#edit: i found some more i hadnt put up here so

[bluestation]

november's assorted sketches & wips

#one piece #film red #film red spoilers #uta #franky #iceburg #usopp #only planning on finishing two of these tbh .... but anyhoo #today was the premiere of film red where i live (11/27. yes fr) #excellent experience ..... was tossed around by sound waves .... i adore uta ..... sweet closeted child . my poor bby . #morale of the story being do not ask celebrities to be ur savior or save the world #edit: i found some more i hadnt put up here so #might as well <- not the best motto #sketch log

[ouatsnark]

Sorry for blowing up your inbox but I like your blog and hearing other opinions so...

I've seen multiple people claim that Snowing and Captain Swan are selfish.

For being happy that Killian was alive when Robin was dead, for their parenting, etc.

I've even seen them claim Emma doesn't care about anyone but herself and claim that she doesn't care about Henry.

People always go on about how she 'abandoned' Henry and that Neal, Gold, and Regina care so much more about him.

(even though I've seen some sf and sq edits where Henry is treated terribly by the same people and Gold literally would have murdered Henry if he hadnt found out NEAL WAS DEAD).

People also claim Snowing abandoned Emma and that it was their fault Emma was orphaned and not Regina's.

(Even though let's be real. If they didn't put her through that wardrobe Regina would have absolutely murdered baby Emma or Emma wouldn't have grown up at all).

I'm just frustrated so this probably doesn't make sense. Sorry.

Why thank you! And as you know, I am more than happy to blast my opinions out here!

A few things that completely destroys their talking points:

Snowing gave up a future with Emma so that everyone would be free

Emma gave up her future when she sacrificed herself to the darkness for the sake of the town

Emma gave up her future when she sacrificed for Gideon.

Emma gave up the chance to be with her parents and Killian to take Henry to NY in S3

Killian gave up his life to stop the darkness

Killian let himself be tortured to protect them all

Killian risked his life for Henry in s6

Killian risked his life for everyone in S3

Snow let herself fall into a curse so Emma could save her true love

Emma killed Cruella to protect Henry

I’m sure I missed some but these focus on Emma's love for Henry, Snowing's sacrifices for Emma and Emma and Killian's sacrifices for Henry and the greater good. Side note: Yes, I think the show misused Snow's relationship with Emma in favor of her ridiculous and unbelievable relationship with Regina but I still see Snow as a mother who would do anything for her daughter.

That being said let’s dive into the claims!

Claim 1: being happy that Killian was alive when Robin was dead

My counter question to the Regina Apologists is this: so what would you have had them do? Literally? It’s not like they threw a party. What should Emma have done? Tell Killian he needs to go back to the Underworld because Robin is dead and if Regina isn’t happy, well, Emma can’t be happy either and Killian doesn’t deserve to live? Their answer to that is “yes” by the way which I then point out how incredibly stupid that is and biased. Regina deserves squat and while Robin didn’t deserve to die that has NOTHING to do with Emma and Killian.

Killian was also dead and they presumed they would never see him again. Life is a roller coaster and people experience many emotions in one given day. Just because something good happens in the aftermath of a tragedy doesn’t mean you do not feel happiness over that good thing while your heart is also breaking.

This look here is a prime example.

Emma is overjoyed she has her pirate back. But once she’s welcomed him back, she looks over at Robin’s coffin and THEY have a moment of silence and sadness. In fact, it takes them a while to make it back to Granny's out of respect!

Parenting? I’m not sure what the “parenting” refers to under there. Happy parenting vs what exactly? The only possible thing I can think of is Snowing having another baby which isn’t selfish at all. They were robbed the first time and does this mean that having a second child is always selfish? I don't know people are weird when they reach for things to hate on.

Claim 2: Emma doesn’t care about Henry & she abandoned him

Henry has been living with Emma since S2. Under her care, his life flourished in S3 where he had friends and their bond only grew whereas he was never this close to Regina. I mean it was Emma that knew something was different with him when Pan switched bodies with him. It was Emma, not Regina or Gold, that knew how serious things were getting with Violet. It was Regina that kicked him out when she had a broken heart but when Emma lost Killian she never kicked Henry out.

Killian also was very close to Henry as well because it was Killian that finished teaching him how to sword fight, navigate and captain a boat. Killian also asked Henry to be his best man.

In fairness, Neal didn’t get a chance to be a father but then knowing Neal as soon as things got too tough he’d be gone. And Gold cared about Henry when it was convenient for him because as you point out he nearly killed Henry on a few occasions. Don’t forget about S5 and S7.

And Emma never abandoned Henry. To say that she did infers that she left him somewhere and walked away for selfish reasons and belittles the sacrifice birth parents sometimes have to make for the sake of their child. Giving a child up for adoption to ensure that child has a better life than you can provide them is not abandonment. Emma saw to it that his needs would be met when she surrendered her rights to Henry. It was an act of love and a chance at a better life since she couldn’t provide for him. Those who say this refuse to look at the facts: she was a teenager in jail without family support, income or a place to live. He’d have been bounced around from one place to another while she sat in jail then waited for the courts to decide she was a fit mother (which could’ve been years considering her record and lack of job or living). Note: this is not to say adopted children don’t feel abandoned by their parents, Emma sure did, but I’m just saying the word isn’t a fair one to use in some circumstances and implies selfishness when there wasn’t any.

Now if they mean Emma abandoned adult Henry in S7 then they can kindle STFU about that too because Henry was an adult that decided to leave home. Just because Regina followed him around like a co-dependent parent following their child to college doesn’t mean Emma loves him less. Actually, it means she loves him more because she gave him room to find his own story whereas Regina attached herself to him because she needed him. Regina has always needed him. He’s never needed her.

Claim 3: Snowing abandoned Emma and it was all their fault

Yes, correct, Regina’s henchmen were sent to kill baby Emma. If baby Emma had managed to survive then she’d have been cursed as an infant and she’d never have grown up, she would not be with Snowing despite Emma's claims in S2 and they’d all still be cursed to this day. It’s shocking how many Regina Apologists do not know this.

And when you point out they immediately bring up the door in S6 to which I say “same deal”. Now, the show retconned the terms from S1 during S2 because suddenly in S2 Emma needed to be alone in order to find them and break the curse (August implies this in his convo with Neal and then Snowings convo with Gold in S6 retcon flashback). And Snowing had to make that sacrifice for the greater good. There was no other moral choice to make, as choosing themselves would be the selfish choice, and sadly Snowing and Emma paid the biggest price just so everyone could be free.

My answer to this is pretty simple. If Regina hadn’t casted the curse then Snowing would’ve raised Emma therefore it is still Regina’s fault. Snowing had no choice but to let Emma go so that she could find them and break the curse.

I actually go into that more here:

Do you know who, out of the main cast, is the most selfish character on Once Upon a Time?

Y’all know what my answer is. Actually, Rumple is probably the most selfish but Regina comes in second and I consider her to be worse since the show promotes her as a redeemed villain now hero.

#fandom asks #emma swan hate debunked #snowing hate debunked #captain swan hate blogs are filled with stupidity #emma swan is henry's real mother #killian jones hate debunked

[babysungs]

[eleven] in every cosmos | han jisung smau

11 - grafias

words : 1.7k

prev | au masterlist | next

a/n : omg a double upload from user babysungs :o my brain was going crazy about writing this part and i coukdnt help myself!! bit of a longer written chapter but i think its worth it :) i didnt edit it too much so i hope there arent many mistakes!! enjoy :)

Opening the door to the restaurant you were expecting many more people than there were, only seeing two people, but you supposed that it was for the better. Big crowds werent really your thing anyway.

hey binnie!! im here waiting for you :)

No response.

I guess its to be expected, you were here about thirty minutes earlier than you were supposed to be. He was probably just leaving his apartment. Still, you couldnt help but be weary at the fact that he hadnt bothered to read your message.

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes had gone by without a single message from changbin. Surely he should be here soon, unless he wasnt planning on coming at all. You were confused and a tiny bit hurt, failing miserably at not jumping to conclusions way too early. Were you being stood up? Could you even be stood up if this wasnt a date? Had he found out about your affection towards him and now wants to make a joke out of you? What exactly was going o-

Ding.

The door had opened. You looked up in anticipation, praying desperately to see Changbin walk through the clear glass door that you had been watching like a hawk for the longest thirty minutes of your life.

… Jisung? you thought to yourself

Great, first you get stood up then the one person who manages to make you feel like shit at every encounter shows up. Just fucking great.

“What are you doing here?” Jisung questions, putting an emphasis on the “you” as if you werent allowed to eat in public. “Waiting for your little boyfriend I assume.”

“What? What boyfriend?” You had never been more confused in your life. Since when did you have a boyfriend?

“Yeah. Your boyfriend. Changbin?”

You couldn’t help but become a bit flushed at the thought of Changbin bein considered your boyfriend, though it like would never happen.

“Jisung what the fuck are you talking about right now? Changbin is not my boyfriend” you shoot back starting to get annoyed.

“Oh dont act like you two arent together. I should have known since the first day I saw you guys on a date at that stupid cafe.” Jisung was also starting to get annoyed. How could you and Changbin keep denying your relationship when he had seen it for himself?

“Dude we had JUST met that day. We didnt even know each other”

“Yeah I call bullshit but sure.”

“Okay you know fucking what Jisung-“ you started, completely ready to rip the taller brunette to shreds at this point though you were interrupted.

“Alright calm down lets not overreact please.” That voice was all too familiar.

“Changbin??? What the fuck are you doing here I thought you were standing me up!” you were completely enraged at this point. Not only had Jisung riled you up but now Changbin was standing here acting as if he hadnt kept you waiting for what felt like hours?

“Y/n, I didnt stand you up I promise,” Changbin starts, “please just let me and seungmin explain before you chop my head off.”

“Seungmin what the fuck dude??” Jisung was equally as stunned and not-so-equally as enraged as you were.

“Ji just shut up and listen to Changbin please.”

Everyone got quiet allowing Changbin the floor to explain what kind of weird misunderstanding they were in now.

“You and Y/n have some weird beef with each other that you need to talk about. I think you both have some misconceptions about each other and you need to work them out now because constantly being in the middle of this is so tiring. I hate fighting with either of you to defend the other when both of you are my closest friends.”

Friends. Right. The word stings in your chest as you had almost forgotten what you were to Changbin. His friend, nothing more nothing less.

“Oh whatever you cant force me to talk to them.” Jisung spits, pulling you out of your own head.

“Trust me I dont want to be here more than you do.”

“See. That right there. It needs to stop” Changbin continues visibly aggravated, “youre both staying here until you can work out whatever weird fucking tension there is between you.”

Changbin and Seungmin walk towards the door leaving you and a very confused and peeved Jisung standing closer than you realize at first.

“We’re locking you in. Please try talk it out and try to get along” Changbin says as hes locking the door.

“Where did you even get the key???”

“I rented the place out for a day. Good luck!” He throws two thumbs up and walks away with Seungmin.

Great.

“Dickheads” Jisung mutters under his breath, “why do I have to be stuck here with you.”

Now you were seriously getting upset. It wasnt even anger, just pure sadness at the fact that one of your biggest idols, the man you looked up to and loved most out of any musician to walk the earth, hated you so much he regarded you amongst the trash of the earth. He held such disdain for you and you had no idea why.

“Jisung. Why do you hate me so much? What have I done?” you ask desperately trying not to let the tears slip

“Are you serious?” he scoffs, until he looks at you and sees the deadly serious expression on your exhausted face. “.. Fine. I hate you because not only did you completely ignore my existence when Changbin first brought you to the studio, you also stole him from us. He stopped hanging out with us to hang out with you all the time until I called him out for it. I get youre his partner but fucks sake he needs to make time for his best friends and music partners too.”

Jisung watched as your face went from serious to utterly confused when he started explaining. It mad him even more mad at you, how could you be such a terror in his life and act like you dont know anything about it?

“I think Changbin was right when he said there were big misunderstandings between us.” Jisung scoffed loudly at your start, not believing you for a second. “Jisung let me finish before you blow everything im about to say off. Please.”

You saw Jisungs expression change as he settled himself into the booth you were both sitting at. “Alright fine. Go ahead.”

“Thank you. For starters, I didnt ignore you. I said hi to you and tried to talk to you several times but you either just didnt answer or couldnt hear me. But I tried really hard to make conversation and get to know you, I would never in a million years pass up the chance to befriend my favorite musician in the world”

Jisung did not expect those words to come out of your mouth in a million years. He could feel his heartbeat pick up a bit, choosing to ignore it as if it werent happening. “And Im not dating Changbin. At all. We’re honestly just good friends and even if i were dating him, strong if, I would never take up all of his time especially when I know how important your friendship is and how busy you guys get. That is not the type of person I am at all and maybe you could never come to like me or be friends with me but please dont think of me so harshly. I really didnt mean to make you feel that way about me. Im sorry.”

He was dumbfounded. Truly blown away at the fact that he was so quick to judge you and hate you for something that was completely his fault, and that you were the one who felt bad and even apologized. Jisung realized what an asshole he had been to someone who did not deserve it in the slightest.

“Y/n I-“ you quickly cut him off, not prepared to be berated by him again.

“Please dont say anything I understand you dont like me but I cant take-“

“Let me finish.” Jisung had gently rested his hand on your forearm, which had been laying on the table. His hands were so soft and he was holding your arm so tenderly- wait. Why is your heart racing so fast? He noticed your flushed face and eyes that kept glancing at his hand on you and he couldnt help but smile to himself a bit.

You nodded your head, signaling to Jisung that he could continue.

“I was going to say Im sorry. I had no idea that I was the problem this whole time and treated you so badly for nothing. Truthfully I felt bad about being mean to you because I thought you actually could be nice but I was stubborn and felt like you deserved my hate. I am so sorry.”

“Oh … its okay. Thank you for apologizing.” Your voice had gone quiet, not expecting Jisung to be so warm and kind to you. You tried relentlessly to ignore the roaring butterflies in your stomach.

“Of course. So ..” the man started, smiling to himself a bit, “your favorite musician in the whole world huh?”

Shit. You didnt even realize you said that. You could feel his confidence dripping from that stupid smirk on his face.

“Pffft whaaaat who said that that wasnt me I dont even know you who are you again?”

“Yeah okay whatever at least I have something to brag to Changbin about when we leave here.” he laughs, “Friends?“

Jisung mentally curses himself for sticking his hand out when he feels the warmth from yours meet him in the middle, the motion only making his heart beat faster. He prayed desperately hoping you couldnt hear it thumping out of his chest.

“Friends.”

You both shake on it with smiles, both trying to ignore that fluttering feeling in your chests growing bigger the longer you held hands.

Though neither of you would never admit this, you both were overthinking the rest of your time together waiting for Changbin and Seungmin to get back with the keys. You kept on with your conversation, talking about any and everything to keep yourselves from dying of boredom and hunger, but neither of you knew that the other was having the same thoughts deep in the back of their minds.

Why does my heart keep racing when im next to you?

taglist | @gyuville @kikivonpoopyhead @sohyeappy @enaluvs @mits-vi @spikertrash @dynarvot

bold means i cant tag!! sorry :(

#in every cosmos #skz han #han jisung #han jisung social media au #han x reader #han x y/n #jisung smau #crack au #crack smau #jisung au #jisung angst #jisung angst to fluff #jisung fluff

[demadogs]

I know, i know 😭 (30% anon here). It's not that i think the idea is absurd at all, like you listed so many good things!! I'm just trying to actively lower my own expectations because i'm the type who gets really invested and then consequently really disappointed (though i guess since this is tumblr most of us are that type lmao). I'm just used to shows not following through with subtext, and i'm not only talking about gay subtext, but all different kinds of plots. I hear you though, trust me!

Since i'm already in your inbox, i have a question: have you been around for a while? What's the history of the byler ship? Was it always popular? Did people always think there might be a serious chance or was it more of a crackship? Were there any popular theories that came true or that were completely false? Since i'm super new to the show myself i'm curious!

yeah i totally get it. my brain is just not wired to be able to have lower expectations for something that his this much evidence for. im either 100% confident in something in a show or i have absolutely no idea whats gonna happen lmao.

i only started being active in this fandom a few months ago but ive shipped byler and followed lots of byler blogs for years. people started shipping byler after s2 came out. i didnt see anything about it during s1 because they literally had two scenes together and there was almost nothing really to work with. but when i watched s2 when it first came out i distinctly remember thinking “….is anybody else seeing this?? am i crazy orrr?” and then i went on here and found a small fandom of people who shipped them too so i was like “ok cool nice”. at this point it was mostly gifsets of their scenes together and maybe some edits and we hadnt established whether we were gonna spell it byeler or byler yet lmao. then i found @kaypeace21 and she was the first person i saw ever actually analyze it and really start to believe that everything might be intentional.

before i followed her, i never even considered that they might actually go through with byler. i think that was the case for most people during s2. i shipped it in the same way i currently ship ronance and steveddie. i thought they were cute and had good chemistry but i never believed it would go anywhere because of mlvn and also just the doubt that an insanely popular 80s scifi show would put their main characters in a gay relationship. i still loved reading kaypeace’s analyses but i wasnt convinced yet. then s3 came out and that changed everything for me and a lot of other people.

i watched s3 the day it came out hoping for some crumbs of byler but again, not at all expecting anything evident of them actually going through with it. it was kinda just in the back of my mind bc i love this show mostly for the supernatural plot. but during their fight scene when mike said “its not my fault you dont like girls” i was shocked. that convinced me that at least will would have a crush on mike but i still wasnt sure about mike until that painfully awkward kiss on the last episode. it wasnt until a few months later i rewatched that season and went back to kaypeace and found SO many things that i missed!! mike not letting el touch him when they kissed, the drastic tone and aesthetic difference between the break up and the byler fight, the frame of mike perfectly in a closet when they kissed!! i was completely sold then and so were a lot of people. i also think it was around this time that finn liked some byler art that had the quote “im not gonna fall in love” on it so that made a lot of people like 👀.

then everything the cast and duffers have said leading up to volume one only increased my confidence. i went into volume one completely expecting more obvious queer coding and i was right to. i was already overly confident but the biggest thing from volume one that made me more confident wasnt even a byler scene, it was mike and el’s fight. im glad they had her explicitly call him out for not saying he loves her. they kinda had to spell it out for the general audience. that was a really good scene and the fact that they played eulogy over it!!!?? insane. i lost my mind when i watched that episode a second time and realized that. that is 10000% intentional and the only explanation could be that that fight was the death of their relationship.

anywho yeah ive shipped them almost since the beginning and its been so fun slowly realizing that theyre actually going to do this and watching it build up and seeing the general audience start to catch on. it added a whole other layer to a show that already would have been my favorite either way just because of the plot alone.

#that was a long ass answer #i like talking about my byler journey #stranger things #byler #eden answers

[bandersnatch-cucumberpatch]

cbs ghosts opinions

i hadnt intended on posting about cbs ghosts because i hadnt intended on watching it (it just didnt seem like my cup of tea) but the curiosity got to me and now i have thoughts, please stick around for below the cut to hear them (pls note that i have nothing against the show, but i also dont think i owe it any favours just because the story comes from our six idiots):

it was,,, alright. it wasnt a struggle to watch, i laughed a couple of times, but it didnt do all that much to draw me in (that being said perhaps if i hadnt seen the bbc one first i would have been more interested). but there are a couple things i want to talk about

visuals - we all already knew what it was going to look like, very set like, basic lighting setups, cheap costumes, its not ideal. the look of the show doesnt strictly take anything away from it, but i feel like if more effort had been put into costuming and cinematography it really could have elevated the show. also i had some issues with editing; theres one scene in episode one that i found super confusing because they kept breaking the 180 rule and i couldnt get a sense of the locations, there were also some very obvious edits in this scene which really took me out of it. the greenscreen/sfx werent fantastic either but im willing to look past that because its not something i care about personally

dialogue - there are definitely some good jokes, tho it felt odd to me just how much they lifted from the original scripts. i appreciate that the cast have clearly seen the og series but it meant some of the line delivery was exactly the same and that did feel like a bit of a cop out. i did enjoy how they played the sams dead ‘tough loss’ joke, because im sure for first time viewers there really would have been a moment of worry. 

writing - a little bit separate to dialogue a guess; there was too much exposition. they revealed so much information so quickly and it makes me worry how theyre going to stretch out a story. im not a fan of plot twists that simply contradict what we’ve been told and i feel thats all they can do from here. I cant see it having more than one decent season, because they havent left much space for the story to develop. i also didnt like how much they overexplained the jokes, i think it undermines the audiences intelligence. 

characters - the characters were a little cartoonish for my personal taste. in the bbc show the characters are the heart of the story and i dont feel theyre all that grounded in this version. i know the characters we know and love are flawed but theyre still likeable, and im finding it hard to like the cbs counterparts. im torn on isaac, i dont think hes bad as a character, im perfectly happy for him to be more camp than cap. but i do think theyre overdoing the gay jokes, and a lot of them are at his expense (ie the musical theatre jokes), i think itll be hard to create a layered, empathetic arc for him if the writers are too busy making us try to laugh at him.

relationships - i didnt enjoy the argument between sam and jay, i think thats not a good way to frame a caring couple (at least not from the outset) tho im pleased at how jay came around at the end. they dont feel on the same wavelength but im happy to give that time. i did NOT like petes comments about carol, why did they have to make him dislike her? i feel like its a very cheap and overplayed joke

pace - i feel like they jumped into the story too quickly, we didnt get as much context establishment prior to the start of the plot. its supposed to exist separately to the bbc version but it didnt take the time to set it up for a newcomer audience which feels a little odd. it sort of presumes you know the deal already

alright those are my major points, ive got a couple of tiny complaints:

- a couple of times it felt like they were going to address important aspects of history and colonisation but then they backed out, i think they should either commit or not, because edging a conversation does nothing productive

- the trevor nudity joke just felt a little crude and out of place, i dont think it was necessary 

- i like thorfinn but it sounds like hes doing a bad impression of chris hemsworths thor, which is already a bad impression (sorry chris hemsworth), idk why hes doing a weird english accent instead of a Scandinavian one

- sam was just a little too quick to adapt to the ghosts, its a major life event and she accepted it very suddenly

overall its fairly decent. i think the cast and crew enjoyed making it but it doesnt have the love put into that our beloved bbc ghosts possesses; tho that might develop over time as the cast gets to know eachother.  its not really my preferred sense of humour, but i enjoyed it enough to keep watching. and at the end of the day this version isnt a show for me and thats ok, other people should get to enjoy it.

i dont think anyone owes it to the idiots to watch and/or enjoy it, they really have no creative input. just because they approved the use of the idea doesnt mean theyre an active part of this version, so if  you dont wanna watch it isnt a slight against them. tho i presume they get royalties or something so if you wanna watch to help them get more then go for it. 

please feel free to discuss in the comments im open to all opinions so long as youre respectful

#cbs ghosts #tbh at least its better than the horrible histories reboot #i think its important to keep the tags separate if we arent discussing both #six idiots #cbs #rose mciver #utkarsh ambudkar #richie moriarty #brandon scott jones #roman zaragoza #asher grodman #danielle pinnock #sheila carrasco #rebecca wisocky #cbs ghosts spoilers

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter 6- Last Christmas

Hi all! Sorry she took forever- I edited all by myself, so be gentle!

Plans change. Tickets do too, it seems. Harry's beautiful hope, his gift, it came in handy.

Not in the right way, the intended way. Not because she came to him, ran around the world or even an unfamiliar city with him. Those were dreamy ideas, when she wound up spending all of fall semester in Holmes Chapel. Those daydreams shaded the hospital walls and funeral home with sunny possibilities.

Her father had a heart attack and her mother a breakdown. It was too late, when her mother noticed he'd been out with the dog for too long and the dog was inside whining.

"I knew, in my gut. Day dawned wrong. And then never ended." She'd cried. Her mother had cried in her arms in a reversal Emma felt was way beyond her maturity level.

That hadnt been over the phone. Over the phone had only been muffled sobbing and her dad's name, "John."

Emma didn't call him John, but she could forgive her mother. It was up to her mother's good friend Di to share the news: Emma had always looked up to Di, she'd had some tragic marriage in her youth, and then decided god damned men weren't for her.

At the moment, Emma was of a similar mind.

Emma assumed she'd have a similar life to Di, had planned for it actually. Di had her own house, a thriving career as a solicitor and no children. A life like that, of her own, was Emma's dearest wish before she wished to be able to say yes to Harry.

Now she just wished her dad was still around.

There were so many plans to make, a funeral to finance and a mother to support, to put back together.

It's a wonder Emma wasn't an outright romantic, the way her parents had been, lifelong sweethearts. They still had moon eyes for each other until the very end, could be found holding hands on the couch often. Emma had come home unexpectedly early last year and found her mother sitting on the kitchen counter with her father between her legs making out like teenagers.

It was a lot to live up to.

Emma supposed it was why she kept all her heart eyes and love life in the closet and saved it all up to spend once a year. Just like an old lady's Christmas budget.

This year, she didn't think it would be happening. Harry must have had some rich person thing going on with the ticket, because the minute she decided that rather than ask her mom to buy her a ticket to get home, for the funeral, instead use the one she  had from Harry, he'd called. There was clear excitement in his voice, hot on the heels of her phone call to the airlines. It was August. He was set to embark soon, she'd just got back to Amsterdam. He must have thought she was gonna sneak in a cheeky visit.

"You're coming?"

"What?" She was so disoriented. Coming where? What was going on? Her brain was muffled with plans her feelings kept stumbling over at the knees like a trip wire.

"To see me? I got a notification you used the ticket?"

Her brain was muddled, like an egg in a hot pan, what? How did he do that? "No, Harry, umm I'm not coming. I don't even know where you are right now." She barely knew where she was.

"Whose fault is that?" There was a tiny edge to his voice that would cut her if she could even notice. "You could have answered my calls."

"Harry," she sighed, she had been avoiding him a bit. Mostly because she had an evergreen memory of his disappointed face when she told him going on tour was too much, that she simply didn't have the time. She was glad she couldn't see his face when she said the next bit. His voice was buoyant with hope, she was about to pop that balloon. "I need the ticket to go somewhere else." She couldn't bear to say it, was biting her lip hard not to think it, the liquid memory brimming anyway.

"Yeah, ok. Well, Happy Christmas I guess. See you in four months, maybe." The bitterness in his voice was like an old lemon and she didn't even have time to sweeten it with truth when his phone clicked off.

That made her resentful. How could this truth be sweet in any way? It got worse over time, the resentment just nestled among her other griefs.

Then he wouldn't answer her calls. She supposed that was giving her a taste of her own medicine and it was a quick wash down her throat with no water after the other jagged pill life had just forced down her throat.

And it didn't get better. Though, she had to scoff at herself for even having a square of heart for Harry to break leftover.

Break it did though, when she heard he had a new girlfriend, a blonde, a model, a French blonde model.

Of course.

Emma couldn't help but stalk her instagram. His was useless, ill used, so when she'd finished a day of running the house she'd been a child in while taking care of her grieving mother, she'd torture herself some more and watch stories where the beautiful blonde played in a pool, or made jokes, or showed the big mirror over her bed.

That one hurt most. She'd never seen Harry's bed, nor he hers. The little devil voice inside her head whisper shouted that he much preferred the one he was in now, with the mirror and the model to the tiny inn room they'd spent all their overnights in.

She didn't hear from him, and she never called to explain herself either. What would she say? My life fell apart and I needed your ticket, but it hurt to much to say it out loud and you were to much of an asshole to let me say it.

Harry wasn't an asshole, not really, he was hurt. Emma was stunned she had that power, though she had admitted to herself there was more between them than mistletoe kisses and holiday fucks.

She'd admitted it was more to her.

He acted like it was more to him, unless this was just a bruised ego. She didn't like to think that. Harry had every reason to have a giant head, figuratively to go with the oversized cranium he actually sported, but he'd never shown it. He was cocky at times, just enough to be sexy. All of that was a veneer over a sweet vulnerability that made everybody want to be around him, protect him, love him.

Did she love him?

No, she didn't think so, but given more time, the potential was there, like a rock at the top of a hill, all it would take was a push.

Which, time on tour with him would have been. If she could have went. Which she couldn't. She wanted to explain all of this to him as soon as she has the chance- which she would in 6 hours.

Her promises to herself were that she would not cry and that she would accept his new relationship. His real relationship. Emma would not try to touch him, or kiss him, or confess her almost love to him.

He was probably in love himself, from her internet stalks, she was halfway there, with both of them. Harry edged it out by being perfect in person. Camille, that was frenchies name, could only be half as perfect as Emma made her in her head.

"Do I wear the sweater?" She asked her reflection. She'd had to become her best friend the last six months. Emma might have called her mom her best friend, just based on time spent together, if their relationship was reciprocal, but at this turn of the road, she was supporting her mom as she grieved and got back to herself. Emma could see glimmers. She had hope.

She however wasn't sure she had hope for herself. Was she really contemplating wearing the sweater Harry gave her last Christmas to his mother's Christmas party? How pathetic was that? She was rolling her eyes at herself. He'd had a big year, and he bought lots of gifts, probably for his new girl, so her thinking he'd remember felt narcissistic.

Plus, it was her favorite, which mostly had nothing to do with the fact it was from Harry.

Emma really didn't want to go, but Gemma was expecting her. And she really needed to see her, have her support. They'd been texting, a lot. Gemma had heard about her dad and reached out. It was the only emotionally connection Emma really had, those texts, and she needed to see Gemma, honestly. Even if it meant seeing Harry.

She might have wanted to see Harry.

To explain, and maybe just to see him. Make sure he was happy, feel his warmth, steal him back.

No, that was unlikely. See if he was happy and wish him well.

She wore the sweater.

The house was cozy when she arrived, like it always was and it thawed her heart enough for it to ache a bit. For something new. Her heart ached a fair bit off and on, then went numb. It was the only way she'd survived lately. Emma knew she was putting off really feeling her major loss.

It was a strange pleasure to mourn something as minor as heartbreak.

The hug from Gemma made the trip through the snow and down memory lane worth it. And the people all around her and their laughter were invigorating.

The alcohol helped as well. Their house was pretty dry but had been especially when she started to notice her mom was unconsciously developing a bottle a day habit. When it wasn't there she didn't mention it though, so Emma didn't buy it, except for special occasions.

She was merry, and felt held. Her hand was in Gemma's. She'd stayed away from the back bathroom and the kitchen, even come in the front door.

Emma felt like she was getting away with it.

Harry wasn't there, with girlfriend in tow or not. So all her pontificating about checking on him was all for naught, and she was getting all the crosses. She certainly felt like today was a plus.

Until she heard a tone of elation issue from Anne's happy voice that only motherly joy could produce.

Harry was here.

"Fuck!" Came out of her mouth, and Gemma looked at her sharply.

"What?"

"Nothing, guess I'm jumpy, your mum's shout made me spill." Emma thought she shouted an excuse me while she hurried up the stairs to hide, find a place farthest away from Harry and his happiness. He might be alone, but if he was glowing like a brand, the way he did when they holed up together only slightly dimmed by their parting, now because of it, from some other lover, Emma couldn't stand it.

Plus, she thought she'd heard another name connected to his over her own rated r exclamation.

She was coming out of the bathroom. Emma had suppressed her tears ruthlessly and her bottom lip might bruise from the brutal teeth marks she employed. She'd have given herself some words in the mirror, affirmations helped, but what was she gonna say. "You're happy for him."

She wasn't. She was happy with him.

"Fuck this." Emma decided the only course of action was a straight line to her parents house. her mother's house, she mentally corrected and gave herself a more legitimate reason to cry than over a boy. Even if that boy was Harry Styles.

Who she barely stopped herself from running into as she kept her head down and rounded the bannister to head down the stairs.

"Jesus! You gave me a fright!" She dramatized and kept a hand over her heart and her tear stained face down.

"Emma." His voice was flat, and not cold, but the warmth that snuggled around her name was absent and she shivered. "I wondered if you'd be here." Not Hoped, she noted. "What are you doing up here? Don't your usually use the back bathroom?" There was just a bit of heat in that statement, but it didn't warm, it burned. Was he being mean, that wasn't like him? "Nice sweater." Ok, definitely mean.

Her face came up with that thought, it shocked her out of the sense of control she was exercising.

He did look hard, mean, for a moment, but soft around the edges like a melting popsicle when he caught her face.

"Are you crying?" His hand came up and he stopped it mid air before it wiped away her tear.

Emma felt her body lean into him and another tear slipped out when his warm palm and always chilly finger tips touched her cheek.

God she'd missed him! While she was bolstering her mother, she'd needed support. He was supportive, or would have been. But he wasn't taking her calls, and she couldn't bring herself to text, "my dad died". Then, it was such old news, she figured he'd have heard from Gemma.

He took his hand away like she was a hot cooktop.

He pushed his hair back off his forehead with the hand probably damp with her tears and bravely changed the subject. "How long you in town for this time? Jetting off to some climate refuge hotspot soon?"

Emma flinched. Oh- he didn't know.

"Un, no, I'm living here." She didn't elaborate, maybe saying it out loud was as hard as texting it. "I was actually just about to head home to check on my mum. The back bathroom was in use, and the cold makes me need to pee." What the fuck was she talking about, he didn't need that information.

His dimple pressed in just a bit and he went to say something, but Emma just couldn't. She couldn't look at him anymore, or tell him about why she lived there, or about the ticket he seemed to have been hurt enough to move on over. She definitely didn't want to see evidence of his movement, especially not his upgrade. "Anyway, nice to see you," the words shot out of her mouth, impresonal and true. "Bye Harry."

"Wait Emma!" She thought she heard, but she just kept going. She'd tell Gemma she was sick.

She nearly was when she saw Harry's girlfriend hugging her closest friend in the living room.

"Oh god."

Luckily, when she got home, her mum was awake and feeling chatty, not blue. Emma focused on her and the special she was watching. Let the warm sound of her mother's once common laughter wrap around her as a blanket. It was more comforting than a cup of tea.

She waited until later to cry herself to sleep.

The next day was Christmas- the first without her father. She dried her rightful tears before she saw her mom, though she would have had all the standing in the world for them and she felt better about them than those she's shed the night before. She knew though that her wet face would cause a cascade event, the first drop in a waterfall, so she dried them up.

They had traditions to get through.

And get through they did. They each wrapped a gift for her father that they left under the tree and held each other right before tucking into a late brunch and preparing a boozy and sweet laden Christmas dinner, Emma contributed the puddings.

They were very much her mother's favorite, and she broke out a scandi recipe she'd enjoyed the last several years.

She Skyped her university friends, they exchanged the small gifts she'd mailed them and them her. She missed them something awful. She missed school horribly, so much she even emailed her advisor. All of her heart hoped to return after the winter break.

Emma thought the feeling of missing something was a bit like a paper cut and losing your keys combined.

Harry called late Christmas Day, just a few minutes shy of Boxing Day. That more than stung, it was a gut punch, or a knife plunge, though she'd never had either.

Emma ignored the call from Harry. What was there to say?

Boxing Day, well, Emma wasn't much of a drinker, but it was basically a tenet of British culture to get obliterated while watching the queen.

For the last several years, Emma had been off her face on Harry. This year she chose savingnon blanc with her mum. Two days, then they'd go back to a dry house. Tradition was tradition, and she couldn't think about the one she'd started and ached all over for.

What a pale imitation of ecstasy drunkenness was, though she supposed they both left a hangover, a residue.

Her bed, when she begged off to it early was warm and fragrant, but it smelled all wrong. No sandalwood or black coffee, not even the mint she'd come to associated with the comfort of love, or something like it.

It was worse, because when she closed her eyes, having seen Harry's someone in person, she could see him snugged up to her, so cozy. It was in their place, their room at the Boat's Head.

It was over, Boxing Day, when she puked.

She had another missed call from Harry. 11:59 Her personal witching hour.

The next day was a little bit better, either because she had her literal hangover to tend, or because she'd ripped the bandaid off her hurt and let the wound air.

"Hiya!" Gemma's voice and face were bright, unlike the gray day.

"Hello." Emma smiled and her voice held it, she held onto it. "You're merry!"

"Yeah, I'm at the pub. Everybody is at the pub," she flashed the phone around so Emma could see the waving swaying people, "we wanted to get you outta the house, you made such an effective Irish exit the other day you've let your people down, we need to see your smile. You feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you." Emma thought about it, there was a pull to the pub. "Um, maybe I can swing over."

It only took a few minutes to throw on jeans and a jumper, not her former favorite. The walk was a little longer.

When she found them, her first comment was "Im not drinking!" Over a grimace.

"Too much wine with old Elizabeth, huh? " Gemma Laughed

"Yes! Did you know my mum has a long pour?" Emma shared with a laugh.

"No, but mine's gotten more heavy on the booze with me lately, they must like the new stages. Daughters as actual friends and drinking partners. Mum is thrilled!" Gemma grinned.  "So am I! Harry's a little jealous."

Emma tried to catch her grimace before it stomped across her face. Gemma kept talking and she thought she'd got away with it.

"He wants to be one of the girl's! He came down last night and mum, Camille and I were sharing wine and mum was showing her atrocious pictures. You'd think he'd be mad or embarrassed! He was like, 'Where's my glass?'" Gemma was staring at her while she chuckled.

Emma had less success not responding. Her face was a picture she was sure, a jealous one. And then she heard herself asking, "what's she like?" She gulped down the g word she almost voiced. "Camille?"

Gemma made a funny face, then looked at her again. "Um, she's silly and kinda quiet and I think she's worried my mom will care she's posed nude."

She wouldn't. That wasn't Anne's style. And if she did have an issue, she'd never voice it. She was really big on respecting her kids choices. Even some of the stupider ones Harry had made.

Was she ranked among those now?

"Why do you ask?" The gentleness in a Gemma's voice told Emma she knew more than she was saying.

Emma couldn't explain, she was still in such a tender state, like a fissured piece of glass, she knew she couldn't go over it. "I just hope Harry's happy."  It was the only true thing she could say.

And Gemma, bless her just looped her arm through Emma's and said like she was holding a cracked egg. "He is." She left it at that, before she stood, pulling Emma after her. "And we need another drink." Apparently Emma was drinking, she needed it.

They spent another couple hours at the pub and Emma walked home through the soft snow. Her nose was stuffy, and her eyes were leaking, and she was drunk. Least she realized she must be, cuz she was crying. She really hated crying.

She was still weeping under her breath when she got home and found Harry on her doorstoop.

"You're still here?" She boggled. She assumed he'd taken his girlfriend to his big London home Emma had never been to, since she wasn't ever his g word.

"Yeah." He rubbed his hands over his corduroy flares. She'd consider what that might mean, but the pants distracted her. Those were new, must be getting fashion influences from new places, mew people. Those pants were roomy for him. He looked good in them. He looked good, happy.

"Did you need something?" Seeing himwas ripping her guts out and she could barely keep more tears at bay. Her insides were dangerously close to the skin now, tender and exposed. She hoped the distance between them and the weather and, well, maybe his rose colored glasses brought on by loving some other girl, he wouldn't notice her crying.

Over him. At the moment.

"No, I, um," he swallowed. "I thought we might talk." He made those green eyes at her and she hated it. Cuz they were soft and for someone else these days.

"I think we've said it all."

"We haven't said anything, not really, in a year."

"Yeah, well actions over words mate." Good, she was angry. She tried to go around him, into her door. Out of the cold and this situation.

"Emma, wait." He caught her shoulders and her blood froze in her veins but her tears were hot on her cheeks. "I'mso sorry about your dad." He choked up too.

She looked at him and let hurt run down her face, didn't even bother trying to stiffen her upper lip. When he opened his arms, she went to him and cried in a way she really hadn't let herself, into the comfort of his scent, the hurt of his presence.

Emma wasn't sure how long she cried, they wound up siting on the cold stone bench when their knocking knees froze.

"S that why you used the ticket?" He whispered against her hair sometime later.

She nodded. Sniffed up her tears and his pain laced smell.

"Why didn't you call me?"

She shrugged.

"I would have understood. And I would have come, to be with you."

Her tears apparently hadn't run out. She knew that, but she was hurt, by his hurt and his expectation.

She looked up at him. Her lips were so close to his, the outer edge that felt so plush and lovely.

That was a Liberty she didn't have. Maybe never a right she had, like him just expecting her to drop her goals to go to him.

"Where's your girlfriend?" She said the word like the four letters it felt like it was to her.

"Um," he stumbled over the subject change . "She was tired."

"You tell her you were coming to see a girl you used to fuck?"

"What?" He looked at her with a frown and Emma supposed she was being mean, mean but honest. "Don't say it like that. That's not what we were about."

Emma quirked a brow at him. "No?"

"Listen, why are you being like this?" He swallowed and looked like the wronged party when he was the one who assumed the worst of her, then abandoned her, moved on, and showed up, she could only assume, to rub it in her face.

The last year had been the worst of her life, and he'd been part of that. Mostly his absence.

Whoever's fault that was.

"Look, I don't need your pity or your condolences. Or your forgiveness. You just assumed I was taking advantage of you like you didn't know me at all. Which I realized is true apart from knowing what I look like naked, right? Let's be honest Harry? Huh, I'm just the girl you used to fuck over break. Your Christmas bit of fun. Til you found your next model. Who you couldn't wait to come home and show off, right in my face. So if we were more, you're a heartless asshole." She was crying over him now, but half the tears at least were angry and her face must be bright red.

The kicked puppy look on his face was so genuine and felt so false to her she could scream. "Why would I even think you would care if I had a girlfriend or not? If anybody was just the person the other thought of as a holiday fling, it was you about me, Emma."  He huffed, took down the finger he'd stood up to point at her. "I tried for more, asked for more?"

"When?" He'd asked for more, how'd she miss that?

"What'd you think the ticket was for? That was me asking you for more, at least more time?"

"I don't have extra time." She countered. Emma supposed that was some mealy mouthed passive way of saying you wanted to spend time with a person at least.

"And I do?" He yelled that before taking a big breath and muttering sorry. "Listen, I know what you're about, and that you are very serious saving the world, but I'm just as busy as you, more, and I would have made time for you."

"Why?" She stood up into his space. "So I could just miss you more, fall more for you and not get to have you in any real way? To torture myself?" And there is was. Emma knew the ache of the first weeks without him, and she'd always counted their brief time together as worth it. Subjecting herself to more just seemed masochistic. "Have more time with you so I have to get over you all over again multiple times a year."

"Who says you would have had to get over me? We could have been together!" Both of their voices had escalated past the bounds of polite disagreement.

"Together in every way except literally?" She threw her hands out at her sides. "What's the point of that?"

"The point?" He huffed. "The point is that I wanted you and you wanted me, and we could have had each other, but you're too busy," he sneered, "and couldn't talk to me."

"I couldn't talk to anyone!" She screamed. "I was supposed to text you that my dad died and I needed to use the ticket that was supposed to be a gift but was more like a curse, to take care of my mom. That my dream was at best on hold while I made sure my mum could get out of bed?" He looked a little slapped. "While you were off what? Being a rockstar? Having a record breaking year? Moving on? Out of spite?!" She didn't want to think that, but she'd wondered. She knew she was giving herself to much credit. "Why you made sure to bring her to Holmes Chapel? You take her to the Boar's Head too? Or just fuck her in your mum's powder room?" The words were explosive, the cadence like charges lighting off each other. Emma felt like a powder keg.

He was shaking his head. "Stop it. No, no, I didn't move on, not until I thought you were done with me."

"Oh, when I needed you and you wouldn't answer my calls?"

He looked at the ground then. When his eyes came up , the lovely green of them was even more vibrant, due to the tears crowding around their ages. "Emma, I'm so sorry about that. I'll never forgive myself."

His sincerity softened her, though the anger she'd wrapped around herself like a coat was all that was keeping her ribs together.

"I'm so sorry, I know the last year has been more than anybody should have to bear, especially alone." He took  a big breath. "But Camille, I didn't, it's not," he stumbled over the words like they were glass edges, but Emma had a feeling she was the one who was about to get cut. "Um, she and I just met and, well, we, we get on." That was a kind way to put it. "I wasn't looking for somebody else. But I was lonely and she's," the changes on his face ripped through Emma. "She's lovely. I brought her home, because I wanted mum to meet her." That told Emma everything.

"You love her?" She already knew the answer.

He ran his hand through his locks, avoided eye contact until the last second, "yeah, yeah, I think I might."

Emma was nodding, biting her lip to gatekeep the fresh round of tears threatening. "That's good Harry, I'm," she breathed, "I'm happy for you."

He looked at her then. "Really?"

"Course, I care about you, your happiness." That brought on the tears and he reached for her and she had to throw up her hands to keep him away. "No, no, please don't touch me."

His phone rang, he was the only person she knew who actually kept their ringer on. Well the only person under 50, it made her smile. Then cringe, the weird personal knowledge she had because of how much of an almost they were. From his face, Emma knew it was his actual calling.

"Um," he shady buttoned the call. "I have to go."

"Yeah," was all she could respond with, she already knew that. "Well, have a happy nee year Harry. You sticking around?" God she hoped not. May have to convince her mum to go to London if so.

He shook his head, "Um no, we're going to Paris." Ouch. Emma tried for subtle when she wrapped an arm around herself. "Sorry, I'd like," he always looked so genuine lately, in every interview she'd watched to hurt herself, his heart on his sleeve, in his eyes now. "I'd like to hug you, think you could stomach it?"

Emma nodded and went to him for the barest second and then concentrated on the pressure behind her eyes while he kept her close. "I'm so sorry Emma, for everything. I'd really like to be friends," he'd pulled back to hold her eye line at that.

She nodded, she wasn't sure how she'd handle that, but at best it was a couple phone calls, and no weekends away, they hadn't mentioned that in their middle state, she didn't think it would be to hard to keep him at arms length when they had continents between them most times. "Yeah, ok, friends. You take care of yourself, Harry." Emma was a strong girl, woman now, she could handle some texts and a phone call or so.

He kissed her cheek, a continental affectation she closed her eyes over and turned to go. He was almost out of the gate when he turned back. "I'd never take her to the Boar's Head, by the way, that's our place. I'd never take anybody else there." Before she could even think of a response he looked away quick and started to go. "Take care of yourself, Emma. Happy New Year." That came back to her on the wind.

Blew away like the hold she had on the heart she'd given him last Christmas. At least he was someone special.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #tis the damn season #ttds #chapter 6 #last Christmas

[world-of-aus]

I’ll be there for you - Part 2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 4,780

Warnings: mentions of abortion (extremely brief), a pinch of angst, a pinch of fluff

Author’s Note: Second chapter, there will be one final one after this, its currently being written and edited, so i hope to have it out soon! I hope you all enjoy part two and part one will be linked below if you have not caught up yet! 

SERIES MASTERLIST

Bucky grinned at you no longer hesitant In grabbing a hold of your outstretched hand, the two of you walking towards the waiting nurse

“Good morning, follow me this way!” She chirped happily.

Much like at the clinic it went the same, after taking your vitals she turned to you, “I’ll need you to undress from your bottom half, and put this over yourself, the doctor will be in shortly.”

You stared after her eyes wide as you took in what she had requested of you. “Uh,” you began turning your head slightly towards Bucky. He was grinning at you deviously, a twinkle in his eye, “it’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

Your mouth fell open at his statement, “you haven’t seen it before.” You hissed.

He held his hands up in mock surrender, “alright alright grouchy, you could have just told me you wanted me to see it.” He teased throwing you a wink.

You gasped reaching out to smack his arm slightly earning you a chuckle, “James Buchanan Barnes, you cut that out right now,” you grunted, “turn around I don’t need you seeing my lady bits, not like this.” You murmured without thinking.

He smirked up at you, “oh, so you would like me to see eventually?” he questioned in a teasing tone.

“I - I- would you shut up and turn around so I can undress!” you hissed your cheeks flaring in embarrassment.

He let out a low chuckle but stood anyway turning his back to you. You made quick working of kicking off your shoes pulling down your jeans and panties covering yourself with the paper like fabric over your bottom half. You got back onto the exam table making sure you were fully covered before giving Bucky the okay to turn around. He was turning to face you just as the doctor was knocking at the door, her head peering in, she smiled at the two of your brightly, “Good morning you two, hello y/n,” she greeted, “how are you feeling?" she questioned.

“Honestly, a little exposed,” you murmured, which earned a laugh from her and Bucky.

“Well we wouldn’t want that,” she joked back, “Well lets go ahead and check on the baby, since your last period was april 10, you should be around 9 weeks but after this sonogram we’ll able to tell you how far along you actually are, as well as your due date” she stated.

You nodded your head as she moved around the room gathering the things she needed as well as moving a monitor closer to your bedside table, “Uh dad,” she said looking at Bucky, “you can move by the mom’s bedside, so you can have a better look at the baby, and not so much of well you know.”

You were absolutely mortified, not because the doctor had called Bucky the dad but because she was referring to your lady bits!

Bucky let out a low chuckle as he moved around to your side his chair scraping against the tile.

“Alright y/n since you’re still too early to detect with our regular sonogram wand, we’re going to do it through our transvaginal ultrasound wand, you may feel some pressure but I promise that’s totally normal,” the doctor walked you through the entire thing, showing you the wand she was planning to use.

“Alright you two, you ready to see baby?” she questioned cheerfully. You and Bucky both reached for each other, your hand gripping his tightly in yours, you chewed on your lower lip as she began to insert the wand.

The screen went from a black grey screen to exactly the same image, but now there was a bean shaped sack with a - “is that a tadpole?” Bucky spoke up.

The doctor laughed, “No, sorry to disappoint dad, but that there is your baby your looking at,” your eyes began to glisten as you looked over at the screen, “Alright let’s see if we can hear a heartbeat,” she murmured as she toggled around with the computer. You watched as she enhanced the screen, suddenly a soft rapid whooshing filled the room. The first tear fell from your eyes, “Is that – is that really their heartbeat?” you sniffled looking at the screen through blurred eyes.

The doctor looked over to you giving you a warm smile as she passed you a tissue, “Sure is momma, and from the looks of it you are about 9 weeks like predicted, so your due date will be January 20, granted everything goes well in the course of the next months, and nothing changes.”

The doctor resumed to a regular screen, printing a screen image for you of your first ultrasound, you grabbed it from her hand looking over the image, “Here’s one for dad to,” she said handing you another image. You went to go correct her but Bucky was cutting you off as he rushed out a quick “thanks” snatching the picture from your hands.

After you had finished with your sonogram you and the doctor talked back and fourth about any concerns you had, you even occasionally found yourself wanting to turn to Bucky to ask if he had any questions, but then the cold reality of this not being his child and the reality of your actual situation would hit you and you would have to bite your tongue.

“Well if you have no further questions ill go ahead and let you get changed, and once your finished up in here you can get dressed and make your way to the front to schedule your next appointment.” She smiled.

You and Bucky both thanked her watching as she exited the room, he handed you over you clothes turning away from you so that you could change, you could feel a shift in energy between the two of you, but you weren’t sure what could have caused it.

After setting up your next appointment you and Bucky exited the office he was busy typing away on his phone with one hand the sonogram gripped tightly in his other.

You stood by his side patiently waiting for him to finish up so that you could thank him for being here at the appointment with you and maybe throw in an apology for the doctors continuous slip up of calling him dad which you never corrected.

After a minute he was pocketing his phone glancing up at you the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips, “so you want to get breakfast?” He questioned throwing you for a loop.

You gaped at him, “Buck you’re supposed to head back to the tower after this.”

He grinned, “texted the team I wouldn’t be returning after all, have some more important things to be tending to.” He winked

You rolled your eyes slightly at the wink, a grin forming on your lips, “Bucky,” you sighed, “you need to stop coping out of important things with the team for me, they’re going to get suspicious.”

He swung his arm around you pulling you in closer, “they’re already suspicious, but they’re not going to suspect a thing, don’t worry doll.” He assured.

You went to question his “they’re already suspicious” statement but he was already whisking you away to the parking lot not giving you time for an argument.

Your pregnancy was passing you by in a nauseatingly grumpy haze, you were three months in and already tired. Your coworkers had been constantly questioning your crabbiness, but you had always been able to pass it off as stress from a new assignment, or just stress of life in general and they were quick to except your answer as you were still not showing yet. Bucky had been an absolute angel through your morning sickness and well the whole newness that came with being pregnant, it seemed he was always there to lend you a helping hand when necessary, truly the man would never back down, not even when you were snapping at him, oh no, that only caused him to dote on you harder, leaving you to moan and groan under your breath.

Canceling plans had become part of Bucky’s routine and just like he had promised those 3 months ago that the team would not become suspicious of him always bailing they indeed had. It had been another of those nights where he had bailed on the team again. They had been trying to get Bucky out and on a date for the past month, but Bucky was insistent that he wasn’t interested, well that hadnt worked out the least in his favor. You and Bucky had been relaxing on the couch watching a series on Netflix, when a persistent pounding sounded at your door. Bucky glanced over at you, then back over to the door, “were you expecting someone?” he questioned. You shook your head, Bucky sighed as he pushed himself off the couch making his way to the door. He was barely unlocking the door before it was swinging open, Sam barging in, Steve and Natasha trailing behind him.

“alright tinman, enough is enough, you’ve been bailing on us for too long now, you’re going out with us whether you want to or not!” Sam stated as he entered your home.

“Yeah Barnes, I’m sorry to say, but I agree with Sam on this one,” Natasha spoke up from the trio.

Bucky turned to Steve baffled, “Sorry bud, but I'm going to also have to agree on this one, we barely see you,” he said, “no offense to you y/n” he added acknowledging your presence on the couch.

“So go get changed and meet us out here, were going out and your coming with us, we’re going to get you a girl.” Sam announced, the words made your heart into the depths of your stomach.

“Sam come on man, me and y/n are watching a show, I can’t just bail on her.” Bucky spoke up.

“Look man of course you can, I’m sure y/n wouldn’t mind, you’re probably driving her crazy forcing her to spend this much time with you.” Steve added, “isn’t that right y/n?” he questioned looking at you.

You tried your hardest not to look like a deer in headlights, “Uh,” your eyes bounced around the room, “Uh, yeah no, that’s fine, he can go out with you,” you murmured, not bearing to meet anybody’s eyes without giving away your emotions.

“See!” Sam exclaimed swinging his arm out in your direction, “she said it’s cool, besides that’s why Nat tagged along, she’s going to keep your girl company, while we’re out.”

“Wouldn’t say I'm his girl, if the reason you’re taking him out is to find him a girl,” you muttered with an eye roll.

No more words were shared between the four of you as Sam and Steve pushed Bucky to his room, Natasha making her way over to you. Joining you on the couch a comfortable silence washed over the two of you for a short second before she was turning in her seat towards you. At first she didn’t say anything just watching you, her hands wandering your form, you swallowed feeling tense at her gaze.

“Your almost 4 months aren’t you, why aren’t you showing yet?” she questioned.

Your head snapped in her direction eyes going wide, “Excuse me?” you choked out. How did she know, nobody knew, how the hell did she find out?

“Come now y/n I'm actually hurt you think I wouldn’t find out.” she grinned her eyes burning into yours.

“How did you – how did you find out?” you murmured voice dropping to a whisper.

“Barnes may be able to resist the other two, but twist his arm a little and he squirms.” She shrugs.

Your mouth dropped open Natasha taking notice, “don’t worry he didn’t tell me much,” she tried to reassure, “but he had been so distant from the group, and so,” she tapped her finger to her chin as if in thought, “so happy, the other two were oblivious to it but he was practically glowing, it was just unlike the Bucky I had seen.”

You were unsure how to react much less what to say, you weren’t expecting this to happen, much less explain the situation. Had Bucky explained the entire situation, did he explain the agreement he had offered?

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, Barnes said it was an emotional subject,” she sighed, “ I’m sorry I spilled it like this on you, but I almost thought Barnes was bluffing about it, I’m sorry.” She whispered her hand coming to grip yours.

You gripped hers in yours, “it’s okay, I was expecting this to happen even if he had told me otherwise,” you said softly, “ I was also planning on eventually telling everyone as there’s only so much I can do/wear to hide the ever growing bump.” You whispered a small smile gracing your lips as you removed your hands from hers to smooth out your shirt over the small rounded bump.

Natashas eyes widened slightly glossy, “oh my god,” she whispered her hands coming out to lay over it, “that is the most precious thing I have ever seen.” She whispered glancing back at you.

You and Natasha heard the boys footsteps returning, their bellowing laughter filling the hall. Natasha pulled her hand away, you pulled at your shirt just as the boys came in.

“Everything alright?” Bucky questioned looking between you and Natasha suspiciously.

You nodded your head stiffly, “everything’s fine, you all should get out of here.” Natasha spoke up.

“Don’t have to tell us twice,” Sam cheered gripping Bucky’s shoulders tightly as he led him out of the house not letting Bucky give you or Natasha a second glance.

With the boys out of the house you and Natasha took some time to talk about your situation. You explained everything to her, from your drunken night, to finding out you were pregnant, to how Bucky had promised to be there for you through this, she even grilled you enough to the point that she had you spilling your feelings for the man.

“ты должен сказать ему, дорогаяq” she replied her hand falling on your shoulder.

“I don’t know Nat, just because he’s opting to be there for me doesn’t mean he’ll hold true to his word, and it definitely doesn’t mean he has feelings, he’s my best friend that’s all this is.”

She raised a brow at you shaking her head slightly, “типичный,” she sighed, “trust me y/n he’s not doing these for any of the reason’s you’re thinking, he really does care for you, and its definitely in more than a friendly way.”

You wanted to argue with the redhead but you knew it would’nt get you anywhere, much like Bucky she was strong willed and hardheaded and once set on something there was no changing her mind.

The two of you continued to enjoy your night, the hours ticking by as you and natasha watched films and talked about your plans for your pregnancy.

“You’re looking pretty tired y/n, i think i should head out and let you get some rest,” she murmured a small yawn passing by her lips. You looked at the clock on the stand next to you it was nearing 12 in the morning, and still no sign or word from the boys.

“Do you have a ride though?” you questioned, “ the boy’s arent even back yet, and i havent recieved any word from them.”

“Yeah i brought one of Tony’s cars with me, followed the boys here,” she said as she stood stretching out, “as for the boys,” she looked away as if contemplating the next words from her mouth.

“As for the boys?” you questioned

“Sam texted me to let you know not to wait up, they all found a lucky lady for the night.” she murmured.

Though your heart had cracked in two falling into the depths of your stomach, you would not let it show through on your face. Natasha had seen through you as she leaned towards you her hand falling softly to your shoulder, “I’m sorry y/n i had told Sam it wouldn’t be a good idea, but you know how Sam can be.”

You shook her concern off, “it’s fine Nat, it’s not like Bucky and i were a thing, he’s allowed to do whatever he pleases.” you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince more, yourself or her. Besides it was true, you had no right to feel any sort of way, you and Bucky weren’t a couple and the baby growing inside of you wasn’t his. Bucky was free to do his own thing, and you needed to remind yourself that no matter how bad you wished the circumstances were different. After seeing Natasha our and with wanting nothing else more than the comfort of your own bed you decided to call it a night.

You groaned, pushing the blankets off of you aggressively you sat up half asleep in bed stomach rumbling, mumbling profanities under your breath you let your feet touch the ground You glanced at the clock that said it was three fifteen in the morning another groan left your lips “Jesus Christ,” you muttered getting out of bed. You stomped over to the door pulling it open roughly, letting it swing against the wall, not caring that it made a thud that echoed throughout the eerily quiet house. You definitely didn’t care about the noise you were making, you were upset to have been forced awake by your hungered thoughts, that had your stomach growling this late like a creature of the night.

Opening the fridge you looked around before you reached in pulling out a carton of eggs. Setting them over by the stove you began going through his cabinets looking for a pan, once again not caring that you were slamming things around and being way too loud for three in the morning. Finally finding a pan you pulled at it only to realize it was caught on another pan, in a fit of frustration caused by your hunger you yanked at it causing more pans to fly from the cabinet as well. You groaned your head flying back, setting the pan you were going to use on the counter before bending down, which was getting harder as the days went on, you picked up all the other ones that littered the floor, shoving them back in the cabinet before slamming it shut, you knew the next time that cabinet was opened it would be raining pans.

You grabbed the closest bowl, grabbing a handful of eggs before you began to crack each one into your container.

“Y/n?” Bucky questioned, you jumped where you stood your hand coming up to rest on your wildly beating heart. You glanced up at him to see him shirtless wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms. His hair was a ruffled mess and he was rubbing his eye, staring at you. “What are you doing doll?”

You glared at him. “What does it look like I’m doing, I’m making eggs Einstein.” You said as you poured your battered liquid egg onto the waiting pan, reaching for a spoon so you could stir it.

“At three in the morning?” he questioned squinting at the clock on the microwave.

You shrugged “I was hungry, tried to fight it off as much as I could but I couldn’t.” You muttered.

“You couldn’t wait till morning, I was trying to get some sleep doll,” he said rubbing at his eyes, your face morphed into a glare.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I making too much noise for you? Did my noise interrupt your sleeping?” You grumbled swirling your eggs around angrily.

He raised a brow at you, “what?” He questioned taken aback by your tone, “is something going on?” He questioned

“I’m pregnant Barnes!” You hissed shutting off the stove. “I can’t control when I’m hungry, much less control anything else going on in my life, and honestly you should be a little more understanding!”

He looked at you face blank, “anything else you’d like to complain about?

You knew it had come out as a rhetorical question but due to the events of the night, you decided to just go at it.

“Actually you know what, yes, I have a bone to pick with you,” you started pointing an accusatory fork at him, “next time you plan on staying out late I’d appreciate if y’all didn’t keep me in the dark about it, I deserve to know things too and not have to find out you’re going to be “hooking up” with someone from her, we’re roommates Barnes I need to be alerted if you’re bringing a girl from the bar home.” You grunted shoveling a forkful of eggs into your mouth

His eyes twinkled, “anything else doll?” He mocked drawling out the word doll.

“Yes,” you muttered, “ I’m up at three in the morning eating god damned eggs when I should be sleeping like a normal person,” you started, “I’m fat, my work clothes and regular clothes are shrinking by the day and does that stop me from eating these eggs?” You scowled shoveling more in your mouth, bucky looked at you to continue, “it doesn’t,” you answer, “I also spend half my work day in the restroom because I have to pee every ten minutes, and you want to know another thing, you are allowed to go out and do whatever or whoever you want because this isn’t your responsibility, we’re just best friends who are roommates and I shouldn’t care that you’re out picking up women but it does.” You huffed, “ I’m tired of being pregnant, my emotions are all over the place and I can’t even control them, what the heck am I going to do for the next five months?” You groaned looking down at your now empty plate.

Bucky chuckled softly, “feel better?” He questioned moving around the island to step closer to you, you glanced up at him through your lashes a warm hue covering your cheeks when you saw his naked torso.

“Just a little,” you admitted lamely. You sucked in a breath holding it and letting it fill your lungs before it was escaping quickly through your nose. You filled looked over to him, “ I’m sorry Buck, I’m just so goddamn frustrated, I’m so tired, I just want this bean out already,” You sighed.

He gave you a warm smile, “I figured as much, that’s why I let you continue.” A smirk graced his lips as he caught your eyes slipping across his chest, “anything I can do to help relieve your stress?” He questioned lips pulled into a teasing smirk.

Your cheeks turned red at his teasing, your eyes turning away from his as you bit down on your lip. It took you a second before your could look at him again, this isn’t the first time he had made a teasing statement like this, your friendship had been built on the teasing moments,  but this was the first time that his eyes trailed your body the way they were. His eyes trailed your body taking in his shirt your wore, the one that wasn’t quite long enough to fall mid thigh on you with your bump, you knew if you moved even slightly he would get a view of your ass clad in your lace panties.

You didn’t say anything as the two of you stood there, a cloud of tension had settled over you so thick you probably could have seared it with a knife. This had never happened before, this was new territory for the both of you, but then you thought back to your conversation with Natasha and how you should tell him how you felt. While you weren’t sure you could do that just yet, you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore. You were hormonal and to be blunt a little horny, okay very horny. You leaned back against the island hoisting yourself up to perch yourself on the cool granite. Your eyes watched for Bucky’s reaction, you needed to know you weren’t reading into this, you needed to know this wasn’t one sided. Bucky’s eyes followed your movements, his eyes darkening slightly as he drank in your form. He walked closer to you closing the gap, his eyes locked with yours. He stopped In front of you, his eyes dropping to trail your legs, the fabric of his shirt doing nothing to conceal you, his eyes trailed up till they were locking with yours once more.

You continued to test the waters, pushing the boundaries a little farther as you pushed your legs apart, your feet swinging up to wrap around his waist to pull him closer. You slid forward on the counter, his body meet yours closing the distance. His hands creeped up to your hips gripping them, your hands reached out, fingers dancing along the smoothness of his chest trailing up where they locked behind his neck pulling him down to you. You faces were inches apart his warm ragged breath fanning across your face. His tongue peeked out wetting his lips, your body shivered craving his touch.

“Bucky” you breathed out his names ghosting across his lips, beckoning him to close the distance.

A small smirk kissed the side of his lips, as he leaned down his lips connecting with yours. The moment your lips touched you swore it was like a swarm of butterflies had been released in your stomach. You could feel the passion, the want, and was that love?

His hands fell from your hips fingers tracing lines along the skin of your thighs driving you absolutely insane. You pulled away from his lips your head thrown back as breathy moan fell from your lips. Bucky’s lips trailed down your jaw making their way across your neck seeking out that spot just underneath your ear.

“Buck” you moaned.

He pulled back slightly his lust filled eyes looking up at you,

“I want you, I want you so bad.” You breathed out staring into his ocean blue eyes.

His eyes softened and you knew that in that moment he understood your words. You knew he understood that you wanted him more than just in this moment.

You wanted him.

“You have me sweetheart,” he whispered into your lips as he connected them once again. You smiled into the kiss, feeling him do the same and for a second the focus shifted.

You were no longer just kissing in a lustful rage but instead the moment had slowed as you savored the feeling of his body against your own. With each kiss placed on your lips it brought on a whole new feeling of want and you knew that this would change things between the two of you. You knew that after this night there would be no going back. You were giving yourself over to him and he was taking it, showing you just how much you meant to him.

He wanted you.

His hands traveled back up your legs, brushing past you hips and coming to a stop at the small of your back. He pushed you forward gently hoisting you up in his arms, lifting you off the counter. He carried you effortlessly to his bedroom, setting you down on his plush bed. He tugged at your shirt, pulling it up and over your head smirking when he noticed you weren’t wearing a bra. His lips found yours again, your fingers running along his chest as he hovered above you you came to a stop just above the waistband of his pants.

He pulled away from you, a whimper falling from your lips at the loss of contact. He hovered over you, his hands on either side of your head holding him above you.

His eyes softened, “I need you to know this changes everything for me doll, I want to be there for you in more ways than one.”

“I know Buck,” you smiled a single hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere sweetheart, I want this with you, I want to be there for you, I want to do this with you.” He whispered as he leaned back down closing the distance between your lips once more. You pulled him closer to you, letting the feelings you had grown for him over the past months make themselves known as you gave yourself to him for the first time.

Part 3 FIN

Taglist: @minillamakeup-blog​

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au trope #au trope #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #fanfiction #fanfic

[graffitibible]

Do you have any advice for writing or creating regularly? That’s hard for me and I’d like to get better at it.

it boils down to what works best for you personally tbh. i’ve got a system to write semi-regularly (or i did......restricted movement hours have kinda forced me to restructure that lol) and it works for me but that’s just how my brainyot works. i’m a routine-based creature so working writing into my routine was how i got myself to write semi-regularly. 

ive also had significant Brain Junk for most of my life and was gradually able to navigate how best to create in spite of that but im also like, medicated for it and the like so self-care was a factor. i couldnt create shit while i was too busy lying in a pool of my own filth having fits of paranoia about the nature of reality so i was hardly about to make myself try and create stuff when that wasnt even on my radar. 

i can share some of the things i do to keep myself writing though! like again this isn’t something that’s for sure gonna work for everybody cause everybodys wired differently but i hope some of it helps!

1. daily wordcount - i’ve mentioned this before but i have a daily wordcount that i do for my original fiction. i don’t apply the same standard to fic-writing because that risks making it an arbitrary barrier that puts too many numbers on my internal list. that being said, it’s very small. i make myself do 200 words per day. if that gets me going and writing more than that, awesome. if not, i still got a little bit done. 200 words is small, and it’s not overwhelming to catch up on if i miss a day. no matter how shitty im feeling i try to get in 200 words.

2. routine - since i’m a routine-based person by nature i basically found ways to finagle creative processes into all that. it’s not hard and fast because that kind of rigid structure makes me balk and i’m not that disciplined lol, but it’s usually something like “i have an hour-long lunch break at work and literally nothing else to do during it so i’ll write in that time period” or “i have thirty minutes of sitting by the stove making dinner so i’ll write until it’s ready”

3. momentum - or what my housemate fondly calls “The Juice.” if i have The Juice of inspiration i keep that going for as long as i can. if something’s not working for me i don’t scrap it or toss it right away. if i’m having trouble with a scene i make a note to myself and move on to a different one. example of this from my latest wip, which is part iv of mayhem

i hadnt worked out what was gonna go there and nothing was coming to me easy in the moment so i stuck the note there and kept going. my works are full of this shit. if i can’t think of a name or if there’s a statistic or a character i haven’t worked out yet i don’t wanna break my focus and momentum so i slap a note in the first draft and keep going. at a first draft stage the important thing is getting the words Out so it doesnt matter if theyre perfect. ill go back and fix them later, revise all i need to. first drafts dont need to be good, they just need to be there so i can spruce them up later.

on the flip side do not be like me and commit to this momentum so bad that you forget that you are a human being who needs to eat and consume liquids. i do that sometimes because of who i am as a person and it is a serious flaw of mine, do not be like this. sometimes getting some food in you is what you need to get The Juice flowing again and that sounds kinda gross and i am sorry

4. planning and hangups - this ones dependent on how you create. i forget where this analogy came from, but i’ve heard it said that some writers are architects who need a blueprint of where they’re going before they end up there and some writers are gardeners, who don’t need a set plan so much as they need to keep going. i’m definitely an architect - a lot of my works start out as bulletpoints of what scenes i wanna cover, what topics i wanna explore, etc. - though i have on occasion simply Written without any set destination, usually to force myself out of a creative slump. me being a big planner used to be one of the biggest barriers for me creatively because i’d spend hours agonizing over minute universe details and never start the dang story. this still happens from time to time. like heres what my organizational folder looks like wrt “pray for disaster”

that is not even all the files in there. why do i have two dictionaries. jesus. like i make these giant ass fuckin....tomes of stuff i like to keep track of, which i like to call “bibles” lol. except i could tell that getting too organized was gonna be an uphill battle with very little payoff so by the end i just made a “MISCELLANEOUS BULLSHIT” doc and for now i throw everything in there if it doesn’t fit into something like a dictionary or timeline

shit like this is why i like to just sit down and write without a clear destination in mind if i’m having writer’s block. that’s one of those things that goes hand in hand with the way i take advantage of my own momentum - if i reach a certain point where i’m just picking at details and not doing any writing i just go “ok motherfucker sit down and write shit. we will work out the details later.”

5. motivation - the ways i tend to motivate myself are weird so idk how true this is for anybody else but i’ve been writing for a pretty large part of my life. i went to college for english/creative writing and got a whole dang degree cause i still wanna make this my vocation somehow. one thing i cannot ever turn off is the writer part of my brain that’s going “oooh huh that’s not how i would’ve written that” in literally every piece of art i consume - tv, movies, books, songs, etc. sometimes that’s enough to inspire me into doing something on my own time. most of the time though if i’m feeling stumped i tend to crack open some of my personal favorite works, like books or fics that have really resonated with me, to fall in love with the art all over again. seeing the way different authors and artists do their craft helps me get in the zone of wanting to write more cause i get this nice feeling of “damn, these people really did those things with those words.....that’s fuckin amazing.....i wanna do that.” 

you do risk falling into the trap of “ugh i can’t write like them though” but that’s the beauty of writing. nobody can write the way anybody else does. ofc i can’t write like terry pratchett, only terry pratchett can write like terry pratchett, and if i compare myself to terry pratchett i’m only gonna get sad and mopey. but i can write in a way thats totally unique to me so i should not try to write like terry pratchett because that’s just impeding my own creative energy in the interest of trying to cookie-cut myself into someone else’s zone. only terry pratchett can write like terry pratchett but only i can write like zero graffitibible.

i hope that was helpful? like this is all stuff that works for me so no guarantee it’ll work for everyone else.

oh right and idk how many of yall are minors because let it be known that i do not condone underage drinking; i am an adult who occasionally will get crunk because i like to write drunk and edit sober. if you too are an adult who can legally consume alcohol feel free to write while buzzed because that is a nice way to write with zero fuckin inhibitions. i dont get blackout drunk or nothing just a little buzzed and sometimes what i write makes no sense but i am at times at my most productive at 2am while mildly buzzed. its a thing.

like again i’m not really an authority on this by any means - this is just what works for me. but if it works for you too, great!! find your zone and all that

#anon #ask #z speaks #alcohol mention cw in case anybodys got that blacklisted #theres nothing as liberating as writing after having consumed 1.5 beers and feeling like a gOD #i say 1.5 but realistically its more like 1 #i am a tiny person who cannot hold their liquor #and beer really is just mulled fartweed but thats all right #creating is pain and pain is living and sometimes that entails drinking mulled fartweed cause itll loosen you up enough to really Write #i dont lean on this too much btw #its just like if i happen to get buzzed ill usually go 'you know what i should totally do. write.' #it is at times incomprehensible

[enchantingexile]

Brothers Best Friend - c.b

Request: being brennen's sister and he's always teasing you, like saying that you have a crush on Colby while he's vlogging and while Colby's over and things like that, kinda like he did with Jessica in his video where he and Colby re-create their vines, and maybe one day Colby talks to you about that, or you can make the end as you think goes better with the story you come up with

Pairing: Colby Brock x Reader

Masterlist

— — — —

You had been sitting on the couch on your phone when you saw a tweet Colby had posted talking about how he was now a fifth wheel and because you had your notifications on for him you had immediately seen it. The laughter came out in a short burst and Brennen being the nosy bitch he is, was sitting near you leaned over quickly to see what you were laughing at.

“Ooh.. y/n and Colby sitting in a tree. K. I. S. S. Ing” He sang to you.

“Shut up moron, you’re more in love with him than I am” You retort quickly, hoping he would shut up about it.

“But even if im more in love with him that still means you’re in love with him, see that guys.” He speaks to the camera now “y/n just admitted she’s in love with Colby” You roll your eyes in annoyance, continuing to look at your phone before you speak again.

“You know damn well I didnt mean it like that” You say as you push him with your foot. “You’re a friggen idiot, now get your ugly bitchass out my face” He just laughs at you and points the camera your way to annoy you further. Once he is over annoying you he walks off to his room probably to go and tell Colby what he has just said and even though you could hear him gossiping about you to Colby you didn’t care very much because you knew how Colby felt towards you.

To him you were his best friends little sister, you knew him and his moral stand point. He would never try and go after his best friends sister.

“Y/N!” You heard Brennen call from another room in the house, “Y/N!” He continued, waiting for you to answer so he knew where you were in the house.

“What Brennen, geez” You reply, grunting as you get off the couch annoyed that he would even make you get up.

“Oh nothing, I just wanted you to know your boyfriend is coming over” You look at him like he has lost his mind.

“I don’t have a boyfriend and you know it, I’m literally always complaining about it” You tried to remind him just how single you were but all you got was an eyeroll in return.

“You know I’m talking about Colby”

“Oh, you meant your boyfriend” You laughed at him and walked away into your room hoping you wouldn’t actually have to see Colby when he arrived.

But not long after you heard the front door open and close with a loud bang and you knew it was Colby, he was never subtle or quiet when he came over. Wanting everyone to know that he is there.

“Honey I’m home” Colby yelled through the house.

“In the kitchen sweetie” You heard your older brother yell back in response, you laughed from your room. Colby had heard your giggle and made a b-line to your room.

“Hey y/n, didn’t realise you were going to be here.”

“Mhm, sure” You rolled your eyes at him and continue to look at the device in your hand “where else would I be Cole?” You replied as sarcastic as you could without coming off as a bitch.

You knew that he knew you were going to be home today because you had heard Brennen tell him over the phone, you were guessing that he looked this good because they were going to be filming a video but the thought of him dressing up for you had crossed your mind. You walk up to the door and lean on the door frame with a smile.

“Love the hair, Brock” you tell him as you run your hand through it and mess it up before pushing his head back to move him out of the way so you could close your door and continue with what you had been previously doing.

You heard him walk into the kitchen and greet your brother with a hard slap on the back.

“Your sisters lookin hot today” You heard Colby chuckle after his comment right before Brennen’s reply.

“Ew, dont be fuckin gross dude. Thats my sister you perv.” Brennen reacted the exact way you would have expected him to but you had never expected for Colby to say something like that to your brother, knowing you were just a wall away.

— — —

You had decided to take a nap while the boys filmed their video so that you didnt disturb them and also because you could feel your body becoming sluggish due to lack of sleep you had been getting.

You had just woken up and checked your social media before you heard a knock at your door. You got up to see who it was and it was the beautiful blue eyed, blue haired boy you had been crushing on.

“Hey”

“Hi?” You asked curiously, just now rubbing the sleep from your eyes and letting out a soft yawn. You could see Colby smiling at you even through sleep coated eyes.

“I was wondering if you you wanted to go out to dinner?” He asked as he scratched his neck, a nervous habit you had grown fond of.

“Uh yeah sure! Where’s Brennen at?” You smiled at him and looked around him to see where your brother was.

“Ooh, uhm he is editing. I was hoping maybe it could just be the two of us?”

“Uhm yeah... sure” You were a little bit suspicious about his sudden request to go to dinner alone with you. “Let me get dressed and we can go?”

“Yeah, okay” He walked off in the direction that was Brennen’s room, you hoped that he already knew about this because you didnt want to be coming home to Brennen being a jerk towards you so you texted to see if he was fine with you going to dinner with Colby and he just responded with a thumbs up emoji. I mean, thats as good as its going to get right?

With the okay being sent through, you get dressed to go to dinner with Colby only taking a few minutes not wanting to put too much pressure on this. Whatever this was. You walk to Brennen’s room and inform Colby that you are ready to eat and he gets up and youse both say goodbye to Brennen, as you walk away you can see a smirk forming on your brothers face.

“Alright, where to?” Colby asks you as he holds the door open for you to walk through.

“Tendergreens, right?”

“You know my favourite restaurant?” He asks you with a smile, a red tinge creeping onto his cheeks.

“I know a lot more about you than I probably should, thanks to Brennen”

“Maybe Brennen has been trying to set us up this whole time” Colby says and youse both laugh but then realise that exactly what he has been trying to do, remembering how he reacted when you and Colby were leaving.

“I think thats exactly what he is doing to be honest” You reply before getting into Colby’s car and youse begin your journey to dinner, this is all you had been thinking about since the day you had met Colby. You never thought that the lame senarios you came up with would come to fruition.

“What a weirdo, trying to set up his little sister with his best friend” He jokes, and even though he was joking you were hoping this was going to be an actual date and not just another senarios to daydream about later. You knew that if you didn’t say anything you would be stuck in this weird limbo of ‘what are we’ so you gained as much courage as you could before speaking. You could feel your stomach in your throat before you began speaking, this could either work in your favour or be the worst moment of your life.

“I just wanted to say that even though Brennen is always teasing me for it and I always deny it... I do have a crush on you” You said the last part in a whisper, your voice losing its courage and turning into something pathetic. You didn’t want to see his reaction at all so you sat there staring at the window and even though you could see him smirking at you in the reflection of the window you still didn’t know how to feel about this whole situation. Your heart was racing in your chest and your palms were sweating like crazy.

“You have to know by now that I have a crush on you too” He laughed, another nervous tell of his. You hadnt realised that Colby had the car parked in front of the restaurant already. You didn’t know how to reply but you did know how you felt and the feelings were growing stronger by then second.

“Alright then, lets get some food. Im starving” You laugh at him and get out of the car, following closely behind Colby into the restaurant and taking your seat next to him.

Youse spoke for hours and ate the food, he let you steal from his meal a little bit and you let him take from yours. Youse had never been alone like this before and you didn’t want it to end, it was like a new found freedom that you didnt want to let go. You hoped that Colby felt the same way you did.

— — —

When Colby drops you off you skip straight to Brennen’s room to tell him everything that happened. Joy radiating off of you.

“Thanks for setting us up Brennen, we actually had a really good time” You sat down at the end of his bed.

“Well, Colby said it was terrible. So I don’t know who to believe.” He said to you as you had just finished gloating and your heart could have fallen out of your chest in this moment.

“Oh” Heartbreak was written all over your face and he could tell, there was a tear pricking the inner corner of your eye but you didn’t let it out.

“I was kidding, damn dude. Calm down.” He said and kicked you off his bed, a loud thud being heard from your ass hitting the floor at high speed.

“You’re a friggen asshole, you know” You tell him as you pick yourself up off the floor and walk away.

“He had a really good time, wont stop gushing about it. I’m probably gonna vomit its so gross” He showed you a few text messages he had recieved from Colby, there were plenty of heart eye emojis.

“Okay, I get it. But I shouldn’t be looking at these messages, its an envasion of privacy” You tell him as you leave the room, taking one last look at the phone before leaving.

She looked so gorgeous and she wasn’t even trying

The last text message you saw had read, you felt all giddy and you didn’t know what to do. But you knew you wanted to be around Colby all the time.

— — — —

If you liked this a nice comment is always appreciated

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #sam and colby #colby brock imagine #brennen taylor

[eryiss]

Chapter Nine - Training

Summary: Laxus Dreyar, prince of Fiore, has been trapped in the town of Magnolia for months by order of his grandfather. After a failed attempt at leaving ends up with the prince injured, his grandfather punishes him by adding a new guard to his retainer team. An arrogant, up-tight, overly confident, handsome bastard named Freed Justine. [Fraxus | Fantasy AU]

Hi all. I'm so sorry this took so long. I think i just needed some time away from the fic so I could write it well. I hope the wait was worth it. Also, the final chapter should be coming tomorrow. I've written, just need to edit it now. No warnings this chapter, just fluff.

You can read this on FanFiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. You can find the chapter list here. Hope you enjoy it ^.^

Chapter Nine – Training

"Again!" Laxus yelled.

He stood with his arms crossed, looking across the baron grass plane with a serious expression painted across his features. Standing across from his was Freed, bare chested and sweating. He was resting his hands on his knees in a pseudo-crouching position, breathing in and out heavily as he glared daggers into the ground.

"Come on," Laxus continued. "This ain't gonna work if we stop now."

The two men were outside of a small cabin owned by the royal family, a vacation home of sorts. It was secluded, only known of by a few people in the kingdom, and was perfect for what Laxus had planned.

Freed was learning to control his magic. After leaning his retainer had magical abilities over a week ago, it had been plaguing the prince's mind almost constantly. The most obtrusive thought was that Freed was ashamed of his magic. The very same Freed who exuded confidence in himself and unrelenting pride, was ashamed of something. Something that he couldn't help, no less, and something that was as much a part of him as anything else. It didn't sit right with Laxus.

So he had approached the man and explained as bluntly as he could that thinking of his magic in that way was fucking ridiculous. Just because people thought his magic was evil, it didn't mean it was. What he did with the magic decided if it was evil or not.

Freed had then confessed he was also ashamed he couldn't control it. He could change that by learning.

After Freed had agreed that learning his magic was the best course of actions, the prince had spoken to his grandfather and requested a week in isolation. The old man had put up no objections, probably assuming that Laxus needed time to come to terms with what had happened in the festival. It was far from the truth; the fact he would soon be king was something Laxus had consciously pushed to the back of his mind. Helping Freed with his magic was acting as a pretty good distraction as well.

"I know," Freed panted, standing upright.

The retainer raised his arm into the air, closing his eyes. He began muttering under his breath, and although Laxus couldn't hear him, he knew what he was doing. His emotions and his magic were linked in some way, and Freed was trying to overwork his emotions so that his magic would more easily start to form.

From where he stood, Laxus could see wisps of black smoke starting to form around Freed's raised arm. The grass started to shiver as if a large wind rushed through it, crashing to the retainer as if propelled towards him.

The sight was incredibly impressive.

The smoke around Freed's arm started to get thicker and thicker, becoming more of an inky fog that surrounded him. Despite the distance, Laxus could see that the shadow was starting to climb inside of Freed, crawling up his arm in thick black lines resembling veins. Freed had confessed that the process was painful, and the pain he was in was clear with how tense his body was. Every muscle was flexed, his free hand was clenched beside him, and his face a scowl that was unmoving and straining.

Laxus was fucking proud of him.

As the fog got thicker, and the wind got stronger, Laxus could start to sense magic forming around him. He kept his eyes trained on Freed, both so he could get a better understanding of how the magic worked as well as being prepared to intervene if anything went wrong.

The fog began to pulse with purple lights, and Laxus could see the vague mutation of the man's hand from under it. It had been disturbing to watch originally, but after days of the same, Laxus had become almost desensitised to what happened to the retainer. The black veins grew larger and thicker, extending their reach to across Freed's torso and perhaps his whole body. The extended hand started to warp faster, and Freed's mouth split open with a roar.

A moment later the fog dissipated, and a claw had replaced Freed's hand.

It reached above Freed's elbow, scales melding into skin as the retainer tried to catch his breath. Laxus didn't say anything, didn't move in fear that he might distract Freed and therefore interrupt the spell he was casting.

But this was good. Although he was clearly exhausted, this was the most stable Freed had been while attempting to transform himself. The first few attempts had been unsuccessful. The next had flickered out before Freed could do anything useful with it. the most recent had stayed for longer, but reduced Freed's mobility with the arm. But as Freed flexed the unfamiliar limb, and stretched out his fingers, he seemed to be in full control of it.

This was as close as they had gotten this far. Laxus had to trust Freed knew what to do next.

The knight was still muttering under his breath, and Laxus didn't know if it was to keep his emotions high or to act as a distraction from the pain he was in. It was tempting to step in, but when he saw flickers of black energy forming between the claws, Laxus stood where he was. Freed needed to do this himself.

There was a moment of silence, the calm at the eye of a hurricane.

A moment later, an ear shattering scream left the retainers mouth. It sounded distorted, as if underwater and ripped apart, and Laxus could only watch as Freed lowered his hand from the air and pushed it out in front of him. The energy built around his claw manically and seemed to make Freed's arm shake uncontrollably.

Then, without warning, a pulsating stream of pure darkness shot out from his hand. It knocked the man back, shooting his arm to the left and taking the beam with it. The attack only lasted a few seconds, and Freed's shouts died a moment later. He collapsed onto his knees, panting again.

Laxus ran towards him, looking to the side where the beam of energy had been directed. It had hit the edge of a forest, and the power had been incredibly destructive. Many of the nearest trees had been destroyed outright, and others that were further back had large dents in them or had fallen over by the force of the attack. All that damage had come from a spell that had barely lasted five seconds. This further proved just how strong Freed was.

"You okay?" Laxus asked as he got closer, and Freed looked up.

"Fine," The man replied, breath haggard. "Exhausted, but the pain is dying quickly. Help me up."

Laxus offered the man a hand, which was quickly taken. Freed was unstable on his feet, and Laxus quickly wrapped him in his arms, unbothered by the sweat drenching the retainer now spreading to Laxus' own clothes. The entire training process has been draining on Freed, and Laxus had quickly realised what Freed needed when he was like this. Silence, no judgment, and comfort.

They stood in the plane, arms wrapped around one another, Laxus stroking Freed's hair.

It was something that had happened a few times over the last few days, and it had always made Laxus think. As Freed had suggested, they hadnt chosen to define what exactly their relationship was, and instead focused on how they felt in the moment. Acting out of impulse, they had veered more and more to romantic actions. Kisses had occurred, ranging from the chaste to the passionate. The way they addressed each other in private had changed, as if the status difference no longer existed. The first night of being away, they had made love to one another. It had been slow, sensual, and infinitely better than when they first acted out of carnal lust months prior.

All of it had been perfect.

As he stood with Freed in his arms, Laxus thought about their decision to not define what they were. At the time it made sense, and it had worked out for them both, but Laxus adored the feeling of being intimate with Freed. It filled him with a warmth he couldn't define. Like every aspect of his life was being supported and protected by an unwavering force.

He wanted to define it; he had decided. He didn't want Freed to just be his guard and protector, he also wanted the man to be his lover. No, his partner. He wanted to share his life with Freed, to love him and be loved back.

It was a want that Laxus hadnt experienced in his life before. But he didn't mind it.

"That was fuckin'…" Laxus couldn't think of a word. Amazing, incredible, powerful. They all seemed to fall short. "You are so fucking strong, you know that?"

"I can barely stand," Freed chuckled.

"Your body ain't used to it yet. But you'll get there, and you'll be unstoppable," Laxus assured him. "I think you've done enough for the day. Unless you'd rather keep going."

"No, if I do any more I'll tire myself out and tomorrow will be a waste," Freed said, still catching his breath.

"Fair," Laxus nodded. "You need to get the rest out of your system?"

Freed had confessed to Laxus that, when he used magic, is entered his system in an unusual way. Power seemed to fester inside of him after using any powerful spells, and Freed had compared it to being on an energy high when you're trying to fall asleep. The prince couldn't exactly understand what that would feel like but understood that Freed found it incredibly uncomfortable and that was all he needed to know.

The process of removing the residual magic was simple enough, so Freed stated. He needed to put the magic to use without gathering any more energy. His rune spells, which he had greater control over, were relatively easy to perform. After practicing a more intense spell, Freed would spend time making runes in quick succession until his magic ran dry.

"I think so," Freed pushed his head off Laxus' chest. "You can go back inside. It won't take long."

"You sure?" Laxus asked, somewhat concerned. "I don't mind."

"I'll be fine," Freed gave a small smile.

Taking the man's word for it, Laxus carefully unwrapped himself from Freed. He seemed to have recovered enough so that he could stand without swaying slightly, and that inspired confidence in Laxus. He pressed his lips into Freed's hair.

"If you need help, just call," He instructed, and Freed laughed lightly.

"You needn't be so protective of me, Laxus," He smiled. "But if I need you, I will call for you."

"You better," Laxus grinned. "See you in a little while, yeah."

"Of course, your highness," Freed said, smirking.

The bastard had found another way to call Laxus by his title. He now used it ironically, apparently, as they were obviously more than just a prince and his guard.

"Or maybe just die out here," Laxus retorted, smirking back at him. "I can replace you."

"If you can live that long without me," Freed bit back.

Laxus laughed, pressed his lips onto Freed's head a final time, and started to walk towards the house.

~~~

When he heard the door open, Laxus stood up straight. He flicked some of the water off his hands and stood back from the metal bathtub that he had just filled with steaming water. He left the washroom to see that Freed had entered the cabin, shirt resting over his shoulder, looking just as dishevelled as before; perhaps worse. Laxus smiled at him, unashamed at the lovelorn expression on his face.

"You okay?" He asked. "Took a little while longer than before?"

"I'm fine," Freed assured him. "The spell required more magic, meaning I had more resonating inside me. I just needed to spend more time getting rid of it."

"Okay," Laxus nodded. "I ran you a bath if you want it. You looked pretty beat up, thought it could help."

Freed smiled. "Thank you. That's very kind."

Laxus shrugged, standing to the side as Freed slowly walked towards the washroom. Beat up was an apt description, as it really did look as if the man had been through a vicious fight, minus any actual injuries. Despite this, Freed hadnt once complained about the rigorous schedule that Laxus had made for him, nor the incredible toll that his body had been through. It was fucking incredible; Laxus wasn't sure if he could deal with it as well as Freed was.

The blonde followed Freed into the washroom, entering as the other started to undress. There was no shyness between either man, and Freed removed the rest of his clothes without hesitation. Laxus walked to a cabinet and picked up a wicker basket of toiletries as Freed climbed into the steaming water.

He audibly exhaled, his tightened muscles relaxing in the intense heat. He sat back with his eyes closed, the water covering everything but his face, and Laxus felt his heart swell slightly.

Damn, he had fallen hard.

"It ain't too warm, is it. Or too cold," Laxus asked, placing the basket in Freed's reach. "I can fix it, if it is."

"It's perfect," Freed assured him. "Although, I must admit the idea of a prince doting on me is rather endearing. At the start of the year I wouldn't have believed you were capable of running your own bath."

"Really, with the high expectations you had of me?" Laxus laughed, and Freed smiled. Laxus continued. "Gramps wanted me to be as self-sufficient as possible. And what kind of man can't bathe himself?"

"At the moment, I fear that man is myself," Freed chuckled. "Though I expect that is more out of laziness than actual ability."

Without hesitance, Laxus reached for a wooden bowl and dipped it beneath the surface of the water. Freed watched this with a slight frown on his face, quirking an eyebrow at Laxus, who responded by jutting his chin towards Freed's head. The knight seemed to understand what this meant and pushed himself off the back of the bathtub. Still without saying anything, Laxus began to slowly poor the warm water over Freed's scalp, wetting his hair. Freed's hair was a point of vanity, and washing it was the least Laxus could do.

After a few turns of pouring water over Freed's hair, he reached for the product that Freed tended to use. He lathered it onto his hands before slowly starting to massage the man's hair. It was a nice feeling, and Freed seemed to relax into it.

"I've been thinking," Laxus began, speaking somewhat tentatively. "About us, actually."

"Hm," Freed prodded after a moment, eyes opening but posture unmoving. Laxus continued to massage his head.

"And well, I get that where we're at is good. Great even. And it's not like I wanna fuck it up or anything, because I really love what's happening between us," Laxus began, and immediately wished he had thought this through. "But I think maybe we should…"

"Talk about it?" Freed concluded, and Laxus nodded. "I'd like that."

"Okay, great," Laxus nodded, feeling a little confident now. "So, I guess being forward makes sense, I want more than just this. I wanna make it serious. I don't exactly know how we'd do that. Maybe we'd court each other, maybe we could just decide to be in a relationship. I don't know how this works, kind of new to me."

He shouldn't have said that. it probably isn't good to mention how inexperienced in a relationship you are when you're trying to start one with someone.

"Well, I must admit that the idea of you courting me is rather delightful sounding," Freed laughed, and Laxus smiled at the reaction. "But relationships haven't been a big part of my life either, so I can't exactly be the voice of experience."

That shocked Laxus. Freed was a handsome man and didn't have the same social restrictions he had.

"But even if I had, I don't think it would have been applicable. Considering who we both are, both to each other and to the greater public," Freed sounded contemplative. "But we both want to be in a relationship, correct?"

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, starting to lather the lengths of Freed's hair. "That's what I want."

"Well, we should date then," Freed said simply.

"You say that like it's easy," Laxus laughed a little. The confidence in Freed's voice had been assuring, though.

"No, it probably won't be easy. We'll probably have to keep it a secret for some time, which will be difficult," Freed said, and Laxus nodded a little. "But I can imagine we've both been faced with more difficult tasks in the past."

"True. I had to deal with you," Laxus laughed. "You sure you wanna do this. I'm not sure what the politics of dating a prince are, let along a guy dating a prince."

"Politics has yet to stop me so far," Freed shrugged. "Although, if we are to date, there is something I need you to do."

"Sure?" Laxus questioned.

"You need to come to terms with the fact you're going to be king," Freed turned his head, Laxus releasing his hair as the man looked at him with sincerity. "While I can't imagine what it feels like, I expect it is incredibly intimidating, but you need to think about it. And discuss it. Because if you don't, all of this is going to come back to you eventually, and it'll most likely happen on the day you become king. And I expect you'll have enough on your plate that day as it is."

Laxus sighed. Freed was right, of course. He had allowed himself to push all his insecurities to the back of his mind while helping Freed. It wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do, but every time he thought about his upcoming responsibilities, panic and dread ran through him.

"We don't need to talk about it now," Freed continued, "Or with me, if you don't want to. But the more you discuss it, the more you plan out what you're going to do and think about it now, the less stress you'll be under when it's actually happening."

Laxus was silent for a moment.

"I know," He eventually mumbled. "And Gramps said he's gonna help me however he can. So it's not like I'll be on my own or anything. It's just a fucking daunting thing to think about."

"I imagine so," Freed said, resting a hand on Laxus'. "But you will be brilliant."

Laxus didn't say anything, just rested his forehead against Freed's. They stayed like this for a moment, and the prince felt himself grow a little more confident in himself. If Freed thought he could be a good king, then perhaps he could. His retainer seemed to be a good judge of character if nothing else. Perhaps that was why he had brought it up, to give Laxus confidence in himself.

"You're a smart man, Freed Justine," Laxus commented with a fond smile.

"As are you, and the world will soon know it," Freed smiled, before grinning. "And I imagine you'll look damn sexy in a crown."

"Fucks sake," Laxus laughed. He was glad Freed had broken the ice, even if he did so ridiculously.

"In fairness to myself, I avoided any double entendres about inspecing your crown jewels. So I still have class."

"Sure you do," Laxus grinned playfully, tilting Freed's head up and kissing him again.

This was good. This was what he needed. He could do anything if he had this to fall back on.

Perhaps it was naive, but at that moment, he felt like everything might end up okay.

#fraxus #freed justine #Laxus Dreyar #freed x laxus #fanfic #fairy tail #writing

[poepill]

askmeme

@cybzilla hello n thnk u for the ask cyb !!💕💕💕

also idk what i did but tumblr ate up half of my responses so i had to retype and make it in a separate post bc it wouldn’t let me edit the first oops, but !! here it is !! srry it took a while, putting it in a readmore since it got a bit long

Be- Have you changed much as a person in the last year?

mm i like to think so. in the small ways, there are little habits i hav now that i didnt then. like drinking peach tea every morning and waking up at 6 am every day. just the idea of peach tea gets me out of bed in the morning, which i gotta do if i want to get my bby bro to school so they count to me!! and then there’s bigger ways, like how a year ago i was living on my own & moving back home has been a shift to my priorities and hav taken on more responsibilities. hopefully the changes to come will be for the better too

In the Woods Somewhere- Have you ever had a supernatural experience?

ohhhhh i gotta think. it'sbeen a while, and most stories i know happened to other ppl….mm ok this got a bit long and not as spooky, but the first supernatural thing i can rlly remember happened at my cousins house when we were like 10? 11?? we would do our own ghost investigations (thank u zak bagans ghost adventure) which their mom HATED, but the five of us would sit in their bedroom in Complete darkness in different corners of the room, digital cameras rolling, asking questions & just waiting, Hoping for a voice, a touch, Something to happen…i mean we watched ghost adventures we were practically EXPERTS (buzzfeed unsolved who ?????) also this always done at their house bc that place was Haunted haunted. it was mostly my grandparents who experienced it, from seeing figures and touching and hearing voices, but theyre mexican Mexican™️ so they were p chill w it all lmao especially after the ghosts helped my grandpa from falling off the bed (another story).

anyway we wouldnt get much in our investigations tbh, plus 5-10 yr old kids sitting in a totally dark room in tense silence??? oh we were TERRIFIED, but we had to find proof no matter the cost!! (aka until their mom found out & made us stop). we would get small things like balls of light something that sounded like voices, mayyybe some shadows, yet the most memorable time of the whole thing was once when we left the camera on while we went to eat, and when came back to check the camera was dead. after it charged it we watched it, and within the first 10 min we saw a ball of light (thank u again mr bagans) leave the baseball we’ve been tryin to convince the ghost to move, zoom right towards the closet, and then a few seconds later there was a creaking sound, and we realized that the closet doors were sliding themselves shut…and those things were HEAVY, u needed two hands to do close them, and hav definitely never moved by themselves before. then a few minutes later we noticed a pencil on the desk slowlyyy, slowly roll right off (which was not as big but still exciting esp when we tried to recreate it and it wouldnt roll no matter where we put it). we watched it over and over, and while not too intense as other supernatural things that hav happened to us we were ECSTATIC (& scared as hell esp my cousin who didnt want to sleep in their house anymore after that oopslkfkfjdjd). we had proof!! gosh i wish i could find the video,,but it had mysteriously disappeared a week later....altho that might hav just been one of our parents lol.

our “ghost investigations” were TERRIFYING ngl but genuinely fun and, in hindsight, Maybe we Hadnt caught a ghost or supernatural presence, mayb it had been a few kids w a camera scaring themselves in a dark room, but,,,mayb,,just maybe,,,,*clenches fist* there Had been Something in that room,,,  

either way there have definitely been more credible occurrences since then but that’s for another time @ryan bergara hmu for ur next bfu my dms r Open  

Nobody- Who in your life is important to you?

list of ppl important to me aka “ppl I’d die for”: my friends, who promised to watch sonic w me so u KNO this is for life 😔💕; my bby bro, who kindly peerpressured me into buying the quark shirt im wearing rn

and.a lil cheesy but. myself too ✌💕

#ahh these r fun thank u again !!💕💕💕 #personal #anyway living in mexico you're for Sure going to experience something supernatural my grandma has some of the wildest stories #but what is life w out a demon or two ?

[wheresmaldo865]

ShinsoXReader Valentine Day Special Featuring Song Dead Girl walking from the Heathers

 Happy Valentines day! I got this idea in my head and decided to type this up. I originally wanted to do it for Bokugo but wanted to extend my characters palette... since my inbox is always empty :(

But any way, full steam ahead! I didn’t really get the chance to do detailed editing so please forgive me if theres any errors. Also the song is a little out of order so that some things make more sense.

Also, someone please tell me how to properly spell this kids name. I seen it boths ways with and without a u 😭

There a little doodle of Shinsou at the end 😉

Warning: Vanilla smut (Nothing detailed)

Word Count: 1752

‘The Demon queen of high school has decreed it, she says Monday, 8am I will be deleted. They’ll hunt me down in study hall. Stuff and mount me on the wall. Thirty hours to live, how shall I spend them?’

            Standing there in a ghostly empty party room was the worst nightmare anyone could have imagined. A ruptured friendship. Three ugly sisters with more power then they deserved. Yet, she forgot.

           She had put herself into this whole mess. She had wanted to be part of the ugly sister comment. The bitter sweet sensation had brought her satisfaction and acceptance between her other peers.

Now it was… only bitter.

Because (Y/n) had even had the audacity to stand against them. They made it a public statement to make her live a living hell. As if the room hadn’t already been hot before.

Her palms were sweaty from the wild night she had. Her school uniform stuck to her cold skin a bit to tightly. (Y/n) collar seemed to squeeze tighter, and tighter as the night went on.

I don’t have to stay and die like cattle. I could change my name and ride up to Seattle. But I don’t own a motorbike.

           (Y/n) contemplated the endless options she could muster. Running away to the next town… or a town across the seas. Her parents didn’t need to know. No one needed to know anything. However, the more she thought upon one idea. The more ridiculous it ended up sounding. Even in her own head.

           So, she continued on her way home. The summer night was overwhelmingly stuffy. Large beads of sweat formed on her forehead and rolled down her red cheeks. Right about now she wished for nothing more than a cold shower to run down her spine.  

                       Y/n) spotted a window spilling light onto the side walk. Her eyes followed the beam of light to a room seated on a two-story building. She could a shadow of a figure walk by. Long spoffy hair poking out from all angles of his head. (Y/n) chuckled to herself.

           She knew who the lavender purple hair belonged to.

There was suddenly an interrupting thought that came into her mind. Something devious, something… naughty. The liquor in her blood burned and set her body a flame. Desire hit her with a bus, especially in the lower area. The more she played with the idea. The wetter she became.

           Wait, here an option that I like. Spend these thirty hours getting freaky!

Yeah!

           I need it hard. I’m a dead girl walking!

 (Y/n) marched her pretty little face right up to the door of Shinsou’s house. The blood in her veins mixed with the alcohol pumped excitedly. She was feeling too good to turn back. There was no hesitation in her hands as she lifted it to ring the doorbell twice.

           She waited patiently for the door to open.

I’m in your yeard. I’m a dead girling walking. Before they punch my clock. I’m snapping off your window lock. Got no time to knock. I’m a dead girl walking…

           The door finally opened. She was greated by the man himself, Hitoshi Shinsou. Someone she saw frequently in her life and had… affections toward. One could say the feelings were returned. There was only one way to find out now.

           “(Y/n)? What’re you doing in my house?”

She smiled innocently. She took her pointer finger and pressed it gently onto Shinsou lips. She found it amusing the way his eyes went wide. A blush slowly creeping its way onto his face.

           “Shhhh.”

Once Shinsou had finally regained his courage, he took her by the hand and led her inside. To him it was evident she wasn’t all put together, as she usually was. Before she could say anything more, he sat her up in his room. Giving her some water and medicine to replace the hangover pain she may have in the morning.

           “Better?” He asked with a soft smile.

She nodded. Though the courage in her heart did not disappeared with the buzz. (Y/n) scooted her body closer to his. Their shoulders, legs, and arms bumping in several places. The blushed rushed back to his, but he didn’t move away from her.  Her perfume flooded his senses. Rooting him in his place.

           Sorry, but I really had to wake you. See, I decided I must ride you ‘til I break you.

The blush on Shinsou’s cheeks traveled evenly to the rest of his face. He was completely blown away by the words that had just come out of his dear friends’ mouth.

           Of course, he adored his friend. He would risk life and limb for the women before him. On the other hand, this hadn’t been the way he had planned to confess to such a lovely girl.

           She was rubbing up against him in a way he almost couldn’t say no. Shinsou gently grabbed her by the shoulders and forced himself to pause for a moment. He had to be sincere now. For her sake.

           “Wait, wait! What has gotten into you?”

‘Cause Heather says I gots to go. You’re my last meal on death row. Shut your mouth and lose them tighty whiteys”

           (Y/n) turned the table on him. She wiggled her way around him. Pinning him underneath her on his bed. There was her scent again, intoxicating his mind. The way she moved to sit upon his waist did the unimaginable to him. He was beginning to feel tight in the jeans he wore.

           He shot up again. As much as Shinsou wanted this. The desire for her consent grew bigger than anything poking in his pants. He would hate himself for several eternities if she regretted this in the end.

           “Wait.” The word fell firmly to (Y/n) ears. Her giggles became put aside. She starred wide eyes and locked eyes with Shinsou Listening attentively to what he had to say to her.

           Shinsou’s eyes closed for a moment. He simply let himself be present in her presence. Allowing him to short his desires and feelings.

           “I…” He started but couldn’t finished until another second passed. “I have cherished you… for what seems like forever now. Watching you become such a powerful hero and wonderful friend. I would do anything to protect you from any harm. Even if that means it’s from myself. So, I have to know. You have to be certain.”

           Shinsou toned shifted from his love filled admiration to an urgent one. What he said next was a serious matter to him.

           “You have to be certain this is what you want. With me. A life and a future with someone like me. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

           Shinsou’s room became painfully silent for a few moments. (Y/n) eyes traveled to his chest. Perhaps trying to dissect his rapidly beat heart for sincerity. When she came back to meet his gaze… Shinsou had a feeling she had her answer.

           A soft smile graced her lips. Her face was so close to his he could taste the drink she had on his tongue.

           And you know, you know, you know. Its cause you’re beautiful. You say you’re numb inside, but I can’t agree. So the worlds unfair. Keep it locked out there. In Here it’s beautiful. Let’s make this beautiful!”

            Her lips were on his in an instant. Her hands slide across his chest and up to his neck. Losing themselves in his wild hair. It took him a moment to register what was finally happening. Once he knew, boy. Did he respond. His arms found their way around (Y/n) waist and brought her closer to him. It didn’t take long before the grinding became heated. Kisses became hastily sloppy. Hands were slipping into places never touched by anyone else.

           One by one, clothes were beginning to come off.

 Tonight, I’m yours. I’m your dead girl walking! Get on all fours! Kiss this dead girl walking. Let’s, go you know the drill. I’m hot and pissed and on the pill. Bow down to the will- Of a dead girl walking!

            Shinsou had (Y/n) pinned down to his bed. His pillowed framing her face perfect, though her hair was already becoming a mess. The face she was giving him still droves his desire. He wanted you immediately. It was only a matter of time before Shinsou had his thumb hooked on the pants and panties (Y/n) had chosen to wear. Sliding them off her smooth (S/c) legs. The new cool air rubbing against her sex produced a whimper from her throat. Shinsou chuckled lighty at the reaction.

           He then removed his own shirt. Moving to then remove hers. He plucked the buttons one by one. The bra she wore was gone in a second. Revealing her total naked body to him. A sculpture he could marvel in for hours if he was given the time.

           Full steam ahead. Take this dead girl walking! Lets break the bed. Rock this dead girl walking. No sleep tonight for you. Better chug that Mountain Dew! Get your ass in gear. Make this whole town disappear.

                      (Y/n) rose up from her place. Starling Shinsou slightly. He let out a small yelp when he found himself on his back again. His face turned red again when (Y/n) undid the buckle of his pants and ran them down impatiently. As if he would run away when the clock struck 12.

           Her mouth found his member way too quickly for Shinsou to take. A loud groan caught him off guard as her wet lips wrapped around him. Her tongue swirling in all the right spots. Another growl ripped through his teeth when the full length of him hit the back of her throat. Combined with rhythmic pumping of her mouth and hand was almost too much for him. Shinsou had to protest for a stop before he would be completely spent.

           Sitting up and looking into (Y/n). He couldn’t be filled with anymore lust before her burst. It only took another minute for (Y/n) to lay on her back. Shinsou nestling himself between her legs. Teasing her wet entrance.

           A single push at the hip was all it took for him to be completely inside her.

  The rest of the night Shinsou and (Y/n) spent their new-found time tangled in each other. Pleasure and it each touch filled with loving passion. They shared every moment they could. Hot breathes, moans and kisses coming from their lips.

#my hero academia #shinso hitoshi #shinsō hitoshi #shinsou x reader #mha shinsou #bnha shinsou

[sulevinblade]

(Talesfromthefade) things you said when you were drunk, for the DWC?

OH MY GOD this was a little idea that got away from me in a big big way but I’m still pretty happy with it. For this and for “cafune - the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love,” from @contreparry! For @dadrunkwriting!!

Alistair/Leohta Aeducan, T for language, dumb suggestive jokes, and alcohol use, 4k+ words (awaaaay from me, I wish I had time to edit it but uh I spent the entire time writing it instead). 

On the cusp of the party’s visit to Orzammar, Alistair learns what kind of drunk Leohta can be, and shares a little lesson of his own. Light angst, serious fluff.

He finds her standing on the rocky beach, well away from the dim glow provided by the Spoiled Princess’s small windows. It takes a moment for Alistair’s eyes to adjust to the complete dark–the night watch Templar doused all the torches at the dock, as clear an indication as anything that no one else would cross Lake Calenhad tonight–but even if he’d had to follow her blind he could’ve found her by the sound.

Bloop.

Normally finding Leohta by sound means the clank or grind of armour, the grunts or barks of Leon, or even her rare laughter at something Zevran said (it was always Zevran making her laugh), but tonight the sound is completely unfamiliar. It’s still enough to guide him, though.

Bloop.

Last he’d seen her, she was swapping some of the coin they’d made selling things to the Templar quartermaster for three large bottles of deep pink liquid. It seemed a bit of a racket to Alistair, that they should collect the mages’ items as they cleared the Tower only to sell them to the Templars who would then in turn sell them back to the Mages, but surely if that wasn’t how the economy of the Circle usually worked, Wynne would’ve said something. That was Alistair’s hope, anyway, as he’d watched Leohta count the coins before they left, then again at the tavern’s bar. She’d tossed the bag back to him before collecting the bottles and heading outside, and he in turn had left it with Zevran.

Bloop.

“You have known our illustrious leader the longest among any of us. Has this always been a habit of hers?” Alistair squinted across the table, trying to determine Zevran’s game, but succeeded only in giving up his own. “You think I see this as a weakness I can exploit, but I would think even you would see that if I were going to do so, I would have done it by now and certainly would not draw attention to my plans by involving you.” His eyes only narrowed further–how does Zevran make talking down to him still seem so seductive?–but Alistair did sit back in his chair.

“I haven’t known her all that long, really, but I don’t think so. Why d'you ask?”

“My Antiva makes the finest wines in Thedas, so it is not uncommon to see those there who overindulge, but there are many types. Leohta, she is young and exploring her limits, yes, but she is also trying to drown things she does not want to feel. Her limits are low and the things she seeks to kill are very large. It is a dangerous combination.”

Alistair glanced again toward the door. Of course she hadn’t come back inside, that’d be too much to ask for, but what was he supposed to do?

“If it is too much for you, I will go after her, but she should not be alone.” Both of their chairs scraped back at the same time but Alistair was the first to stand, something that for some reason brought a sad smile to Zevran’s face. Alistair could only look at it for a moment before looking away.  "I know you do not think much of me, Alistair, and while that is entirely your loss, I do know that one thing we have in common is how much we care for her. Go see to her, my friend, before her sorrows are not all she drowns. It is probably for the best; I am not much of a swimmer myself.“

Bloop.

So now here he is, approaching carefully, pretending to be taking in the constellations while Leohta hurls rocks at the water like she’s trying to knock the waves down before they can reach the shore. The night is perfectly clear; Kinloch Hold is merely a dark space in the sky where the stars are missing, but everything else is black sky and white twinkles. He clears his throat in case she somehow hasn’t noticed since he doesn’t fancy getting one of those stones thrown at him, but she only pauses for a moment before bending to search the area around her feet for another suitable candidate. One bottle is already empty, stuffed mouth down among the pebbles and into the sand underneath them, and as Alistair finishes closing the distance Leohta gives up her search and instead tips to land on her backside, legs out in front of her and a second bottle in her hand. He knows they’re not small but her stature makes them seem even larger; it makes the sight of her lifting one to her lips almost comical but the effect is spoiled by how long it stays there. Maker’s breath, Zevran was right when he talked about drowning.

"You planning on coming up for air any time soon?”

There’s a pop as she breaks the vacuum she’s created, then a dry laugh. She still isn’t looking at him. It makes his chest hurt, how badly he wants her to turn her head. “Breathe through your nose and you can use your mouth for whatever you want.”

“You’re spending too much time with Zevran, saying things like that.” Sighing, Alistair drops down crosslegged at her side and extends a hand. “What are you even drinking? I’ve never seen anything that color in a tavern before.”

“One of the Templars told me about it. I guess–” there’s a pause and she bunches up her eyebrows, apparently trying to put the pieces back together, “I guess the mother started making it as a tribute to her daughter and now of course it’s all very sad but the owner still makes it as a specialty. Sweet mead made with roses.” She passes over the open bottle, not bothering to wipe the top, and the expression on her face, like she’s sharing a secret, distracts him so much he can’t be bothered either. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was sweet but the roses are strong too, floral and delicate. He passes the bottle back after just one mouthful.

“I’ve never had a mead like that before. It’s very… different.” Leohta seems to accept that answer, nodding before lifting the bottle to her lips again.

“There’s nothing like this in Orzammar. Not even in the palace. Not even to make it. No honey, no roses, and when there is if you said you wanted to make something like this with it, you’d be laughed out of the kitchen.” She holds the bottle in front of her contemplatively, swishing the contents back and forth gently and tilting her head in time with the motion. Alistair’d almost think it was a contented sort of gesture but then she sighs and drops her head back, hair falling over her shoulders as she lifts the bottle skyward. “Nothing like that, either. No stars, no sky. Some of the caverns are so high the ceilings are invisible, but you still know they’re up there.” Slowly, she lowers the bottle but keeps her gaze fixed upward.

“Do you miss that?” It’s not something he’s given a lot of thought to but it’s hard to imagine. Even within the walls of the Chantry there were windows. The sky was always there, or not-there maybe, when compared to a ceiling of stone. Trying to imagine life without it or everything it held–the sun, the moons, the clouds and stars and birds–was virtually impossible, but here was Leohta not just imagining the opposite but living it.

“Dunno. I still don’t understand all this. What keeps it up there?” Her hand waves up at the stars but only briefly; even sitting down she’s unsteady without both hands to support her. “With the stone, you know that even if you can’t see the ceiling, it’s still held there by the stone. Nothing floats, nothing rises or sets.” Watching her profile, he can see the way it hardens as her train of thought jumps the track. “Nothing changes.”

He shifts a little, the pebbles grinding softly underneath him as he leans to try to catch her eye. “You changed.”

This time when she looks over at him, it gives him a chill. The stone she’s been so contemplative about has found a home in her eyes, the set of her mouth. They seem cold and stiff and almost lifeless, soft evening blue turned to lapis lazuli. Still beautiful but hard. “I left, and not by choice. You wouldn’t know how much I’ve changed, Alistair. You have no idea what I was like before we met.”

“I suppose not, but I do know you’ve changed in the time I’ve known you.” He keeps his voice softer now, speaking carefully to avoid that stony shift becoming somehow permanent. He hasn’t seen her look like that since before Ostagar, and to lose all the little ways she’s softened since then would be the greatest waste. “Do you miss that? Or her, I guess. Do you miss who you were before?”

Her laugh is a single humorless sound that moves her entire body, shaking her shoulders and flexing her stomach. “What does that matter? She’s dead. Worse than dead.” There’s venom in her voice but Alistair doesn’t flinch since for once he’s certain it’s not directed at him. He watches as Leohta stands, a wobbly process that involves repeated planting of hands and feet before she can push herself vertical. There’s a powerful temptation to offer her help but the set of her jaw makes him stay his hand, even if whatever effect she might be going for is already ruined by her own unsteadiness. “Nobody mourned her, nobody misses her, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dead. Bhelen killed her as sure as he killed Trian. The prince is dead, the princess is dead. Princess Aeducan is dead.” Her voice is raising, getting louder and more raw the longer she speaks, until finally she’s yelling out at the water. “Princess Leohta Aeducan, second born and best beloved daughter of House Aeducan, is dead!” She punctuates the last word by throwing the empty bottle into the water but it’s a bad throw, short and shallow. The bottle makes only a small splash then floats, reflecting the moonlight as it bobs its way back toward the shore.

Alistair rises, brushing at the back of his breeches, and makes his way up to stand beside her. He’s well within punching range, possibly a dangerous gamble, but if the way she’s carrying herself is any indication, it wouldn’t hurt very much right now. Plus, if she punched him, at least it’d prove she was feeling something. “I’d mourn her but like you said, I never did get to meet her. I’ve met Warden Aeducan, though, and I think she’s pretty great. Accomplished a lot, too.”

She’s bent back down and is sorting through the stones at her feet, tucking some in the bend of her other arm. Standing back up is a careful process but she’s shaking her head the entire time. “They’re not gonna think so.” Her voice is normal again but her profile is still stony.

Bloop.

Was this was he was like heading into Redcliffe? Of course, he hadn’t gotten drunk on sickly sweet mead to deal with it, but he’d had his turn as the prodigal royal-but-not-really. The main difference was he never wanted it, but she spoke so little of her life before the Grey Wardens. Was the crown of Orzammar what she’d really wanted? Not that it really mattered now. “Seems to me they had their chance to appreciate you and they blew it.”

“Oh, no. That’s the thing. Up until the end, they loved Princess Aeducan. That was the whole problem. She was too well-loved. Luckily, I’m not.” Leohta stares out at the ripples from her last throw but the fight’s going out of her. It ought to be a comfort, less risk of being punched, but instead it just hurts more. He curls his hands into fists at his sides to keep from reaching out, swallows the words that’d tell her just how deeply loved she is and not only by him, as much as he might wish it were so.

“We could go back to Denerim without going to Orzammar.” Aaaaaaaalistair, what’re you doooooooing? He ignores the voice in the back of his head, prepared to make an argument for mounting their assault without the help of the dwarves, but Leohta shakes her head. She’s drunk and she’s still got better sense than you.

“Just because I don’t want to go back doesn’t mean we don’t have to. Being a Grey Warden isn’t supposed to be fun, hasn’t been so far, why start now?” She seems to consider the matter closed as she turns her attention back to the rocks she’s holding, sorting through them as though looking for a particular one. They start to slip away and clack into the pebbles below and with a frustrated sigh she picks one, letting the remainder drop. “This is supposed to be, though. How the fuck do you do this?” Another windup, another bloop.

“Wait. What are you trying to do?”

“Make it…” She shakes her head, the word apparently lost, and instead makes a bouncing motion with her hand.

“You’re trying to skip stones… by heaving them at the surface of the water with all your might?” And there’s the punch he was waiting for, exactly as painless as expected. It’s not even hard enough to stop him laughing.

“I saw you and Zevran do it in Redcliffe before we left and it seemed to calm you down so I thought I’d try. You made it look easy, but if you’re just gonna laugh then forg–”

Alistair intercepts her before she can start to walk away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just that I never would have guessed that’s what you were trying to do. I thought you were mad at the lake or something.” She’s looking up at him, wary, so he holds his hands up in innocence. “If you still want to try, I can show you.”

“No more laughing?”

“No more laughing. Warden’s honor.” When Leohta seems satisfied with his intentions, Alistair finally looks away from her, crouching down. “The first thing you need is the right kind of rock. It needs to be pretty flat and you want a triangle shape if you can find one, but flat will do for now.”

She’s crouching as well. “I thought it would be better with a round rock, like a ball.” She’s quiet, almost chastized, and Alistair has to duck his head and cough into his fist to hide the grin it conjures.

“No, that’ll break through the water and sink. A flat rock will bounce better. Something like these.” He shows her the three he’s found, all rounder still than he’d like but they should do the trick. She holds up a couple of her own and really, they’re no better, but they’re only for learning. “Yes, those will do. Now.” Alistair drops to his knees and crooks his fingers around one of the stones. “You have to hold it like this, because the important part is that you get it to spin. That’s what makes it skip.”

Leohta’s squinting at his hand, then she tries it out herself. Her hands are smaller so she can’t quite circle it the way he does, but Alistair hopes it’ll work out. “Like this?”

“Just like that. Now, the other trick is not to throw it up but to flick it. You want it to stay flat so you have to kind of–” He turns his arm out at the elbow and flicks the rock out onto the water. Four hops, not his best work but not bad.

When he looks back at Leohta, though, she’s entranced. She watches the ripples so long he has to clear his throat to get her attention back, but this time every trace of the stone is gone from her face. She looks eager, determined, but also a little embarrassed. Surprised to have been caught, probably, but it’s a charming expression nonetheless. She turns to face the water again, weighing the rock in her hand, then moves her arm and throws.

It splashes and sinks just like all her other attempts. Leohta curses softly and starts to turn away but Alistair catches her wrist.

“Hey, no way. You’re not giving up after one attempt. C'mon. We’ve got two more rocks, so two more tries, then I guess I can let you give up.” He starts to move before she can start to argue.

“It’s not giving up, Alistair, it’s accepting the inedible. Inedibibble. Ined… remind me to compliment the tavernkeeper tomorrow. His stuff is good.” Her voice gradually gets softer, a delayed reaction to where Alistair has taken up a position just behind her. It’s extremely convenient for him: she can’t see how his face is burning up from the presumptuousness of being so close to her, but it’s also the best position to show her how to move her arm. He wraps his hand around hers and lifts her arm into position.

“From here, you have to flick your hand out. Try to imagine the rock spinning out from the inside of your thumb and taking all that energy with it. The harder you can flick it, the more it’ll bounce and the more hops you’ll–all right, that’s it, you and Zevran are officially being separated because that’s not even dirty and now you’ve made it dirty. I hope you’re happy.” The woman in front of him is struggling to contain her laughter, he can tell, and as much as he wants to keep her focus on him, it’s hard to be genuinely upset. She doesn’t laugh nearly enough and especially not around him. The fact that whatever is so funny is lost on him is a far distant concern.

Alistair waits for her to compose herself then takes a moment to compose himself in turn when she settles back into a proper posture that puts her in contact with him from shoulder to hip. She’s nearly as tall as he is when he’s on his knees like this, a fact he’s thought about many times but never quite in this situation. Leohta gives herself a little shake, tossing her hair in his face as she does. He tries to blow it out of the way but there’s just too much. All right then, one thing at a time.

“Now. Just remember, angle your hand back and then flick. That word is ruined for me now, I think. You’ve ruined flicking.” In front of him Leohta snorts and Alistair make a private vow to forbid Zevran from using that word. He wants it to be their joke even if he doesn’t understand it. “Do you think you can manage?”

“To flick? I’ve done all right for the last few years anyway.” She giggles and clears her throat. “All right. Angle my hand back,” and her hand is moving inside of his so he loosens his grip, “then forward and flick!”

Alistair peers over her shoulder and sure enough. Blip, blip. One hop, but it’s one more than she’d managed before. He puts his hands on her shoulders and squeezes. “There you go! Well done, Warden Aeducan.” She lifts one hand to pat his but he can tell she’s still looking at the ripples.

After a moment, he releases her shoulders and, feeling a little bolder by the fact that she hasn’t elbowed him away yet, reaches forward to comb his fingers through her hair. It’s a practical gesture–even as he’s speaking, her hair is getting in his mouth–but hardly exclusively practical. Her hair is thick and her scalp surprisingly warm underneath it. In front of him she’s gone very still; he thinks she might even be holding her breath but then again, so is he. He focuses on his own hands until he’s gathered her hair at the back of her neck, but then the tension in it changes and oh.

Alistair looks up and she’s right there, her head turned to look at him. Maker’s breath but she’s close, her mouth gently open and her eyes searching his face. Her breath smells like honey and roses and his hand is still in her hair, it’d be so easy and it might be perfect but she’s been drinking and that’s not right. Or might it be OK, with her looking at him like that? The motion of her lips is so mesmerizing that it takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking to him.

“Alistair.” And like that, the moment is over, or at least set aside. “Would you do that again?”

“Of course.” She could ask him to fetch the moons from the sky right now and he’d say yes, but… “Wait, do what?” He didn’t do anything other than have a whole lot of thoughts in a very short span of time.

“Touch my hair. That was nice.” She’s leaning more of her weight against him now and it’s nice but also just starting to make him concerned. Still, he already said yes, so Alistair releases her hair from where he’s holding it and threads his fingers through it again, starting at her temple, mindful of and parallel to the little braid she’s so meticulous about. As he does it, her eyes drift closed but her face is relaxed. It’s not quite a smile but he’ll take it. “Again,” she murmurs as his hand comes to rest on the back of her neck.

Alistair laughs softly but he complies with her request, stroking his fingers through her hair again. And again, and once more, until she leans forward completely and drops her head onto his shoulder. Her breath is warm on his neck as he gives her one last stroke, then stops to reach out away from her. She grumbles softly in protest but he hushes her. “I’m just getting your other bottle. It’s bought and paid for, no sense leaving it here.”

“Why, where’re we going?”

“I don’t know yet about myself but you are doing to bed. Sleeping standing up is only good for horses and probably Sten, and sleeping on your knees is good for no one. Now, come on, up you get.” He hooks the hand holding the unopened bottle of rhodomel under Leohta’s knees, his other arm coming up behind her shoulders. She grumbles again as he starts to stand and he pauses before beginning to walk.

“You’re carrying me like a princess.” The humor in her voice warms him but now he feels a little more confident about deflecting it.

“I’m a Warden carrying another Warden like a Warden. No princesses here. Well, except for the tavern but I’m certainly not trying to pick that up. I could throw you over my shoulder if you wanted, but you have to promise not to throw up on my back.”

“No promises.” She slumps against his shoulder as he starts to walk. It’s only a few steps from the beach to the door but he takes his time. Who knows what Orzammar will do to her, or what she might do to Orzammar? The answer is liable to be complicated but this, for as unexpected as it is, feels strangely simple. She might not even remember it in the morning, but it’s not a feeling Alistair’s going to forget any time soon. “Alistair.”

“I don’t have a free hand to pet you, but if you can stay awake until we get inside, maybe I’ll give you scritches once I get you upstairs.” He’s trying to figure out how he’s going to open the door when she shakes her head and answers.

“Thank you for coming out tonight. I’m sorry I’m–”

“None of that now. You have nothing to be sorry for, and if anything I should say thank you for having me.” Alistair manages to hook the latch with his pinkie then wedge his foot into the gap, kicking the door open as he maneuvers her inside. “You may not have found it so, but I think being a Warden can be a little bit fun, if you’re with the right person. Or people,” he continues, scrambling to cover for himself while trying to ease the door’s closing with his foot. Once he’s got both feet back on the ground, he looks down at the woman in his arms. Fast asleep, looking as young as he’s ever seen her and more peaceful than she has possibly the entire time he’s known her. The inn’s main room is empty, the fire doused, and he’s almost loathe to speak again and interrupt the silence, but he does.

“Or person. Just the right person.”

#my writing #dadwc #dwc #alistair theirin #leohta aeducan #alistair x f!warden #alistair x f!aeducan #alcohol #but also fluff #and feels #leohta's such a mess #oh and yes she and jonah gave their mabaris the same name #it's a thing

[peridipshit]

EDIT: IDK HOW TO MAKE A READMORE ON MOBILE SORRY FOR A WALL

hey hey guys ive been super inactive and theres a reason for that and that reason finally worked out and i cannot fucking begin to explain how good it is ghjklljhgfdghjkljhgfdghjkljhgfdghjklhgfhjkl

read more for a super lengthy overshare of angst and ecstasy

i kno w its fuckin long, its not for anybody but myself bc ye i have adhd myself and dont know how to read sh i t and dont expect anybody to have the patience for this

so, if i start at the beginning, ive had, the hardest period of my life starting around fall 2016. ive been in community college for about 4 years now, and i dont want to list all of the things ive done because it wouldnt reflect the mental emotional and physical exhaustion ive put myself through for all of this work. and all this time i thought it would amount to nothing because a lot of what i was supposed to be doing was pushed away out of fear. i filled up my time with a million impressive things that i genuinely loved and enjoyed, but knew it wasnt the actual work to get into the universities i was so desperate for. i pushed,, all my applications to the week or day before the due date. i had to give up three out of seven universities because of the deadline pressures. 

but my main school, the one that i returned to as the ideal place, but a laughable pipe dream, was the one i worked the absolute hardest for

i needed to do two different applications with a total of uh, 8 or 9 essays? the first round of 5ish essays i submitted the day before, and then the second application, i started the week before and completed the essays and storyboard, and hit the submit button 2 minutes before the deadline. i had two winter semester classes (which both kept me under a no-sleep schedule) and i juggled the application work by night. i ended up with like 3 total hours of sleep in that week. i almost gave up like three times but i remember crying after finding this song which coincidentally reflects the acceptance into the university im now somehow attending. it was the moment to myself that i decided i wanted to push through and grow up

the third round where i almost gave up was when my professor couldnt recieve my emails and i had no other way to contact him during the winter. i came to his office the week school started in spring with a deadline of three days to get my letter completed, and he submitted it an hour and a half before the deadline. i spent that weekend convinced i would just take another year at community college and at home and prepare myself more. i cried after checking my phone when i was walking out of Black Panther because he hadnt submitted it with less than two hours left before my application would have been thrown out. he submitted once i got into the car and refreshed the tab

last month i got an interview with the school of my dreams. i looked up the real statistics and they choose 30 transfer applicants for interview and accept 15. that moment was a rush of disbelief and brief sobbing as i realized that maybe im not crazy and not stupid and maybe just doing good things

that was the longest week of my life, but it wasnt a nervous thing at all. i knew i could nail an interview, it just was practicing. i spent each car ride to school talking to myself for 30 minutes. 

i literally could not have done anything as amazingly as i did in that interview without my friend’s help (hey dude), i was literally hearing that skype notification and have never had my heart pound as hard in my life. two seconds thinking about my friends and everything theyve done for me was like, a reminder that ppl care and have my back and istg that power of friendship anime bs is real my dudes and i couldnt ask for better people in my life 

i rocked it like some kind of word virtuoso person and waited a month for a notification

limbo is wierd

i spent so long knowing i was so, close, but not in a place to celebrate

the day i found out was Of Course as wild as it was, where i was having a panic attack out of everything in the morning that accumulated, i was like near crying in class because the prof was kinda yelling at me and i almost lost my project and had to run about a mile in heels to look for it and i was being hit on by a guy twice my age and i had 2 hours of sleep

but????????? i got into ucIa in their theater film and television school, which is harder than any ivy league school. me and 14 other transfer students. 92 total undergrads in that entire film school. ill be nineteen into my junior year. ill be at the heart of the industry going into animation and able to do practically anything. 

a n d i learned that not only my tuition room and board will be covered, but likely a ridiculous amount beyond that too.

i just. got to a point in my life last year that i knew that i was setting myself up for failure and i thought that if i wasnt improving i was failing and so i put so much onto myself in terms of working that i literally had no time for myself. no time for anything leisurely and no time for shows or movies or games or even friends. the only thing i felt like was my escape was cosplay and i still had that shamed by my family for wasting money and time. i of course had many moments and opportunities to do a few things that i regard very fondly, but overall i had no time to genuinely reflect on the damage that everything had caused. it felt like i had no time to cry ultimately, like some kind of hamster wheel of responsibility and fear. im still recovering now, and i want to be better. i want to do my best for myself and everyone around me. and i want to become someone that can be healthy and be myself. and yknow what im pretty damn proud of where im already at right now 

trying hard to keep coherency but i gotta wake up at 5 for an 8am class tomorrow so this is a lil rushed. its probably corny as hecc, but hell i feel just ok for a second and thats nice. i would never have gotten here with the support around me and like, my friends and family have done so much for me and i could write ten of these rambles on each one of you. you care about me and i care about you guys beyond anything these words can express. (*cough*quinn keira kevin cece*cough* not to say everyone else i know hasnt impacted me because gOd so many lives have done so much for me, i just, hey, love yall) 

my life is finally feeling like something big, ive never believed in the destined for greatness thing, ive just felt Capable of greatness and afraid beyond words of wasting it. and i want to be great for me, i want to be great to others, and i want to be great to the big picture. 

just, holy fuck i love you guys so much and thank you 

things are finally looking ok and i would repay you guys back in to the fullest extent of my hearts adoration and appreciation

#ive been low on online conversational executive functioning and online existing forever #but im working on it #ill be around the corner soon #i have a month left of school tho #and then im done and moving on #and have time for me #ily guys #thank you.

[not-close-to-straight]

Dont Leave Me (Holmes/Watson --Ritchie-verse)

(So this isnt really anything, just a little scene I cant get out of my head. Ritchie-verse Holmes/Watson because I love RDJLaw)

(Takes place sometime between the first and second movie?? From Watsons POV because I love the old style of him narrating.)

(I just opened a text box and started writing so it doesnt have my usual editing, please ignore any weird grammar mistakes lol)

(PS– I sort of love this. Its sort of flowery and romantic and I dont usually write in this style, so you know… say nice things)

********************************

“Dont leave me.” 

The words startle me, and I glance up from my reading to cast an eye at the man sprawled in haphazard fashion across his favorite chair. 

“Holmes.” I inquire, curious, for I had assumed the man to be asleep for quite some time now. “Are you speaking to me?” 

Surely he hadnt been speaking to me, such plaintive words muttered in such a sad tone. 

Dont leave me. 

I am aware of course, more than anyone, that behind the caustic words, the razor sharp wit, and general disdain for anything society deemed appropriate– the great detective Holmes is very nearly a broken man, slave to a mind that never slows, an intellect that hungers for more and a heart that loves either not at all, or in a manner that consumes his very soul. 

But with these words– Dont leave me– he sounds as if he is begging. Begging, and yet he sounds as if he has already seen the bleak future when all this begging is for naught, and whatever he had wanted has slipped through his fingers. 

“Are you sleeping?” I try again, to keep my own thoughts from traipsing inevitably down the path that only ever ends in despair- the forbidden ideas that accompany the place of Holmes in my mind and heart and in my darkest hours, I will admit they have taken root in my very soul. 

“Holmes!” My voice is admittedly sharper this time, too much for the situation, but I must attempt to keep myself from– from yearning. From wishing that perhaps this great man cares for me in the way I care for him…

“Don’t leave me.” there they are again, these words that are so distressing in their simplicity, and Holmes sounds exhausted, he sounds washed out and pale, the usual vigor coloring his voice completely lacking, leaving things fragile and thready and in this moment– frightening in their implications. 

“She is lovely.” Holmes continues, and now a hand lifts to pat at his unruly hair, the dark curls in worse disarray than usual, evidence of the depression that has seemed to grip him in its talons these last several weeks. 

“Mary.” he clarifies when I remain silent. “She is lovely, a perfect match for you in temperament, and she brings about a softness in you that I–” a hitching breath, nearly a sob and my fingers tighten on the arm rests to the point of pain as I wait for him to continue. 

“A softness that I– that I will miss in my own life.” a silence, an eternity before he speaks again– 

– “I suppose I should be saving these confessions for your wedding, so I might raise a glass in your honor and blather on about true love, about l'amour vrai, but I have found myself unable to put pen to paper for these sentiments and it is… vexing.” 

“I see.” I answer, all the while not seeing at all, for as always, Holmes is speaking in riddles, turns of phrase that obscure his true intent, and though I should be accustomed to this after so long as colleagues and friends, after his startlingly plain–Dont leave me– I find myself frustrated with his circumlocution, and wish he would speak plainly, as he does when he is deducing, when he is peeling back the layers of a mystery until all is laid bare. 

“My dear Watson.” there is a distinct fondness in his tone now, a warmth that is present only here in our rooms, away from the watchful eyes of society. Perhaps in private moments after he has solved yet another case, when adrenaline is coursing and we are still laughing as if we are quite mad over the brilliance of one Sherlock Holmes, and the inevitable stupidity of a criminal to believe he can escape consequences for whichever heinous crime has been committed. 

It is those moments when I find myself drawn impossibly closer to him, when my errant hands drift towards his body, when my lips purse with the thought to embrace– and he calls me dear Watson as if he would be agreeable to those things I dream about in the dark–

“Dear Watson.” Holmes says again. “As always, you see but you do not observe.” 

“Holmes–” I prepare to argue, as I tend to do, but he waves me off. 

“Tell me, Doctor.” he begins again. “I shall tell you my symptoms and you may diagnose me, hm?” 

“Very well.” I sigh and put my book down. In these interminable few moments since Holmes first spoke, I have not read a single word, though my mind has traveled miles as it dissects every nuance of the sentences we have shared this evening. “Your symptoms.” I prompt and wait with studied patience for him to begin. 

“I have no appetite.” he says shortly and I refrain from commenting, for even on a good day, convincing Holmes to slow down long enough to eat in nigh impossible. 

“I want to stay in the dark.” Quieter now, and I sit up straighter in concern. “To be outside with people, the sunlight– I cannot bring myself to stomach it. I prefer it here in my rooms, shutting the world away.” 

“Continue.” I make a vague motion with my hands, but he is not looking this way, so he does not notice. 

“I find myself lonely, even in the company of others, for I am never in the company of the one I want. Or at least not in the way I long to be. Not with– not with the one I want.” The last word is emphasized, even as it is whispered and naturally I pick up on it. 

“The one you want.” I repeat, and my heart– traitorous thing– beats faster within me. “I– er–.” 

“Mary is lovely.” Holmes sits up now, pins me with that all consuming gaze, staring into my heart and soul and searching–

“She is lovely.” he says yet again, as if repetition will resolve something within him that disagrees. “And yet I think I hate her, for she has come into your life and taken your affection from me. I am not trying to suggest that your for me affection is anything other than perfectly proprietary, Doctor, but I will admit to–” 

Now his eyes shutter, and fall away, he seems to shrink in upon himself, folding further into the chair. “I will admit to hoping, to thinking perhaps you might–” he falls silent, picking at a thread on his trousers.

Then, “Please.” he is begging again, and the word brings me off my own chair, crossing the sitting room until I can kneel before him. 

“Don’t leave me.” his eyes close entirely now, and I cannot keep myself from touching him, my palms on his knees, and it seems unnatural for an innocent touch to burn so hot, but at this moment, I swear it does. 

“I wont leave you.” I wish I had lovely words in this moment, better words, flowery phrases to explain to this man, to this wondrous soul the intensity in which I want– no, need– him, but I only have these four, so I say them again. 

“I wont leave you.” 

I see just the beginnings of that beguiling smile, just a hint of what is surely a full fledged flush in that lovely skin, before his lips are on my own and we are tumbling backwards together, my head hitting the floor with a thump that is ignored in favor of bringing that tempting mouth to my own again and again. 

Holmes is lying entirely against me now, his hands in my hair and the tug and pull at the strands is the most wonderful thing I have ever felt, the novel feel of a mans strength and angles completely different than the feel of a womans curves, and I find that I enjoy it more, now that it is this man in my arms. 

“I need to bathe.” Holmes pulls away to chuckle, and I smile at the mussed hair and joy in his eyes. “But then we should continue–” he leaves the sentence unfinished and leans down to kiss me again, sliding his tongue between my lips in way that is no small hint as to what he wishes to do. 

When he presses against me hesitantly, and I feel the line of his arousal against my thigh, it is the most natural thing in the world to lift myself into him as well, and the gasp that leaves that kiss reddened mouth has me tightening my fingers on his waist, urging him down to me yet again. 

“We have time later.” he whispers, and it is nearly a question, so I nod as best I can to assure him that I want this as badly as he does, if not more so, for I am feeling rather like a man who was not aware he has been starving and now has been handed a feast.

“I wont leave you.” I promise. “Sherlock–” his breath catches when I use his given name. “Sherlock.” I say it once more if only to see him smile again. “I will be here always.” 

**********************************

#johnlock #sherlock holmes/john watson #ritchie-verse #rdjude

[c-rankin93]

SHE'S NO YOU - CH.15

A/N: I can confidently say that I have never been that sick in my life. I still have a pretty good cough left on me and Annaleigh is finally getting better. One week later, ugh! My partner only had it for 3 days... The flu absolutely bombs. I'm finally recovering and the updates shall return. Happy vibes guys! Here's a very belated, but welcomed chapter. I hope you like it. And this is the whine down of the story. P.s I will he doing 2 epilogue chapterS to this story! Years after the final chapter:) Likes always not edit. I don't have the time or energy. Maybe I should get a beta. Any volunteers HAHAHA lol:) --- CHAPTER FIFTEEN - AWAKENING LOVE --- FINN POV: Life had been a blur the past few months. Christmas wasn't celebrated, merely just acknowledge as another day. Even the new year was brush off. Everyone seemed to just move between their lives and being at the hospital like it was a regular thing. Wake up, work, hospital, home. It was a stupid mantra that my mind seemed to follow without even realising. Joshua and Ruby barely smiled, only when they would tell Rae's sleeping form about the fun things they did at school. I didn't blame them, I seemed to be more sour as well. I was without a personal assistant at work because of Olivia's very welcoming departure, and that left Archie to pick up my peices. I had refused any other applicant that had applied for the job, but do you blame me? The last bitch fucked up my marriage and it seemed that the males that did apply, didn't have the qualifications I looked for. Archie had taken the lead and downgraded his job title for now, just so he could follow me around cleaning up the messes I seem to create. Heck, even Dad seemed to have come out of retirement. I knew they were waiting for me to crumble under the weight of raising two kids and a company, but that was the last thing I needed to do. I wasn't the one broken laying in a fucking hospital bed, with a machine connected to my airways. So, I had no right to have a complete mental break down, like my body was inching towards. It was now Febuary 3rd and Ruby's birthday was only a week away. I know she wants nothing more then her mother to wake up, I hear her whisper it into Rae's ear everynight when we say our goodbyes. But, I knew that was highly unlikely. The more she stayed in this comatose state, the less likely she will ever wake up again. I was not prepared for that. They had taken her off medical sedation a little over a month ago, and still her she remained the same. Vitals never changed, and bloods always came back normal. Rae just simply wasn't ready to come back to us. I hadn't gone to work today. I woke to chaos, Ruby and Joshua fighting over the amount of time spend in the bathroom, then to who ate who's cereal. By the time I had dropped them off at school, I had sent an email to Archie telling him I was spending the day with Rae. So here I was, white walls surrounded me, the heart monitor beeping steadily and silence. I hadn't spoken since I arrived two hours ago, only too the one nurse who checked her Vitals, and once again everything was 'normal'. Normal? I didn't understand how any of this was 'normal'. Rae only moved her chest to breathe, she hadnt opened her eyes... How the fuck can that be normal? The doctors couldn't even tell me why she was still in a coma, even though she was taken off sedation. But, the only reply I every got was, 'everything seems normal sir'. My hand clutched hers, tight. My lips found hers ever so often, and the light flush on her cheeks never faded. She looked peacefully and perfecf, I was worried she didn't want to come back and I honestly wouldn't blame her. Not after the torment her heart had endured the last few years. Maybe she wasn't strong enough to brave us anymore. God was this fickle man, but I did believe that he had a plan for all of us. I just hope her story hadn't come to an end, when we were only experiencing the next chapter. "Rae" I didn't understand why I was whispering, but I was. "Hey baby, it's me. You need to wake up for me, Joshua and Ruby. You need to come back to us..." A tear streaked down my face. "You have to wake up baby, because Ruby's birthday is next week and she really wants you to be there, I really want you to be there." I breathed a steady breath trying to control my overpowering emotions. "We love you, and we need you back with us. I promise Rae if you wake up, I will be with you every step of the way. I will treat you like the princess you are, I will beg down on my knees until you agree to come back to me. I will do anything, absolutely fucking anything for us to be a family again." My head fell onto her arm. I couldn't stop the tears, I just missed her so damn much. Her body was here with my, but that soul, that charismatic personality I fell in love with was.  I was a grown man, in a Prada suit mourning my loss, whilst holding her warm body. I just felt like a little boy, broken beyond repair - unashamedly. "Do you remember the day I proposed to you?" I smiled, remembering one of the best days of my life. "I was so nervous that you would say no, I nearly didn't follow through with it. Plus, your brothers terrified me even with their blessing. Archie and Chop had practically kicked my ass when I told them about my self doubts." "I planned to wait until after dinner to ask you, but the moment I saw you come through the door of the restaurant in that black dress. Mm, you looked so good. I knew I wouldn't be able to wait. That's why the moment you stopped in front of me, I was down on my knee whipping that ring out. I think I put it on your finger before you even had the chance to say yes.." I laughed, then looked off into the distance. "When you married me 6 months later. It was the happiest I've ever been in my life thus far. Then you gave me Joshua and Ruby, and I thought my life was complete. The worst decision I ever made was hiring Olivia, and I promise I'll never make a stupid decision like that again. I promise from now on that I'll always chase you, no matter how far you run, I'll always be there. I'm not giving up again, but you have to wake up first baby... you have too..." I sobbed. "I can't do this without you..." 'Beep-beep, Beep-beep, Beep-beep' I looked to her heart monitor that was beeping a little faster, then back to her  beautiful face. The pale pigments of her skin glowed a little more brightly, light flush remained on her cheeks but deepened in colour. 'Beep-beep, Beep-beep, Beep-beep' The monitor continued to beep faster, and I was starting to get a little worried. I went to release Rae's hand so I could lean over and press the nurses button, but something stopped me. Rae's fingers twitched under my grip. Her nails lightly scratched my palm and my eyes widened. "Rae?" I kissed her forehead, brushing away the few strands of hair on her face. Her fingers move again. "NURSE!!" I shouted towards the door, then cover Rae's face with my palms. "Rae baby, can you hear me?" Then pulled away from her. "I NEED A NURSE IN HERE!" I yelled again as I watch Rae's eyelids flutter, but not open. I slammed my hand against the emergency button and within seconds nurse after nurse flooded into the room. "She's waking up! Rae, baby wake up!" "Sir, I'm going to need to step out of the room please." I scoffed, "I'm not leaving my wife when she's waking up!" I was irritated that she thought that would be the best decision. "Please sir, her blood pressure is elevated. Shes panicking because of the breathing tube in her throat." I'm panicking. The sound of her gagging was louder then what it sound be. She just wanted to breath properly, but to do that she needed to relax and let the doctors pull the tube out. "Rae!" I turned back to her and grabbed her hand. I know she could hear me. "Its alright baby, you need to relax so they can pull it out. Then you will breath. Relax-" I was forcefully pulled from her grip just as her eyes opened. I tried to pull against whoever had me, but was unsuccessful because of the two burly men that were not letting go. Her gulp of air was heaven to my ears, then her little pants soon after. The doctors had successful pulled the breathing tube from her throat without damage. "I love you!" Her eyes focused on me, but I didn't know if she could actually see me. "Remember, I love you..." "Finn?" Her voice was so soft I barely heard her. The noise from the doctors and nurses drowned out anything else she may have said to me. The door to her room slammed in my face, and there I stood in a crowed hallway just watching. Watching the madness that was happening around the once dull room. I couldn't do anything, but hope for the best. -- RAE POV: "Ms. Earl can you hear me?" A foreign voice spoke. The brightness from the light shone directly in my eyes, making it hard to see without glare. "Rachel, sweetie? My name is Barbra, I'm one of the Nurses here at Bellevue hospital, I've been caring for you for the last few months..." Months? What is she talking about? "You were involved in a car accident back in December..." The flash of a memory played in my head. Albert's crinkled smile morphed into the face of panic as the car was flipped. "Water" I croaked towards the older women, who smiled and poured some into a cup. "Here you go love. Small sips, because you'll find your throat might be sore when you swallow" Nurse Barbara cooed. My body ached, my head felt like someone had played the drums on it, but i didnt care. All I could think of was the moment I opened my eyes to see Finn standing over me. I craved the feel of his hand brushing over my dewy skin. I smiled looking towards the ceiling remembering everything he had told me this past few minutes. I never knew he was nervous to propose, because on that night he acted so confident like he usually did. My heart swelled remembering his words of love, and family. The promises. Just like the ones before that were kept, he was a man of honor. The nurses were still busy fluffing around me, checking that, doing this. I was flustered, all I wanted to do is see my family, my kids... "Finn" I whispered trying to get someone's attention. "Mr. Nelson is just standing outside the room, would you like me to go get him?" I nodded and relaxed back into the bed. A few minutes later he walked back through the door. He didn't acknowledge those around him, but me. His eyes bore into mine, a ghost of a smile kissed his lips. I couldn't think the moment he pulling my face toward his and covered my lips with his own. I savoured the sweet feeling for only a second, but i would never forget it. He smiled brightly as he pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling my hand into his lap. "You don't know how much you scared me.." he said honestly. "I thought I'd lost you that day" Finn looked at our intertwined finger, "You suffered a seizure not long after you were sedated after surgery. When they told me, I nearly broke. Loosing you... I can't even think about it, Rae." His head fell forward, his lips touched the skin on my hand. I could feel his tears, but I didn't have the energy to wipe them away. His sobs where quiet, but his body shuttered with every breath he took. "I needed you to be Ohkay..." he finally spoke, looking into my eyes. "I love you Rae" he smiled through the tears, and brushed mine away. I hadn't even realised that I was crying as well until this action. "I love you too" I croaked and swallowed hard. I meant every word I said, I truly did still love him. -- @lily-pop-2 @luly310 @tinakegg @arathewallflower @mmfdfanfic @i-dream-of-emus @l88cym @milymargot @milllott @hey1tskat1e @lurkernolonger @eveerez @mallyallyandra Did I get all the tags? Lol

#MMFD #my mad fat diary #fanfic #fan fiction #my mad fat diary fan fiction