#i decided throughout the story she dyes her every now and then

[claudtrait]

DAMN girl im surprised ur hair hasn't fallen out yet..

#so basically andy's a natural redhead #but she looks so good as a blonde and i was like omg i can't choose... #so i was like fine #i decided throughout the story she dyes her every now and then #THE BRAIN WAS BRAINING YALL YUPP #ts4 #simblr #sims 4 #sims #the sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 cas #ts4 cas #cl extras #*andy #my sims

[buckysegan]

how silly of me, to fall in love with you.

Summary: when one of the new pilots around base get's an idea in his head about a certain nurse john egan, is having none of it. john x she. Word Count: 1.1k A/N: i saw a prompt in the tags about john not being willing to give up his jacket. but i think our little possessive bucky would willingly hand it over to lay his claim....i also wrote this in 30 minutes with no edits forgive me. a little prequel look to this pairing.

there was two things about john egan that any one that had been around base for more than five minutes were sure of, the man couldn't sing, and he didn't share her or buck. it was unfair of him and irrational really, to the point that just for just a moment bucky wondered if all of this was moderately cruel of him. despite all the thoughts in his head though, he couldn't help himself.

they weren't at the pub today which meant for a change he didn't have to watch the usual british majors hit on his girl, that was where his usual source of anguish came from because the boys knew that despite the fact bucky liked to advise that the pretty nurse was too good for any of them, especially him, the way his eyes lingered on her was enough of a claim. especially after lil and dye. and john knew, he knew that he was around her just enough that he managed to keep the rest of the boys at bay. that was what was so cruel off him, he wouldn't take her. honestly he didn't think he could because a man like him couldn't taint something so pure.

he just didn't want anyone else having her either.

it seemed that the message that she was his though, hadn't reached a number of the boys that had piled in over the last week and john was pretty sure he was one wrongly placed hand away from loosing it all together.

not even the hand on his thigh and gentle mumblings of his best friend was enough to calm the frazzling of nerves that were building in him. bucky was pretty sure he hadn't smiled in at least an hour, that had to be a record and someone needed to be careful. "she's not looking at them bucky, you don't have a damn thing to worry about." brady offered from across the table where they were all propped, as if each of the men were waiting for their major to blow and ready to pull him back given they'd heard plenty of stories of just how many of them it would take should he decide to loose his temper.

the scraping of bucky's chair had everyone's eyes pulled in his direction, even hers though she had been trying to ignore the way the pilots baby blues had burned into the back of her skull all night whenever she had been asked to dance with one of the boys. she had simply been a welcoming host, every one that knew her knew she was blind to any of the attention that she had received throughout the evening. now she along with the rest of the party was left watching as john stormed in the direction of the door muttering something about being back soon.

barely ten minutes had passed when she felt the heavy fabric droop over her shoulders, the hands on her waist with such boldness confirming just who had appeared despite the fact she had been talking to lieutenant hart. "john..." she trailed, spinning in his grasp as she moved to look up at him, only to realise slowly just how quiet the room had gone. john himself, couldn't bring himself to care at the audience, he had never been shy of a performance and this might have been his best one.

"hi baby." he hummed, fingers cupping at her chin for a second as he looked down at his handy work, the light sheep skin now crowding over her favorite person. "it seemed a little chilly in here, figured that you should be taking care of yourself." he mused quietly and he made no attempts to wipe the smirk that had replaced the glare he had been wearing as he had stormed out of here.

she could feel her cheeks turn an unfortunate shade of red that no amount of powder was going to be able to help her with. this over grown, infuriating man the very cause. at some point in time, when now she couldn't remember, she had fallen immovably in love with john egan. not that he seemed to notice, or if he had, not that he seemed willing to do anything about. she had never questioned why either. she had looked at him plenty, looked at the other nurses following him around base, she knew the options he had which only furthered her confusion at the jacket now slunk around her shoulders.

"no one else is wearing a jacket bucky." she was quick to huff though she had made no move to rid herself of the damn thing, marvelled still at how small this man managed to make her feel. "mhumm, that's the point baby, i'll see you at work tomorrow?" he asked, a side glance at hart telling him that the majors message had been received loud and clear and he knew the message would have been accepted on a wider level too. not everyone had met her, the damn light of his life that wondered around base like his very own sunshine, but everyone knew the distinct jacket that bucky flew in, and now everyone had seen her in it.

backing away to his table john already knew the taunts he would be greeted with but fishing for his glass as he sunk back to his seat, he didn't even bother to hide how proud of himself he was. "jesus john." gale was the first to groan at him, the others soon joining in. "why don't you just piss on her next time, that would be less obvious." brady again, was quick to jab. bucky himself could only offer another shrug of his shoulders as he let his gaze fall to the bar, where he knew she was now watching him from where she was propped. john egan didn't deserve her, he knew that, and neither did anyone else here, he was protecting her, that's all it was.

one day, when her husband came along and she had someone else to love her how she deserved, someone that wasn't a changed man. he would let her go, he'd move on and someone else could keep her safe. just for now the jacket would have to do, it was better than his alternative plan, to grab her, kiss her in the middle of the room and tumble out some sort of confession - how silly of me, to fall in love with you.

#john egan x reader #masters of the air #callum turner #mota #mota drabble #john egan. #also PS #Im not over loosing the jacket so early #someone give callum that jacket to wesr #rn

[pierreandaworldofhealthyhair]

A Cut From The Heart: Beautiful Hair and Touching Stories

Alisha Pierre has been working at Changes Salon located in Latham New York for about three years now.

Pierre has always been creative, in her early childhood she used to cut her Barbie doll’s  hair to “give them a better look.” At Changes Salon, Pierre is an independent hair stylist meaning she takes care of everything herself. She doesn't have to work under anyone else and can book who she wants and express her own creative style with no limitations.

Pierre had previously worked under a head stylist and had ultimately decided that it wasn't for her. “I wanna thrive. I wanna build my clientele the way I wanna build them and do hair the way I wanna do hair and not have somebody telling me that I'm doing it wrong,” says Pierre. 

As someone who has been a client with Pierre during both points of her life, it was liberating to see how free and how much happier she became when becoming independent. Even over the loud noises of the salon, Pierre strives to have silly conversations with her clients new or old. This makes the experience so much better than sitting in the chair in silence. Pierre creates such a strong bond with her clients’ and in turn keeps them coming back to her. There is always a smile on Pierre’s face and she never fails to make her clients’ happy and confident. 

Following Pierre throughout the day and seeing how she interacts with her clients was truly a wonderful moment.

Pierre was doing a foil / dye job on one of her clients and it was intriguing to see how much goes into the process and what it's like behind the scenes. After putting in the bleach for her clients highlights, Pierre lets the bleach sit for about 20-25 minutes before taking the client back to the sink to rinse it out. During this rinse, Pierre uses a shampoo and a strengthening conditioner to keep the hair from getting too damaged from the prior bleach treatment. 

After this first round of shampooing and conditioning, Pierre then goes to the back of the salon where she mixes the clients toner. Upon walking into the back room, you are greeted with a huge wall of color and a little closet where they measure the color and store their developers. Sometimes Pierre has to get creative when mixing colors because she wont have exactly what the client wants. There's a bit of math that goes into making the toner to ensure that you don't add too much or too little of anything to the mix. Sometimes Pierre will add splashes of red into a brown because the things the color will sit better with their hair, she really makes a judgment call every time she goes into the back room and mixes that color. 

“Sometimes I come back here and look at what colors I have and I'm like shoot. So then I have to kind of make something up on my own and it usually comes out almost perfect,” said Pierre while mixing her client's toner. If the color is not achievable or close at all, she will go out and ask the client if they are okay with a slight change, but she uses her creativity majority of the time to mix a color that's almost exactly what the client wanted. 

After the toner is mixed and ready to go, Pierre then brings it back out to her client and lathers that onto the hair. She then lets that sit for another 10-15 minutes depending on how long it takes to grab onto the clients hair. After the 10-15 minutes are up, she does another round of shampooing and conditioning. She then brings the client to the chair and proceeds with the haircut (if requested) and blow drys the hair. 

During the whole process it was incredible to see how comfortable Pierrs' client was, she seemed very relaxed the whole time. It was fascinating to watch how they interacted with each other and listening to the conversations they were having. They seemed to trust each other and know each other on a personal level, and that's a bond that Pierre strives to have with all of her clients. 

Final Hair With A Ton Of Flare

Pierre’s style varies from natural colors, cool cuts, beautiful hairstyles and wild color transformations. One of Pierre’s favorite things to do is a colorful hair project, she explains how she loves the process and seeing how all of the vibrant colors come together at the end.  “If you asked me what my favorite thing was five years ago, my least favorite would be the fashion color, the crazy colored hair, but like now,  as long as it's planned out correctly, it's one of my favorite things.”

Pierre loves a challenge, but she can also create beautiful work for natural colors and cute cuts. Pierre has a large portfolio of many different kinds of works. As a creative person, Pierre finds hair to be an expression of oneself and is always thrilled to help someone achieve their perfect color.  

Pierre continues to explore her abilities and takes on many different projects each year. From exploring with new prom or wedding updos to experimenting with crazy cool colors, she keeps expanding her creativity. One thing about Pierre is she's anything but boring, and the work she does on hair definitely shows that. “So, keep on going. Just keep swimming.”

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 4

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mentions sexual experiences of reader before she was of age, discussion about sex lives, flirting, touching 

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 3

Next →Part 5

Head resting in your hand and elbow resting on the counter, you huffed, still not used to the heat that accumulated in the store throughout the day and praying for just one customer to walk through the door so you could experience a refreshing blast of evening air. You supposed you could go outside yourself to cool off a little, like Keishin had previously suggested in lieu of sticking your head in one of the fridges, but being the only person at the store currently, you felt a little bad about leaving the building, even if it was just to step out front.

You were still trying your best to put on a good impression for Mrs. Sakanoshita—despite the rough first impression you had made on her son—and you knew the family store was precious, so you decided to suck it up for the remainder of your shift.

Without much to do, since you had completed your chores early, you remained seated at the front counter, bored out of your mind. That was, until your prayers were answered and you heard the front doors slide open.

“Hello!” you greeted happily, ready to welcome a customer. Your radiant excitement faded when you noticed it was just Keishin, however, and went back to slumping on the counter. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Wow, those rapid mood changes must be why we’ve been so busy lately,” Keishin shot back at you, a cigarette hanging from his mouth like usual. “Will the girl behind the counter smile or frown at you? Maybe it’ll be both. Oh, how exciting!”

“Can it, dye job,” you grumbled.

Keishin feigned hurt, his hand resting over his chest dramatically as he pretended to have been shot. “Words hurt, you know. You’ve hurt me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you told him, lazily gesturing around the empty store. “What does matter is that we’ve been dead for hours and I’m bored.”

Keishin poked his bottom lip out and faked a pout. “Awh, poor baby. Is getting paid to sit there and do nothing hard work? You must be exhausted. Poor thing.”

“I don’t get paid nearly enough to put up with you.” You reached across the counter to lightly smack his shoulder but he jumped out of the way just in time. “Seriously though, stay and entertain me for a while.”

“If you’re that bored, why don’t you dust the vents or something?”

You laid your head down on the counter and exhaled slowly for effect. “You know I aim to please but that sounds like hell. Can’t you just talk to me for like ten minutes? Tell me about your day or something.”

Keishin threw his head back and groaned loudly. “But I’m too hungry to think about anything other than food right now.”

“I’m hungry too but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

“No, you’re just complaining about everything else.” He leaned against the other side of the counter, his tongue flicking against the tip of his cigarette as he thought. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

You glanced up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I doubt it but proceed.”

Done with your constant back talk, which was extremely common between the two of you ever since you had worked out your differences and agreed to the deal he had suggested, he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly into your face. “Just shut up and listen, will you?”

You coughed when you accidentally inhaled the second-hand smoke. “If I get cancer and die, I’m haunting you.”

“Go ahead.” He didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving your mouth as he headed into the back room and shut off the store lights. Then, with his own set of keys in hand, he headed back toward the front of the store. “Come on.” He looked back at you expectantly when you didn’t immediately follow.

Confused, you slowly stepped around from the back of the counter. “Where are we going?”

“We’re closing up early and going to get something to eat.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, half of you wondering if this was some sort of employee test to see how responsible you were. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“I am, you aren’t,” Keishin said, beckoning you over to him. “But let’s just keep this between you and I, yeah? What my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, it’s slow anyway.”

Taking off your white apron and grabbing your things, you reluctantly followed the older man out of the store and watched as he locked up behind the two of you. Anxiously, you shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble for this?”

“I promise I won’t tell on you,” Keishin assured you as he stuffed the keys back into his pocket and dropped his cigarette bud to the ground before crushing it with his foot. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Falling into pace beside Keishin as the two of you set off down the sidewalk, you following his lead, you weren’t sure exactly sure what to say or even if you should say something. Never before had you and Keishin existed outside of the store together and it felt a little awkward. 

“So . . . is this like a date or something?” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. What you had meant to come across as a casual inquiry ended up sounding more like a desperate girl clarifying what she meant to the boy she liked. You sounded like a child.

The corners of Keishin’s mouth curled upward and he shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.” He really didn’t seem to care one way or another. “Although, I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I didn’t take you out at least once . . . fake or not.”

You nearly choked on your spit at the use of the word ‘boyfriend’. Even though you had been pretending to date him for the purposes of changing your parents’ ideals for the past few weeks, you were still caught off guard every time Keishin referred to himself as your boyfriend—even though he was usually doing it to mock you. 

“Yeah, just awful,” you agreed halfheartedly. “Where are we going anyway?”

“This little place that I like,” he said, his answer extremely vague until he continued. “Best ramen I’ve ever had.”

After a few more minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the place Keishin was talking about and he ordered two take-out bowls and paid for them both, insisting that you should try his regular order since you had never been there before. Not wanting to disagree because he was footing the bill, you let him do what he wanted and tailed him out to a picnic table outside like an obedient puppy. 

“It’s much too hot to eat inside,” Keishin reasoned as he plopped down on the opposite side of the picnic table from you. “Plus, it’s nice outside. Might as well enjoy the weather while it lasts, right?”

“Right.” You nodded.

While Keishin dug right into his meal, you sat still, hands in your lap, and watched him. One thing you had quickly come to realize was that Keishin was the perfect specimen for people watching, and not just because he was relatively easy on the eyes. He was an interesting person; for example, how he tucked half-smoked cigarettes behind his ear to smoke later or how he always wore a headband to keep his hair out of his face but vehemently refused to just cut his damn hair. 

Even though you bugged him about cutting his hair all the time, you secretly hoped he would continue to stand his ground and refuse because you wanted to see what he looked like with his hair down. You also wanted to run your hands through his hair—it looked soft and fluffy—but that was besides the point.

“Hey, it’s gonna get cold,” Keishin snapped you out of your thoughts, his mouth half full of ramen as he jabbed his chopsticks in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t like ramen. You should have said something before I ordered for both of us.”

Snapping out of your daze, you picked up your chopsticks and shook your head. “No, I like ramen.” You took a bite to prove your point. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

Keishin waited for you to eat a little more before digging for your consensus. “Good, right?”

“Yeah, really good,” you agreed. “I always walk past this place but I’ve never gone inside.”

“I was the same way. It doesn’t really catch your eye, so unless you’re looking for it, it’s easy to miss,” he said. “Then one day my grandpa took me here for my birthday and I’ve been coming ever since.”

You snickered. “Popular date spot then?”

Keishin cocked a brow. “What?”

“I mean, if you come here a lot, I’m sure it’s a go-to for dates,” you continued. “It even comes with a wholesome story about how your grandpa introduced you to it. Ultimate chick magnet.”

Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. “You know, contrary to popular belief, most girls don’t like it when you take them out to eat cheap ramen on a picnic table that’s falling apart.”

You chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the table, but I’m pretty sure I have at least ten splinters in my ass by now.”

“Yeah, this thing is torture. So eat fast and then we’ll move to the park across the street or something.”

Shoveling the rest of your food into your mouth, you ate fast while Keishin stared you down, every second that passed introducing your butt to a new world of pain. As soon as you were done, Keishin took both of your take-out bowls and tossed them into a nearby trashcan.

“Well, sucks for all those other girls then, because that ramen really is amazing,” you said when Keishin returned, the two of you crossing the street and heading into the park. 

“Told you.” Keishin smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Once in the park, which was empty considering it was dark out and most kids were in bed by then, the two of you picked a nearby bench that wasn’t splintering and took a seat. 

Drawing your knees up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs and sighed. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He let his head fall back and looked up at the night sky. “Damn, I could really go for an ice cold beer right now.”

“Well, we could start heading back now if you want,” you suggested. “The beers at the store are extra chilly since I didn’t stick my head in the fridges to cool off today, despite how sweltering it was.”

Keishin laughed. “Well, thank you for that,” he drew in a deep breath and relaxed into the bench, deciding whether to get up or not. “Let’s stay here for a while longer though.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you stared up at the sky and listened to the sounds of Miyagi in the evening. You tried to remember the last time you had gone out like this—just going wherever you wanted and doing whatever you wanted. You couldn’t recall the last time . . . or even if there was a last time.

Tilting your head to look at Keishin, you smiled at the sight of him sitting with his eyes closed, arms crossed behind his head and head lolled back. He looked happy, almost as peaceful as he did when he was sleeping.

“Hey,” you whispered.

Keishin cracked an eye open to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Thanks for tonight.” You breathed in the scent of the night air and a feeling of content washed over you. “As you’ve probably already figured out, I don’t really have any friends. I don’t get to go out like this very often . . . or ever, really.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

You giggled. “Well, considering you’re not my real boyfriend, I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” he caved. “Speaking of fake boyfriends, how’s it going with your parents?”

You let out a frustrated moan. “Oh, about as well as expected. When I mentioned I was seeing someone they bombarded me with a million questions, none of which were answered to their satisfaction.”

Keishin cringed. “So I’m that bad, huh?”

You scoffed. “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen their faces when I showed them a photo of you.”

Keishin let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me they weren’t fans of the piercings?”

“Oh, they weren’t fans of anything,” you said. “I think the only positive thing they could say about you was that you had a pulse . . . no offense.”

“Eh, no worries. At least they didn’t call me a burnout . . . then I would have started crying.”

“Hey!” You smacked at his shoulder again, managing to hit your target this time. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t pay for my therapy.”

“Yeah, well, if you need therapy I doubt I’m the biggest reason.”

“You really are so cruel to me. Do your parents know you facilitate abusive relationships?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “That insinuates I’ve had past relationships, or any real ones.”

Keishin craned his neck to look at you, eyes wide. “Wait, you’ve never been in a relationship before? Like never?”

“Nope. I don’t even have any friends, so what makes you think anyone wants to date the boring girl with the crazy parents?”

Keishin looked at you like you were some wounded animal he had just found on the side of the road. You could see in his eyes he was slowly coming to terms with just how isolating your life was. You could tell he felt bad, but the last thing you wanted was his sympathy.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” you told him. “I’m not completely pathetic, okay? I still went through my experimental phase like most teenagers do. I just had to be very sneaky about it.”

“Sneaky?”

“You know, back of a car, other people’s houses when their parents were gone. As far as my parents know, I’m untainted . . . a precious, naive virgin. I’m just not very experienced.”

“I can imagine.” Keishin was a little thrown by the direction the conversation had taken, but you were both adults and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious, so he just rolled with it. “High school boys aren’t exactly known for being great in bed.”

The two of you let out a shared laugh at that. “You got that right,” you agreed. 

“So, wait, no relationships but you’ve had sex? So you’ve never been with someone you have a genuine connection with?”

You eyed Keishin, perplexed by the sudden sincerity in his words. “You didn’t peg me as someone who cares about that kind of stuff.”

“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands, sure, but I’m not completely heartless,” he said, the eye contact he was using while he spoke sending a chill down your spine. “It’s completely different when it’s someone you care about. The experience is something everyone should have at least once in their lives.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a genuine connection with anyone before,” you confessed, unsure why you were spilling some of your deepest secrets in public, on a park bench, to a man you had only known for a couple of months. “It’s kind of hard when everyone is held at an arm’s length away.”

Without warning, Keishin shifted closer to you and placed his hand on your face, the pad of his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

“It’s not sad, not for me at least. You can’t miss something you’ve never had,” you spoke softly, worried you might scare him away if your voice was too loud or if you made any sudden movements. “No best friends, no boyfriends. Just me, my parents, and everyone else.”

Keishin looked like he wanted to say something; in fact, he looked like he wanted to say a lot of things, but despite this, he remained silent. Maybe he was worried about offending you, or maybe he was finally understanding just how different you were from other people. Maybe he didn’t like different. 

“But now there’s you.” You flashed a small smile, hoping to draw him out of whatever mess was going on inside of his head. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?” he finally spoke.

You nodded as you placed your hand over the one he was resting on your cheek and held it. “I’m not your responsibility and yet you’re going out of your way to help me. Not to mention I don’t even deserve your help. You are the first truly selflessly kind person I’ve ever met. Thank you.”

“What if I’m not as kind as you think I am?” His hands found their way to your waist and he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. “What will you do then?”

“That depends on what you’re planning on doing.”

Hands running up your sides, Keishin dug his finger tips into your skin as you lowered your head toward his, mouths inches apart. “What if I took you home, laid you down, and took care of you like a boyfriend should?” You could feel his hot breath on your face as he spoke. “What if I took advantage of your lack of experience?”

“I would say thank you,” you said, inching closer. Before your lips met, however, you stopped yourself. “But I promised not to fall in love, and I think it would be awfully hard to keep my promise if you did that.” With that, you planted your hands on his shoulders and pushed yourself away from him before he could make a decision he would later regret. 

Standing up, you collected yourself and drew in a deep breath. As soon as you had detached yourself from Keishin, you could see the fog that had been clouding his judgement dissipating as he came back to his senses. 

“I should probably head home now.” You decided, not wanting to ruin the first actual friendship you had by doing something stupid and selfish. 

“Yeah.” Keishin nodded, slowly standing up as well. It was clear he was slightly embarrassed by his actions, but you also noticed the glint in his eyes that gave away the part of him that still wanted to take you home with him. 

Trying to immediately leave what had just happened in the past, you smiled and turned to start heading home, opting to take the longer way so you wouldn’t have to take the same route as Keishin. “Good night, Keishin.”

“Good night, Y/N.” You heard him call after you, but you didn’t look back at him. Instead, you kept walking, hoping the time apart would serve as a reset on your relationship and put things back to how they had been before that night.

A few weeks ago, you would have jumped at the chance Keishin had dangled in front of your face just now. But since then, you had realized he was more important to you than someone you could just throw away with a one night stand. And since there was no way the two of you could actually be together, this was the only option if you didn’t want to lose him.

If only someone had warned you that genuine connections were this complicated. 

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #lostinthewiind #piss off your parents #ukai #ukai keishin #ukai keishin x reader #keishin #mature #haikyuu smut #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #part 4 #song fic

[cjracingpnf]

Day Two, Part 1: Let's Talk Plot Points and Cliches

As we begin Day Two, looking at the different themes, plot points, and cliches of "Act Your Age", it is important to remember that Phineas & Ferb as a show not only uses many common tropes and cliches, but also makes fun of and at them, during various points in the series. Even in the songs "Carpe Diem" and "Hey Ferb", the word cliche is mentioned, which brings additional substance to that fact.

With that, a few of the plot points, tropes, and cliches from "Act Your Age" are:

-- The biggest plot point of course is Phineas finding out through Baljeet and Buford that Isabella has had a crush on him for a long time, a secret that they decided to let out as she was leaving town (Ohhhhhhhhhh do I have thoughts about this 😠🤨)

-- Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz going through a mid-life crisis, which included a myriad of common cliches including hair-dyeing, purchasing of fast exotic supercars, jet skiing, and skydiving

-- The boys and the girls being in separate groups, gossiping about each other

-- The rather toxic teenage relationship between Baljeet and Ginger, with both the manipulative and jealousy tropes being mentioned

-- The crew re-joining to make a "romantic dinner" setting, in an attempt to get Phineas & Isabella together

-- Phineas and Isabella unknowingly singing a Duet together, "What Might Have Been"🧡💗

-- Phineas and Isabella reuniting in front of the Flynn-Fletcher house, talking together, confessing, and realizing that they've had crushes on each other (Isabella for at least a decade, Phineas since High School). This leads to a hug and a kind moment between them, and soon afterwards at the crescendo of the episode, their first kiss!

-- Other random common cliches/topics/moments include the boys always looking for food😂, the teens talking about College, and at the end, Vanessa picking up Ferb in her own Supercar

_____________________________

To keep this part short, I am only going to focus on a couple of these points today, with some of these topics to be brought up on one of the following days… And I am going to start with the big one…

I knew going into this that there were only two things that I was going to be genuinely upset about writing (the second thing will be on Day Four/Part 3), and what is so disappointing is that for whatever reason this was made into the main turning point of the episode…

Why exactly, in all that is holy and good, why did after at least a decade of silence did EVERYONE, and particularly Baljeet and Buford, decide it was ok to tell Phineas Isabella's biggest secret, that she had a massive crush on him throughout their childhood, and more importantly, feel it was ok to tell him this as she was LITERALLY WALKING OUT THE DOOR?!😡

In what world is this even remotely realistic, even marginally logical, to first keep a secret that important for that long, but then to just freely spill that secret like it was nothing, and then to add insult to injury, tell Phineas all of this as Isabella was literally about to drive away. It's like they all got hit with a green beam that made them think that this would be a good idea all of sudden. It's completely absurd and is the #1 part of this episode that I would change if I had that ability. (I could keep going about this but it's probably best for my sanity that we move on🤣)

-----

The other point I want to bring up today is a more general theme that the episode has, primarily it's abundance of cliches, both of the teenager kind and the mid-life kind. Now, I want to be clear, I do enjoy cliches, particularly of the romantic kind (so many Phinabella fanfics have cliche endings and if the story is good I'll love every single one of them!🧡💗). However, both the amount of cliche moments and the kind of in your face level of them, I don't know, in my personal opinion it didn't come off quite as humorous as it may have been intended. It's very possible that this may have been because I was looking and expecting for something slightly different, after having made the mistake of reading so many great P&F fanfics before I got to watch AYA for the first time.

In addition, particularly when it came to Doof's mid-life crisis, it felt in large part like it was done to fill time, and didn't exactly mean anything to the episode, which I understand happens in some of the P&F episodes, but it just felt more random then usual. This isn't to say it wasn't at all funny, because by itself it was, but in terms of the whole episode and what I would have expected, it just wasn't quite the same.

__________________

I know today's portion of the mini-series was a little bit down, but this is like a rollercoaster, and oh am I excited for tomorrow, as we get to talk about in my opinion one of the best characters of this great show!💗

Until then, Carpe Diem, and God Bless!

#Phinabella #phinbella #phineas and ferb #phineas and isabella #phineas flynn #isabella garcia shapiro #Heinz Doofenshmirtz #ActYourAge #Plot Points #Cliches #Opinion #Having Fun #Phinabella Day #PhinabellaDay2022 #:D

[fluffi]

SARCOLINE SUNSET I: WELCOME HOME, OUTSIDER :: SOOBIN

pairing: soobin x gn!reader, platonic!ot5 x gn!reader genre: fluff, some subjective angst, bits of humor, enemies-to-lovers, childhood friends word count: 4002 event: #summerscape for @kpopscape credit: @enha-woodzies​ for making the gfx for this series! show her some love <3 author’s note: i accidentally deleted this post so here is a rushed reupload. it might not be as good as the original because it isnt proof read as well but i still hope the algorithm picks it up, maybe this’ll be good for the post. Also, the second part will be coming out in 15 days. warnings: people disappearing, mentions of burning and fire (further warnings will be released in the next parts as the story gets darker)

THIS STORY IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT DICTATE JAY OR NI-KI’S PERSONAL LIVES AND/OR FAMILY.

part two ->

The blonde stared up at an intricately designed structure in awe, walking forward to touch the sides of it and running his calloused hands up and down its rusted carved wedges. It seemed oddly cliche and unrealistic, but he could feel its story. Every touch of the ceramic pillar provided him with emotion that he couldn’t bring himself to explain.

The sun hadn’t set yet, but he could make out the faint reflection of it settling in the background. The huge pine trees around him were making conversation with each other; their faint whispers and rustles providing peace to his veins.

So entranced in the scenery of such a mystical place, he forgot to watch out for his younger peer. Kicking back into his senses, he nervously called out, “Riki! You there?” His voice, usually strong and boisterous, laced fear today.

“Don’t worry about me Jay, I’m right behind you. Just climbing this fence..and..there!” Riki let out a grunt as he jumped onto the soft grass, looking at his older friend with an innocent grin.

At the sight of his buddy, Jay visibly loosened. It was clear that he didn’t feel safe in this environment, yet felt entranced to it in some way. Riki caught up to him in a quick jog before standing next to Jay, in awe at the magnificent view that they were spectating for the first and possibly last time.

“Is this…the place you were talking about?” Riki was out of breath from running after his peer. He pats the grassy patch below him before slumping onto it, crossing his legs afterward.

Jay took a seat next to him, setting his canvas satchel and leather jacket next to him. “According to the maps and books, this is the right spot. I just want to see if the myth is true.”

Riki clapped his hands in excitement and turned to face Jay. “We’re staying till the sun sets right? I want to see what the carousel looks like at night! This structure is so fascinating. It must be beautiful out here at night.”

“No, we’re walking back as soon as the sun goes down. I do not want to risk being out here at night. People have disappeared from staying too long and I wouldn’t want to worry your mother.”

Riki visibly slumped and turned back in time to see the last drop of orange dip. It was quiet for a while. The singing birds stopped humming their soulful tunes, yet the whispering trees grew louder, their inaudible gossip echoing in the ears of the two boys.

At nine at night, Riki’s mother would call Jay, heeding no response. She would do the same for his parents and his friends. The only piece of information they could provide was that Jay had brought Riki, in his words, to “a magical place”. With no other vital details they could draw from their son’s peers, Jay and Riki’s family agree to call the local police, reporting two missing people: two minors, one last seen in a brown leather jacket, and a taller one tailing alongside him. Both their hairs were dyed in a striking shade of blonde.

Summer’s heat-blasted onto your skin as soon as you stepped out of your sleek white Toyota. It was good to be back, you supposed. Although it was something that not many people would fawn over, you were ecstatic to be home in town.

Leaving at the mere age of sixteen wasn’t easy. After your parents decided that you were too good for a mediocre high school where people cared more about their body count than grade count, they immediately sent you off to a prestigious boarding school in the big city. You were given three days to pack and say goodbye to your friends, the rest of your family, your world. As excited as you were to study in the evolutionary epicenter of technology, you didn’t like how you had almost no say in this decision.

You didn’t return home from high school even after four years of studying at that mentally draining institution. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to come back, you were just so accustomed to life in the big city that it seemed pointless to return to square one. With the rest of the world finally in your grip (or so you thought), you enrolled in a highly expensive university and received a full-ride scholarship.

Perhaps that was your breaking point. Piles of work that could never be cleared must’ve got to your head. No one out there seemed to care about your mental health and well-being. The only reason you were allowed to take a break from the university and return was because of your constant breakdowns that your lecturers called “distracting” and “unethical”. You were hoping that this drop-by in town would give you a physical and mental cleanse.

There was no place as hot as home, from where you had been. The blazing sun scorched onto the road. Carrying baggage by itself was already hard enough, but this heat was immensely torturing. You struggled to carry your belongings while trying to close the car boot at the same time. Oh, a pity. You had just returned home and you were slowly turning into a bundle of disorganization, unlike your previous methodical attitude.

“Need a hand?” A familiar suede voice behind your shoulder sounded like music to your ears as you dropped all of your luggage and turned back to see…

“Taehyun!” Child best friend number one. You were looking at a once-innocent boy with doe eyes who had matured into a fine young man. His hair was dyed platinum blonde and, although younger than you, possessed a flair that was completely unlike his past self. His facial features were more prominent than ever and you wondered if all of your friends had developed as well as he had.

You locked your arms around his neck and embraced him as he took your baggage from you.

“You’re so tall now!” You gasped in awe and looked him up and down.

“Of course I am! A boy has to grow, doesn’t he?”

Speak of the devil(s), four people tagged behind Taehyun, waiting for you to notice their presence. All of them were just as tall (if not taller) than your blonde friend and stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t just the height, their hair was also in very...exciting colors.

“Can’t believe you forgot about us just for Taehyun.” Ah, that nasal voice was so recognizable. Choi Yeonjun, second-best friend. You cherished him like he was your secret weapon, a power waiting to be unleashed into your industrial world. Although older than Taehyun, they seemed to be the same height now. You couldn’t tell because his new neon pink hair was waxed slick and puffy which made him look a teensy bit taller than his younger friend. You had seen him around on social media and he was a hair-changing chameleon.

Alongside Yeonjun was Hueningkai, better known as Kai in the friend group. He was the youngest one, constantly babied and spoiled, you could say. He was probably influenced by the rest of his friends too, his hair now in a mossy shade of blonde. 

Poor Yeonjun, you completely disregarded his existence and dashed over to Kai instead, eagerly standing next to him to compare heights. The kid had grown so much, you couldn’t tell if you were contented that he was now taller than you or dejected that you had missed so much when you weren’t around.

“Hey, wait up!” Someone from behind called. With Hueningkai and Yeonjun blocking your view you couldn’t see who that one person walking next to Choi Beomgyu was.

Beomgyu, the last friend who joined the friend group. He was always a comedian and never failed to make your day. Although, he didn’t seem so smiley anymore. You figured that it was school stress and adulting getting the best of him. We all had those days; you regrettably knew them like you knew the back of your hand . Unlike the rest of his friends, Beomgyu’s hair was kept in a natural shade of ivory brown. He had never been swayed by the rest of the crowd.

There were so many things to do, so many people to see. You had missed out on most of your growing: having fun with friends, staying up late at night just to watch the stars, dancing on your balcony. You had missed the people too. The town felt different from when you had left it.

“Soobin! Don’t just stand behind, meet our friend! They just returned from the city, right?” Beomgyu ran over to you before giving you a little squeeze.

Who’s Soobin?

“Hey, I’m Choi Soobin. Twenty-one this year. I moved here a few years ago. You must have left before I showed up.” A simple and concise introduction from the blue-haired man. Maybe he was the root of this hair-dyeing trend in town (pun very much intended), as well as the height trend since he was just as tall, if not taller than the rest of the boys.

You briefly introduced yourself but that was about it. You didn’t know how to create small talk, nonetheless with someone completely unfamiliar to you.

Later that day, you wondered if he had replaced you, become another guardian in the friend group. As one of the oldest, you and Yeonjun were always known as the parents of your three “kids”, but Soobin seemed to take care of them equally well. Throughout the day, you watched his every action, how he helped Beomgyu with homework, how he styled Kai’s hair, how he treated Taehyun to his favorite meal, exactly like what you did when you were still around. For once, you felt like the outsider.

Marshmallow Night had always been a tradition here. It was a five-of-you kind of thing, well, the six-of-you now. It had always been the go-to celebration whenever one of you hit a milestone, or was just held for fun. The days of joy where the only thing you had to worry about was whether your smores were burnt.

It had changed a lot over the years, you guys would add some new events to it and remove the ones you guys outgrew, like hopscotch.

You had missed most of its evolution.

Instead of being the main catalyst for today’s event, you resorted to sitting at the side as Soobin took the lead, carrying tables back and forth as well as setting up the fire in a method that the five of you had never used.

Oh, how much you loathed him. You hated his innocent-looking face that spurred out words of authority and boastfulness. You couldn’t stand how he looked so obnoxious with his bright blue hair, his dark brown eyes that held an impeccable gleam. He looked so cheeky, so mean, and worst of all, he had made all of your friends convert to mini spawns of him. Even Yeonjun, the oldest member, no longer felt like the Choi Yeonjun you once knew.

If you could, you would throw him out of your hometown, except that you seemed to be the outsider here. Anyone who walked past would see five people sitting on a huge log, helping each other light marshmallows and biscuits. They would barely notice the one person hunched over on the other side, sitting on the ground, eyes dazed and uninterested.

Occasionally one of the boys would call out to you, either hand you a s’more or ask if you were alright, to which you responded, “I’m alright! Don’t worry about me, I’m having fun.”

Anyone could also see that you weren’t in the zone, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment and be a party pooper. You ended up spending most of the time scrolling on your phone, checking school emails, and such. It didn’t feel like you were back home, it felt like you were on a vacation, on your own.

The commotion had died down, for the most part. Everyone else was either discussing school gossip in hushed voices or making the most of use of their electronic device. You were tempted to join the little heated conversation that Soobin and Beomgyu were having, but you didn’t know who this ‘Chaeyeon’ girl was and either way, you wouldn’t want to voluntarily speak to Choi Soobin.

It wasn’t long before both of them went to do something else, the only sound prevalent being the wood crackling from the bonfire and the occasional chirp of evening birds.

It was a loud, sucked-in breath that drew the attention of everyone, eyes pinned onto the instigator.

Choi Soobin, once again disrupting the peace of this curated environment. He ducked his head in apology and you were about to return to your world when Kai’s curiosity got the best of him.

“Why did you just do that?” His booming voice resounded over everyone else.

You weren’t going to lie, you were curious too. It wasn’t every day you heard a gasp like that.

Soobin looked back up, eyes wide and awake. He was excited about something but seemed to be masking it for the sake of..suspense?

“Okay. You guys know Yongsam Park right?” He put his phone down and tapped his hands on his thighs in a state of urgency.

Now that statement got everyone’s attention. “It’s the flower place outside our town, everyone passes it when they enter. Of course we would know where the place is. Why are you so adamant about it?” Taehyun inquired.

“Well, have any of you gone inside the park? Or near the landmark in general?”

“No. Why would we? There’s nothing to do there than to take pictures of boring flower statues.” You stated.

“See. You guys don’t know anything about the place.” He smirked tilting his head upwards and proudly crossing his arms.

“Could you cut to the chase and tell us what it is already?” Thank Yeonjun for his smart, impatient mouth.

Soobin didn’t answer and merely flipped his phone so you could see whatever was on it. The only words you could make out were “Yongsam...missing...carnival” and something related to the park before he turned it back, away from your view.

“You can’t just say that we don’t know anything about this place then proceed to give us nothing about it.” You rolled your eyes, disinterested in the conversation once again.

“Fine. I’ll send it to you.” Soobin rolled his eyes back as four of the other boys snickered. They loved seeing the two of you bicker.

In courtesy of Beomgyu who gave Soobin your number (without your consent), you received a news article and skimmed through it with eager eyes:

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

YONGSAM PARK CURRENTLY UNDER INVESTIGATION, AUTHORITIES SAY 3 days ago

What’s the deal with Yongsam Park? Insiders say that, although bland and boring, Yongsam Park is currently under high-level investigation for the disappearance of a few citizens. The flower-decorated park is the perfect place to take Instagram-worthy pictures and is quite harmless in itself, so visitors were shocked to arrive at the park only to find it surrounded by heaps of yellow tape.

Yongsam Park was developed by Kim Yongsam, director of My Flowers, a multi-million florist franchise that has now spread to Japan and Taiwan. In a 2015 Interview with the millionaire, he mentioned that he had created the park in the inspiration of the rising ootd picture trend, also known as the outfit-of-the-day trend, which he had initially discovered from his teen daughter. 

“I wanted to create a welcoming park for people of all ages, but I couldn’t find a suitable place to do it without the budget being drastically high. In the end, my team and I found an abandoned site and decided to build a simple structure with lower costs up there. Props to my team for the discovery of this landmark. The scenery there, especially in the evening, is stunning .” He stated in the 2015 interview with Soup Magazine.

What’s the abandoned site? With the evidence that is still standing, Yongsam Park is rumored to have previously been a carnival. Said evidence is a worn-down carousel in the back of the park, along with piles of other burnt carnival decoration and equipment. With research, Yongsam Park’s site may have once been an abandoned carnival that perished from an unknown wildfire. This may have been the primary cause of the drought that ensued in the 80s, leaving only a carousel and ashes behind. When questioned, Mr. Kim said that he had decided to leave the carousel standing behind the park due because he felt ‘drawn by its alluring glow’, as quoted.

Investigators and the local police have only enclosed the flower section of Yongsam Park because that was where the victims were spotted. They believe that disappearances took place there and are currently trying to find evidence to back up their stance. Most of this new information is not known to the public, however, Kim and his team are trying to keep it that way. The current disappearance count is seven people, the most recent case being two high-schoolers.

The carousel is still open and does not require a visitor ticket, but visitors are advised to take precautions and leave before the sun sets.

RELATED

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

FAMILY OF TOURISTS DISAPPEAR AT YONGSAM PARK, INSIDERS SAY THIS IS THE SECOND CASE OF DISAPPEARANCE HERE 2 weeks ago

JAPANESE COUPLE DISAPPEAR AT FLOWER PARK, NETIZENS CALL THE NEWS A POLITICAL DISTRACTION 3 weeks ago

“Are you seriously...telling us...that we should visit a place where people have been kidnapped?” Yeonjun gawked. “Dude, that’s so stupid. What if we die or something?”

“Don’t say that! I was just curious if you guys wanted to go since it’s so near and since your old friend is back home.”

“It’s a dumb move. I’m not risking my life just so I can celebrate the return of my friend. Not worth it.” Beomgyu huffed.

“Hey! You’re worth it, right?” Soobin glanced at you, waiting for a response.

He was...defending you? His ulterior motives were questionable and you weren’t sure if he was protecting you because he cared about you (cue the puking) or solely because he wanted to go to Yongsam Park that bad.

You didn’t reply and chose to drown out the wailing and chaos that ensued with your friends. You clicked on a related article below, curious to learn more about this lesser-known part of the park.

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

Park Jongseong (20) and Nishimura Riki (15) mentioned to their friends that they would be heading to ‘a magical place’, before disappearing for around a week. They were last spotted walking through Yongsam Park, according to anonymous witnesses. This is the third case of disappearances at the park and both teens are the sixth and seventh people to go missing.

Both families reported their children missing just two days after their disappearance. With this case being the last straw, local authorities forcibly shut down Yongsam Park despite protests from staff and management.

Parents of the two minors refused to respond when called for an interview and HYBE reporters resorted to interviewing the victims’ friends instead.

“Jay’s never been a bad kid. Yeah, he might be late here and there, but he wouldn’t skip class or fly across the country for vacation during school. I just don’t understand why he’s not here with us. He wouldn’t voluntarily disappear.” Park Sunghoon (19), a friend and classmate of Jongseong (who is better known as Jay among his friends) said.

“Although I’m not close with Jay, I know Riki personally and I know for a fact that both of them wouldn’t run away like that. Why, Riki was gearing up for a dance competition that he’s been excited about all year, and now he’s just gone? Like that? Riki has always been like my little brother, and he’ll always be. I just want him back at my side.” A teary-eyed Lee Heeseung (20) says.

Netizens have been complaining about the lack of coverage on this issue.

“Maybe Mr. Kim spent all his money on covering this story up from the mainstream public. That’s why he had to build the stupid park on an abandoned sketchy site.” An anonymous netizen commented.

Regardless, we’ll be keeping our prayers for Jongseong and Riki, as well as the five other victims, to return home soon.

“...you guys are such wimps.” That was the first thing you heard Soobin say when you tuned in to the conversation again.

How dare he say that? How dare he have the courage to call you, someone who moved out on your own at 16 to live in the big, scary world, a..wimp?

“Look, Choi Soobin. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a wimp. I didn’t say that I wasn’t interested on this trip.” You stand up and blurt out without thinking twice.

The rest of the boys are gawking at you, their mouths open wide in awe and shock. Yes, you weren’t a wimp, that was for sure, but they had known you all their life as someone who could not stand going out into the wilderness. Maybe the big city had really changed you.

“At least someone wants to go! Perfect. We can leave tomorrow at noon, bring your camping stuff!” Soobin grabbed his things and began walking away.

“Camping?” The five of you exclaimed in unison.

Taehyun, the rational member, gasped. “I, personally, wouldn’t mind going to the carousel thing..or whatever it is, but I am not staying the night. Dude, are you nuts?” The rest of you nodded your heads in agreement.

“It says in the article that we are advised to leave before the sun sets.” You point out, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible in fear of breaking this mask of false confidence, when in reality, you were terrified of this place.

Soobin turned back and eyed you down disinterestedly. “Conclusion is that we’ll bring a small backpack, or whatever you guys want to pack, and we’ll stay there until eight. Deal?”

“Seven.” Hueningkai timidly said.

“Whatever you guys want.”

You hadn’t been able to sleep last night. It wasn’t due to fear of the place you were going, rather, you weren’t too excited about having to spend half of your day around Soobin.

What were you going to say to him? You were definitely overthinking at this point.

You know, they always say that the person one hates the most is the one that they also love most. And when Soobin flipped his blue hair back or cheekily smiled, showing his endearing dimples, you couldn’t help but…

No! You loathe Choi Soobin. You couldn’t stand his smile, or his hair, or his height. That evil moonwitch.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Speak of the devil (or moonwitch), you spotted a fluff of blue hair in your peripheral vision.

You couldn’t even muster up the courage to look back at him, merely nodding your head while staring at the white wall.

“Why aren’t you looking at me? Are you...scared?” You could see him wiggle his eyebrows as he made that statement.

That was it. You turned back at him. “Yes I am. I’m absolute terrified. I can’t stand the fact that I have to forcibly spend my precious time around you. It’s like I’m about to voluntarily live a nightmare.”

Woah there, calm down. You had smoke spurting out of your ears at this point.

Soobin’s once excited face fell into one of disappointment. “Yeah, it’s a nightmare having to be around you too. Gosh, the immaturity.” He left the room in haste as your eyes shot lasers through his well-toned back.

Maybe you had gone too far with the insult. He hadn’t been mean to you at all, really.

Then again, he had been mean. He took your place when you weren’t around. Suddenly, you were determined to get it back.

“Hop on the magic school bus!”

“Shut up, Yeonjun.” You deadpanned before leaning your head on his shoulder. The two of you were finally falling back into routine and you couldn’t help but bask in this nostalgia.

You also couldn’t help but notice how Soobin kept on looking through the rearview mirror at the both of you, pupils darting away once you locked eyes with him.

Man, this was going to be a long ride.

2021 © fluffi

#「 reupload 」 #summerscape #kpopscape #kccc #hourlysoob #hybenet #moacabin #kdiarynet #kdiner #lsn.works #soobin imagines #choi soobin imagines #txt imagines #tomorrow x together imagines #soobin scenarios #choi soobin scenarios #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together scenarios #soobin series #choi soobin series #txt series #tomorrow x together series #soobin angst #choi soobin angst #tomorrow x together angst #txt angst #soobin #choi soobin #tomorrow x together #txt

[heartbreakgrill]

Love Song; Corbyn Besson

description: yeah just some good ol’ friends to lovers 😋

Your face clenched up as the nurse swabbed your nose. The urge to sneeze came over when she tugged it out, and you quickly pulled up your mask. After a round of watery eyes and the oddest facial expression, the sneeze subsided.

“Thank you,” you told her, a laugh dancing at the edge of you tone.

Her eyes crinkled, showing the smile beneath her mask. “You’re welcome. It’ll just be a minute.”

You stood from the chair, plopping down beside Zach on the couch. He was playing on his phone, but looked up when he noticed your presence.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” He watched your hand rub at your nose over the mask.

“Uh, yeah,” you chuckled.

Zach went back to his phone and you unlocked your own, crossing a leg over the other. Soon, his name was called and he snapped off his mask. Negative.

Daniel replaced Zach in the seat beside you. You bid him hello and he said, “Hey. How are you today?”

“Was doing fine before I had to have a stick in my nose,” you giggled.

Daniel laughed as well. “Yeah, but whatever we have to do to get to celebrate.”

“New normal,” you nodded.

“Y/N!” The other nurse called out from her clipboard.

You flashed your eyebrows at Daniel and stood from the couch. Slipping your phone into your butt pocket, you walked over to the table.

“You are negative, my dear. We’re having everyone who has already been tested to stay in the kitchen.”

You took the packet of your information from the nurse, thanked them again, and joined Zach, Corbyn, and Christian in the kitchen. You slipped the pink mask in your jean jacket pocket as you took the empty bar stool next to Christian.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

Corbyn perked up at the sound of your voice, peaking up from his phone. He was directly across from you, leaning his chin against the ball of his palm. You glanced around at the boys, meeting his eyes over the top of his phone.

“Hey, Y/N, when did you get here?” Christian spoke, drawing your eyes away from Corbyn.

You cleared your throat and folded your hands in your lap. They were clammy now, budding heat throughout your face. His eyes.

“Like ten minutes ago. I said I was here in the group chat,” you reminded Christian.

He shrugged, “I don’t really pay attention.”

“Rip,” you laughed.

Zach and Christian went back to their conversation about the album, the only valid topic of interest for the night ahead.

You glanced back over at Corbyn, who had shifted so he could pretend like he hadn’t blushed at your presence. You sat there for a moment, contemplating saying anything at all. Ultimately you settled on tugging out your phone again.

You leaned on the counter, scrolling through people’s Instagram stories. You swiped past Why Don’t We’s shared page and fell on Corbyn’s. It was a selfie, one he took mere moments before you sat down. You flushed red, eyes gently lifting to take in how he looked right now.

His eyes.

You forced an awkward smile at the awkward eye contact, feeling...awkward.

You looked back down at your phone. It seems everyone of the boy’s friends and family members had posted about the album. Except you. You felt slightly guilty, voicing your concerns to the boys before you. Jonah and Daniel had since joined you guys in the kitchen, talking with Christian and Zach.

“No worries, Y/N. I mean, you’re here,” Jonah shrugged it off.

Zach added, “Yeah, but if you wanna post something go ahead.

“Why don’t we just take a selfie or something?” Daniel suggested, tipping his water bottle towards the phone in your hand.

“Oh, yeah. That’s good. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really want you guys to get number 1 on the charts,” you grinned sheepishly.

Jack appeared beside you, slinging on arm around your shoulder. You noticed Corbyn shift again, gulping and eyeing Jack’s arm.

“Oh, we will, Y/N, we will,” he winked at you.

You laughed loudly at his expression. “I believe in you, Jack Avery.”

He squeezed your shoulder. Everybody moved to stand around you, Corbyn ending up too far away. You tried to see where it was he was standing, just because you felt comfortable being able to see him, seeing you. But you couldn’t.

You were attempting to hold the phone out far enough to get everyone in frame, but your arm wasn’t long enough. Everybody laughed at your struggle. Jonah took the phone from you and angled it at the group. He snapped the photo and everyone dispersed.

Jonah ended up in the seat across from you, Zach next to him where he had been. Daniel, Jack, and Christian decided to start pouring drinks, since it was nearing 11 pm. Corbyn stood there for a minute, contemplating running off the edge of the world.

He settled in the seat beside you which drew your attention from your phone. You had been captioning the Instagram post, struggling to come up with something interesting.

“Hey, Corbyn,” you weakly smiled.

He smiled. “Hey.” His voice made your knees weak.

You flashed the screen at him, pushing down the red blush willing itself to paint your face. “What do you think I should caption it?”

“I don’t know,” he let out a breathy laugh, “uh, maybe a joke. Like, track 4 was written about me.”

You shared a laugh with him, happy nothing felt stuffed of weird energy for even a mere few minutes of conversation.

“That would be really funny, but probably cause some drama. How about, like, ‘dibs on Love Song?’ Because I genuinely feel like that ones gonna be so good.”

Corbyn gulped, “I wrote that one with Daniel.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “Then, I call it.”

Red cheeks all around.

You quickly posted it. Soon, the room was engulfed with music, the 3 singles the boys had released filling the air. There was a single camera on the band, standing around the kitchen island you had once been sitting at.

You stood to the side with Anna and Kay, a glass of champagne in your hand. You had since abandoned your Jean jacket, revealing the flowery, thin strapped corset that left your midrif out in the open. You felt really hot, be it because of the outfit, your sparse interactions with Corbyn, or the alcohol beginning to take hold of your bones.

See, there was something there with Corbyn, something nobody really even knew about. In fact, you didn’t even know if Corbyn himself remembered.

You had been good friends with the entire band since they moved to LA, attending concerts when you weren’t in school and hanging out constantly. Of course, as any pathetic pining story went, you’d been in love with Corbyn since you’d met him, but his heart had always belonged to Christina.

When you discovered they broke up, you felt elated for half a second. Then, he called you in tears.

“I know we’re not expectionally close, but I need somebody. The guys, they just don’t understand.l

Since that moment, you guys had been attached at the hip. Quarantine had been boring at first, terrifying, even. But, then you’d begun to spend every waking moment with Corbyn. You were the one who suggested he dye his hair black, had helped him do it. you’d gone with him when the tattoo shops opened again and helped him pick which one looked best. You’d helped them move into their new house, helped Corbyn decorate his new space. Hell, you’d even suggested a song lyric or two when laying on Corbyn’s bed, listening to him across the room on his guitar.

And then, on your birthday a few months ago, you had gotten exceptionally drunk to drown the sorrows of lusting after your best friend. When the clock struck midnight, Corbyn had already hauled down a taxi from the bar, slung your arm around his neck, cradling your waist as he tried to get you inside.

Out of nowhere, the sky began pouring buckets of rain. You fell against his chest, laughing hysterically at the ironically cliche moment. Corbyn somehow nuzzled his nose into your neck, giggling along with your drunken haze.

You pulled back gently, the closeness emitting a fierce confidence in your gut which enabled you to lean up and kiss him. He kissed you back, but when he remembered how drunk you were, he tugged away.

“I can’t do this,” he urged, but you mistook his respect for consent as rejection.

You mumbled, “But I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t remember for a few days after, what had happened that night. All you knew was you had woken up in Corbyn’s bed, his clothes on you, a headache in your head, and your dress soaking wet over the bathtub.

Then, a few days later, when you were perched on Corbyn’s bed, watching an episode of Big Mouth, he made a joke about how, “in love you are with,” him. Your eyes widened, breath hitched, and a memory pulled itself from your brain. You suddenly stood up, his arm dropping to the comforter since it had been around your shoulders.

You made some excuse about homework, though you both knew you had finished your finals the night prior. Since then, neither of you had really spoken at all.

You clenched the champagne glass between your fingers, turning them white from frustration. You felt a hand on your shoulder, turning towards Anna.

“Everything okay?” She glanced between your eyes, noticing the tears welled up there.

You sniffled and blinked the tears away. One dribbled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Anna’s bottom lip jutted out in a pitiful expression and she pulled you into a hug. You wanted to collapse into her, sobbing your way through the album’s release. But, you squeezed your face shut and grabbed the composure that was running away from you.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tugged back and set your glass on the table beside you. You quickly strode to the bathroom, shutting it behind you.

You wiped under your eyes with a wet cloth, salvaging your eye makeup. Your eyes were still red, though, red and pupils blown up in a sad countenance.

There was a knock on the door and you tensed up. Daniel’s voice came from the other side of the door, soft and sweet.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

You already knew he had seen you crying on Anna, and probably watched you storm away as quietly as one could when they were this upset. You were taking him away from his night and that made you feel just horrible.

“Yeah,” your voice was weak.

Daniel gently opened the door. He didn’t try to hug you or tell it was going to be okay. Instead, he cradled your face in his head, pushing the hair back from your cheeks.

“I know. You don’t have to explain or try to push me away. I just know. All I can give is the fact that we wrote these songs about our lives. These songs are personal.”

You met his eyes, swimming in the undemanding answers he was laying in front of you. “What do you mean?”

He gave a warm smile, “Corbyn got really good at songwriting. Just listen.”

You hugged Daniel quickly before shutting off the light. He slung his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the kitchen. Everyone counted down for midnight and soon enough, the new songs were blasting through the kitchen.

You anticipated Love Song through the entirety of Be Myself, barely paying any attention to the song that you knew Daniel wrote exclusively by himself. Soon, Daniel’s voice was dancing through the speakers in an upbeat rhythm, singing the literal love song.

Right after, Corbyn’s voice came again.

“You came out of nowhere like a hurricane.”

You perked up, holding yourself together with your arms. Daniel caught your eyes and nodded firmly. Your eyes flickered across the room and met Corbyn‘s. He’d been watching you for a while, you settled. Though his band mates and friends were dancing around the kitchen, he was solemnly drinking his own champagne. His hair was damp from the bottle Jonah had cracked open at midnight.

“Pulled me in and kissed me in the rain. And I fell for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You found his eyes again, your face bright red. An overwhelming grin came over you. Corbyn smiled in response, a dry chuckle shaking his shoulders. He shook his head, finally relieved.

You set down your glass again, tapping Anna on the shoulder. “I’ll be back, k?”

She squeezed your shoulder again, still feeling sympathetic. You looked to Corbyn and nodded towards the back door.

You slipped outside, taking a seat on one of the pool chairs. It was dark outside, only the light from the kitchen washing through the glass sliding doors.

You heard the doors open and close again, looking up from your shoes. You stood up, breathing in deeply. Corbyn stopped in front of you, fingers squeezing each other.

You nervously smiled up at him. “So...” you ached, “so, um, I guess I really did call track 4.”

Corbyn laughed, his hands coming around to your back. He pushed you into his chest, yours going up around his neck.

“Yeah,” his face drew back, “and it was about you.”

You grinned, pursing your lips to try and push it down. But, you were tired of pushing it all down, so you let your lips widen before landing themselves on Corbyn’s.

“You could be the one, girl you’re driving me crazy.”

#corbyn besson #corbyn besson x reader #corbyn besson imagine #Corbyn besson x y/n #Corbyn Besson imagines #why don’t we fluff #why don’t we x reader #why don’t we imagine #why don’t we #why don’t we x y/n

[psychotakublabs]

“Through the Looking Glass Ruins” definitely gave us more Lumity than we all expected and the B-plot of Amity and Luz’s story in this episode was written very well. Their awkward interactions and new found feelings for each other pave a way for LGBTQ young love in animation. It also gives us Luz and Amity character development, small hints at insecurities and conflicting emotions, and normalizing queer teen romances. I have seen multiple interpretations and analyses of their plot and I wanna analyze Luz and Amity from the three important scenes: Inside the Library, Outside the Library, and Blight Manor.

Inside the Library

First we have Luz knocking on Gus’s door to use Gus’s library card. It seems this is not the first time as she admits she isn’t hiding her crush very well and Gus agrees. Although she is going to the library to find Philip’s journal on the portal, she does get sidetracked with her crush on Amity. Even the twins notice both have a crush on each other but instead of teasing them about it, they just leave them alone. It seems everyone knows Luz and Amity have feelings for each other except those two and not because they are oblivious about it. It’s because Amity is still trying to figure out her own feelings and Luz isn’t sure if Amity likes her back or is afraid of losing her friendship because of these feelings.

Amity and Luz’s interactions are awkward and anxious because they have a crush on each other. That is completely normal in young love and it’s done very well here. They become flustered and weird when seeing each other and once in close contact with each other immediately separate. This is very well written and boarded becaused it normalizes queer crushes. Usually it's either the two characters fall in love immediately with no development or it's one sided. Not with Amity and Luz as they are confused lovestruck teenagers who are navigating these new found feelings for each other. Like a lot of teens, having a crush is confusing and awkward and having two queer characters (Luz is bisexual and Amity is lesbian) having developing feelings and normlazing those interactions shows queer teens and kids it's normal and okay to have these feelings.

Most interesting in their adventures in the library is the Amity and Luz character development.

First off Luz becomes less impulsive of her actions because she worries about Amity losing her job. While at the doorway to the Forbidden Stacks, Luz reassures herself and says she will find another way. After her conversation with Amity in the Forbidden Stacks, she says they should head back and doesn't want to push Amity. Usually Luz is impulsive in her actions. In the Human Realm, she does things without thinking first and that's caused a lot of trouble for others. Because she knows Amity could lose her job if caught, Luz thinks before diving into danger so she doesn't hurt Amity. This is development for Luz because it shows her thinking about her actions before doing so and how it might affect others. This isn't the first time either she has shown this development but it's very prominent in this episode and shows how much she cares about Amity.

Amity has become more impulsive in her actions lately. Despite knowing she could lose her job in the library, she still helps Luz in getting into the Forbidden Stacks. This irrational behavior is because of Amity's feelings towards Luz. When Luz mentions a possible date with Amity to the Human Realm, she ignores Luz's hesitation to go further and rushes to get the diary, dragging Luz with her. Amity is worried about losing her job but pushes through because she knows how important this diary is to Luz and her feelings for her cloud her rational judgment (not ignoring her development throughout the series that has also impacted her but just focusing on the episode).

Outside the Library

After Amity is fired, Luz immediately apologizes but Amity stops her. Both have become upset from the incident but for different reasons. (This analysis/interpretation mostly comes from halcyonhyacinth on Twitter and Tumblr. I highly recommend following her. Awesome writer!) (https://psychotakublabs.tumblr.com/post/656478634193928192/all-of-this-this-scene-was-so-powerful-and-well)

Amity is upset because she did lose her job but also because of her conflicting emotions and actions. "Being around you makes me do stupid things and I wish it didn't." Amity was raised in a family environment that emphasised high standards and perfection. Before Luz showed up, she had to be perfect to live up to her parent's expectations and had to think about her actions as well as control her emotions. However, Luz has changed her perspectives on life and Amity's new found feelings for Luz makes her become more impulsive to help Luz. Because Luz is her first crush, she is still navigating these feelings that make her do the opposite of what she normally does. Amity has every right to be upset because she lost her job and somewhat blames Luz for it because of her new found feelings. It's not till she sees Luz cry and hears her say she does the same does she realize her feelings may not be strange and one sided. Now lots have interpreted this interaction as a confession which is a part of it. But it is more of a confession of vulnerability and confusion than love, but that doesn’t mean it could have come out as having feelings for one another as well. Another part of Amity’s reactions is how Amity has affected Luz to the point she is upset as well (maybe even thinking her words hurt Luz) and that her feelings and actions are similar. Instead of taking her frustration out on Luz, she decides to go home to calm down and think more about her feelings. Amity is still dealing with her budding feelings towards Luz and it's understandable why she is so upset both from being fired and her conflicting emotions.

Luz is afraid she will lose Amity because she got her fired. After Amity says she does stupid things when around Luz and wish she didn’t do them, Luz is so upset she cries. This is probably related to her experiences in the Human Realm. In the Human Realm, Luz’s impulsive actions have freaked out others and is used to others pushing her away. Luz is starting to develop feelings for Amity and she is scared she has pushed her away because of her reckless behavior. This is different from the Human Realm because Luz truly cares for Amity and doesn’t want to lose her as a friend. Luz tries to reassure Amity she is not the only one who acts rash. When Amity leaves, Luz pushes her insecurities and sadness aside to get Amity’s job back. We are seeing more of Luz’s insecurities from the Human Realm throughout Season 2. For example, Luz feels guilty about Eda losing her powers and goes on a life threatening journey to make it up to her in “Separate Tides”. This probably stemmed from her experiences with her mom in the Human Realm whenever she got in trouble and burdened her mother. In “Through the Looking Glass Ruins”, fear of losing Amity comes from her experience of others pushing her away and is afraid it will happen with Amity. Luz has a lot of self-blame because of her prolonged experiences in the Human Realm. However, Luz pushes those feelings down to make it up to Amity by getting her job back. Although Luz did mess up and cost Amity her job, she is willing to amend her mistakes not only to make Amity happy but because she truly cares for her even if she loses her as a friend.

Blight Manor

Amity and Emira have a heart to heart conversation about Amity’s feelings towards Luz. She confesses that these new feelings towards Luz are confusing and scare her because she has never had these thoughts and emotions before. Emira reassures her it’s okay to have these feelings since it makes her happier. After brushing her hair, Emira notices Amity is still conflicted and brings up her roots showing and offering to re-dye her hair. Amity decides to cut and dye her hair purple. This is important in Amity’s development because she wants to be independent from her mother’s control and become the person she wants to be by doing something she wants. Even if she will get in trouble or others don’t like it, she is willing to have a fresh start as the person she wants to be. In fiction and real life, changing hair styles can be symbolic of changing one’s self and a powerful message of being who you want to be. What may seem like a small step is actually a huge achievement for Amity because changing her hair, that was once being forced to dye green for color coordination by her mother, to a shorter cut and purple color is her way of acting on her own and being the person she wants to be.

Luz was ready to face rejection from Amity but was willing to at least give her job back. Luz has shown time and time again how far she will go to help her friends. She even understood why Amity would want to push her away and was prepared for it. What she was not prepared for was seeing Amity’s new look. After explaining how she got Amity’s job back, Amity notices the echo mouse and Luz catches the little pest. After seeing the echo mouse shows Philip’s first diary entry, Luz thanks the mouse and hopes they can be friends. It’s great to see how far Luz will go to help her friends, even if she is the one who caused the mistake.

After Amity notices Luz’s kindness (looking at her library card), she decides to be bold and give Luz a kiss on the cheek. Both are shocked at what just happened. Amity becomes flustered, bids Luz farewell “forever”, and wonders why she kissed Luz on the cheek. Again, Amity is still confused with her crush on Luz and needs time to sort those feelings out. Luz becomes more smitten with Amity and falls to the ground. She probably never thought Amity would reciprocate her feelings or think Amity may have the same feelings. In the Human Realm, Luz is used to being pushed away and Amity kissing her on the cheek is so shocking, she goes weak and falls on her knees. This is a first for Luz as well as she is navigating her feelings towards Amity. Both may know they have feelings towards each other. However, neither one is going to admit it for a while because these feelings are new to them. For Amity, her crush is entirely new to her and she has to figure out what they are and how she wants to move forward with them. With Luz, her feelings towards Amity are mostly about accepting the fact it’s not one-sided and to figure out how she wants to act on these feelings. Both need to navigate their own feelings first before moving further in their relationship. I am curious as to how they will interact after that scene, because both have to realize that kiss was beyond platonic and it may get more awkward for them later in the series. We will have to wait a while before getting more Lumity progress in “The Owl House”

The Lumity in this episode was written and animated very well and is important for viewers and future animated series. First off, is the fact a Disney animated series shows a main cast progressing as an LGBTQ couple in the middle of a series. LGTBQ couples/soon-to-be couples/characters in children’s animation are usually confirmed at the end of the series, never confirmed at all but hinted (queerbaiting), background characters with little screen time, villains, or killed off. It’s both unbelievable yet wonderful to see an LGBTQ couple, especially with two teen characters, become canon. Not imaginative from fanfiction or made canon in comics but in the series at the beginning of Season 2. This is huge because not many networks, let alone one as big as Disney, have confirmed an LGBTQ character and couple early on in a show. I have hope that it will give inspiration to other major studios to follow suit with more stories with representation like “The Owl House”. One of my favorite aspects of Lumity in the series is it normalizes queer young love. This includes the complexities of newfound feelings of young love and navigation of first love. There is little to no animated series, at least in children’s animation, that have characters like Amity and Luz having feelings for each other and navigating those feelings in the middle of the series. It shows queer children and teens it’s okay to feel this way because it’s normal! Just like how it is normal for heterosexual teens to have the same feelings and actions to young love. To some it may not be a big deal, but as someone who came out as a lesbian at age 13 (2006-2007) and lives off of cartoons, anime, manga, comics, and books, there was basically nothing that felt close to how my high school experiences of young romance were. It is very refreshing and hopeful to see young LGTBQ youth see a Disney show have canon queer characters and the main cast a canon queer couple with normalized and realistic experiences. How it’s confusing but wonderful to have these feelings like everyone else. “The Owl House” continues to push the boundaries of children’s animation and the queer representation is continuing to be phenominal and wonderful!

#the owl house #toh spoilers #through the looking glass ruins #toh gus #toh luz #toh amity #lumity #toh analyse #luz noceda #amity blight #emira blight #toh emira #the owl house season 2 #toh

[hes-writer]

Reign (3)

Summary: harry sees something he's supposed to have

Warnings:  angst in the beginning, angst in the middle, angst near the end

Word Count: 4881 words

A/N: @devilinbetweenthesheet-s : dont cheat and don’t do drugs, kids

Tarnish (1)  .  Halo (2)  . Reign (3) . Trial (4) .

Errors (5) . Ruin (6) . Crumble (7)

Error Taglist

____

A writer that cannot write is dead.

When one loses the ability to tell their stories and anecdotes through the mere action of swirling words together to create an imaginable atmosphere of real-world fantasy; they are dead. A writer recovering from the mundane and mediocre way of penning experiences to bounce back into what they used to be is difficult. It is easier to free fall and drown in the depths of despair. The moment thoughts and rumination fog up to form a blurry image of conviction is a warning sign, blaring at the back of their minds and sometimes even in their faces.

Harry is a writer--or, he was. Picking up the pen to style the words lingering in his head used to be as easy as blinking; quick and natural. Now, the words claw at the swell of his throat, trying to spit an adjective to describe the way he felt. It was at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be lathed into existence. It did not matter if his cognition was mingled with various chemicals aimed to be able to feel happiness.

He was sober but he had trouble placing his finger on why it was so strenuous to narrate his feelings throughout the breakup. Being high or drunk was never the answer for him. Weed made him tired and made him have a case of cottonmouth. Harry learned from a young age that he should only ever engage with alcohol if he was in a mindset and setting that catered to increase existing good vibes. He thought that maybe he was in an odd phase of perceiving the opposite, and so he intoxicated himself enough to understand that it didn’t matter if he was soaked head-to-toe in sobriety or whizzed out of his mind by the amber liquid swirling in the glass in his hand. But that wasn’t the circumstance. It also didn’t matter if he was grasping his favourite pen to write--because it was comfortable--or tapping his calloused thumbs against his phone keypad. Hell, it didn’t make a difference when he sat down and prepared his typewriter to indulge in a headspace of vintage songwriting. Maybe that would help.

It didn’t.

He had stories to tell. Everything was laid out in misty overcast yet Harry’s great ideas morphed into gentle mistakes, harsh mistakes and discoveries that had him almost ripping his hair out of the roots of his scalp. When he felt the wave of his ocean-thoughts rise and peek where the sand shifted, his fingers were ready to move and discern for the eyes to see. But with each fritter, he couldn’t seem to get even two paragraphs in to decide that it was utter shit.

Harry was old enough to understand that slumping on the wet sand was a part of life. Sometimes picking up a fistful of grains and throwing them back to the sea was a great way to release frustration. But it seemed like this plunge of his ability to write was a hole of quicksand. He was trying his hardest to displace himself as swiftly as possible but it only made his scenario worse. The muddy sand clung unto his legs like sticky glue, heftier with each effort to leave. He wanted to move on. He wanted to forget everything that occurred in the past four years. Harry wanted to erase Y/N from his life because she wasn’t around anymore to bring those memories back to sparkly existence.

What he needed to do was nestle himself into a certain depth, calmly, in order to pull a limb out and ensure that his progress on the so-called ‘moving on’ did not have any drawbacks. Until then, he cannot possibly create songs that he was well-known for if he wasn’t patient enough.

He wanted so badly to tell his side of the story. Harry craved to think as clearly as he did when he told Y/N about his plan for their future. Admitting to his feelings was a hard route. Sure, he can be vulnerable but it took a great deal of convincing on his part to immerse himself in the deepest parts of his brain to understand why he felt the way he did. He usually had the means of songwriting to help him out but that obviously wasn’t working out that good for him.

___

Harry was packing the rest of Y/N’s things in boxes to be picked up later in the afternoon. He was annoyed at first at how she depended on him to fold her clothes properly instead of doing the bundle of the work herself. But he guessed that she didn’t want to be around him for longer than she had to. To be frank, he also did not want to indulge in what might turn into an argument if they spoke about the reason for their breakup. It was just a bit confusing because he had an urge to still want her around despite their less than likely situation.

Torture. If Harry had one chance to describe the way he felt right now; it was torture. With every nook of Y/N’s side of the closet emptying into brown, cardboard boxes--he physically how much she had integrated her life with his. How much space she took up in his life. How his clothes and her clothes were so interchanged between them that he couldn’t decide if the gray pull-over was actually his or hers. And in a moment of selfishness did he tuck it away for his safe-keeping despite seeing the tag imprinted on the inside; a shop that he hadn’t set foot in so it was a guarantee that it was hers.

Her scent embedded in the thin threads of each fabric wafted to his nose; each with a new wave of memories engulfing his senses as if each piece garnered a specific scent tailored to a specific event. Like her sunflower sundress--it smelled of fresh flowers as if the print was a scratch and sniff that released a fragrance. Or their DIY-ed tie-dye shirt of pastel blue and cotton candy pink. It was a matching piece made out of the cheap dye and a simple white tee but it was theirs. Things like these made Harry want to yell in frustration because every time he thought that he was completely over her-- Y/N appears out of visibly nowhere and towers over him.

Seeing her for the first time in days was a breath of relief. She looked fine. Glowing even, and Harry did not know what to make of it. As sadistic as it sounded, he was expecting dry-stained tears and a birds’ nest of hair trampling her head. Instead, Y/N was dressed for comfort in her baggy jeans and an even looser sweater covering her body. Her lips were drawn in a thin line, giving him a nod in greeting as he gestured to the boxes littering the floor.

Harry offered to help--it was the least he could do. And somehow, silence protruded from the tense atmosphere, begging to be cut by a knife yielded through their voices nipping at each others’ emotions.

“Let go of my damn hand,” Y/N stated, her hard stare could turn Harry into stone. He just wanted her to listen before she left.

He shook his head in denial of her request, tightening his grip further. “No. Listen to me, Y/N,”

“What do you possibly have to say that will change anything between us?”

And maybe it was her fault for assuming that he wanted to fix things. The sliver of hope thinly dressed behind closed lids enabled her to think that maybe he was going to say that he wanted to make things work again. That he had broken up with Camille and he realized what a stupid he had done throwing away everything they built up to for the past four years for an affair that couldn’t quench the thirst of his desire to have a family.

Harry sighed, a shadow of mischievous smirk painted on his lips. But maybe it was Y/N’s sight in deception because she could never see Harry as anything other than sweet and kind Harry incapable of hurting a fly.

“What? I don’t intend to. We’re broken. We’re beyond fixing,”

The hitch in her breath was as sharp as the stare he was searing her with. Forcing her to please understand that this would be their last conversation--if time and fate were on their side. “You’re not something I would take the time to handle,”

“Stop saying shit you don’t mean, Harry” Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. His macho act was barely an act and more like a stage curtain easily pushed with a flick of a wrist.

“Things I don’t mean?”

“You heard me,” She crossed her arms over his chest in defence, leaning against the closed trunk. “Say what you will but our love was real. Don’t make me seem like I’m crazy. Don’t tell me that I’m a mistake,” Her voice was filled with confidence because she knew the affection that Harry diffused.

The cradles of his palm at the small of her back when they had to walk past a crowd. The subtle graze of the back of his fingers caressing the bare skin of her arm. Kisses pressed to her temple as she read a novel and swirling fingertips twirling her hair. These were acts of love that happened nearly every day in their relationship. A routine that felt different if it wasn’t done to or with each other.

Exasperatedly, Harry felt the same itching crawling up his spine. His ego ballooning into a delicate size and one more word from Y/N’s lush lips would have him on his hands and knees, begging for her back.

“This, us, was a fuckin’ mistake,” Harry’s accent thunked heavily in her cochlea, practically spitting the words out of his mouth as if they were poisonous. Ringed fingers gesticulated the space between them to emphasize how much of a misunderstanding they truly were. “I should’ve known the second things went further than planned,”

Y/N felt her heart drop to her full stomach. The feeling so nauseating that she instinctively palmed her belly over the fabric to protect her little baby from his harsh words. Even though they weren’t directed towards anyone but Y/N. She didn’t think that their unborn child deserved scrutiny from their own father.

“You don’t mean that, Harry.”

Because how could he? Not when he emulated sincerity through his syrupy voice. Not when he spent hours loving on her tummy and spoke to it like he would if she were pregnant. Especially not when every kiss from him felt like a buzz of electricity coursing through her veins because he was the main distributor of her happiness.

Harry truly was an asshole for making her hope and wonder of what the future held when he was unsure himself. He did want a family. That was a statement in all its truthfulness. What he wasn’t sure about was if he wanted a family with Y/N. He could have a family; kids of his own in his own time. But Y/N didn’t have to necessarily be the mother. So was he besotted with the concept of family and marriage regardless of who it was with?

“But I do,”

The rain started drizzling in frequent spurts, planting a fat droplet on her cheek that could be argued as a tear escaping Y/N’s eye. It hurt a lot to hear that from him. The man of her dreams blatantly denying each sugary word because his plans had changed.

“You’re a goddamn mistake is what you are,’

“Why are you. . .saying all these things to me? Are you trying to hurt me?” The shakiness of Y/N’s tone had Harry swallowing his words down his strep throat.

He shook his head in disagreement, “No, I’m not. ‘M just tryna make you see my side. So you can understand,” His head dipped to the side, softening his tone yet stern as though he was speaking to a child.

And that was one of the reasons why Y/N didn’t believe his all-too stoic demeanour about her. Harry was great at making others see his side regardless of how much in the wrong he was.

So why was he struggling?

___

Needless to say, he wasn’t very respectful towards Y/N any other time afterwards. He had unblocked her number months after blocking it at one point and demanded answers that he didn’t have the right to know. In retrospect, Harry was embarrassed by the way he acted. He did cheat on her and suddenly he was a saint because she moved on quicker than he thought she would? Unbelievable.

In his defence, the night he became the drunk caller was the same night he fought with Camille about having children; having a family they can call their own. Ever since that discussion did Harry notice a dispatch in their relationship. It was like they were aware of a missing link that had disappeared in their connection, but neither one of them wanted to be the one to bring it up. Harry supposed that now that Camille knew what he wanted (and vice versa)--she was feeling the pressure of giving in to him. Don’t get him wrong, Harry absolutely wanted a family and he thought that Camille was the right partner to build it with. However, he couldn’t help the voice at the back of his mind slyly whispering that he had forced her to give him what he wanted for the sake of saving their failing relationship.

___

It had been two and a half years since he mildly and miserably accepted that his dream family was being erased like a pencil on paper.

The first year; Harry still clung to the obscure hope that Camille might change her mind of having kids. Many fights sprouted between the two of them concluding in them sleeping at different places for weeks on end until they eventually crawled back to each other like an invisible string. The second-year; Harry brought up the idea of adoption. It was a hard choice for him as he desperately wanted kids of his own. A boy that looked like him and his love or a little girl that smiled at him with deep dimples mirroring his own.

And Harry liked to think that he was just on the edge of convincing Camille to consider the option when his tour was scheduled a few months after. A new dealbreaker was that Harry wasn’t going to be around much to watch and nurture the little bub they might’ve adopted. It was a sudden intrusion to think about since Harry was good with kids. He knew that. That was why he had three godchildren of his own. But what hit him the most was how sure Camille sounded when she yelled at him about leaving for months at a time and returning for a bit, only to leave again. Now, Harry hadn’t considered that part. But surely he will be ready to choose between a family and his career, right? When the time comes, he thought.

___

It pained Harry to admit that his relationship with Camille was dwindling down the drain. The knowledge that there was no future--the one that Harry envisioned--for them was getting more and more real each passing day. 

A late-night grocery trip was one of the many examples that had Harry rethinking his actions for the past couple of years. It was the time period where night owls arose and barely any customers littered the aisles. Still, Harry made sure to keep his hoodie up to shield his face.

Camille had an early flight to Milan in just a few hours later that day and she wanted to purchase some things to bring with her; in case they weren’t available in the country. So here they were at three in the morning.

As Camille walked ahead of him in her sweatpants and a plain tee, Harry couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker to the clothing section to his right The first-floor space was decorated with pastel blues and pinks; a stroller was displayed with a price would not make a dent in Harry’s bank account.

“‘M just gonna grab somethin’ over here, Cam,” Harry muttered as he pointed a thumb behind him. She nodded, “Meet me at the produce? Need to get you some fruits,”

Harry felt guilt thudding his chest because although he was losing feelings he thought were written in stone, Camille appeared to care for him the same way she always had.

He walked to the brightly lit area, puffing his cheek as a cute onesie caught his eye, “You’re so golden” with the word ‘golden’ printed in a shiny, yellow glimmer. He smiled at the thought of baby angel cooing at him as he tickled her tummy. Harry passed by the shoes next, picking up a pair barely the size of his palm. His mind flashed back to a conversation with Y/N years ago,

___

“I’m just saying,” Y/N took a bite of a pickle she held on her left hand, “Baby shoes have no business being that expensive,”

Harry chuckled from his place across the counter, “Babies need shoes too, love,’

She grabbed her fork and stabbed a piece of strawberry from her bowl, “I didn’t say the don’t need shoes. For tiny things, they could at least be a bit cheaper,”

Harry watched as she munched on a pickle on her left and took a bite of a strawberry on the other. His tongue poked out in a gag at the odd combination, resorting in glare and a huff from Y/N.

“You should try it instead of judging me,’

“No, thank you. Watching you eat it is enough for me,’

___

Harry craned his head at each aisle, hoping to find Camille and to distract himself from the endless Y/N related thoughts that somehow returned to his brain. He needed his girlfriend to remind him that he cannot just knock on Y/N’s door and ask her about the baby she has. If he could hold them for a bit because his baby fever was through the roof.

Locating the produce section, Harry whistled mindlessly as he searched for a blonde head of hair, failing to notice that there was a basket in front of his feet. He had kicked it, jolting him out of his thoughts in a hurry.

A man with brown hair sporting an outfit similar to his (sweats and a hoodie), chuckled at him as Harry leaned down to retrieve the gray basket filled with a jar of pickles.

“Sorry man,” Harry muttered, holding the handles up for the man to carry.

“It’s alright, it happens,” The guy had not seen his face yet, too busy inspecting the carton of strawberries.

He decided to continue the conversation, “Strawberries and pickles? Odd combo, huh,” Harry was briefly reminded of Y/N’s obsession with the two rival products.

“Yeah, m’lady loves ‘em. Had a craving in the middle of the night. She’s in the car right now with our lil bubba,”

Harry’s heart fluttered at the mention of a baby. He needed to get his rails in check. He cannot keep having his heart bursting with adoration at the mere mention of a baby.

“I’m Connor,” He said, finally facing Harry after choosing the best carton.

“I'm--,”

“Harry!” Both men turned their heads towards Camille carrying a basket full fruits and green veggies, “Got you some stuff to blend for your smoothies,”

Connor squinted his eyes at the couple and Harry internally screamed because he knew that he and Camille had been recognized. “Harry. Yeah, I know you,” The sudden hostility made Harry confused as Connor grasped his basket from him in a harsh manner, heading towards the checkout.

The rest of the time inside the store was filled with curiosities as Harry carried the paper bags towards the car, barely recognizing Connor’s figure heading towards his own vehicle. Luckily, Harry has parked only a few slots away and could inconspicuously watch Connor and his so-called ‘lady’.

Except, Camille was ushering him to hurry up as she still had a few things to pack at home.

___

On most days, Harry was used to waking up alone. Used to feeling the shiver crawling up his side, used to seeing the indent left by Camille’s body instead of her. He had grown familiar with the sudden cast of loneliness blanketing him thicker than the duvet on top of his body.

The early morning trip to the store had tired him out, paired with the overthinking of the man named ‘Connor’ that flipped his attitude towards him quicker than he could kick the grey basket with his feet. He flopped back to the mattress after washing his face and brushing his teeth. It was noon when he jolted out of bed again at the sound of his front door opening, voices filling the empty space that had Harry running towards the foyer in case there was an intruder.

His tense shoulders sagged in relief when he caught sight of his mum and Gemma, “Oh, s’just you guys,”

Both women looked up at him at the top of the stairs, “You forgot we were coming over for the weekend, didn’t you?” Gemma teased as she headed to the living room. Harry followed, walking down the stairs.

He scratched the nape of his neck nervously, “No. . . “

“Can you help me reach this, H?” Anne called out from the kitchen.

His mum gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Yes, you did, by the way. Slept through the whole morning. Good thing Camille let us in before she left,”

At the sound of a bag crumpling and squeals echoing the hollow house, Harry scrunched his nose in curiosity, briskly walking where Gemm was currently holding up tiny baby clothes in front of her. “Who’s that for?” He thought of any possible friends that had had a baby recently but couldn’t recall any.

She immediately stuffed the clothing into the bag, nervously placing a hand on her chest, “Gosh, Harry, you scared me,” Her brows went high on her forehead in alarm, sharing a look with her mum trailing behind Harry.

“Well? Did I miss something?”

“Oh, it’s for one of my friends,”

Harry contemplated on his next words, “D-did you know that Y/N had a baby?” It couldn’t be right if his sister and mum knew about his exes baby and not him, right? That’s just plain odd to still be in touch with an ex's family. His brows furrowed in suspicion as both of them declined his question.

“What? Nooo,”

Awkward silence filtered through the air as Anne sipped water from her mug and Harry was slowly putting the pieces together. Gemme dove to the centre of the couch where her phone was when it rang suddenly, surprising all three of them. Harry was quicker, eyeing his mum and sister and inspecting the emoji substituting as a name before sliding his thumb to answer it.

"Hey, Gems! Are you coming to the park? We're waiting for you,”

Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach just as the phone nearly slipped from his clutch. That voice. He could recognize it from everywhere having spent nearly every morning for the four years that they were together hearing it lulling him out of sleep. It was Y/N’s voice calling his sister who was looking extremely anxious.

He tapped on the ‘mute’ button, “What does she mean ‘we’?”

“Nothing! Give me my phone back,” Gemma tried to reach for the device but Harry held it high beyond her reach.

“I saw the picture you sent me. I told you that you and Anne didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry felt dizzy. “Connor and I got some things a few weeks ago. But that skirt is so adorable!”

One part of him was glad to hear her voice. In fact, Harry found himself smiling too, despite what he just heard. Connor. “Harry, won’t be there right? Hello? Have I been talking to myself this whole time,” Y/N laughed a little; she had a habit of talking endlessly when she was excited. It made Harry more sombre, letting his guards down and his arm in reach for Gemma to grasp.

“Hey! I'm just organizing the clothes, see you soon!" Gemma jammed her finger on the red end call, anxiously glancing at her brother, piecing everything together.

“Who's Connor?" Could it be that the Connor he met last night was the same as Y/N’s? The one who bought pickles and strawberries--one of Y/N favourite food combinations? He mentioned that he had a little girl and Y/N just called to meet his sister and his mum at the park. And baby clothes?

Anne and Gemma looked at each other, quickly deciding that for the benefit of Harry that they should tell him at least a little bit. He was looking as if he was going insane, especially with his bed head pointing his hair out in different directions.

“He’s Y/N’s partner”

Harry gulped, reeling his thoughts to a halt, “Partner? And the baby is...?” The last bit of confirmation was all he needed to lash his feelings out.

“Is... waiting for us at the park! Sorry H gotta go,” Gemma was swift enough to gather all the bags without having Harry chase after her. His state of confusion and shock was enough to render him partially speechless and immobile.

“Hey wait!”

Anne garnered his attention, “Oh, Mrs. Q from next door wants me over for dinner. I’m sure wants to see us both. Why don’t you get ready, Harry?” Anne tugged his arm in the direction of the staircase pushing him to stumble up a couple of steps.

Harry was confused. He made the sounds of his footsteps creeping up the wooden stairs, hearing his mum quietly talking to Gemma on the phone, “Elmsway Park, you said? How long till you're home? I’m not sure how long I can keep him occupied,”

With that being said, Harry was out of his house, silently unlocking and locking the door. He was dressed in some basketball shorts and a graphic tee, slipping on the first pair of sneakers he had tossed aside. Harry jogged to his car, typing in the name of the park on his phones’ GPS. The route was only a few minutes away so he decided to take his time, gathering his scattered thoughts along the way.

He parked just beside the playground scouting the trees around the premises. Harry decided that it was the perfect day. The sun was out. It wasn’t too humid and the birds were chirping on the branches. He could see why the playground was full of children running around in delight. The green patches of grass were partially filled with picnic blankets and food to be shared. Families laughed with each other as one in particular caught his eye.

It made him smile at first, seeing just how adorable the couple was with their baby. He exited the car, making sure to lock the vehicle. With his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his shorts, Harry could feel the tethered grass rubbing against his legs. As he got closer, he couldn’t help the twinge of familiarity spark in his chest, recognizing that what he was staring at was Connor playfully chasing a little girl of about two-years-old as she squealed at how close he was getting to tagging her.

Harry stood by a tree, shielding him away from view. He tried to appear invisible without seeming too creepy. He knew that it was only a matter of seconds before his eyes found the woman he had been missing, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Connor picked up the little girl in his arms, dotting pecks all over the girls’ cheeks, causing her to giggle and push his face away with a tiny palm. And there she was standing outside the raised platform of the playground, coming up to the both of them with a juice box in hand to hydrate the little angel. Connor turned his attention to Y/N, planting the most adoring kiss on her lips that made her smile so wide and the baby cover her eyes. They laughed together, looking like a picture-perfect family.

Gemma sat on the bench, flickering her gaze to the precious family in front of her and to the figure of her brother walking away from the scene. Her heart broke for Harry, and it cracked, even more, when he turned back. This time, watching Connor and Y/N cheer on baby angel to go down the slide. Both of them clapped their hands in enthusiasm as the girl hesitantly slid down the plastic slide. The smile on her face was infectious.

It almost made Harry smile, too.

___

Let us know what you thought!

Trial aka pt 4 is already up on Patreon! (link in bio)

___

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[paellaplease]

revali x reader 16 (i think?) verklempt please ❤️

16. verklempt - completely and utterly overcome with emotion

19. temerate - to break a bond or promise

pairing: revali x reader summary:  falling in love is difficult when neither of you know the end is near.

   Night had fallen by the time you mustered the courage to walk up to him. He watched the shining caps of your barely worn boots approach the other side of the campfire, sensing your nervousness as you awkwardly stood for a few beats, weaving and unweaving your fingers. 

Either his reputation as the strongest Champion preceded him, or he was completely unapproachable. Throughout the day you would chance a look at him from across the camp, quickly averting your eyes the moment he noticed. You were part of the Princess’ research effort and therefore had some questions— that much he was certain of. Yet you’ve been dancing around him for hours, gathering the will to speak only to have it snuffed out the moment he acknowledged your presence. 

Embers lifted from the flames and flickered into the night sky as you finally faced him. Revali held his tongue and gathered his patience, trying to hide the glitter in his eyes at the chance of ‘wowing’ another admirer (nevermind that you were the first). 

“Champion, uh sir,” you fumbled with the titles. The question fell from your lips so quickly that his disappointment didn’t register until a second later. “What kind of flower do you favour the most?” 

“...”

If the following silence wasn’t damning enough, the Rito was honestly at a loss for how to respond to such an inane question. Seriously? He was better than this. Others have made more important inquiries and had to wait weeks, if not months, for him to clear time in his busy schedule and reply. 

Something like this didn’t deserve attention, let alone an answer. 

“Swift violets.” He said, before rising from his seat by the fire, dead leaves crunching under the weight of him as he made a beeline straight for his tent. 

Parting the canvas, he pretends to miss the earnest wave of goodbye you send his way, ignoring the static in his chest the moment his head hits the pillow. Sleep comes quickly. 

*

A month later you meet again. 

The universe seemed to adore playing tricks on him. Crossing the threshold of his home, he catches you investigating the decorative shells hanging by his kitchen window. Amusingly, you were balancing on the tips of your toes, its placement just a tad too high.  

There’s something different this time around. You seemed more at ease with your surroundings, no longer jumping at every sound like a stranger in their own skin. The tips of your boots were scuffed with use, and the minute cuts and imperfections in your clothes spoke of days spent in hard work and travel. 

Though some things still remain the same. He holds back his smirk when you stumble forward in surprise at the sound of your name, getting straight to business once you were safe from the risk of falling over. “I believe you’re the researcher sent to assess my progress with Vah Medoh?” 

“Yes, I am.” You’re quick to snap back into stiff professionalism, he’ll give you that. The bow is low and formal, your back so still that someone could confidently rest a cup and saucer on it. An introduction spills out, followed by an apology when you realise he already knows who you are from the briefing he was given days earlier in Hyrule Castle. 

The task was simple really. King Rhoam Bosphoramus wanted a full report on the breadth of Hyrule’s offensive capabilities against Calamity Ganon. From Guardians to Divine Beasts, much had been done in the past year in preparation for their greatest adversary. Now as the whirlwind began to settle, all must be accounted for, down to the last soldier. 

Your report was just a drop in what will be an immense ocean of information currently being collated. But it was nevertheless quite vital. He wonders how someone like you was selected for such a task. 

“Let’s do our best.” You blurt. Revali could see the millions of thoughts racing behind your eyes when you decide to break away from your military-stiff posture, raising a hand in the traditional Hyrulean greeting between strangers.

The lines of your palm stretch before him like deeply-woven thread. He glances at the wrinkles and grooves in your flesh, remembering that some mystics believe such lines could predict something as unknown as the future. He can’t help but wonder what yours might foretell. 

Pressing his wing to your outstretched hand, he declared his agreement. “Of course. You’ll soon see that my ability to pilot Medoh is nothing short of perfect.” 

He can’t help it. “And no questions of the botanical sort, understood?”

The sudden playful grin you give him makes all his witty quips screech to a halt, his focus trained solely on the way your face instantly lights up when it isn't held down by strict politeness or pure nervous energy. “I’ll be sure to steer clear from them this time, Champion. You have my word.” 

*

Both of you eventually fall into a comfortable routine. Meals are made together and the chores are done quickly through combined effort. You catch on well, cottoning on to the needs of the day based on the tasks you both decide on the night before. 

After breakfast he finds his gear and yours already neatly arranged by the doorway, allowing him additional time with Vah Medoh and you the chance to closely observe. The idea of training with an audience never bothered him, but knowing you followed close behind, notebook at the ready, gave him the extra push to perform just a level better than his previous.

One more arrow, one more extravagant somersault in the air. He even maneuvers Medoh to do a complete 180, reveling in the way your mouth pops open in awe as you walk across what was once the ceiling. 

“... .... --- .-- / --- ..-. ..-.” The ancient machine complains, unhappy to be on their back. The Rito pilot pats the metal wall apologetically, watching as you excitedly flit from one end to the other, feeling quite pleased with himself. 

*

Revali dreams of a cliff’s edge.

The precipice looms before him, nothing but fog and the unknown past the point where the ground stops and plummets. Revali looks at you and feels the smooth rock of the sea stone underneath his talons; hears the sound of crashing waves in the distance. Tantalising was the mystery of the void beyond. 

The meaning escapes him the moment he wakes up. His pillow was warmed by the glow of the sun, making him realise that he had slept in. Morning was just beginning, and both of you had a full schedule of tasks to get through. 

Diverting all his mental energy to the work ahead, he scrubs the sleep from his eyes and shakes away the odd thrill in his feathers. I’m better than this, he thinks. 

His tea is still warm when he arrives at the table. 

*

Word of the researcher shadowing him gets around quickly, it’s a small village after all. Some of the Elders glance at you in suspicion, old wounds from disagreements fought with the capital in the past lingering like dye in the water. You don’t seem to mind it, too caught up in the new sights and smells of this vibrant community built in the clouds. 

The Rito children are much more enthusiastic about your presence, sharing in your curiosity by matching your questions with their own. Getting comfortable on the wooden slats of the departure deck, you happily play encyclopedia for them. 

“Were you this cute back then?” You ask, watching a fledgling hop from one talon to another in imitation of a lizalfos, chasing after their friends who were the heroes in the story, at least for this round of the game.

“I was a model citizen.”

“Not true!” One of them pipes, poking him in the side with the tiniest of wings. “Mama said you were a hennish scallion.”

“You mean a hellish rapscallion,” the eldest of the bunch laughs, screaming when the ‘lizalfos’ tackles them into the ground. 

Crossing your arms, you fix him with your best look of authority, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “I apologise but the council has spoken.” He raises a brow at your antics, feeling a little light headed at the adorable way your eyes water whenever you hold back your laughter. “Do you plead guilty for perjury, Mr Champion?”

Champion. The word echoes and reverberates, wrapping tightly around his brain like the blue scarf fitted snugly on his neck. He likes the way you say it, making him wonder about something else. 

The words leave his mouth before he can think it through. “Revali will do just fine.”

Mirth drains from your face, replaced instead by surprise. “W-what?”

“I have a name.” He ignores the feeling of his feathers standing at the back of his neck, unclenching his jaw. Relax, he tells himself. “Better for you to call me that than to continuously mess up the titles.” 

“Still working on it,” you shrug. Then, you’re gesturing for him to step into your space, leaning forward just the same like you’re about to tell him a secret. You’re close enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath against his beak. He freezes, becoming hyper aware of his heart thundering against his ribcage, not daring to move even a muscle in fear of giving his thoughts away. 

“Revali then,” you murmur, almost too soft for him to hear. 

It was only when one of the children tugged at your sleeve, dragging you away to explain the appearance of another monster you’ve encountered in your travels, that he allows himself to breathe.

*

His presence had been requested at the Chief’s office, the old, war-weary Rito regretfully informing him that an urgent message had arrived. Multiple reports had noted an increase in the signs of Calamity Ganon’s resurgence. It came as no surprise, with every Blood Moon summoning more monsters from the void, an omen that something big was coming. 

Letters from the Princess implied the worst: that she had exhausted nearly all avenues in awakening her sealing power. The Spring of Wisdom would be her last chance, and after that, who knows? The Champions were to meet again in three weeks at the foot of the mountain, to celebrate or to re-strategise depending on the outcome. 

He was never the religious sort but by the Grace of Hylia, please let it be the former. 

A headache was beginning to form as he made his way home, the idea of knocking out on his hammock for an hour or so sounding extremely appealing. The day was coming to a close, a cold breeze chilling his back as the orange heat of the evening crept its way to night. 

You’re the first one to the hut this time, brown scuffed boots positioned neatly at the doorway. Revali stares at them for a second too long, wondering if you knew your time in the village was coming to an end earlier than expected. The information you had diligently collected was finally required, a little last minute if he had to comment but such were the nature of these things. 

The mental image of you puffing out your cheeks in frustration, complaining that you would have to organise the data on the way back, was enough to make his mood perk up— just a tiny bit. Picturing you disgruntled and annoyed, just like when the markets ran out of your favourite produce, was easier to stomach than the thought of saying goodbye. 

Leaning against the hardwood of the kitchen counter, you don’t notice him enter the room, too engrossed in the list you’re making.

It's a sight he'd seen before. If he forgot about the sobering news he'd just received, then the day would feel like any other. 

The open window frames your form, making you appear like a painting come to life. Rays of light streamed from the cracks in the blinds, illuminating the slope of your nose and curve of your mouth. 

Instinctively, you tilted your head to the source of warmth, instantly reminding him of the swift violets that would bloom by the Hebra cliffsides, forever seeking the sun. 

Oh. 

The ground had finally run out, earth and sky crashing together. There was no denying it now. Inwardly, he cursed himself, following the thought past the precipice, plunging himself deeper into the truth he'd avoided acknowledging for months. The universe truly was cruel. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t see it coming. The answer was clear as day, right from the beginning of its inception. 

It's the golden hour before sunset when Revali realises he’s in love with you. 

*

Wind plays with the jade clasps of his braids as he appraises Medoh’s central control unit. He’d done this maneuver many times before, enough that he could perform it with his eyes closed. 

It was your final day on assignment so shouldn’t he attempt an action that was more daring? He tried to ask. But you had rejected the proposal outright, reasoning that it suggested this would be the last time you both would meet at the top of the Divine Beast. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you smile. “I’ll visit once the fight is over.”

“Guess there’s no harm in going back to the basics,” he mused, inputting the commands before taking a step back.

Leaning against one of the columns, you watch with rapt attention as he points the Divine Beast south. The view abruptly shifts from the towering mountains of Hebra, to the grassy Tabantha Frontier, greenery spanning for miles and disappearing into the white, snowy wall of Mystathi’s Shelf. 

You tilt your head up, eyes trained on the heavens. There’s a solemn intensity in the way you look at the sky, as if trying to ascertain a greater meaning to your existence in this world between the cover of clouds and the endless sea of blue. It never gives you the acknowledgement that you desperately want, no matter how long you spend asking it, but that doesn’t stop you from searching anyway. 

He understands because he’s tried asking well, too many times to count. Eventually the young Rito stopped looking, opting to make an answer for himself instead. 

“Do you ever get tired of it?”

Revali’s silent for a moment, mulling over his answer, before he pushes away from the control unit and starts walking towards you. “There’s no spectacle grander, and I can’t recall a time I’ve been without it. As a Rito, it was your first companion, and so long as you looked above, you were never alone.” He shook his head. “Though I guess to love something so vast and beyond our comprehension would be rather imbecilic.” 

He’s running his mouth at this point, the hum of Vah Medoh loud in his ears. “... .. .-.. .-.. -.-- / -.-. .... .. .-.. -..” the beast warns, but he continues anyway. 

“It’s far too foolish to pine for something that will never be in your grasp. So it would be best for me to realise that there’s no point in fighting it anymore. I mean, I should feel relieved by the concession that at least I’ll be remembered by someone other than myself.”

Your attentions were no longer directed at the sky, the intensity of your eyes piercing into him, seeing right through his poorly hidden deflections. “Are we still talking about the same thing?”

The urge to plunge himself over the edge and fly away by the sheer fuel of his embarrassment was beginning to feel very enticing. Trust his description of the sky to sound like a confession. “No,” he admits. 

“Then…”

Revali thinks about telling you— considers allowing himself to become vulnerable just this once.

You’re still here, feet planted firmly on the ground, within his reach at this very moment. There was nothing he wanted more than to take that last step forward, to close the gap that perpetually rests in between you both. He imagines what it would feel like to wrap his wings around you, and believes that it would be nothing less than holding infinity. 

Yet, despite this— despite everything, he sighs. “Another time.”

Almost like reading his mind, you simply nod in response, smiling as you reach out to him. He lets you take one of his wings in both your hands, the firm surety of your touch grounding him into the present. There’s no hesitation in your next words, only a promise of a thousand tomorrows lingering on the corner of your lips.

“Tell me when we meet again?”

“I swear it on my life.”

.

.

.

-

As usual, what was supposed to be a short and sweet answer became a creature of its own, demanding my full attention until it was finished. Writing in Revali’s POV is so fun, but there’s always that small bit of doubt that I can never do his character justice. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy this one.

By the way! Hello to all the new visitors to my blog. Welcome yall. This is the prompt list. I may not answer straight away, but I shall do my best :) 

#revali #botw #revali x reader #breath of the wild #writing prompt #paella writes

[niksixx]

New Generation: Meet the Kids

I know many of you have been waiting patiently for anything New Generation related, and I am happy to say I have finally completed a list of the NG kids! I hope you enjoy reading about my little characters, and I can’t wait to write a few little stories about them. 

A few shoutouts first. To all of you who have contributed to the characters’ personalities by sending in messages to my inbox, thank you. You have all made this series possible. I did my best to incorporate my own vision of the NG kids as well as your ideas to create something fun for us all. Second, a big shoutout to @pepeu-stuff for inspiring me. They have gone out of their way to draw a few characters (Farrah, Ezra, etc.) with their own interpretation and have inspired some of the traits for my characters. I truly cherish all of you, and I hope you enjoy the NG kids as much as I do.

A/N: Also, this is just a fanfiction. I tried my best to incorporate Crüe’s and GNR’s personalities into their ‘children’ but we all know kids can 100% be completely different from their parents. 🤗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meet the Sixx Kids

Nash Sixx 

Nash Sixx is the nineteen-year-old son of Nikki Sixx. He has dark hair and blue eyes with specks of green and a jawline most men would kill for. Like his father, he has an outgoing personality and a killer smirk that’s manipulated people into giving him what he wants more than once. He’s a college student that is studying music education, as he would like to be a music teacher. One of his best friends is Declan Rose, and he’s taught Declan a few tips and tricks when it comes to schmoozing the ladies. He’s also a big partier, and loves having his friends and cousins over to his college apartment. Nash’s favorite pastime though is sitting around the bonfire, glass of whiskey in his hand, while his father tells him stories of life on the road with Mötley Crüe.  

Harlow Sixx 

Harlow Sixx is the six-year-old daughter of Nikki Sixx. She has dark brown hair with clear blue eyes and free-spirited energy. Harlow and Penelope Lee are a package deal and will go nowhere without each other. She’s creative by nature, and sometimes will paint during rainy days. For a six year-old, Harlow is ridiculously intelligent. And just like her father, she has interests in photography and art.

Colby Sixx

Colby Sixx is the two-year-old son of Nikki Sixx. He has Nikki’s natural light brown hair and light blue-gray eyes. He loves finger painting with his sister, playing with toy cars, and putting together puzzles. 

Meet the Lee Kids 

Penelope ‘Penny’ Lee

Penelope ‘Penny’ Lee is the five-year-old daughter of Tommy Lee. She’s a little girl with wavy brown hair (usually in pigtails with little bows attached), big brown eyes, a love for bright pink tutus, and has a bubbly, outgoing personality. She’s the spitting image of her father, and she has him wrapped around her tiny little finger. Penny Lee enjoys her dolls, her teddy bears, and tea parties. She’s been raised to be an independent child and loves exploring nature and making pretty flower bouquets. Penelope can be friends with anyone, and at five-years-old, she’s already shutting down the bullies who make fun of the other kids at preschool.

Meet the Mars Kids

Dillion Mars 

Dillon Mars is the seventeen-year-old son of Mick Mars. He’s tall, lanky, with soft brown hair, blue eyes, and a sarcastic attitude. He’s not as quiet as his father, but he has his moments. Dillion tries not to take life too seriously, which is why he and Isaac Stradlin get along extremely well. Dillion has no interest in school, although he’s extremely smart in math and science. He’s president of his school’s mathletes club though he was pressured by his teachers and hates disappointing others. Most of his time is spent on the living room aimlessly playing his guitar,  Luckily, Dillon did not inherit his father’s bone disease, but he is a huge vodka drinker and occasionally will smoke cigarettes with the Stradlin twins and Ryan McKagan.

Meet the Neil Kids 

Katerina ‘Kat’ Neil 

Katerina ‘Kat’ Neil is the eighteen-year-old daughter of Vince Neil. Kat’s thin blonde hair is usually styled straight or into two space buns on the top of her head with a few pieces framing her face. Green eyes the color of emeralds, she’s the chick every girl wants to be, and the girl every guy wants to be with. Katerina is friendly to all, but she’ll never let anyone take advantage of her kindness. As a senior in high school, she takes pride in being the captain of the cheerleading team, a lead choreographer in the dance club, and the president of the drama club. While the most popular girl in high school could have any boy she wanted, there’s only one boy that Katerina has ever been interested in. Unfortunately, that boy is Declan Rose, the son of her father’s arch enemy, Axl Rose. 

Carson Neil

Carson Neil is the fifteen-year-old son of Vince Neil. Carson’s shoulder length blonde hair resembles his father’s, and he was gifted with a singing voice that could cure the world’s problems. He’s mature for his age, which is why most of his friends are a few years older than him. Carson can be a bit stuck up though and a bit of a prima donna. When he’s not busy rehearsing lines for his school's theater productions, Carson is confined to his room blasting Aerosmith, Ozzy Osborne, and writing his own lyrics to songs he’ll never share. 

~~~

Meet the Rose Kids

Declan Rose 

Declan Rose is the eighteen-year-old son of Axl Rose. He’s the spitting image of his father, except with shorter ginger hair with longer pieces framing his freckled face. Declan is unique in the fact that he refuses to follow in his father’s footsteps. While he enjoys listening to rock and his father’s old vinyl collection, Declan prefers hip-hop and rap music, much to his father’s dismay. Like Axl, Declan is extremely intelligent, and would decide to major in philosophy or psychology in college. He also does have his father’s temper, and while sometimes his father was misunderstood, Declan is lucky to have Katerina Neil around. She calms him down and supports his true personality, even if they have to keep their relationship hidden from their parents. 

Easton Rose 

Easton Rose is the eight-year-old son of Axl Rose. Easton was lucky enough to inherit his father’s hair color, but instead of the long locks, Easton’s hair is shorter and usually styled with gel. The eight-year-old is as stubborn as they come with a hyper and fiery personality to match his hair. He’s an athletic young boy who is also extremely personable and will talk to anyone. He’s impatient, especially when he wants his older brother Declan to help him with homework or play baseball in the backyard with his best friends Logan Adler and Hunter McKagan. Easton is a little flirt and has no problem charming ladies of any age. Easton also has a big crush on his brother’s girlfriend, Kat. 

Calla Rose 

Calla Rose is the five-year-old daughter of Axl Rose, and she is the queen of the household. Calla is the only child with blonde hair, but every now and again Axl dyes pieces of her pink (with temporary spray on hair color of course) to match the large gemstone on the tiara she wears around the house. Calla Rose is quite shy around other people, and it takes her a good twenty minutes before she’s able to muster up the courage to play with other children in preschool. Axl Rose is fully wrapped around his daughter’s finger, and it’s not shocking to catch them in the midst of coloring, ballet dancing, or playing with dolls. 

Willa Rose 

Willa Rose is the four-month-old daughter of Axl Rose. She’s a chubby baby with ginger hair and big hazel eyes. She loves making faces at her big sister and listening to her daddy as he sings her to sleep at night. 

Meet the McKagan Kids 

Ryan McKagan 

Ryan McKagan is the sixteen-year-old son of Duff McKagan. If teenage girls could use one word to describe this boy, it’s this: heartthrob. He’s tall with wavy blonde hair and a welcoming smile, it’s no wonder the girls in high school drool over him. Ryan can be found exercising (as he’s a hockey player) or running around his neighborhood five days out of the week. Ryan does smoke cigarettes and drinks on occasion, much to his father’s disapproval. Ryan tries not to take life too seriously and would have definitely picked up on some of his dad’s lame jokes. Around his neck is the letter ‘F’ attached to a gold chain as it’s the first initial of his girlfriend’s name, Farrah. Even if they have a rough relationship (thanks to Ryan being a typical flirt around other girls) he’s confident Farrah is the girl for him, so he never takes the necklace off. While Ryan didn’t necessarily inherit many of his father’s traits, what he did receive is the ability to sing. His father has taught him how to play guitar, and they’ll sit on the porch outside in the fall, singing and strumming to Guns N’ Roses old songs.

Hunter McKagan

Hunter is the seven-year-old son of Duff McKagan. Hunter’s hair is darker than his older brother’s, but lightens up in the sun. The seven-year-old boy loves to swim and skateboard (lessons are provided for free by Dillon Mars, Issac Stradlin, and Ezra Hudson), and he’s an absolute terror when he chases his family around the house shooting Nerf gun darts at them. He’s also the reason Duff cannot find his cowboy hats, as Hunter will usually steal them and wear them throughout the day. 

Meet the Hudson Kids 

Ezra Hudson 

Ezra Hudson is the eighteen-year-old son of Saul ‘Slash’ Hudson. Ezra is a bit shorter than his father, and yet could be his brother. Ezra was blessed with the most beautiful curls, and unlike his father he usually keeps them out of his face with headbands or ponytails. Ezra doesn’t have just one style, either. Somedays, he’ll dress head to toe in leather. Other days he prefers flannels and jeans, or button ups and khakis. Ezra is definitely a gamer. He also enjoys hiking, fishing, and hunting. He’s also into music, but is still learning how to play acoustic guitar. College is not in the cards for Ezra, as his dream is to form his own band. As for Ezra’s love life, he’s a total chick magnet. Unfortunately, he’s invisible to the only girl he wants: Isabel Stradlin. 

Mali Hudson 

Mali is the six-year-old daughter of Saul ‘Slash’ Hudson. She and her sister Maya were also blessed with their father’s glorious curly hair, and they’re damn proud of it. Mali’s hair is only to her shoulders, which is how you can tell twin from twin. At just six-years-old, little Mali has a plethora of hobbies such as origami, bracelet making, and flower pressing. Many of her crafts are given to either her parents or Farrah Adler. 

Maya Hudson

Maya is the six-year-old daughter (also the oldest twin between herself and Mali) of Saul ‘Slash’ Hudson. Maya has no problem wearing identical outfits with her sister, but their personalities couldn’t be more opposite. Maya loves to wrestle with her older brother and cousins (especially Declan who refuses to wrestle back for fear of hurting her) as well as having interests in dinosaurs, rock climbing, karate, and reptiles (she convinced her family to adopt two snakes and a lizard). 

Meet the Stradlin Kids 

Isaac Stradlin 

Issac Stradlin is the seventeen-year-old son of Izzy Stradlin. With dark shaggy hair, bright eyes, sharp jaw and toned body, Isaac comes off as intimidating at first glance. He can be intense about the things he is passionate about (music, poetry, history) but more often than not Isaac is laidback and easygoing. Isaac’s musical knowledge comes from what his father has taught him through the years, and he’s incredibly talented when it comes to playing instruments such as guitar, drums, keyboard, flute, and trumpet. He doesn’t particularly enjoy his father’s dark and gloomy style of dress that includes black jeans, black button ups, and even black hats, as he feels more comfortable in sweatpants and tank tops. As Isaac is the only boy that doesn’t mind babysitting and playing with the little girls, he has accidentally found himself a fan club whose members consist of Penny Lee, Calla Rose, Harlow Sixx, and twins Mali and Maya Hudson. 

Isabel Stradlin 

Isabel Stradlin is the seventeen-year-old daughter of Izzy Stradlin and the younger of the two between her and her twin brother, Isaac. Isabel marches to the beat of her own drum and has what most would call a ‘bone to pick with the world’ attitude. Isabel has had many different styles, but her current wardrobe is grunge. Isabel considers herself a humanitarian, constantly joining in protests while simultaneously volunteering at homeless shelters and soup kitchens. Because of her compassionate heart, it’s no secret that she and Farrah Adler are inseparable. Isabel would inherit her father’s artistic ability, but her art would range from pottery to graffiti portraits. 

Meet the Adler Kids 

Farrah Adler 

Farrah Adler is the sixteen-year-old daughter of Steven Adler. Her blonde hair is mostly straight with a few layers here and there, and she has the same vibrant and playful eyes as her father. Farrah’s style is mostly hippie influenced (but on occasion she can rock a leather jacket and bandana), and she has more of a laid back personality, something she absolutely did NOT get from her dad. As someone who treasures the beauty of the Earth and its creatures, Farrah would join in rallies such as ‘save the sea turtles’ and volunteer at animal hospitals, where she discovered her calling as a veterinarian. Oh, and she’s 100% vegetarian. Farrah has a peaceful aura, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she enjoys yoga, astrology, essential oils, journaling, and smoking weed. She also has an on-again-off-again relationship with Ryan McKagan, who she drags to many wildlife rallies.

Logan Adler 

Logan Adler is the nine-year-old son of Steven Adler. He has wavy blonde hair past his neck, playful gray eyes, and a love for drumming. Logan inherited his father’s happy-go-lucky spirit, and loves to meddle into his sister’s business when he’s not playing sports or building legos. He definitely is the class clown and loves being the center of attention, which usually results in him being sent to the principal’s office. He’s a jokester, a prankster, and loves getting into trouble.

#niksixx new generation kids #motley crue fanfiction #guns n roses fanfiction #motley crue imagines #guns n roses imagine #nikki sixx #vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #axl rose #saul hudson #steven adler #duff mckagan #izzy stradlin #gnr fanfic #motley crue fanfic #80s fanfic

[amydancepants-peralta]

Okay hi! Don’t mind me just jumping back onto my AU wagon with a Bodyguard!Jake fic inspired by The West Wing that absolutely nobody asked for but I couldn’t help but write ... 😎🚨 anyway it’s called let down your guard and you can find it on under the cut or on ao3! 

let down your guard 

chapter one: there’s so much that you just don’t see 

There are a collection of nuclei in the temporal lobe of the brain known as the amygdala, that are best known for their role in sparking the fight or flight reaction in most people when met with emotions like fear.  Amy had read about it once, in a medical journal that she’d found at Rosa’s house (it’s presence on her coffee table, to this day, remains unexplained).  According to the article; once the amygdala sparks, your brain’s ability to retain memory increases, and in hindsight can make a patch of time feel as though it has stretched on forever.

As she stands in the world’s slowest elevator at Medstar Washington Hospital this evening, with her heart smashing against her ribcage and her toes tapping against the faded linoleum floor; Amy is certain that her amygdala has kicked into overdrive.  

Panicking, her frantic mind keeps bouncing around between the urges to run like hell and stay until the bitter end, and it definitely isn’t like Amy because she’s never run away from a fight, but maybe there’s a part of her that already knows that what could happen next has the potential to change everything. 

Her eyes remain glued to the squares inset along the top of the car, their white laminate long since turned a faded yellow; the number eleven scratched out almost to the point of non-existence.  She counts, a slow progression in her head that tries it’s very best at blocking out the thoughts racing around - the thoughts that keep telling her that she might have just lost the greatest thing to happen to her before it could ever really happen - and she can’t bear to look at her watch right now, but she’s positive that three minutes pass before the dim light behind the number four decides to amble it’s way towards five.  

“Shots were fired in a store on 14th Street,” was the message she’d received, a mere half an hour ago (also, approximately the time she’d gotten on this damn elevator).  Boyle’s pale face, and a choked out number.  “Room 9554.”  The rest is muddled - she knows she started running; remembers hearing Terry call out to her departing figure, and she’s pretty sure her purse is somewhere back at the theatre lobby - but there was a force stronger than anything she can label that was pulling her to the hospital, and in that moment Amy had absolutely no intention of stopping.  

The squares for six and seven remains mute yet eight comes to life, and the knots in her stomach begin to clench even tighter.  There’s a mantra that’s been playing in the back of her mind - from the very moment she’d stepped into the lobby and saw Charles make a beeline in her direction - and it takes over any other rational thought as finally level nine lights up, and the doors to her metallic prison slide open.  Please let him be okay.  Please let him be okay.

I don’t know what I’ll do, if Jake is not okay.

The sterility of the ward burns her nostrils and the clack of her heels sound vaguely like the rattling snare drums at the last inauguration, interrupting the otherwise calm environment of the floor as the numbered plaques beside each room begin to blur.  She dodges past nurses, doctors, and patients alike; and she can tell that they recognise her face (which means there’s a very good chance that this will be in the paper tomorrow), but it doesn’t matter that they know her, it doesn’t matter if the press find out about this - nothing else matters if he is not okay - and then finally, FINALLY, the numbers 9544 are before her.  

Her fingers feel limp, but somehow she manages to grip the doorknob and turn - pushing her weight against the wood as though somehow it is the reason she hasn’t been able to get here earlier - and then suddenly the only sound Amy hears is the frenzied heaving of her own breath.

The room is empty, save for a bed in the middle - stripped clean and returned to it’s regular scrutiny from the harsh fluorescent buzzing above.  A clipboard cleared of any history hangs lax from its base, and on the very edge of the mattress sits a leather jacket; the same jacket that had once hung on the back of her apartment door … and the same jacket that Amy’s fingers had gripped the edge of a mere three hours before.  

She feels her stomach drop to her feet, glued to position as her mind moves into overdrive, eyes trained solely on the scene before her as the realisation hits.  

Jake was not okay.  And nothing was ever going to be the same again.    

*

Five months earlier … 

“On to other news.  We can confirm that there has been a surge in counterfeit notes across the nation, with several states reporting projections of significant economic loss.”

Amy pauses as the small crowd in front of her transform into a cacophony of sound, pen-clenched fingers and miniature recorders thrusting towards the ceiling in desperate attempts to get her attention and break their version of the story.  Blinking, she gives them her best I’m not done yet look, and after a few beats the reporters in front of her fall silent.

“President Holt has already been in discussion with the Secret Service, and are confident that the lead they are running on will come to fruition.”

From the back, Matthews from The Sun raises his hand, and Amy gives a quick nod.  “You said there were several states reporting loss.  Do we have an estimation?”

“Presently, the calculations are upwards of 3 million dollars, which - ” she emphasises, as the sea of hands raise once again, “is why there are teams working around the clock to stop the fraudulent currency from getting into circulation.  In the meantime, The White House has released an image of the forged notes,” nodding to her left, Amy waits for the screen beside her to light up, “and the differences are clearly distinguishable.”

The room falls quiet as the reporters all turn their attention to the image, and Amy watches as they all slowly turn back to her with varying expressions of confusion.  Suppressing a sigh, she uses the remote in her hand to zoom in on the imitation of the offical seal, the same one that is on every U.S. dollar bill, and undoubtedly in the pocket or purse of every single person here.  Not a day goes by that she doesn’t wish that Latin would finally wake up from its long nap (or it’s conquiescamus, as it were).  “Pluribus.  There are two Rs.”  She waits a beat, and continues in a dry tone.  “There should only be one.”

To her right, Ginns from The Examiner clears his throat; glancing up at Amy to ensure he has her attention before flipping open his notebook.  The Chicago-born columnist was unashamed in his opinion - as were his loyal followers - and his coverage of Holt’s campaign had leant towards unfavourable.  With a tight smile, Amy swallows the urge to scream at whatever was about to come next.  “Yeah, so - with regards to the Secret Service.  After his inauguration, President Holt elected a new head of the Presidential Detail, a .. ” pausing, Ginns refers to his notes, creasing his brow.   “Rosa Dye-az.”  

Pushing her tongue against the back of her teeth, Amy wills herself not to interrupt and correct Ginns’ pronunciation, waiting for some kind of sign of potential redemption.  Instead, he leans forward and continues.  

“Apart from what has already been published, her history and previous credentials appear to be incredibly difficult to correlate.  Given her obvious reluctance to divulge anything to the American public, and the fact that this role has never been held by a female prior to today, what reassurance can we the people have that Miss Dye-az was the best choice?”

Feeling her back teeth begin to grind together, Amy takes a measured breath before fixing Ginns with a steely gaze.  Questions such as these have been a common denominator since Holt was sworn in over a month ago, particularly due to choosing Olivia Crawford as his VP; and while expected, the overwhelmingly misogynistic responses were beginning to wear thin.

“I can assure you, Mr Ginns, that President Holt’s vetting process for all roles was incredibly thorough - and Ms Dee-az,”  she pauses, raising a singular brow, “remained incredibly co-operative throughout.  We cannot bow to the curiosities of the general public on every request for detail, or we’d never stop.  After all, the public continues to let you write for one of D.C’s most prolific news journals without knowing the details of your Christmas Card list, and somehow the world continues to spin.”

Ginns’ responding eye roll is poorly concealed, and Amy’s fingernails begin to dig into the edge of her podium.  “Furthermore, I would suggest that despite Ms Diaz having a uterus, the bar set by her predecessors will continue to ascend.  One could even argue that the lack of … other certain parts of the human anatomy will only assist in keeping a clear head in the most intense of situations.”

The reporter shifts uncomfortably in his seat, blessedly silent in his rebuttal, and Amy directs the end of her statement towards the rest of the crowd.  “President Holt and his administration are aware that a small percentage of the public lack confidence in the roles he has filled.  Criticism is necessary, and welcome.  But unmerited accusations regarding a person’s ability based entirely on their sex is where he draws the line.”  Slamming the file in front of her closed, Amy takes a step back before leaning closer to the microphone, delivering her final line.  “That concludes the presidential briefing for today.  Thank you.”

Terry hovers by the doorway as Amy exits, his leather yoked suspenders proudly displaying the commemorative pin gifted to him upon being sworn in as the president’s Chief of Staff, and he cocks his head towards her as they move swiftly down the corridor towards Amy’s office.  “Interesting briefing you held there, Santiago.”

“You mis-pronounced psychotic, Ter-bear,” interjects Gina as she passes them both, head already bowed down to her cellphone before either can respond.  

Already feeling defensive, Amy shakes her head quickly, raising one hand to gesture at the room she’d just departed.  “We’ve been fielding commentary like that since the early days of the campaign, Terry.  At some point, we just need to point out the baselessness of their remarks, and remind them that there simply isn’t a place for it in modern society.”

Raising his hands in surrender, Terry shrugs.  “Don’t get me wrong.  Terry hates closed minded attitudes.  As do the rest of the cabinet.  I just find it fascinating to watch how close our new Press Secretary came to literally biting a reporter’s head off.”

“Ugh.  I’m fairly certain it would just pop like a balloon.  Full of hot air and not much else.”

Nodding, Terry points in the direction of Amy’s office.  “You might be onto something there.  Heads up, though - I saw Diaz making a beeline to your office just as you were wrapping things up.”  He pauses, shoving his hands into his pockets while giving her the side-eye.  “Terry wishes you luck.”

Smiling at an intern as they hand her an updated schedule, Amy casts a quick glance down the hallway and grimaces.  “Well, at least she hasn’t gone straight to grinding her axe.” 

“I didn’t see both hands, but let’s assume you’re right.”

Throwing Terry an exasperated glance, Amy bids him farewell before moving towards her office, deliberately taking on a confident stride as she squares her shoulders in preparation for confrontation.  

With her jet black curly hair and the zero fucks aura surrounding her, most members of the team had learned on their own that Special Agent Rosa Diaz was not somebody to be trifled with.  Not meeting until the last couple of months of Holt’s campaign, Amy had spent the first few weeks largely being ignored by Diaz - until one afternoon, when a particularly vocal protester tried to pull Amy in for a debate, only to be met by Rosa’s steely glare and the unspoken promise of worse to come.  She’d muttered, on their way back to the car, that they needed to have each other backs; and over time their working relationship had grown into a something closer to friendship.  

(A friend that occasionally intimidates you with their intensity, but a friend all the same.)

With her trademark leather jacket covering her like a second skin Rosa is easy to point out in the busy walkway, but it’s the two men standing with her that captures Amy’s attention as she draws near.  One was tall with a distinctive profile; the other slightly shorter, and sporting a hairstyle that looked like it could survive a hurricane.  Although the taller one wore shades, Amy could tell that both of them were casing their environment, taking in their surroundings with a stern exterior that gave away exactly who they were.  

These men were Secret Service, and for some reason they were standing outside her office door.

Her curiosity overshadowing the possibility that she may need to eat a slice of humble pie, Amy thrusts the hand still holding the schedule towards the two men as she passes Rosa, giving them her best Suspicious Face.

“Who are those guys?”

“Good morning to you too, Santiago.”  Rosa’s dark eyes follow Amy’s path around to her desk, tilting her chin upwards after a beat.  “My uterus thanks you for it’s shout-out this morning.”

“Ugh, okay.”  Returning her planner to it’s designated top-left-corner position, Amy feels her shoulders drop as she throws an apologetic look at the woman in front of her.  “I know that wasn’t my best work.  But the guy was being a jerk, and I was 100% done with the conversation.”

“No, really.  It’s fine.”  Rosa’s voice takes on no other inflection to demonstrate her approval, but Amy learned a long time ago not to read into her monotone.  “My uterus is a bad-ass.  Definitely tries to punch me from the inside out at least once a month.”  She smirks, a sight familiar to only a select few, and raises one eyebrow.  “Somehow, I still manage to keep the President and all his flunkies alive.  It really is shocking.”

Without invitation, the mystery men have followed Amy into her office, hovering along the outskirts of the room while she checks her messages, listening with half an ear as Rosa continues to go into alarming detail on how she’d personally like to deal with reporters like Ginns.  It’s as the taller of the two reaches out to investigate an award propped up on her well-stocked shelf that Amy finally looks up, dropping the slips of paper to the desk and throwing Rosa an exasperated look.  “Seriously, who are these guys?  And why are they in my office?”

 “Oh, right.  About that.  Amy, this is Special Agent Peralta,” Rosa pauses, thrusting her thumb towards the taller guard in shades, “and this guy is Special Agent Boyle.”  Clearing her throat, she fixes Amy with her typical Rosa’s Way Or The Highway look.  “They’re going to be your new security detail.”

A grinning Agent Peralta throws a tiny wave in Amy’s direction, and she lets out a petulant huff, planting her hands on the empty section of her desk.  “Rosa, we’ve talked about this.  I’m a visible target.  I go out there every other day and announce policies and updates and god knows what else.  It’s inevitable that I end up with a few snarky emails every now and then.  People need a face to complain to, and this guy’s obviously chosen me.”

“Sorry,” Rosa replies, in a tone that suggests that she’s not sorry at all.  “President’s orders.”

Damn it.  With her next refutation dying in her throat, Amy folds her arms over her chest, studying her friend’s expression carefully.  There was a good chance that Rosa was just saying it was presidential orders, knowing that Amy would be unable to resist any directive that came from her superior.  But there was equally enough chance that the request had come from higher up, and refusal of the service would most definitely land her in hot water.  

In other words, Rosa had Amy exactly where she wanted her, and there was not a darn thing she could do about it.  

“Just seems like a lot for a bunch of stupid emails,”  Amy mutters, dropping down into her seat, defeated.  With a furrowed brow, Agent Boyle looks over at Rosa; but before Amy can question it, Rosa perches herself along the edge of the couch.  

“So, Peralta and Boyle will work on opposite shifts and shadow you on your day to day operations.  Additional detail has already been arranged for your home address, and all correspondence will now be cleared through us.”

“I’m also going to need the contact information for any recent or previous relationships you may have had, ma’am,” pipes up Peralta from Amy’s left, breaking out into another grin when she looks over at him.  “Gotta weed this creep out, and you’d be surprised how often they end up being much closer to home than expected."

Blinking, Amy turns back to Rosa, the extent of her security detail only now sinking in.  “A constant shadow and surveillance on my apartment?  Seriously, Rosa … this is all coming from Holt?  Can’t I just change my email address or something?”

A silence falls quickly over her office, and Amy makes special effort this time to take note of the not-so-secret looks the two agents gave each other.  A louder protest is bubbling up through her chest when Rosa stands, her sharply manicured fingers holding a document folder Amy hadn’t noticed until now, and walks towards her.  

The heavy thud of Rosa’s booted footsteps come to a stop at the side of Amy’s desk and she places the file in front of her, leaning in slightly as the folder’s contents become clear.

Photographs.  Stacks of photographs, all of Amy, and all from various parts of her very busy week.  Her heart begins to climb its way up to the base of her throat as the images begin to blur, one shot after the other of an unaware woman as she lunches with friends, visits the gym, drives to her brother’s house and - oh god - even gets changed at home near what she’d always considered to be a relatively protective curtain.  

Leaning in, Rosa’s voice drops to a whisper.  “The boys haven’t seen those last ones, but they know they exist.”  She straightens, returning to her regular volume.  “All of these were on a USB that was delivered to us from an unconfirmed address, and arrived early this morning.  Peralta and Boyle have been pulled in to oversee the operation, and I will monitor from afar.  The detail starts from now, and ends once this Mr Anonymous is behind bars.  Is everyone clear?”

Numb, Amy nods without really understanding, the cotton of her tailored blazer feeling inadequate underneath her fingernails as she pulls the two sides closer together.  She feels foolish for disregarding the warning signs for so long, confused as to how out of all people, she is the one who’s become a target; terrified because if these photographs are anything to go by, she is being hunted … for god only knows what.    

A knot begins to churn in her stomach, and there’s a very good chance that she’s about to be sick.    

“Excuse me, Ms Diaz?”  Ramirez, Terry’s secretary, pops his head around the doorframe, startling Amy out of her spiralling thoughts.  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed in the oval office.”

“Alright, I’ve gotta go, the Powers That Be have spoken.”  Rosa mumbles, scooping up the photographs on Amy’s desk and holding onto the file with her vice-like grip.  Noticing the look on Amy’s face, she stops short of her exit from the room, tipping her head towards the two men as they hover by the bookshelf.  “Listen.  I’ve put two of my best men on this case.  Peralta especially, I’ve known since our days at the academy.  They’re not going to rest until we’ve caught the bad guy, and neither will I.  Got it?”

Amy gives her friend a tentative smile, taking her message to heart.  If there was anybody that could shut this mess down, it was Rosa ‘I could kick your ass with my pinky finger’ Diaz.  

With one final glance towards her two agents, Rosa swivels on her heel, leaving Amy’s office in silence.  The sound of one of Amy’s favourite tchotchkes hits the floor, dropping out of Peralta’s fidgeting fingers, and he cringes.  “Yikes.  Sorry about that, it just looked like one that I -”

Jumping out from behind her desk, Amy snatches the item out of the agent’s hands, running the edge of her thumb along it’s familiar curves before carefully returning it to it’s original position.  “Please don’t break my belongings, Peralta.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If I may, Ms Santiago … what Special Agent Diaz told you was correct.  Peralta and I are here to keep you out of harm’s way, and it’s only going to be a matter of time before we catch him in the act.”  Standing to her right, Amy finds herself surprised at the gentleness of Boyle’s tone, and she eyes him curiously before nodding.  

Leaning his weight against one of the lower bookshelves, Peralta slides his sunglasses off, face turning slightly more somber, and Amy blinks in surprise.  “You have our word.”  His eyes were surprisingly warm, a kind of chocolatey brown that seemed to draw Amy in, and her arms fall away from their defensively crossed position across her chest.  

“Alright.  Thank you.  This is just … a lot.”  Her stomach twists again, and even though this time it feels less like she’s about to be sick, Amy really doesn’t want to take any chances.  “If I leave this office, you two are going to follow me, aren’t you?”

“Just around the perimeters of the hallway, Ms Santiago.  And only Peralta - I’m going to stick around and see if I can trace where these emails are coming from.”  

“Consider me your shadow, ma’am.”  Jake grins, and Amy feels an odd mixture of irritation and anticipation run through her.  “And, look.  I can already tell what you’re thinking.”  Pushing his weight off of the bookshelves, he gestures vaguely with his hands.  “You’re thinking this is going to be all longing glances and secret earpiece conversations … me carrying you in my arms as I race you away from the danger, you running out of planes at tarmacs to give me one last kiss goodbye … you know, all the standard bodyguard stuff.”

Rolling her eyes towards the ceiling, Amy feels a knot of tension leave her shoulders, but she’s not quite ready to laugh yet.  “Yes.  You’re right.  That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Knew it, nailed it.  Well I’m sorry to disappoint you ma’am, but this stuff is nothing like the movies.  It shouldn’t really be any more than a few weeks, just need to catch this weirdo out and let the law take care of the rest.”  He pauses, glancing over at Agent Boyle before continuing.  “Which … will be made all the more faster with your co-operation.  Including the details of people who may have had closer access to you than others.”

Sighing, Amy presses the tip of her index finger against the middle of her brow, a nervous tick that has long since become habit.  This guy really needed to stop calling her ma’am.  “Fine.  Teddy Wells was my last boyfriend, but we broke up several months ago.  I highly doubt that he’s the one you’re looking for.”

“We really need to look into all avenues, Ms. Santiago,”  Agent Boyle interjects, and for the first time Amy notices how the beige colour of his tie is almost a perfect match to his skin tone.  

“Fine.”  Leaning down, she scribbles Teddy’s phone number onto a new post-it, thrusting it in Agent Peralta’s direction.  “See for yourself.  Better yet, invite him out for a drink.  He’s got some real interesting stories, especially about beer.  One could almost say, he’s got ‘the cheers for the beers’, you know?”

(She knows that she’s setting Peralta up for a trap, all too familiar with endless nights listening to Tedford ‘Thrills for the Pils’ Wells.  But there was much too much bravado seeping out of every pore of this guy, and he deserved to suffer - if only just a little.)

“Huh, a beer guy.   Noice.”

Amy stifles her grin, tucking her pen back into the pocket of her blazer as she heads towards the doorway, ignoring the echo of Peralta’s footsteps behind hers.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen … I have a hundred or so meetings to attend.”

“Just one last thing, ma’am.”  Agent Peralta interjects, and Amy turns in time to watch him drop one shoulder in an obvious attempt at Dramatic Effect.  

The edge of his mouth lifts into a smirk, and the ridiculous sunglasses that have inexplicably returned to his face despite the sunlight pouring in through the surrounding windows (she thinks, perhaps, entirely for the purpose of his next move) slide down his prominent nose.  “No matter what happens, you’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

The urge to roll her eyes again is almost unbearable, but she is a professional if nothing else, and so Amy puts on her best smile and nods at the suited man in front of her.  

“Won’t be a problem.”

#my writing #b99 au #peraltiago au #soz to those that aren't au fans #can't help but love them #more to come if you guys are keen

[katybirdy95]

The Spanish Princess (Season 2, Ep 1): My Thoughts.

Hello Everyone!

I guess it’s that time of year were we all collectively come together to roast another PG production. I know that a few others have already written their thoughts, but I have stayed away from them for the moment, until I have written my own opinions just so my perspective of the episode is more original.

I will try and write some things I liked and obviously things I did not and would love to hear everyone else’s opinions as well.

Warning: SPOILERS

Right! Here we go!

1) We start the episode off in 1511 - three years after the final of season 1. I guess they didn’t want to show Henry and Katherine’s wedding night (I can’t quite remember if it was shown in season 1), so we don’t see Henry’s reaction to Katherine not being a virgin. Although, it seems to me that throughout the episode, it’s hinted that Henry already knows that Katherine consummated her marriage to Arthur, but out of love for her, he’s keeping his mouth shut.

2) I think Mary Tudor is the first character in this universe that actually resembles her younger self. I feel like EF just casts any child actress and then the adult version looks vastly different.

3) I like that they have shown Mary to be an intelligent woman with a good knowledge for languages.

4) The costumes have been upgraded and some are actually really pretty, but they are a few decades too early - more Elizabethan and Katherine is sporting some Lucrezia Borgia inspired hair.

5) When Ursula Pole states that Charles V has very expensive clothes, I nearly laughed. His clothes are very plain in comparison to what Mary Tudor or some of the background extras are wearing.

6) I do like that the women in this season seem a lot more friendlier with each other, instead of seeing each other as enemies and trying to rip each other apart - I hope this continues.

7) King James has entered the building and poor Margaret looks like she’s about to jump out a window. Ray Stevenson’s accent is actually quite good and I don’t think I cringed once and being Glaswegian that’s good coming from me, but why did they make him so old. Although, I will say that the term “hen” is more what a father would say to his daughter, but given the age difference, I suppose it makes sense.

8) They are really trying to ham up that Scotland is full of uncouth barbarians, almost like the producers don’t know that Scotland is filled with varies accents, we don’t all have that gruff harshness to our voices and every city has its own accent.

9) Why would you bring a newborn to a jousting tournament, the noise alone would distress the poor thing and why is the baby the size of a six month old?

10) Oh God! Edward Stafford just tore his eyeball off, I don’t believe the real Buckingham lost an eye, I know that Sir Francis Bryan lost an eye, but not Buckingham, but I might be wrong.

11) I wish I was as calm as Buckingham when I burnt the skin of my left hand (don’t worry It healed), I mean this guy pulls his eyeball out and still has time to flirt with Katherine.

12) I guess the producers are of the opinion that eye patches are the fashion in Tudor England, although I would have been partial to a glass eye or a jeweled one.

13) Well, I guess my redheads are gone. Henry and Margaret are sporting their actors natural hair colours and Katherine’s seems to be a lot darker this season too. Why go to the trouble of dyeing their hair in the first season if they weren’t going to bother their arses for the second season and that’s directed towards the hair department and whoever made the decision to make Henry a brunette than the actors themselves.

14) Looks like not only was Isabella of Castile abusive towards Joanna, but Ferdinand of Aragon was abusive to Catherine. Can’t we just have loving, supportive parents like Jacquetta from TWQ.

15) The abuse is just lazy story telling because it has just now occurred, yet in season one, Catherine was shocked that Joanna had been abused, surely she would have been more sympathetic to Joanna given their shared experience, but they probably didn’t know they were getting a second season to develop that.

16) Katherine is breastfeeding her own baby, but I don’t know if there is a source that said she actually did this. I have heard that Anne Boleyn thought to feed Elizabeth and was told not to and after that decided it was for the best so that she could produce a new baby quicker. I wonder if we will see Elizabeth in this and see the contrast between Katherine and Anne as mothers and given how awkward the cast has been about Anne Boleyn, I’m guessing she won’t be shown in a good light, but who knows.

17) I do like that they are showing Thomas Boleyn as an adviser and friend to the king, usually Thomas only appears when Anne Boleyn is about to be introduced, but in reality Thomas was actually good friends with Henry and Henry trusted Thomas a great deal before Anne came onto the scene.

18) I actually liked the Scots scene when they are slagging off the English, it’s pretty accurate to how even Scots today feel haha. Although, I don’t like that they have reduced Margaret to a governess, but Georgie seems to have some chemistry with Ray Stevenson, but I doubt Margaret would have slapped James IV in front of his courtiers. 

19) Why do productions always use the tool of having one part of the couple refuse to have sex with the other to show that they’re struggling, like most couples don’t have sex every night and it’s a sign of a healthy relationship that if one person wants sex and the other doesn’t - for numerous reasons - then the one that doesn’t, shouldn’t have to feel guilty for saying “not tonight love”.

20) I did think that Bessie Blount was going to appear from the shadows when Katherine left the room though.

21) Why would you put a newborn on a cold, dirty chapel floor. I mean what do you expect to happen.

Okay, I will say that I actually enjoyed this episode for what it was there was some good things and some not so good, but still it has potential. There seems to be more extras as well, instead of like eight to a room like the last productions have been and I liked that the actors had more than one costume change. Also, the couples are all in matching outfits, will we see the same happen for Henry and Anne when she comes on the scene.

The strongest actors in this episode would have to be Stephanie Levi John, Ray Stevenson (mainly for the accent) and Sai Bennett. I think that’s it, the other actors were good like Ruairi and Georgie, but didn’t stand out as much to me yet.

Sorry it’s not as funny, I was uninspired.

#the spanish princess #tsp #katherine of aragon #henry viii #bessie blount #thomas boleyn #margaret tudor #mary rose tudor #personal #my thoughts #edited

[angelicmichael]

Imminent Annihilation Sounds so Dope, chapter one.

Michael Langdon x reader

Summary: Readers POV. Reader wakes up in a unfamiliar place in a unfamiliar body. She’s finally getting to chance to meet her soulmate, but who could it be?

Words: 2.2k+

A/N: here is another chapter that I’m reuploading of imminient annihlation!! I absolutely love writing this story so please let me know if y’all are enjoying reading it ♥️ please reblog or like this if you enjoyed!

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You woke up, and for the first time in a long while, you actually felt well rested. Typically even after a full nights sleep, you woke up still feeling groggy and tired from all the stress from constantly having to practice witchcraft. But today, you felt different. It was a good different though.Even though this shift in energy was strange, you definitely didn’t mind it.

You instinctively reached for your phone, since this is what you typically did first thing every morning. But It wasn’t there.

You huffed in annoyance and assumed that maybe your phone got tangled in your sheets or fell off your bed?

You opened your eyes and sat up - mentally preparing to get out of bed and start shaking your sheets out when your stomach dropped.

You weren’t in your bed anymore. You certainly weren’t in Robichaux’s or anyone else’s house that you knew. I mean, you definitely were still in a bed but it wasn’t your bed.

You were in a small room of what it looked like to be of a hotel. The pure white clean sheets, white fluffy pillows, the whole neatness and semi organized fashion in which the room was set up in screamed hotel. There also was a small worn backpack that was in the corner of the room, that had clothes littered around it. The room also had various belongings, that definitely could be considered eccentric, to put it nicely.

White candles were littered all throughout the tabletop surfaces in the room. Mostly on the nightstand and on the tables. Most of them looked like they had already been burned.

It certainly did not take long either to notice a decent size upside down black cross hanging on the wall directly across from the bed.

You immeaditly felt a rush of Nausea. You had tried to stand up, but after feeling like you might have a panic attack - you sat back down on the bed to attempt to ground yourself. Then you jolted immeaditly off of the bed and bolted to a small trash can that was near one of the tables. You threw up until you physically couldn’t anymore, your throat sore and tears streaming down your face.

Even though the change of scenery was confusing, You knew what was happening. It was finally happening, you were finally going to be able to meet your soulmate! But something felt off, and very wrong in your gut and you couldn’t shake off that feeling. Not to mention all of the strange decor in the room was making you increasingly uneasy and on edge.

In this society, everyone had a soulmate. Someone who was their other half, someone who they were meant to be with forever. On the twentieth birthday of whoever happened to turn twenty first, the people who were soulmates of eachother switched bodies for twenty four hours. Which meant your soulmate was currently residing in your body. You couldn’t help but laugh and wonder how your sisters were currently dealing with your soulmate.

It obviously wasn’t your birthday, you would know if you were turning twenty. That would mean it was their birthday. You currently sat slumped next to the trash can as you thought about this. You would think that if they knew they were turning twenty, they would atleast try to make the room look presentable? At least remove a couple candles?

Finally getting a chance to breath after being sick, you noticed a dark red pentagram on the ground next to the bed that you hadn’t seem before. It was fucking huge, you couldn’t help but wonder how you had missed it before. It was dark red, could it be.. blood? No fucking way. You tried desperately to think of another explanation, maybe it was red food dye that was meant to look like blood?

Tears were in your eyes. Who the hell was this person that you were now inevitably tied to for the rest of your life? Out of terror and instinct, you leaped up back to your feet and started to back away from the pentagram and into a corner of the hotel room. The same corner where the worn backpack was.

You tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself down and it temporarily worked. You slowly opened your eyes, and as you slowly looked up, you realized at the very far side of the room was a large mirror, next to what you assumed was the bathroom.

It didn’t register in your mind at first that who you were staring at in the mirror, was actually you. Curly brass colored hair that fell just below the ears, and piercing icy blue eyes were the features that you first noticed. It didn’t take long to notice that the body you were inhabiting was a male. A shirtless male actually. The fact that he was shirtless made you smirk. Atleast he had a nice body, even if his hobbies and interests were questionable.

After admiring your temporary body in the mirror for longer than you would like to admit, you finally decided that you should attempt to find a phone or some kind of personal belongings, so that you could actually learn about this guy.

On the nightstand there was a small black phone. Bingo! You quickly snatched it up and it seemed miraculously unlock on its own. Thank god for face recognition.

The phone immeaditly went to the home page, and you couldn’t help but frown. The home page was black, no customization or anything hinted toward any kind of personalization.

You couldn’t shake the thought of how weird it was. The feeling of uneasiness started to creep in but you shook it off. There had to be a explanation because he certainly wasn’t boring. It was clear he was doing some kind of ritual in this room, and with the looks of things, it looked like he was practicing dark magic.

You defintly felt a dark energy in the room. It hung over the space like smog, making the air thick and leaving you feeling queasy. You wish you could get out of this damn room, but, you felt it was best not too. Atleast not yet.

You brought your attention back to the phone and opened the photos, although this time you weren’t too surprised at the results.

No photos.

Sigh. You couldn’t help but think that maybe this guy really was boring, maybe he’s just some weirdo who practices dark magic and has no personality maybe?

You shook your head and kept looking. In his text messages, there was no names or contacts saved, so all of his conversations were just miscellaneous numbers. Your finger was hovering over one of the conversations when, you realized how wrong this felt.

You know you would hate if he were to go through your phone. You couldn’t help but feel bitter as you pictured him doing so. The bastard better not be doing that, you would kick his ass in the future if you found out he did.

...but wait. He had a phone. You had a phone. You had memorized your phone number... you were a fucking genius.

You reopened the text messaging app and quickly clicked the option that allowed you to message another number. You typed your phone number as fast as the speed of light and then.. froze.

What would you even say to this guy? ‘Hey how’s it going’? You think you were defintly past the point of small talk. Even if you never formally met this person, being switched in someone’s body was a whole new level of intimacy.

Before you knew it, you typed out a text and basically closed your eyes as you sent it.

‘What’s your name’?

You threw the phone on the bed and walked away out of sheer embarrassment. What if he even didn’t reply? He should be able too, since your phone has face recognition as well so it’s not like a password would be blocking him from doing so.

You heard a ‘ping!’ And you basically gave yourself whiplash with how fast you had moved to the phone.

‘Who is this?’

You blinked silently. How would you even respond to this? Straight up admitting you were his soulmate felt a little heavy, even if it was true.

‘I’m the person you switched with last night. I’m sorry for using your phone but I had to talk to you’.

You replied embarrassingly fast, but he was also replying pretty fast so.. it didn’t feel too weird.

This time you held the phone in a death grip, staring at the conversation, and waiting for a reply.

‘I don’t have time for this’

Your heart sank and the feeling of nausea started to creep back into you. How could he already reject you so soon? Did your sisters say something? Or was he a witch hunter? Surely by being in Robichaux’s he probably knew by now that you were a witch. Your thoughts started to race a million miles per minuete.

‘Did something happen’?

You sent the message and set the phone back down on the nightstand, making sure to set the ringtone to silent this time.

You wandered toward the window, which was covered by thick white curtains. Blinding sunlight instantly spilled through as soon as you pushed the curtains back, and you relished in it.

Back at Robichaux’s, you had been kept in the dark for the past week basically. Too busy trying to learn spells and work on your powers to go outside and soak up the sun.

Basking in the sunlight, you noticed that you were atleast a hundred feet above the ground. The view was absolutely spectacular, and overlooked the ocean. You were pretty sure this was a fucking penthouse. How exactly rich was this dude?

It didn’t really matter anyway, since he already rejected you before you could even have the chance to properly meet him. But you weren’t the kind to give up so easily, espically when it was your god damn soulmate. Your literal other half. The person you were supposed to be with for the rest of your life.

You decided to go back and check his phone and there was actually a reply back. You smiled, giddy that maybe, perhaps he decided to give you a chance.

‘This is the last time you are going to hear from me, so I’m going to be crystal clear. It is vital that you stay inside, and don’t go anywhere. Got it’?

You sneered. How could he be so controlling? You contemplated writing back a witty reply but you figured that wouldn’t do any good. You should atleast attempt to stay on his good side.

‘Can you atleast tell me why’?

You nervsouly chewed your nails.

‘No’

You rolled your eyes and threw the phone on the bed so hard, it bounced. Even though as much as you wanted to get out of this damn room away from this heavy energy, you had to remind yourself that there had to be a good reason for him not wanting you to leave. You don’t even know where you would go anyway if you were to leave.

You decided to send one last text.

‘Okay, fine’

You now sat on the bed, defeated, shaking and your eyes filling with tears. You were always yearning and dreaming about how it would be like to meet your soulmate. How great it would feel and how happy you would be. You heard all of the stories from your fellow witches.

You saw nearly daily at Robichaux’s how happy Cordelia and Misty were, since they were soulmates, and you wanted something like that so bad for yourself.

But, sitting here, in this guys hotel room, you felt basically everything execpt for what you had expected. You felt scared, confused, rejected, controlled, and sad.

Who the hell was this guy?

Tears were now fully streaming down your cheeks, as you now fully embraced every emotion that you were feeling.

That’s when you noticed a thin, gray Apple laptop on top of one of the tables.

‘Fuck privacy’

You muttered and went and snatched up his laptop. You smirked as you opened it.

‘What a idiot’

You said laughing with glee as you wiped your tears away. He never shut his laptop off so, you had access to everything. There was no password to be unlocked.

There was currently one tab open, which was google chrome. It was his emails. Interesting. The first thing you focused on was who the email was from. The cooperative? Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You thought it was nearly impossible to be even more confused than you already were, but, here you were.

You quickly opened another tab and did a quick google search of the cooperative.

Nothing. Nothing that seemed helpful anyway. The search results only showed definitions of cooperative, and other nonsense that wasn’t helpful. You opened the tab that contained the email back open, and started to actually read the email.

‘Micheal Langdon,’

That was who the email was addressed to. Micheal Langdon... Wait...

You froze. Your heart stopped, you stopped breathing and your sure for a solid minuete you probably stopped blinking as well.

Micheal Langdon? That meant... your soulmate was none other than the actual antichrist. God fucking damnit.

#micheal langdon #micheal langdon x reader #ahs #imminient annihilation sounds so dope #my fic

[allicekitty13]

With Friends Like These

Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

Alice is forced to spend Thanksgiving with her father's family for the first time since he and her mother were divorced four years ago. Can an emotionally exhausting day be improved when she runs into Jasper and Rosalie while Black Friday shopping?

Part 2 of Jalice- Holidays an ongoing on short stories taking place on every holiday/special day of the year. I want to make sure everyone’s favorite day is included so feel free to send me a message if there’s a day you’d like to see on the list <3

It was the most uncomfortable Thanksgiving Alice had experienced since the divorce. She hadn't wanted to come, begged her mother to let her celebrate the holiday with The Cullen's as she usually would have and allowing Cynthia to travel to their father's residence in Seattle alone. Alice wasn't a big fan of thanksgiving. Still, spending it with her Aunt Esme, Uncle Carlisle, and even her moody overdramatic cousin Edward would have been much preferable to being stuck with her father's side of the family all day.

The morning had been spent with Anna-Marie, her soon to be step-mother who'd made it a goal to bond with the girls. They'd baked multiple pies and prepared enough side dishes to feed a small army. It was rather bothersome how, despite tearing her family apart, the woman desperately wanted to be a part of Alice and Cynthia's lives. She'd spent quite some time that morning trying to convince the youngest Brandon to call her 'mom.' If this was a day for being thankful, Alice would count the girl's outright refusal as one of the few blessings of the day.

The woman's awkward efforts at girl talk as they paid half-attention to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade were almost tolerable compared to the silent treatment Alice had received from her Aunt and uncle. From the moment they had arrived, their father's sister and her husband had pointedly ignored Alice's presence going out of their way to shower little Cynthia with adoration while pretending Alice wasn't there.

In all honesty, as she sat pushing around the turkey, mashed potatoes, and stuffing on her plate, she decided that having people pretend you didn't exist was much preferable to the barrage of questions her grandparents threw her way. They wanted to know about her grades, where was she planning on going to school after graduation, did she have a boyfriend.

Alice didn't want to answer any of these inquiries. Her response about her mediocre grades in English and history earned her a look of satisfaction from where her Aunt sat across the table. She didn't have an answer to the other questions having no current plans to go to university.

The boyfriend question, in particular, gave her pause. She'd been seeing Jasper Whitlock casually since Halloween when he'd finally confessed his mutual crush. She was enjoying the relationship, letting a sweet smile slip at the thought of the boy, but they hadn't had that conversation yet. She couldn't honestly say if he was her boyfriend or not, though she was definitely open to the idea.

In response to her grandparents, she had offered a simple no. Even if she did have a legitimate answer to their question, in all reality, it was none of their business. Over the past four years, there hadn't been a single birthday card; they hadn't given Alice or Cynthia so much a birthday card. Every one of the relatives on her mother's side already knew all the answers to these questions, had her grandparents made any effort to remain in her life after the divorce, they would as well.

The barrage of questions, the silent treatment of her Aunt and uncle, Anna-Marie's ever frequent attempts to include her in conversation, and of course, the dirty looks her father kept shooting her way was almost too much to handle. She wanted to yell at her grandparents to shut up, to stand up and storm away from the table, to hop in her car and drive straight back to Forks. But as she looked to where Cynthia was sitting on her grandfather's lap sharing a piece of pumpkin pie, she knew she had to stick it out as always Alice needed to be the adult. In due time, Cynthia would learn the cruelties of the Brandon family. For now, it was best to sit back and allow her younger sibling to enjoy the innocence of her youth.

With an internal sigh and a quick glance at her watch, curious as to how much longer she would have to endure her extended family Alice turned her attention back to her grandparents. She continued to politely answer the increasingly invasive questions as she waited for the meal to end when she could go upstairs to her old room and hopefully contact some of her friends over Zoom. The thought of flirting with Jasper, explaining the complexities of contouring to Bella, or discussing baseball with Emmett was enough to keep her powering through the meal.

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Once the extended family had said their goodbyes and made their way back to their own homes, Anna-Marie had the fantastic idea of trying to bond with the girls some more before they returned to Forks later that night. The idea was that the  family , for lack of a better word, would head to Target for some early Black Friday shopping.

Cynthia had taken to the promise of new toys quite easily, rushing for her coat as soon as the idea had been proposed, bouncing with excitement as she waited for Alice to end her Zoom call with Emmett. He'd been the only friend available when she'd sent out a group message. Bella was busy watching football with Charlie and Edward, who'd apparently left his own home to join them. She'd gotten a chuckle out of her cousin's response to her text on how football was pointless and boring; it was sweet, though, how he endured the game to please his girlfriend. To Alice's disappointment, neither Jasper nor Rosalie had responded to her message; she understood they were likely spending quality time with family, but it would have been nice to see their faces, specifically the former.

Emmett's presence was a godsend though, he was always good for a bad joke and discussion of something nonsensical. He was good at distracting people from matters at hand, precisely what Alice needed after the excruciatingly long afternoon and the tedium of her old room. It made sense that the space wouldn't be the same after four years and with most of her belongings back in Forks, but she hadn't expected it to feel so... foreign.

With some words of encouragement from Emmett, a quick reminder that it was only a few more hours before she would be allowed to make the return trip to Forks, Alice ended the call with her friend and begrudgingly made her way downstairs.

Luckily, she had been able to convince her father it made the most sense to drive herself to Target. After all, she'd driven both she and Cynthia to Seattle that morning, and by the time they'd finished shopping, it would be time to make the return trip. As she directed her sister into the beat-up Lumina and proceeded to buckle herself in, she wondered if Edgar's easy acceptance had been due to the logic of the statement or in an excuse to spend less time around his children. Watching her father and his future wife throughout the day had made it abundantly clear that the siblings were not there because he missed his children; rather, their presence was a concession to Anna-Marie's misguided desire to be a part of their lives.

Once at the store, Edgar had made halfhearted attempts to point out things his fiance thought Alice might enjoy. Books on subjects that might have interested her four years prior, records that may have held her interest before the divorce. Anna-Marie had likely gone through the few belongings left in Alice's room in an attempt to form a bond between the eldest daughter and her father. The effort was, however, far too little and far too late.

It took less than an hour for the two adults to give up on trying to placate Alice turning their undivided attention instead to her easier to please younger sister. Too young to recall or understand exactly what the pair had done, Cynthia  seemed  fine looking at toys with Edgar and Anna-Marie. So, when all three backs were turned to examine a doll the youngest Brandon daughter had pointed at excitedly, Alice ducked out of the aisle headed for the store's makeup section.

As she looked over a new line of palettes from Stila, a favorite brand of hers, she thought to herself that there was no way she could afford the still-high price even at the significant Black Friday price slash. Making a move to put it back, she jumped in fright as a pair of hands covered her eyes, only relaxing when the familiar voice of Jasper Whitlock whispered "Boo" in her ear as the hands dropped from her field of vision.

With a delighted chuckle and the first genuine smile she'd exhibited that day, she turned around, leaning in to hug the first friendly face she'd seen since leaving home for her father's that morning, allowing herself to relax in his presence. Even before they'd entered into whatever their relationship was now, Jasper had always been one of her closest friends. His presence was calming and safe. As she peeked around his arm, her happiness rose at seeing yet another friendly face standing back, looking over a rack of lipsticks.

Rosalie, who's long luscious curly locks were usually the same honey shade of blonde as her brother, had dyed her hair with what was meant to be temporary black dye to really get into the part of her Halloween costume. Unfortunately, the coloring hadn't washed out completely, leaving her hair stained a silvery grey color. To her credit, Rosalie had chosen to embrace the new look rather than freak out about the mistake. Always the drama queen, she had leaned into it, cultivating a vastly different style choice choosing slightly edgier black outfits over the past few months.

"What are you guys doing here?" Alice asked, pulling back from the hug, curious as to the circumstances bringing her two friends to a Target in Seattle when there was a location closer to Forks in Silverdale.

"Mom and dad wanted a new sectional for the living room, and this was the closest Target that has the one they're looking at." Rosalie commented as she placed a few lipsticks from the display into her shopping basket. "I'm glad we ran into you. Jas wouldn't shut up in the car about how 'Alice is in Seattle with her dad. I wonder how her day's going. Should I text her, or is that weird? What if she's also at Target? Wouldn't that be fun?' Gotta say, I really wasn't looking forward to that dialogue on the way back."

Rosalie's direct response caused both of the other teens to blush, looking away from each other. "Whatcha' looking at?" Jasper asked, snatching the shadow pallette out of Alice's hands in an attempt to change the subject.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just some new makeup; I'm thinking of seeing if mom can pick it up for Christmas." She the inside corner of her lip as she spoke, not wanting to let on that her mother would not be spending fifty dollars on makeup for Christmas or that there was no way she could afford it herself. "So, do you guys have time to hang out for a bit?"

"Avoiding your dad?" Jasper asked, eliciting a sad nod from the short girl. "Well, anything for you. Right Rose?" He looked over his shoulder at his sister with a mischievous grin.

Rosalie, who now bore an identical expression, agreed with enthusiasm. "I'm sure we can find some ways to keep you entertained."

Jasper quickly tossed something into his sister's shopping basket before grabbing Alice's hand, dragging her off into the heart of the store, followed by a giggling Rosalie.

The trio found various ways to entertain themselves, such as; sword fighting with wrapping paper; Rosalie had picked up a copy of Candyland with the suggestion that they play it ironically in the cady aisle. Alice had agreed on the condition that they purchase it and give it to Cynthia.

Rosalie and Alice had held a competition to see who could put together the most ridiculous outfit strutting through the clothing department. At the same time, Jasper filmed their antics to share on TikTok.

It had been a fun few hours of chaotic activity ending in a trip to the instore Starbucks to reenergize with pumpkin spice as they wandered around trying to decide what to do next. Eventually, they ended up sitting in some camping chairs set out on display in the outdoors section watching the throngs of customers fighting over merchandise. Alice and Jasper sat drinking their Starbucks as they brainstormed what to do next.

Alice had been sitting back, enjoying the pleasant turn her night had taken, when Jasper stood up with an excited look on his face. "I've got it!"

"Please," Rosalie responded. "Do elaborate."

"Okay, the game is hide and seek with a twist. You can hide anywhere in the store; if you're found, you can run and hide again. But if you're tagged, you're done. Any questions?"

"I'm in, but you're it." Alice stood, pulling a cloth headband from her bag. She stepped up onto a decorative stump that made up part of the camping display and tied the fabric around Japer's eyes. "Count to twenty-five and come find us."

She looked over at Rosalie, who nodded, counted to three, and shouted, "GO!" As she took off down the aisle in search of a hiding spot.

Alice followed suit with a light giggle, rushing instinctively to the juniors section ducking under a clearance rack hiding behind the markdown fall jeans and dresses.

It wasn't long before she could see Jasper coming from between the clothing items, stifling a giggle in anticipation, prepared to run as he looked through every rack looking for the girls. It didn't take long for him to reach the spot where she was hidden, laughing out gotcha as she ducked to the side, making a break for the seasonal section. As she chanced a glance behind her to see if he was on her tail, relieved to see the coast was clear, she slowed to a walk only to be surprised when Jasper jumped out from the aisle in front of her.

He reached out, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her forward into a hug. "Got ya, for real this time." He laughed as he held her close, gazing down at her with affection.

The air felt thick with a comfortable tension, her heart thumping hard at a slow, steady rhythm. "We should probably go look for Rosalie." She spoke softly after a moment.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He didn't immediately release her, pausing with an expression that made her wonder if there was something he wanted to say but was holding back.

With a slight shake of the head, Jasper released his hold on her waist. "Would you like a ride, milady?" he asked, gesturing to a discarded shopping cart off to the side, causing Alice to break down in giggles. He lifted her up, placing her delicately into the empty cart, proceeding to push her down the aisle in search of his sibling.

Rosalie wasn't hard to find, having gotten distracted by a bin of discounted Nintendo games and forgetting about the game. The trio decided to wander about the store once again. Distracted by pleasant conversation and a game of walking charades. They didn't notice when they Edgar, Anna-Maria, and Cynthia spotted their group or how Alice's father was storming directly toward them.

"Mary-Alice, who are these people." Her father looked on at Rosalie and Jasper in disgust. Although she didn't particularly care about her father's opinion, it would have been nice to introduce Edgar to Jasper under better circumstances, maybe when she had a clearer idea of exactly what he was to her. At the very least, not while he was pushing her around a Target in a shopping cart.  

"That's Jasper!" Cynthia piped in, unaware of how their father would view the situation. "He's Alice's boyfriend. And Rosie!" The little girl's face lit up upon seeing her favorite of her sister's friends standing off to the side. Cynthia instantly released her hand from Anna-Marie's and bounced over to give the woman a hug. The woman seemed slightly dejected at the action, realizing that the child had been placating her all day, happy to receive any sort of attention. Whereas upon seeing Rosalie, she had been genuinely excited, immediately beginning to chatter about her day at top speeds.

Alice's attention was focused on her fuming father expecting the worst. There wasn't much he could do; after all, they were in a public location, and he'd lost all control he had over her when Alice had moved out with her mother in the divorce. Still, that fear remained ever-present as she unconsciously scooted back further into the cart.

"Get out of that cart and act like a lady! You're embarrassing yourself and my name!" The man seethed, hissing the words through a clenched jaw.

Alice stood, trying to figure out how exactly she was going to get out on her own when Jasper picked her up again. He placed her back on the ground gently before both turned once again to face the angry Edgar. Jasper never once removing his hand from the small of her back; she was grateful for this, the touch keeping her calm and grounded.

Edgar opened his mouth, presumably to order his daughter to say goodbye to her friends when a familiar voice sounded from behind the group. "There are my children," Alice turned around to see David Hale striding over to the group. "Alice and Cynthia as well, what a pleasant surprise."

David offered both girls a warm smile before turning his attention to Alice's father. "And Edgar, I'm shocked I never made the connection before.  Brandon,  you must be the girl's father, such a small world when the daughter of one of my suppliers happens to become such close friends with my children without either of us knowing. Jasper, Rose," He looked over his shoulder at the twins, "Your mother is out front in the van; we're ready to leave. You should take Alice and go check out while I catch up with Mr. Brandon for a moment." He then turned his attention back to Edgar with an incredulous expression.

Not needing to be told twice, the three teens left the adults to talk, making their way to the self-checkouts located at the front of the store where Rosalie began to scan her purchases. Alice zoned out as the twins discussed the matter of an item Rosalie hadn't recalled placing in the basket; not wanting to involve herself in their argument, she instead thought back to the confrontation with her father. The gravity of Cynthia's words suddenly hitting her with full force; the eight-year-old had called Jasper her boyfriend. She'd been too preoccupied in the moment to notice, but now that she'd come to the realization, she was suddenly anxious. She looked over at the guy in question; he was smiling at his sister in triumph, having apparently won the battle.

She wondered what he had thought of Cynthia's statement as Rosalie paid for their items, slipping her brother a bag before they wandered out into the parking lot. Had he even noticed, or had he been just as distracted as she had been by the uncomfortable situation?

"What's on your mind?" Jasper asked once outside, motioning for his twin to go on ahead as they walked over to where Alice's Lumina was parked. "You're doing that thing where you're thinking too hard and start chewing on the corner of your lip."

"I do that?"

"Nope, don't change the subject, missy. What's wrong?"

"Okay..." She opened nervously. "You didn't correct Cynthia when she called you my boyfriend."

"Well, you didn't either." His response came with equal trepidation.

"I guess I didn't."

"Did... did you want me to?"

Alice shook her head, furiously at the question, "No! I just... wanted to be sure what was going on here."

"Oh Alice," Jasper chuckled as he bent down to please a kiss in her temple as he shoved a Target sack into her hands, "Happy early Christmas,  girlfriend . I'll see you on Monday." He tucked a stray hair behind her eat with a smile before venturing over to where Rosalie as waiting with their parents shooting Alice a final glance before climbing into his family's van.

She leaned against her own vehicle with a dopey smile. That had been as clear an answer as she could have asked for. Looking down into the bag, she pulled out a single item, the same Stila palette she'd been looking at earlier. She held the eyeshadow in her hands, tightly filled with joy. Of course, he'd noticed her every expression and caught onto her lie. That was just like Jasper, to do something so sweet on the spur of the moment.

Alice tossed the gift into the backseat of her car before making her way back inside. Prepared to endure the rest of the obligatory time with her family. Her Thanksgiving might have started out terrible, but with friends like Emmett and Rosalie and a boyfriend  like Jasper. She really couldn't complain.

#alice cullen #jasper hale #Jalice #Twilight #rosalie hale #happy thanksgiving