed innocent look when he knew he had successfully fucked with you.  

“I’m just saying, I really think you should give deep dish pizza a second chance.”  His breathy voice pleaded.

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the assignment that you were meant to be working on.  Jungkook instead favored discussing what type of pizza to order tonight, knowing that he could push your buttons by mentioning your least favorite kinds.

“Kook, if I wanted to drink a jar of tomato sauce then I would’ve done it by now.”  You grumbled, trying to end this stupid argument before it got too out of hand. Sometimes you and Jungkook would have the biggest blowouts over the most unimportant things.  One time, you guys didn’t talk for a week because Jungkook had the audacity to bring you an onion bagel instead of your prefered rasin one.

Immature?  Yes.

But with that stupid bunny like grin that sparkled with mischievousness at every little bicker and trick he pulled, you couldn’t help but think he did it on purpose.  

So of course you fought back.  

But it never got too crazy.  

Jungkook and you were the best of friends.  

In a weird way, it was an opposites attract type of deal.  Jungkook was timid, a perfectionist and neat. On the other hand, you were outspoken, laid back and a tad messy.  Hell, you guys could’ve been your own sitcom. But it was simply just a good platonic friendship.

You were too boyish to have many girl friends.

Jungkook was a bit too shy to be part of the bro pack.  

Thus you found alliance within each other.  

That didn’t mean you didn’t have any moments of not wanting to punch him in the face.  

“Can you stop being an ass and help me with this problem?”  You moaned in misery, you had been on the same problem for ten minutes now with no solution.

Jungkook was a whiz with math meanwhile you were awful at it, like having dyslexia with numbers.  

Jungkook tilted his head and leaned over your desk, taking a good look at the problem before popping his head back up to smirk at you.  “I could…but why should I?”

You groaned and plopped your head face-first onto the desk.  You should’ve expected this, Jungkook never gave anything away for free.  You always had to bribe or blackmail him into doing anything helpful for you.  

Blackmail.

That’s it!

Acting as casual as one coul, you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear; “I guess I’ll have to ask that Namjoon kid for help.  He’s always getting straight A’s.”

1.

2.

3.

Like clockwork, Jungkook sprinted into action and snatched your paper away,

You looked up to see him with a pencil already in hand, scribbling down answers at lightning speed.

Secretly, you smirked.  

Worked like a charm.

You see, Jungkook had this weird overprotective thing with you.  It can best be described as what an older brother probably feels with a younger sister and boys.  All you had to do was threaten to hang out with a boy that wasn’t him, and Jungkook was putty in your hands.  

You must admit, you did abuse this power at times.  But you never took it too seriously.

Jungkook would never hurt anyone.  He was like a little puppy. And it wasn’t as if you had any serious intention of being with a guy, therefore it was all in good fun.  

When Jungkook was finished, he handed you back the paper.

You attrieved it, but while doing so Jungkook looked at you intensely and said; “You don’t need to run to other boys.”  

You chortled and stood up to pack your things.  “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard this lecture before. All men only think with their dicks and I can only trust you.”

“It’s true (Y/n)!  You’re not in the boy’s locker room everyday, I am.  The things they talk about are disgusting and I don’t want you to be just one of these bastards’ tale to share.”  

You rolled your eyes and motioned for him to get up as well.  

“I wouldn’t put it past them.  C’mon, we gotta go. My mom wants me home early tonight.  So if we’re going to watch that movie then we better leave now.”  

–

Jungkook and you had a deal.  

You pick the pizza while he chose the movie.  

You readily agreed, already knowing that you wouldn’t eat whatever crap he would order just to spite you.  

So there you two sat, in his dark room as the screen glowed with some stupid action movie that Jungkook had probably seen hundred times already.  

It was kinda cute really, the way Jungkook’s eyes would light up or how he would mouth ‘woah’ everytime the good guy would do a cool move while defeating the evil dude.  He was like a nine year old fanboy of some dumb superhero.

You personally didn’t care for the film, so when you felt your phone buzzing, you felt no guilt in checking whom it was.  

You pulled out the device quietly, making sure to lower the brightness to not disturb Jungkook’s viewing.  He tended to get cranky when he caught you on your phone during movies.

Briefly, you took a peek from the safety of your notifications screen.

It was a DM from one of your social media accounts.  

The sender?  

Park Jimin.  

You inwardly face palmed as that name rung a familiar bell.  

To be honest, you were surprised it took him this long to reach out to you.  

He must have run out of girls to bother.  

Park Jimin was one of school’s biggest fuckboys.  The boy had more dick pics floating around than followers.  And that was saying something. A lot of girls had fucked him, half of them were just worn down by his constant begging for some pussy.  The other half genuinely thought he was attractive and wanted to hop on that dick. You couldn’t deny it though, Jimin was indeed good looking.  To bad he had a walnut for a brain and most likely more STDS than letters in the alphabet.

You clicked on the notification to see the message.  The choice was centered on the fact that you were curious and would’ve loved a good laugh.  

‘Heyy ;)’ it read, intentions somehow loud and clear.  

You couldn’t help but giggle.  How fucking orginal was this guy?!  It was as if he had the fuckboy for dummies book right beside his phone and was using it to start this conversation.  

‘Gee never heard that one before.  Not like most guys huh?’’ You texted back.  Might as well fuck with him…

“Who are you texting?”  

Your head snapped up to see Jungkook facing you, face wiped off of any amusement and movie long forgotten, focused solely on you.  Or more importantly…the phone in your hand.

You had been caught.  

“N-no one.”  You stuttered and tried to shuffle away to shield the screen.  

Bad choice.  

Jungkook leapt for your phone and with the obvious advantage for strength, he managed to pry the phone from your hand.  He stood up to his full height and positioned the phone over his head, looking up to read the screen and ignoring your eager jumping to get the device.  

Curse his height.  

You watched with dread as Jungkook’s face grew more grim as he without a doubt took note of who reached out to you.  

He was still for a moment.  

Creepily still.

You then watched in horror as Jungkook began typing something onto your phone.  

“Jungkook what the fuck?1”  You shrieked as he sent his message and tossed your phone back to where you two had been sitting.  

“No, what the fuck Y/n?!  Park Jimin, seriously?!” He yelled, his face growing red as his inky black eyes glared at you.  

“He messaged me and I literally sent something back for fun.  You’re acting like I’m trying to be his wife or something.” You couldn’t believe how absurd he was being.  Did he genuinely think you were trying to seriously talk to such a notorious fuck boy? How could your best friend think so low of you?

“You shouldn’t be responding to boys at all, Y/n.”  he huffed this out as if it was obvious.

Your eyes widened in shock at his own audacity to say something so blatantly wrong.  He had said ‘boys’….as in all males in general and not just Jimin. Now it wasn’t like you had any intention of getting a boyfriend or something, but to know that Jungkook wouldn’t even support you being with a decent guy just because he had such a deep rooted hatred towards his fellow gender was blood boiling.

“Jungkook, you can’t tell me who I can and cannot respond to.  And newsflash; I’m going to probably have a boyfriend one day and maybe get married in the future so you better accept that or stop being friends with me!” you yelled at him.  

His face crumpled in despair and instead of looking livid like we was before, he just looked depressed as if he just received soul crushing news.  You watched in bewilderment as unshed tears began to make his orbs look more glossy as his lips morphed from a snarl to a frown as his lips wobbled.  

“You-You don’t understand, Y/n.  I can’t let you be with any other guy.”  He choked.

Jungkook wasn’t usually a sensitive guy, you rarely ever saw him cry so this sight was new territory for you.  However you also were still angry. Why was he being so unreasonable? You thought it was obvious that you were going to marry someone one day.  You also thought it was obvious that one day Jungkook would find a nice girl and marry her. You could go to each other’s weddings and give speeches…why did he suddenly act like this was the end of the world?  What did he think was going to happen? That you two were just going to live out your days watching stupid action movies and video games until one of you croaks?

“Jungkook, what��s wrong?  Of course I’m going to get a husband one day.  Just like you’ll get a lovely wife one day. Maybe we’ll meet them in college or something and go on double dates.  I would be so happy for you. Won’t….won’t you be happy for me?” You trailed off at the end, watching closely as Jungkook’s face only got more and more dejected with every word you spoke.  

Your heart dropped as he avoided your eyes and your question.

He wouldn’t be happy for you….

You rolled your eyes and rushed to get your things before going home.  

So maybe your best friend wasn’t that good of a friend after all.  How tragic. Maybe you should’ve heeded the warnings given earlier.  You should’ve known something was up with how ‘overprotective’ he was.  

You gathered your things and was about to head to the door when Jungkook panicked and began to mumble incoherently.  You attempted to tune this out and reached the door, until he exploded with something that made you freeze in your tracks.  

“I like you, okay?!  I fucking like you and I don’t want you to be with another guy that isn’t me!”  

Silence.  

All that you heard was the sounds of your pounding heartbeat and his frantic panting after he just said something that could possibly ruin your friendship.

You took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob before walking out of it.  

Only on your way home did you allow yourself to send a text to Jungkook.  

‘I hope you’re a better boyfriend than you are a best friend.  FWI if our first date is a mortal combat night I’m literally dumping you.’

–

Dating Jungkook was not much different than being best friends with him.  

Surprisingly, the banter and casual playfulness amongst you two never stopped.  

Sometimes Jungkook would try to be ‘manly’ and ‘gentlemanly’ while doing something he thought was ‘romantic’, but that would only like about 5 seconds before you both fell into a giggly mess.  You guys never took yourselves too seriously and simply enjoyed each other’s company.

However, something was a bit different  

He became a bit more…present in your life.  

One day, you were complaining to him about how you had just started the swim unit in gym.  He didn’t seem to have a problem with it (even jokingly asked if he can get bikini pics) until you mentioned that the class was co-ed and the guys liked to be jerks and do constant cannonballs  in the pool.

His face dropped so fast.  

“What?  There’s boys in there?”  He asked incredulously.

You just nodded, pretty sure everyone knew that all the gym classes in your school weren’t separated by gender.  

He then proceeded to demand that you put on some type of shirt and shorts over your bathing suit because he didn’t want anyone ‘looking at you like that’.  Whatever that meant….nonetheless you agreed just to shut him up. You thought that this would be the end of it.

Nope.  

The first day of the unit was the teacher just going through some basic pool rules before the students would hop in the next day.  You were in the middle of listening to the dumb lecture about caution in the deep end when you felt your phone buzz within your pocket.  You looked up to make sure the teacher was too engrossed to what they were saying before you pulled out your phone to see who it was.

It was Jungkook.

‘Are u in gym rn?’  

‘…..yes, why?’  

‘Send me a pic of the boys in your class.’  

‘Im sorry WHAT?’

‘I wanna see the guys in your class so I know what i’m dealing with if they see too much.’

‘Jungkook….pls reread the text you just sent and tell me you know how crackheadie you sound.’

‘I’m not playing around Y/n.  Send me pic. How am I supposed to know they’re not fuck boys?’

You briefly glanced at the other side of the room where the majority of the boys were sitting, grouped up together in some weird testosterone cluster/pack.  You scoffed after scanning their faces and almost giggled at how ludicrous Jungkook’s suspicion was.

‘Fine, see for yourself.’  you sent before you carefully took a quick snap of the boys and delivered it to him.  

You smirked as you saw Jungkook’s three little dots pop up only to disappear again, hinting that he was having trouble sending out another message.  

‘See?  It’s just soundcloud rappers and nerds.  I don’t think you have to worry ;)’ you tauntingly sent back to him.  

“Miss (L/n), please do explain why you have your phone out.”  

Your head snapped up as you stuffed the phone back into your pocket for safe-keeping.  

“Sorry Mrs. Bennett.”

–

Jungkook had you on your phone much more often too.  

He was in constant contact with you 24/7, and if you didn’t answer a text or call in time then you’d never hear the end of it.  

“I just don’t understand why it takes you forever and a day to answer a fucking snap Y/n.”  Jungkook huffed over facetime one night.

You rolled your eyes as you positioned your phone so you could comfortably get into your bed while not ruining his viewing of you.  “Kook for the last time pal, I was in the shower.”

“Still.”  He childishly pouted.   “You need to answer your phone more consistently.  How am i supposed to know if you’re alright or not if I can barely get ahold of you?”

You snorted as you nuzzled your pillow and brought your phone closer to your face.  “Jungkook, my phone literally dies like 5 times a day because of how often I’m on it with you.”  

“I hate not being with you all the time.”  He groaned. A sudden text notification popped up on your screen, you clicked on it and a reaction from Jungkook was instantaneous.  “Hey! What did I say about going on pause while we’re on facetime? If I wanted to look at a blank screen and not my beautiful girlfriend I would be doing that right now!”  He whined.

“It’s my cousin, kook.”  you blandly answered while reading over the message you just received.

“What do they want?”  he wasn’t pleased with anything that stole your attention.  World War Three could break out and he’d still want to be your main priority.  

“It’s her birthday this weekend and she wants me to go to her birthday party.”  You told him while clicking back to the facetimes screen to face his pouty expression.  

Your cousin was the same age as you but she attended another highschool and had other friends from that school.  For this reason, whenever she invited you to hang out with them you would always decline given you knew none of them.  But since it was her birthday party, you supposed you could put aside your awkwardness to celebrate with her.

“I thought we were going to that new cafe this weekend!”  he interjected, brows scrunching in frustration as he also got into his bed.  

“Jungkook I’m pretty sure our little coffee date won’t take 48 hours.”  you laughed.

His face melted into a expression of seriousness as he leaned towards the camera and stared at you with a dreamy gaze.  

“I never thought we’d end up together.”  He whispered, seemingly enchanted by your laugh with his previous frustrations forgotten.  

You blushed under the intensity of his gaze.  

It was quiet for a moment as you just let him study you with the adoration practically drowning you from across the screen.  He tended to do this often too; compley zone out and only focus on you no matter where he was or what he’s doing.

“Y/n?”  

“Yeah?”

“….you have a booger.”  

–

“Everyone is already here!  Y/n where are you?” Your cousin asked over the phone.  

You huffed and rushed apologizes through the receiver as you ransacked your closet in search of a dress to wear.  “I’m so sorry (c/n). I swear I lost track of time.”

This was a lie given that you were just at Jungkook’s house and he refused to let you leave his hold even after you pointed out that you were going to be late.  He needed his cuddles or else heads were gonna roll. His words, not yours.

“Whatever, be here as soon as possible.  My friends are stoked to meet you.” She told you before hanging up.  

You hastily tried to get ready and make yourself presentable under such a harsh time crunch.   When you were done you quickly ran out the door.

–

Jungkook hated the term ‘highschool sweetheart’.  

It was so offensive to him.  

It gave the implication that the love wasn’t serious or as valid as older people’s romances.  He hated it for it was such an umbrella term to shrug off the emotions people like Jungkook felt when he was with you- all because of his age.  But whenever he spent time with you or even just looked at you; he knew deep down that you were his soulmate. He knew that husbands who have been married to their wives for years could not hold a candle to the devotion he had for you.  

He was so relieved that you let him be your boyfriend, it was becoming so tiresome to have to play the ‘friend’ role.  He finally felt free to express his true thoughts and feelings with you due to no barrier of misunderstanding.

He was your boyfriend now.

The only man you should be with in a romantic way.  

He knew the relationship between you two was becoming more and more serious.  He could feel the intimacy grow whenever he was with you. Somehow, Jungkook found it hard to think he could ever be so vulnerable or real with anyone else.  The ‘awkward’ stage so many talked about was simply nowhere to be seen with you. You were comfortable and fit by his side like a puzzle piece. It was like you were made for him and the humorous and warm hearted banter never left because you two were just so….in sync.  

The moments he spent with you made him feel so delirious with joy that he quickly found himself experiencing withdrawals whenever he wasn’t near you.  

You were such a beautiful, smart and funny girl that he couldn’t help the paranoia that ate at him whenever you weren’t by his side.  Only a blind man wouldn’t be able to see what a angel you were. So of course he had a primal urge to keep what was his, his. He somehow just knew that when he wasn’t near you, other men were eyeing you with gazes that he should only be directing at you.  It was downright blasphemous for such things to be allowed.

The only way he could soothe his pandemonium of rushing thoughts is if he could talk to you.  So obviously he bombarded you with texts and snapchats to get his reassurance that you belonged to him.  He knew you noticed the change within him. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Yet Jungkook wasn’t embarrassed by his growing clinginess, surely if you had a problem with it then you would have voiced it by now?  But you didn’t, you seemed annoyed by it at times but it was a more fond type of annoyance as you only laughed and brushed it off. This was the only green light Jungkook needed to continue his obsessive streak.

He needed you by his side.

He finally got you by some sheer dumb luck that decided to take pity on Jungkook and gift him with the most flawless human being he’s ever encountered.  

He’d have to be a madman to let anything take you away after barely getting you himself by the skin of his teeth.  

When he wasn’t with you, he was thinking of the next time he would be with you.  

Thus here he was, pacing his bedroom while pulling on his messy raven strands and trying to ignore the sensation of his own skin smothering him.  

Only hours ago, you had been in his room; blessing it with your addicting perfume and honeyed voice as you cuddled with him.  His arms still tingled with anticipation to feel your impeccable body mold wonderfully against his once again, but he reminded himself with a cry that you were ripped away from him.  

You had to leave in order to go to your cousin’s party.  

He decided to be merciful and let you go with as little fuss as he could muster.  Your cousin was your family and even he was aware of his inability to completely take you away from them.  But now as the time passed, Jungkook was beginning to regret his decision. He should’ve just told you to send a card or something, that way he wouldn’t have to be spending his saturday night all alone in the shadow of your former presence.

He had pleaded with you to at least give updates.  You had laughed and told him that you would most likely be home early but you’d try to text him when you could.  This gave him some comfort, but it was quickly melted away when the night went on and he still had an empty inbox.

Were you hurt?

Did you forget about him?

Did you find someo-

No.

Jungkook wildly shook his head side to side and tried to end that train of thought.  He couldn’t let himself think like that. If he allowed himself to ponder the likelihood of someone else stealing you, he’d most likely punch his wall in rage.  

Maybe your phone is just low on battery?

Yeah!  That must be it.  

However a sudden ding sounded from his phone and shut down this idea.  It wasn’t a text from you, but it was a notification he had set for all of your social media account. Hastily, Jungkook rushed to the precious device to drink up whatever info he could possibly get on you.

It was your snapchat.

He clicked on the little circle that showed you recently added to you story and studied that image with great focus.  

It was  group photo of all the party guests posing for a picture while the birthday girl grinned and held up the cake in front of them.  

Jungkook’s young, black and glossy eyes skimmed through the faces with great intensity.  Until the phone in his hands began to shake.

–

The party turned out to be pretty decent, your cousin’s friends welcomed you and were overall very nice people.  You found out quickly that It was strictly a teenage party, your aunt and uncle weren’t home and one of the friends managed to bring some alcohol for the event.  Although you liked your cousin’s friends, they seemed liked they partied often which was a sentiment you could not relate to.

You declined every offer for a drink but still conversed and participated in any way that you could.  That was until your phone started ringing like crazy; demanding your attention.

You quietly excused yourself and went to the bathroom for the seclusion that couldn’t be found anywhere else in the house.  

It was Jungkook.  

You pulled the phone to your ear and quietly answered; “hey, what’s up Kook-”

“Who the fuck were those people on your story?”  He growled over the line, interrupting your greeting.

“Umm…what are you talking about?  It’s just my cousin’s friends.” You responded, confused.  

“I thought it was going to be a family type of celebration….” your boyfriend whined.

Your eyebrows shot up at that.  “Kook, I never said that.”

You heard a tired exhale as he probably realised that you indeed hadn’t lied to him.  You had hopes that he would recognized how unreasonable he was being and apologize or at least hang up but instead he said; “I want you home.  Now.”

“Tough shit bro.  You’re not my dad and there’s no reason for you to demand me to come home.”  

“Y/n, I saw the beer bottles in the pictures and I know there’s multiple guys there.  What if they take advantage of you? You look gorgeous in that dress and I’m sure at least one of them has taken notice.”  

“I’m with you, you idiot!  You can’t even trust me to attend a party on my own?!”  You shrieked, baffled by his ignorance.

“Of course I trust you but I know jack shit about those guys there and liquor almost never helps any situation!”  

“I…can’t even talk to you right now.  I haven’t had a single drink and all the guys here have been keeping their distance while still talking to me.  You’re just being a jealous jackass.” you huffed.

“Y/n don’t han-”  you clicked the ‘end’ button  and exited the bathroom.

You tried to forget the whole conversation, but it was clawing away at you even after the call.  Jungkook was usually a nice and reasonable guy, but his temper was slowly decreasing after you had agreed to be his girlfriend.  When you were with Jungkook and no one else was around, he was back to being that sweet and playful guy you have know all along. But if anyone else (particularly men) was around you?  He morphed into a paranoid asshole who’s suspicion was spared for no one. It was exhausting having to keep up with two split personalities. You never felt like you were doing the right thing unless you locked yourself away to prevent Jungkook’s possessive streak.  But you were a smart girl and obviously you were aware of how unhealthy this was. Yet you wanted to see the best in him, he wasn’t always like that and as his first girlfriend he probably didn’t know how to properly filter his emotions.

You continued to laugh and talk to the other guests but there was a constant buzzing of your phone from your pocket.  

Jungkook wasn’t giving up and he continued to send text after text.  But you were also stubborn and you refused to look at them. You didn’t want to enable his behavior any further than you already have.  Maybe this was just your first ‘fight’ as a couple but to you it was deeper than that.

The messages couldn’t be ignored for too long.  You had to check the time on your phone and the home screen was littered with texts from Jungkook.  Your eyes briefly went over them but the most recent one caused your stomach to drop.

‘If you don’t come home in the next thirty minutes, I’m telling your mom what those kids are doing at the party.’  

You bit your lip to suppress yelling at the device in anger.  

You couldn’t believe that he would blackmail you like that!  Just to get you away from the boys he deemed a ‘threat’. He would cut your night short just to satisfy his stupid little male ego.  Naturally, you wanted to tell him to fuck off and that he couldn’t control you. But, you knew that Jungkook didn’t bluff and you couldn’t risk your mother finding out what was happening around you at the party.  Plus she would most likely tell your aunt and uncle and that would be opening a whole other can of worms. With a huff you got up and began your search for your cousin, hoping she could give you a ride home.

Said family member was dancing wildly on her kitchen table, laughing loudly as her friends down below cheered her on.  You eyed this scene with a frown, knowing right away that she was far too drunk to drive safely.

How the fuck were you supposed to get home now?  

It was too late, far and dark for you to walk.  

You were screwed.  

“You good?”  

You turned around to see one of your cousin’s friends standing next to you.  You recalled getting introduced to him earlier, his name was Max and he seemed like one of the more mellow ones of the group.  You smiled at him despite being sure that he just saw you inwardly panicking. “Um, no actually. (C/n) was my ride home and something just came up so…”  

Max looked over at the dancing girl and cringed.  “Yeah, I wouldn’t want her on the road either.”

You groaned and pulled out your phone. “I guess I can just uber home.”

“Nonsense!  I can take you home.”  He offered with a grin.  

–

“I cannot thank you enough for this, Max.”  

He laughed as he pulled into your house, “It’s no problem, really.  I was also gonna leave anyway.”

It was quiet for a moment in the car as you tried to form the words to say goodbye while also confirming your gratitude.

“No seriously, you didn’t have to.  I’m forever in your debt.” You joked while opening your door to step out.  When you were fully out, you bent down to wave goodbye once more before slamming the door close to begin your jog to your front door.  

You were just a few feet from your door when you heard the sound of a car opening and a shout, “Hey, can I get your snap or something?”  

You turned around to see Max had gotten out of his car and was holding out his phone, most likely hoping you’d go back and put in your information.  

You shrugged and figured that it was the least you could do for him.  

But you halted your steps forward when you caught a flurry of movement from your peripheral.  

All you could see was a figure wearing black that had emerged from the bushes and was striding toward Max.

It was moving really fast and had jumped onto the unsuspecting man, knocking him to the ground.  

You watched in horror as a storm of fists began assaulting Max with such animalistic ferocity that you couldn’t help but scream.  

You raced forward out of instinct to help the victim.  

Max groaned and tried to put up his hands as barriers to the beating but it was no use as the attacker seemed much stronger and was already straddling him.  Soon, blood made a appearance as the attacker broke Max’s nose with more punches. It sprayed everywhere as you moved to shove the guy off.

Your desperate attempts to knock the male off Max seemed to have little effect, the man being big and sturdy while having such focus on beating this guy to near death.  

However one of your pushes managed to pull down the hood of this attacker.  

It was Jungkook.

His usual innocent and boyish face was overshadowed with a barbaric fury that was tainted with blood splatters, completely contrasting the pale complexion.  

“Jungkook?!  What the fuck are you doing?!”  You shrieked in shock.

As if broken from a trance from your voice, Jungkook snapped his head towards you.  

His eyes got wide and terrified, like a kid who was just caught doing something wrong and was awaiting a yelling.  He slowly got off Max and stood on shaky feet, holding his hands out as if you were a wild animal he was attempting to tame.  

You heard Max pathetically crawl back into his vehicle before taking off like a mad man.  

You didn’t break eye contact with Jungkook as this was happening, too paralyzed by the turn of events.  

“Y-Y/n, I can explain.”  

“YOU ATTACKED A STRANGER FOR NO REASON!”  You yelled at him, accusatory tone causing him to flinch.  

“What were you doing with him anyway?!”  He growled back, defensive tone entering his voice as he stood straighter; like he just remembered that he too was mad.  

“I needed a ride home!”  You cried.

“With a guy?!  What the fuck Y/n?!  Don’t be naive. I know how men think.”  He threw his hands up in disbelief. “He even asked for your snap and you almost gave it to him!”  

“Jungkook, he was the only one at the party who wasn’t drunk who could safely take me home.”  You explained before pointing a finger at him in prejudice. “And I wouldn’t have had to rush home if you didn’t demand I come back within 30 minutes or else you were going to snitch!”  

You were about to turn around and march right into your home when another thought dawned on you.  “And why the fuck were you in my bushes?!”

Jungkook opened his mouth to explain, before quickly snapping it shut in realization that he had no good explanation for why he was there.  You felt the color drain from your face as a horrible conclusion formed without the need of words.

Jungkook once was a sweet guy, like an older brother that was a little dorky but protective nonetheless.  The very worse he would ever do was huff and puff when he saw you doing something he didn’t approve of. But it was almost as if becoming his girlfriend was a triggering point for his sanity.  Never did you think you would see Kook attack someone without being provoked, you never thought you would have to witness him dent someone’s face in and stain his in return with blood. He would always look down on those meatheads who would brawl in the hallways at your school over the dumbest shit, but now he was (if not even more) violent and childish than those jocks.  It was terrifying to feel like you had known someone for so long, only for them to turn around and shed their pleasant persona as if it was a second skin and the true core of them was much darker than you ever thought possible.

You teared up and stared at those bottomless chocolate orbs that always held a film of fondness over them when they focused on you and only you.  

“Kook….”  Your trailed up as a lump started to raise in your throat, begging you not to say what you were going to.  “….We need to break up. I don’t know who are right now or why you changed but….you fucking terrify me. I-I can’t.  Please, don’t contact me again.”

His face crumpled within itself.  

Your hurriedly turned around and booked it to your front door, ignoring the tortured cries of your name and luke-warm apologies that escaped his scorched throat as he hollered like a mad man on your front lawn.  

–

Rest was hard to acquire after such a dramatic night.  

It took lots of crying into your pillow and listening to sad songs but eventually you managed to doze off.  You awoken the next morning with a blotchy face and swollen eyes, your night of sleep did little to rejuvenate.  

It took you a little longer than usual to hurl your dense body over your bed, but you did so as your bladder was screaming for relief and your stomach was loud with hunger.  After the first need was taken care of, you began your journey downstairs in search of food.

Luckily, the smell of pancakes and coffee was drifting in the air.  You noted with a grin that your mother must’ve decided to take the time to make a hearty breakfast, something that was reserved for weekend mornings.  But your quest to the kitchen halted when you saw who was helping your mom with the cooking.

“Oh looks who’s up, sleepy head!”  Your mom glowed after spotting you in the entrance.  “Your boyfriend decided to stop by and make breakfast with us.”

Indeed, Jungkook stood by your mom and was dutifully mixing the pancake batter as she flipped the ones on the stove.  He was wearing a white sweater, his hair neatly put together and his face as doughy white and innocent as his bunny grin that was slapped on.  

He was putting on a show.

He hummed with that musical and breathy voice of his as he whisked away the batter.  

Your mother noticed your strange silence and awkward stance.  She giggled and motioned for Jungkook to keep an eye on the cooking pancakes before she guided you over to the table and gave you your usual cup of coffee.  “What’s that look for? Jungkook told me that you two recently became more than friends. Don’t be mad! He’s just a very honest boy who wanted my approval.”  

You heard weighted footsteps as Jungkook approached you both to hand you a plate of food.  He pretended to be sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry babe, I just wanted to tell your mom so she could understand why I’ll be coming over more often.”  

“Frankly it’s about time you guys realized your feelings for each other!  I always knew something was up.” Your mom chided playfully while heading back to tend to the food.  Jungkook took his cue to sit beside you, wrapping a sturdy arm around you as he nuzzled your neck. “Also, we need to talk prom.”

“P-prom?!”  You spluttered, finally able to make a noise of any kind.  

“Of course, Jungkook and I were just talking about it before you came downstairs.  I said you looked lovely in blue but he said he adored green on you.”

Jungkook’s arm tightened around you as he propped his chin on your shoulder to grin up at you, voice sugary but eyes serious as he said; “No worries, honey.  Your mom said she’d help us dress shop today.”

Jungkook was a puppy when needed.  

But a feral dog when no one else was around.  

Later your mother muttered how she noticed there seemed to be some blood stains on her lawn and she sure hoped that no one got hurt last night.  

Jungkook just laughed and glanced at you with an odd gleam in his eyes as if it was some sort of inside joke.  

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t have to happen again.”  

#yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere bts #jeon jungguk #jungkook #jeon jungkook #yandere bts fanfiction #yandere bts fic #yandere #yandere kpop #yandere kpop fanfic #horror #my writing #love #obsession #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin #scary #admin chinkbihh

[gedwimora]

Something that bothers me a lot is that in their fervor to reject / put down sa.ns.an there are a lot of people who try and twist their entire relationship / dynamic in one that’s wholly negative, to depict Sandor as a predator or abuser or something when he’s just. Not. That’s just not the dynamic here at all.

I don’t wanna get to deeply into “ do i ship sa.ns.an / think sa.ns.an is good / etc etc ” I’ve varied on it over the years but generally my stance is that romance / love is an important element of Sansa’s arc / story as it’s part of the “ songs ” theme / narrative structure and so naturally I want her to end up in a relationship where she feels loved, protected and safe. Currently the seen / known / existing options for “ men who aren’t trash or related to her ” to marry her is like..... 3 guys and only 1 has she’s actually met which is Sandor. Assuming she’s an adult and in a good place to make these kinda choices and she picks him Great, have at it, if she meets Trystane or some other good boi™ who’s more her age and they hit it off even better. Mainly I just want her to be happy and for Sandor I just want him to be at peace, whatever form that takes, even if does mean he dies. 

My issue is really just that there are people who are so intent on ignoring the romantic elements of the ship that they blatantly rewrite the canon and misconstrue shit. I’ve seen people argue that the Unkiss ( a memory Sansa fabricated of Sandor kissing her during the BotBW scene, he didn’t he mostly menaced and cried tbh ) and her quasi-sex dream about him ( She dreams about her wedding night with Tyrion ( it’s own Yikes tbh ) but the Hound replaces Tyrion, she shows no indication of being upset about it compared to other nightmares she’s had canonically )  are coping mechanisms to deal with Sandor related / caused trauma which is just fucking BONKERS. They are, if anything, Sansa using Sandor as a vehicle for coping with other traumas. 

I think sometimes these people forget that for a WHILE there Sandor was the only person who was consistently on her side without ulterior motive and at times to his own potential determent. He’s not a good or nice man by any stretch but he genuinely cares about her and tries to look out for her. Sansa says it herself “ he was no true knight but he saved me all the same ” , he admits to her his grimdark origin story and she comforts him, then roots for him in the tourney. She understands why he’s so shitty but also calls him out on it when he’s being needlessly cruel to her. He protects her from beatings, rape and who knows what else as best he can, I mean shit if he was not her self-appointed bodyguard the mob attack scene would’ve been very different as he’s literally the only one who noticed she was gone before it was too late because he you know, gave a fucking shit about her safety and was actively looking out for her  in a dangerous setting.

I understand disliking it as a romantic ship and I don’t have beef with that, like I’m not always super hot on it as a romantic ship myself ? But I think it’s just willfully bad reading comprehension and douchery to try and make it like they’re not important to each other or that there’s not a romantic / sexual undertone. Before I get fucking shot for the last bit, the thing I think people miss on that part is that it doesn’t mean it MUST be acted upon or that it’s like a very serious thing ? Sandor does make crude comments about her and have some level of attraction to her, he’s also a crude dude in general and trying to shock her a lot of the time and purposely doesn’t act on his attraction when given the chance, even when out of his fucking gourd drunk and triggered to hell and back. He very clearly cares about her and while sure she’s pretty and he has eyes it’s much more emotional for him, she’s Kind and Good and Understanding towards him and he desperately craves that.

And with her side of it you can easily pin her fabricating the Unkiss, comparing the kisses of other men to that fake one with him, comparing men to him, her sexual/romantic fantasies now starring him instead of Loras as just part of both protecting herself from things that hurt ( her kiss w/ Tyrion at her forced wedding isn’t really her first that was Sandor! etc etc ) and her using him to explore her own sexuality safely. Loras is very boy band-y and Safe because there’s so clearly never gonna be anything there which makes him great crush material but given everything in her life so far, boy band isn’t really what it’s cracked up to be anymore. Whereas Sandor has proven in her actual life her safety is paramount to him, he’s been her faithful friend and protector as much as he could be. Sansa is a big fan of songs and a lot of his actions fit nicely into that narrative / aesthetic, saving her from the crowd, giving her his cloak to protect her modesty, offering to whisk her away from KL and he won’t hurt her. At that point in her life a man who’s built like a brick house, could snap a dude over his knee but is intensely protective and gentle towards her is honestly more appealing than being just a hottie. The concept of Sandor makes her feel Safe, she uses him, his attitude and his advice as a guide for how to navigate situations later on. Big shock that when she turns to explore her own sexuality and all that she uses Sandor as the tool to do it. Because he’s Safe. He’s not there, he can’t physically interact with her or act on anything related to these fantasies, he’s given her plenty of fodder and she can put anything “ mature “ or “ experienced “ on him to fulfill and enjoy exploring without feeling anxious about not knowing what she’s doing, she can just be like “ well Sandor would know how “ . It’s very much like if she was having the same thoughts about Theon, she knows him, he’s safe, and he’s not around to make this incredibly embarrassing. And you can literally leave that undertone at that and proceed forward figuring that, like with Loras, she’ll grow out of it with Sandor and move on to someone else, maybe whoever she’s in a healthy romantic relationship with. And that’s fine. Frankly I’m very good with her using Sandor for this considering she’s going to be engaged to a douche and Baelish is getting all Uncle Bad Touch, let her have her Sandor flavored escapist fantasies. And if you genuinely think he would for real touch her while she’s underage then I just need yall to get out Forever thanks.

If Sansa was really so traumatized by him from the BotBW or didn’t like him at all bc he’s a shitty and menacing professional killer who harassed her she wouldn’t have fabricated the unkiss, wouldn’t have kept his cloak, would not have compared other men to him with him being the positive example or compared sweet robin’s kiss to the unkiss again with Sandor in the positive. I don’t think these things inherently mean ~Romance~ I think they mean Sansa using Sandor to fill in a LOT of spaces in her life where she needs someone like a protector, a confident, a lover etc etc because he’s one of the few people who can fit them who she likes / trusts and isn’t fuckin’ dead. We don’t see much from his end since she’s a POV and he’s not hence why I’m speaking mainly about Sansa but it’s important to remember with him that she’s the best person in his life. She’s Special, he offers to save her from KL for a reason, because she’s good and kind and he wants tot help her. Sansa is the catalyst for his own self improvement just because she’s Nice, she quite literally pet this fucking dog and now he’d fucking die for her. That doesn’t have to be romantic so don’t fucking delete it just because you don’t like the romantic shippers. Don’t turn basic human compassion in to a sexual act. 

#this has been on my mind for a While and i figured i should probably put it out there finally #headcanon / sandor clegane. #rape mention cw #abuse tw #rape mention tw #longer than i'd planned but still not as in depth as it could have been to fully expand on my thoughts on this #but for one thing i got light headed while writing it so sfgsfdjkghdfksl so uuuhhhh couldn't even full on see/comprehend what i was writing #but the tl;dr is just 'don't ignore that they're a positive influence on each other just bc u don't like the romantic shippers' #fkgjhsfd i actually nearly did black out and rant for once pfft #weNT BACK IN AND CUT BC JFC YEAH THIS IS LONG SJKLGHJLFSDK

[hellyeahheroes]

Ghost Spider problems

Disclaimer: the comic is not bad. Take this as constructive criticism

1. Start from the beginning

This is all you get when it comes to Gwen’s origin.

And before you say that this is mirroring Peter, no. Amazing Fantasy #15 was a fully fleshed out origin story. Amazing Spider-man #1 takes place immediately after Uncle Ben’s murder. Gwen’s origin encompasses years of her being Spider-woman with actual events that go beyond just a sparse origin. When Spider-Gwen starts, we are like coming in at the equivalent of Amazing Spider-man #300.

So Jason Latour tries to use flashbacks and detailed full page word dump expositions at the end of each issue to further fill in the gap between the shit the audience doesn’t know. The latter is quite frankly the laziest thing I’ve ever seen in writing. Rather than creating stories to establish characters and create a catalogue to their history, lets fucking just explain everything that happened in essay form.

This, til this day, pisses me off.

Anyways, when Latour did introduce a characters like a Harry Osborn, he relied on flashbacks to detail what happened. The issue however that he was simultaneously advancing a story while retroactively setting foundation of a character. One example of a past event being constructed entirely out of flashbacks: the death of Peter Parker.

In these flashbacks that are construed across multiple issues and not in chronological order of either the issue nor the flashback, Latour basically shows the audience for the first time Peter’s personality, how Gwen was after her dad indirectly told her about his feeling about Spider-Woman, and a little about their high school life.

The problem with this is that Latour relied on the interpretation of 616 Spider-man characters when he didn’t elaborate on their character for characters like George Stacy, J. Jonah Jameson, and Aunt May while simultaneously hiding behind the excuse of it’s an alternate universe to explain why characters are different. This comes with accusations of character shilling since he portrayed Em Jay as a selfish self-centered person, Peter as an arrogant misanthrope, but Gwen completely escapes her negative 616 characterization and comes off looking better.

So Spider-Gwen really doesn’t have an origin story. And no one actually bothered to make one even 4 years later.

2. Alternate Dimensions convolutes stories

Traveling to another dimension to just fucking go to school is cop out. Granted, the explanation as to why it was done was simply because Gwen doesn’t have a secret identity anymore, but okay, far be it for me from wanting a good time. It would have been more interesting if she persisted in trying to go to school in her universe while being known as Spider-woman, anxiety attacks be damned. “Man fuck consequences of a plot point, let’s just create a specific scenario to avoid them” is what McGuire decided to do. Didn’t even bother to retcon. Just fucking noped it.

MJ says what I’m thinking.

Barring this, it is a stretches my suspension of disbelief that ESU would enroll a girl who not only is named after a deceased student who you named a library after in memoriam but also looks like the girl who died and is around the same age. Oh and also, you hired the guy who looks exactly like her mentor who went on to practice unethical experiments and tried to conquer the world with them at one point but he has a different name so...

Granted, Latour twice left Spider-Gwen in a hole. He wasted Gwen revealing her identity to her father for the introduction of the character and Gwen then revealing her identity to the world to defeat Matt Murderdock kind of screwed the pooch. First, there has to be a way for Gwen to defeat him without sacrificing her identity like exonerating herself from being blamed for Peter’s death because clearly she’s innocent(self-defense and saving kids from some incel white boy turned monster is not an jailable offense).

Regardless, McGuire was dealt a shitty hand that nuked any possibility of continuing any story developments in E-65 without Gwen being under constant danger. I, for one, would welcome it and had Gwen continue to try, it would have made shit interesting.

But this is also taking away Gwen from her own supporting cast that she has had since the beginning and also from her setting. The more she is in 616, the less I am going to see of the Mary Janes. The less I see of Harry although I don’t mind that. The less I see of any character that was established in her series. And honestly, those new characters could have been introduced in her own setting. Hell, E-65 Jackal could have been a college professor at E-65 ESU without Gwen knowing if she attended there.

Why are we choosing to avoid superhero drama in a superhero comic book?

3. Don’t rely on 616 Gwen Stacy while simultaneously declaring this Gwen as a different character

For all intents and purposes, the Death of Gwen Stacy has nothing to do with Spider-Gwen. This book and her fans will deflect any criticism about the lack of parallels between Gwen Stacy’s death and Peter’s death by saying Spider-Gwen is not the same as Gwen. You sit there and complain that all Gwen Stacy is known for is dying yet you commentate using a completely amended character while simultaneously avoiding the literal hundred of issues of character that 616 Gwen previously had before her death.

If you read the Night Gwen Stacy Died as a stand-alone, what you did was the equivalent of watching the Red Wedding without the three seasons leading to the event.

Spider-Gwen can’t go five issues without harping on about every miserable or unhappy or dead Gwen in some other universe. It comes to a culmination that writers want to tie Spider-Gwen to 616 Gwen Stacy so much that she is actively going to school in 616. The same school that Gwen attended and has a library named after her in memoriam, and apparently her creepy stalker teacher still teaches at albeit with a different identity because no one apparently recognizes faces anymore.

This doesn’t redeem Gwen. In fact, you proved Gerry Conway’s point. 616 Gwen is so unlikeable that you’d have to completely change her character to make her not worth throwing off the bridge.

Point is that Spider-Gwen treading the stories of Gwen Stacy defeats the purpose of separating the two in personality. What happens if Kindred is revealed to be the ressurrected Gwen Stacy while Gwen basically caught treading her stories instead of continuing her own?

4. The Jackal? Fucking really?

Personal, but point still stands. I fucking hate the Jackal. Jackal is like the catalyst of feeling like you need to take a shower afterwards. Along with the Inherentors, this is one of the villains that go to far in being made for a specific purpose in that they really don’t have a motivation as to just why do they do the things they do other than to be a bad guy.

Warren Miles is a creepy professor with an almost paedophillic obsession with his barely legal and also dead mentee, 616 Gwen Stacy. And it’s only almost because Gwen was 19 and almost certainly would have engaged in a sexual relationship with her. I don’t buy that he saw her as his child because it’s not like Gwen was just this remarkable science prodigy that would warrant any special attention from a professor. No, she was a remarkable and hot co-Ed scientist that was in her sophomore year. He was trying to fuck her and hated that she was dating guys her age. I wouldn’t put it past him to quid quo pro her into some sick shit for grades.

And the thing about it is that this story has been done before with Mary Jane and it was more appropriate to her occupation as she was a model at the time and married to Peter Parker. She is going to get the attention of richer and skeezy men that would have the power to force her into questionable shit. Hollywood is pretty much a glorified sex trafficking ring, don’t @ me. Far be it for me to say male professors don’t abuse their station on women and sure, I’d like a Spider-Man story to explore that, but Jackal takes it to a whole other that defiles the memory of a dead girl. It is basically a type of necrophilia and ew ew ew ew.

His obsession with Gwen and clones doesn’t foil Peter in anyway. It literally carries this creepy and unsettling implication that if Gwen lived, he would have raped her. There has never been a good Jackal storyline. It is literally the CJ meme every time he appears. He is not an engaging or fun.

Guess who is the first villain Gwen faces in 616.

Why people insist on putting him in anything over more thematically appropriate and fun characters is beyond me. I don’t even mind 65 Jackal. He doesn’t seem to interested in teenaged girls. He just wants to kill her like a proper super villain from what I gather. But of course, we had to not be spared from the comic equivalent of taint that is Miles Warren.

@ubernegro

#marvel #ghost spider #spider-gwen #gwen stacy #long post

[introvertguide]

Swing Time (1936); AFI #90

The next film on the AFI list that we watched was the dance classic Swing Time (1936) with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. The movie was nominated for two Oscars and won Best Song for “The Way You Look Tonight.” The film was rather recently recognized by the US Congress and inducted into the American Film Registry in 2003. The film is mainly known for the dancing and the music, but I want to do a brief overview of the plot:

SPOILER ALERT!!! BTW, these are not even good spoilers because the movie is 80 years old and the plot is a little light. I did my best. 

John "Lucky" Garnett (Fred Astaire) is a gambler (apparently a viable profession in the 30s?) and dancer who is engaged to marry a woman named Margaret (Betty Furness), but his friends make him late for the wedding with a rouse about cuffed trousers (I guess...) and the bride’s father phones to call the whole thing off. His friends get the message but don’t pass on the information and instead bet Lucky that he will not be getting married, and he agrees to the bet. Margaret's father tells Lucky that he must earn $25,000 to demonstrate his good intentions. (Why? Not sure. If it was my daughter, I would either accept his apology or tell him to get lost and never return. There would be no bartering over my child’s happiness. Instead, the father makes it into a bidding war and is suddenly OK with this man standing up his daughter because he might have good financial prospects)

Lucky and his friend "Pop" Cardetti (Victor Moore) try to buy train tickets, but his friends take his money due to the rigged bet over the marriage. Lucky and Pop do their best hobo routine and hitch the first freight train to New York. Broke, they wander around the city and eventually run into Penny (Ginger Rogers), a dance school instructor, when Lucky asks for change for a quarter. It's his lucky quarter and Pop feels bad that Lucky had to exchange it. They attempt to get it back, but Penny is in no mood to deal with them. When she drops her things, Pop sneaks the quarter out of her purse, but she blames Lucky. Quick note, there are screwball romantic comedy beats throughout the film because there are constant mistakes and misunderstandings that are “whacky” and simultaneously move the plot along. They are cute but often make no sense. 

The two follow Penny back to her work so that Lucky can apologize, but he has to take a dancing lesson from her for an opportunity to talk to her. She's still furious and, after a disastrous lesson, Penny tells him to "save his money" since he will never learn to dance. Her boss, Mr. Gordon (Eric Blore), overhears her comment and fires her. Lucky dances with Penny to "prove" how much she's taught him. The dance that the two are able to do “spontaneously” is blatantly choreographed and perfect in every way. For the purpose of the movie, however, it is meant to be improvised. Not only does Mr. Gordon give Penny her job back, he sets up an audition with the owner of a local venue to showcase his new student and his talented teacher. 

Lucky and Pops check into the same hotel where Penny is staying for the audition. Lucky does not have a tuxedo to wear to the audition so he tries to get a tuxedo off a drunk man, but he ends up losing his own clothes instead. Like I said, not everything makes sense so you just have to roll with it sometimes. The pair end up missing their audition and Penny gets mad at Lucky all over again. Lucky is able to arrange another audition then he and Pop picket (literally with sandwich boards) in front of Penny's door until she gives in and forgives him. Also, Penny’s friend Mable and Pops seem to be in a relationship even though they don’t seem to really like each other. Also, Pops always sounds drunk. I don’t know why, it just is. 

In the strangest plot twist yet, it turns out that they cannot audition because the club has lost their band leader, Ricardo Romero (Georges Metaxa), to a casino. They go to Club Raymond where Lucky gambles to win enough to get Ricky back. Meanwhile, it turns out that Ricky Romero has been hitting on Penny for a long time and wants to marry her. Lucky is about to win enough to marry Margaret, but he takes his last bet off in time... proving he is no longer interested in her, but in Penny, instead. This is rather strange because there is nothing forcing Lucky to go back if he makes enough money since the father of Margaret never comes back, but it is seems to be a driving force to prove that he loves Penny. He is willing to remain somewhat poor for her. The owner of Club Raymond bets Lucky on a single card cut and the wager is all of Lucky’s winnings versus the contract of the band leader. Upon seeing that the club owner intends to cheat, Pop cheats as well, and Lucky wins the contract. I am not exactly sure how all this happens, but I see why Lucky is a considered a professional gambler since he is consistently betting in an attempt to win people. 

Lucky and Penny dance at the club and it is beautiful. They are dancing together all the time, but Lucky does not trust himself around Penny because he feels guilty about not telling her about Margaret. He's avoiding her, which Penny notices, so she and her friend Mabel Anderson (Helen Broderick) conspire to get Lucky and Pop out to the country. There is a most awkward number when Pop lets slip the information about Lucky and Margaret and a very flirty Penny becomes very cold as it seems that the two cannot be in love at the same time. 

Mabel basically dares Penny to go in and confess to Lucky that she loves him and they finally have a moment. But as these movies tend to go, Margaret shows up and ruins everything. Penny decides to marry Ricardo and Lucky will go back and marry Margaret. It turns out the Margaret has decided she wants to marry somebody else so Lucky runs out and breaks up the wedding using the same trouser cuff gag that was used on him at the beginning of the movie. 

Ricardo is without pants so Penny says that she guesses she is going to marry Lucky and then Ricardo plays a song with his band celebrating Lucky and what a great guy he is. Lucky and Penny finally have an on screen kiss and that is the end of the movie. 

It was noted by my parents that the music and dance numbers are not evenly dispersed through the movie, but are instead bunched up in the later two-thirds of the film. It is a good 20-25 minutes before the first song while musicals at the time normally had a big opening number (along the lines of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” in The Wizard of Oz). This was apparently due to the first number, ironically named “It’s Not in the Cards,” to be cut from the film as it was judged as being not up to the standard of the other songs. 

A cinematography note (or lack of one, really) concerning the dance skill of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, many of the dance sequences have 3-5 minute uncut shots in which the camera barely moves. Astaire famously said on many occasions that he was doing the dancing, not the camera. With his perfectionism and the general toughness of Rogers, the two would do dozens of takes for these complicated dance numbers to the point that the high heels would rub in Ginger’s feet causing them to bleed. Every dance scene is a testament to both actor’s dedication to their art. 

The movie was similar to painting a room in that it took much less time to complete the aspect that people would actually see than the time it took to prepare. Months of developing the choreography and rehearsing was filmed over weeks despite the multiple takes insisted on by both director George Stevens and Fred Astaire. Dance director Hermes Pan was a very creative choreographer that developed highly technical and extremely complicated dance numbers and Astaire insisted they were done flawlessly. Ginger was a talented dancer that brought the best out of Fred because she continued on take after take and was able to keep up with Astaire’s almost manic work ethic. 

The number that Astaire performs when Margaret shows up to see him in a tribute to Jim “Bojangles” Robinson and involves Lucky being in black face. The number is a little weird and he goes through a good five minutes of shenanigans following the number still in black face. It is just weird. I just kept thinking he needed to wash off his face already, but he deals with both of the club owners and again loses Ricardo’s contract. I has awkward moments with Penny meeting Margaret and it is just so much more so since Lucky is still in black face. It is pretty uncomfortable in today’s society

Although I personally like the simple sound of his voice, Astaire has never been recognized as a very good singer. He also is not known for his acting, especially in his younger years. He was a world recognized phenomenal dancer from age 10 when he danced with his sister to the day he died. He was also not a classically good looking man being oddly proportioned with large facial features (especially the ears). All this being said, he successfully plays a suave gambler, sings beautifully, dances spectacularly, and truly embodies a confident man that makes women swoon. This was a perfect movie for Astaire in that it challenged his dancing skill and he was able to play off Ginger for his acting. He was not given much to sing but a very simple little piece that worked well his voice. He was dressed well with a top hat throughout the film. The film is truly the all around best of Fred Astaire (at least I think so).

So would I recommend the film? Absolutely, but I would mention the Bojangles in Harlem number because the blackface is a little off-putting. I think most people will either just skip it, watch it and not care, or watch it and think the 30s was a very different time. Everybody is different, though, so keep it in mind. Should this film be on the AFI 100 list? I think that the way that Astaire was filmed due to his talent and perfectionism is something that  has been lost to film trickery so something like this which highlights the best of Fred Astaire should surely be searched at and ranked as one of the best parts of American cinematic history. A great film that is a lot of fun to watch. 

#fred astaire #ginger rogers #swing time #dance #musicals #film critique #AFI movies #introvert #introverts #1930s movies #vintage film #black and white #choreography

[mdelpin]

Things Aren’t Always As They Seem - Chapter 2

Gratsu Bingo 2019 Prompt: Dare AO3 | FF.Net | Tumblr Ch1

Chapter 2

Two men walked along a busy street, looking at the numbers on the buildings as they bickered. One had longish pink hair, his skin sun-kissed. Everything about him radiated nervous energy while his companion, a slightly taller man with dark raven hair and a pale complexion only looked at his surroundings with disinterest.

“You don’t even know where you’re going, do you?” An exasperated grunt was heard from the taller male. “What do you plan to do, yell out his name and hope he answers? Sounds like something from a bad movie.”

“It’s around here somewhere, Sting wrote the address down for me,” Natsu Dragneel huffed, not wanting to admit that he wasn’t even sure they were on the correct street. The numbers were all wrong.

“What makes you think he even wants to see you again? From what you said, you were kind of a douchebag to him.”

“Shut up, Zeref! I wouldn’t have had to be if it weren’t for you,” Natsu snapped, his frustration evident in the sharpness with which he replied.

“Me?! What on Earth did I have to do with it?”

“Just shut up.”

They continued to make their way slowly up the street when Zeref tore the piece of paper from Natsu’s hand. “Let me see that.”

Natsu huffed, “What would you know? You’re not even from around here.”

Zeref swallowed his retort and studied the address that Natsu’s friend had scribbled on the piece of paper, peering at the numbers on the buildings nearest to them. With a long-suffering sigh, he pointed out the problem. “We’re on the wrong side of the street.”

Natsu only gave him an embarrassed grin before hurrying to cross the street with Zeref following close behind. He looked at the number on the building and announced, “It should be on the next block.”

Zeref had already begun to move towards the address when he noticed Natsu hadn’t budged.

“What’s the matter now? We’ve come all this way.”

Natsu’s eyes were unsure, fear lurking in their shining depths. “What if he’s still angry? What if he’s moved on?”

Zeref sighed, not this again. He tried to be patient, matters of the heart were complicated and frankly more terrifying than being chased down by a band of bloodthirsty warriors intent on their destruction, which they had been doing for quite a while now.

“There’s only one way to really know the answer, and that is to talk to him. If you mean as much to him as he does to you, he’ll listen,” Zeref wanted to hug Natsu desperately, but he held himself back, still not sure if he had earned such a gesture.

“You’re right,” Natsu breathed deeply, and in a jittery voice, he added, “I knew it was a possibility when I decided to go on this journey. If only he’d waited a bit longer before acting on it.”

Natsu frowned at himself. It wasn’t Gray’s fault for telling Natsu how he felt, it was Natsu’s for not telling him what he was planning. He sighed, when did everything get so damn complicated?

“Let’s go,” Natsu tried to find some confidence within himself to quiet down the panic he was starting to feel. Not much longer now. He surprised himself by grabbing Zeref’s hand and holding on to it, like a child looking to his parent for strength, was even more surprised when Zeref allowed it. And as they moved closer towards the address Sting had jotted down, Natsu was glad Zeref was with him, even if he wasn’t the touchy-feely type.

O-o

The Uber finally arrived at their destination, and after having paid for the ride, Gray had the unenviable task of somehow getting his passed out brother out of the car and into their apartment. He managed to pull him out, and to save some of his dignity maneuvered him onto his back, the offending sash all but forgotten.

Gray turned around, hoping for once the unreliable elevator in their building was working, he wasn’t really looking forward to lugging his brother up four flights of stairs. It was at that moment when he saw him. Or at least he thought he did.

A sakura haired man was walking towards him, his hand held loosely by a slightly taller man with features not that dissimilar to Gray’s own. Gray blinked wanting to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d imagined seeing Natsu, and he had been drinking.

When the vision in pink was still there, Gray felt a blind fury explode within him. How dare he? How dare he disappear for two years and return with a boyfriend that for all intent and purposes looked like his replacement? Was he not good enough?

He could tell the exact moment Natsu saw him, could see the panic in his best friend’s eyes and the squeeze to his hand the other man gave him before letting go and giving him a soft nudge in Gray’s direction, an action that both enraged and confused Gray but he wasn’t about to dwell on that now.

He forgot he was holding Lyon as he darted forward, and feeling annoyed by the weight on his back that was keeping him from moving swiftly, he dropped it, instantly hearing a thud followed by a surprised yelp.

“What the hell?” Lyon muttered in confusion as he woke mid-flight to landing on his ass on the sidewalk in front of their building.

“Damn it, Gray, the last thing I need is a bruise on my ass!” He protested loudly, already rubbing the sore spot as he stood up unsteadily. He watched in disbelief as his brother quite literally stomped towards another man. A man who looked to have a rather distinctive shade of pink hair.

Lyon closed his eyes for a moment, willing the alcohol to stop showing him impossible things, but when he opened them again the man was still there, and his brother was still headed towards him with what looked to be murderous intent. He also noticed the man standing next to who could only be Natsu tensing up, his eyes measuring Gray up, his hands already clenched into fists.

“Oh, shit! Gray, just hold on a minute,” Lyon stumbled along as best he could trying to reach his brother before he did something he would regret. “Will you just listen to me?” he continued to shout as it became increasingly clear he wasn’t going to get there in time.

Natsu could only stand there like a deer in headlights, he’d never seen Gray so angry. And even though he’d spent most of his childhood fighting with Gray, and had upped his training the last two years while evading Zeref’s enemies he knew he deserved whatever Gray dished out. He tried to relax his body as he waited for the impact.

“One free hit is all he gets,” Zeref avowed next to him, his voice remaining calm but Natsu was quick to recognize the menace implied as to what would happen after that hit. He knew he had to do something fast. If there was one thing he’d learned about Zeref in their time together, it was that he could be quite violent and scary when he wished to be.

Natsu knelt, touching his head to the sidewalk and whispered, “I’m sorry!”

This action was enough to stop Gray in his tracks, leaving him with a confused expression that was enough to make Zeref relax slightly.

“Get up!” Gray growled, and Natsu complied, albeit slowly, taking in the changes that the last two years had wrought on Gray. His gaze got as high as Gray’s chest before his expression changed from one of remorse to one of profound sadness.

“When’s the wedding?” Natsu asked politely, trying to hide how everything inside of him was shattering.

“Tomorrow,” Gray responded, confused by the question, but it had been one he had been asked a lot that evening, and so he responded matter-of-factly, as he had every other time.

“I wish you congratulations, I guess we can talk after you get back,” Natsu held on to the last threads of his self-control, not wanting Gray to see how much that information had affected him.

“Let’s go Zeref,” he turned around walking as quickly as he could, leaving all three men staring after him blankly.

“Why is he so upset about Lyon getting married?” Gray scratched his head, not understanding anything that was happening. He felt an eerie pressure on his back, and as he attempted to find its source, he was confronted by the heated glare of Natsu’s companion.

His fingers moved to his shirt, already working on getting it off when they bumped into the sash, and things finally clicked. The fucking sash, God how he hated that thing.

For fuck’s sake!

Gray ran after Natsu, reaching him before he could cross the street. He pulled him back, turning him around in the process. He was startled by the way Natsu seemed to be fighting off tears.

“You idiot! I’m not the one getting married. Lyon is, he just made me wear this to torture me,” Gray cheered inwardly at the relief on Natsu’s face, but then he remembered how Natsu had left without a word and even though he was thrilled to have him in front of him again he was still mad.

“But even if I were, it would be none of your damn business. Where do you even get off being upset about it? You ran away from me, remember?”

Natsu threw his arms around him, ignoring the stiff set of Gray’s shoulders that were clearly screaming, Don’t touch!

Once Natsu let go of him, Gray took the sash off and shredded it to pieced before throwing it away, hoping Lyon hadn’t intended to keep it. He kind of doubted it, his brother was not exactly the sentimental type.

He took his own look at Natsu, his eyes hungry for the sight of him. It had been too long, two years of only being able to see him in old pictures and memories. Natsu looked leaner, having finally lost the boyishness of his features, and even though Gray lamented their loss, he had to admit Natsu looked even more attractive than he remembered.

“I’m so sorry for the way I left, but you have to believe me, it was the only way,” Natsu’s eyes pleaded with him in a way that was very familiar although this had more urgency than usual, and Gray was comforted to see that at least some things hadn’t changed.

“That remains to be seen, who’s the boyfriend?” Gray tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice, but it still hurt. Then again, it wasn’t like he hadn’t dated anyone in that time or like they’d promised each other anything.

Actually, he promised you less than nothing, his mind reminded him helpfully.

“Boyfriend?” Natsu had no idea what Gray was talking about, he’d never even looked at anyone that way since he’d left, his mind being full of Igneel and Gray. He thought about the way he’d been grasping Zeref’s hand and guessed that could be confused for something more.

“Oh, you mean Zeref? He’s my older brother,” Natsu explained, knowing very well it would come as a shock. Hell, it had been a shock to him too! He’d gone in search of Igneel, only to discover a brother he never even knew he had.

“Brother? Are you sure?” Gray had known Natsu all his life, and he’d never heard of a brother before. Just what the hell had happened in their time apart? He couldn’t help it, his curiosity was far outweighing his anger, and he knew it.

With a halfhearted nod to his quickly receding rage, he announced, “I’m still angry with you, but I want you to tell me everything. Come on, let’s go inside, Lyon has to get up early tomorrow.”

They walked back to the other two men who were engrossed in conversation, and Gray wished he’d been able to hear it. He was very interested in this Zeref, especially considering the glares he was getting from him.

Natsu managed to get Zeref’s attention and quickly introduced him to Gray, “Zeref Dragneel, these are Gray and Lyon Fullbuster. Guys, this is my brother, Zeref.”

He managed to grin a little, after all this time alone, it felt good to be able to say he had a brother.

“It’s Vastia now,” Lyon corrected absently.

“Huh?”

“Don’t even get him started,” Gray rolled his eyes at his brother, “He and Juvia are doing this thing where they’re picking a last name they both like instead of having her take Fullbuster.”

“Juvia? As in Juvia Lockser?” Natsu asked as if there were a horde of girls named Juvia who lived in Magnolia.

“The one and only,” Gray shrugged, not giving the matter much importance, “If you ask me, he just wants to make sure she doesn’t end up with my last name.”

“After the way you treated her when you guys were together, maybe she wasn’t comfortable with the idea,” Lyon defended weakly, but the way his cheeks flared made Natsu think that perhaps Gray might be on to something. Juvia had obsessed over Gray all through high school, sometimes in overly creepy ways.

“You used to date her? I think I need to sit down.”

“Don’t even attempt to change the subject, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

They entered the building, luck favoring them as for once the elevator roared to life when they pressed the Up button. Natsu and Gray remained silent, each preparing for what was to be an awkward conversation, while Lyon and Zeref exchanged meaningless pleasantries.

They entered the apartment, and Lyon set about making coffee for everyone. Although he should go to bed, he knew how volatile Natsu and Gray could be, and he wasn’t sure Zeref could handle them. Besides, he was curious as well.

Lyon was glad to see Natsu back. When they hadn’t heard anything from him in such a long time he’d feared the worst, well aware of Natsu’s gullible nature.

He believed the two could hash out their differences with time. Lyon missed the way his brother used to be before everything had happened, and he hoped that Natsu’s presence would cure him of the depression he’d been under.

“Alright, talk,” Gray demanded, barely even giving Natsu a chance to sit down in their living room, which was currently cluttered with all sorts of items for the wedding.

“I got a strange letter right before graduation,” Natsu began, looking down at his hands nervously.

“What kind of letter?”

“It said that if I wanted to see my father I needed to go to Alakitasia right away,” Natsu explained.

“I should have known!” Gray exploded, “I should have known this would have something to do with Igneel. You promised us Natsu! You said you were done with these wild goose chases.”

“See?” Natsu yelled in frustration, his voice sharp as he defended himself, “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you anything then. I knew this was exactly how you were going to react.”

“Because all it does is cause you pain,” Gray snapped,” You always come back empty-handed, and then you’re miserable for months, and I’m the one stuck helping you get you over it.”

“Well excuse me for not wanting to give up hope on finding the only person who ever cared for me!” Natsu retorted, feeling hurt by Gray’s words,” Sorry for inconveniencing you with my feelings.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Natsu,” Gray protested weakly, knowing he might have pushed too hard a bit too early. He really was out of practice, and in some ways, this was a new Natsu. He’d have to get to know him all over again.

“Not to mention, Alakitasia? It’s not exactly the next town over,” Gray sputtered in disbelief, “For chrissakes, you get lost taking the crosstown bus! How the hell were you expecting to get to Alakitasia? That’s not even factoring in your motion-sickness! Who was the letter even from?”

“I don’t know,” Natsu had been dreading that question, but he’d promised himself that if he ever got this far, he would be truthful.

“You’re telling me you went off to Alakitasia on the say-so of a letter that wasn’t even signed?” Gray shouted, even though his head was throbbing from the stupidity that was spewing from Natsu’s lips, “Are you out of your goddamned mind? They could’ve been trying to kidnap you!”

“I know, Gray,” Natsu sighed, this was going to be harder than he’d thought, “Are you going to let me talk?”

“Are we sure they even like each other?” Zeref whispered to Lyon, confused by the amount of tension and anger in the room.

Lyon laughed easily, “They do, they’ve just never communicated well with words.”

“Then how do they usually…,” Zeref let the question linger in the air, not sure what he was asking.

“Fists usually, that’s where you and I will come in. We’ll need to stop them before it gets to that.”

“This is friendship?” Zeref asked in disbelief.

“They’re not easily defined, “Lyon’s smile was full of affection for both men, “Perhaps we should arbitrate from the kitchen? I’d love to hear about Alakitasia, it was one of the places we considered for our honeymoon.”

Zeref nodded in agreement, still perplexed by this man his brother was so deeply in love with. His temperament was all over the place, and a few times he’d looked like he genuinely wanted to hurt Natsu, only to have his face look like a kicked puppy when Natsu replied in kind. It was nothing like the love that he’d been used to, and he wondered if he’d done the right thing letting Natsu come back here.

To Be Continued...

A/N: Okay just ignore me completely, I have no idea how long anything is ever going to be. I’ve just come to accept it. It grew too long as I was writing and so I have decided there will be another chapter because I became too enamored of  Zeref’s backstory and Natsu hasn’t even left Magnolia yet in his telling of events. This seemed a good stopping point.

#fairy tail #gratsu #gratsubingo2019 #ftlgbtales #update #prompt: dare #natsu x gray #gray x natsu

[incoherentbabblings]

Unspoken Promises

Sitting on the car roof waiting for Zatanna to show up, Stephanie became acutely aware of how their leaving home must have looked to the rest of the family, and makes her think about what want from the future, especially after everything had come crashing down in the aftermath of Brother Eye and the Batman of Tomorrow.  Tim for once isn’t thinking too deep about it.  

2,500 words on Tim and Steph cuddles from YJ #5. AO3 Link here!

So for all my doubt about Bendis (He also liked my tweet I sent him thanking him for making TimSteph so cute so like… that gave me a whump of validation right there) I was so over the moon with his interpretation of Tim and Stephanie’s relationship that it actually got me to write fanfiction for the first time in about a decade (ooft).  I am following in the grand DC tradition of what is continuity in that I am writing as if the Bat’s History is all in tact, but YJ and Teen Titans is just what had been established in the New 52.  How does that work? It doesn’t but never mind that I wanted to write mush

Anyway here is Tim I look at my girlfriend as if she hung the stars at night Drake and Stephanie We have 100% ran away from home which means we are 100% eloping which means yes I will marry you no you don’t even have to ask Brown.

There are like…so many references to past and current stories and dialogue in this, as well as my previous babblings on their relationship.  

Anyway, enjoy!!!

He had a habit, she’d noticed, ever since they’d been together, of holding her face. His fingers had always been cold, but dry, and his palm fit neatly along her jawline. He was always soft with her, and she wouldn’t dare have it otherwise.  When she isn’t talking, and he isn’t smiling and humming indulgently at her wittering on, he seemed to be nothing more than quite content to just hold and stare at her. Like the sun is infused in her hair. Like her and her alone is immune to the anti-life equation, like she is life’s meaning. Like she is so precious that she might be gone the next morning.

 Because that did happen once, when she was left to die without him. Does Tim hate me? She had asked Batman. No. Bruce had replied. He adores you. Always has.

Only now with them lying on the bonnet of Tim’s red car, his stare so openly reverent, Stephanie found herself trusting Bruce’s statement to the dying girl with a broken body (and heart).

He’d been taken from her too, violently and so suddenly that she had found herself talking to a clay program of his, so starved for his face and hungry for his advice… Then again Stephanie had heard from other sources that he’d considered throwing what he’d thought was her corpse into a Lazarus Pit, so maybe they were both reliant on the other to act as a guide.

Those Batmen she’d seen, first the one from a future where she was either dead or under what seemed like permanent house arrest (it wasn’t clear), and then one made of corrupt dreams and corrupt computer programs… They were ones she’d silently promised herself that she would reel in within Tim whenever they reared their ugly, twisted heads. She’d remind him, remind them why they wanted to help people. The two of them didn’t know any other way, not anymore.

How stubborn they were that they scraped their way back to each other.

Stephanie soon grew shy being gazed at by Tim and leaned forward.  One hand tightened in his sweater, whilst the other cupped the back of his head. He quickly got the idea and leaned forward, their lips touching briefly for a moment before she readjusted her position, straddling one his legs to get a firm pressure between her own.

Tim’s smile turned cheeky then, and he began to push up into a sitting position.  Stephanie gave a slight grunt, and forced him back down, hand slipping down his top to grip at his hip. She kissed him deeply.

A bird took off near the car, disturbing some fallen leaves on the ground.  It was still warm enough at sunset to not have to wear a coat, and both of them had opted for oversized sweaters, Steph in her customary purple, Tim in his usual green.  They had been travelling for a few weeks now, enough for the new school year to have started, and yet here they both were, several states down, in DC, nowhere near Ivy University in New England.  The thought made Stephanie giggle.

“Now you have to admit it!” She exclaimed, thumping her head down to rest on Tim’s chest, listening to his heart beat.  Solid.  Warm.

Tim meanwhile was looking awfully smug, one arm cradling her shoulders, pressing their already entangled bodies closer, the other arm thrown up behind his head.  His eyes were shut, and he was smirking.

“I don’t have to admit anything.” 

“Admit it!”

“I was raised by Batman, Stephanie,” – and right on que her eyes rolled up to her skull.  Batman Batman Batman – “I am a stubborn master.”

“Admit we ran from home!”

That got him to open his eyes and stare at her once more.  He was indulging her again, she knew, and she let him do so.

“A Batgirl and a Robin told everybody we were going off to college and then we drove the other way.”

“Because we’re in the middle of an investigation into the –”

She interrupted him, whispering the phrase “Nobody knows where we are!” conspiratorially, as if they weren’t sitting outside one of the most heavily monitored buildings in the county.  But sure, they were definitely back in New England, studying at one of the country’s most prestigious universities.

Not that they didn’t leave with the purest intentions, this investigation into timelines and universes…  However neither had the foggiest clue where to start.  Tim had recalled Dick and Bruce talking of Wally, the idea that something or someone been messing with time or memories. To avoid Bruce catching wind of what they were up to, they had asked Black Canary, and Dinah had suggested magic, which had led them to Zatanna.

Tim knew Bruce knew they weren’t at college.  He just didn’t want Bruce to know why.  This trip was partially for him and Steph to be alone.  Properly.  Without Bruce and his weird secrets and mind games. Without the pressure of fighting crime each night with all its mental and physical traumas.

Without Cassandra bursting through their window with takeout after a night of training, catching Steph in her nightshirt and Tim with his pyjama bottoms halfway up his legs. 

It had been going well, as well as could be expected of two seventeen-year olds going on a targetless road trip.  Tim had enough money to his name to keep them going for more than enough time, and Stephanie didn’t want for much regardless. 

Still, this trip had a purpose, and they both hoped that speaking with Zatanna would orient them in the right direction. 

“I’m just saying,” Stephanie continued, now grinning back at Tim’s softening smile “The only thing missing is the circus for us to join.”

It was almost funny how their conversations always came back to their future together.  They were still so young but they always spoke of what their lives would be, could be, five, ten, fifteen years down the line. 

Not that the circus was a serious suggestion, but it made her point all the same.  They had split off from the family back home, deliberately gaining some distance.  They’d not spoken to Bruce since he’d waved them off, hearing that they’d get the official wedding invite ‘any day now’ (any day now had been going on for weeks at this point, both were afraid to enquire for an update).  They’d not heard from Dick in even more time (something was going on with the Titans, on and off the field, but Tim hadn’t chased it).  Damian and Jason were enigmas as usual to them (coming and going as they pleased).  They’d get the odd photo and message sent from Cass and Duke and Barbara, the three of them seemed to be forming a little huddle, but for the most part, it was radio silence.  Maybe Bruce had encouraged it for once.  Leave them alone.  Let them be teenagers.  They can figure it out if they want to do the superhero gig on their own.

Or maybe that was too forgiving of an assumption of Bruce.

The other day Stephanie had been filming Tim being a dweeb, and she had muttered about making their (hypothetical) children watch this so they could be assured that their (hypothetical) father was never once cool ever.  Tim had just laughed and argued that she was just as bad as he, she was only better at covering it up.  He didn’t flush at the mention of children, and he didn’t call out at her statement at all.  It was a quiet assumption between them, the idea of children (plural.  Both had been so lonely growing up they couldn’t bear the thought of repeating their parents’ mistakes).  An unspoken promise never confirmed aloud.

Seventeen years old and they were already thinking of when they’d be thirty five.  Maybe one near (actual?) death experience each made them grip to that future tightly.  They would have it all.  They would help people until there was no longer a need for them to do so anymore, upon which they could bow out, ready to drop the double-faced world they occupied.

It had been temporary for Tim, initially.  He didn’t so much as want to be Robin as he was at the only one who could be Robin. 

It had been temporary for Stephanie, initially.  She couldn’t let her father go on hurting people, and she was at first the only one who knew what weird, over the top schemes he’d managed to cobble together. 

It was supposed to be temporary, for both of them. 

I can make it all work.  I can make a system that can sustain itself… After all that, I can take care of myself.  Take care of us.  I promise.

 And yet that promise he’d made aloud, mere hours before everything had blown up in their faces – literally – had been a rude awakening that their line of work didn’t allow easy early retirements, not truly. 

That was okay though, not today didn’t mean not ever, or at least, that’s what they had both told themselves at night sleeping in assorted cheap hotels.  The receptionists had always given them funny looks, no doubt Tim and Stephanie probably did look like young eloping teenagers.  Tim had surprised Stephanie in his reaction to their expressions, putting his foot down when affirming yes we want a double bed no not twin singles.  When checking out in the morning Tim defiantly left the bed an unmade mess, as if they were a pair of rabbits who couldn’t get enough of each other, as if trying to earn that slightly disapproving look from across the counter. 

She thought maybe he was tired of people giving their opinion on the two of them being together. 

And ultimately, that is what they were wasn’t it?  Teenage sweethearts running away from home.

And to the circus, if that’s what it came down to.

Stephanie’s buzzing phone and Zatanna’s arrival had brought an end to the feeling of joviality.  Stephanie’s thoughts were being torn in two directions.  She couldn’t stand the thought of her father running around doing as he pleased, and she had a sudden sharp stab of fear for her mother, but she had just reaffirmed that she was staying with Tim come hell or high water.  Tim made the decision for her.  He knew she wouldn’t be focused going forward unless she chased down her father, so gave the both of them a three day deadline. 

“You’ll be focused and I’ll have a start.” He stated.  He was dressed in his uniform, looking somehow both dashing and fragile at once.  What he thought he knew had been shaken again, except for the blonde girl standing in front of him.  The one who was looking at him with a slightly befuddled but still endeared smile. 

“I love you Tim Drake.” She said, ignoring for a moment where they were and what he was dressed as. 

There was a beat of silence.  Enough to make Stephanie uncomfortable.  He had usually always been the first to declare it to her.  Now that she had uttered it first, he seemed at a loss on how to respond.  She decided to prompt him, trying not to sound too desperate when she asked:

“Did you hear –?”

“I’m madly in love with you, Steph.”  He blurted out.  His smile widened until he looked overjoyed.  “I was just about to tell you that.  I was going to tell you I was so happy you were in my repressed memories, too, because I didn’t want – ”

A life without you was how he was going to finish his declaration before she threw herself at him, smacking a kiss on his lips, and Tim saw his world go pink for a moment.

He had been relieved that she’d been in those memories.  She had to have been.  She was the only one, for so long, who knew him as both Robin and Tim.  The Teen Titans had asked and asked but he’d always been so reluctant to cave in, whilst part of his fear of leaving the title of Robin would mean losing Bruce and Dick and Barbara, for what possible reason could Tim Drake have to associate with them?  It was different now, he was Bruce’s adopted son, so their connection could not be severed regardless of him wearing a mask or not, and he had opened up to his friends, slowly but surely. 

She was still the person he wanted to be with him every step of the way.  She’s never cared what title he’d held, she’d cared more about the way he held her.  This was his chance though.  She had always been stuck on the fringes of their generation, not having many close friends outside of Gotham.  If his friends and family could become hers… he just wanted her with him every step of the way.  It was selfish of him he knew, but she deserved a better family than the one she’d been born into, and he had the opportunity to give it to her.

She was gripping the front of his uniform tightly, and he was holding her shoulders.  Leaning forward, he put their foreheads together with a gentle thunk.  Still smiling, he reminded her of the three day deadline.

“Two days.” She pushed.

“Promise?” He looked at her, and she smiled guiltily.  How many broken promises had they made to each other?  How many had they kept?  How many had remained unspoken, for fear of them never coming true? 

“I can’t.” Stephanie exhaled unsteadily, her eyes tearing up. 

He didn’t sound disappointed when he responded, “I know.”  He understood.  Better than anyone he understood the danger of promises and oaths. 

For a brief moment she longed for them to forget responsibilities and be utterly selfish.  Run away to the circus like she’s joked.  Confirm every suspicious look those receptionists had given them for the past four weeks.  Leave behind broken families who didn’t know what good communication meant between the lot of them and start a newer better family in its place.  It was a whim that would remain in her head, but she answered the question she would sit and wait for over the next twenty years if need be out loud, as both a promise to Tim and to herself.

“…But I do.”

Tim didn’t say anything more in response, but looked up at her, his forehead still pressed to hers, and breathed a laugh.  He knew what she’d meant when she’s said I do, of course he figured it out, but he also knew to let it remain out of context.  Another unspoken promise. 

They’d be fine.  More than fine.  He would find his friends and he would take care of them.  They’d scraped their way back to each other for a reason. He couldn’t let her, or Conner or Cassie or Bart or any of the others, slide by any longer.

Another unspoken promise. 

#dc #timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #this is super self-indulgent so please indulge me... #my fic tag

[livvywrites]

the curse that failed (or, the witch’s guide to true love, part 2)

so while i get some outlining done in prep for Camp NaNo and also to keep myself from tearing my own hair out while writing, i’ve also decided to try my hand (once again) at short story writing.

this is based on a prompt I found here, which i’ll reply to or @ once I actually finish the damn thing. 

However, the prompt itself was: 

A princess accidentally wrongs a witch and is cursed so that no man shall ever love her. Fortunately, the princess is a lesbian, and is overjoyed. When the witch finds out that her spell backfired, she is furious, and goes to confront the princess. Except now that she’s a little calmer, the princess is super cute? Sparks fly, and not because of a magic spell. 

The ‘part 2′ in the title actually refers to the idea for a prequel I got as I was writing it, so.

Anyway, I strayed from the prompt A LOT but here’s a snippet of what I have so far!! 

this is also one of many fairy tale-esque stories i have in the works, oops

Annalise didn’t know the woman was a witch. Which… in some cases, wouldn’t make it better to have offended her. But in this case, she was rather sure she could be forgiven.

Witches were so touchy, you see. Offended by the smallest slight. From being offered a pink rose rather than a yellow one to being seated by a fairy at dinner.

Though that last one did have political connotations, at the very least. Bit like sitting two nobles locked in a blood feud next to each other. Poor cousin Marjorie. A hundred year old oak table, gone. In an instant. To say nothing of the—quite excellent—meal. Oh, and those lovely dishes. Quite the tragedy, insofar as material possessions went. No one was hurt physically, at the very least, as the fight was broken up by an excellent diplomat. The two were even close friends now, imagine that.

Anyway.

You never could tell what would set them off. And Annalise had been having a bad day that day, so it wasn’t as if she was paying attention.

And. Well. Alright. So maybe she did a little more than just “offend” the witch. But she really didn’t mean to knock the bucket over! Especially not on the day the servants were replacing the wards on the castle walls. Especially, especially not on a magic-born witch.

That was just… Well, that was just plain old bad luck.

But the witch didn’t see it that way. It was always a personal insult with that bunch, and when faced with such an insult, they were generally act-first, ask-questions-later.

So when the witch screwed her face up and pointed one talon-tipped finger in Annalise’s face, she was fully prepared to be turned into a frog. Or something. Instead she just felt tingly all over. And not in a good way. A, bugs-are-crawling-all-over-my-skin way. Very unpleasant.

Imperiously, the witch spoke.

“For this attempt upon my life I decree That no man shall ever wish to wed thee For your sins, you shall pay until your last breathing day.”

Suddenly, it was all Annalise could do not to grin.

Kali had been told since the day she cast her first spell that her temper would get her in trouble one day. She’d always brushed these warnings off, despite her mothers’ best intentions. Until one summer’s day, when she was visiting the palace in [kingdom] and Princess Annalise, only child of the king and queen, knocked a bucket of water in her path.

Water mixed with soap, lemon juice, and powdered golem’s teeth. Not an easy thing to come by, these days—making golems was an art falling to the wayside, since they were immune to magic once created. Or—well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. It was more like they took these spells and then added them to their own power source, like a constant source of recharging. At any rate, they could be a drain to keep up with, constantly needing to be fed, and what with most witches and wizards working with the general populace—and each other—these days… Well, it was just a pain. Not to mention the effort that went into building them in the first place.

Much easier to use a temporary animation spell—perhaps combined with an enlargement charm.

At any rate, golem teeth made an excellent tool for dispelling magic. Excellent for wiping away old wards to be replaced with new ones. Not so excellent when you were magic-born. As in. Literally made of magic. Created by her mothers, in an act of their love for each other. (And what love it was, considering they had been together for the better part of 200 years now.) A dispelling charm would just cause her to need reforming, but a dispelling liquid? Now that could kill her.

So of course, she freaked out.

Her mothers would say that was no excuse to go around cursing people, especially not before you double checked their intent.

But, what was done was done. Curses could be broken. It was done all the time! Generally by true love’s kiss, but, in this case, her mothers would probably make her do it. If they found out.

…When they found out.

Nosy old crones.

To say Annalise’s parents weren’t pleased was an understatement. Especially considering they had just finished brokering a deal for Annalise to be married off to some wealthy youngest prince of some neighboring nation. Annalise hadn’t been impressed from the get go, honestly. Prince Theodore sounded like a lovely man on all accounts, don’t get her wrong, but honestly… Annalise simply had no interest in him. Or anyone like him. By which she meant men. In general.

They made excellent friends. Annalise slipped out of the castle pretty regularly to go drinking with a few of them. (Specifically a knight-in-training; an apprentice smith; and a silver-tongued bard. Wasn’t that just the cast of a good adventure story?) Romantically, however, Annalise simply had no use for them. And she had never quite understood why there always had to be a king and a queen… or why each had their own separate duties. Why not divide them up as they were suited for them—and not by some archaic definition of suited either. Suited as to the individual.

Annalise had always believed her mother was more fit to lead an army than her father. And her father—oh, he was much better at planning seating arrangements than her mother could ever hope to be. Yet, tradition dictated that her mother be the one to arrange parties while her father barked orders at tin soldiers. It was sad, really.

But Annalise’s ideas were too “wild” to be entertained. (“Centuries of tradition cannot be wrong, Annalise.”  Her parent’s favorite reply. Annalise had once bitten her tongue to bleeding to keep from reminding them that, centuries of tradition had been broken by a princess before, and had resulted in a lovely peace between humans and magical creatures. Which had advanced medicine and technology to heights that would have been unthinkable a decade ago.)

“If I didn’t know better, I would swear you had done it on purpose,” her father said, face flushed with irritation. His beard twitched as he scowled. “After all that work. Do you realize how difficult it was to find you a husband, Annalise? Especially after that… that scandal!” Her father narrowed his eyes at her, bushy brows coming together.

He was, of course, referring to the time when visiting monarchs had caught her wearing men’s practice clothes in the yard and dueling with her knight-in-training friend. To be fair, it was the yard furthest from the castle, and the one hardly ever toured. The odds that they would be found were extremely low. But found they had been.

Her father had been furious. Annalise had been under guard for weeks before he finally deemed her contrite enough.

Thank goodness for her acting lessons.

Or, rather, her lessons-in-how-to-be-polite-when-you’d-really-rather-not.

Or, rather, etiquette.

(Now they held their practice sessions in the woods, and got their blades from the apprentice smith.)

Her mother cleared her throat, face placid as usual. “Your father raises a good point, darling.” Oh, no. Her mother breaking out the pet names was never a good sign. “You didn’t do this on purpose… did you?”

Annalise had to curl her fists to keep from scowling. “Of course not! Prince Theodore is a lovely fellow. It would be an honor to marry him.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Dear, I think your father and I both know you better than that. You’ve been sullen ever since the marriage was first set upon the table. And don’t think we haven’t noticed how much cheerful you’ve been since that curse.”

Annalise’s mouth twisted. “Mother, I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose. I don’t even know any witches. Except for the castle apothecary, but, she’s from the order of alchemists. They don’t do curses. And she’s far too proper to ever have a hand in something like this!”

Her mother scrutinized her for a moment more, before humming to herself. “Yes, I suppose if you had truly sought to get out of the marriage, you would have simply run away.”

Annalise thought about the plans she had made with her friends—plans she had called off, not long after the curse was cast. And the bag she had yet to unpack, beneath her bed. “Ah. Yes. That… would have been more my style.”

Her mother let out a long, drawn out sigh.

Her father simply stared at her. “Annalise.”

“What?”

He pinched his nose. “Running away is not acceptable behavior for a princess. Particularly not for the sole heir of the throne.”

“I haven’t run away!”

Her mother put a hand on her father’s arm. “Know which battles you should leave alone, love.” She cut her gaze to Annalise. “This is going to make your ascension that much more complicated. You only have a few years before you’ll be expected to take over. The kingdom cannot be without a king.”

“Then why not just make it a title?” Annalise asked.

“It is a title,” her father said wearily.

“No, that’s not what I meant! I meant a title that… well. Anyone could wear. Regardless of their sex. As the true-blooded heir, I could be king, and whoever I married could be queen. If I can’t marry a man, then, well. There are plenty of suitable princesses, right?”

Her parents exchanged a glance.

“My dear, centuries of tradition are in place for a reason,” her father said.

Annalise crossed her arms. “I bet that’s what Queen Irzabel’s parents told her, when she wanted to establish a treaty with the magic folk. Peace wasn’t easy to find between us, that’s undeniable, but think about how much better things are than they were a decade ago. Plagues don’t wipe out kingdoms, or even whole villages anymore! Communication between kingdoms is near instantaneous. And if a magic-user goes rogue, we have wards to paint on the walls and shield spells that can be activated. And that’s just the start. More and more things are being implemented daily.

“Now imagine what could happen if we started something new. A woman becomes king. Suddenly, she’s eligible to marry princesses. How many times have kingdoms had to be absorbed into others, losing whole bloodlines and family names because monarchs could only conceive girls? A man becomes a queen—and suddenly middle sons have another fate then being sent off to be knights or settling down with noble girls of lower bloodline.

“Not every tradition needs to be abolished, but… Sometimes change is good.”

Her parents exchanged a look, and while her father looked incredulous, her mother looked contemplative.

Annalise bit back a squeal of glee.

Her father might have been called an immovable stone by their people, but they had never seen him bend beneath her mother’s gaze. Annalise had. Her mother could topple mountains with a look alone, and her father was helpless to it. All these months of biting her tongue had been worth it.

Pick your battles indeed.

“Kali.” Ma’s tone was honed with a finely sharpened edge, and Kali had seen her draw blood with it before anyone even realized that it was poised to strike. As such, Kali was always wary when it was turned on her. “Do you know what I was treated with this morning?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “A very, very irate couple claiming that you had cursed their daughter! What have we said about throwing around curses?”

Kali winced. “Ma, I swear I had a good reason. It was ward-cleansing day. She almost splashed me!”

Ma’s stern edges wavered for a moment. “I’m sure that was terrifying. But, you should have made sure it was an honest attempt on your life before you throw around curses. Particularly ones that affect an entire kingdom.”

Kali’s wince deepened. “I’ll dispel it, I promise. I need to finish a new batch of protection amulets for the store tonight, and then tomorrow, I promised Petra I would head over to hers first thing in the morning to perform a purification ritual. I’ll head back to the castle tomorrow afternoon. The next morning, at the latest. Surely they can wait a day.”

Ma pursed her lips. “Let me guess. Petra’s precious plant absorbed another curse, didn’t it?”

Kali sighed. “Yes. This one was meant to make all of her teeth rot, I think. Or maybe her fingers were supposed to shrivel? Whatever it is, the poor thing is losing vines left and right.”

Ma shook her head. “Mum will take care of it. She can probably set up a renewal charm, to keep the poor thing from almost dying to every minor curse someone casts. And perhaps figure out the source of them. Finish the protection amulets tonight, and then first thing tomorrow morning, you make reparations with the king and queen. Your mother and I are not moving again, do you hear me? We finally have a nice place set up, thanks to that treaty. Don’t go infuriating the monarchy. Bad enough your mother makes a habit of pissing off dragons.”

“Ah. Did she…”

“Steal another trinket from a wyrm? Yes. This one barely has any magical value.” Ma scoffed. “An enchanted coin that glows in the dark. A child’s first enchantment. There was no value in it!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear!” The chimney exploded with light, and Mum ducked out of the fireplace with a beaming grin, soot staining her face. She pulled a vial of flickering flame from her belt. “Dragon’s breath! Not the plant, mind, but the literal thing!” She cackled in glee. “The coin itself was worthless, I’ll admit that—I threw it back on the hoard, by the way, the one I pulled out was just for story purposes. But this. Now this is priceless!” She tucked it back into her belt.

“Couldn’t you have just asked them to breathe flames.”

“Not if I’m translating this spell right,” Mum said airily. “Now, what’s got you all bothered? Other than my usual shenanigans.”

Ma huffed. “Kali cursed the princess. Her parents are more than a bit upset.”

“I’m going to undo it!”

Mum snorted. “The king and queen are a reasonable bunch. More’n you can say about these pesky hoarders. Long as Kali undoes what she started, we’re all in the clear.” She eyed Kali. “What did you curse her with, anyway?”

“Ah. I… might have made it so that she’ll never find a husband. Or a man to fall in love with her, romantically, at all?” Kali winced.

Mum, however, started laughing. Uproariously.

“There’s nothing funny about this!” Ma scowled harder. “That is the kingdom’s future she’s playing with.”

Mum grinned. “Haha, dear. Haven’t you heard? Little Annalise is… haha… gay as they come!”

Ma blinked. “What.”

Mum wiped at her eyes. “Oh, boy. I needed that.” She wiped soot off her cheeks. “It’s all very hush-hush, mind. But sweet little Annalise was caught kissing a baker’s daughter, ‘bout a year back. This was right before she was caught swordfighting on castle grounds. The girl was shipped off to a good culinary school, and Annalise was reminded of her duties as heir to the kingdom, but. Ah. I doubt she was too unhappy about your curse, Kali.” Mum considered a moment. “Her parents, on the other hand, did just finish brokering a marriage for her. Jokes on them, though, cause Theo’s as gay as their daughter is, and I’m pretty sure he’s involved with that knight of his. Being the youngest prince, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just ran off and eloped, to tell you the truth. Your curse will probably give him the nudge, so. Excellent matchmaking, I suppose.”

Ma groaned. “Don’t encourage her!”

“I’m only pointing out the positive happenstance of a bad decision,” Mum retorted, because she had never been one to fear Ma’s wrath. Or much of anything at all, really. Kali thought she’d had too many run ins with dragons. Now everything else seemed mundane in comparison. “Kali, you can’t go around cursing people willy-nilly. That’s how our kind ended up with such a bad reputation to begin with. Time’s done a lot to change that, but I’d rather not regress any, yes?” Mum paused. “Besides, that’s just bad magic casting.”

Kali recoiled. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, daughter-of-mine. What’s the number one rule we have for casting spells? Particularly long-lasting ones.”

Kali frowned. “Do your research.”

“Exactly. Research your spell, especially if it’s one you’re just cobbling together, as most curses tend to be. Research your target. Make sure that the spell is suited for their life—and in this case, it most definitely was not. Or was, in some ways, I suppose. Make sure there isn’t a way you could cast it better, stronger. If you’re going to use magic for it, at least make sure it’s worth it.” Mum flicked her fingers. “Otherwise it’s just a waste of time and mana. And you know how I hate wasting mana. You’re a witch of no little talent, my dear. Don’t squander it because you have a bit of a temper and some power.”

Kali sighed. “Yes, mum. I really am going to undo it, though.”

Mum was the one to hum in thought this time. “Don’t give it any rush. Word on the street is, pretty little Annalise has some lovely ideas for reformation that I would love to see come into play. Would be good for the nation, I think. By all means, go and make your best attempt, but, don’t rush it. Take your time. Make up excuses for why you’re doing so.”

Ma sighed. “This is why we never get invited to the coven meet ups,” she said flatly. “You always want to get involved.”

“What’s the point of having ears if you don’t listen?” Mum wondered. One of her favorite phrases. “I hear things. I put them to use. Longevity has little point if all you do is watch the seasons pass. Are we supposed to stop doing things once we turn fifty? Eighty? I think not! A bit of encouragement here and there is good for the world… so long as you know which things to encourage. Or, rather, which battles to pick.” Mum winked.

Ma rolled her eyes. “And the issue of the matter is, that both of you pick far too many.” She looked at Mum. “Stop picking fights with dragons. You’re going to piss one off enough to attack, and we’re going to be blamed. Ten years is not enough time to get rid of prejudice.” She looked at Kali. “And you stop casting curses every time someone looks at you funny! Turning people’s tongues blue is funny the first time. It’s not funny the second, or any time after that. Nor is it funny to mess with the fate of an entire kingdom. Restraint. Both of you.” She whirled away, presumably to go tend the herb garden, as she always did when she was miffed.

Mum cocked her head to the side.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t your ma once piss off a king by insinuating he was little more than a giant baby unfit for his throne?”

“Yeah. That was ma.”

“I thought so.”

#writeblr #writelr #writers of tumblr #creative writing #amwriting #amwritingfantasy #short stories #short fiction #fantasy fiction #fantasy #original fiction #original writing #original stories #original works #my writing #the curse that failed #original fairy tales