#did i already say i have to remind her who jo is every three seconds

[todayisafridaynight]

Wanna put your friend in a lil terrarium just to see what wacky things she does stg 😂

i actually Cannot Stress the migraine she gives me every time we hang out. like without fail she'll always say or do something that ranges from mildly questionable or irritating but relatively Whatever to How Have You Survived This Long Without Burning Your House Down Boiling An Egg

#snap chats #and then there's her just forgetting things or being late despite the amount of times ill remind her #and i keep stressing to her i cannot stand it when people are late. and then she shows up to things an hour late anyway #or 'when shes late' by fifteen minutes because she didnt think to text me she's there. and im already stressed and annoyed I. UGH i swear. #LIKE. i have only really had two irl friends and both of them i lowkey had to parent in some way #at least my childhood bestie she's like. she's grown a lot and even if i havent spoken to her in a while im real proud of her right #THIS MOTHERFUCKER THO. OUUUUUGGGH.... youre not supposed to say anythin if you dont got nothin nice to say #which is contradictory to the main body text but point is let me Not be any more mean than how ive been already LMAO #even funnier about her looking at that comic is that LITERALLY masumi says he's talking to jo ☠️☠️☠️☠️ #did i already say i have to remind her who jo is every three seconds #like the entirety of chap 2 when ichi's out of jail she was all 'why doesnt he just say who ACTUALLY killed the guy' #and then when we finally run into the fuckass who 'actually killed the guy' she's just 'wait who's that' #then i tell her and shes like 'oh my god he's so old now' IT'S BEEN 18 YEARS DUMBASS #ngl did wanna make a comic based off that LMAO BUT POINT IS she tests my patience every day and i think its good practice #if im going to work with people in the future like ohh.. my god.... #she told me once she's never been on a date and its like. yeah i wonder why you can't even be assed to show up on time to hangouts ☠️ #like ive never had friends so maybe im just insane.. im not insane for wanting people to be on time tho.... #OK IM BEING TOO MEAN LET ME CAP IT THERE

[whositmcwhatsit]

Glimmers of Dawn

AN: This is a belated birthday present for one of my favourite people @ellie-24. I have been promising her a BDE fic for months and this is the beginning of one at least? As our guy once said: "I hope you like it. It doesn't make much difference."

“This is crazy! Are you sure we’re allowed?” 

Steve rolled his eyes at her like he did this every day, like it was nothing. But if it was nothing, he would not have suggested it. 

_______________________________________________________

Aurora had been sliding on her denim jacket at the bar, ready to go home to Johnny Carson and the dried out meatloaf that her mother had been cooking when she had ducked home after work to change. She had already given in to Joanne’s plea to stay for another round and that had left her with nothing but a numb butt from sitting perched on the bar stool while she watched her friend flirt with the tall, shaggy-haired guy at the pool table. Now the guy was draped over Jo’s back as she giggled and lined up a shot, pretending to miscue so that he could ‘correct’ her. 

Aurora gave Jo a little wave to get her attention over the heavy rock playing over the tinny speakers and then thumbed towards the door, making the phone and time gestures to let her know she would call her later. 

“You’re not leaving so soon?” asked one of the other guys playing pool. He was tall too, and broad shouldered but athletic looking with it and had a mustache to go with this long brown hair. 

“Yeah, it’s getting late and I got things to do in the morning,” Aurora said apologetically. “It was nice meeting you though… Steve, wasn’t it?” 

“I can’t talk you into one last, teeny tiny drink?” She paused, considering. The thought of the meatloaf wasn’t exactly appetizing and it wouldn’t be the first time she showed up on a Sunday morning to take her grandmother to church on a whisper of sleep. She relented, but then the bartender reminded Steve that he had called last orders ten minutes ago and no amount of wheedling or good natured threats could change his mind. 

“Forget it, man!” called the guy who was currently taking a break from inspecting Jo’s tonsils. “Let’s just go up to the house.” 

“Naw, you sure? The Boss-”

“Won’t even know anything about it. He ain’t come down in three days, man, in more ways ‘n’ one.” 

Aurora frowned questioningly at Joanne, who shrugged back as the two men worked it out, and suddenly they were leaving the bar. 

“So, where exactly are we going?” Aurora asked, as she and Steve followed Jo and Dave, his name turned out to be, into the parking lot. She could feel Steve nervously eyeing her as they watched Dave sling his arm casually around Jo’s shoulders and stick his tongue in her ear. She had already prepared a sharp elbow in the ribs in case Steve got the same idea. 

“Uh, the place where I work has a pool room and a bar.” 

“You work in a bar?” She was trying to figure out why he was being so cagey. Wondering if maybe he was embarrassed, but that didn’t make sense if he was going to take her there. 

“No, it ain’t… It ain’t a bar.” 

Even as she was climbing past the folded seat into the back of Dave’s Datsun, Aurora was having second thoughts. The cool night air had cleared her buzzing head and chased off the last of the energy powering her limbs after a full day of work. She started preparing her speech for when they got to where they were going, so she could call a cab and head home, with or without Joanne. 

‘Look, it’s nothing personal’, she would say. ‘I just had a really long day.’

And then the Datsun turned right on the highway at the gates of Graceland.

“What are you-?!” Aurora gripped the headrest of the driver’s seat in front. “Are you kidding? God, I don't have time for this.” 

Fooling around and trying to break into Elvis Presley’s house was for kids and tourists. If these guys thought it was going to impress her, she would be glad to correct them. 

The gates opened. 

“Are you sure we’re allowed?” she asked again, staring at the  lights ahead and trying not to catch the eyes of the smattering of people standing outside the gates even at this hour.

Someone was sure to realise that they were not supposed to be there and they would be stopped. She wondered if the security guards really did have guns like the stories said. All sorts of crazies probably wanted to try and hurt a huge star like Elvis; there could be FBI snipers in the trees. 

“It’s okay,” Steve said finally, though his tight jaw didn’t exactly make him seem convincing.

The way that Dave shushed Joanne when she was laughing and squealing with excitement about seeing inside Elvis’ house also didn’t fill Aurora with a huge amount of confidence. 

It seemed deathly quiet and still as they went in the back. Aurora thought there should have been music, maybe ‘Hound Dog’ playing on a jukebox like they were stepping into one of his movies. Her aunt Phyllis would be green with envy that she was there. 

The guys crowded them in so it was hard to see exactly where ‘there’ was. Muted lighting, stairs, a lot of wood, and then a… a tent? 

“So, where's Elvis?!” Joanne asked, as they took in the busy pleated material sweeping out from the ceiling and draping down the walls surrounding the pool table. 

It made Aurora feel like she was trapped in her bed covers. She took in a strangled breath to reassure herself that she still could. Meanwhile, Joanne bent at the waist to check under the pool table- God, how much had she had to drink?!- as if Elvis could be lying in wait under there. 

“You think he'd sing ‘Don't be Cruel’ for me? That was my favorite when I was little.”

“He's probably sick of singing it,” Aurora told her, grabbing Jo's arm and shoving her sideways onto a sofa before she broke something and the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll had them in court for millions of dollars. 

Their secret out in the open, the guys seemed eager to tell them about their jobs and all the dangers and intrigue it entailed. It wasn’t all fetching and carrying, they assured the girls, there were some real bad guys out there who wanted to get a shot at Elvis and they were the reason that these bad motherfuckers had never got their shot. 

“You know a head honcho of the FBI said Elvis has better protection than the President,” Dave remarked, just before he potted the cue ball and swore under his breath. 

“Yeah? You ever meet the President?” Joanne asked, rolling her eyes at Aurora behind her hands. 

“No… No, the Boss did, though, more than one.” 

“Must’ve been when you weren’t on duty,” Joanne murmured. “Seriously, where is he, your boss? Isn’t he home? He’s gotta be home if you’re here, right?” 

“He likes to relax upstairs after he gets back from a tour,” Dave mumbled, racking up the pool table. “Things can get pretty intense.”

“I bet,” Joanne giggled. “All those mamas and grannies throwing their girdles at him.”

“Jo!” Aurora elbowed her and flashed an apologetic smile at the two guys.. “Sorry, a little beer on an empty stomach goes straight to her head. Can we maybe get some water?” 

The guys exchanged looks again, and Steve sighed and shrugged, glancing up at a camera with a little red light on it that Aurora hadn’t noticed before. 

“Sure, no problem. Follow me.” Aurora nodded and smiled, glancing back over her shoulder to watch Dave drop down into her space beside Joanne on the sofa. 

“I’m sorry about Jo. She just gets over excited, she doesn’t mean nothing by it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve replied as they climbed the stairs. “You hungry? They can make pretty much anything you want in the kitchen.” 

Aurora followed him into a sleek, modern kitchen, all patterns and walnut. It was like walking around a maze. She had no idea where she had come from, nor where she was going, but she was vibrating with amazement that she had finally made it inside the house on the hill. 

The next time she drove past on the way to the mall she would be able to imagine what was going on inside. She could think of about fifteen customers at the salon whose toes would curl with jealousy when she told them. 

There were two ladies in the kitchen, their pale matching uniforms, the only plain, unpatterned material Aurora had seen in the house so far, were stark against their skin. Aurora could feel her cheeks burning, waiting for them to point out that she shouldn’t be there and call security, but they barely paid her any mind. 

Imagine having people whose job it was to just sit in your kitchen waiting for you to want a snack at one am! Aurora did catch one of the ladies glancing at her, her face unreadable, but her thoughts not impossible to imagine. She knew she was out of place, there but for the grace of Steve in her cut off jean shorts and her thrift store spaghetti strap blouse, staring starry-eyed at the glimmering glass or maybe crystal in the glass-fronted cupboards as sizzling sounds started coming from the stove. She could feel herself getting smaller, tucking in her edges and minding her manners, making less of herself so that she would be less of a blight. 

“Well, what do we have here?” 

The voice was soft and unmistakable, whether it was on the radio, in movie theaters, or in a strange kitchen in the middle of the night. 

Everyone immediately whipped around to look, but Aurora’s brain instead made her freeze on the kitchen stool. It told her that she couldn’t turn and face Elvis Presley with her mouth full. For some reason that seemed the ultimate violation.

So, she chewed and chewed the suddenly vulcanized bread as the seconds stretched into decades. Finally, when it had become too weird, she tried to force the ball of dough down her throat and ended up almost choking, swilling it down with a frantic gulp of water. 

“Steve, son, if you’re gonna sneak pretty girls into my house at least don’t try and kill ‘em in my kitchen. It’s, uh, bad for business.” 

A warm weight rested on her shoulder and squeezed as she looked up through watery eyes at Elvis Presley, up close in person. Her brain couldn’t take it all in at once, just fragments like the black hair, the sideburns, the gold aviator sunglasses, the smile… Even with her airway clear, Aurora was not exactly breathing. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She watched the familiar pillowy lips move as the words filled her ears, not completely in sync. His hand on her shoulder, his cologne in her nose, it was a fully immersive experience and she had already been finding it hard enough to comprehend standing in his kitchen. 

“Yeah, it went down the wrong way,” she heard someone say, and it kind of sounded like her. 

“Well, honey, looking at that ugly mug over there was always gonna give you indigestion. Nothing personal, Steve, you just got that look-” He laughed a little to himself. “Liable to give this young lady heartburn or something, you know.” 

Steve stood awkwardly on his other side like he was trying to gauge the mood, trying to figure out whether it was time for an explanation or an apology, and Aurora was trying to feel bad for him, but all she could feel was Elvis’ hand still on her shoulder, and the sleeve of his jacket brushing against her skin. There was pressure there, like he was leaning on her a little, and she tried to stay still when her pounding heart was telling her to try and run.  

“What’s your name, darlin’?” He pulled off his sunglasses and stumbled back a little, pretending that the low lighting of the kitchen was blinding, rubbing his slightly puffy eyes, before they narrowed as they fixed on her. Then it was Aurora who felt like squinting, trying to take it all in. 

“I’m Aurora,” she said. Then, for some reason she thought it might make things better somehow if she added, “You have a lovely home.” As if she was an invited guest coming over for iced tea on the porch. She was such an idiot. 

“Well, thank you, Aurora. Aurora, is that right?” 

Her name was a little unwieldy in his mouth, like he couldn’t quite get his tongue around it. Her face burst into flames as soon as she thought about his tongue. 

Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, seeing as he was turning to berate Steve a little more, pointing out that at least she had some manners, unlike some people. 

Elvis had gray in his sideburns, Aurora noticed, as her muscles stiffened in the tense atmosphere and she was unable to look away. It made sense, he had been about her age when he first got famous, and that had been… a while. But it was still weird to think about Elvis going gray. She couldn’t picture him as an old man. In fact, the idea made her a little sad. But then the alternative would be worse. 

“Child,” he intoned suddenly, interrupting whatever he had been saying to put Steve in his place, and turning back to her with a twinkle in his eye, “you have gotta lower the beams on those pretty eyes of yours, they are practically melting my face off!” 

And that, more than the gray roots and the stumbling over her name, helped Aurora’s perspective click back into focus. The fancy furniture and the maids and the cooks and the Elvis-ness of him had turned her head for a while, made her feel off kilter, but she knew this dance very well.. 

“Well, it’s not like I can help it when you’re standing so close to me!” she retorted playfully. “You’re not made of glass you know!” 

The crooked smile crept across his face like the tide coming in and she felt herself slipping beneath the waves, drowning.

“You got some nerve, honey, I’ll give you that,” he said, shaking his head. “How ‘bout you finish eating my food and I’ll give you a real tour of this old place?”

“Look, if it means so much to you, you can have the rest of the sandwich,” she said, her careful, watchful eyes belying her teasing, irreverent tone. She knew she was in dangerous territory, her mama would have hissed a warning and cuffed her across the back of the head for being so rude, but the light that glittered in his heavy lidded eyes when she gave him some sass was too enticing to ignore. She didn’t think that too many people dared to tease Elvis Presley and that made her feel a little bad for him.  

In response, he gently ‘snatched’ the glass of water she was clutching and turned it until his luscious lips were in the same place hers had been, taking a sip. She somehow froze while also melting at the same time at the glittering challenge in his gaze and the faint twitch of his eyebrow. In that moment, she realized that she had vastly miscalculated how evenly matched they were in this battle. 

Luckily, she was rescued by Joanne, who had found her way upstairs and came reeling slightly into the kitchen, clutching Aurora’s jacket, and mumbling that she wanted to go home. She got as far as knocking into Aurora’s back before- and Aurora was never going to let her forget it- she shrieked:

“Oh Elvis! Oh shit!” 

Without context, it would have been impossible to tell whether she had caught sight of Elvis or a mouse running across the floor. What made it funnier was the complete non-reaction of Elvis himself, and the way that he locked eyes with Aurora for a long second, as if to say, ‘See what I have to deal with?’

Then he was introducing himself to Joanne, shaking her limp hand and saying he was pleased to meet her like it was all prearranged and they hadn’t effectively broken into his house in the middle of the night. 

Oh Elvis, oh shit, Aurora’s brain said helpfully, Elvis Presley is a nice guy. 

Sitting in his kitchen, trying to hold a loud, flailing Joanne with one arm and not failing to notice how uncomfortable Dave and Steve looked, Aurora began to feel grimy. It was one thing to take a peek at how the other half live, to get a glimpse of a rarefied existence, but it was another thing to barge in, do questionable things on the couch and make yourself a sandwich. The goldilocks giddiness had soured into shame. 

“So, um,” she began as she stepped backwards over her stool like the world’s clumsiest cowgirl, “we’re really sorry for trespassing…” She still couldn’t bring herself to say his name out loud. “And we should probably get going.”

“Well now, wait a damn minute, honey, I promised you a tour, and by God, that’s what you’re gonna get!” This time, she didn’t giggle on cue.

Aurora wasn’t clever, but she was smart. She might not have read fancy long books, but she knew people and she knew men, best of all. Her mama made sure of that, because she didn’t want her to end up the same way, fooled by some good looking lying man who looked good in a fancy borrowed suit. 

It occurred to her, as she watched Dave and Steve share yet another long look, that this could all be some elaborate trick. It wasn’t like she and Joanne had asked the guys to bring them to Graceland, hadn’t twisted their arms, hadn’t even known they worked there before they brought it up. And the two guys had barely debated it before they were all suddenly getting into the cars. 

What if it was a set-up? What if Dave and Steve did this regularly, went out trolling for girls to bring back for their boss? What if she had walked into some weird situation straight out of the Hollywood gossip magazines?

“I have to get home,” she said, fumbling for excuses, “I gotta get up early to take my grandma to church and I have a couple of clients after that.” 

“Clients?” She didn’t understand his strange tone, but she simmered under his appraising eye, and instinctively held her jacket in front of her like it could transform into a pair of baggy pants. 

“She’s a hairdresser, she cuts hair,” Steve said sulkily, defensively. 

It felt like there were twelve different conversations going on in fifty different languages and it was too late and Aurora was too tired to deal with it all. It had been a fun adventure, but now it was time to go home. 

“Well, you know, I've been needing a haircut myself,” Elvis remarked with a strange, sly grin on his face, looking at Steve, who was irritably shuffling his feet against the carpet. “What do you say, honey?” 

“Your hair looks fine,” she replied, before turning to Steve and raising her eyebrows in a silent plea.

“No, really, if it gets any longer I’ll start looking like one of those weirdo freaks this one listens to,” Elvis joked, nodding towards Dave with his Led Zeppelin t-shirt stretched tight across his chest. “Nice guys, but complete weirdos, man.” 

Aurora was pretty sure that nobody was about to get Elvis Presley and the guys from Led Zeppelin mixed up, but saying so would have taken her over that line from light teasing to downright unkindness that she would never cross. 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t got my kit with me and I’m so tired, I don’t think I should be trusted with scissors.” 

“I’ll go start the car,” Steve said, turning towards the kitchen door. 

“No! Now, hold up, man, nobody’s going nowhere ‘til I say so. S’cuse me for a minute, ladies, I think I need to have a word here with these so-called employees of mine.” Elvis’ tone was aggravated, like he was working hard to keep it even, behaving for company.

Joanne and Aurora looked at one another, shrugged, and stepped past the door that led down to the basement and found themselves in the red carpeted foyer, looking towards the front door. They listened carefully, but could only hear murmuring from back in the kitchen. 

Joanne squeezed her arm and pulled a triumphant face, hissing, “Fucking Elvis, man!”

“Shh, they might hear you.” Aurora occupied herself with staring up at the chandelier, watching the way the light was reflected back on the glass walls. She couldn’t imagine living in a house that had a chandelier. She wondered if Elvis ever marveled on it since he had grown up just as poor as her, maybe even more so. 

“You think he thought we were call girls?” Joanne asked, moving to lean against the staircase and resting her head on the banisters. She yawned wide enough to show the fillings 

in her back teeth. “When you said ‘clients’ they all got this weird look. Maybe he wants you to cut his hair to test your story.”

“I ain’t cutting anyone’s hair, I’m dead on my feet,” Aurora grumbled. 

“Not even if he offers you a thousand dollars?”

“Well, maybe for a thousand dollars.” She sleepily contemplated what she would spend a thousand dollars on. She wondered how much a chandelier cost. 

“Hell, for a thousand dollars I’d pretend to be the call girl!” They both snorted and giggled, before sighing into the still peace of the foyer. 

“He looks a little different from the movies though,” Joanne observed. “He’s got… heavier.” 

“Yeah,” Aurora conceded with a shrug. “Still Elvis though.” She giggled. “‘Oh Elvis! Oh Shit!’”  

“Shut up!” Joanne groaned, donking her head against one of the banisters. “I bet you didn’t come out with anything deep or profound when you saw him.” 

Aurora’s throat was still a little sore from where she had forced a fistful of bread through it while choking, but she kept that to herself. 

Finally, Dave shuffled out to let them know they could return from exile and led them back into an empty kitchen. When he spoke, he sounded annoyed and Aurora wondered if he had got a ticking off from Elvis too. Maybe it hadn’t been a set up after all. 

“C’mon.” He nodded towards a set of the stairs that curled up round a wall in the corner of the room. 

“Where?” she countered. 

“Look, just cut his fucking hair a little, all right? Pretend if you have to, we’ll be heading out on tour soon and he’ll have his hairdresser do it properly then anyway.” 

Aurora looked at the staircase and thought about getting back into the Datsun and going home. She thought about telling the ladies at the salon about her weekend, the way they would say, ‘And what happened then?!’ And she would have to finish her surreal recount with, ‘Then I chickened out and went home.’ 

That would be a lame ending to the story. 

And so she found herself leaning in front of Elvis Presley, examining his wet bangs as she ran them through the comb, scissors clutched in hand, standing in the most outrageously opulent bathroom she had ever seen. 

“You shouldn’t wrinkle your forehead like that, you know, honey,” he observed, his breath tickling the column of her throat. “You’ll look old before your time.”

Her frown shifted from one of concentration to intense control, trying to stop herself from shivering because it felt like he was murmuring into her ear. 

“My face does what it wants,” she replied finally, snipping the tiniest fragment of an inch. “I don’t have too much of a say in it. Keeps me honest, otherwise who knows what I’d be doing instead of cutting hair day and, apparently night now too.” 

They had negotiated down to just trimming the bangs, and now that she was confronted with his mass of fine hair, she was grateful. Everyone knew that half the teen population back in the day had flipped their lids when they cut off Elvis’ hair in the army. Aurora didn’t want to become the target of those same women today, stronger, smarter, and old enough to own handguns.

“What would you be instead, if you could choose?” She made the mistake of looking at his face when he asked. It was a trap. Framed by dark, weary shadows, the murky blue of his eyes had all but swallowed up the pupil and it felt like they were looking at something within her, somewhere she didn’t even want to let people know existed.  

“I don’t know. If you ask my memaw, there are only a few careers a girl can have with a name like mine. I picked the most respectable. There we go, all done.”

“What kind of name is Aurora anyway?” Searching, his damn eyes were searching and she couldn’t seem to distract him.

“I don’t exactly think we should be making fun of people’s names, Elvis. Especially not when some of us are holding scissors.” He snorted and laughed to himself. It sounded so young and silly that she knew it was real. 

“Aurora means dawn or light. You know the Northern Lights? Those squiggly colorful lights up in the North Pole? Their real name is Aurora Borealis. And you know, Sleeping Beauty’s name was Aurora.” 

It was the well worn explanation she had been trotting out since she was knee high to a cricket, not that it ever made any difference to the bemused, baffled or disdainful faces of the gangs of kids or customers at her father’s store that demanded she explain herself. 

She caught sight of Elvis’ reflection studying her, but not in the way that he had been before, the way that men often studied her, appraising and pricing her up like her daddy did with cans of soup. No, this was a different kind of look. 

“Dawn,” he murmured, his gaze seeming to look past her. “Sleeping…Beauty… Might be something to this…” His eyes seemed to click back into focus and he smiled at her, that crooked smirk that everyone in the world imagined in their head when someone said the name Elvis Presley. “It’s pretty, sweetheart, I was just kiddin’.”

When she followed him out of the bathroom, he mumbled, “Think fast!” And before she could even decipher his words, she was catching the tiger statue he had tossed at her. It was heavy enough it could have probably cracked her skull if she hadn’t caught it. 

“Whoa, was the haircut that bad that you had to try and kill me?!”

“No, honey, it was fine, but it’s like you, you see.” She could tell something corny was coming from the silly little grin and the way he paused to laugh at himself. “It’s a roarer.” She groaned, but giggled as he laughed, his brows knitted together in a pained acknowledgement of how corny he had been. 

“Woo, well, it’s lucky you’re pretty,” Aurora replied, doing what she thought was a damn fine impression of her grandma, who always said it like it was. 

When Elvis snorted a little, but didn’t say anything else, she wondered if she had caught him off guard and made him a little bashful. She made a show of giving the ceramic tiger a scritch under the chin like it was a pussy cat and then went to hand it back. 

“No, no,” he replied, waving his hand. “It’s yours, honey, you caught it. Them’s the rules.”

“Well, thank you… You know, it puts a whole new perspective on those folks you gave cars to. They probably belong in a circus.” He didn’t reply, just sat down on his bed and shuffled back against the pillows, picking up one of the books that lay strewn across the comforter. 

Not knowing quite what she was supposed to do, she petted the tiger under her arm and started edging towards the door. If she couldn’t make a glamorous exit, she could at least minimize the awkwardness of it. 

“Hey, you know…” Her eyes fixed on him as she did her little side shuffle, she saw him glance up from his book and his expression go from open to frowning. “Where you goin’?”

I thought we were… I thought you were waiting for me to leave.” He shook his head, looking slightly irritated, and then patted the bed heavily by his legs. 

Aurora thought of Steve waiting downstairs and then shrugged, walking over to the bed. You didn’t ignore an Elvis for a Steve. She perched on the edge of his bed and watched as he rooted around on his nightstand, sliding on a pair of gold framed glasses and shooting her a sheepish look. 

“The lightning of the Word will illumine the abysses.

New, new, new ones, beautiful ones, sensitive ones, 

Exalted ones, will be assembled.

The Teacher has entrusted thee to manifest Him.” He read it like poetry or scripture and it sounded dramatic and lovely to Aurora’s ears, but then he stopped and he looked at her like she was supposed to do or say something. It was like standing at the front of the class on book report day with nothing in her hands. Her face burned all the way back to her ears. 

“You ever heard anything like that before, honey?” he asked finally, his eyes back to scanning the text, leaving her to writhe in her ignorance and humiliation. 

“No, I don’t think so.” She looked longingly at the black padded door standing open and then down at her tanned toes, half submerged in the thick red shag pile carpet as if her sandals weren’t even there. “I was never too good in school.”

“School,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You don’t learn nothing worth knowing in school. I mean no disrespect to the teachers, but-” He sighed loudly. “You know most people use but one percent of their brains, one percent! Just focussing on the Mickey Mouse shit, uh, workin’ and paying the bills and having a good time, coveting their fuckin’ neighbor’s whatever… Never knowing what’s really important.” 

Aurora stared at him as he continued his diatribe, a little impressed at how he weaved in foulmouthed quotes from the Bible. Nobody was going to believe this was how she spent her Saturday night.

“I’ve been studying all this a long time, it takes discipline and dedication. Honey, why don’t you come on up here and get comfortable?” He gestured to the space beside him on the pillows, the space usually occupied by glamorous models and beauty queens, one of whom was beaming with fierce intensity at her from a framed picture on the dark wood unit against the wall. 

“Um, can I bring Muffin?” He lifted an eyebrow and she tilted the tiger she still had tucked into her hip. “I named him Muffin.” 

“Well, I was talking to Muffin anyhow, but I guess he can bring you.” He shook his head, his cheekbones brimming as he smirked and watched her shuck her sandals and clamber up gracelessly from the bottom of the bed. “You’re kinda silly.” He leant forward and gave her a lightning fast kiss on the lips, just warm and wet and gone. “I like that.” 

And then he read to her, for over an hour. Sleepily leaning against the pillow, Aurora slid her finger underneath the stretchy strap of her watch as it was pressing into her skin. Her eyes caught sight of the time and she pushed herself up, feeling a little dazed and dizzy. 

Having sunk back into his pillows too, Elvis was still reading, his voice barely above a whisper and he didn’t seem to notice her sitting up. Tentatively, she reached out and touched his arm and then said his name. It took him a beat or two to register the interruption. 

“It’s getting really late,” she said apologetically. “I think I should go find Steve, he’s my ride home.” 

“Aw, honey, he went, he’s gone.” 

Aurora smiled anxiously, not sure if he was joking. “He better not be. It’s a long walk back to my house.” 

“I’ll have someone take you home, don’t worry about that,” he murmured, his words slipping and sliding together.

“Well, It’s getting pretty late,” she said again. 

He lowered his book and went to say something, but seemingly changed his mind. Instead, he reached over with a grunt and picked up the phone, gruffly asking who was on duty. Aurora busied herself with slipping back into her shoes and hefting Muffin back onto her hip. 

Elvis put down the receiver of the red phone and climbed off the bed. 

“I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay with you?” The way he said it was oddly formal and solemn, a complete contrast to the way he had teasingly beckoned her onto his bed earlier. It threw her enough that she forgot to be overwhelmed.

“Sure!” She cringed inwardly at how high pitched her voice sounded and tried to clear her throat discreetly. 

“Let me take down your number and I'll call you.” 

Elvis rifled through the contents of his nightstand and snatched up a pen and then, with a shrug, opened the front cover of his book.

It was about then that Aurora's brain caught up with the situation and her hand shook as she reached for the pen and scrawled ‘Aurora + Muffin’ alongside her number on the inside cover of his book. When she handed it back, he teased her by turning the book upside as he squinted at it. 

“What is this, hieroglyphics?!” 

And Aurora laughed goodnaturedly, even though she had been teased her whole time at school for her poor penmanship and inability to improve it. She laughed even though, as a rule, she never let anyone get away with making fun of the things she couldn’t change. Something about him defused all those defenses designed to detonate on a hair trigger. 

Aurora felt Elvis follow her to the bedroom door without seeing him. It was a weird feeling, like wearing a heavy cape made of ice. She was almost afraid to check in case it all evaporated like a dream and she woke up in her pilling pink blankets and worn rosebud sheets. 

The heavy, warm hand that came to rest on her shoulder was a surprise and a reassurance then, as she felt him turn her. She took a step back, since he was that much taller and they were standing so close together that she was face to face with the dip at the base of his throat, able with microscopic clarity to see the way his golden chest hair curled behind the thick gold chain he was wearing with the strange symbol that looked to her eyes like a musical note with extra parts. 

“Um, sorry,” she murmured, looking away, even though he had been the one to crowd her. He smiled softly, angling his head and pressing his soft full lips against hers. She jolted, almost choking again, and saved herself by grabbing hold of him, clutching at his waist, thick but firm, with her free hand and pressing in against him. His lips were soft and lush, like no other man’s she had kissed before. They tickled and teased, and sent shivers that spread down her spine and radiated through her body. 

When his tongue first brushed and then slid against hers, she let out a little whine that had him huffing a laugh and drawing back, his hand cradling her jaw.  

“You sure you gotta go, baby?” he asked softly in that low, intimate voice that made her legs quiver. “We could just sleep, you know. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t try anything.”

“I trust you,” she replied, though she wasn’t sure she did. “It’s me I don’t trust.” Which was one hundred percent true.

He pulled her in again by her chin, but she still wasn’t ready as they both exhaled in playful frustration. She nibbled on his ripe bottom lip even as she was pulling away. 

Aurora made it to the outer door that led to the stairs before he called her back. 

“Hey Tiger!” She let her shoulders and face slump with indignation as she realized she had answered to the silly name. “We’re going to see each other again, sweetheart.” She smiled at the previously unimaginable picture she was walking away from- Elvis Presley framed by the light in a doorway, his hair rumpled and tousled (her fault) and his mouth wet and swollen (even more her fault). “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find.” 

“Sure.” Frowning a little through her smile, she nodded and turned back to the stairs. Was he talking about himself or was he talking about her? Maybe he was talking about Muffin. She hefted the tiger a little higher under her arm and clumped down the stairs, blearily opening the front door to greet the dawn. 

@thatbanditqueen, @vintageshanny, @be-my-ally @lookingforrainbows, @from-memphis-with-love, @peskybedtime

#elvis presley #big daddy elvis #elvis x oc #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #70s elvis #whositmcwhatsit #elvis presley fanfiction

[daechwitatamic]

okay i just woke up, i am uncaffeinated but let's liveblog this thing.

disclaimer that I am an american english-speaker and I am using translations found online and also probably miss MANY references (that I can't wait to read about when people smarter than me start posting them!!!!)

Yun - I threw myself on the ground over the FIRST LINE jaisjfkahf omfg listen to himmmm i am ruined my life is over. My favorite lyric is "A finger pointed at a mountain, saying that's where I need to go next" - it reminds me of the lyric from The Dirty Projectors "on top of every mountain there was a great longing - for another, even higher mountain"... about always having your eyes on what's next, never being satisfied with what you accomplished already. Fifteen stars, will keep this one in the rotation for a long, long, long time.

Still Life - I love how many of his rhymes in this one hop between languages! (which is the sign of a genius but wbk)

All Day - oh i'm gonna be singin his "oh-kay" in the car asjfhaskjfhajksfhjasfh is "they've got you by your balls and your socioeconomics" actually the lyric?!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm screaming. i hate him and i love him hahahahaha WE GOT DYNAMITE IN OUR DNA STFUUUUU I'M SOBBING ON MY COUCH AT 6AM

Forg_tful - screaming in the first three seconds again this sound is afksnuakhfkjafh omggg???????? i love it i love it i love it i love it. omg it's so pretty omg.

Closer - ahhhhh the sound is so goood!!!!!! i love this one!!

Change pt 2 - did he sneak in a little agust d reference there or am i crazy? ALSO THIS BEAT WHAT THE FUUUUCK i love ittt

Lonely - poor babie :( :( :( i'll call you, joonie, send the digits

Hectic - I actually almost like Colde's verse best in this one?! i feel like a traitor lolllll

Wildflowers - look, I fuckin' predicted that I would make this track my entire life and i did not lie. This is who i am not. Jo is no more. omfg. these lyrics. "Nights the beating of my heart kept me up / The mournful crescent moon hung beyond the window" NAMJOON MARRY ME. "Amongst the flowers without names / I can't go to the stars again, I can't" i get goosebumps the second this track starts like it is EVERYTHING.

NO. 2 - love this one too!!!!! her voice is great!

OKAY top tracks for me are Wildflowers obv, Yun, Forg_tful, Closer, and Change pt 2!

i FULLY can't catch up on my dash today so if you had thoughts, poke me!!!

#indigo

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 10

You were packing up your stuff as students filed out of the lecture hall, it was your last class of the day. As you were walking out towards the parking lot, your phone started to vibrate in your bag. It was the school.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hi Y/N. It’s Mrs. Flynn. I was just calling to let you know that Jo is now waiting inside with me because she was getting cold outside,” she informed you.

“Spencer’s not there?” you questioned, looking at the time displayed on your phone.

Pickup time was fifteen minutes ago.

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Sorry for the inconvenience,” you opened your car door and set your bag down in the passenger seat, turning on the ignition.

“No worries, I have to reorganize the classroom library anyways so I was already planning on staying after.”

Once the call ended, you tried to call Spencer but it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey Spencer, I don’t know if you forgot but it was your day to pick up Jo. I’m getting her now,” you said as you reversed out of your parking spot.

Minutes later, your phone rang again. Expecting Spencer’s contact to show up on screen, your brow furrowed when the name read “JJ” instead.

“Hi JJ?” you said, more of a question than a greeting.

“Y/N, Spencer has been shot. I already told Will to go back to the school to pick up Jo. You should get here if you can. He’s in surgery now but there has been no update since he went in,” JJ explained.

“Oh my god. Okay, I’m turning around now. How did this happen? He didn’t mention he was on a case?” you pulled into a random parking lot to turn around.

“Well technically, we weren’t. We had a lead on a possible local case and we went to interview a potential witness who could give us some more information. We realized too late that he was the unsub. He thought we were on to him and shot Spencer in the leg while trying to escape.”

You had silent tears running down your face.

“I’m five minutes out” is all you could muster and then you hung up the phone.

You ran into the ER doors to find the rest of the team in the waiting room. You were glad you went to Rossi’s dinner party now or else this would have been a much more awkward first meeting.

“Any updates?” you asked frantically.

“No,” Derek sighed, “But no news is good news.”

You took the empty seat in between JJ and Penelope and put your face in your hands, not wanting everyone to see your tears.

-

Two hours of crappy coffee and vending machine snacks as your only source of sustenance later, a doctor emerged from behind the double doors.

She had a completely neutral expression that you couldn’t read but then again you weren’t a profiler.

“Dr. Spencer Reid?” she asked, glancing down at her clipboard.

All of you stood and desperately crowded around her.

“Dr. Reid is in stable condition and awake. The bullet went into his thigh but it wasn’t through and through. He will need to be on crutches for about a week or so but luckily the bullet wound is near the edge of his thigh rather than the middle, meaning recovery time will be shorter,” she explained.

There was a collective sigh of relief along with a few “thank god”s.

“Although he is awake, I don’t think it’s best if you all go in at once since he is very drowsy. He has been asking for a Y/N?” the doctor looked around at you all.

All eyes fell on you. You collected yourself, grabbing your purse and following the doctor down the hall.

“I’ll let you know how he is,” you told everyone before you disappeared past the double doors.

The doctor guided you into a room at the end of the hall. You thanked her quietly and she nodded in acknowledgement, leaving you two alone. Spencer had his eyes closed but his hospital bed was inclined so he was sitting up slightly. You briskly walked over and took the seat right beside him. You took his hand in yours and squeezed it lightly, combing his messy hair out with your fingers.

As you were softly massaging his scalp, you heard a light groan. You retracted your fingers immediately as Spencer began to open his eyes.

Once Spencer took in his surroundings, he quickly sat up completely in bed, letting out a yelp of pain.

“Jo...it was my turn to pick up,” he said frantically.

“Hey, look at me, Spence. It’s okay, she’s at JJ and Will’s. You were shot in the thigh though so you’re not going anywhere. Please lie back down,” you assured him.

He nodded his head, relaxing a bit and looking down at his hands in his lap. He seemed to be processing something in his head.

“You called me ‘Spence’,” he stated.

Shit. That was twice now. It keeps slipping.

“Sorry, I-,” you began to ramble some apology that you didn’t even know where you were going with it. Luckily, he stopped you before you could further embarrass yourself.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he spoke softly as he looked up at you, tears threatening to fall.

“I was so scared, Y/N,” he sobbed.

You swiftly pulled him into your embrace, tucking his head into your neck as you began to gently stroke his hair again.

“It’s okay, let it out. I can’t imagine what that was like. I’m so sorry you had to go through that but you're safe now, I promise,” you whispered to him.

“I was so afraid I was going to abandon you and Jo again. It hurt worse than the actual bullet,” he muttered into your neck.

You removed your hands from his hair and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look up at you.

“Spencer Reid, you did not abandon Jo in the first place so there is no ‘again’. Second of all, you would have died a hero saving lives and I would have made sure Jo knew that and she never forgot her Daddy or how much he loved her,” you spoke earnestly, never breaking eye contact.

Spencer’s eyes softened. A second later, his lips were on yours again. This time, however, you didn’t pull away. Life was too short and this was already complicated as is, what’s the harm.

You basked in the familiarity of his lips locking with yours. Once he finally pulled away for air, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Go out with me. A real date. No more college dorm dates with takeout,” he smiled.

“You know you didn’t have to get shot to ask me out, right?” you teased.

“I thought I needed a grand gesture,” he beamed, chucking lightly.

“Yeah, Spence, I’ll go on a date with you.”

His lips found yours once again.

-

“Jo, are you ready?” you called out from the kitchen, packing snacks.

“Mommy, I’m already at the door!” she exclaimed.

Jo was eager to go see her Daddy at the hospital. You would spend the day there until he was discharged and then he would live with you guys for the week. You insisted on being there to take care of him while he was healing. You didn’t want him hobbling around all alone in his apartment.

When you walked out to the front entryway, there was a stack of various toys and books that hadn’t been there when you came down the stairs.

“What is this?” you gestured to the pile, amused.

“Daddy has big boo-boo so he needs stuff to cheer him up,” she stated.

“I don’t think we are going to be able to bring all this. Plus, remember Daddy is coming home with us later today. So here’s what we will do,” you handed Jo her dinosaur backpack, “You pack all the stuff you can fit in this bag that you think Daddy needs right away and the rest of the stuff can wait.”

Jo made quick work of sorting through her massive pile, trying to decide what would make her dad the most happy.

-

“Daddy!” Jo excitedly screamed, running towards the bed.

“Jo!” he returned with the same sentiment.

She was unable to get up on the bed herself so you had to lift her up.

“Remember what I said, careful with Daddy or he won’t get better,” you reminded her.

“You can sit her on my good leg,” Spencer patted his right thigh where you gently set Jo down.

“We brought you loads of stuff, Daddy,” Jo chirped, looking over at you.

You revealed a box of donuts from your bag and the coffee tray you had been holding. You handed him a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles and Jo a strawberry frosted with sprinkles. The two ‘cheers’ed their donuts before biting into them.

“Jo also brought you some things to cheer you up,” you handed her her backpack.

First, she promptly pulled out a pink Disney princesses band-aid and stuck it on Spencer’s already bandaged thigh.

“You need that so it doesn’t get infected,” she repeated Spencer’s words from when she fell at Rossi’s dinner party.

“Thank you, princess. What would I do without you?” he kissed the top of her head as she rummaged around in her backpack some more.

She set up her five favorite dinosaur toys on his tray table in front of them, glancing up at him for approval.

“Perfect,” he smiled, nodding.

Next, she pulled out a piece of paper that had been colored on.

“Who’s this?” Spencer asked, looking at the three stick figures doodled on the paper.

“That’s you, that’s Mommy, and that’s me,” she pointed to each of the sketches.

“Aw, that one is definitely making the fridge,” you smiled.

Finally, Jo took out her Magic Tree House book that she was currently reading. She needed help with some of the words but either you or Spencer or the both of you would help her read it every night.

“You already finished the last one?” Spencer picked up the new book that was next in the series, examining it and smiling proudly.

“And I didn’t need help with a single word on the last chapter,” Jo beamed.

“You’re so smart,” Spencer kissed her head again, “let’s see how far we can get on this one before we can go home.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #reid x reader #spencer x reader #cm fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Got no shame [Oliver Wood x Reader] - Challenge

Title: Got no shame Pairing: Oliver Wood x Female!Reader Word count: 2.5k Published: 27 May, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: [x] Being the daughter of the coach of Puddlemere United gives you the opportunity to get close to the players, some even more than others. When Oliver gets injured, you don’t even care about being friends or less or more, you just need to know if he is okay. Challenge: [x] [x] This is part of @iliveiloveiwrite 's writing challenge

Song inspiration: No shame by 5 Seconds of Summer

Bingo: [x] [x] This is part of my Band--Psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Card by @band--psycho and my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes​​

Square filled: Rain [ @band--psycho ]

Square filled: Temporary amnesia [ @girl-next-door-writes ]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Band--Psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Masterlist

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

You have always been a big fan of quidditch, but unfortunately your abilities were never enough to become a professional. Luckily however, your father was the coach of the Puddlemere quidditch team. It was a daily occurrence for you to appear on their practice, overtime even becoming friends with some of the team members.

Benjy, the seeker of the team and Jocelind, one of the chasers quickly grew fond of you. Although your friendship started off on a rocky road. The two of them had a mission to tease you about their keeper, Oliver Wood’s crush on you. They thought his tries to catch your attention would be obvious to everyone, but it seemed you were the only one who couldn’t see it. Benjy and Jo made it their duty to remind you every single day how badly Oliver had fallen for you. Just like on that particular day, before one of their most important matches.

“Can you just stop?” You exhaled, pleading with the pair, the same subject repeating itself daily. Falling back onto one of the benches of the changing room, you heaved a heavy sigh, tired of their constant nagging.

“Sure, will you accept that Wood has a crush on you?” Benjy asked, teasingly wiggling his brows as he took a seat beside you, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“No! I will not! When he joined the team, he was this shy little boy, trying to adjust. He always talked to me, he always came to me for advice. If back then you said he had a crush on me, I might have believed you. But since then, he has become popular, girls and boys falling on their knees in front of him. I just can’t see it and I doubt out of all his choices I would be a contender,” you explained, sighing deeply.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Jo exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, “each time he gives an autograph he is looking for your eyes, hoping for you to notice him. When the papers are taking photos of us, he looks like a meerkat trying to get your attention. How dumb can you be, woman?” She groaned as she folded her arms in front of her chest, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“You have had a crush on him for years, do something already,” Benjy added quickly before you could have replied. “Wood is my friend and I know him, he is mad for you.”

“Guys, please,” you pleaded, wanting to close the subject finally. “I would like nothing more than to believe you, but there’s no way Wood—,” before you could have continued, the entrance door of the changing room opened, a tall figure entering, his head covered under a hoodie, his clothes soaked, raindrops dripping to the floor.

“Oh, hi,” he lifted his head, revealing his identity. Pushing back his hoodie, you caught his dark eyes as he ran his hand across his short-cut, brown hair, his mere presence causing your cheeks to warm up. “You are early,” he added as none of you replied.

“Yeah, wanted to beat some sense into this woman,” Jo replied with a groan, clearly still annoyed by your blindness for Oliver’s feelings.

“Maybe I should beat some into you,” huffing, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning away from your friend’s gaze.

“Okay, why don’t we just take a deep breath and calm down?” Benjy interrupted.

“You clearly have something to discuss, should I leave?” Oliver asked as he looked around the three of you with a confused expression painted across his handsome face.

“Yes,” Jo replied, but you couldn’t handle another lecture.

“No,” you added, wanting to just stop them from nagging you any further.

“Well, that was helpful,” Oliver scoffed, trying to stop the little smirk from appearing in the corner of his lips. “So, which is it then?”

“No, because if you stay, it means they will quiet down finally and I need them to stop nagging me,” you replied as you stood up from the bench and headed towards the door. “Instead of getting on my nerves, you should start getting ready for the match,” you huffed in annoyance.

“As far as I’m concerned your father is our coach, not you,” Jo replied with gritted teeth.

“Indeed. But guess what, he would say the same,” you offered her a smug grin as you stepped out of the changing room, loudly shutting the door behind yourself.

As you headed to your father’s office, you heard loud footsteps following you. Turning around, you saw Oliver run after you, his clothes still drenched in water, but it didn’t stop him from coming after you. A soft smile appeared on your face as you patiently waited for him.

“Are you doing ground exercises?” You asked playfully as the boy finally halted beside you, trying to adjust his breathing.

“Very funny,” he scoffed, but you caught a tiny smile appearing in the corner of his lips. “I couldn’t stand the mood in the changing room. I have no idea what you have done, but Jo is quite pissed off,” he added, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“Did they tell you what we argued about?” You asked, panic settling deep inside you as you realised Oliver might just know of your crush on him.

“Nah, they didn’t say anything, other than that you are being stubborn and blind for whatever reason,” he furrowed, the words without context making no sense to him.

“So, I’ve heard,” you grimaced as you started walking towards your father’s office once again.

“Wait, can I ask you what the argument was about?” He reached for your arm, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. You turned back to look at him over your shoulder, his eyes holding curiosity.

“The person I like,” you replied, hoping for some sort of reaction from him.

“O— oh,” he breathed, somewhat disappointed as he let go of your wrist. The way he acted was certainly not what you expected and for a mere second you could see what Jo and Benjy were talking about. But a reasonable part of your brain quickly adjusted and decided to send you signals that reassured you it was probably just an involuntary reaction with no meaning behind it.

“Anyways, I will go and see my father. Maybe you should get ready,” you offered him a soft smile as you patted his shoulder and wished him good luck for the game.

As the match started, the rain was still pouring heavily, a batch of lightning struck on the ground, the players barely able to avoid them in time. You hid under your soaked hoodie as you cheered for the team, but deep down your stomach was in a knot, hoping for everyone to leave the game unscraped.

“Come on, Wood!” You shouted as the opponent flew towards his hoops, but luckily, he kicked the quaffle out of the way. His eyes looked for you for a good few seconds, before he caught sight of you and offered you a cheerful grin that you couldn’t stop from mirroring.

The match was rather aggressive, and the weather didn’t help the situation. Whilst you watched your friends fly around the pitch, their blue and yellow cloak following them in their route, a nervous feeling settled in you as a heavy rumble shook the area.

You stood up from the spectator stand and started heading down the stairs, wanting to feel closer to your friends. However, as you looked up, the next thing you saw was a blinding lighting that struck straight into the ground, sending none other than Oliver Wood off his position straight into the wall of the spectator stand across the pitch. A loud scream left your lungs, your heart beating in a dangerous pace as you watched his unconscious body fall towards the ground before someone slowed him down mid-air. Looking down at the benches, you saw your father with his wand in his hand pointing towards Oliver’s limp body, slowly placing him down on the fake grass.

As you started running down the stairs, you never felt more determined. You needed to see him, feel his pulse, check his body for injuries. It was driving you crazy how slowly your body moved before you finally caught sight of him surrounded by a couple of healers as they placed him on a stretcher. Almost feeling him in your grasp, you started running towards the injured boy, but before you could have caught up with the healers, two arms wrapped around you, pulling you back against a strong chest.

“He is going to be okay,” you heard your father’s voice, trying to sooth your worries away.

“Let me see him. Please, dad,” you replied, your voice weak and shaky. He turned you around and pulled you into a fatherly hug, just like the ones you received when you were little. As you finally started calming down, he leaned back and cupped your cheeks, removing the tear stains from your face that you didn’t even realise you had under the heavy rain.

“The healers will help him, but they will not let you in just yet, so take a deep breath, sit down with me on the bench and as soon as they signal for me, I will let you go. Sounds like a good plan?” He asked, hoping you would be able to think reasonably. After a heavy sigh you nodded, knowing that you couldn’t possibly do anything for him. You headed back towards the benches with your father and as they blew the whistle again, you listened to the game, but your mind was somewhere else, to be exact on the boy that the healers rushed away from you before you could even check on him.

It felt like eternity before your father placed a hand on your shoulder and nodded towards the exit of the pitch. Without a word or a thankful look, you started running after the healer that stood at the gate. When you arrived you greeted him and followed him diligently to the medical wing. The path felt like you’ve been walking for hours, even though it was only a couple of minutes. You were impatient, you wanted to see Oliver for yourself, making sure he was okay.

As you reached the medical wing and the large wooden doors opened, your eyes frantically searching for Oliver. As you caught his figure at the back of the room, you rushed up to him and sat down on the small stool beside his bed and took his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. Although it was you who needed to be reassured that he was alright. His eyes started slowly flattering before he finally opened them, looking around the room in confusion, groaning as he turned his head.

“Stay put, Wood,” you instructed him as you pulled your stool closer. “How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?” You bombarded him with questions.

“I’m fine. My head and my back hurts, but I’m okay,” a small smile spread across his face as he squeezed your hand.

“You scared me,” you scolded him as you slapped the back of his hand gently, making him chuckle lightly.

“I didn’t mean to,” he replied with an innocent expression, but a hidden smile in the corner of his lips. “What happened exactly? I’m kind of blurry on the details.”

“A lightning struck beside you and it sent you straight into one of the spectator walls. When you started falling dad slowed you down to stop you from getting any further injuries,” you explained with a deep frown across your brows and concern lacing your eyes. “It was horrible,” you added with a shaky breath as you played with his hand in yours.

“Hey,” he called out to you in a soft tone, lifting his other hand to cup your cheek. “I’m perfectly fine, just a few little bruises,” he tried to reassure you, but your worry was still clear across your face. “Hey, did I ever tell you that I love the way you're screaming my name?” He chuckled softly as you felt your face burn under his intense gaze. He knew he needed to avert your attention, wanting to sooth your worries.

“What?” You asked, stunned.

“The last thing I remember is your loud cheer as you screamed my name,” he smirked proudly, enjoying as you played with his hand in your embarrassed state.

“I cheer for everyone,” you added in a silent tone, trying to avert his suspicions.

“I wish you would cheer only for me,” he sighed as he looked away from you, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling. A confused expression sat across your face as you lifted your gaze and looked at him.

“What do you mean?” You asked, completely baffled by his reply. For a single moment you believed he meant more than he let on, but a reasonable part of your brain quickly shooed those thoughts away.

“I meant what I said,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I can’t just cheer for you. I have to cheer for the whole team so we can all win,” you explained with a confused frown across your brows.

“I know. And I know it’s wrong of me, but it makes me jealous,” he spoke with a soft grimace, earning a surprised gasp from you. “I honestly don’t know what else to do to get your attention. At this point I just got no shame. I shamelessly try to catch your eyes, but every time I feel like you are looking at me, you go and distance yourself,” he scoffed. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned back to you. “Do you think you could ever look at me like a man and not someone who is part of your father’s quidditch team or a simple friend? Do you think you would be able to like me at one point?” He asked, his eyes desperately searching for confirmation, starting your heart off in a quick pace.

A tiny smile started spreading across your face before it grew into a large grin and a loud laughter erupted from your lungs, throwing your head back in the process. Oliver sat beside you, having mixed feelings about your reaction. “You fool,” you chuckled as your laughter started dying down. “You dumb man” you continued shaking your head as you stood up from your stool and leaned above his bed, cupping his face. “How could I not look at you as a man when I already do?” You giggled happily as you closed the gap between the two of you, capturing his lips with yours. For a moment both of you forgot where you were, you just enjoyed being closer to each other, before a healer appeared and loudly scolded you for your behaviour, forcing you to part as though you were still children.

“Well, that’s certainly not what I expected,” he chuckled playfully. “A couple more of these and I will feel brand new,” he grinned.

“I guess you will have to wait for that otherwise the healers will kick me out,” you giggled in content.

“Not happening,” he shook his head as he grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, attaching his lips to yours halfway, earning a shaky moan from you. Luckily this time the healers didn’t catch you and within a couple of hours you were helping Oliver getting back to his flat.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Taglists are in reblog from now on

#girl next door’s make me feel bingo #band—psychos bingo challenge #Oliver wood #iliveiloveiwrite3.5k #Oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x reader imagine #oliver wood x reader one shot #oliver wood x reader fanfiction #oliver wood one shot #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood imagine #sean biggerstaff #harry potter #quidditch

[paneerlajwanti]

@arachneofthoughts asked for a krishna themed mandala. (i can't post their screenshot coz image limit alas)

@arachneofthoughts asked: Hello!! I have never interacted with you before but your mandalas fascinate me so much. They are just absolutely BEAUTIFUL ❤️❤️❤️. If it's possible, could you make a Krishna themed mandala.

let me begin with, HOW DARE YOU op

im so so full of joy when i see y'all love my mandalas the same way i put my love into them. this means so much to me. thank you for this.

but oh thank you so much for this. this literally made my day yesterday and today, i have been thinking of this and only this for the last 24 hours. krishna, my dear lord, HIM. this was such a blissful and teary experience for me.

i couldn't stop once i began, i made you two mandalas.

story and step by step journey behind these two mandalas under the cut. and i know i say these almost everytime, but this actually is the most special, heart touching, emotionally invested arts that i have ever put my heart in. 10/10 shall definitely recommend. i loved every moment of making this.

the first thing i did as soon as i opened this ask was open my music gallery and play songs from the movie meera (1979), sung by vani jairam, prayers composed by sant meerabai and music by pt. ravi shankar, because i have been trained well. i have watched only and only this movie atleast a hundred times as a child. the emotional attachment i have with this movie, with meerabai is just out of this world. my love for krishna has been nurtured from a very young age and has grown from and with my family. meerabai and her songs for krishna resounded in our household as the years passed. every single time i play these, i cry. i cry like a child who longs for a mother's embrace in a world of chaos and running away. i remind myself of my real purpose. i am reminded of the love that sustains me, you and all of us. the eternal, magnificent and complete love that krishna has for us.

i tried drawing my love for him and my love for his art in these two designs. first mandala has the music from meera on it. allow me to demonstrate.

_____

below mentioned are the coloured/ highlighted sections of different whorls and layers of the first mandala.

1. the first innermost whorl is the first song from meera, my absolute favourite, and one of her most beloved bhajans, mere toh giridhar gopal. i drew tiny little peacock feathers, because "jaake sarr mor mukut, mero pati soyee"

2. the second whorl is jaago bansiwale. meerabai sings this as she cleans the temple in the morning and wakes the lord up. "jaago more pyaare, rajni beeti, bhorr bhayo re, ghar ghar khule kivaare" i drew the sun rising from the horizons and the flute opening up to the rest.

3. the third whorl is bala main bairagan hoongi. meerabai's song as her hand is given in marriage to rana of mewar. she has already considered krishna as her only husband. "praan humara wahaan basat hai, yahaan toh khaali khod," she says as her bride procession takes her away. i drew a lamp, a lamp of faith that never died. i tried to draw a forehead of her as a bride with decorations and her jewellery. i drew krishna's peacock feather too, because he is always on her mind, my poor heart cried hard.

4. the fourth whorl is my absolute favourite part of the mandala. to put it in abstract words, in my most insignificant and insignificant way, i drew three ways to approach krishna. love. i drew little symbols of radha (pot of butter), rukmini (a letter), meerabai (a tanpura) symbolizing their love, admiration and devotion respectively.

the fifth whorl is jo tum todo piya, main nahi todu by meerabai. she sings this beautiful song as she tells krishna with absolute faith that even if you break the relation with me, i will not. who else will i give my love to if i break the love with you? "tum bhaye chanda, hum bhaye chakora,, tum bhaye moti prabhu, hum bhaye dhaaga", she sings to say that krishna is like the moon and she is the cakora bird, that yearns in its light. you are like a pearl, i am the string that holds you close. in everyway the lord completes her and she is nothing without him. she is entirely surrending herself to him.

××

should i go for mandala number two??

okay so let's go. i hadn't completed all the songs from meera and my mandala one was completed. i couldn't stop. i began with badal dekh dari

as i drew a very abstract form a bordered cloud formation plis. which then reminded me of the day krishna was born. on a dark, stormy night. i actually continued to draw like a regular mandala until maybe a few minutes later i started seeing patterns lol, as i should. let me explain how they looked otherwise i shouldn't sound like im going somewhere else and you don't get me at all,, so things started to look familiar and i very abstractly made it look like i drew little krishna wrapped in yellow cloth and put on a basket as the waters of yamuna parted ways and yamuna tried touching the feet of krishna

then second whorl,, i drew the usual flower and it's fold until it wasn't. well now that i drew newborn krishna on that stormy night, he needed ananta sesha too, so i drew lord ananta with his multiple hoods, sheltering krishna from the torrential rains and clouds above

the last whorl was a drawing of my boy krishna and his beautiful lotus feet and him standing on his tiptoes (probably to steal a pot of butter hung with ropes) with cute little anklets and his pitambari dhoti,, and then i ended it with just a little peacock feather detail there

thank you so much for this opportunity 🥰 deeply deeply grateful

#krishna #krishna art #india #indian art #mahabharat #meerabai #meera #mandala art #devotional art #krishna painting #mandala #cyberpunkrangoli #goki didi paints #time stamp 1:35AM

[katnissmellarkkk]

Andddd here’s my chappy three thoughts 🥳🥳🥳

Hmmm Katniss saying that her mother has a dress made of velvet is actually really interesting because it shows that Mrs. Everdeen Lily-Rose really was well-er off before she married Katniss’ father Hunter.

Or did she get the velvet dress from Maysilee? Oh well, who knows.

Aww, Katniss’ nervous habit of touching soft things repeatedly to soothe herself 🤧🤧.

“Crying is not an option. There will be more cameras at the train station.” — someone tell that to Peeta 🤣🤣🤣.

Okay I gotta stop picking on Primmers, I know but like. How small is she that she sits on Katniss’ lap like a toddler but then in the following year is the same height as her? Doesn’t matter I know but still I wonder.

Okay so Mrs. E is the doctor for the people of the Seam? Idk I never thought about this but who does people like Peeta or Madge or Delly go to if they’re sick or hurt? Is there a still running apothecary shop that Katniss never mentions? Are her grandparents still running the family biz?

Also okay, I gotta stop having so many thoughts on all the lil details I know but like. Katniss says here she’s familiar with the herbs her mother doesn’t grow on her own so like a). Katniss is more of a healer than she leads on because no average person knows what kind of plant is medicinal and b). Her mother is just growing herbs and Katniss never mentions it again in the whole series? Or I just missed it.

Okay imma move on from this one singular paragraph but Gale and her made a pact a year ago that they’ll supply each other’s family with game if they were to be reaped... I’m feeling like their close friendship is probably only one year old then? Idk. Just my interpretation.

Honestly I love Katniss getting mad at her mom here.

She’s sixteen, for God’s sake, of course she’s angry at what her mother’s illness put her through.

Also I lowkey like that her mother got mad back because that lady in the movies had zero personality.

“Boys who are two to three times my size.” She sounds so little, omg 🥺🥺🥺.

“I don’t care if we’re rich, I just really want you to come home” 🤧🤧🤧😩😩😩😩 okay Primmers, you got me here.

“the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up, and we're all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all I'm saying is ‘I love you. I love you both.’ And they're saying it back...” this is so sad leave me be 😫😫😫😫

Katniss is burying her face in a pillow to block out her emotions this is too much for me 🥵🥵🥵

Omg I forgot Peeta’s father visits Katniss 😅

Why does he visit Katniss?

She describes Peeta’s father as a “big, broad-shouldered man.” And then describes Peeta as stocky. Idk the comparison of the two descriptions has always led me to think Peeta is gonna be a big dude when he grows up like his father. This made no sense and had zero correlation but I thought, so I said it, no regrets

Oh he brought her cookies 🤧

WAIT WAIT WAIT. I just had a new thought, y’all. What if instead of the baker bringing cookies being a thing he does for all tributes, what if he’s bringing the cookies because Peeta asked him to, because he made them and wants to give them to Katniss and knows she’ll never accept / trust them coming from her competition? What if that’s the real reason the baker visited her in the first place? Because Peeta asked him to? This was such a shipper comment but idc, no regrets, remember?

Omg Peeta’s father is just mute 🤣🤣🤣

Between an abusive, angry mother and a mute for a father, the Mellark brothers must have had a fairytale of a childhood 😅😅😅😅.

But seriously #PoorPeetaMyBaby

Aww Peeta’s father is gonna help keep Prim alive 😭

Omg I just remembered he’s her mother’s ex boyfriend. Haidon Mellark, as I named him in my fics.

That one fic where he was thought to be Prim’s real father is just playing now in my head, rent free.

But does Katniss not realize that he may be offering to help Prim as a favor to her? Like she claims Prim is just so wonderful people adore her but there’s like zero evidence in the text that make her endearing? Okay I need to turn this bus around, I need to find a love for Primmy Deen.

Madge is not one for preamble apparently. No “hi, how are you? I’m sorry you’re gonna die? What will your last meal be?” Just right to “here, wear this family heirloom of mine, k thanks.”

I like that Madge had to kiss her cheek for Katniss to realize they were friends 😅😅😅.

I remember always loving her and Gale’s hug here. I’ve always felt like it was platonic, but especially when I first read the books and had zero preference one way or another for Gale or Peeta, I really liked how she said even with nothing romantic between them, “when he opens his arms, I don’t hesitate to go to him” or something I’m paraphrasing ok I’m lazy

Also though, this is the first time they’ve ever hugged? Idk why that surprises me? It shouldn’t because where is a hug gonna fit into a hunting trip 😅🤣😂 “I just caught a deer!” “let’s celebrate with a hug!”

I like that Katniss remembers how her father even failed to make a good bow sometimes. Random, I know.

I like that the Capitol weren’t entertained by the people freezing to deaths because it wasn’t bloody enough 🤭🙃

“How different can it be [to kill a human vs an animal]?” She’s about to find out, Gale 🥺. And when she comes back you won’t understand 🙄😔

What did Gale want to say before the Peacekeepers dragged him away?

I used to think it was a confession of love but I’m actually sure it wasn’t now? Just the wording “remember I-“ doesn’t sound like it, considering he never confessed anything prior to her coming home.

I’m assuming now he was just gonna give her some more advice to stay alive 🤷🏼‍♀️. Clearly if it were relevant it would have made its way to the others books.

Aww, she’s never been inside a car before 😭😭. I didn’t even know they had cars in this universe but okay.

I notice though how she says “In the Seam, we travel on foot.” So is Peeta just riding his trolly down the street every day with the other merchants then? 🤣

Peeta just openly crying on camera 😅😢.

I like how Katniss is like “ooo is this an act to get sponsors?” when in reality Peeta’s like “no, I’m just a soft and genuine boy ™️”

Omg I just realized this totally goes along with Peeta’s thing later on “I want to die as myself”

He’s refusing to hold back his emotions because he thinks he’s doomed to die and he’s already refusing to pretend to be or feel something ingenious.

But a Johanna mention in book 1 chapter 3 woohoo 🥳🥳🥳 also Katniss comparing Jo and Peeta is kind of like foreshadowing of their shared torture in book 3.

Omg she just called Peeta broad-shouldered and strong. 🥰🥰🥰 my headcanon for his post-canon body is confirmed

Also why does Katniss keep allotting his strength to carrying bread trays around? Are they heavy? Why have I never once heard of people who carry bread trays being strong? I always thought Peeta was really strong because he learned to fight in order to defend himself against his mother but that’s probably wrong.

But if a mother is abusive, it can lead to one of the kids being physically violent as well and we know Peeta isn’t but he has two older brothers I’m gonna cut myself off now but I think we all smelled what I just stepped in.

Also I just find it so fascinating now how she regards herself vs Peeta here.

When talking about herself, she says, “The competition will be far beyond my abilities. [...] Oh, there'll be people like me, too. People to weed out before the real fun begins.” But when she talks about Peeta, she immediately says, “It would take an awful lot of weeping to convince anyone to overlook him.”

It’s just funny how she discounted herself right from the start but thought he was a real contender and then come to find out, Peeta believes it’s the exact opposite 😂🙃. They’re both so stupid I can’t even take it.

Wait did they actually give the location of the Capitol and the location of District Twelve in today’s world? And I just overlooked it? Brb I’m gonna go to google maps right quick.

Okay so basically what I gathered is the Capitol is probably in New Mexico and District Twelve is somewhere between Kentucky and Alabama. Irrelevant I know. But just a reminder now to everyone that Katniss and Peeta are literally speaking, crying and screaming in thick, backwoods southern accents.

It’s literally so sad how everything for Katniss is about food. Like every motive she has, every action she does is about preventing starvation ever again. 🤧🤧🤧

First mockingjay mention 🤭🤭.

“My father was particularly fond of mockingjays” 😭😭😭 I bet he was 😭😭😭😭

We always go on and on about how Katniss is a mockingjay or her children are mockingjays but Katniss herself here says mockingjays represent her father imma cry, y’all 😫😫😫😫

“It’s like having a piece of my father with me, protecting me” shut up shut up shut up shut up

Awww, Katniss has never had food like this before 😔😔😔

Neither has Peeta 🤧🤧

Katniss disliking the way Effie put the two kids from the year before down and so began to eat like a pig just to prove her point, is so her. And the beginning of her fighting for the underdog.

Omg the Rue introduction 🥺🥺🥺

Bahahahaha the commenters calling District Twelve backwards but charming 😅😅😅 they really are the hillbilly district

Peeta’s unexpected laugh 🥺🥺🥺 I love you, baby

“He was drunk. He’s drunk every year.” “Every day.” Katniss and Peeta are already finishing each other’s sentiments and teaming up to get on Effie’s nerves I love them so much 😍

Oh my God, Effie, you selfish jerk. They’re kids having fun for like one second, no need to throw in their faces they’re gonna die if the drunk won’t help them. I’d forgotten why I don’t really like the book version of her. I actually prefer her as comedic relief in the movies.

I actually just realized I really dislike Effie Trinket, I hope they never speak to her again Post-Mockingjay. Idc how you’re raised you don’t need to treat teenagers who are sentenced to a probable death badly just because they laughed at you 🙄🙄🙄😡😡😡😡. They didn’t even really laugh at her, she’s just annoying and awful, we don’t stan Effie in this household.

Okay, that’s all for my thoughts on chapter three! Until next time, y’all ! If anyone actually read this long mess of a post.

#thgagain #this is so long I’m sorry #also yes I’m gonna use a Jennifer gif again

[zukkaoru]

shhh i’m not on my phone at work got a second wHAT

35:) ramble to me, babe

35. ramble about any fic-related thing you want

corey this is so vague i don't even know where to begin skjgdfhdj uhhhhh what do i want to ramble about,,

WAIT OKAY I GOT IT

okay so back in like. february i think i did another ask game like this and someone (jo?? maybe???) sent an ask about meta/foreshadowing/hidden references for this ultraviolet morning light and at the time, only the first two(?) chapters were out so i couldn't talk about the foreshadowing, bc it was all leading up to the end of chapter six. but i can talk about it now bc the whole fic is up!!

i'll put it under the cut bc i know it'll be long + spoilers for those who haven't yet read tuvml

fic writer ask game

okay so first. all of the foreshadowing for the drowning scene. maybe i did already have a list of these in my google docs in case anyone every asked, maybe not, i won't say

anyway. i added in water/drowning imagery with zuko specifically in this fic, because of the drowning scene, and especially bc in the atla world, water imagery would generally be used with characters from the water tribes rather than someone from the fire nation. so it wasn't just me liking water-related words and shoving them onto zuko for no reason; it was intentional

chapter one:

- He really can’t think of anything more beautiful than Zuko drenched in moonlight - This is what fire feels like when doused with water. - It burns like fire consuming Sokka’s entire body, like he’s been dunked underwater and the surface has frozen over and his lungs are about to give out, but he’s going to keep hitting the ice anyways like he’s strong enough to break it.

chapter two:

- It washes over his body all at once, like a wave pulling him under the surface of the ocean, until his limbs are numb and tingly and his head sways. He’s completely frozen in place, eyes staring straight ahead but not really seeing anything. - He would’ve rather stood across from Azula in the Agni Kai arena and let her shoot him full of lightning, rather been dropped in the middle of the ocean

chapter three:

- Zuko searches the tumultuous ocean that is his mind for the right words - Zuko was telling them about Azula never quite getting the knack for swimming despite their annual vacations to Ember Island when they were little, and Sokka was so happy.

chapter four:

So he lets the words sink, lets them drown in the knowledge that he no longer has the right to talk to Sokka in the same way he used to.

chapter five:

The moonlight pours over him, drowning him in a soft white glow.

chapter six:

But…my doctors have told me that spending the rest of your life letting yourself drown in guilt isn’t going to help anyone.

also, people picked up on vai being a double agent, but no one picked up on the fact that she was a waterbender, even though i did hint at that too:

- Her brown skin is almost as dark as Sokka’s and her face and arms are covered in freckles. - It reminds Sokka of himself a little; the bright blue eyes of a waterbender but no bending ability to speak of. - How can you get better than a play with dragons, a star-crossed love affair, sun and moon symbolism, and a villain who has a secret past that ties them to the protagonist?

beyond that, there are also a lot of parallels/call backs to previous chapters/foreshadowing to future scenes just in general. the funniest one (and also completely unintentional one) is probably sokka and katara calling each other their least favorite [sibling]

“You’re my least favorite sister,” // You are, and I say this from the bottom of my heart, my least favorite brother ever. chapter 1 // epilogue

but there are. several more. and i'm not sure how many of them people picked up on so i will add them all bc i love them <3

Zuko would get himself arrested, kidnapped, killed, whatever if it would keep Sokka safe. // “I would give my life for [Zuko] without a second thought.” … “But would he do the same for you?” chapter 4 // chapter 6

When Sokka’s hand began to retreat, Zuko had reached forward, grabbed it, and whispered, “Please stay.” // “Don’t leave me.” Sokka says it like a prayer … like he would repeat it until he couldn’t remember anything else if it meant Zuko would keep holding him. “Just… stay.” chapter 5 // chapter 7

So they sit - Sokka and Zuko - on the roof of some abandoned building in the outskirts of the city. // “But now I’m pretty sure we’re just destined to be Sokka and Zuko” chapter 5 // chapter 7

“I just don’t think he’s trustworthy enough for this. … when he proves that he isn’t as reliable as you think - when he proves that he’s only ever going to let you down - I’m going to say I told you so.” // “Zuko is kind, and he is trustworthy and reliable. He’d never purposefully let me down” chapter 3 // chapter 6

this ^ was one i was hoping people would pick up on bc it makes the drowning scene/sokka pleading for vai to not hurt zuko that much angstier, but i'm not sure anyone did so now i'm putting those lines right next to each other so you're all forced to confront the pain <3

Is he still in love with Zuko? Is being in love enough? // But what good is any of that? Love isn’t always enough. // “It doesn’t matter who or where feels like home, it doesn’t matter if we’re in love. When you’re next in line for the throne, love isn’t enough.” chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 6

Zuko warms his other hand on instinct, and apparently it was a good call because Sokka squeezes it tighter and presses closer to Zuko. “I forgot my mittens at home,” // I love you doesn’t always take the shape of those three words. … Sometimes, it’s Have you eaten today? or Don’t forget your mittens again! chapter 1 // chapter 6

this ^ is also one i thought people might pick up on but idk if anyone did or not. but it made me🥺🥺 when i wrote it

[religion tw for the last part]

okay i could leave it there but corey gave me an excuse to ramble and i've made the post this long anyways so one more thing! i explained this to corey a while ago when we were having dinner together but i find it very funny so i'm sharing it with all of you i say like anyone has actually read this far

i accidentally made zuko a Christ Figure in tuvml

"but grace, surely that's not possible," you say. "surely there's no way zuko is a christ figure! there aren't any christian themes in tuvml. you didn't even have anyone try to convince vai to forgive zuko or have anyone convince zuko and sokka that they should forgive vai! how could you have a christ figure in your fic???"

let me set the scene. it's 2019, you're a senior in high school, and you decided to take ap literature for the possibility of college credit. your teacher has this book called how to read literature like a professor that he has his classes read chapters from, and one of those chapters talks about Christ Figures in literature. one of those chapters also talks about baptism symbolism, and mentions how oftentimes, characters who are christ figures will go through a baptism of some sort - being "born again" after a scene where they come out of the water

do you want to know what zuko does in this ultraviolet morning light?

he goes into the water. and then he comes back out.

and do you want to know what i had sokka say about zuko shortly before he took a dive into the baptistry water?

Zuko looks away from him, resigned, like he’s ready to die as atonement.

see. i grew up Christian, i went to church every sunday and i have spent the majority of my life memorizing Bible verses either for awana or bible quizzing and. sometimes i just drop biblical words into my writing sometimes bc they're words i've heard since i was a kid, and they're words i learned make you sound smarter at church. so of course i throw them around while writing. i use them in essays, i use them in poetry, and i use them in fan fiction.

so was i trying to make zuko a christ figure in my fic? absolutely not.

but i had sokka say he looked ready to die as atonement (for the sins of his people), and then i had him go into the water, nearly die, and have to be "brought back to life" by suki's cpr, being "born again" after a "baptism" and

well

accidental christ figure zuko i guess

anyway. this went on for a while and i'm not sure anyone bothered reading all of it which. valid.

thank you corey for letting me ramble skjdgfdjgh i'm not sure this is coherent, nor should it have all been in one post, but whatever

#i am off to eat dinner now but please feel free to send in more questions!! #this ultraviolet morning light #rising sun verse #ily corey <3 #this got very long but i'm not really surprised tbh #ask game #corey tag

[rosethornewrites]

Fics I read this week

Some of these may have been read earlier than a week ago, but I tried to keep it contained. Not sure I’ll keep this up, but I’ll try.

Finished:

Rated E:

the origin of change, by kissteethstainred, rated E

Lan Xichen said, “Time for regrowth and mourning is, of course, the most important. But there has also been a—frequent—discussion of marriage.” He paused to drink more tea. He almost seemed apologetic when he added, “Your name has been brought up often.”

“For marriage,” Lan Wangji repeated.

Except with Wei Ying in the picture, nothing goes exactly as planned.

Opportunity, by brooklinegirl, rated E

Lan Zhan is jostled slightly and he turns in his seat to see a harried-looking man squeezing in next to him. There isn't an empty seat there, and the bar is quite crowded. "Sorry," the man says, sounding out of breath. "I know I'm all up in your business, I'll move, I promise, I just—" He blows his breath out. "I'm going to lose this seat next to you, that dude over there has been eyeing it, and it's mine as soon as this guy leaves.”

Rated M:

Oxymoron, by feline_somnambulist, rated M

Jiang Yanli was in the kitchen. She hummed softly along to music being played somewhere else in the house, as she shuffled carefully back and forth from the prep table to the giant vat of soup. The house smelled like pork rib and savory broth. As always, she was beautiful in her element, a goddess of her domain despite the limp and the leg brace.

Her phone rang just as Jiang Cheng entered the kitchen. She saw him and smiled as she made her careful way to the phone on the wall-mounted charging station.

Jiang Cheng put the stack of paperwork down on a counter. He got to the phone first, picked it up. It was Lan Wangji’s number. He rejected the call and put the phone in his pocket.

“A-Cheng? Is everything okay?” Jiang Yanli asked, a frown creasing her brow. “Who was that?”

It Ends With the Beginning, by feline_somnambulist, rated M

They fight. They part. Jiang Cheng is hurt. Wei Wuxian comes to help. Wei Wuxian runs. Jiang Cheng is tired of chasing. They fight.

Until The End, by abCEE, rated M

"When I -- when I tied my ribbon around our wrists, I knew what I was doing and I privately honored it." Wei Wuxian's brows continued to meet as he tried to understand where the conversation was going until realization dawned on him. "Wa -- wait! Lan Zhan, is it what I think it is?!!" "It is usually done at the end of a wedding ceremony --" "What-" "But it could have been acknowledged as an engagement." "Lan Zhan!" He cannot believe what he is hearing now. "But my ancestor revealed herself --" "And we bowed… three times. We bowed, Lan Zhan!"

In which wangxian are married since the Cold Pond Cave incident, knows how proper communication works, and had confessed in the middle of the Sunshot Campaign. Things went spiraling up and down from there.

Rated T:

as it should be, by Sienne, rated T

Post-canon Lan Qiren time travels to before the Cloud Recesses lectures. The Cloud Recesses are quiet and peaceful, something his home hasn't been in years. ...In fact, it is too quiet and peaceful.

Judgment Day, by Grace_Logan, rated T

Cornered Wei Wuxian sees only one way out after cluing in on the Jin's plan.

Welcome To Gusu, by perkynurples, rated T

Deep in the lush forests of Gusu hides an aging resort that hosts dozens of children every summer for an unforgettable couple of weeks. It’s where Lan Wangji grew up alongside Wei Wuxian, and when his childhood friend (for the lack of a better term) surprisingly returns years later in the position of Senior Counsellor, seemingly hell bent on causing the same kind of mischief that got him kicked out of Gusu in the first place, but also taller, broader and tanner than ever before, Lan Wangji knows he’s In Trouble. Or, this fic has it all: longing looks over campfires, found family dynamics, ill-timed skinny dipping, teenagers inappropriately shipping their counsellors, camp weddings...

Therapy is a Performative Act, by cinder1013, rated T

“What does your dad think of your comedy?”

“Oh, he hates it, but it pays the bills and I need it to pay for my goddamn fuckin’ therapy.”

Jiang Cheng stumbles into being a stand-up comic and his favorite topic is dear ol’ dad.

sorry, i love you, by moon_thief, rated T

lan wangji was practically seething as he watched it happen. what kind of person could be so careless, unruly, undisciplined-

and then their eyes met.

oh. oh.

Tremble a Prayer, by cqlorphan, rated T

They kiss, and Lan Wangji regulates himself. There are no tears pricking at his eyes. There is no lump in his throat. His hands are undressing Wei Ying, and then Wei Ying’s hands are on his hands.

“What is it?” Wei Ying says, between kisses.

Even with Wei Ying back, Lan Wangji's sadness overwhelms him at times. He tries, and fails, to keep it from him.

The Quiet Work, by ShipsAreLaunching, rated T

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian get a summons for help from a minor clan in Gusu. When they go to investigate they find a horrible truth, and do what they do best.

Rated G:

Ink Stains Not So Ignored, by Preludian_Staves, rated G

Qiren found something that he still couldn't bring himself to ignore about his youngest nephew's husband.

I’d buy a big house where we both could live, by failed2be_chill, rated G

“Ah, so you want to play with the rabbits and enjoy their soft fur and silly little nose twitches while your poor husband toils in the heat of the day with hammer and nail doing exhausting manual labour. I see how it is. It’s a good job I love you, huh?” Wei Wuxian kisses his husband’s soft cheek.

“Mn, very good.”

---

Or, married WangXian embrace the practical and symbolic joys of home ownership. Domestic bliss.

Family, by Speechless_since_1998, rated G

Jiang Cheng blinked as his brother while he played with the baby he was holding.

He hoped he had misunderstood, but he had proof that it was true right in front of him.

So he did the only sensible thing that came to mind, "Wei Ying, what the fuck ?! '

"A-Cheng, language!" Shijie scolded him with a stern look.

"A-Jie, you can't really accept such a thing!"

"Why not? He is so cute!" she said, making funny faces at the child, totally in love with him.

Was it possible that he was the only one with a bit of mental sanity left?

A Lonely Guqin (No More), by Asphodel_Meadow, rated G

Wei Wuxian is the first person who makes Lan Wangji want to have a duet.

piercing, by escapingaugust, rated G (read the tags)

Stolen Midnights, by hinotoriii, rated G

There are nights where sleep eludes Wei Wuxian. Where the demons of his past are too loud in his mind, reminding him of that which he could never forget, second life or not.

Unfinished:

Not Rated:

Disclosed Regrets, by zLanWuxian, Not Rated

The majority of the cultivation world are pulled into a room that suspiciously resembled the burial mounds. (Their golden cores were sealed too. As to why, nobody knew.)

They are invited to watch Wei Wuxian's life.

What will they do when they find out everything they believed was a lie?

(Or: The characters of Mo Dao Zu Shi watch Mo Dao Zu Shi)

Rated E:

Where You Fell, by Sweet_William, rated E

Years ago, Lan Wangji was a Senior in high school, readying himself for graduation and the coming years studying at the Gusu Lan Institute of Music. Everything in his life made sense, from his role in his family, to a future as a classical musician. The only thing that didn’t fit was the sudden epiphanies he had about himself brought on by his bothersome and flirtatious classmate, Wei Wuxian. When the growing attraction and friendship was cut short by the other boy’s disappearance, he mourned what could have been, but ultimately had to move on. What he didn’t know was that fate would bring them back together again one day, or the reality of how far apart two lives can diverge, how some can find peace and prosperity, while others can fall farther than he ever imagined.

A Narrow Bridge, by FrameofMind and Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle), rated E

Once, Lan Wangji made a choice to step aside. Ten years after Wei Ying’s death, he finds a way back to choose again.

Setting fire to our insides, by StarsAlignNomore, rated E

Lan Wangji dies after the thirty-third strike. Lan Xichen does not handle it well.

*fleabag voice* This is a fix it.

Rated M:

Live Again, Love Anew, by kkanime5555, rated M

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian finally speaks up.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan hums to show he’s listening.

“I think we traveled back in time.”

...

“I’ll go, Lan Zhan. I’ll come to Gusu with you.”

-----

Or,

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are soulmates and, upon Wei Ying's death, they are sent back to when they first met as kids on the streets of Yiling. From there, they both are taken to Gusu, where they are raised together, gradually learning of their shared feelings and finding out the mystery of who sent them back in time and why, all while planning how to save the world, preferably with all their loved ones left alive.

A Torn Red Ribbon, by shiroakuma, rated M

The night before they marched into the Nightless City, Lan Wangji was invited to join Wei Wuxian in his tent.

Unbeknownst to him at that time, it became their last real conversation.

In which, a resounding victory against the QishanWen Sect is won seemingly at the cost of Wei Wuxian's life. Lan Wangji still spends some time being heavily injured. Lan Xichen tries to pick the pieces left behind by the war. The Jiang Sect is renowned thanks to the revered Wei Wuxian and the cultivation world is plagued by unknown forces while Lan Wangji meets with Wei Wuxian in his dreams.

Sacrifices Made with Blood, by NocturnalFriend, rated M

Lan Wangji knew it was too late, there was too much blood on Wei Ying's hands already. Still, if he asked his brother for help, surely. There was a way to rescue the man who held his heart?

Or: Trust is not easily given and all to easily shattered. Lan Wangji learns this in the worst way, when Lan Xichen gives into the demands of the cultivation world. Although nobody could have predicted the whims of fate, giving them another chance at righting things.

What makes you sing?, by Fictio, rated M

Madam Yu was never known for her matchmaking skills but she was known for her inherent meddling. Though it still came as a surprise, when on one fine Saturday afternoon, she called Wei Ying and set him up for a blind date.

There She Rose, by Aiiiru, rated M

Many years had passed yet whispers and gossips about YiLing Matriarch still stayed alive like unruly weeds refusing to die.

"That damn Wei Wuxian must have cursed this year's harvest with 'unkillable' locusts" "But Wei Wuxian had died right?" "Didn't you know that her body wasn't found?" "I heard some cultivators saying that during the chaos, some people saw her leaving in a sword, flying away with someone else." "That must be the demon with whom she signed a contract, a female challenging three thousand or was it five thousand cultivators by herself? Hah!! She definitely has ties with evil creatures and ghosts." "I heard from my cousin in Yunmeng that YiLing Matriarch was born shameless." "Some say she was a male but took female form to seduce the ghosts of burial mounds and gain power by starting demonic cultivation" "Shhh! Don't talk so loudly! My cousin knew a man who loudly gossiped about Yilling Matriarch only to be cursed to death the next day"

Visitations, by Vir_Abelasan, rated M

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry."

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine.

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

Kiss My Wounds, Bless My Scars, by Pegunicent, rated M

When he is sixteen, Lan Wangji makes a choice. He becomes Wei Ying's bride.

Rated T:

the one where Jiang Yanli visits (and she's a fucking goddess), by ShippersList, rated T (part 4 of a series)

Wei Wuxian’s sister was a fucking goddess so it was a travesty she wasn’t being fucked like a goddess deserved.

Luo Qingyang decided to do something about it.

(Also, family feels and some plotting but that's beside the point.)

obscured in the shade of the willow, bathed in the light of the moon, by cloud_wanderer, rated T

Wei Wuxian leaves the Burial Mounds for the first time to attend his martial brother's wedding, and everything changes from there. (a.k.a. a universe in which Nie Huaisang schemes to thwart Jin Guangshan's plans and ends up saving Wei Wuxian and the Wens in the process)

Wei Wuxian meets Xiao Xingchen and helps found a sect in Yiling.

Inchoate, by Marinelifeclub, rated T

“Where would you even go once you left? Wait a few more years before leaving." persuaded Jiang Fengmian,

“Will I live to see that long?” Wei Wuxian whispered under his breath.

Jiang Fengmian felt cold at those words. He always thought his children would be the ones to heal the scars left by their mother on Wei Wuxian, but just the concise way he spoke about them, he knows that wasn’t true. Now his best friend’s son sat in front of him, confessing to not thinking he will live to see himself become a man. Cangse and Changze must be furious in their graves as the sweet smiling son they raised endured pain because of a jealous woman and a cowardly man. Sighing, he did the only thing he could to make things right and accepted the boy’s wishes.

At age 14, Wei Wuxian left Lotus Pier and never looked back.

Wei Wuxian leaves Lotus Pier and while things change something’s are just set in fate.

Here We Go Again, by Alliandra, rated T

He looked over to where the swordswoman was still fighting, but her focus seemed entirely locked onto that fight so it was unlikely that she could have had anything to do with the energy drain. He was still wracking his brain for something else to do to assist, so this thing didn’t kill them both, but now he was feeling weak, dizzy and currently not far from helpless.

~~~~~~~~~~

It has been several months since the events at the Guanyin temple and Wei Wuxian is wandering around on his own. After he helps a stranger kill a very dangerous beast he uncovers what seems to be a conspiracy aimed at ending his life. He heads back to Cloud Recesses with his new companion in tow, looking to get Lan Wanji's help in working out what is involved.

Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling made a surprising discovery under Koi Tower that may well be linked to the threat against Wei Wuxian's life.

Can they all work together to find out what is going on and put a stop to it, before something disastrous occurs?

Nie Huaisang's Ten Steps to Fix The Fucked Up Reality, by cosmic_zephyr (ProudHaikyuuTrash)

1. Find the time travel array in the Nie library 2. Convince (manipulate) Wei Wuxian to use demonic cultivation to activate the array. 3. Transmigrate to the body of your 15-year-old selves with Wei Wuxian and Survive his wrath. 4. Come up with yet another exaggerated, slightly concerning, plan to save Lotus Pier, Dafan Wens and your brother. 5. Use Empathy to make the Wen siblings side with you in the mess that is soon to come. 6. Kill the main Wen family and make Wen Qing the new leader of Qishan Wen so innocent people are not killed. 7. Annoy the hell out of Lanling Jin just for funsies and also a political statement because Jin Guangshan can suck it. 8 Preferably, just for your own sanity, find a way to kill Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao. 9. Work with Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing to solve the sabre problem of the Nie clan. 10. Live a happy life with your brother alive and the cultivation world not being the huge fucked up mess in your own time-line. P.S. Matchmake the pining pile of disaster and gay aka Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

Aka canon divergence where Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian (and Lan Wangji) travel back in time and save the cultivation world.

Deal, by Rahar_Moonfire, rated T

Nie Huaisang wants revenge for his brother. He also wants his friend Wei Wuxian back. Lan Wangji left the Cultivation World after Wei Wuxian's death and hasn't been heard from since. It's a good thing Nie Huaisang has spies everywhere. He has everything he needs to put his plan into motion: the notes, the instructions, the "willing body," and the patience to pull it all off.

Now he just needs to be sure Wei Wuxian survives long enough to pick up Nie Huaisang's bread crumbs, solve the puzzle, and shatter the Cultivation World again. The only person suitable for that job is Black Jade of Yiling, the husband of the infamous Yiling Patriarch, Lan Wangji.

Rated G:

Hadn't gone as I planned, by hamlets_ghost, rated G (part of a series)

Lan Xichen leaves the Cloud Recesses with Wei Wuxian and Wangji to meet his mother.

He cannot stay.

[continuation of 'Hold on to your heart']

#the untamed #untamed fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #CQL #mdzs

[bnhasimpgirltm]

It’s Enough (Dabi x Reader)

Pairings: Dabi x Reader

Warnings: a little bit of blood, kind of moves a little slow?, mild swearing

Genre: Angst (but not really)

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 3452

A/N: Just another fic to fuel my newfound Dabi writing addiction. This idea has been nagging me for a week and a half so I’m glad I got the chance to write it. This is also my first new fic since all of the reposts! Reader’s quirk is that they can redirect and contain energy. 

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

The air around Japan’s most protected weapon development facility is still except for the occasional bird flying by. Most of the employees have gone home with the exception of a few night stragglers and the usual security team.

The perfect time for a certain team of villains to strike.

“Make way for the League of Villains!” Toga cackles, coming through Kurogiri’s warp gate, Dabi and Shigaraki following behind. 

“Be quiet, we don’t have time for your games,” Shigaraki hisses, “Go and do your job.”

“Why can’t Dabi just burn the door? It would be faster and easier,” whines Toga, twirling her knife between her fingers. 

“Did you not hear the mission briefing? We need to be discreet,” Kurogiri scoffs.

“You should have just opened a gate inside the building, then we could just skip this entire ‘breaking in’ stuff.” Looking at the horizon, Toga sticks the tip of her knife into the trunk of the closest tree.

“There are cameras in that building. If I were to create a gate inside the room with the weapon, authorities would automatically know that we stole it,” Kurogiri explains. “Plus, (y/n) works here on Saturday, and we promised Dabi that we wouldn’t impede on their relationship.”

“(Y/n)’s shift is from 8AM to 4PM,” Dabi peeks over at Kurogiri’s watch. “It’s 9PM.”

“We still have to be discreet,” Kurogiri swats Toga’s knife away from his face. “Shoudn’t you be inside already, assuming the identity of one of the employees?” 

“Say no more,” Toga takes a moment and looks around the corner, spotting a tall, brown-haired man walking into the parking lot.  “Perfect.”

Walking up to the man, Toga talks up the man and asks him to help her find her way to her car. 

“I’ve never seen you around here,” he says. “Are you a newbie?”

“Well, yes, I am new,” Tapping her chin, Toga mock thinks. “I mean, once I’m done here no one will know.”

“Excuse me?” The man glares at her, suspicious. “I’m going to need you to identify yourself.”

“I’m you!” Toga giggles like a little girl.

“This isn’t a jo-” he’s cut off by Toga pulling him down to her height and choking him. 

The League hears the man’s muffled cries for help as he falls unconscious. 

“Just a little bit and we’re good,” says Toga to the rest of the League members hiding on the other side of the corner.

Pricking the man’s finger, she licks the blood off the knife and transforms. 

Giddy from transforiming, Toga smiles and laughs. “Wow, I’m so tall.” She looks at the badge. Reading it, she identifies herself, “Daichi, interesting name.”

Ignoring her, Shigaraki speaks in a gravelly voice.“There should be a mercenary here right now, I already paid,” Shigaraki looks around. 

“I’m right here,” a small voice replies. “Name is Mira, last name Ju, and you only have a couple more hours before your time is up.”

“What’s her quirk?” Dabi asks. 

“She’s going to be useful. Her quirk allows her to change the physical  appearance of anything within a certain distance of her,” Kurogiri explains. 

“What are we waiting for then?” Dabi slaps his hand on the closest tree. “We don’t have all night.”

“Say no more,” Ju closes her eyes and the people who were the League of Villains transform into normal looking citizens. 

“How far can we wander while maintaining the disguises?” Kurogiri asks. 

“For the amount of time we have to keep these disguises up?” Ju pauses and thinks. “To be safe, keep it at six feet or less.”

“How are all of us going to get in there standing that close?” Dabi scoffs and starts to walk towards the side entrance. “That’s shady.”

“Dabi, we’re not all going in,” Shigaraki explains. 

“Well who then?” Dabi impatiently asks. 

“We need Toga, she’ll make us look less suspicious,” Kurogiri cuts in. “Ju is a must, obviously, and so am I. Without me, you have no chance of escape after the facility locks down.”

Dabi narrows his eyes and lets an annoyed noise escape from his throat. “Your point?” 

“We can only take one more person,” Kurogiri lets his eyes linger over every member of the League. “We can take Dabi. His quirk will be useful if we need to fight.”

“Step right up, Dabi, was it?” Dabi begins to walk towards the side entrance with Ju, Toga, and Kurogiri following. 

Using the man’s ID, Toga scans it on the door. The door makes a beep sound.

“Welcome, Daichi Sawamura,” the electronic pad responds. 

“Come on in everyone,” Toga slips her gloves over her hands and opens the door. 

Toga, Dabi, Ju, and Kurogiri step into the facility, waiting for alarms to sound.

“This place looks so dead,” Toga, looking like Daichi Sawamura from the parking lot, says with disgust. “Who could work here?” 

“We don’t have to appreciate this place, we just have to steal from it,” Kurogiri reminds. After walking halfway down the hallway, he opens another door. The group of villains sneak into the out-of-use closet. 

“We are going to get caught in here,” Toga reasons. “I don’t want to go to jail.”

“It’s 9:30, Toga,” Kurogiri says back. “Everyone has gone home, or at least we hope.”

“Quiet, Toga, start being useful,” Dabi points at the closet door. “Distract the people who are still here.”

Toga steps out, and as if on cue, a woman in a knee length, sleek, black pencil skirt rounds the corner, seeing Toga just as Toga begins to walk away from the closet.

“Daichi-san!” She calls. “What are you still doing here? I saw you leave a while ago.”

Lying smoothly, Toga smiles at the woman. “I forgot my water bottle.” 

“I can go get it if you want,” she turns back. “Where did you leave it?” 

“That’s okay,” Toga takes a glance at the woman’s ID badge, “Dama-san, I can get it myself.”

“It’s actually not a problem, just tell me where you put it,” Dama pushes further. 

“I actually don’t remember where I put it, I’m going to look,” Toga refines her lie. 

“Oh, okay, I’ll let you go look.” She pauses. “Do you need an ID to get into any of the offices? I heard some of the electronic door locks are misreading ID cards and not letting some people in.”

What a perfect opportunity! Toga thinks. “Thank you, that would be appreciated.”

“Here you go,” the severe-looking woman, Dama-san, hands her ID to Toga. “I must get going now, my family is waiting for me.” 

“Have a nice night,” Toga walks around the corner and looks behind her as the woman opens the side door. Backtracking, Toga turns, and opens the closet door. 

“This is better than we could have hoped! She gave me her ID!” Toga squeals. 

“Who is that woman?” Ju questions.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” Kurogiri says. “Her ID will get us where we need to be.”

“Lets go before anyone else asks who we are,” Dabi recalls what Shigaraki explained during the briefing. “Two lefts and a right, then open the second door to your left,” he repeats to himself.

After following the directions, the small group arrives at a large metal door. 

“Can you melt it, Dabi?” Toga asks. 

“Absolutely not!” Kurogiri stops Dabi by shooting his arm between the door and Dabi. “We have sent this entire mission attempting to be discreet.” 

“Try the guy’s ID first,” Ju suggests. 

Toga lift’s Daichi’s ID to the scanner. After she lifts it, the scanner flashes red. 

“Unauthorized Employee, please try again.” 

Toga pockets Daichi’s ID, then, holding Dama’s ID up, the group hopes for the best. 

“Welcome, Dr. Dama Kana.”

Toga smiles and puts her gloves on again. 

“That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Not at all, and suspiciously so,” Kurogiri looks around, ignoring the small model projects on the tables, then,  his eyes land on a large case resting flush to the wall. 

“Here it is.” Kurogiri picks the case up and inspects it. “A weapon created with a massive amount of energy. The person working on this must have a quirk that allows them to work with it and not be injured.” 

No more than five second later, the door opens. 

“Dr. Dama?” The security guard asks, looking at a handheld screen “What are you doing here so late?” Looking up, he realizes, “You’re not Dr. Dama.” 

“I’m Daichi, Dama-san gave me her ID, so I could look for my water bottle,” Toga hands the security guard Dama Kana’s ID. 

“I need your ID. That goes for all of you.” the guard motions for everyone to drop their IDs in his hand.

“We’re not from around here,” Ju steps forward. 

“What do you mean?” The guard asks. 

Ju lunges forward, releasing her quirk’s hold on the disguises, and the guard reaches for his taser. Three vials crash to the floor and boots thunder down the hallway, rapidly coming closer. 

“Take the weapon Kurogiri!” Dabi commands. “Open the gate, we’ll find a way out!” 

Kurogiri opens his warp gate and disappears with the weapon. As soon as it appears, it’s gone, leaving Dabi, Ju, and Toga to deal with the incoming barrage of security guards.

“Please remain still while we search you.”

“I did not sign up for this,” Ju complains. 

Toga frowns, “Me neither.” Then smiles. “But you know what’s always fun?”

“Miss, I’m going to need to see either your company or official Japan ID,” the man demands. 

“No,” Toga defies. 

“We are going to have to detain you and your accomplices if you resist any further,” he states sternly. 

“Detain this!” Toga yells, “Dabi!” 

Dabi lets out a trail of fire and the guards all jump back. 

“Use any force necessary!” The first one yells. “Blue fire, you must be part of the League.”

“You would be right,” Dabi says without thinking, then smirks and shoots another pillar of fire from his arm. 

His assailant jumps back, giving Dabi enough room to pull the door open. 

“Stop the flame guy!” Someone orders. “Call the lockdown! Close the exits!”

“Go Dabi, go!” Toga yells.

Dabi dashes out of the lab and slams the door. A moment later, a series of locks click into place, locking Toga, Ju, and the security team in the lab. 

“Lockdown Initiated,” the electronic lock’s small screen turns red.

Stopping to catch his breath, he scans the hall for a potential exit.

“Dabi?”

“(Y/N)?” He chokes out. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, “How did you know I was here?” 

Dabi can’t hide the shock on his face. “You’re supposed to be at home, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I was here doing extra work, and the lockdown happened,” worriedly, you ask, “And how did you even get into the building?” 

Dabi listens carefully to the noise coming from the floor above you two.

 More security personnel. 

“Come on,” Dabi grabs your hand and pulls you towards the glass window. “We’re on the first floor.”

“Dabi, stop, what are you doing?” You yell. 

“Just break the damn window!” Becoming more frusturated, Dabi yells back. “Break it!”

“I’m not doing anything until you tell me what is happening!” You stubbornly fold your arms over your chest and glare at Dabi. 

“Let (L/n)-san go, and come willingly. Then maybe we’ll think about being nice,” A voice calls from the middle of the hall, coming closer. 

“Dabi, tell me what’s happening right now!” You demand. 

He had been so careful. Keeping his name and appearance out of the news, making sure to destroy photographic evidence of him, and only using his quirk when he was sure no one was recording. How that security guard from earlier knew what his quirk and affiliations were was beyond him. 

“Dabi!” You dig your nails into his hand to get his attention. “Explain!” 

He wanted to tell you that this was a big misunderstanding. A very, very, very, big misunderstanding, but what slipped out was actually the exact opposite. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out earlier,” he drones. “Blue fire is my hint, if you still don’t get what I’m trying to say.”

“I’m still not understanding.”

“Step away from (L/n)-san!” The voice says again. 

“Can you be quiet?” Dabi angrily asks. Impulsively, he activates his quirk. “This will shut you up.”

Before she can react, Dabi sends a long blue flame in the woman’s direction, and another creating a cerulean wall blocking the path of everyone else. 

“Where’s the fire extinguisher?” Someone shrills. 

“What the hell?” You cry out, stepping away from Dabi and backing into the window. “Dabi! You just set a person on fire.”

Stoically, Dabi replies, “It wouldn’t be the first,” 

“How many people have you burned?” You ask, “If there’s a problem, you could talk to me!”

Dabi scoffs. “It’s not a problem. Problems have to have solutions, and this doesn’t have a solution. Do you think the League of Villains forced me to join them? Do you think the League of Villains forces me to use my quirk to hurt people? ” As if what he said wasn’t already bad enough, Dabi continued. “Also, if you were wondering how many people I’ve burned, I can’t tell you, because I don’t keep count.”

“Tell me you’re joking, right now,” you take two steps and poke him in the chest. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“After a certain amount, the number doesn’t matter anymore.”

Crestfallen, you bite your buttom lip to contain the tears. “You’re not joking.”

“You’ll never be one of them,” he takes your hands and squeezes them. “I could never hurt you.”

“Not me, but what about everyone else?” You wailed. “How many people will die until you decide that you can’t do it anymore? Until you tell yourself that you’ve had enough?”

“I don’t know,” Dabi’s face becomes stoic again, “but you won’t be around to see.”

“Wait!” You scream. 

Dabi lets go of your hands and steps back towards the window. You’re about to grab his arm to stop him, but he pushes you back and ignites a wall of fire to keep you from going after him. You hear a shattering and heavy footsteps quickly fading.

Before you can even blink the tears away, he’s gone, and the only thing that even suggests that there was a fire is the white foam that coats the hallway. 

“(L/n)-san, I’m going to need you to come with me.”

~

The first thing Dabi thought when he stopped running was that he would never be able to see you again. 

“It’s for (y/n)’s protection,” he told himself repeatedly.

But no matter how many times he told himself, he still didn’t want to leave you behind. 

“It’s for (y/n)’s protection,” Dabi says once more. 

Nearing the League’s hideout, Dabi performed the knock that Shigaraki had demanded be created for security purposes.

“We’re closed for renovations,” Dabi hears from behind the door. “If you want to go to a bar, there are plenty of other ones in this city.”

Another security precaution, of course. You could never be too safe. 

“I want a Whiskey Sour, 75 degrees room temperature to start, with six ice cubes after, and an extra cherry,” Dabi recits. 

The door opens, revealing Kurogiri. 

“I was waiting. Where are Toga and Ju?” Kurogiri asks. 

“I don’t know,” Dabi admits. “I left them in the lab.” 

If he could, Kurogiri would have pursed his lips. “That is a matter to worry about later. We have the weapon, that’s what’s important.”

“Toga and Ju aren’t the only people that I left behind,” Dabi snaps. 

“What?” Kurogiri asks. 

“Nothing.”

~

After staying at the police department for six hours and being questioned for three, you were finally allowed to leave. It was so early in the morning that you didn’t even bother going back home. 

You had a different destination in mind. 

You got into your car and began to drive, not even feeling tired after the events of the night before. 

Finally, you arrived at your destination, Hawks’ Hero Agency. You had graduated a couple of years before him, and while he went and formed an agency after he graduated, you had decided to not become a hero, instead starting a new project. The project that was stolen from the lab that you worked in. While you were a third year, you had met Takami a couple of times, but he didn’t go to UA. 

Strolling into the agency, you addressed the receptionist. “I need to talk to Hawks.”

“You need an appointment, come back some other time,” he replied without looking up. 

“No, I need to see him now, it’s important,” you complained. 

“I told you to come back later!” He repeats. 

“Let them come in, I know them,” you hear above you. 

Looking up, you spot Hawks sitting on a ledge. 

“Hey Takami,” you greet. 

“How has it been (y/n)? Are you finally taking up my offer on joining my agency?” He asks. 

“Actually, yes, that’s exactly why I’m here,” you confirm. 

“Let's talk in my office.”

Hawks jumps from the ledge and motions for you to follow him. You enter a room through double doors, and he sits down at a mahogany desk. 

“I’d also like to request to be put on the League of Villains investigation,” you state clearly. 

“Interesting,” Hawks brandishes a Hawks themed pencil and a piece of paper. “I’m pulling up your resume from the UA alumni website, just standard protocall.”

You sit quietly until he speaks again. 

“Graduated from UA, excellent graduating test scores, top of your class, next biggest hero, went to go work on something else,” he reads off. “What did you go to work on anyways?” 

“I’m not authorized to say,” you reply sternly. 

“Fair enough,” Hawks looks back at his computer. 

“Can you get me on the investigation of the League?” You ask again. 

“Well, I am the boss around here, so I guess so,” he smiles at you. “You’d have to get your license again though, and you also need to pick a hero name.”

“Veritas,” you say, already knowing. 

“What?” Hawks says. “Can you repeat that?”

“Veritas, it means truth, and that’s what lights are for right? Illuminating the truth,” you explain. 

“Veritas,” Hawks repeats and clicks his tongue. “I like it. Welcome to my agency, Veritas.”

You and Hawks shake hands, then, you leave. 

Before you get into your car, you turn on your phone and open your messages app. 

Should I do it? You ask yourself. 

Quickly typing out a message, your fingers glide over the keyboard. Before you can think twice, you send the message. 

To: Dabi 

Be ready, I’m coming for you.

You didn’t expect him to respond, he rarely ever did, but this time seemed to be one of the rare exceptions. You felt your phone ping in your hand, and a new message appeared at the top of your screen.

From: Unknown

I’m always ready.

You grin at the message. 

“Alright then,” you say out loud, knowing exactly who it was. You opened the door of your car and got in, starting the ignition, then pulling out of the parking lot and onto the highway. 

You had never thought about becoming a hero after UA, obviously starting a new project after graduation, but you would get your closure with Dabi. 

Whether it was good or bad would be up to fate. 

~

On the other side of the city, Dabi held his burner phone, connected to a new number. He had the League tracking the messages coming to his old number, and even though he was usually not able to respond, he made an exception. 

Things could be worse, he supposed. He still had you, and was better off than Toga and Ju, at least. Things could  actually be a lot worse. He might be running for his whole life, but at least he had something to keep him tethered to the ground.

Shigaraki, Toga, Kurogiri. They didn’t have anyone but the League. They would slowly decend into insanity as time passed, and chances were that he would too if he kept going the way he was.

Except unlike the others, he had control over whether that happened. 

Dabi tapped on your name in his phone and wrote another message. It was simple, and definitely not long, but it got the point across. 

To: (Y/N)

It won’t be long. I’ll see you soon.

He hit send, then turned his phone off. 

There and then, Dabi decided what he would do next.  

Maybe it was time to stop running. 

#dabi x reader #dabi imagines #bnha dabi #dabi imagine #dabi fanfic #dabi #dabi matchup #dabi my hero academia #bnha masterlist #bnha x y/n #bnha #bnha imagines #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero fanfic #my hero academia #my hero headcanons #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero acadamia oc #boko no hero academia #boku no hero art #boku no hero imagines

[werezmastarbucks]

portland

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2731

music: silently by axel flovent, tear in my heart by twenty one pilots

You got tired of driving at around two in the morning. Somehow Kennewick did not satisfy neither of you in terms of sleeping. Perhaps it was the road, nervousness of traveling, and Kai’s indifference about the current situation you got stuck in, but as soon as he snuggled against you at eleven o’clock, you felt all the sleep has escaped you like a butterfly that leaps away. He was already deep in sleep, when you decided you wanted to drive at night, and Parker was sorely unhappy about getting out of bed. While you still had moral high ground as leverage on him, while it worked, you elected to use it. Then, a couple of hours later, the tiredness returned in full swing, and you stopped in the middle of the highway (the liberating truth was that you could now stop at any point while driving, without even thinking) and made him switch seats with you. 

The portable loudspeaker he had manufactured out of a big boombox was incredibly loud and workable, and you prepped it just below the windshield. As you drifted into sleep you were thinking about how practically useful this boy can actually be, and how underrated his skills were back in the real world. Even without magic he was extremely handy. He was an amazing cook, he was insanely masterful with electronics, he was more savvy about the internet than you, the child of the web world...

You woke up because he whispered right into your ear, the most gentle order you’ve ever received in your life,

“Wake up now”.

Your neck ached, crooked unnaturally, but, as you opened your eyes, you saw what he woke you up for. Kai seemed relatively unaffected, probably having seen this a million of times; perhaps there was already an alarm clock in his head going off when it was the time for sunset. It was a first for you, though. You were already in Portland, and the car was lazily crawling along the street as the sleepy houses passed you by. Bright pink and raspberry was blooming in the sky indicating the new day, again. The light was so intense that, when you caught the reflection of yourself in the rearview mirror, you saw the shade of red on your own face. Your eyes looked sleepy and foggy. 

“Are we there yet?”

“Yeah. Are you hungry? It’s almost time for breakfast”.

You looked at the electronic wristwatch you nicked from an Epson store. It was a real nineties neat cute wrist watch, and it had lighting button which drove you insane. 

“It’s not even five yet. You’re always hungry”.

“I’ve been driving for nearly three hours. It’s draining. You fell asleep in my car, I drove the whole time, but that’s okay, I’ll just avoid the holes, so you sleep fine”, he declared. You couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He gestured towards the speaker.

“That was a good song”.

“It’s my car”, you argued benevolently, feeling very kind after three hours’ sleep. Due to the fact that Kai has been decent enough to just drive the car without waking you up. And the fact he even turned down the music a little.

“I stole it”.

“You didn’t steal it. It had no owner”, Kai replied. 

He stopped the car in a romantic gesture, and you two drowned in the morning silence, ever quieter than it even was before. The wind lay still, and no bugs buzzed in the grass. You left the car just to be in the moment, to step on the ground and feel its matter, and raised your face to the sky. This was all for you and you only, and that was the first time you asked yourself,

why do they even consider this torture?

The Parker house turned out to be more like a palace. Your head swung back and forth comparing Kai with the wedding cake looking family dwelling, trying to picture him on the porch. There was a traditional old oak that yearned swings, and the big lawn, greener than that of the Salvatore’s possession. There was whiteness of the façade and the depth of the invisible basement.

Soon Kai crawled up the stairs, and sighed, in the yellowish glow of the waking skies. 

“Welcome back home”, he murmured. You tried reading his face to see if it’s hard for him, but then reminded yourself he’s been here already, probably many times.

He’s been suspiciously tolerable these first days, you thought to yourself quietly as you wandered wordless through the living room. The first red flag fluttered in your mind when you threw a look at the banisters of the stairs leading up, and saw two ropes tied to them; they hung down, empty, with loops, like dead cat tails.

“Kai, why is it here?” you asked. The boy was already head first into the fridge in the kitchen.

He walked back to you, and sighed knowingly.

“Oh, yes. They kept the house as I left it at night. As a reminder. Go up the stairs, there’s still blood on the walls, and everything. Let’s go”.

He suddenly grabbed your hand with determination, and you sensed, on the run, like he needed to hold it. Not to guide you. You ran up the stairs, and you threw a quick look at the living room, amazed at the normality of it. One would think Malachai Parker’s house would look horrific, but his tragedy was very American. Pretty cover, bloody insides. The living room had two big couches (big family, it used to be), a very curious L shaped coffee table, and a fireplace. On the shelf above, there was a neat row of photographs of the family: everyone but Malachai, of course. They wished to forget he existed, for one reason or another. Kai’s hand led you on and you went into the long, spacious wooden hall of the second floor out of three: the blood on the walls was fresh, it glistened in the first cloud light. The patterns were thick and wide, like Kai’s been deliberately pouring it around; on the floor, there was a faint trace of his bloodied steps and something else, like he was dragging... a baseball bat? with him.

You tried not to step on the blood. The little window at the end of the hall was covered with a curtain, so it was bleak. 

“Here”, he said enthusiastically. It was obvious Kai has been psyched that someone would share the whole thing with him. No matter what part of prison it was: whether the beautiful sunrises of Washington, or the evidence of the massacre he conducted in his own house.

“Wow, whose room was it?”

“The twins. Luke and Liv”, he pushed the door to let you in. The bed was turned on the side, and there was a puddle of blood under it. The wardrobe was thrashed. 

“This is where I stabbed Jo. She hid them from me with the cloaking spell. I made her talk...” Kai muttered. His eyes were opaque, and he was focused on the memory. His sight shifted under the window.

“The-ere it is”, the witch stepped to the dark spot and picked up the bat, wrapping his fingers around the handle. There was blood on the tip of it. He swung the bat in the air in a motion that made you understand he could be a baseball star. Could have been. 

“And the banisters? Who was there?”

“I hung Ashley and Sam”, he said, putting the bat back against the wall. You observed the room. His siblings, they all had names. Ashley, Sam... those who made it to the future, the twins and his own personal enemy, Josette, felt more real because you have met them. You were there when Kai merged with Luke, you witnessed his death. But to think that some of the Parkers were left in the ninety-four, hung down from the stairs, and they were children who had names... Ashley and Sam. You didn’t even know whether Sam was a boy or a girl. You asked him.

“They were best friends, Sam and Ash. Samantha was two years older than Ashley, and she was so uptight I think somebody would have killed her one way or another. She was unbearable. So bitter she didn’t have a twin, she told everybody Ashley was her age, and that they were twins, although everyone in the coven knew they weren’t”.

“She was just a child, Kai. She wanted to be a part of this important thing, too”, you shrugged.

“Yeah, so did I. You wanna see my parents’ bedroom?”

He probably saw it in your eyes that you were slowly growing anxious about the whole murder night replay. 

“What did you do to your mom?”

“I stabbed her in the throat. She had to go first, she was a very powerful witch”, Kai said quietly, watching you closely. He was cruel in a way, leading you deeper into the bleak reality of his, trying you, curious as to how much you can take. 

“I made a mistake with dad. Should’ve stabbed him, too, but I thought I’d be untrivial, and I poisoned him. Which obviously backfired right into my face”.

Kai put his hand through his dark hair, and you realized his eyes are glowing nervously.

“What made you snap?”

“When our birthdays were coming up, I realized they’d never let us merge. Even Jo herself didn’t want it. Just so you understand, merging and even dying, as a Gemini twin, is the biggest event of your life. Even if you lose, you’re not gone. You live through your twin. You give them your power”.

You weren’t saying anything. He went on,

“You think I’m inherently evil?” there wasn’t a trace of indignation in his voice; just sheer curiosity. He never had a chance to ask that anybody. He never had this conversation. He just didn’t know at all. “They always told me I was”.

“There’s no such thing as evil, Kai. It’s a tale created for kids, to make them afraid of giving in to their instincts. There’s only pain and its consequences”.

You looked away not to seem too invested. You wondered how one can let a fellow human go on for nearly fifty years with such a grave misconception about themselves; how one can allow such violence upon their own child. Violence and negligence so intense it makes them act out so aggressively, so loudly. Every single blood stain, every broken wooden thing, every swing of a bat in the hands of now twenty-two year old Malachai, was a cry, not a roar of evil deed. He was so disfigured. He was so wounded he had to inflict pain on others to be heard. And yet they didn’t hear anything except their own screams. 

You wanted to ask him the same question, am I bad for liking you so much? But you knew he had no answer. Kai was very knowledgeable about many things; he understood many things you didn’t, but he knew nothing about the philosophy of morale. He had no deep feelings, he had no deep core in him. It was burnt clean long time ago. 

Am I evil for not feeling sorry for the kids you hung from the banisters? 

Am I bad for rooting for you when you were merging with Luke?

Am I bad for siding with you against my oldest friends?

Am I bad for being the only one who gave you the benefit of the doubt, just for the sake of being the only one?

After all, it takes just one person to keep someone from breaking. But when Malachai finally killed his family, when he reached the breaking point to never be innocent again, you were still a month away from being born. 

“Take the books outside”, you asked him.

Kai looked up from the table. He was reading diligently, not skipping pages, and watching him got tedious after three hours. While he was on it, you trod through the front and back yard; made sandwiches; studied the pictures of the kids; sneaked into the basement and got horrified at the sight of Kai’s ‘room’ there. 

(Yeah, it became my room for a while, he yapped from the kitchen. He laughed at your eyes, widened in horror, yeah, it was real pain. They kept me there when they had people over... pretended I don’t exist)

His real room used to be upstairs, underneath the roof, but it became Jo’s space eventually, and there was no trace of Malachai there. It was sad how there were so very few signs of the oldest child in the house. No posters, no shoes at the door, no jackets, no used tissues, no sports awards. No clothes, no mess, no boy things, no magazines, no CDs, no skateboard. There was a TV in the basement, and a bed, a nightstand, and a couple of comic books in the drawers of it, and you felt there was a huge chunk of Kai missing, as if they had got rid of all the things reminding of him, as if it was him who died. 

“Take the books outside”.

“Why?”

“I’m tired. I want to sleep. Let’s go into the city, find a hotel or a big house, and you can read there”.

Kai looked around as if saying, isn’t it the house enough?

You didn’t know how to explain to him that staying in this place was terrible. Kai clearly missed this place although you didn’t know what he was holding on to. The family he missed was clearly an illusion. He craved the real bond, the concept of loving community, not the actual Parker people. 

“I want to burn down this house”.

He tilted his head and his mouth twitched. 

“Have you ever done it?”

“Why would I burn my own house?” 

“You’ve spent eighteen years here, and...”

“Look”, he put up his palms defensively, “obviously, you are a very creative individual with a different way of thinking, and I haven’t done half of the things you come up with, while I was here, but if you’re gonna ask me this question every time you have an idea...”

“You know fire is cleansing, right? You should know, you’re able to control it. Isn’t fire an important element of witchery?”

“Mhm”.

He wasn’t offended by the idea. He was just a little susprised. 

As Kai stepped outside, bringing the last books into the trunk of the (ugly) Buick parked in the driveway, you watched him there on the lawn. Maybe he really was the cancer his family made him to be. He looked like a hyena looking around for a dying animal to chew on. He despised this place, and its lightness, and the fact his surviving relatives thought of the exquisite way of reminding him about what he’s done. And he went around busily, like a bee mama, at the same time.

The house still reeked of blood, and frankly, you didn’t know how he could even think about sleeping here. 

You threw a match on the couch, and another one down into the basement. You knew the house would restore as soon as midnight comes, but by that time you’ll be far away from here. Wherever the books send you to. 

You’ve never seen a house on fire so close. The heat was burning your face, and you knew it burns Kai, too, so you pulled on his hand to make him step away. 

“What sucks the most is that I had every right to merge with her”, Kai said suddenly. You had to step closer to hear him over the immense screech and cracking of the house.

There was deep, pure hatred in his voice as he spoke about his sister. You realized that his bitterness about her betrayal is still fresh, and the merge did nothing to heal it. It was personal. She was his to kill.

“I would’ve shown her if she only had given me a chance. You know? Nobody believed I could win, because I’m a siphoner. But if they only gave me a chance, I would’ve tried my best and I would’ve been a good coven leader”.

“You are already”, you said. Kai squeezed your fingers with his stiff palm.

“Once we get out”, he said, dead eyes staring into you, “there’ll be no coven. I will end every single one of them”.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine #vampire diaries

[invisibleicewands]

Staged's Anna Lundberg and Georgia Tennant: 'Scenes with all four of us usually involved alcohol'

Not many primetime TV hits are filmed by the show’s stars inside their own homes. However, 2020 wasn’t your average year. During the pandemic, productions were shut down and workarounds had to be found – otherwise the terrestrial schedules would have begun to look worryingly empty. Staged was the surprise comedy hit of the summer.

This playfully meta short-form sitcom, airing in snack-sized 15-minute episodes, found A-list actors Michael Sheen and David Tennant playing an exaggerated version of themselves, bickering and bantering as they tried to perfect a performance of Luigi Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author over Zoom.

Having bonded while co-starring in Good Omens, Amazon’s TV adaptation of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s novel, Sheen, 51, and Tennant, 49, became best buddies in real life. In Staged, though, they’re comedically reframed as frenemies – warm, matey and collaborative, but with a cut-throat competitiveness lurking just below the surface. As they grew ever more hirsute and slobbish in lockdown, their virtual relationship became increasingly fraught.

It was soapily addictive and hilariously thespy, while giving a voyeuristic glimpse of their interior decor and domestic lives – with all the action viewed through their webcams.

Yet it was the supporting cast who lifted Staged to greatness,Their director Simon Evans, forced to dance around the pair’s fragile egos and piggy-in-the-middle of their feuds. Steely producer Jo, played by Nina Sosanya, forever breaking off from calls to bellow at her poor, put-upon PA. And especially the leading men’s long-suffering partners, both actors in real life, Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg.

Georgia Tennant comes from showbiz stock, as the child of Peter Davison and Sandra Dickinson. At 36 she is an experienced actor and producer, who made her TV debut in Peak Practice aged 15. She met David on Doctor Who 2008, when she played the Timelord’s cloned daughter Jenny. Meanwhile, the Swedish Lundberg, 26, is at the start of her career. She left drama school in New York two years ago and Staged is her first big on-screen role.

Married for nine years, the Tennants have five children and live in west London. The Lundberg-Sheens have been together two years, have a baby daughter, Lyra, and live outside Port Talbot in south Wales. On screen and in real life, the women have become firm friends and frequent scene-stealers.

Staged proved so successful that it’s now back for a second series. We set up a video call with Tennant and Lundberg to discuss lockdown life, wine consumption, home schooling (those two may be related) and the blurry line between fact and fiction…

Was doing Staged a big decision, because it’s so personal and set in your homes? Georgia Tennant: We’d always been a very private couple. Staged was everything we’d never normally say yes to. Suddenly, our entire house is on TV and so is a version of the relationship we’d always kept private. But that’s the way to do it, I guess. Go to the other extreme. Just rip off the Band-Aid.

Anna Lundberg: Michael decided pretty quickly that we weren’t going to move around the house at all. All you see is the fireplace in our kitchen.

GT: We have five children, so it was just about which room was available.

AL: But it’s not the real us. It’s not a documentary.

GT: Although some people think it is.

Which fictional parts of the show do people mistake for reality? GT: People think I’m really a novelist because “Georgia” writes a novel in Staged. They’ve asked where they can buy my book. I should probably just write one now because I’ve done the marketing already.

AL: People worry about our elderly neighbour, who gets hospitalised in the show. She doesn’t actually exist in real life but people have approached Michael in Tesco’s, asking if she’s OK.

Michael and David squabble about who’s billed first in Staged. Does that reflect real life? AL: With Good Omens, Michael’s name was first for the US market and David’s was first for the British market. So those scenes riffed on that.

Should we call you Georgia and Anna, or Anna and Georgia? GT: Either. We’re super-laidback about these things.

AL: Unlike certain people.

How well did you know each other before Staged? GT: We barely knew each other. We’ve now forged a friendship by working on the show together.

AL: We’d met once, for about 20 minutes. We were both pregnant at the time – we had babies a month apart – so that was pretty much all we talked about.

Did you tidy up before filming? AL: We just had to keep one corner relatively tidy.

GT: I’m quite a tidy person, but I didn’t want to be one of those annoying Instagram people with perfect lives. So strangely, I had to add a bit of mess… dot a few toys around in the background. I didn’t want to be one of those insufferable people – even though, inherently, I am one of those people.

Was there much photobombing by children or pets? AL: In the first series, Lyra was still at an age where we could put her in a baby bouncer. Now that’s not working at all. She’s just everywhere. Me and Michael don’t have many scenes together in series two, because one of us is usually Lyra-wrangling.

GT: Our children aren’t remotely interested. They’re so unimpressed by us. There’s one scene where Doris, our five-year-old, comes in to fetch her iPad. She doesn’t even bother to glance at what we’re doing.

How was lockdown for you both? AL: I feel bad saying it, but it was actually good for us. We were lucky enough to be in a big house with a garden. For the first time since we met, we were in one place. We could just focus on Lyra . To see her grow over six months was incredible. She helped us keep a steady routine, too.

GT: Ours was similar. We never spend huge chunks of time together, so it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. At least until David’s career goes to shit and he’s just sat at home. The flipside was the bleakness. Being in London, there were harrowing days when everything was silent but you’d just hear sirens going past, as a reminder that something awful was going on. So I veered between “This is wonderful” and “This is the worst thing that ever happened.”

And then there was home schooling… GT: Which was genuinely the worst thing that ever happened.

You’ve spent a lot of time on video calls, clearly. What are your top Zooming tips? GT: Raise your camera to eye level by balancing your laptop on a stack of books. And invest in a ring light.

AL: That’s why you look so much better. We just have our sad kitchen light overhead, which makes us look like one massive shiny forehead.

GT: Also, always have a good mug on the go [raises her cuppa to the camera and it’s a Michael Sheen mug]. Someone pranked David on the job he’s shooting at the moment by putting a Michael Sheen mug in his trailer. He brought it home and now I use it every morning. I’m magically drawn to drinking out of Michael.

There’s a running gag in series one about the copious empties in Michael’s recycling. Did you lean into lockdown boozing in real life? AL: Not really. We eased off when I was pregnant and after Lyra was born. We’d just have a glass of wine with dinner.

GT: Yes, definitely. I often reach for a glass of red in the show, which was basically just an excuse to continue drinking while we were filming: “I think my character would have wine and cake in this scene.” The time we started drinking would creep slightly earlier. “We’ve finished home schooling, it’s only 4pm, but hey…” We’ve scaled it back to just weekends now.

How did you go about creating your characters with the writer Simon Evans? AL: He based the dynamic between David and Michael on a podcast they did together. Our characters evolved as we went along.

GT: I was really kind and understanding in the first draft. I was like “I don’t want to play this, it’s no fun.” From the first few tweaks I made, Simon caught onto the vibe, took that and ran with it.

Did you struggle to keep a straight face at times? AL: Yes, especially the scenes with all four of us, when David and Michael start improvising.

GT: I was just drunk, so I have no recollection.

AL: Scenes with all four of us were normally filmed in the evening, because that’s when we could be child-free. Usually there was alcohol involved, which is a lot more fun.

GT: There’s a long scene in series two where we’re having a drink. During each take, we had to finish the glass. By the end, we were all properly gone. I was rewatching it yesterday and I was so pissed.

What else can you tell us about series two? GT: Everyone’s in limbo. Just as we think things are getting back to normal, we have to take three steps back again. Everyone’s dealing with that differently, shall we say.

AL: In series one, we were all in the same situation. By series two, we’re at different stages and in different emotional places.

GT: Hollywood comes calling, but things are never as simple as they seem.

There were some surprise big-name cameos in series one, with Samuel L Jackson and Dame Judi Dench suddenly Zooming in. Who can we expect this time around? AL: We can’t name names, but they’re very exciting.

GT: Because series one did so well, and there’s such goodwill towards the show, we’ve managed to get some extraordinary people involved. This show came from playing around just to pass the time in lockdown. It felt like a GCSE end-of-term project. So suddenly, when someone says: “Samuel L Jackson’s in”, it’s like: “What the fuck’s just happened?”

AL: It took things to the next level, which was a bit scary.

GT: It suddenly felt like: “Some people might actually watch this.”

How are David and Michael’s hair and beard situations this time? AL: We were in a toyshop the other day and Lyra walked up to these Harry Potter figurines, pointed at Hagrid and said: “Daddy!” So that explains where we’re at. After eight months of lockdown, it was quite full-on.

GT: David had a bob at one point. Turns out he’s got annoyingly excellent hair. Quite jealous. He’s also grown a slightly unpleasant moustache.

Is David still wearing his stinky hoodie? GT: I bought him that as a gift. It’s actually Paul Smith loungewear. In lockdown, he was living in it. It’s pretty classy, but he does manage to make it look quite shit.

#Michael Sheen #David Tennant #Staged #Staged 2 #Georgia Tennant #The tidy corner #we noticed it #Staged2 #SwedishFishAL

[pagingevilspawn]

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter seven

i actually hate this, so ew. but i’ve forgotten that i write, so i’ll try to type some stuff up tomorrow! regardless, i hope everyone enjoys! click here to read on ao3. 

TW// domestic abuse

~*~

"small town boy in a big arcade. i got addicted to a losing game."

~*~

alexandra: you do realize how crazy that sounds right?

joseph: it's not crazy at all if you ask me.

alexandra: jo, asking for lollipops for your christmas present sounds very crazy to me.

and christmas isn't for like, a while.

joseph: dude, christmas is in two weeks and one day

and plus, i'm settling on lollipops. what i really want is a pony, a shiny, pretty one with rainbow hair, you know those? that's my dream right there

alexandra: oh crap really?

yeah yeah, ha ha. laughing so much right now.

joseph: hate to break it to you, but it's the 10th alex.

and i know, what a shame i wont be able to have my pony. it was at the top of my list this year

next to an ice cream sundae the size of manhattan, obviously.

alexandra: very funny. can't you tell how much i'm laughing.

crap, got to go, robbins is letting me in on an esophageal atresia on a newborn. i'm her favorite you know.

joseph: ugh, lucky.

make sure to kick ass and not kill anyone. that would suck. 

actually... your big head could use some ego deflating. make sure robbins has to save you halfway through. maybe then you'll earn some humility.  

alexandra: wow, you're such great help. so nice too.

joseph: you know it ;)

she turns off her phone, a small smile on her face as she looks out the window, passing by houses that all looked exactly alike; white exteriors with a bright green lawn. the only thing that could help someone tell them apart was the door colors. her and paul had just come back from a dinner with some of his coworkers, but he wasn't talking to her so she decided to text alex. the silence in the car was tense, though she was unable to grasp the reason why.

they'd been texting non-stop since the conference three weeks ago, talking about each other's days, complaining about annoying coworkers and classmates. they really enjoyed having a friend they could just talk to because they felt like it. it was refreshing. they'd never had anyone like that before. in the past they had friends that they felt comfortable around, but it was different when you had someone who understood you so well. not to mention, being able to make self deprecating jokes about their crappy childhoods and receive a laugh in response was so much nicer than the pity stares they were both so used to getting,

she snaps back to reality at the sound of the engine turning off, cutting the music as the expensive car door opens. she sees paul angrily walk out of the car, slamming the door behind him, not stopping by her side of the car to open the door for her like he normally did. (she was actually thankful for that. she was a grown women, she could open a damn door herself)

weird, she thinks, but decides not to question it. her husband had been a bit more moody and temperamental lately, so she supposed it was just that. but the dinner seemed to go really good in her opinion. she got along with his colleagues and paul certainly enjoyed himself, getting to be around all his coworkers and interact freely. she liked to think that his colleagues liked her as well. they complimented her all evening and included her in all of their conversations. though, she did wish that they would've referred to her by her name more, rather than 'mrs. stalder' or 'paul's wife.'

she gets out of the passenger side and shuts the door behind her, walking up to the steps after she hears that paul had locked the car. she places the small clutch she had on the entry table and walks to the kitchen, seeing paul sitting at the kitchen island, nothing in front of him except tea that he had heated up in the minute or so he'e been in there. she kisses his cheek and starts talking, knowing that it would probably help calm whatever he was feeling.

she gives him a smile, rubbing his shoulder affectionately. "it seemed like the dinner went really well, all of your coworkers are super nice and-"

"you talked to steven too much." he cuts her off, sending an icy glare her way, and look she had never seen on him before shining darkly in his eyes.

she cocks her head to the side, "huh?"

he stands up from his place abruptly, making her jump back slightly. "i said," he spits out, eyes narrowing as he stares her down "you talked to steven too much."

she lets out a loud laugh, thinking that he was just joking around and messing with her. at any second he was going to join her giggling, ignoring the way his eyes had only seemed to darken the second the sounds had escaped her mouth."oh, that's funny." she says in between laughs, eyes shining with childish glee. "jesus you really scared m-"

pain.

her words get cut off by a fist coming directly into contact with her face. she feels the stinging sensation burn from her eye to her cheek, her brown eyes watering with tears as she realizes what had just happened. she lifts a palm up to touch it protectively, almost making it seem like it was more real if she touched it.

oh god, it hurt. it hurt like hell. his gold wedding band adding to the impact was sure to leave a scar by the corner of her eye. she'd been punched before, multiple times actually by foster parents and girls while she was in high school, but this hurt so much more. it was so much harder than she'd ever been hit before.

her husband just hit her.

"oh brooke, baby." paul says, taking her into his arms and brushing her hair back immediately, trying to get her to relax into his embrace. "i just got so mad. you just made me so mad brooke. you can't make me mad like that" he tells her, eyes dripping with some kind of emotion she can't place as he places light kisses on top of her sea of brown curls, ignoring the way the way she stood stiffly in his arms, a few lone tears making it's way down her cheeks.  

"i love you. you know that brooke" he whispers, wiping the tears from her face, his hands feeling usually rough against her skin, his touch not easing over the bruise that hard already begun to form.

she nods. it was okay. he loved her. he didn't mean it. he just got angry. it was okay. it was fine. he loved her, it was okay.

she thought she probably deserved it. after all she'd cheated on her husband just three weeks before, and had continued to keep in contact with the man she had cheated with. it was only karma.  

"i'm sorry paul." she apologizes sincerely as he cups her face in his hands, giving her a sweet smile. it wasn't his fault. it was hers.  

"it just better not happen again." he states, eyes burning into hers intently, his grip on her face tightening without her even realizing it. all she really felt was numb, as if all of her senses had seemingly shut down to avoid dealing with the pain that was spreading throughout the side of her face.

she nods her head up and down as she pulls her back into him. "i'm sorry" she whispers into his chest.

he smiled.

and that's when he knew he had her.

____

alex finished scrubbing out of a surgery, shaking off the excess water on his hands, grinning internally. it was always so much better when he was able to help save a kid. the success was just that much more fulfilling. he's about to push the door open when it swings in itself, making him come face to face with cristina, the expression she was wearing was more worried looking than he'd seen in a long time. he'd known yang for a while know, and he knew whatever was about to come out of her mouth would be bad. cristina yang was never worried.

"what do you want yang?" he asks, noting how she had her hands crossed over her chest and was avoiding his gaze.

"there's a merger happening." she says, looking up to meet his eyes to let him know that she was serious.

his narrows his eyes, scrunching up his nose. "what?" he questions. a merger? as in, combing two hospitals into one?  

"you just missed the announcement. apparently we're merging with mercy west." the raven head repeats, a slight trace of fear in her voice, a very unusual thing for cristina yang.

he lets out a deep breath, tugging his scrub cap off and running a hand through his hair as he leans over the scrub sink, gripping it so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white. "i can't loose this job yang." he says to her softly, making her nod in agreement.

"you and me both." with that she walks out of the room, alex not far behind her, both of the surgeons heading up to the resident's lounge to change, which was filled to the brim with chatter, all of the doctors talking about the newest topic, the merger.

meredith sits down next to him, slipping a long sleeved purple shirt over her head when she casts a glance to alex, who was sitting still looking down at his phone's empty screen, seemingly deep in thought, almost as if he was waiting for something to magically appear on it.

the blonde nudges him, snapping him out of his trance. alex sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he buries his head in his hands. "what am i gonna do about iz?" he asks her, judging by her face that she was drawing a blank, much like him.

jesus, this was great. these past few weeks he had hardy been able to look his wife in the eye, because every time he saw her he was reminded that he slept with someone else. not to mention, he was just texting that certain someone just a few hours ago. he was really screwed. izzie had currently been home on bedrest, not being allowed to return to work until two weeks from now, which apparently would also be when the mercy westers would turn up. fucking great. he felt as if the universe was rallying against him at this point, no matter how much he knew that wasn't possible. he dug his own grave, it was just a matter of time before he would need to lay in it.

"she'll be okay." meredith reassures him, but he can tell by the look on her face that she was unsure as well. who knew would end up getting cut? they would need to pull their heads out of their asses and prove that they deserved to stay. none of them could lose their spot. not only because of their job, but also because of the people there. they were a family. they couldn't lose any more of their family. they'd just lost george, and they couldn't lose another.

"evil spawn, put on a shirt!" cristina yells, balling up a shirt from his locker and throwing it at him, hitting him square in the chest as he glares at her. he pulls on the shirt silently and heads out, not bothering to say goodbye to anybody as he leaves the lounge and heads straight to joe's across the street.

he slides onto a barstool, ordering a beer and thanking the bartender with a slight nod of his head. how was he supposed to tell izzie about the merger? he knew that if his wife knew, she would want to return to work immediately, but he knew she couldn't do that. she was still getting her strength back, and standing around on her feet all day surely would delay the healing process. he couldn't risk her getting hurt because he wasn't able to stop her.

he'd done enough recently, even if izzie didn't know about most of it. the last thing he needed was to cause his wife more harm than he already had.

he was going to tell her, he knew that, just not right now. right now he was going to sit on this uncomfortable wooden bar stool and drink his beer and forget he had any problems. he was going to forget about the merger, he was going to forget about him and izzie going at it twenty-four seven, and he was definitely going to forget about the brunette with a fake name who seemed to be on his mind all the time.

he was just going to forget everything, his only focus being his beer and the football game on the small television above the bar. yeah, that sounded like a good idea. a really good idea.

____

okay, so he forgot about two out of those three things.

he was actually doing pretty good for a while, almost a full hour with nearly a beer and a half finished. all he had been focused on was the seahawks playing against the steelers, with the steelers crushing the seattle team thirty-four to seven. not much of a surprise though, he couldn't remember the last time he'd witnessed the seahawks win. it wasn't that they were a completely crap team, it was simply the fact that one; the steelers were much better this year, and two; he hardly ever got enough time to sit down and watch a game. being a resident drained the life out of him, especially since he had finally knew that he wanted to specialize in peds. when he wasn't at the hospital he was reading up new medical procedures in magazines, or occasionally sneaking over to meredith's to watch old ellis grey tapes.  

he was doing really... until he got a text message from jo.

joseph: how was your surgery?

alexandra: wow, you must be bored.

joseph: ...

what makes you say that?

alexandra: really?

joseph: i'm in med school, thank you very much. i have a severe interest in your surgeries. 

alexandra: mhm, sure.

joseph: fine, i'm bored. entertain me. please.

alexandra: that sounds vaguely dirty.

joseph: oh great. how drunk are you?

alexandra: what makes you say that?

haha, two can play that game.

joseph: i'm guessing two beers in?

alexandra: shut up, only one and a half.

joseph: mhm, wasn't too far off

but seriously. i'm bored and am in need of anything remotely interesting. you just scrubbed in on a super cool surgery, i want details

alexandra: fine, baby maria duboir, two weeks old, robbins let me lead the procedure about half way through, coded once, we then shocked her at 150, and now she is stable and in the NICU.

happy?

joseph: yes. very much so

although i do think your OR stories need work

you sound like you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about

alexandra

wow. you're a real delight you know that?

joseph: oh, believe me, i know. don't even get me started on how many times people have complimented how freaking amazing i am

it's quite a common occurrence.  

if i had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, i'd be living on my own private island

alexandra: i bet you would.

seriously though, tell me something. i've got nothing better to do than watch the seahawks get crushed.

joseph: i'm guessing that's sports talk, so i'm just gonna ignore that, since it hate any sport where men look like giant block of cheese, run around a court, or just run in general.

but today's been boring. went to a dinner tonight. fancy stuck-up rich people who laugh with posh accents and sip their champagne way too slowly

fucking turtles.

alexandra: sounds fun.

joseph: you suck. i can literally hear the sarcasm through the phone asshole

alexandra: that's the point. i'll take a sick kid over fancy dinner any day.

crap, that sounded really horrible didn't it?

joseph: it really did

"i'll take a sick kid over a fancy dinner any day" real charming if you ask me. night in shining amour.

alexandra

yeah yeah you know what i mean.

____

they're not sure how long they end up talking for, alex siting at joe's bar and jo lounging on the couch in her living room while her husband was in his study going over and grading tests for one of his classes. before either one of them even know it, it gets to be twelve thirty boston time and nine thirty in seattle. alex's texts had gotten much harder to read, which made sense, considering he was now on his third beer.

jo teased him about it though, finding it more enjoyable than she would've guessed to text a drunk alex than a sober one. he seemed to get increasingly flirtier the tipsier he got. not to mention, all the spelling mistakes he made was definitely one for the books. she had a feeling that it was getting a but harder for him to see which letters where which, considering a few b's were located where there should be d's, and 'm' where they should be an 'n'

alex knows for a fact he's earning many stares from fellow people at the bar because of how much he's laughing (loudly too), but he doesn't really care. if he's gonna laugh, he's gonna laugh. all he could really focus on was the fluorescent lights hanging from the bar's wood ceiling and the frankly hilarious texts coming through his phone. (okay, so they weren't that funny, but everything is always a lot more funny when you're drunk)

jo was thoroughly enjoying herself, laughing more and more as she sank into the couch, completely forgetting about the bruise on her left cheek as she typed away, grinning from ear to ear when the man on the other side responded, words misspelt and random numbers and semicolons popping up from time to time.

they knew that what they had done was wrong. they knew that what they were doing was wrong. but they couldn't stop.

if only they had stopped sooner.

#jolex #jolex fic #jolex fanfic #jolex fanfiction #jo wilson #alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson karev #cristina yang #brooke stadler #paul stadler #meredith grey #joes bar #greys #greys anatomy #greys abc #greys anatomy fic #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy fanfiction #jo x alex #alex x jo #affair #loving you is a losing game #camilla luddington #justin chambers #jolex is endgame #screw 16x16 #payton writes

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 2: Dead Or Alive

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Y/N faces her first real defeat.

Word count: 6.1k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

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“Stay alive,” she’d said to him before they’d set off.

Of all the things she’d wanted to say, she’d chosen those two words. And he’d smiled at her, adjusted her shoulder pads and said, “You, too.”

She wished they could have kissed or at least hugged, but since they weren’t alone, they could only tell each other to stay alive. Stay alive because I’d rather it be me than you. Because you’re all I’ve got left. Because I don’t want to be alone.

Stay alive, Harry, she thought as she watched him mount his horse and then told herself, You too, Y/N. Stay alive.

She and Lance, followed by Harry, led a group of fifty veterans and horses and ten carriages carrying supplies to the northern border. This would be the first time she’d travelled there, which possibly explained the sinking feeling in her stomach. Either that or something bad was going to happen, and she didn’t want to presume it was the latter. Once in a while, Y/N would keep glancing over her shoulder to check on Harry, despite the fact that he couldn’t just vanish into thin air.

“To be honest, I’m quite offended,” Lance said as they rode knee to knee. “I did my hair nicely today and you wouldn’t even notice.”

“Your hair looks the same.”

“See? You wouldn’t even notice,” he said with a smirk, and she pretended to try to shove him off his white horse.

“What’s her name?” she asked.

“Midnight.”

“You named your white horse Midnight?”

“You’re just jealous that my horse’s name is more intimidating than your horse’s,” he scoffed, eyeing her stallion. “Thunder? Really?”

Thunder huffed in disgust and walked faster to get ahead of Lance. Y/N couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the look on the King’s face, and suddenly, she was glad Lance had come with them; someone must distract her from this unwilling anxiety.

By the time the sun was directly overhead, they’d reached the northern forest. It was all so quiet until someone at the back shouted, “Look!” Harry lifted a hand, and everyone stalled. In front of them was a giant pillar of smoke rising from the tops of the trees, blackening the white sky.

“Fire,” Y/N and Lance said at the same time then exchanged the same worrying look. She knew he could feel it, too. Trouble.

“Your Majesty—” Harry began, but she didn’t let him finish.

“We must save them.”

“Y/N!” Harry snapped; he didn’t care if that was disrespectful to his Queen, but Y/N didn’t care, either. Her people were dying and she was here. She could not turn a blind eye to it and flee.

She looked to her left. “Lance?”

The King pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, ‘fuck’ under his breath. He didn’t try to talk her out of it, so she took it as a yes and kicked her horse into a gallop, heading for the smoke pillar. High-pitched screams of men, women and children from the distance urged her to ride as fast as she could, ducking all the branches and holding tightly onto Thunder.

When she turned to her left, there was Lance, riding on Midnight. On her right was Harry; he’d caught up with them, his face pinched with a scowl, and she wasn’t sure if he was angry at the situation or at her. As their eyes met, she cast him a look that was meant to be an apology and could only hope that he understood.

They continued chasing the screams. The quieter it got, the louder Y/N’s heart was pounding. Soon they broke out of the forest into an open field. Y/N was the first to get there, but it was already too late.

The village was afire in a dozen places. The houses had burned almost to the ground. Black corpses were scattered all over the blood-stained snow. If there had been animals, there weren’t any now. Nothing but silence and emptiness.

Y/N felt tears sting her eyes but she didn’t let herself cry in front of her men. Most of them expected her to be the scared little girl who would run home as soon as she saw dead people.

Sadly, they were right. Y/N felt sick in her stomach. She wanted to leave. This wasn’t a good idea. And yet, she sat frozen on Thunder’s back and took in the devastating scene before her eyes, and for one second, she could have sworn she saw Egon crawling out of the ashes. But it was just a man, or a woman, burned from head toes, wiggling desperately before going limp.

“Find those who are still alive,” she heard Harry say. “Rescue as many as you can.” She turned to him, looking through the tears, and when he mouthed at her, “I got you,” she felt partly relieved. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t alone in this. He was here. And they would fight together if they had to.

“Scared?” Lance asked. She wondered if the look on his face was supposed to be mocking or sympathetic, but she didn't reply and redirected her horse, following Harry.

They rode silently side by side, passing the houses that were still ablaze and looking for signs of life in the burning ruins. Smoke made her eyes water some more and she covered her mouth with the fur of her coat.

“You’re good?” Harry asked. She liked the businesslike sound of the question. It reminded her that this was serious, and she still needed to keep her guards up even when there were just the two of them.

Still, she had to ask, “Are you mad at me?”

Harry pulled Lightning to a halt and turned to her. A line appeared between his brows. “I’m mad at myself.”

“Why?”

“I should have been more creative at convincing you to stay home,” he said, a corner of his mouth arched.

“There was nothing you could have done to make me stay home,” she told him.

“I could have threatened to hang myself or something, maybe jump out of the window.”

“Don’t say that!”

He smiled that beautiful smile, and a scream tore through the silence, sharp and thin. Thunder huffed unhappily and turned around as if he could sense where it’d come from. He galloped ahead and Lightning quickly followed.

The horses stopped near a burning house and Thunder’s ears swivelled; at the same time, Y/N spotted a slender dark shape. She slid down Thunder’s back, caught the woman by the arms and dragged her back from the flames. Her hands came away sticky with blood. The woman made a fainter sound of pain, unable to speak. The light of the burning house illuminated her. She’d had her throat cut, but not well enough to kill her at once.

She’d also been pregnant. Y/N laid a hand on her belly, but it didn’t stir, and there was a great, dripping wound there. The woman was gasping, her lips blue and cracked. Her dim eyes sought Y/N’s face as Y/N took her bloody hand in hers.

“My child,” the woman whispered. “Where is she? I can’t hear her cry.”

Y/N could feel Harry watching her from his horse. She could feel the weight of his powerless look on her shoulders. They both knew this woman was going to die in Y/N’s arms. Like Jo had. Y/N had managed to bring Jo back, but she didn't have magic to save this poor woman.

“Did they—“ the woman gasped. “Did they hurt my baby?”

“No,” Y/N uttered, smiling despite her tears. “Your child is safe. Don’t you worry. Be at peace.”

She knew she’d be damned for eternity for lying to a dying person, but this woman was facing a painful death and the last thing she needed was to hear that her child had never made it into this world.

Y/N was soaked with the woman’s blood and burning with shame, that she’d been hiding behind the curtain walls for months while these innocent folks paid for the anger she’d caused. She held the dead body of a stranger to her chest, then began to weep.

“Someone is here,” Harry said. Y/N snapped her head up to find her lover’s face taut with listening. “Someone—”

The bitter wind rose to a shriek, but not loud enough to mask the howl and thump of an arrow. One of her soldiers cried out. Y/N’s stomach twisted when she saw strong men on stocky horses riding down on them from every side, blades flashing in the high winter sun.

“AMBUSH!” she shouted and vaulted to her horse just as Harry roared, “ATTACK!”

The horses reared, startled by the first rush, and more arrows fell. The men drew together at once, surrounding their Queen. No one panicked. All the men were veterans who had ridden with her father in his wars.

The attackers galloped straight toward Y/N's men. The two groups met body to body, and then the swords rang out—swords? Y/N stiffened. How did folks carry such expensive weapons?

When Y/N caught Harry’s eyes, she believed he shared the same thought, but this wasn’t time for theories. In a second, everything turned to madness. Y/N blocked a spear-thrust, split the shaft with a downstroke, and cut down viciously, felling the first man who tried her. Thunder reared and lashed out with his forefeet, and three more attackers, riding smaller horses, drew back in fear. Right at that moment, a vision flashed before Y/N’s eyes. The same one with a blade thrusting through Harry’s chest. “Harry!” she snapped. “Get out! Don’t—”

But he was fighting on his own, unbothered by her warning. Lightning was helping her rider as much as she could, her kicks sending the enemies flying; her hooves caved in their skulls. Y/N took a sword-stroke to the forearm, yelped out in pain, and beheaded the man who gave it to her.

How many of them could there be? They couldn’t outnumber her group, could they?

She saw Lance’s white horse kick out, breaking a man’s leg and sending his horse crashing to the snow. Lance gutted another and booted him out of the saddle. A few of her own men fell, and then the battle grew desperate.

“Harry!” snapped Y/N. “Get out of there!”

But he couldn’t. He’d been cornered to a burning house, and Y/N’s heart stopped as she watched him being thrown off Lightning’s back.

“No!” she roared and kicked Thunder into a gallop towards Harry, but before she could reach him, she heard a whistle of an arrow and Thunder neighed loudly before he collapsed. A bone cracked. She was stuck under her horse. “Get up, boy! Get up!” she screamed desperately while trying to seek Harry in the chaos. A man charged toward him, and he retrieved his sword fast enough to stop the first blow.

Y/N mustered all her strength to free herself from Thunder. The horse was alive but badly wounded. Y/N was in tears when she decided to leave the poor animal lying there and limped toward Harry. She swung her sword and killed two men who came at her.

“Y/N!” Harry shouted.

She turned quickly and the man who was holding a sword above his head fell to her feet. Lance was behind him, his blade dripping with red blood. Their eyes met and he gave her a shove. “Go! I’ll help Harry!”

A horse charged out of nowhere and kicked Lance hard. His body hit a trunk of a tree but he managed to get up fast enough to fence another strike. Y/N gutted another man, still fighting her way toward Harry in case Lance could not. But then she recognised the scene.

Harry fell to his knees, his weapon sliding out of his grip, and he brought his hands up to his stomach, his eyes sought hers as blood came pouring out of the fresh wound.

A scream tore through her. She didn’t even know if she’d just called out his name. She’d seen this in her dream last night and many nights before. She tried to run with a broken ankle but she couldn't be faster than the arrow flying straight into her back. She felt nothing when she crashed for the second time. The sounds around her were muffled. The world blurred around the edges. Before her vision turned black, she saw Lance fall into a puddle of his own blood and the man standing beside Harry lift his blade.

.

.

.

Y/N awoke screaming.

She was in her bed. Had it all been a dream? “Harry! Harry!”

“Y/N, it’s me. It’s Jo!” Jo caught Y/N right before she could throw herself out of the bed and tugged her into her arms. As Y/N tried to break away, the sharp pain at her back numbed her all over.

So it hadn’t been a dream. She was really hurt. This was real. The battle had been real. Where was Harry? Where was Lance? Were they dead? Was she?

All those questions and she could not utter a single sound as she began to cry and could not stop. Why was she here? What had happened after she’d been shot?

“Shhh, you’re safe,” Jo whispered in her ear. “You’re home. You’re safe. You’ve been sleeping for three days now. Lance will be so happy to know you’re awake.”

“I want to see Harry.”

“Y/N–”

“Tell him to come in here!” She pulled back and clutched Jo’s arms. Her maid looked frightened, but not of her. “If he’s hurt so bad he cannot walk, I’ll come to him. Just let me–”

She pushed away from Jo and rose from the bed only for her legs to give in and she fell to the carpeted floor. That was when she realized that her ankle was broken. Jo got on her knees beside Y/N and held her by the shoulders as she called for Lance. It didn’t take long for him to burst into the room and staggered toward them. As he kneeled down, she noticed that his hand was bandaged, and he’d lost a finger. Shivers raced through her.

What had happened to Harry?

When Lance cupped her face, it was the first time he’d given her the look that made her feel like a deer before the hunter shot it down. Lance’s words shot her down just like that. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“No…” she sobbed, shaking her head despite him holding it. “No, no, no, no. It was my fault. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save him…”

“Y/N, stop, you’re bleeding!” she heard Jo said but she continued to swing her arms and the back of her hand collided with Jo’s face, sending the maid down to her back. Jo was crying, too.

“Leave us,” Lance told the maid, his voice cool and calm, but it was just an act because his remaining fingers were shaking against Y/N’s cheek. He was stronger than Jo, so he managed to gather her into his arms despite her resistance. She fought for another moment and eventually surrendered. He held her until her voice was lost and her eyes were dry.

.

.

.

For the next couple of days, Y/N didn’t eat. She stayed in the tower and stared out of the window from dusk till dawn. And at night, she lay awake until exhaustion lulled her to sleep. Jo slept in Y/N’s bed now; she didn’t trust Y/N to be alone, and Lance returned once in a while to check on her.

On the third day, she finally asked Jo about what had happened. Jo had told her that they could have been all dead if Harry hadn’t ordered another group of veterans to go after them. Though they’d shown up a bit too late, they’d been able to rescue Lance and Y/N and all the survivors. Thunder, Lightning and Midnight, though wounded, were also brought back alive.

Y/N had said nothing about it. She hadn’t even asked to see Harry’s body. She’d not said a word about him, and neither Jo nor Lance mentioned him to her because neither knew how to comfort her.

Meanwhile, the whole court was in turmoil without their Queen. People said that she was dead and that Lance was hiding her body in the tower while plotting on taking the throne. Jo had advised her to make an appearance to pacify the court. Y/N had said she’d think about it. But Jo knew it was just a way of saying she didn’t care, and that she’d rather the rumour be true. Lance had tried to calm the people by lying that the Queen had not yet recovered. Jo didn’t know if it was just a part of his plan in taking power into his own hands; she did not trust him at all.

It was the first day of the second week. Y/N’s health had shown some improvement though not significant, and she was eating again. On her way to bring food to the Queen, Jo heard from one of the other maids that the King was interrogating one of the attackers in the dungeon.

The investigation team had been searching around the battlefield for bodies of Isolde soldiers, and they’d caught that man in a pile of dead bodies. He’d been half-dead, half-alive when they’d brought him back to the castle and had recently regained consciousness. Lance had been interrogating him the entire morning, and when Jo broke the news to Y/N, she saw a flash of hope or the first sign of life in Y/N’s eyes. The Queen shot herself out of bed and limped barefoot down the castle corridor. Jo picked up her skirt and chased after Y/N. Y/N was still wearing her nightgown, her hair uncombed and she was not in her right mind to care about her virtue.

When she arrived, Lance was there with two guards and they were all in shock. Jo wasn’t sure if the guards were shocked because their Queen was still alive, or because of how she looked – no better than a walking corpse. But she knew Lance was shocked because Y/N had finally left her chamber.

She walked up to him and looked in the face of the enemy behind bars. The man was half-naked and his upper body was covered with seeping wounds. He’d lost an eye but that didn’t stop him from grinning maniacally as he saw the Queen standing there in her nightgown. Jo could tell that Y/N wanted to smash his teeth in for giving her that look.

“Would you like to question him?” Lance spoke softly as if there were only him and Y/N.

Y/N clenched her fists at her sides. “Has he said anything yet?”

“No. Not a single word.”

“Have you tried beating him?”

Y/N didn’t cast a single look at Lance, so she couldn’t see the horrified look he was giving her. Jo pressed her lips together, gripping her skirt. She didn’t like this side of Y/N at all.

Calmly, Lance said, “Yes.”

“Maybe cut off his fingers and he’ll talk.”

“Your Majesty–” Jo interjected, and Lance shushed her at once.

“You dirty little whore,” the prisoner finally said, his voice full of contempt. The two guards standing on either side of the cell immediately stepped forward, but Y/N put up one hand for them to stay where they were.

Jo wondered what was on her best friend’s mind. At this point, she was too afraid to find out.

The man spat and bared his blood-stained teeth. “You can cut me to pieces,” he hissed, “and I still won’t say a word. You don’t deserve the throne you’re sitting on, little girl. Look at yourself, do you see a queen? I see a whore who thinks she’s the Queen just because she puts on pretty dresses and wears a crown.”

All eyes were fixed on Y/N, waiting for her reaction. It was so quiet that Jo could hear the beating of her own heart. Lance, who managed to look the calmest, was breathing heavily as he watched Y/N’s face with a look of concern.

“Open the cell.”

“Y/N–” Lance started.

“Do it,” Y/N snapped at the guard on her right, and he frantically pulled out his keys and unlocked the prisoner’s cell.

Lance snatched Y/N’s wrist, but she yanked her hand away. Meanwhile, Jo gathered her courage and took a step closer. She saw Y/N glaring down at the prisoner whose hands and feet were chained.

The Queen tightened her fists. Then, she kicked him in the stomach. Jo gasped, a hand flew to her mouth as Y/N’s foot collided with the man’s jaw, sending saliva and blood splashing onto her white dress. Jo was stiff with terror and the next thing she knew was the guards dragging the Queen out of the cell by Lance’s order.

Y/N was punching and kicking and screaming. She said that she’d skin the man alive for what he’d done. Jo didn’t think she cared if this man wasn’t the one who’d killed Harry. She just wanted revenge. She just wanted someone to pay for the death of the man she loved.

The guards were twice bigger than Y/N so they didn’t budge as she fought them. They twisted her arms behind her back and yanked her away from the cell like a ragdoll. Jo threw herself at them and tried to pry Y/N out of their grips.

“Let her go!” She whipped her head to Lance. “Tell them to let the Queen go!”

“Take her to her chamber and tie her to the bed,” Lance said with a dismissive wave. “No one’s to attend her for the rest of the day.”

“No!” Jo screamed as a guard shoved her out of the way and carried a screaming Y/N on his shoulder out of the dungeon. Jo turned back to Lance. She was filled with anger as tears started running down her cheeks. “What do you think you’re doing?! You’re not our King! You’re disrespecting the Queen!”

Lance gave her a stern look, his face contorted slightly before returning to his usual unbothered expression. He didn’t say a word as he sidestepped her and followed the guards.

.

.

.

“Is he awake?”

Where am I?

“Barely.”

“Someone please clean him up. He smells like shit.”

Peach…

“How long will it take?”

“At least six months, Your Grace.”

Where am I? Who are these people? I can’t see.

“Six months? You’re telling me I have to keep him alive for six months?”

“At least.”

Peach, are you alive? Where are you?

“Very well. But if this doesn’t work, I’ll behead you myself.”

“This will work, Your Grace. I assure you. But you must send a physician. I can’t do it if he’s bleeding like this.”

“Guards, send a physician to treat his wounds! And you better do your job.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Peach…

“Stay alive, Harry. We’ll release you but you must stay alive.”

Dead or alive, I’ll come back to you, Peach. I’ll never leave you alone…

“I’m sorry, Harry. I really am…”

.

.

.

“Get out, you piece of shit!” Y/N screamed at Lance the moment he stepped through the threshold. He didn’t say a word, his expression unreadable as he padded to the bed and peered down at her. She was sitting with her back against the headboard and her wrists tied to a bedpost. She was ashamed and furious. She never should have trusted him. For all she knew, he could have planned the attack himself. Or he’d been waiting for her to break and somehow got lucky.

“Get out,” she hissed as he sat on the edge of her bed.

Still not talking, he reached for the rope that bound her wrists.

“Your Majesty,” a guard said, making Lance stop. “The Queen’s not herself. She might be dangerous.”

Lance looked over his shoulder. “I don’t need you to warn me about my wife. Now leave us and shut the door.”

Y/N was startled and confused at the same time. She guessed the guard was, too, but he left without asking more questions, leaving her alone with the King.

Lance heaved a sigh as his eyes finally found hers. “Will you promise not to hurt me if I untie you?”

She looked away, clenching her jaw.

“Y/N,” he warned.

She pursed her lips and took a breath. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I promise not to hurt you.”

He nodded and untied her. As soon as she got free, she wasted no time to throw herself at him, shoving him against the wall with a loud thump. He seized her wrists, but not hard enough and she could still pound her fists at his chest. He didn’t even push her back. She was much lighter than him. Why was he just standing there?

“Fight back! What are you doing?! Fight back! Hurt me.”

She didn’t know why she started crying. But she couldn’t stop. And then she surrendered and slipped down onto the floor. If he wanted to kill her now, he could do it with his eyes closed. And yet, Lance sat down in front of her, crossing his legs, still holding her wrists but his fingers had loosened.

“Are you done?” he asked quietly.

Sobbing, she gave a nod.

“Good. Now listen.”

He placed his fingers underneath her chin and tilted her head up. His grey eyes looked darker here and his brows slightly furrowed. They were sitting so close she could see the cut on his cheek. It looked fresh; he’d probably got it from the battle. She knew it would heal at one point and probably wouldn’t leave any scar, but it was strange to see an imperfection on his face.

“Did you see how easy it was for me to command your guards to tie you up?” he began, looking serious. For a second, she thought he looked and sounded just like her father. “That’s how loyal they are to you, Y/N. They don’t take you seriously because you don’t take yourself seriously.” Lance brought his hand to her cheek. This time, she didn’t flinch. “I know it’s been hard for you,” he said. “But Jo and I are the only two people in this castle who know about your loss. The court thinks you’re weak and afraid and a joke. Would your father be happy if he knew his heir is like this? Would Harry? How about your mother? Would she be happy to see how you chose to act as a queen?”

Y/N didn’t speak, her eyes glued to the floor.

Lance continued, “You can grieve. You can be angry. You can cry. You can even hit me; I’ll let you if it makes you feel better. But outside this room, I want you to be the Queen people expect you to be. I want you to show them that you are not weak. You are not a target. You are not the prey. Show them they can count on you to lead them and keep them safe. Think about the innocent people who died in the attack. We’re the lucky ones who live, Y/N. We have to live for them.”

He waited for her to say something, and when she remained silent, his thumb brushed her cheek. “Can you do that, Y/N? I know that fearless queen is still in you. Can you bring her back to me?”

She looked at his left hand and saw the missing pinky and her heart pained a little. She licked her lip and finally nodded.

“Good girl.”

She averted her eyes, not wanting to look at him as shame washed over her like a tidal wave. She expected him to stand up and leave. But he continued holding her face like that. Like she was the most fragile thing he’d ever touched.

“Look,” he began again. “You and I might be the loneliest people in the world, but at least we’re in this together.”

“I know,” she heard herself say. Lance let out a breathy chuckle.

Then his voice turned grim again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. But I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” She glanced up to his face and saw him smiling wistfully. “I can’t keep you safe if it’s you who endanger yourself.”

She pursed her lips. “How’s your leg?”

Lance lifted his shoulders. “The physician said that I’d have to walk with a limp for the rest of my life, but I can still ride a horse, not sure if I can shoot arrows with four fingers, though…”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should not have led everyone to that village. It was all my fault.”

“No, you did the right thing. It was just bad luck.”

Y/N didn’t think luck had anything to do with this, but she did not argue.

“You asked me if I really thought I could marry for love,” Lance said.

“That was a joke,” Y/N mumbled. “An evil one. I’m sorry for that, too.”

Lance smiled a little. “The answer is yes. I did.” Then he released her face and dropped his hand. “I met her at a market,” he said, staring at his hands on his lap. “Her name was Daliah, and she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. My father killed her. She was seventeen.”

Y/N thinned her lips. Her stomach dropped. She knew Lance had secrets; who didn’t? But that wasn’t anything she’d expected.

“Well, he tried to kill me,” Lance said. “I wasn’t the son he wanted, and when I turned sixteen, I bought myself a ship and became captain and left the life in court to travel the world. My father got angry.

“On my seventeenth birthday, my crew, Daliah and I were drinking in a tavern when a group of men with swords and daggers burst in. We tried to fight back but most of us were drunk. Nearly half of my crew was slaughtered that night. Dalilah and I managed to escape through the back, but they caught up with us and they killed her. I survived. It wasn’t until a year later that I found out my father had sent those men to kill me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said. “Was that why you said you’d protect Harry for me?”

He nodded. “Don’t tell anyone, all right? I’d like people to continue to fear me.”

Seeing the humour on his face again made Y/N feel quite relieved. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she snorted. “And...I’m sorry for doubting you...and for hitting you...”

“I’m sorry for tying you up,” he said. “Well, for ordering the guards to tie you up.”

She smirked and rolled her eyes. “Never do the dirty work yourself?”

Lance gave a shrug. “What’s the point of having servants if you have to do things yourself?”

They laughed at that, then fell back to silence.

“I want to see Harry’s body,” Y/N said after what seemed like a minute, and from Lance’s expression, she could tell he was taken aback. “To say goodbye,” she added. “I promise I won’t go mad again.”

Lance only stared at her. She regarded him tentatively until he said, “There’s no body.”

She blinked. “What?”

“We’ve been looking everywhere and couldn’t find his body.”

For the first time in two weeks, Y/N finally found a spark of hope. She straightened and pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. “He could still be alive,” she blurted.

“Y/N,” Lance warned when she rose to her feet. He grabbed the edge of the table beside them and pulled himself up as he started pacing back and forth.

“I don’t believe Harry’s dead until I see his body,” she said. “His body can’t just disappear.”

“Wild animals can take it during the night…”

Those words froze her to the spot. She caught the look of guilt upon his face and realized he regretted having said that. She wasn’t angry at him, though. He was just talking like a normal person with common sense, and he could be right. Still, she hoped he was wrong, and she wasn’t discouraged. If anything, she was more determined to look for Harry now that she knew they’d never found his body.

“Have you sent news to his family—”

“No,” Lance said. “Not yet. But don’t you dare consider looking for him, Y/N. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and—”

“Just think about it! Something feels wrong, Lance!”

“What do you mean?”

“The attack,” she said, closing the distance between them until she was as close to him as she’d been before. “Those men were carrying swords.”

“Yes, I got my finger cut off so—”

“How could every single one of them carry a sword, Lance? Folks cannot afford those expensive weapons.”

Lance’s eyes went wide as realization dawned on his face. “You’re saying that it was a set up?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N threw her hands in the air. “Maybe.”

“Calanthe?”

“That’d be my first guess, but she’s closed the border, and the North has always hated the South. I know my people don’t want me as their Queen, but they would rather have me than Calanthe.”

Lance’s face twisted as it seemed like he was sinking into deep thoughts.

“I’m telling you,” Y/N said, “something is wrong. So maybe Harry’s alive and someone’s holding him captive for a reason. But it might not be Calanthe. For all I know, a lot of people want me dead.”

“But why Harry?” Lance asked.

Y/N didn’t know, either. On second thought, none of those theories made sense to her. Perhaps she was making things up just so she could believe that Harry wasn’t really gone.

“Dead or alive, he must be here with me,” she told Lance. “So until his body’s found, I cannot accept that he’s dead. Just give me a few months. Don’t send news to his family yet. If we still can’t find him after a few months then we’ll tell them and...and I’ll let him go. But I don’t want to give up without a fight, Lance.”

Y/N didn’t fully believe in her own words. She knew she would never truly move on if she kept clinging onto the hope of finding him. And she could see the same doubt in Lance’s dark grey eyes as he considered her like she was mad and speaking nonsense.

“All right,” he said, to her surprise. “But will you promise that you’ll get back to running the court?”

She nodded fast. “Of course.”

Lance nodded once. “Then I’ll have people look for him. Now get some rest. I’ll call for Jo.”

“Actually,” she stopped him before he walked out of the door. Y/N felt pain in her chest as she saw him standing in the glow from the corridor and remembered her last night with Harry. She shook it off and worked up a smile. “Let Jo rest tonight. She’s been here every night. I’ve troubled her enough.”

Lance seemed hesitant. “Would you...want me to stay?” She stared at him. And he seemed amused. “Don’t be so horrified, baby dove. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You? On the floor? Oh, please I’d love to see that.”

“Maybe not on the floor.” Lance looked around the room. “That chair by the fire looks comfortable enough. But if you feel bad about it, we can share the bed.”

Y/N crossed her arms and sneered at him. “You can stay up all night if that’s what you want, but we’re not sleeping in the same bed.”

Lance shook his head as his mouth curled to its favoured side. “Fine. Your loss.”

.

.

.

“What’s your name?”

“Harry Styles.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“Who are your family? Do you remember them?”

“Um...My father’s dead. So, my ma, my sister...oh, and there’s also Kenny…”

“Who’s Kenny?”

“We grew up together.”

“Do you know who Y/N Y/L/N is?”

“Sorry?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Does that name sound familiar to you?”

“It’s familiar, but–”

“Do you know who that is?”

“Can you repeat the name?”

“Y/N...Y/L/N...Well? Do you?”

“No. No, I don’t.”

(end of chapter 2)

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles

[dracoignisworld]

"How are you feeling?" for the prompts. 👀

All I need

“How are you feeling?”

Daenerys flipped onto her stomach and peered over the edge of her bed. In the dark room, she could barely see the outline of Jon. He was sprawled out on a mattress on the floor, his dusty grey eyes staring up at her from beneath a wild mane of curly, black locks. He had pulled the blanket all the way up to under his nose. He must be cold, she mused. Despite her duvet and throws and pillows, she too was shivering. A double-bed was never made for one. “What?”

“How are you feeling about going abroad?” Jon asked.

Daenerys bit her lower lip. “Mhmm, I don’t know.”

“Must be exciting,” he pressed.

“I guess.” Daenerys rested her chin in her hands as she glanced around her bedroom. She should be excited, she supposed. Paris. How many teens get a chance to study in the fashion capital of the world? Her mum shrieked with joy when she received the scholarship.

“Dany, you’re going to be famous!” she’d said and hugged Daenerys so tightly she felt her ribs compress. “You’re going to be a star!”

For a moment, Daenerys had shared her joy. She imagined herself designing for brand names like Chanel, Givenchy, Dior. She could almost believe that a girl of eighteen from a small Devonshire village could make it big if only she put in the same effort and determination that had won her a place at IFA Paris.

But, she thought, dragging her eyes away from the framed acceptance letter to Jon, going to France means leaving England, and leaving England means leaving-

“You’ll have to eat snails,” Jon said.

Daenerys grimaced. “I will not!”

“You will. In France they eat snails every day.”

“Who told you that rubbish?”

“Viserys.”

“And you believed him?”

Jon stuck out his tongue at her. When he sat up, the curtain behind him fluttered. In the pale light from the lamppost outside, she could see his naked torso. At nineteen, Jon had developed a toned figure from his part-time job as a lifeguard. Every ripple in his abs drew her gaze in.

Daenerys averted her eyes with a blush she hoped the darkness would hide. “It’s going to be weird,” she finally said, sensing a need to fill the silence with something. “I won’t know anyone, and I’ll have to speak French all the time, and Mum and Dad won’t be around to help me.”

“No more eating fish and chips on the pier,” Jon pointed out, “or running after seagulls when they steal your pasty.”

“Oh gosh, yeah,” Daenerys said sarcastically and rolled her eyes, “how I’ll miss the seagulls.”

“No more shopping at Primark - I don’t think your fashion school will allow that!”

“Mhmm, I am going to miss Primark,” Daenerys admitted.

“No more meal deals for three quid.”

“Okay, now you’re digging deep,” Daenerys laughed.

“No more me.”

The laughter got stuck in her throat. The smile on Daenerys’ face had stiffened, and she sent Jon a bewildered look. “What?” she asked. Her voice was quiet. She had heard him. She somewhat wished she hadn’t. “What was that?”

Jon stared back at her. His grey eyes were no longer teasing - they were hard, and full of guilt. When he looked down, Daenerys had to stop herself from reaching out to touch him. His broad frame suddenly seemed small. He pulled the blanket back up around himself. “Sorry,” he said. His voice was low. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why did you?”

“I guess I’m sad.” Jon shuffled on the mattress. The floor beneath him creaked. As he wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees, Daenerys sat up, getting a better view of his face as he continued: “Don’t get me wrong - I’m happy for you, Dany, of course I am. But my best friend is leaving. That shit hurts.”

“Right,” Daenerys said. She bit her lower lip. Normally, she would hug him, and kiss his cheek, and promise him that no matter what they would always be friends. But those were the kind of promises she made when they were ten years old and stuck in detention together after fighting Theon. Now, she couldn’t say forever, because forever didn’t include a 3-year undergraduate in Paris. And she couldn’t say friends, because-

Because that’s not what you are to me, Daenerys thought sullenly. She bit the tip of her nail and sighed. The silence between them was making her skin crawl. Still she couldn’t come up with any comforting words to speak.

Jon pushed a lock of his curly hair behind his ear as he peered back at her. “So,” he said, his voice a bit more pitched, and he cleared his throat as he continued: “So, how are you feeling?”

“Hmm?” Daenerys bit a second nail.

“Somehow, ‘I guess’ wasn’t a very convincing reply,” Jon said with a small smile. “There’s something else on your mind, isn’t there?”

“Mhm,” Daenerys replied, biting a third nail before Jon reached out and closed his hand around hers. His was cold. Hers was warm. As his roughened fingertips stroked across her soft palm, she looked back into his eyes and found his grey shimmering with an emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint. It made her draw in a sharp breath. “Jon-”

“You have to write to me,” he said.

“Of course,” Daenerys replied stunned. “Of course I’ll write.”

“Not text messages,” Jon clarified. His thumb brushed across her wrist. It made Daenerys’ pulse quicken. “I want old fashioned letters. Something I can wave around at the shipyard.”

Daenerys couldn’t help but chuckle. “At your apprenticeship?” she asked and, when he nodded, she smiled: “Will the guys really care?”

“If you douse it in expensive perfume they will.”

“I’ll look into it,” Daenerys said, but she already made a mental note of picking up a bottle of Jo Malone at duty free.

Jon moved closer. He reached up to take a hold of her other hand, and he turned her palms between his as he carefully traced every line, every knuckle, every bend in her fingers. The simple gesture made Daenerys’ spine tickle, and she watched him carefully, as if she wanted to engrave the moment into her memory.

“There are so many things I want to say,” Daenerys admitted.

“Me too,” Jon said, still watching her hands, “but I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

Daenerys took in a deep breath. She glanced back up at her acceptance letter. She took in a deep breath. “You know, Jon,” she said, “one word from you, and I would stay.”

Jon lifted her hands to his lips. His warm breath slipped across her hands as he replied: “I know.”

Daenerys took in another deep breath. Something was stirring inside of her - something she’d suppressed for so long that she could barely remember how to summon it. It was like trying to look out of a window with the curtains drawn. “So why,” she started, and she had to pause as her eyes cheeks grew wet. Weird, she thought, blinking a drop out of her eyes, I don’t remember when I started crying. “So why,” she continued, “don’t you.” She looked down at him.

Jon looked up at her. He let go of her hands, reached up, and brushed her cheeks dry. “Because I care for you,” he replied. The smile on his lips was small, but sincere. “There’s nothing for you here.”

“You’re here. You’ve always been here,” Daenerys sobbed. Every touch from Jon only seemed to make her tears flow more freely. She could see them in the darkness now - glistening on Jon’s hand as he continued to brush her cheeks, desperately trying to dry her face. “That’s all I need.”

“You need to allow yourself to grow.”

“Jon-” Her lips were warm. For a second, she didn’t know why. But when her eyes blinked the wetness away and she saw clearly, she found herself face to face with Jon. His soft lips were pressing to hers, and then they started moving - he was kissing her, nudging her with his nose, sliding his hands through her hair, urging himself closer.

Daenerys’ arms fell around his neck as she welcomed the kiss, tasting the salt on his lips, the smoke on his tongue, the sweetness of his embrace. By the time he pulled away, she felt breathless. She imagined it had only been a second. Her body craved more.

“When you’re famous,” Jon said, peering into her eyes as he stroked her hair, and his lips trembled slightly, “don’t forget me, okay?”

There were many things Daenerys wanted to reply. She wanted to tell him to not be silly, to ask her to stay, to be with her, to kiss her and hold her and create a life with her. But when she spoke, she only said: “Okay,” and Jon pressed his forehead to hers as he replied:

“Okay.”

The room was cold. The curtain fluttered. Daenerys tugged at Jon’s shoulders. “Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked.

“I’m sleeping over,” he reminded her, “it’d be rude to kick me out at 2am.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes, but she let go of a small laugh. “No, I mean - in my bed.”

“Of course.”

They settled under her duvet, facing each other, their hands shyly intertwined in the middle. Daenerys wasn’t sure for how long she remained awake, just looking at Jon, thinking about their past and present and future. She only knew that by the time she dozed off, his grey eyes were still peering back at her, the smile on his lips soft.

3 years later

As the doors to the arrival hall swung open, Daenerys abandoned her suitcases on the trolley and flung herself in over the railing as she drew Jon into a hug. He smelled of the sea and the cologne she had sent him two months earlier. Whiskey and cedarwood, she thought, dipping her nose to his neck as she lingered on the scent, I could drown in this and be happy.

Jon laughed and brushed his hands through her silver hair, unrolling the curls she’d carefully kept pristine all the way on the flight to London. She wanted to scold him. She couldn’t even make herself mention it. “Is it Madmoisel Targaryen now?” he asked.

Daenerys stuck her tongue out at him and clapped his cheek. “It’s pronounced Mademoiselle, Jon.”

“I’d never make it in France.”

“Mhm, as long as you don’t speak, you’ll be good,” she teased, pinching his cheek before scurrying off to collect her trolley. A security guard had already started circling it. When he opened his mouth to shout at her, she rattled off a list of random French words until he waved her away with a disgusted look on his face. By the time she joined Jon’s side again, she was giggling. “I see the English still hate the French,” she said.

By the time she reached the end of the barriers, Jon reached over and grabbed the trolley out of her hands, pushing it along toward the carpark. “Don’t the French hate the English too?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I tell everyone I’m Swedish.”

“You’re such a little shit,” Jon laughed, but the amusement in his eyes was obvious. “So - where do you want to go first? It’s a four hour drive to Plymouth. We might as well do some sightseeing on the way. Maybe stop to view the natural wildlife - the seagulls have grown fat since you left.”

“Have you been feeding them?” Daenerys asked, her voice unimpressed.

“Maybe.”

“How about a Primark?” Daenerys mused, reaching over to help Jon as he started loading her suitcases into the trunk of his old Volvo. “I’m tired of window shopping at places I can’t afford.”

“Right on.” Jon slammed the trunk shut and smiled at her, “Primark it is.”

“And maybe some fish and chips - if we can find a nice pier.”

“It’s raining, but I’ll make an effort.”

“And maybe-” Daenerys paused, looking into his grey eyes.

Jon leaned against the car, raising his brows. “Maybe?” he asked, teasingly.

Daenerys smiled. Her hands closed around his tee, and she shyly stepped closer to him. “Maybe,” she said, her voice as innocent as she could muster, “we could pick up from where we left off last time we met.”

“Is that so?” Jon said, his skin turning pink, and he stepped closer to Daenerys too, his body pressing to hers. “And would you care to remind me where that was, Madmoisel?”

“Stop trying to speak French,” Daenerys begged with a chuckle, pecking Jon’s cheek before fluttering off to the car, pulling open the passenger side door as she smirked at him, “and maybe I’ll show you.”

Jon sent her a flustered look, but he saluted and smacked his heels together. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, before grabbing the trolley and hurrying off to deposit it at the exit.

As Daenerys watched him go, she rested her chin in her hand, sighed and thought: All I need. And this time, I won’t have to wait three years to get it.

--

Thank you so much for the prompt @thescarletgarden1990! I hope you liked this!

#jonerys #jonerys fanfic #jonerys fanfiction #quick writing

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Hello fellow Lumberjanes fans!! After reading Issue 75 I have Many Thoughts (Head Full) so I wrote this little fic (below the cut for your convenience), please enjoy <3

They tell the younger kids it's a slumber party. Something to celebrate the end of summer, and the promise of coming back next year.

The younger kids know they're lying.

"The yeti's are here," a little girl says matter-of-factly to Jo. "And all the big bugs, and the mermaids and the selkies. And the selkies never come."

Jo looks at her sash, covered in badges like she was waiting to show her parents. She's only at Seedpod level, not even a Sapling yet. She's got a few badges - Pungeon Master, May The Forge Be With You, Daylight Savor - and she sewed them on herself, by the looks of it. Maybe her counselor helped her out with the first one. Jo wants to ask her where her counselor is, wants to find someone else to take this poor kid off her hands, but then Jo remembers that Marley said. We did a head count and we have all the scouts, but...

She realizes that Jen was one of the lucky ones.

"Everything's gonna be okay," Jo tells the girl, managing to spit the lie out even though it's catching between her teeth. "It's just a slumber party. Then you get to go home in the morning, and it'll be fun."

The kid opens her mouth to say something else, but Jo's gone before she has the chance.

April's sitting in a hammock, one of the ones the Roswell's tied up high near the ceiling. Upon second glance, Jo realizes that Ripley's up there, too, though not for long - as soon as she spots Jo, she's speeding down the beam in a hurry, and before she knows it Jo sees an orange t-shirt and a streak of blue at her side.

"Are we sleeping up there?" Asks Jo.

"Nah, Dighton called dibs," April says. "But they're letting us hang out up here while they check on the moose stables. Looking for stragglers, folks who mighta been left behind."

"Me and April were looking through her scrapbook!" Ripley says, buzzing with excitement. You wouldn't think that a horrible catastrophic event was currently threatening to literally consume all of their lives. Except that Ripley's always like this, or at least, seems to be: bright and glittery and jumping up-and-down, with a grin so wide and toothy you could see how (The Other) Jonesy was willing to accept her as one of her own.

There's a noise from above, and Jo sees that April's started to shimmy down to the ground, now. She's got a satchel over her shoulder - Jo's satchel, she realizes - and her scrapbook's under her arm. April lands with a small Thud! on the ground in front of them, strikes a Spider-Man pose, and then stands, reaching out her elbow to Jo.

Elbow bump.

Bring it up.

Lock thumbs.

Wiggly fingers.

Peace sign.

The handshake is surprisingly calming, though maybe it shouldn't be. It reminds Jo that she's still here. She's still with April. The world is ending, not yet, not if they've got any say in it. Ripley lets out a small, longing sigh.

"I wish I had a secret handshake buddy."

The sun's setting outside the windows, and the girls stand there and watch it go down. All of them. Every cabin - Cosmos, Zodiac, Dighton, Luna, Woolpit, Eclipse, Roswell, Dyatlov, Aurora, Walcott, Dartmoor, Xena, Voynich, Roanoke. They stand, some clustered close together, others turned away. On each other's shoulders, in arms, in hugs and embraces and one impressive cheerleading lift from the Xena cabin, who've been working on it all summer and haven't had the time to show it off before. They watch the sun go down over the forest, and then it's gone.

For the first time in the world, the forest is silent.

Mal pulls out her guitar.

"Me and Emily and Wren have been working on something," she says. "I was helping them get some campfire song badges the other day."

Someone lights a small fire in the mess hall fireplace. Mal takes a seat right beside it, the warm glow making her seem braver than she is. Emily and Wren sit beside her, because they've already been dragged into this, whether they like it or not, and honestly, their song isn't half bad (at least, that was the verdict with Mackenzie when they sang it for her - they were technically supposed to run it past three people to get the badge, but Vanessa didn't need to know that).  

"When the world is ending we can sing and we can play, dancing in the forest as we laugh our lives away. Watch the stars go out my Lumberjane, and catch them one by one. Never know the place you go that changed your fear to fun."

Bubbles bounces off of Molly's head and scurries over to Ripley. They bow at each other and then begin to dance. It's not long before others join in. Mackenzie and Feryal start square-dancing. April and Jo never quite got their Go Ball-istic badges, but they manage. When someone trips, someone else catches them, and everyone laughs. Mal, Wren, and Emily's song has a tempo that's surprisingly upbeat. No one listens to the words.

When it's over, Mal sings them some cool indie song no one's ever heard of, and then a Disney request from a girl in Aurora (it's mostly improv'd, and some other girls jump in to help Mal find the chords, but overall she doesn't do a half-bad job), and then Lumberjanes Way, and then they tire themselves out and Seafarin' Karen (left in charge of the kids, left to guard them and make sure nothing bad happens to them) tells them they "ought to be gettin' some shuteye, dontcha think" and then before they know it they're off to bed.

They tuck themselves into sleeping bags, hammocks, makeshift beds, literal beds (some of the girls in Voynich and Eclipse just got their Wood You Or Wouldn't You woodworking badges, and are feeling handy right now) and someone sings a lullaby, though no one could tell you who. The counselors are noticeably absent; Vanessa's watching the perimeter by the volleyball courts, and Jen's on the porch of Rosie's cabin, and the others are all scattered somewhere in-between. The Roanokes are right in the middle of it all (because aren't they always?) fast asleep in the center of the mess hall.

Five girls sleeping, all in a row. Molly, Mal, Ripley, April, Jo.

Mal dreams about falling through the ocean. Ripley dreams of dinosaurs and cats, all named Jonesy, and siblings she's been missing for a while. April's punching something in her dream - she thinks it's a fox, but she's not sure. Jo's competing in a robotics contest against someone she doesn't quite recognize.

Molly dreams about a silver deer, racing through the forest, beckoning her softly to follow. The deer has antlers, a large, proud rack, but Molly knows its a girl. She has a bow around her neck, and a quiver of arrows. She's... she's going off to go fight something.

Molly wakes up.

(AO3)

#likes appreciated reblogs greatly encouraged comments make me very happy please spread and share this!! #my post #my fanfiction #fanfiction #lumberjanes fanfiction #lumberjanes fanfic #the roanokes #jo #ripley #april #mal #molly #ficlet #lumberjanes ficlet #lumberjanes #lumberjanes spoilers