#it was sunny and warm and lovely and I saw a bumblebee :)

[dorypaxx]

[Optimus Prime x Reader] Love you to the Cybertron and back

Warning: Prohibited substances, addictive substances, readers are old enough to be aware of their behavior

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Hi, this is my second time writing fanfic about Optimus. Big daddy makes me feel like there are never enough stories about him. Hope you enjoy this story

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What is defiance?

In my opinion, that's when you know both of you can't be together but still want to try to get to the other person. Whether it's a 0.000001% chance, or when you know for sure that your future will be nothing but pain and separation, but you still run towards that person like a cow, just to have can see their smiles.

It is often said that one-sided love is the feeling of pissing yourself in the foot. Outsiders see you as stupid, but you feel so warm. And I must have been a real idiot when I fell into an unrequited love affair with a giant alien robot.

But I mean who can NOT love that perfect bot ? Look into those blue eyes that sparkle more than any gem in the world, as deep as the ocean and brighter than the sky on a sunny day; listen to the quiet but serious sound, sometimes too gentle when interested in you; and his thoughtful look when thinking and worrying about everyone. God, it's HARD not to fall in love with such a perfect Optimus Prime !

I secretly thought so while doing my homework on my laptop. The words in the content of the exercise gradually deviate to "I love Optimus so much, why are you so handsome when you walk or sleep or sit, oh my lord, a gift from the Creator, perfect gentleman, destroyer of women hearts...". Suddenly Miko appeared behind me, the mischievous little girl curiously looked at her laptop and asked:

- Hey, what are you doing ?

Startled, I quickly folded the machine in but it was too late. Miko gave me a sly smile that made my face heat up, it felt like I was just caught watching gay porn tagged a man with a pink nipple in a public place, no more human rights. She nudged me on the shoulder with a know-it-all smile and then ran off to tell Bulkhead and Wheeljack..

Now the whole base, even Agent Fowler, knows I have a crush on Optimus. Fowler's eyes were looking at me like he saw me dressed up as a bush, holding an AK and saying "I'm going to fuck your mother"...

But the gods had mercy on me, so the only person who didn't know I had a crush on Optimus was that lovely Prime.

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My guardian is Optimus.

The reason? Ratchet is too busy with data, supercomputers or whatever and always says "I needed that!", Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead all already have someone else. I'm twenty years old, older than all of them, and don't go to the same school as the kids. Although Optimus is too busy to be a nanny, he still tries to make time to pick me up every day. He even thoughtfully cares for me when I'm in a bad mood by rubbing my head with his giant fingers - something no one has ever done to me. Normally, people around me tend to ignore my negative emotions but He is different, He is willing to listen to me when I am sad, praise me when I achieve something and obviously I it was not wrong to fall in love with him at first sight.

I won't confess that I struggled by rolling around on the ground just to have Optimus as my personal guardian instead of any other bot. Surprisingly, instead of trampling me, he actually agreed.

Excellent !!

Gradually, we shared a lot of things with each other. I am an extrovert, active and creative, and always have no shortage of stories to share. Optimus Prime, Autobot leader, part time introvert, loves to listen to my story and then, can talk to me about Cybertron's history, its golden age and I'll share it with him about my home country, which suffered from invasion and division by hostile forces but united to fight for independence, freedom and happiness for our people despite suffering many losses and pain. At those times, Optimus often listens with a contemplative face, and he praises people of my country, at that time I saw a little sadness in his eyes, mixed with longing. Perhaps, He also longs for peace will return to the land of Cybertron.

I know that Optimus is responsible for the fate of his entire planet, so I don't want him to be bothered by my little love. Just being with him, I'm satisfied, I don't want to ask for anything more and always tell my heart to remember that. I just need to see Optimus every day, hear him speak, touch him, be cared for by him and I will be happy and happy. But sometimes, I will also be selfish and greedy. I could pretend to be weak and stupid just to be with him a little longer, to feel the soft, cold touches of metal as he pats my head, inhaling his scent. If the sun, the sky and the stars smelled, it would be Optimus

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Our lives are not always peaceful. Decepticons, MECH, battles that almost took my love away from myself so many times. Remembering that time when I saw the blue color in His eyes gradually fade away, I felt like I had died according to that light.

My heart constricted violently, I felt suffocated, my eyes blurred, engulfed in an endless despair. If my human heart could be used to save Him, I would pull it out myself just to see that clear blue light one more time. I realized that I loved Optimus so much that I didn't even know it, and I prayed to the gods to take me away in His stead, if He could rise again, I wouldn't hesitate to show my love off. Show my love to Him regardless of the outcome.

Maybe it was luck, maybe it was because the gods heard my prayer, the team found a way to revive Optimus. The moment I saw His Spark light up, I burst with happiness. It was only when Optimus raised his giant arm to lightly touch my face that I realized it was already wet with tears. Tears of uncontrollable happiness rolled down her cheeks, falling one after another. I hugged those giant fingers tightly, laughing in a choked sob :

- Welcome back, Optimus.

He replied to me with a warm smile:

- I'm back.

No need for fancy or fancy words. I love Him through such simple words.

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After Optimus returned from the dead, he seemed… more strange? I'm not sure if my hunch is correct as he and I have been glaring at each other for more than thirty minutes. Strangely speaking, because normally only I look at Optimus, slim waist, long legs, big butt, handsome, who doesn't like it? But it's very strange for Optimus to look back at me, it's like being reciprocated by a crush, most of which is due to high drugs that give rise to hallucinations.

While I was wondering if the 8 funky balls that I had hidden from Optimus to use on New Year's Eve had any effect on my nerves, he approached me. The speaker, while I pricked my ears to hear what else these 8 funkey balls could make me hallucinate.

- The moon is beautiful today, isn't it?

If it's so illusory, it's definitely a drug...

As a natural reaction, everyone raised their heads to look. Oh, it's the base roof of metal bars and rocks. Then everyone turned their gazes to me. I gulped, chuckling.

- Yes, it's beautiful.

Ratchet looks at me like crazy while Jack and Miko come over and touch my forehead. Jack frowned :

- Strange, no fever at all.

Miko continued:

- Tell me the truth, who sold you drugs?

My forehead had blue veins, picked up these two demons' ears, and whispered in a loud enough volume for them to hear:

-If you two are still babbling, I'll tell Arcee and Bulkhead about how you two tried to buy marijuana and use it. And believe me, Ratchet will let you both listen to lectures 24/7.

Miko pursed her lips, while Jack nodded vigorously. The secret we secretly played with banned substances was something that we swore to live with, carry with us when we died, even if Megatron put a gun to the head, we couldn't tell it out. Suddenly, Miko seemed to think of something, she leaned into my ear and said :

- What Optimus said seems to be quite common in my country. It is a kind of confession where one person says "The moon is beautiful tonight", then if the other responds "The wind is also very gentle", it means yes.

-So Optimus is secretly confessing to her?

- Exactly, Jackie!

The two of them didn't make an appointment, but they both smiled at me. I blushed, my mind still echoing Miko's words. But what if this is just a coincidence? Or just a fleeting illusion of a hopeless unrequited love?

A voice in my head : What if it is true ? What if Optimus loves you the same way you love Him? You deserve this hope of love. Go ahead girl, conquer that perfect bot !

Sink Or Swim . It's not the first time I've been rejected anyway...

- Optimus !! - I shouted - The wind is very gentle today too!!

Fuckfuckfuck I'm going to die !!!!!

Now it's not just Ratchet, but Arcee, Bumblebee, Raf and Bulkhead all looking at me like I'm crazy. Miko and Jack covered their mouths with laughter. I was like a balloon that had been deflated, and my whole body was limp. Embarrassment, shyness, ... mixed emotions in me, but my eyes were still fixed on that red and blue bot.

And He smiled

Striking giant strides toward me, Optimus knelt down, holding out his hand. I jumped up, clinging to His big fingers while Optimus led us both out of the center of the base, to a deserted place just the two of us. Whisperer:

- Can you say it again?

- Say what again? - I laughed and asked in return - Saying the wind is also very gentle, or do I also love you very much?

For a moment, I heard the rumble of an engine. Optimus's metallic skin, which was once cold, was now unusually hot. I looked him straight in the eye, and my heart fluttered with strange joys  :

- I've loved you since we first met and always will. So, venerable Optimus, can you assume that you feel the same way about me ? Do you feel like me?

- I have always loved you, but I am afraid, afraid that my enemies will try to harm you when they know this. But after coming back from the dead, seeing you cry, I understand that I can't lie to myself anymore. I swear on the honor of Primus and my Spark, I love you.

I tiptoed slightly, placing a kiss on Optimus' lips. Needless to say, I'm already satisfied. I know that our love will have to go through many obstacles, but what do we do when we have already fallen in love with each other...

Let's put the worries away for now, and enjoy this sweet moment a little more...

Love you to the Cybertron and back

#optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #tfp #wheeljack #ratchet #bumblebee #transformers prime arcee #bulkhead #tfp miko #tfp jack #tfp raf #agent fowler #romantic #defiance

[wanderella-w]

A mostly sunny stretch (day 10-12)

Okay, so I had a whole post typed out about day 10 (twice) but apparently Tumblr lets posts disappear when trying to upload them with a bad internet connection. Anyways, what basically happened is, I walked from just behind Bude to Crackington Haven with one of the steepest ascents of the trip (see video) and nice whether. In Crackington Haven I met Rosa again (quite amazing that she just arrived 10 minutes before me considering it was already around lunchtime) and that night we camped a few km before Boscatle. I was glad to see her again! We immediately tried the duct tape on her dried up shoes to see how it would survive the day. Unfortunately, it didn't.

The next day we came through Boscatle, a town which we loved. If I had to move to Cornwall (no idea why I would have to but anyways) I would chose Boscatle! It was a small town with one bakery, one book shop, one outdoor shop, a small supermarkt and a YHA that was even cuter than the one we had stayed in. The National Trust (the organization maintaining all the hiking paths) had their office there and the surroundings were beautiful. We kept walking and it got warm and sunny. Was this the gulf stream they had all been telling us about? We could also tell that we were now in Cornwall as the landscape had changed. It was less rugged and the cliffs (if you could still call them that) were more like hills softly crumbling into the sea. The water where we walked now was very blue. We had lunch at a touristy spot (some King Arthur related castle) and as it was Saturday it was quite busy. At night we found a beautiful camping spot next to the river, a few km before Port Isaac.

(First picture is the YHA youth hostel in Boscatle, it was still closed)

The next day was a bit rough for me in the beginning, even though the whether was beautiful. My body felt heavy, maybe it was because zo hadn't had a rest day yet, or just because we were actually climbing quite a lot of hills. After a coffee at a coffee truck that appeared just at the right time in the right place (Port Quin), I was re-energized and we actually had a great rest of the day. We were in a chatty mood, talking a lot with each other and with strangers on the path (It was still the weekend, so quite busy). We met quite a few people who were also doing the coast path, mostly one weekend at a time. Some people were asking if we were wild camping and they were all enthousiastic about our plans. We took the ferry from Rock to Padstow, and had an hour of time to relax afterwards (and to do our obligatory cooldown), before we hopped on the bus to our youth hostel in Treyarnon Bay. We booked two night in this hostel as it is also on the path - the plan is to reach it tomorrow walking after going to the outdoor store in Padstow in the morning to look for new hiking shoes. My feet keep getting wet and the shoes take days to dry, so I think this is really the only option. Altogether this means we only need to pack a daypack tomorrow which is a great foresight!

PS: Rosa lost one of her zip-pant legs, so now she looks like a 60-year old tourist who JUST LOVES Cornwall.

PPS: Yes, we can also observe spring spring! While a week ago we still saw frog eggs beneath a layer of snow (see photo), we saw them hatched yesterday! We saw duffadils (Narzissen) all along the way but now we also see some wild flowers here and there, and in the past three days I have seen butterflies and bumblebees.

Update: I wrote this post on the 19th, today is the the 20st of March and we are going to Newquay with the bus instead of Padstow because they have better outdoor stores there. Not sure if there will be any hiking today.

[gentlenotes-moved]

Hey, it's me again, checking in. I hope these messages aren't starting to get annoying...

And I hope you're doing alright today! I'm always so happy to see you on my dash and I hope you're having good things in life today. :)

~🍦

oh, you're not annoying at all! in fact, my day brightens when i see you in my inbox <3

and today was a lovely day! i saw an old friend of mine today (which completely made my entire month) and went to a local nature preserve just a few minutes away. i took a nice walk through the forest and a lush meadow with a lot of flowers! there were butterflies and bumblebees everywhere, it was gorgeous; a lovely warm and sunny day ✨

and i'm so so glad that my blog makes you so happy! thank you for checking in, and i really hope amazing things happen to you today as well, babe! 💕

#🍦 anon #asks 💌 #i always love seeing you here :)

[pinkesthoney]

Idiots in Love

Summary: Eddie and you have been friends for almost a year now. He’s been waiting for the perfect opportunity to show you how he really feels. Will he finally make a move when you both end up snuggled at the top of a ferris wheel? 

Relationship: Eddie x Reader

Word Count: appx. 2000

You came into Eddie’s apartment with a knock. Eddie was sitting at his desk, finishing an article. He greeted you over his shoulder before returning to his work. He could hear you moving around behind him. He couldn’t help the smile that took over his face when he heard you making yourself some tea. He never drank anything besides pitch black coffee, but he kept a tea kettle and boxes of all your favorite teas, just for you. He peeked over his shoulder to see you pouring hot water into a light pink mug with a pastel rainbow on it, also something that was only for you. The warm smell of vanilla chai made him smile.

Sometimes Eddie would look around his apartment and feel like the only thing missing was you. It’s been almost a year now since y’all started hanging out, and Eddie felt like he either had to make a move or risk losing you. And he didn’t want to lose you. Eddie had never met anyone like you. You were so...alive. He loved seeing you happy and excited, loved how it lit up your eyes and the way your chin ducked when you laughed deeply. But you weren’t a ‘good vibes only’ type person; Eddie loved how when you were furious or heartbroken you weren’t afraid to feel it. From the first time he met you he’d felt immediately drawn to you. He couldn’t get enough of you and how vibrant you were. He’d never thought he was missing anything in his life–he loved his job and he had great guy friends who got together regularly for sports or cards. He was happy. 

But then he met you; you were soft and funny, and you didn’t care what anyone else thought of you because you liked you. You were kind and loving and you shared your feelings so easily. You brought something so new to his life. He’d become nearly obsessed with your softness, your smiles. And that’s why he had to make a move, let you know how he felt and tonight was the night. 

He shook himself out of his thoughts, closing out his word editor and swiveling around to see you relaxed, laid out on his couch sipping tea, absorbed in a thick black and gold book. He tried not to look too lovesick. He had to ask you out, he had to know if you felt the same as he did. He knew if you gave him the chance he would spend the rest of his life making you smile. And he had a plan.

You could see Eddie from the corner of your eye, but you just relaxed even more into the couch, sipping your tea, letting the warmth soothe you into a dreamy state. The book you were reading was getting good and you couldn’t wait to see where the author took it. You had read for a few more pages before you noticed Eddie stand, stretch, then plop down on the other end of the couch. It wasn’t quite long enough for you to not touch, spread out as you were, so you let your feet rest on Eddie’s thigh, which he pretended to huff at while he channel surfed.

Eddie cleared his throat before breaking the comfortable silence “..hey so I, ah,  I mean I wanted to ask if you were doing anything later?” you peeked over your book and gave your head a small shake, eyes crinkling at the hesitation in his voice “good, yeah, cause I was gonna say I could take you out to that carnival that’s in town? You know, I saw they have some cool shows going on..” he trailed off, chuckling at himself and you nudged him with your foot so he would meet your eyes.

“hey, I can’t wait. I love carnivals. What time do you want to pick me up?” you asked, a bit of teasing in your voice, but warm and sunny nonetheless.

“oh I’m picking you up am I?” Eddie teases back with a wink “how’s 6:30 work for you?”

“that’s perfect” you respond with a bright smile. 

You both lapse back into a comfy silence, with you hiding behind your book so Eddie can’t see your blush or your excited grin–which also meant you couldn’t see Eddie’s ears turn red or the way he had to fight to keep his own smile at a normal level. Around 4 you headed back to your own place to get ready. 

***

You heard a knock at your door and dog-eared your page before skipping into your hall and yanking open the door. Eddie stood there, nose a little red from the chill that was just creeping in. You noticed he’d changed his clothes and smiled to yourself about it. “Hey!” you said brightly “Just give me one moment to put on some shoes, c’mon in.” you left to find a well-loved pair of baby blue and cream vans, pulling them on and tying the laces. You could see Eddie shuffling in the doorway and grinned at him. “will I be cold?” you asked him.

“You? Always. but, yeah, it’s gonna get a little chilly. I could always lend you my coat if you got cold though.” Eddie added on that last bit a little quieter. You were already in your favorite sweatshirt and Eddie ran hot anyway so you decided to take him up on his offer “you wouldn’t mind?” you checked, grabbing your keys. Eddie grunted an affirmative, and you trusted him to know his own mind so you motioned for him to lead the way.

Eddie walked a little ahead of you, which seemed odd until he stopped by your car door first to open it for you. You smiled and thanked him, sliding into the still-warm interior. Eddie kept his car neat (well, aside from the different papers and writings), just another thing you loved about him. Eddie got in too and y’all were on your way. 

outside it was getting dark, but the sky was still a cobalt blue and there was plenty of light to see by. Soon you pulled into a parking space outside the carnival, which was glowing against the dark blue sky like a magical forest of light. Your eyes were huge with wonder and you couldn’t stop the smile taking over your face,

Eddie knew he’d made the right choice asking you here. You experienced each new joy like you might die from its intensity. He loved you. He loved you and tonight he was going to tell you.

Eddie got out of the car, quickly coming around to your side and helping you out. You felt the brisk air on your skin and grinned even brighter. You could see your breath coming out in white wisps. You grabbed Eddie’s arm and pulled him towards the glowing entrance, him pretending to resist only so you would hook your arm fully in his and pull harder. He chuckled, following you happily.

When you got to the ticket booth, Eddie got both your tickets and handed you the classically shaped stub. You tucked it in your pocket–you always held on to sentimental little tidbits, especially with Eddie.

When you got inside the gate it was a wonderland of color and lights and smells. There was the heady smell of frying foods and a grassy smell like summer. There was a hum of happy chatter and music that would be creepy in a horror movie. You were torn on what to look at from the brightly colored tents to the glowing signs and rides. Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way your face glowed in the multicolor lights. Eddie was just asking you where to start when your stomach grumbled loudly. You giggled and Eddie chuckled. He let you pick what booth to get food from then shooed you away to find a picnic table. A few minutes later Eddie waltzed up, arms laden with frito pies and funnel cake. They were delicious and warm, and you couldn’t help the moan you let out at the first satisfying mouthful. You noticed Eddies ears turning pink and gave him the benefit of the doubt that it was because of the chill. 

You knew Eddie and you had chemistry. You’d known it since you first met. But he’d never made a move to be more than friends, so you just enjoyed the moment. When you finished eating, you grabbed Eddie’s hand and pulled him to the games booths. You weren’t the best shot, but you managed to win a sparkly pink bracelet, which Eddie immediately put on when you gifted it to him. Eddie was much better with hand-eye coordination and even managed to win a respectably sized stuffed bumblebee, which handed to you with a blush. Your squeal of glee wiped away any momentary embarrassment he felt.

You linked hands again as you strolled through the carnival, giggling at the performances and gasping when a fire-eater blew a stream of flame over the crowd’s head. As soon as you passed him though you noticed how cold it had gotten, even with Eddie’s warmth at your side. Before you could even say anything, Eddie was shrugging out of his thick leather jacket draping it over your shoulders. “what?” he said defensively “I was getting too warm anyway.” You pulled his jacket around you tighter and hummed in satisfaction with the warmth. You let Eddie pull you close to him, pretending he was pulling you out of the way of a juggler, but you noticed he kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders even after you’d passed.

“How about that next?” he asked, bending to talk in your ear. You shivered and saw him pointing to the glowing ferris wheel. You nodded, letting your glee light up your face and giving the bumblebee an extra squeeze. Eddie grinned and steered you towards the huge wheel, pulling you closer to his side. 

The line was surprisingly short, so before too long Eddie handed over some tickets to the ride operator, mumbling something to him, and y’all took a seat in the swinging cart. The bench fit but didn’t leave any wiggle room, so you ended up plastered to Eddie, who once again wrapped an arm around you. 

By now the sun had set so the lights of the city glowed bright in the darkness. From the top of the wheel it looked like you and Eddie were floating in space with stars all around. “Eddie...I feel, so full. it’s almost too much, it’s so beautiful I feel like I might burst!” you looked over and saw that Eddie wasn’t looking at the view around you, he was staring at...you.

“iloveyou” his low voice came out in a rush, followed by a very dark blush, but he never broke eye contact. And that’s when you started crying. At first he looked horrified, but you squeezed his hand. 

“I love you too, I have since I met you.” You whispered, not trusting your voice. Eddie breathed a sigh of relief and the hand that had been draped over your arm moved to the back of your head, slipping through your hair to pull you into the best kiss you’d ever had. His lips were soft, contrasted by his rough stubble. You couldn’t help a small moan from escaping, but judging by his responding moan, Eddie didn’t seem to mind. You melted into the kiss, losing sense of everything else around you.

When you pulled back, all you could see was Eddie’s blue-green eyes glowing from the lights below, and you noticed that the corners of his eyes were just a little wet with tears. “hi” you whispered, “hi you” he whispered back. You felt so perfectly happy. You both knew this was where you would end up, from the first second you met. 

“haven’t we been at the top of this for a while? I’m not complaining but...” you asked, a little confused

“oh, yeah, I tipped the operator to give us a bit of extra alone time.” Eddie says with a wink.

You giggle, snuggling closer in to his side, just enjoying this feeling. 

#eddie brock x reader #or #eddy brock x reader #depending? #lol was this southern enough for y'all #venom fic #venom #fluff #venom fluff #i write sometimes

[thejudgingtrash]

(unedited and I’m not a native speaker so please point out if you see something odd!)

One day (1,4k)

A quiet day. The air was warm and dry. The wind chimes sang the melody of the clouds and the invisible currents. The paint of the old house was brittle. It would take days to repaint it, if a professional painter would take the job it would tear through savings. But the money was tight, and Percy knew that he had to put his efforts into elsewhere. The hand he was holding reminded him of that. The green on the wood that was decades old could be blown away to reveal the natural layer underneath it. The old Colonial stood in front of them, proud and almighty, but it was nothing more than a lie that has been fed through generations.

The lawn looked nearly identical to the last time Percy had visited. Wild. Unkept. A fight of nature taken back what was rightfully its. And it was he that had mown it to keep it in somewhat of a shape. The old swing had been removed as it was broken beyond repair. It laid in the basement, waiting for a small child to beg for its usage once again.

Attempts to make her move into something smaller and easier have failed. In some cases, it triggered her, and she began to scream and cry. The hands that were thrown weren’t of violence. They were of despair and the deepest pain. That was the sign when Percy knew he had overstepped his welcome. But the misunderstood clouds of sorrow and deep hatred passed and revealed her other side. The motherly side. The sunny side that loved to live and love.

Percy Jackson had returned. It was his semiannual visit to Westport, Connecticut. The youth had vanished from his face, although not entirely. It was a weird state where old and young stood in front of each other. The youth wanted to remain, but the adulthood came to claim its place. A not so young man who had both legs fully integrated in life rang the bell that gave a soft jingle and knocked on the turquoise door.

It swung open after a while. “Oh, hello Percy!” May smiled. She recognized him. Relief. There were times when she did not. “Is it time again?”

“Hello May,” Percy greeted her and entered. Little steps followed him.

The house had been decluttered. May had a knack for keeping everything she deemed interesting and never threw it out. Percy would come with the big blue bags and make her decide what items were necessary and which she wanted to keep. It upset her. But she understood it. At least Percy hoped she did.

“I have made cookies. I might have burnt them a little bit. Oopsie.” Her gaze shifted to the right into another twinkling pair of eyes.

May got on one knee. Her morning dress was clean this time and not burned and pungent like the many times before. “Luke!” she cried with big eyes. “You’re back!”

Her hands grabbed the soft cheeks. “But you are so small,” she whispered. It broke Percy’s heart. “Weren’t you taller?” May Castellan tilted her head and the silver hair fell down her shoulder. She had aged. It had been more than a decade ago, closer to two.

“It’s me, grandma May. It’s me, Theo,” the young boy said.

“My son, May. Do you remember?” Percy asked her.

A wondrous expression rested on her face. “You have become a big brother,” she remembered slowly. “A little girl!”

Theo began to grin and proudly showed his two missing front teeth. “Yes, I’m a big brother now! Ari is so pretty!”

“When will I see your little sister?” May asked and clapped her hands in excitement.

The fact that Annabeth was against a visit with young Ariadne as a safety measurement was something that Percy just couldn’t voice. He knew his wife was right. And still his consciousness made him do these visits. The aged demigod couldn’t save her son, but he refused to fail May Castellan. So, he visited her. Only for certain amounts of times, of course. He never blamed Annabeth and Thalia for staying away. He never blamed Nico for bringing him to this place for the first time. It was destined and running away from the Moirai was never the best option. That was something that had been etched into his mind since he had been a young boy of twelve years in his first year at Camp Half-Blood.

“You will see her soon once she’s grown a little bit more,” he deflected.

“I bet she is a pretty baby. Just like Luke was.”

“Yes. Yes, she is,” Percy said. Was the air getting stuffier? Or why did he feel the tears coming? His chest was heavy and filled with regrets. He blinked the pesky wetness away.

Fatherhood made him come to realize more. It made him understand more. Patience. Love. Forgiveness. It made him understand the complete and utter injustice that was the broken shell of May Castellan. The living contradiction. More dead than alive, a broken record. A mother that was yearning for her son. A mother that was screaming for her son. A son that would never return home again. A mother that couldn’t see that her son would never return home again. Yet the broken fragments of her mind would never let her rest. It would never make it easy for her until she would have her last breath. And what lied beyond that was something that Percy could not imagine.

The wicked ways of the ancient forces. The same gods that had blessed her, had thrown her into despair. They had turned their backs. Even her former lover. A tunnel of sadness where only in certain times and particular angles an illusion of light shone through. That was May Castellan.

The three moved into the kitchen where Percy let his son only eat two cookies and for once little Theo listened to his father. May Castellan didn’t lie, she really had burnt the cookies. But the younger Jackson was too polite to not eat some and thanked May as she wanted to give him more.

“Shall we clean the yard, May?” Percy proposed like he always did.

“Oh yes!” agreed May with glowing eyes like she always did.

He would mow the lawn and trim the bushes and May would take care after the roses. She loved the roses. The roses, the tulips and the sweet lavender that the bumblebees loved to dance around. All reminders of a better and safer time. Times that had passed as flowers would wither in mere moments. Especially those that were unkempt.

Theo played with Rhodius, the son of Blackjack, another young and wild pegasus that let the young boy sit on his back. The Jacksons had used him as a means of transportation. Percy eyed them closely as he did a little bit of yard work. Rest assured; the Pegasus was an excellent babysitter.

After an hour and a half of work, the adults sat down on the porch. Percy brushed the sweat off his forehead. May rushed into the house and brought out glasses of orange juice. Percy tried to not pull a face as he came to realization that she had confused the salt and sugar containers once again. “Luke, my boy,” May said. A dreamy expression rested on her face as she watched young Theo play and chase after the trained legs of the magical creature.

“Percy, when will Luke come back? When will I see my boy?” May asked and turned around to him. Her eyes. They were glazed. The cerulean eyes were so full of life yet mirrored death. Were it the tears or were it the wretched prophecy and the following illusions of the future that haunted her ever since? He would never know. How could he ever know?

“When will my Luke come back?” she cried.

Stomping through the grass. Theo stood in front of his father and saw the heartbroken Mrs. Castellan.

Theo looked up to his father. Even the small boy knew that May Castellan was sick. Slowly dying of a broken heart that could never be mended. Slowly dying of the visions that haunted her and had driven her into her unsafe state.

Percy had subconsciously pressed Theo’s hand as the child sat down on his father’s lap. Percy looked apologizing into the sea green eyes that mirrored his. Only the gray ring and the gray dots that looked like they have been splashed with a paint brush reminded Percy of his mother. His wife. His dear Annabeth.

His heart was heavy and the frown on his face aged the demigod even more. The white in his hair had come back. The streaks had been thicker even.

“One day, May. One day,” he said. One day, he promised.

#pjo #Percy Jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson fanfiction #Annabeth chase #may castellan #luke castellan #the last olympian #pjo fanfic #mel writes #percabeth

[ilikebeesandflowers]

Finale? What finale?

That was just the Empty torturing a wayward gay angel... Here’s what really happened after Cas confessed his LOVE to Dean Winchester and was taken to Super Mega Hell...

Unedited, unproofread, unbeta’d- just pure, unadulterated, whiskey-and-rage-fueled fix-it fic. Ps, El Sol cerveza is the official beverage of fake-dream-worlds, and therefore the entire narrative of the finale is sus.

Love Lift Us Up (Where We Belong)

Cas slumbered, but fitfully. Oblivion plagued him with nightmares.

Some dreams replayed memories, even of memories that were not strictly his: one by one, everyone he loved torn apart at an atomic level, rent, poofed to dust. His sleeping self watched on a loop as Bobby, Charlie, Donna, nameless others fell, obliterated.

He saw Michael slay Lucifer, the foregone conclusion so many times delayed.

He saw Michael betray the Winchesters. But how? Why? Michael had changed, hadn’t he? Adam had changed him. Even asleep, Cas knew this to be true.

He watched Jack, his loving and beloved son, fulfilling the promise Kelly had known he held. Jack bringing peace to the world, restoring balance, returning all life on earth to its rightful places. Cas was certain that this dream was true. He felt Jack’s presence, unmistakable lightness and goodness and purity.

The Empty roiled violently, rippling the fabric of its realm.

The dreams changed again to nightmares.

Dean, alone. Sam, alone. Eileen, alone.

The hunters who had died were again whole and alive, walking the earth as if Chuck’s poisonous animosity had never snuffed them. And yet they were all isolated from one another. Oh, the younger children clung to their parents, but the parents drifted from one another.

Charlie, alone. Donna, alone. Claire, alone.

The loneliness of the hunters infected the denizens of the Empty, and the Empty smiled in its sleep.

Cas dreamed that he watched Dean dying, an ignominious death in a ramshackle barn. He felt a wave of revulsion, of jealousy, like he did in another barn, once upon a time, witnessing a kiss between Anna and Dean. What had he felt then, way back when, when feelings were still so new and frightening? Had he been in love then?

The scene repeated, again and again, a horrible parody of what should have been. A confession of love, two foreheads touching, hands held over Dean’s heart. The scene replayed a hundred, a thousand times, Cas viewing from the vantage of the beloved, but Cas never could see who received Dean’s love. He only knew it wasn’t him. He could only watch through someone else’s eyes, hearing and seeing and feeling with intense loathing what should have been his.

Then Dean was dead.

 The scene faded again. Cas saw Sam, living on, without Dean, without Jack, without Eileen, without hunters or hunting. In the space of a human heartbeat, he was married, raising a human child, a son. In another heartbeat, he was old, then dying, then greeting his brother in heaven.

He felt again a tug as if Jack were near. A faint glow.

Cas woke. Two amber eyes shone above him.

“Castiel,” said Jack, “something is wrong. I need your help.”

Cas scrambled to his feet. “The dreams? They were real?”

Jack couldn’t know what Cas had seen, and yet he shook his head and assured him that, no, those were the Empty playing tricks. “But reality is in danger. Heaven and Hell are out of balance. Heaven’s brightest are all here, when they should be up there. We’ll have to wake them.”

The Empty howled somewhere far off, something that sounded like, “Let me sleep!”

Jack stepped briskly in the inky blackness, tapping here and there, naming sleeping entities. “Hannah, you are needed. Duma, awaken. Gabriel. Michael. Raphael, your services are humbly requested.”

Soon, the din of awakened angels, archangels, seraphs, and reapers had summoned a furious cosmic entity of entropy and oblivion. “KEEP. IT. DOWN,” it hissed.

“And what will you do if we don’t?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow to the Empty, who stood before them in the guise of Meg Masters, circa 2009.

The Empty stamped its foot. “I took you in. You all died the death of immortals, a death that cannot be rewarded nor punished, but I took you in! And all I ask for is quiet!”

“But why?” Cas continued. “You despise us. Why do you trap us here?”

The Empty hesitated. “They dream,” it replied. “They dream, and so I dream.”

“We suffer nightmares of your making.”

“No-oo. The dreams are yours.”

“You enjoy the nightmares?”

“No.” The Empty faltered. “They wake me up. You stir, I stir; I must sleep!”

Jack spoke softly to the Empty. “Then expel them.”

“Expel them? What, just set them all free to commit chaos?”

“Just the dreamers.”

The Empty seemed to calculate the price of granting the nephilim’s wish. “That would be almost all of the angels and a number of powerful demons. They might return, clomping into my haven and disturbing my sleep.”

“No,” Castiel put in, his eyes lit with a wry smile. “If you expel them, they will be forever banned from your realm. They become subject to Purgatory, not Oblivion.”

Jack smiled at his father. “Exactly!” He turned again to the Empty. “So you’ll do it?” he asked brightly.

The Empty scowled. It nodded once, as if making a decision.

The world went white, then faded to reveal a sunny meadow. Roly-poly bumblebees flitted between fat heads of purple clover. A nest of chickadees chirped. Cicadas droned. A red kite soared above them, the string held by someone a long way off. Cas’ face softened, as if recalling a long-lost memory.

It hardened again as he sensed something amiss. “Jack,” he frowned, “the walls between the human heavens are failing.”

Jack nodded. “Yes, which is why we need more angelic energy. But watch.” He drew a small window in the air with his index finger. He pushed the cut-out, revealing an adjoining heaven belonging to a woman. Cas recognized her as the mother of the man with the kite. Her heaven contained a meadow: the same meadow that surrounded them, rather than the manicured lawn Cas knew from the man’s original heaven.

“They can co-exist,” he breathed.

“Yes. We can break these barriers and open Heaven. It doesn’t need to be a prison. We can fix it.” Jack grinned again, that same old smile he’d worn in life, when he learned the taste of nougat or the softness of a bunny rabbit.

The sight warmed Cas. The summer sky glowed just a bit brighter. “Tell me what to do, my son.”

***

For six days, as Heaven measures time, the angels, the archangels, and the nephilim worked. First, negotiating a truce with Hell and its imperious but righteous Queen, and then building a Heaven for all. On the seventh day, they rested from their labors. They gathered to watch the humans on earth for a little while. Almost no time had passed: the humans had had just enough time to recollect that they had watched their loved ones vanish; those unfamiliar with the supernatural had quickly forgotten the phenomenon, as well. The hunters in the warded hideout had had just enough time to embrace their newly un-vanished friends.

Sam was texting Eileen, only to remember that he still had her phone, abandoned on the sidewalk mid-text. He laughed at himself. “We have to drive to Eileen’s house.”

Dean lay hunched over the table, carving a word into the polished wood alongside the Winchester family initials. Thus far, it read, “CAST,” and he was just starting on the I. “Pack us up- I wanna finish this, but I can be ready in twenty.” They watched as he finished his tribute to Castiel. He put two fingers to his lips, then pressed the finger pads against the grooves.

Cas itched to know how Dean meant the gesture.

Dean hastily scratched the name “JACK” into the table, too. “You done good, kid,” he murmured, patting the letters as he might once have patted Jack on the shoulder.

The angels drifted back to their tasks. Cas stayed, watching his friends. His family. He followed their movements towards Eileen. He witnessed the tearful reunion.

Sam started sniffling long before Dean pulled up behind Eileen’s little red car. He stepped over the sidewalk, where he had first absorbed her death, and a sob escaped him. In a few strides of his long legs, he was at the door. His hand shook as he reached for the doorbell. The second phone in his pocket vibrated: her doorbell notification. How would she know that he was there? He clapped the knocker, stamped his feet.

The door opened. Eileen. A vision, a sight for even Cas’ sore eyes. Sam was overwhelmed. He croaked her name, and she was in his arms. Where she belonged.

Back at the curb, Dean turned his face from the lovers. He fiddled with his phone, but who could he call?

Cas heard Dean think his name. He felt a pang of longing, but it wasn’t his own. Or rather, it matched his own. Echoed his, merged with his, swelling the aching feeling until he felt full to bursting with yearning for something he thought he could never have. Had thought he couldn’t have. Now, he wondered.

He called to his son.

Jack appeared beside him. He followed Cas’ gaze. “It’s time for you to return to him,” he mused.

“Yes, but,” Cas tripped over the words he wanted to say and couldn’t bear to say.

Fortunately, Jack understood. Without another word, he took Cas’ face in his hands. For a moment, their eyes glowed brightly, then Castiel’s dimmed to their customary shade of blue. When Jack’s golden aura had faded as well, he pulled away from Cas. He glanced down at the slim vial now slung around his neck by a black cord. The substance within sparkled, swirled, its hue a dazzling, electric blue-white. It looked like lightning in a bottle.

Cas swept his son into a crushing embrace. “Thank you,” he wept.

“You can always come home,” Jack told him.

Cas pulled back. “No. Where I’m going is home.” He smiled through the tears rushing down his cheek. “Goodbye, Jack. I love you.”

He rather felt than heard Jack’s reply, as he crossed from the celestial plane to the mortal realm. He stood now on that same sidewalk. Far to his right, Sam lifted Eileen, carrying her bridal-style into her home, letting the door slam behind them. To his left, a long black car. He gripped the passenger door handle, pulled it open. The hinges squeaked. He folded himself inside before turning to the driver.

Dean looked every bit as awed as Cas felt. This was right.

Before he could say anything, even so much as a simple “Hello, Dean,” he found himself in Dean’s arms. Where he belonged.

#destiel #saileen #Castiel #sam x eileen #supernatural debacle #spn fixit fic #15.20 #long post #sorry I’m on mobile

[littlewomenpodcast]

Jo March falls in love to a man that is handsome-not-handsome

scenes in chronological order :D

New York, seeing Fritz for the first time

​when the parlor door opened and shut, and someone began to hum, Kennst Du Das Land, like a big bumblebee. It was dreadfully improper, I know, but I couldn't resist the temptation, and lifting one end of the curtain before the glass door, I peeped in. Professor Bhaer was there, and while he arranged his books, I took a good look at him. A regular German--rather stout, with brown hair tumbled all over his head, a bushy beard, good nose, the kindest eyes I ever saw, and a splendid big voice that does one's ears good, after our sharp or slipshod American gabble. His clothes were rusty, his hands were large, and he hadn't a really handsome feature in his face, except his beautiful teeth, yet I liked him, for he had a fine head, his linen was very nice, and he looked like a gentleman. 

New York, springtime

Why everybody liked him was what puzzled Jo, at first. He was neither rich nor great, young nor handsome, in no respect what is called fascinating, imposing, or brilliant, and yet he was as attractive as a genial fire, and people seemed to gather about him as naturally as about a warm hearth. He was poor, yet always appeared to be giving something away; a stranger, yet everyone was his friend; no longer young, but as happy-hearted as a boy; plain and peculiar, yet his face looked beautiful to many, and his oddities were freely forgiven for his sake. Jo often watched him, trying to discover the charm, and at last decided that it was benevolence which worked the miracle. If he had any sorrow, `it sat with its head under its wing', and he turned only his sunny side to the world. There were lines upon his forehead, but Time seemed to have touched him gently, remembering how kind he was to others. The pleasant curves about his mouth were the memorials of many friendly words and cheery laughs, his eyes were never cold or hard, and his big hand had a warm, strong grasp that was more expressive than words.

His very clothes seemed to partake of the hospitable nature of the wearer. They looked as if they were at ease, and liked to make him comfortable. His capacious waistcoat was sugges- tive of a large heart underneath. His rusty coat had a social air, and the baggy pockets plainly proved that little hands often went in empty and came out full. His very boots were benevolent, and his collars never stiff and raspy like other people's.

Concord, couple years later, Fritz comes courting

A stealthy glance now and then refreshed her like sips of fresh water after a dusty walk, for the sidelong peeps showed her several propitious omens. Mr. Bhaer's face had lost the absent-minded expression, and looked all alive with interest in the present moment, actually young and handsome, she thought

"Dear old fellow! He couldn't have got himself up with more care if he'd been going a-wooing," said Jo to herself, and then a sudden thought born of the words made her blush so dreadfully that she had to drop her ball, and go down after it to hide her face

Why is Laurie so much better and mature in this book scene, than in any movie adaptations?.

The song was considered a great success, and the singer retired covered with laurels. But a few minutes afterward, he forgot his manners entirely, and stared at Amy putting on her bonnet, for she had been introduced simply as `my sister', and on one had called her by her new name since her came. He forgot himself still further when Laurie said, in his most gracious manner, at parting...

"My wife and I are very glad to meet you, sir. Please remember that there is always a welcome waiting for you over the way."

Then the Professor thanked him so heartily and looked so suddenly illuminated with satisfaction, that Laurie thought him the most delightfully demonstrative old fellow he ever met.

The Umbrella & love confessions, damn girl, Jo really loves his “Jove-like” forehead 

It was certainly proposing under difficulties, for even if he had desired to do so, Mr. Bhaer could not go down upon his knees, on account of the mud. Neither could he offer Jo his hand, except figuratively, for both were full. Much less could he indulge in tender remonstrations in the open street, though he was near it. So the only way in which he could express his rapture was to look at her, with an expression which glorified his face to such a degree that there actually seemed to be little rainbows in the drops that sparkled on his beard. If he had not loved Jo very much, I don't think he could have done it then, for she looked far from lovely, with her skirts in a deplorable state, her rubber boots splashed to the ankle, and her bonnet a ruin. Fortunately, Mr. Bhaer considered her the most beautiful woman living, and she found him more `Jove-like" than ever, though his hatbrim was quite limp with the little rills trickling thence upon his shoulders (for he held the umbrella all over Jo), and every finger of his gloves needed mending.

Jo never, never would learn to be proper, for when he said that as they stood upon the steps, she just put both hands into his, whispering tenderly, "Not empty now," and stooping down, kissed her Friedrich under the umbrella. It was dreadful, but she would have done it if the flock of draggle-tailed sparrows on the hedge had been human beings, for she was very far gone indeed, and quite regardless of everything but her own happiness. Though it came in such a very simple guise, that was the crowning moment of both their lives, when, turning from the night and storm and loneliness to the household light and warmth and peace waiting to receive them, with a glad "Welcome home!" Jo led her lover in, and shut the door.

#there is of course a lot more but this is darn cute #two fools in the rain #jo and friedrich #jo march #Friedrich Bhaer #Little Women #otpnotemptynow

[yourdeepestfathoms]

We All Still Die (part three)

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

Part 1 Part 2

This part is way shorter than the others, I usually will put in as much content as I can until I reach the word limit, but I felt like it and the events after it deserved its own post.

TW: Beheading, blood

———————

It felt sort of inappropriate how gorgeous and sunny it was outside, an early morning full of whistling birdsong and humming bumblebees among crimson and gold roses.

Thousands of bodies pressed against each other in the yard, fidgeting, quivering, waiting to see the execution that was announced to them. Some didn’t believe it- that there was no possible way the king was really going to send his wife to her death, while others were already praying for the queen’s smooth transition into heaven. But then the executioner took to the scaffold and they all knew that this was going to happen. That this was real, whether they liked it or not.

There are many rumors regarding the dungeon tower. Some say there are ghosts of the people that had been tortured to death inside. Others talk about how the place breaks down a person’s mental stability. Even the guards go mad, they say. After just two weeks of being there, the queen and her ladies start to think they may have a point, whoever they are. Everything about the tiny, grimy cell made them feel miserable.

And yet, Anne emerged from her prison as poised and regal as always.

Joan didn’t walk beside her mistress. She was near the back of the pack, with a few other maids of waiting who were to accompany Anne up on the scaffolding. The girl to her left was already crying- she had been since yesterday. The one to her right was very pale and muttering to herself with her hands clasped together tightly. There was supposed to be another, but she had ran away screaming, unable to go out and watch. Nobody went after her.

Anne was reading a small prayer book as she walked down to her stage. It was similar to the ones she had given all her maids and ladies in waiting, but this one had a beautiful gold covering wrapped all the way around it that glittered in the sunshine. Occasionally, she would glance over her shoulder and Joan so desperately wanted to meet her eyes, but the gaze would always slide right past her. Who was she looking for?

Joan watched as she tucked the prayer book away and began to hand out coins to the poorer people in the crowd. Her heart ached. Even in her final hour, Anne continued to be absolutely lovely.

They soon reached the scaffolding. It was swaddled in expensive black velvet and so built high that all who were present could see the spectacle. Thick clouds of straw were strewn across the ebony-swathed floor to soak up the blood.

Blood. There would be blood.

Anne paused for a moment and then pressed the golden prayer book into Maggie’s hands. She gave her friend a warm smile, then turned away. Joan swore the strangled whine Maggie made could be heard throughout the entire plaza.

The swordsman knelt before the queen, begging for her forgiveness. Joan stared at him as he whispered with her mistress, so desperately wanting to yell, “Don’t do it! If you want to be forgiven, then don’t do it! Don’t take her away!”

But he stood again, now white-knuckling a pouch of coins the queen had passed to him as payment for her own decapitation. He tucked it away. Joan wanted to jam every piece of gold he was given down his throat.

Anne soon began to speak. Her voice was as dignified and confident as it always ways, strong and booming across the crowd of thousands of onlookers. She asked to be pardoned of her sins, praised the king as a fair and gentle man, and requested that the audience prayed for her. Her words never stammered, never quivered- she spoke clearly and smoothly, despite the blunted, gleaming axe mere feet away from her.

Everyone had believed the queen could do anything. Win any battle, settle any argument, simply by appearing and having the innate ability to fix everything. The queen who was never shaken, who never faltered. Maybe sometimes she’d believed it, too. And, as she stood upon that scaffolding announcing her final words to the crowd, that theory was proven.

But nobody had ever told Joan just how much the tears from that fact would hurt, and now as they fell from her eyes in a stream of her anguish and heartache, she could not imagine anything being worse than this. The feeling wracked itself up and down her body. The amount of frustration to have the one thing that was good in your life right in front of you, just an inch or centimeter from a safe grasp, but know that a greater power was keeping it withheld.

It makes Joan detest the court that she had thought saved her from a life of crime and starvation, the sting from her queen’s unjust beheading aiding her wounds to a fiery point. She wanted to blame someone, there must be a way to help the pain, but she knew that her wanting to blame someone for this is exactly the same thing as the people wanting to blame her queen for what happened. It was frustrating that now she knew what it felt like and it would make her a hypocrite to feel so.

There is no possible way to describe in words what it is like to literally watch as someone you looked up to is murdered and know you have absolutely nothing you can do about it. You can try, so Joan does in hopes of averting her mind to something- anything, but after a few moments of coming up blank, she released a quiet sob and wrung her hands together in her dress, leaning against the maid beside her for support. The girl does not mind, in fact she tipped her head and cried into Joan’s hair. Joan doesn’t even know her name.

It’s not right and it’s not fair. In her mind all she can do is imagine the things that went wrong and every little thing she could have done differently to have caused a better outcome of events. All the small trivial matters that she should have done differently, but knowing there is nothing she can do about the past reminded her of the simple fact that she could not have saved Anne even if she had tried and it only made the knots in her chest tighten.

Awareness returned slowly. Joan sniffled through the haze of oncoming tears and saw Anne disrobing on her own. Maggie stood by petrified, too scared and shaking too much to help. Anne knew this, and so she gave her dear friend a warm smile to let her know that it was alright. Maggie nearly wailed.

The ermine-trimmed cloak, necklace, hood, and grey damask gown Anne had been clad in were discarded in a smooth movement. Beneath it, she wore a scarlet kirtle.

Scarlet, the color of martyrs, Joan would later learn.

Scarlet, the color of the queen’s blood, Joan already knew.

Anne tucked her luscious brown hair into a white cap. Joan hoped for a few strands to fall out, to buy her some more time, but she bunched it all away in the headdress, leaving her pale neck bare to the world.

And then, she knelt.

Joan’s insides felt hot, like they were being burnt with coal. She felt the maid at her side reach up weakly and grip onto her arm with both hands. Her nails are digging into the flesh beneath her sleeves, but the pain brought clarity. Awareness that she didn’t really want.

She wished John was there. Not to take the place of the queen’s neck that would soon be beneath a bloodied blade, but so she could have someone to have for support because she felt so weak right now, so damn weak. Weaker and more vulnerable than she had when he disappeared, which had been impossible for her to get over at that time.

But that’s exactly why he wasn’t there. And Joan cursed him for hiding away, wherever he was, and sitting by like a coward as his sister is tortured with the sight of an unjust murder, of an overwhelming anguish and trauma that would infect her mind and soul for the rest of her life.

On the floor before her, knelt on a red cushioned pillow that couldn’t possibly soften the blow they were all about to get, Anne began to pray. Joan couldn’t tell what she was saying- she couldn’t tell if she was whispering too softly to be heard or talking out loud and Joan’s senses were just buzzing too much to understand her. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to hear her mistress’ final words at all.

And then, she heard them. Because, one by one, the thousands of the people in the crowd got on their knees in the grass and prayed with their queen.

Joan watched in morbid awe at the sight set before her. Tears slipped out and ran freely down her face.

They didn’t want Anne to die. These people wanted Anne to live. They wanted her to be forgiven.

But then the executioner took the beheading axe in his hands and stepped towards the queen.

Joan flinched away. The girl hanging onto her flinched, too, then held tighter to her arm.

“Bring me my sword!”

Those words echoed in Joan’s head. For a moment, she didn’t even know if they were real, if they had truly been spoken, but then she saw the executioner sweep up a sword hidden beneath the straw.

Anne was still to die, but at least it would be at the mercy of a stronger blade.

Joan felt a tickle against her palm; an older lady in waiting she’s never spoken to before has grabbed her hands. She stared up at the woman, who glanced back down at her with a somber expression. This one wasn’t crying, but she was very pale.

There was a shift at her side; two other ladies in waiting have covered the eyes of the maids that had come up with Joan. Joan’s eyes are shielded, too, by the woman holding her hand, but she grabbed her fingers and peeked out just in time to see the sword flash in the sun and come down on her mistress’ neck.

Cannons atop the Tower walls boomed to announce the death of the queen of England, but not even they were as loud as the scream Maggie made.

The sound was like nothing Joan had ever heard before. It was an anguished, terrible noise that was so intense and powerful that Maggie blew her voice out within an instant, and even then she kept screaming.

She lunged forward, but the hands of the executioner and semi-calmer ladies in waiting alike grapple her arms, holding her back. She was severely outnumbered, but she fought like a cornered tiger, kicking and punching and scratching and spitting until she wiggled free and collapsed forward as if all her bones had melted. She scampered through the wet straw, which was getting wetter and darker with blood by the second, and grabbed Anne’s rolling head.

Joan wished she had kept her eyes covered.

Maggie was still screaming that terrible, strangled scream, rocking back and forth on the bloody stage, holding her dear friend’s head close to her chest. Someone to Joan’s left tipped to the side and vomited. Another lady in waiting had fainted before the sword even met Anne’s neck and her friend was hunched over her fallen body, weeping, “It’s over, Bea! It’s over! The queen is dead!” The woman holding Joan’s hand just stared at the pandemonium on the scaffolding in pity, shaking her head, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She didn’t let go of Joan’s hand.

Joan never did get her name.

———

Maggie had carried Anne’s head back to the castle. It had taken four guards to pry it away from her grasp when it was time for the funeral.

Joan was deemed “well enough” by someone with short hair and cruel, wolf-like eyes, so she helped carry the queen’s body. She still remembers the feeling of some of Anne’s blood sliding down her face.

———

Joan spoke no words at Anne’s funeral. She stood near the back, watching as others said their goodbyes. Maggie clung to the casket the longest, making miserable noises and weeping onto the corpse of her dear friend. She kept saying “I’m sorry” over and over again and muttered things in a different language that Joan couldn’t understand. She had to be guided away by another lady in waiting, who rubbed her back and whispered comforting things, but they were unheard in Maggie’s despair-deaf ears.

Before the casket was put in the ground, Joan caught a final glimpse of the queen and the head that had been crudely sewn back onto her neck.

———

“I’m leaving.”

Joan trembled as Maggie told her this. The older woman trembled, too, with permanent anguish that has rooted itself inside of her and with outrage. Joan knew what she was so angry about. They all had heard about how Henry went to celebrate with Jane Seymour after the cannon fires announcing his wife’s death.

“She’s going to have his baby.” Maggie hissed bitterly. “I know she is. And I can’t stay. Not when she—” She shut her eyes tightly for a moment and took several deep breaths that did little to calm her. “I can’t stay.”

“I understand.” Joan whispered. “But don’t you- don’t you want to get revenge?”

For a moment, Maggie almost looked amused. A tiny, ghost of a smile twitched on her lips.

“Silly girl.” She said. “Do you?”

Joan shrugged, looking away.

“She’ll get what’s coming to her.” Maggie said. Something flashed in her eyes- bloodlust? “God won’t let her sins go unpunished. She will pay for what she’s done.”

Joan nodded. She watched as Maggie’s hands slid to her belly, which was slightly swollen. A month prior, she remembered seeing Anne playfully caressing the woman’s stomach, cooing about how she was going to be the best godmother ever.

“I felt a kick!” The queen had exclaimed, peeking up, eyes glowing.

“You jellyfish,” Maggie had flicked her. “I’m not that far along yet.”

“No, I definitely felt something.” Anne had assured her. She gently cupped the small bump, leaning her head in close. “This little one is so excited to meet their god mama that they kick early! Isn’t that right, Maggie Jr.?”

“Maggie Jr.?” Maggie had echoed, giggling. “I am NOT naming my baby Maggie Jr. One of me is enough.”

“Not for me.” Anne had said, flashing her a grin before she went back to gazing at her belly. “Maggie ii. It’s perfect!”

“And what if it’s a boy?”

“Then you name him Hercules! Something strong and powerful!”

“Hercules? Really?”

“What? I read!”

The memory dissolved away, as did the laughter that had bubbled up from the final comment. Joan blinked a few times. In front of her, Maggie was rubbing slow, gentle circles against her stomach.

“If it’s a girl,” She whispered, “I’m going to name her Anne.”

Joan smiled weakly. “I’m sure Anne would be very proud. She’d like that a lot.”

Tears welled up in Maggie’s eyes, but she blinked them away.

“You think so?” She asked softly.

“Of course.” Joan answered.

Maggie nodded. “Thank you.” She glanced over her shoulder for a moment. “I have to go now. Goodbye, Joan. And be careful.”

With that, she was gone.

Joan never saw her again.

———

Being the maid of honor to the woman who stole the place of your former employer was sickening and horrifying and awful. When Jane had come to Joan with the offer, she had a sickly sweet smile on her lips, knowing full well that Joan wouldn’t have the courage to say no.

Perhaps that’s why she did it in the first place. Out of spite.

Joan didn’t know the other maids of honor at the wedding. They were all older than her and looked at her as if she were a worm on the end of a fishhook. They sneered at her lingering trauma of Anne’s execution and would mutter about her needing to “get over it” but never said it to her face.

After the ceremony, Joan stood among a crowd of people she didn’t know. Even when she managed to wiggle free into a clearer space, she still couldn’t see anyone she knew. Elizabeth wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Even Mary wasn’t around to mock her or try to swoon with an older man.

She was alone, Joan realized.

As she always would be.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #six fanfiction #anne boleyn #jane seymour #maggie on the guitar #joan on the keys #king henry viii #tw: blood #tw: beheading #we all still die

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 36 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: So I hate to announce it, but the end of Alone, Together is coming.  I’ve planned out 40 chapters to the story, which means it will be ending soon.  Please do not fear – I have planned at least four one-shots for the future, and still might do blurbs of scenes you guys requested I write about since they weren’t included in chapters.  Canon questions are ALWAYS welcome, even when I’m finished writing.  It has been such a wild journey and I cannot wait for you guys to see what is in store for Morgan and Bee in the last chapters and in the future!

“How beautiful is this?!” Bee exclaimed to nobody in particular as she stood atop the first step that descended down on the Capilano Suspension Bridge.  She knew what it looked like because she had Googled it before, so she knew exactly what to expect.  But researching something online and seeing what it looked like was completely different than seeing it in person, and Bee was…flabbergasted.  Overwhelmed.  The beauty that surrounded her on this gorgeous sunny day was unparalleled.  Everything she experienced on the West Coast just kept getting better and better.  The roar of the river flowing beneath the bridge, and the trees – there were so many beautiful trees surrounding the canyon – she just couldn’t get enough.  It was like something out of a fairytale or book; an unpublished Tolkien novel about paradise.  

“Isn’t it, though?” Shirley smiled from ear to ear, seeing Bee’s enthusiasm and excitement about the bridge and the scenery.  “Wait till we actually get on the bridge.  You feel like you’re a bird walking up here!”

“I feel like in a past life I must have been a woodland creature,” Bee said.  “Everything about this is so beautiful.  And I feel so…I don’t know, calm.  Excited, but calm.”

“That’s what a temperate west coast rainforest will do to you,” Andy piped up from behind them, causing them to laugh.  “Ready?”

Bee took one last look upwards, taking in all the trees and foliage, before setting her sights on the bridge in front of her.  She wasn’t too scared of heights, per se, but the logistics of the suspension bridge freaked her out a little bit, and, well, it was a long drop down, regardless of how beautiful everything else was around her.  She hesitated for a moment, mentally preparing herself to take the first steps down, when she felt Morgan’s hands grab at her waist quickly before sliding them over to grab her hand.  He squeezed it gently and appeared at her side.  

“You can do this,” he said gently, nodding his head.  “You want me to go first?”

Bee shook her head.  “Just…let’s go together.”

“Okay.  Let’s go together.”

They both took another step down.  And another.  And another.  Then, slowly, slowly, walking along the bridge.  Bee kept her eyes on her feet the entire time.  She could see the black of her shoes and the brown of the bridge.  She didn’t know how far she’d gone – if she’s gone far at all – and assumed Andy and Shirley had probably already made their way to the other side by now.  

“Look up, Bumblebee,” she heard Morgan’s soft voice.  

When she did, she was greeted with the vast openness of the bridge, the crisp air, the lush greens of the trees, and the rushing blue water of the river beneath them.  A smile crept its way onto her face, slowly, as she took in the sights before her.  “Wow…” she whispered to herself in amazement, trying to internalize the moment.  She looked beside her, to Morgan, already smiling at her.  “Wow.”

“Wow indeed.  You ready to keep going?”

Bee nodded her head.  In the distance, she saw Andy flailing his arms about, trying to get their attention.  Shirley, in front of him, was holding her phone up to take a picture.  “I think your parents might have other plans,” she nodded her head towards them.

Morgan didn’t hesitate.  He wrapped his arms around her body, turning their bodies towards his parents, and rested his chin on the top of her head.  Shirley gave big thumbs up.  Bee was smiling from ear to ear.

***

Bee had never been on such a long bike ride in her life.  She’d taken her fair share of bike rides around Toronto – usually up in the suburbs, in the neighbourhood where Rocco and Clarette lived, since biking on major streets downtown scared the living shit out of her – but this was different.  When she had agreed to go on a bike ride with Morgan in Stanley Park, the famous expansive park in downtown Vancouver, she thought it would be a short ride.  Morgan clearly had other things in mind.  They started their journey at the Stanley Park Lawn Bowling Club, riding along the perimeter of the park before stopping halfway to take pictures near the Lions Gate Bridge.  They then mounted their bikes again, following the paths that went directly through the middle of the park, amongst the hundred year old trees, until they finally reached the Vancouver Seawall, yet another scenic destination, overlooking the Vancouver Harbour and all the tall, glass condo buildings in the West End and Gastown.

It was only then that they truly descended off their bikes – taking photos together, getting strangers to take pictures of them – before they brought their bikes underneath a tree, leaned them against the wide trunk, and laid down on the grass.  “My thighs feel like they’re on fire,” Bee mumbled as she plopped down onto the grass, spreading out her limbs for dramatic effect.  

She heard Morgan chuckle slightly.  “Maybe I can help with that,” he hummed, his hand immediately going to her thigh.

She slapped it away instantly.  “We are in a public God damn park, Morgan Frederick Rielly.  Put your hand away.”

He snorted.  “I was just gonna massage.”

“Sure.”  

“Stop making fun of my primal urges.”

“It’s called public indecency and they will arrest us in this park.”

“They might arrest you for being so hot you’d start a forest fire.”

Bee did the most dramatic eye roll in the history of eye rolls before scoffing at the comment.  Morgan could only laugh at the disgusted face she was making.  “Oh my fucking God, Morgan.  You are literally the absolute worst, you know that?  Like, I’m not even joking.  The worst.”

“You love me.”

“You’re lucky I do or else a comment like that would warrant a 72 hour sex ban for being literally the corniest thing to come out of anyone’s mouth in the history of humanity.”

Morgan pretended to scoff back at her.  “You’re mean when you’re tired!”

“You’re so hot you’d start a forest fire,” she mimicked his deep voice.  “The literal worst,” she laid back down flat on the grass.

“Get over here,” he grumbled playfully, rolling over so he was on his side, propping himself on his elbow as he draped his arm over her.  He leaned his head down slightly to kiss her, and for all her teasing, her dramatic eyerolls and her scoffing at his corny comments, she kissed him back readily.  “I love you,” he mumbled into her lips.

“I love you too.”

He kissed her again.  “Did you enjoy the bike ride?”

She nodded her head.  “This place is beautiful.  You always take me to the coolest and most beautiful places and it makes me never want to leave.  I’m tired and I’m red as a tomato but I could have stayed biking on that path forever.”

“I just want you to see how beautiful it is out here,” he said.  

“Can we build a house along the path we just went on?  Right in the middle of the trees?”

Morgan chuckled slightly as he dipped down, resting his head on her chest.  “You just tell me where, baby, and I’ll build it.”

***

“Morgan.”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think?”

They were on a boat in the middle of the Georgia Strait, watching the sunset again before making their way over to Gibsons to spend the day there.  Both were both already fully clothed, at Morgan’s insistence so they could start the day early – Bee in a sundress and him in his usual slacks and t-shirt – and he had taken it upon himself to cuddle with her again under a blanket as they watched the sunrise from the boat.  Just like last time, except Maggie had to stay home since she probably couldn’t handle an entire day out and about in Gibsons.  The boat ride was going to be tranquil, too.  Just like last time.

Morgan, apparently, had ulterior motives.  

Bee’s breath had hitched in her throat when she first felt Morgan’s hand slip and wiggle its way between her thighs.  His hand stayed dormant for a while, almost as if he had just put it in between her thighs to warm it (the crisp morning air was a bit nippy), but slowly, slowly, his hand kept sliding up, and when he was finally close enough, he began moving her panties out of the way.  That’s when she spoke up.  “Really?  Now?”  

“Always.”

“But what if we get caught?”

“By who?  The people in the other boats?” he asked sarcastically.  It was 5:30am and they were the only boat out for miles.  

Bee’s breath hitched in her throat again as she felt one of his fingers gliding along her lips lightly.  Just as she had planned that little surprise when they were in Kelowna, he had been planning this, apparently.  He knew exactly what he was doing when he told her to get dressed that morning and had made the comment about the sundress being cute and ‘very appropriate’ for the coastal town of Gibsons.  “I seriously don’t know where you get all this energy from.  Not that I’m complaining, cause I’d ride your dick across the Pacific Ocean if I could.”

Morgan smirked.  “I told you that my New Year’s Resolution was to have more sex with you.  I’m not one to break a resolution.”

“You’ve broken your clean eating during the season resolution like, every week since you’ve made it.”

“That’s different.  This is sex with you,” he stressed, causing her to laugh lightly. 

The only problem with Morgan’s surprise was that he wanted to take it slow.  Like, painstakingly slow.  Glacial pace slow.  Geologic time slow.  He teased the lips of her pussy much longer than Bee would have liked, and inserted only one finger after what felt like half an hour.  To make matters worse, he was talking to her and holding a conversation as if he wasn’t fingering her on the Goddamn boat, forcing her to participate instead of relishing in the feeling.  Her mind kept going back and forth – from talking about what book he should read next to the tingle making its way up her spine as he curled his finger in her slowly.  He was teasing her, putting her through psychological warfare, and he knew it, and it was all part of his plan.

She hated him.  But fuck, she loved it.

Another finger slipped in after a while.  As was standard, she found it harder and harder to concentrate on whatever words were coming out of Morgan’s mouth as his fingers moved lazily inside of her – she tried to keep the conversation, she really did, but with each movement and each further tease of his thumb near her clit, she was getting more and more sensitive.  Her body was already flush with heat.  “Morgan.”

“Yeah baby?”

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”

“Why?” he asked with fake innocence, at the same time curling his fingers in her, causing her to squeeze her thighs together.

“Really?” she demanded.

“You want me to stop?”

She glared at him.  “If you stop I’m throwing you overboard.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said, a third finger now slipping in so painstakingly slow she gave throwing him overboard a serious thought.  She squirmed slightly, trying to maintain her position but knowing it could change at any moment.  He began placing butterfly kisses on her shoulder, moving up to her neck.  She closed her eyes.  “Feels good?” he asked.

She could only nod her head as she let out a sigh, finally concentrating on the feeling of his three fingers inside of her.  If he was done playing his games, she was done playing them too.  “Your fingers always feel good inside me,” she whispered.

“You remember when we were doing this before Auston’s New Year’s Eve party?” he asked.  She nodded her head again, a smile creeping its way onto her face.  “I could have stayed home that entire night and fucked you senseless if you had let me.”

“I was a bit more naïve back then,” she joked.  “I wanted to make a good impression on your friends.  I thought if we didn’t show up Auston would hate me.”

“Auston could never hate you.”

“At least we got to see him make out with a cupcake.”

Morgan snorted, his nose and lips grazing the skin of her neck as he chuckled.  “Does he know you have that video?”

“No.”

“Keep it that way,” he giggled, biting down on her skin gently.  “And you remember Valentine’s Day?”

Did she remember Valentine’s Day?  What kind of question was that?  The question should have been ‘Do you remember the time I fucked you senseless with my hand four fingers deep in your pussy?’  She found herself nodding her head again as he curled his fingers, causing her to squirm.  “How could I forget?” she asked, an obvious strain in her voice.  

“If I remember correctly, I’m one finger short of how I was fucking you that night,” Morgan said, his voice low.  His thumb finally, finally attached itself to her clit, lazily rubbing circles.  Bee bit down on her lip.  She couldn’t help but try to move her hips so he could go deeper.  “Fuck Bee, you’re desperate aren’t you?”

“You fucking know I’m desperate,” she whispered harshly.  “I’m so fucking hot and so fucking wet and I’m ready to fucking explode, Morgan.”

“Guess I better go slower, then.  Tease you a little more,” he whispered in her ear, removing his thumb from her clit.

“Morgan Frederick Rielly, your fingers have been in my pussy for more than a fucking hour.  If you take any longer I will not be held legally responsible for what I will do to you.”

Morgan chuckled.  A low, hearty chuckle as he bit down on the skin of her neck again.  She wondered if he was leaving marks.  “All you have to do is say the magic words, baby,” his voice was so achingly sweet.

“I want to cum, Morgan.”

“Those aren’t the magic words,” his thumb grazed her clit teasingly.

She took a deep breath.  He was really going to make her do this on a fucking boat in the middle of the Strait of Georgia at 6:45 in the morning.  “I want to cum, Mr. Rielly.”

“That’s a good girl,” he said, his thumb finally beginning to rub circles again, all three of his fingers curling inside of her, causing her to squirm.  He continued his movements at a steady pace – nothing too fast or slow – and could feel her wetness building and her body getting more and more heated.  

Morgan saw the moment she closed her eyes, unable to take it anymore.  They were both silent as her orgasm tore through her entire body, powerful and long, leaving her body shaking and squirming for a while.  Morgan didn’t stop – really, did he ever? – until her hand reached in between her thighs to grab his.  His fingers left her pussy, and she watched through hooded eyes as he brought them to his mouth and sucked on them, tasting her juices.  

“Are you hard?” she asked quickly.

“Yeah.”

“Let me sit on your cock, Morgan.”

He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants quickly, shoving them half way down his legs as he saw Bee stand and bunch up the skirt of her dress around her hips.  She moved to stand in between his knees, facing away from him as she lowered herself onto his lap.  He moved her panties with one hand and grabbed his cock with the other, guiding it into her, and she began bouncing up and down in no time, her hands leaving her dress and squeezing onto his thighs, her nails digging into his skin.  

For all his teasing of her, he knew he wouldn’t last long like this.  Bee bouncing on his cock was probably his favourite view – never mind that beyond her was one of the most beautiful sunrises, with some of the most beautiful scenery in the world.  He could watch his cock disappear into her pussy all day.

“You’re lucky I’m not as big a tease as you are,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder to look back at him.  

“I don’t know about that,” he grunted, his hands going underneath the fabric of her dress to grab her ass.  “You existing is a tease to me.”

“Cheeky.”

“I see something else that’s cheeky.”

She smacked his thigh playfully.  “I love you, Morgan.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Are you close?”

He nodded his head.  “I want you to cum again too, baby.  With me.”

She nodded her head, turning back around.  After a few more minutes, he felt her walls clench around his cock again, and she cried out his name.  He steadied her bouncing as he came inside of her, never ever getting tired of the feeling of filling her up.  She leaned back into his chest, his cock slipping out of her as he wrapped his arm around her.  They were both breathing heavily as they came down from their highs, Morgan peppering Bee’s shoulder and neck with light kisses.

“I love you,” Bee repeated her earlier sentiments.  “So damn much.  You have no idea.”

“I love you too, Bumblebee.  More than anything.”

***

“Out of all the amazing restaurants downtown…I have to say, the backyard of the Rielly house is my favourite place to eat,” Bee said, leaning back in her chair as she swallowed the last bit of perfectly grilled filet mignon.  She turned her head to look at Morgan sitting beside her, smiling.  “That filet was great.”

“I thought it was a bit salty,” Connor joked, garnering a sneer from Morgan and a laugh from Bee.  “Whoever seasoned the vegetables did a much better job.”

“You’re just saying that so mom will slice you a bigger piece of cheesecake,” Morgan snarled.  “Don’t fall for it, mum.  That steak was grilled perfectly medium rare.”

“Oh alright you two,” Shirley waved off her quarrelling boys.  “You’re both getting a big fat slice of cheesecake.  No need to butter me up about it.”

“Reminds me of the time you boys were fighting over who was giving the homeless people at the shelter bigger portions of turkey for Thanksgiving,” Andy quipped.  “Everything was always a competition with you two when you were younger.  How old were you boys?”

“I was twelve,” Morgan remembered.  “It was two years before I left for Notre Dame.”

“Yeah, I was in my first year of high school,” Connor nodded his head before focusing his attention back on his brother.  “Have the Leafs kept doing that Covenant House volunteering for the holidays?”

“Every year,” Morgan nodded his head.  

“Have you joined in?” Andy asked.

“Of course.”

“I’d like to get in on that next time…if I can,” Bee piped up.  “I used to be on the receiving end of that sort of stuff.  It’d be nice to give back.”

Morgan gave her a look.  He wasn’t exactly shocked that she’d want to do volunteer work – this was Bee, after all – but to him, her tone sounded like she had been waiting to say this for a very long time.  “Really?”

Bee looked at Morgan as if it was the most obvious choice in the world.  “It’s been almost a year now.  I think it’s about time.”

“You must have discussed it with some of the other girls, then,” Shirley offered.

“I’ve actually discussed this with Aryne Tavares,” Bee said.  “We’ve talked about it a lot, actually.  She did a lot of charity work down in Long Island and she’s been continuing it in Toronto, and I think it’s time for me to start too.  I’m actually going with her to Sick Kids when we get back to Toronto, but I’m thinking there’s other stuff I can do, too.”

Morgan should have known she had already started this discussion with Aryne.  “That’s great news, Bee,” Shirley smiled.  “What were you thinking?”

“Well the Leafs have always had a relationship with Sick Kids Hospital – I know Morgan goes there a lot too, has been there a lot, so that’s one,” she began.  “Since we got Brucey from the Humane Society I thought of maybe doing something with them…like, promoting adoption drives and stuff like that.  Literacy programs too – going into elementary schools and promoting reading to kids,” she continued.  Morgan could tell her tone was getting more nervous the more she spoke.  “And…um, Aryne and I have been talking, and I think, uh, it’s really good, cause, well, it’s really important to me that, uh…I get involved in something like Alateen.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, everybody around the table digesting what Bee just revealed to them.  Morgan barely blinked.  Connor was nodding his head slowly.  Andy and Shirley looked like they were still listening intently – like they hadn’t processed the information yet.  It was only until Andy spoke up that Bee felt the weight lift off her shoulders.  “That’s very honourable of you, Briony.”

“I haven’t um, looked into it yet or anything.  It’s just a very basic idea,” Bee felt the need to explain herself.  “It’s just that, you know, I could have used a mentor growing up in that situation.  Somebody to sort of guide me through.  Not somebody to tell me that everything was going to be okay, because I knew things weren’t going to be okay, but at least somebody to speak to.  And I think of all the kids – all the teens – who are going through what I went through, and it just feels right to try to help them.  Nobody really…I didn’t know these resources existed growing up – mostly because I lied to my teachers, because I’m sure they would have told me – but I just think that I could…you know…provide some insight.  Some help.  However I can.”

She felt Morgan grab her hand underneath the table and squeeze it tightly.  Connor was nodding his head approvingly now, as were Andy and Shirley.  “That’s fantastic Bee.  You’d be great at that,” Shirley said.  “You have built such a successful life for yourself, and you can be a real role model for those kids.  They’ll be able to see someone who powered through, who survived, who got an education and is working and is making a success out of herself.”

“Yeah,” Bee nodded her head.  “Um, I know I’m gonna need to clear it.  I know it’s a very touchy subject for a lot of people and I don’t know if it’ll get approved or whatever, but it’s something I’d like to do.  If not now, in the future.  And if I can’t do it with the Lady Leafs, then maybe through Scotiabank.  Or on my own.  I don’t know.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Andy affirmed, swirling the remainder of his wine around in his glass.  “I think you were meant for something like that.”

***

Andy and Shirley didn’t have rules this time – however imposed or unimposed they were the first time around in January – so Bee and Morgan slept in the same bed, his bed, that night after dinner.  They were spooning – on their sides cradled into one another, Morgan’s arm draped over Bee and Bee’s legs curled into his – just enjoying each other’s warmth.  The sun had set long ago but the light from the moon illuminated the room slightly.

They were staring into each other’s eyes.  They had been since they lay down together.  Morgan initiated it and had barely stopped.  Bee could only indulge him.  

“You’re the strongest girl in the world, you know that?” he whispered, his voice low and soft.  “After all you’ve been through, after all you’ve had to overcome, you’re still willing to talk about your experience.  I don’t know if I’d be able to do something like that.”

“It’s never something I’ve backed away from.  You know that,” she said in an equally soft voice.  “I told you from the get go.  I’m not ashamed.”

“I’m just scared,” he admitted.

“About what?”

“Any scrutiny you’ll get for talking about your past and what you’ve been able to overcome.  I’ve told you how harsh the media can be.  You’ve seen how harsh the media can be.  But it’s not even…it’s the DMs.  You know how nasty they can be and those girls can be fucking crazy.  We still haven’t solved the DM issue enough for me to be confident that you’re…you know, safe.”

Bee brought her hand up, cupping his face.  “Whatever scrutiny I’ll get will be from low-lives,” she began.  “Who would go after a girl for trying to help children with alcoholic parents or relatives?  You’d have to be a special kind of dumbass, to be quite honest.”

“I know, but--”

“Besides,” she interrupted him.  “I’m a big girl.  I can handle it.  This is going to do way more good than harm because I’m not ashamed of where I came from.  Even if I just help one person, Morgan, it’s worth it.  It’s worth it to me.”

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly imagines #morgan rielly fic #morgan rielly fan fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs imagines #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fan fic #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #nhl fan fic #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey fan fic #alone together series

[zenxenophilia]

The golden Adonis

(By @oldsilentartmerya  Sequel to this story)

When he first arrived to the desert landscape of his home for one year, Tobias Løvhaug was scared but hopeful.

He was scared because of how different everything was compared to Norway, to the street and even down to the very culture. It seemed to match the over saturated postcards his uncle oftentimes collected, sans the people with those pearly white smiles in them. The only thing similar between here and there was his host family’s circular phone, same as the one his family had (even down to the curly cords that his mom liked to fiddle with while chatting to his aunts. He tried not to think of home too much though).

The music was also different. Back home they used to play anything by Jahn Teigen to Prima Vera lately, but here they played much more diverse songs like Madonna and Michael Jackson. His new favorite past time was to wind down by listening to anything on the radio on a low volume, trying to enjoy his stay much more by taking in the exciting new environment.

(Even if it was *scary.*)

It was easier to do so since no one in this commercial like country knew his well kept *secret.*

He tried to keep it that way by refraining from staring too much at the jocks while they were training, or just passing them by in the hall. He even tried not to think too much of the guys he had seen street dancing in the city, or of how the leather clad youth around his age had made his heart race like an cheetah on the prowl.

The jocks oftentimes picked on him for being a ‘pansy’, or for just being an exchange student though. But at least it was his butchered last name they hollared out, and not something *else.*

Spike Witwicky was the only one who stood up for him, and even he dealt with the brunt of his own ridicule. But Tobias guessed even the Jocks weren’t able to keep him down, seeing as he rivaled them in slight strength and confidence.

Tobias had neither.

He was shy, quiet and “a true wallflower” as one of the cheerleaders had giggly whispered when they thought he wasn’t listening.

He tried to not care too much of it, arguing that it was at least better than home.

Even if it made him feel inadequate. 

_______

During a school trip to a powerplant, he was a spectacle to something else that was truly different from home.

Giant sentient robots, fighting other sentient robots.

The teacher had originally taken them there to get a closer look at a regular 9 to 5 job, but cooperating with the time slot of murderous robots from space weren’t something a high school teacher had the salary to do so.

Tobias had huddled together with rest of the class, where even the most macho jocks refused to leave their safe haven underneath the tables.

'Cowards’ he had thought, before realizing he was hiding himself as well.

Spike meanwhile seemed cautious but not that afraid. But they soon realized he was in cahoots with the proclaimed good guys. Just seeing the small Volkswagen beetle transform into a smaller version of those robots had made his breath hitch. But he had calmed down from the warm smile the yellow bug had given him and the rest of the class, so he tried to calm his nerves when 'Bumblebee’ started to lead them to a more safe spot.

The rest of his classmates tried to stay calm by idle chatter (or egg on by how the jocks still hollared at Spike…), only to be interrupted by a screech from above.

“Slag, it’s Starscream!” their mechanical new friend had exclaimed before transforming with his weapon ready.

But before the aircraft could attack them, another autobot cybertronian (Spike had corrected them when one of the jocks had called Bumblebee a over sized robot toy) had leaped onto it with a whoop.

He watched with both horror and amazement at how the golden like being had steered the jet like a surfboard, before jumping off as the jet crashed into one of those canyons in the desert.

Tobias still couldn’t get his eyes off of him when the glorious being transformed from a wicked Lamborghini into the daredevil like metal Adonis. The rest of the class seemed to share that sentiment, from how they gathered around him with amazement and curious hands. He himself had stayed behind shyly, trying to fight down the redness he could feel spreading on his face.

They jerked back when he did with a slight sneer.

“Don’t touch me. I just waxed.”

It was then that he realized there was a dangerous flare in those blue vibrant eyes.

Tobias had backed off slightly more when he did, feeling a shiver travel from the small of his back to his neck.

But before the Adonis with eyes of a lion had left, both of them had locked gazes. His breath had hitched from the intensity of it, feeling like a mouse dangling from the paws of a very curious cat. The golden being had given him a ghost of a smile, glowing eyes intensely smoldering with a promise he only thought he had imagined.

When he had left, Bumblebee had sighed in a good-natured manner.

“Sorry about Sunstreaker folks, he seems to be in a sour mood today.”

Later that day, he had written that name all over the assignment he was supposed to hand in the next day. All while imaging kissing a certain golden autobot, wondering if those metal lips were soft to touch.

_______

He met him again when Spike decided to take him with him to some hang out place the bots had formed.

“Some of them like to race, and this was the only place Prowl found safe enough!”

He wanted to ask Spike who that was, but could only stare at his trembling hands resting on his lap as they drove in Bumblebee on a bumpy road. Spike and him idly chatted beforehand, where it was revealed that the brown haired boy wanted to show him around a bit more.

'High school can make anyone stir crazy’ Spike had said as he had slung his arm around his shoulder.

'When I first moved here, they weren’t so swell towards me or my sibs either.’

He had yet to meet Spikes younger brother or sister, or the older brother who often sent letters from the community collage he went to. If they were like Mr. Witwicky, they would hopefully be just as kind. He hoped.

Tobias only wished he had the same happy go lucky outlook the boy and the yellow bug shared, a bit jealous at how secure the boy was in his own skin.

But he soon found to be enjoying himself, even if he didn’t socialize much. The place they arrived to was some sort of valley in the canyons of the deserts, which somehow seemed like an upscaled version of some skatepark to him.

They even had created a kind of nook where the humans could watch, complete with a campfire and cooler filled with sugar filled drinks. The smaller bots ('Minibots’ Bumblebee had said warmly), gathered with them to drink their own poison. Laughing and jesting with each other, Tobias had just watched them quietly with a cold can of soda warming up in his hands. He didn’t talk much, but his shoulders began to slowly relax from the stiff posture it had been in the past days. Spike regularly checked up on him, but mostly left him be.

But he still felt like he was being stared at…

So when Sunstreaker had corned him later that evening, he had felt weak in his knees. The sheer intensity and *want* had surprised Tobias really, never really expecting anyone to reprocate his feelings.

Sunstreaker was such an enigma, moving like a tiger on the hunt for something new. But there was a gentleness in the way he handled him, from the way his giant fingers rubbed his cold body when the wind had passed them by.

But he still felt a bit… Worried by the underlying darkness in the beautiful eyes that had stared at him, and later how tight the seat belts were on him when Sunstreaker had offered to drive him home.

Spike had been surprised, and had asked him the next day if he got home safely the next day at school.

He could only nod, absentmindly touching his lips when thinking of how the bot had startled him by surprising him with a kiss by using a holographic form of himself that had appeared when he was dropped off a few blocks from his host home. The sudden image of a racer in a thigh suit and golden locks framing his face had startled him, but soon that form would also haunted his dreams.

The kiss was sweet… But demanding, overpowering also. As if he leaned with him whenever Tobias tried to break it when he thought he saw someone. The growl that had left Sunny when a group came around the corner made him thoughtful, along with the iron grip Sunstreaker had on him in that moment.

He never complained though, feeling just lucky to have found someone to be with.

Even if they whispered “mine” by every passing breath, grasping his head with a vice like grip that left his hair tousled and unkempt.

His mother would’ve been griefstruck, his father would’ve cursed up a storm. His whole family would’ve disowned him on the spot they saw him hold hands with the beautiful man who had promised him a lifetime of love and adoration.

But in the moment it was just him, and this breathtaking Adonis made of metal…

Who held him as if he never wanted to let him go.

________

From there on, they mostly met in secret.

Sunstreaker didn’t really understood why to begin with, since apparently his species view on love was much more accepting than regular humans.

It kind of made Tobias jealous, but embarrassed whenever he was caught musing about it out-loud. His golden lover had only pried his hands from his face with a chuckle, probably finding great joy in how his racer-like holoform made him blush just as much as his real form.

“You would probably be just as beautiful as a cybertronian as you are now, my beauty.”

He didn’t really understand the nickname though, wondering just what it was that his stunning boyfriend found so beautiful about him. But the mention of him being like him had made Sunny’s eyes dialate with slight excitement. (Could he…?)

But it wasn’t just that Sunstreaker would call him in bed, making Tobias wonder what the unfamiliar cybertronian words his golden lover would croon into his neck whenever the autobot ground himself into him. He remembered how surprised he had been of seeing a downsized version of the autobot, and just of how really hard but soft those lips could be.

But what made him blush even more was the deep lustful stares (possessive even) the bot would give him while pleasuring him.

It was like he was being sucked in, and forever caged between those trembling metal fingers, the hard kisses against his body leaving marks that bloomed like an old oil painting.

But they could only do so at the autobot base, even if it made the human feel caged. Sunstreaker proved to be incredibly possessive, showed by how most of the bots gave him a wide berth when the golden bot had growled with a warning.

(Spike sort of found it odd. Tobias wanted to tell him, but was too afraid of the potential rejection. He was also scared of the dark look Sunstreaker had given the brunette, only strangely stop after Bumblebee had hugged the boy and his girlfriend tightly. )

Hidden away in his lovers shared hub-suit, he tried to push away the feeling of how it reminded him of a gilded cage.

(it’s here I will stop. I never got around to finish it, but I hope it will bring you some joy zen. Love, Merya)

#sunstreaker #G1 #submission #gifts #creepy robots #yandere #I love this one so much! #I totally ship it! #XD #<3 <3 <3 #thank you so much for sending it in! #i love reading these

[feuillesmortes]

I’m about to take a social media break (I desperately need to study for grad school), but I didn’t want to do it before gifting you this update. As always, here’s a bunch of modern au headcanons stitched together in the form of fic. It’s rather long this time, but it’s worth it. Tagging my mates @queenbessofyork and @harritudur. Enjoy it!

You can read it on Ao3.

Lizzie wasn’t sure what had possessed her to accept Henry’s veiled invite for a day trip to Richmond. She only knew she had accepted it, and as a result, had spent an awfully long tube journey seated by his side, watching his Adam’s apple going up and down as he spoke pleasantries such as the day’s nice weather. Under the harsh artificial light of the carriage Lizzie noticed what a great profile he had, especially with those high cheekbones of his. Not that she hadn’t noticed it before, not really. It was rather distracting at times. Sometimes she found herself zoning out just staring at him. Embarrassing.

The day trip had a purpose: Henry was house-hunting that day and had asked Lizzie to join him, alleging he could use a woman’s opinion on the matter if she so wished to help him. Yes, house-hunting in that economy, as if Lizzie didn’t think he was minted before. Over brunch Henry had casually mentioned he had some sort of inheritance, some money left by his father that her mother intended for him to receive after his graduation. It was April, final exams were coming up, he had a job offer waiting for him at his internship company. It seemed things were looking exceedingly good for Henry so he might as well start searching for a place. Everything was great, except…

“Richmond?” Lizzie’s first reaction upon hearing his choice of borough was to repeat it back to him, like a badly trained parrot. “As in Richmond Upon Thames, zone 4?”

“Why, I thought I should give it a shot. They call it London’s happy valley for a reason, don’t you think? ” From behind his glasses, his eyes sparkled with excitement. It didn’t make Lizzie any less fidgety as she played with the rings on her fingers.

“But it’s just so… Far off.” She protested feebly. “I guess I just thought you’d pick a place near the City, or even Canary Wharf. You know, near wherever you’re going to work.”

“I don’t mind commuting, really. It’s only an eighteen-minute journey to Waterloo if a get the train. And I don’t exactly intend to spend my father’s money on a studio flat only so I could say I own property in central London.”

It was not that his arguments lacked in any sound logic. Lizzie wasn’t even sure why she was opposed to the idea in the first place. The truth is that she hadn’t dared to spend much time thinking of how things would turn out after her flatmates graduated. She knew that Rodrigo wanted to apply for a masters in international relations, so he would hopefully stay in the UK for longer. But after all that time, for some obtuse reason, she hadn’t entertained the thought that Henry could possibly choose to live far from her. Hell, he might even go back to Wales or France for all she knew. Choosing Richmond was an actual improvement when she thought of all the possible scenarios. Still, it bothered her that she could get so worked up for such a small thing as Henry’s choice of borough.

In the gentle rocking of the tube carriage, Lizzie let her mind wander as the stations passed by. Earlier at brunch the former flatmates had gone down to the pub to celebrate the end of the semester. There were still all the exams to do and a month of revision to go, but the end of lectures and a bank holiday were more than enough reason to celebrate. Lizzie and Henry had managed to convince Rodrigo to finally have his first full English breakfast, something he had resisted so far. “Your cuisine is too bland for me” was something Rodrigo used to say more often than not. And truthfully, what was a black pudding compared to a morcilla? With each bite Rodrigo did the most peculiar of faces, ranging from pleasure to disgust to… odd amusement, it seemed. Neither Lizzie nor Henry felt particularly hungry that time, so they decided to share a large order instead. Henry laid special claim to the portobello mushrooms; Lizzie got hold of the beans on toast their Spanish mate had so scornfully looked down on. Eating from the same plate, they could almost make a pretty picture.

A pretty picture. What was it that her mum said about them on the day of her hearing? “Don’t you look pretty together, the pair of you?” Ms Beaufort had gone along for the occasion and had agreed with the statement, much to Lizzie’s chagrin. Before leaving, her mother took her aside to whisper “Really, you’re sleeping on this one, Lizzie!” But instead of taking an encouraging turn, her mother’s words only soured her disposition towards the idea. What did her mum see in Henry anyway? Money? The prospect of a brilliant career much like her father’s once had been? For someone who had been accused of a gold digger her whole married life, one would think she’d have a different approach other than pushing her daughter to the first white knight that came along. Had it been five hundred years ago, Lizzie would be happy to oblige to her mother’s idea without thinking twice. As a 21st century woman, though, her mother’s insistence did not sit well with her.

It didn’t help that the estate agent also thought them a couple during the house tour in Richmond Green. “We say it’s a two-bedroom house, but you can easily turn the spare room into a third bedroom in case of guests or extra children. Have you got kids already?” Lizzie and Henry’s reaction was to simply exchange an awkward, panicking look. The agent must have confused one of her rings, or something. Lizzie decided to go for a tight-lipped smile and a simple answer. “Not yet.” She assured Henry all was well with a look. It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that happened. Still, the petite woman went on and on about how Richmond was an idyllic place to raise kids, how the Green was full with cricketers in the summer, how the valley was full of canoe clubs paddling on the Thames. “We also have excellent schools just around the corner.” She painted the location with an almost countryside atmosphere, an earthly paradise.

At the end, the house tour narrowed down to a variety of technical details. Henry made relevant questions regarding electricity, security, maintenance charges and council taxing. Lizzie didn’t hear a word of it — she had her mind very far away from it all. She wandered to the back door leading to the garden entrance where a gentle breeze was blowing, bringing the fresh smell of the woods. Spring weather had always been particularly crazy in London, going from sunny skies to hailstorms in the short space of minutes. Not that day, though. Lizzie sorved the air, the memories of the warm days of her childhood flashing behind her closed eyelids. When she was little, Lizzie and her siblings had enjoyed many sunlit days in Richmond with their father.

Right now, in that landscaped garden where busy bumblebees went about their work, she could picture a couple of kids running around the bushes, chasing a dog or two. In her dreams she always saw a little boy who looked just like her father. She could plant white roses in those flower beds, she thought suddenly. Even some red roses — they deserved their place in the garden too. Lizzie could share many lazy afternoons there with a loved someone by her side.

“Lizzie.” A hand touched her between her shoulder blades, making her jump. “I was calling for you. It’s time to go.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t hear you.” She turned around to face him and his warm hand slowly fell from her back. She almost regretted doing so instead of just… Leaning into the touch.

“Someone is zoning out much, I see?”

His eyes were positively quirky and blue, and a timid smile grew on her face, mirroring his own. “Maybe.”

God, she felt her cheeks burning. She hoped it wasn’t so blatant that only seconds ago she was daydreaming about the house. His future house, if anything else. Something Lizzie knew she had no right to at all.

But Henry seemed oblivious enough. “Come now. We should say goodbye to the agent.”

They left Sheen Road and took the path back to the station. Richmond Green was very close to the town centre, making it a great location next to the array of shops and high-end restaurants. That Sunday the streets were crowded with day trippers and costumers busy about their errands. It suits him, Lizzie thought almost bitterly. Richmond had a posh air to it, but it was not anywhere near as conceited as Kensigton or Chelsea. She could definitely picture Henry moving there. Lizzie sensed a sickening scent of early nostalgia in the air, or maybe it was just the sweetness coming from the hundreds of daffodils that lined up the streets that time of the year.

She took a deep breath and worked up the nerve to put an end to her misery. With a detached voice, she asked Henry whether or not he was going to buy the house. “Not for now, at least.” He said, after a few seconds of silence. “I’ve still got a lot to research before I can make an important decision like that. But I certainly liked the neighbourhood.“ He smiled. “I can see myself living here. I’ll be adding it to my 5-year plan.”

Lizzie felt something akin to relief washing over her, but she disguised her smile by taking a mocking tone. “You’ve got a 5-year plan? Really?” She purposely raised her eyebrows. In fact, she wasn’t even surprised. It was such a Henry thing to have a long plan.

He raised his chin, taking a prideful stance. “Like every responsible adult, yes. I do, missy.”

“I wish I were more… like you. You know, disciplined or— I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I mean, look at you! You’ve got a job already!”

“I have a job offer, which is not at all the same thing. And just because I have one it doesn’t mean it’s my dream job. It doesn’t mean it’s what I would like to do for my whole life.” He paused and turned a curious gaze to her. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

“I’ve thought…” She felt shrieking under his gaze, so she decided to look at random people on the street instead. “I’ve thought about working in education. It was not what I first had in mind, but it sort of feels right at the moment. It’s just an option, though. Nothing’s certain.”

Lizzie had always been told she was good with children. Perhaps she had acquired some skill looking after her young sisters Anne, Catherine and little Bridget. Even Cecily, who was just a few years younger than herself. She had always felt like the responsible big sister when it came to her, much to Cecily’s annoyance.

Lizzie turned her eyes back to Henry and he was listening with a very attentive expression. She held her breath to hear his opinion, but Henry simply blinked at her. “Lizzie, there are only two certain things in this life: death and taxes.”

Her shoulders shook with a soft chuckle, and she felt like relaxing again. Henry went on. “You know what you want to do. It sounds like a plan to me.”

“Blimey, no! It’s not a plan per se.” She laughed at the absurdity of that sentence. “I don’t have my shit together like you.”

“You think I’ve got my shit together, do you?”

“Well, you certainly look like you do!”

Henry winked at her. “Lizzie, it’s all about looking the part. Never let them see your weaknesses. That’s what my uncle always said to me.”

“Them who, though?”

He made a vague gesture with his hands. “Competition.”

Lizzie let out a delighted laugh, her steps bringing her closer to him. It was at that moment that she realised she didn’t feel like going home so soon. She asked him whether he had anything to do later that day. She tensed, hoping he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. But Henry only eyed her curiously. “Nothing much. You?” Good. It was so very rare for him to have spare time. They always had to drag him along to social events. So Lizzie proceeded to convince him to go to Richmond Park to watch the deer. “It’s like hunting… minus the animal-killing part and the gore, of course.” It was a favourite pastime of hers during her childhood. Telling Henry it was obligatory to go there on his first visit to Richmond seemed to close the deal.

They found a rental shop to hire a pair of bikes and finally, after some delay and some grub, off they made their way to Richmond Park. The cycle paths took them across fresh fields, under trees full of bare branches giving birth to green leaflets. All around them, life was growing back with a vengeance. It was not hard to find the deer — fallow bucks and does in particular were not shy of human presence. They got off from their bikes to approach the animals, but they couldn’t get to the deer. Many people trying to take pictures blocked their way, crowded as the park was on a Sunday. So Henry and Lizzie kept walking, taking their bikes along the grassy fields to find animals elsewhere. They stopped at a hill with a view to London, named after some king of yore. The exercise seemed to have a good effect on Henry. Lizzie had never seen him looking so peaceful.

“Richmond does good to you.” She remarked, making him turn his eyes to her. “Should I start calling you Monsieur le Comte de Richmond from now on?”

Henry gave her a wolfish smile. “Lizzie, please. Your grace will do.”

“Your grace?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you now? A duke, a king?”

“King of England, of course.”

Lizzie wrinkled her nose at him. “I don’t think old Queen Liz is going to be much pleased to hear it. Nor her son, or her grandson, or her great-grandson for that matter. What if they call you usurper?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ll have a great PR team for that.”

“Well, if you’re going to be king I’ll be queen as well. You can start calling me…” She made a dramatic pause and curtsied with a graceful motion. “Madame la Reine de France!”

Except Henry didn’t find it funny. His face turned serious and he immediately turned from her. “I’m not calling you queen of France.” He began walking again, tugging his bike along. Lizzie hurried after him and laid a hand on the handlebar to make him stop.

“Why not?”

Her eyes challenged him, dared him to tell his reason. Henry only frowned and averted her gaze. As he hesitated still, Lizzie repeated her question. Eventually he let out a sigh and looked at her again. “For one, the French will never accept it. In case you didn’t know, they’re not exactly pro-monarchy.”

“Of course not! But hypothetically speaking, I don’t see any other kingdom to suit me. Do you?”

“I could…” He looked down, sliding a foot on the grass. “I could share England with you… If you wanted.”

“You? Sharing the rule? I’m not familiar with the concept.” She took a teasing tone to dissipate the awkwardness. “We both know you won’t be sharing anything, so stop lying.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I probably won’t.” He looked back at her and smiled again. Not a completely kind smile. “But you wouldn’t mind it, would you? Leaving the boring stuff to me, and you get the charities and the galas. Come on, you’d love it.”

Lizzie gaped at him. The nerve he had for speaking such! Even if he thought so, even if it was true, he had no right to say it aloud. “You’re an insufferable git sometimes, did you know that?”

His eyes shone with a harsh light, mischievous. “Yes, I can be a bit of an arse. But you like me like that, so what’s your point?”

“You— you bastard! I absolutely don’t—”

Henry began laughing so hard he was seized by a coughing fit. His coughing only increased, making him bend over and almost fold himself in two. Lizzie clutched his arm to shake him, forgetting that only a minute ago she was glaring at him.

“Henry! Henry, what is it?”

“What?” He managed to say between coughs.

“You’re coughing.” A rather matter-of-fact statement, but it was not the first time she had seen him suffer a fit lately. “Henry, have you been smoking again?”

He cleared his throat as his coughing bout subdued. “No, Lizzie. I told you I’ve quit.” In a hushed and quicker voice, though, he added. “I only have one or two fags on occasion.”

“WHAT?”

“Jesus Christ, Lizzie! It’s nothing. It’s probably hayfever.”

“I’m not joking, Henry! You’ve got to see your GP. Did you know that young people can have lung cancer too?” The thought terrified her. Her father had died from a condition in the liver after a lifetime of bad drinking habits. Henry wasn’t anywhere near as stout as her father had been. Lizzie doubted his health could be as enduring.

Henry still looked perplexed at her, like he didn’t understand her concern. She squeezed his arm harder. “Promise me you’ll see your GP.”

He looked at a point over her shoulder. “What’s that?”

She turned around to see a white-spotted fawn grazing some feet away. Lizzie immediately landed her bike on the grass and tried to approach the calf as silently and as carefully as her feet took her. She beckoned Henry forward, but he lingered behind. “Lizzie, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s a miracle baby, Henry! They’re usually not born till late spring. We have to see it.” Henry let out a resigned sigh but followed her anyways, he too taking careful steps to approach the calf. Lizzie couldn’t believe she was about to pet a fawn. Her heart ringed loudly in her ears, she could taste excitement at the tip of her tongue. It was then that she saw it, the mother. This was no fallow deer. It was a large red hind, menacing and monstrous, vapour coming out of its nostrils. It scraped the hooves on the ground, ready to charge.

Lizzie took Henry’s hand, her voice hollow. “We have to go back. Now.”

“What about the bikes?”

The hind let out a long guttural growl. “Forget them! Just run! Run, you fool!”

She yanked him along and sprinted as fast as she could. She didn’t look back to see if the mother was following, but she could hear it galloping behind them. At her side Henry muttered a litany of fucks as they ran. They raced for a few meters before they made a turn at a thick patch of trees and hid behind a trunk, shoulder to shoulder. They were both breathless and disarranged, panting. Lizzie’s hair was all over her face; Henry’s glasses were slipping off the bridge of his nose. Her hand, the one holding his fingers, was sticky with sweat. He let go of that hand. “Shit, Lizzie! We’re never doing this again! The things I do for you, I swear—”

“Shhh! It could hear us.”

Lizzie had never seen Henry so distraught. He tried to put his hair strands in order with a nervous hand, but it clearly wasn’t working. He gave up with a low grunt. “This shit is serious, Lizzie! We could have died, we could have been trampled, gored to death—”

“Shhh!” She repeated, more forcefully this time. To begin with, the hind didn’t even have antlers. But yes, there could be a stag nearby waiting to attack.

Lizzie scooted a bit to the side and stuck her prying head out to look for the red hind. Just like magic, it was nowhere near sight. She turned back to Henry and met his expecting gaze. “It’s gone.” The sentence hung in the air, both of them not quite believing it. They stood frozen for a couple of seconds, staring at each other, chests heaving. They both broke into a grin then. Relief flooded over them and they shared a loud laugh like giddy idiots. She meant to move and hug him — she was half-way into his arms when he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers in a quick kiss. She fell a step back and disentangled from his embrace.

“That was unexpected!”

Henry yanked the glasses off his face. “Would you please shut up every time I try to kiss you?”

What? She meant to ask him, but he drew her to him again and covered her mouth with his. Surprisingly enough, she found herself pressing closer to him. He seized her by the waist, straightening her in his arms, and she circled her own around his shoulders. He smelled like the sharp scent of the woods mixed with his French cologne. The stubble on his jaw tickled her, not unpleasantly, and she made a low hum on the back of her throat when he sucked on her bottom lip. His glasses slid off his hand and hit the ground behind her with a soft thud as he cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss. As much as Lizzie didn’t want to admit it, Henry knew what he was doing. He slid his tongue inside her mouth for a proper snog, and she lost track of time. She could only think of the weight of his hand on the small of her back, the movements of his mouth on hers. He ended the kiss by gently cradling her head, placing a peck on her lips.

They parted, but a light buzz ringed inside her head as she tried to process what had just happened. Henry, on the contrary, looked perfectly untroubled with a smirk on his face. He bent down to pick up his glasses and calmly wiped them on his shirt, unfazed. “I should’ve done it sooner.” Try as she might, Lizzie couldn’t find the words to contradict him.

A cold swirling wind swept on them. The light fell across the land in purple and orange hues. Night was fast approaching.

“Come, Lizzie.” He took her by the hand. “Let’s go home.”

#henry x lizzie #henry vii x elizabeth of york #modern au #flatmates au #this has been a ride #thank you for sticking with me

[sommer-rain]

Yet a very summerlike day with warm sunny weather and good lovely cool wind, wouldn’t surprise me if it’s around +15C now.

Finally got to borrow from the library “Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll And Mr.Hyde” in swedish translation..tho i’m wondering if this one might be an easier read version of it. What i’ve understood it’s a longer story/book and not a short one, right? Think i’m gonna try borrow from the city’s library instead. Damn, i really wanna read this book but not a fucking shortened version!

Apparently they’ve got Soft ice-cream at Smith’s now! I was dissapointed before that they didn’t seem to sell any ice cream this year there as they’ve had an ice-cream stall right outside and many came to buy there since it was so close to get and good flavor choices too. I miss the Lime-Mascarpone ice cream ball so much! And that cherry-white chocolate one too. =/  -But softies are always good! They only have yet vanilla softy but they’ll get chocolate softy too..whenever that happens.   The cashier said that they haven’t got an ice cream stall yet outside because they haven’t been able to find any who either wanted to sell ice cream or have them an ice cream stall, so yet they only have an soft ice-cream machine.  -At least good to know that they have tried to get one there and it’s not their fault it’s not one yet there.

I did find another book i got interested of while trying to find the one i was looking for. Didn’t think i would find some of the kind of books i saw in the category happened to be at in the library but i noticed two books i’ve read and bought for a bunch of years back. It was a pretty good book series but could have been a bit better. Just didn’t think to find them there. Certainly when it’s purely fictional and not what i know ever based on any real mythology or history.. And not that known or popular book series either.   -Anyway, i found one that seems to be a ghost-story what i got from the back cover. Can read it until i get to the city library.

Not that i’ve thought of reading “Strange case of dr.jekyll and mr. hyde” book for a long time but i saw for just some day ago on Youtube that it’s gonna be yet another movie this year - tho this time going for depicting it literally from the original book and not another twisted own version of the story.   So even more reason for me to read the book asap! This IS really going to be directly after the book so i’m holding my thumbs up for it.

..And what do i find right when i’ve come inside my apartment, stepping out from the vestibul? A big bumblebee crawling on the floor and i almost didn’t see it, almost stepping on it.  -How the heck did it come in here?! I don’t have any doors or windows open! And i’m keen on not leave any door open more than needed when someone visits me, that i also tells to shut it instead of just leaving it open so all the damn pollen and insects come inside if they annoyingly leave to stand right in the doorway or on eirther side of it only there for a somewhat “short” conversation.  -Also looked like it’s got hit by something and i have no idea of what and when it must have happened. Odd.

#Personal

[loveratchetjacobvearluxj-blog]

Epoluge

Epoluge A car tire stopped moving as the driver opened the door. A sneaker hit the ground as he got out of Bumblebee. Samuel James Witwicky. Walked to the front of the resturant. He took out his phone from his pocket and pressed the home button. That wallpaper showed Ratchet Jr. Mikaela, Amit and Bee. (In bot form). He smiled, that was the picture he took before Veralux left to the Solona Galaxy. Just then his phone buzzed he stared at the lock screen, it said: 'where almost there' he went inside and made the reservation. All of the guys where there, including Bumblebee, Optimus, Jazz, Sideswipe, Ratchet and Ironhide. They had there hologram forms on as they walked in. "Hey guys!" Sam said, as he walked as he walked over to them. "Hey Sam." Veralux Jr. said walking over to Samuel. "Ready to go back home tommorrow?" William Lennox asked Ratchet. "OH HELL YEAH!" Veralux Jr. Said. Excited to go back to California. He's very very eager to go back to the warm, sunny, area of Cali. Not the cold, empty vast of space. A weight lifted off the boys shoulders. He finally gets to go to school with Sam in September.—the reason is because they've been fighting off giant alien robots. They can't just say—"hey Mr. Monroe, we weren't here for the first month because we where fighting giant robots, and we have a new student, and he's not from this planet. Sam can't say THAT! He had to think of a reasonable explanation—but what? He lost his train of thought as William put a hand on his shoulder. "What's up?" He asked. "Come on, our tables up." William said, they walked in, Kewanins where sitting at tables, Fongoids. Humans all kinds. Where clapping and cheering for them. Ratchet felt embarrassed as they walked to their table. They talked, laughed saw some YouTube poop videos on Ratchet's iPhone. Then they got their food and drinks. William stood up to announce something. As he raised his glass up he cleared his throat and starts: "Alright, a toast to all NEST soldiers, for defeating the Decepticons, once and for all?" Will raided his glass in the air, all the solders and Autobots cheered "TO NEST!" All the soldiers and Autobots yelled at the same time. Ratchet and the NEST soldiers where saying goodbye to Ratchet's parents. "Thank you very much for saving my and my wife's home, it means a lot to me—to us actually! I was wrong to say that I wanted to for you guys to leave. I actually like you guys here. You guys are a lot better then my own Rangers." Ratchet said giving a salute to team NEST. And all of their hard work they've done. Cora had been hiding this for a while now, even Ratchet doesn't know this. "Guys I have some news to tell you." Cora said putting a hand on Ratchet's shoulder and holding her stomach with her left hand. "Tell us." "Yeah tell us mom." "I'm pregnant again." Cora said "WHAT!" Ratchet asked in disbelief and hugged the young Markazin. "Thank Primus! A Sparkling!" Ironhide said. "Take it easy Ironhide." Optimus told the merch. "I'm so happy for you mom" her son said. Cora scooped him up and hugged him, almost crushing his ribs. "Mom.... Can't.... Breathe..."he said. "Take it easy Wonder Woman. He ain't Nefarious." Ratchet chuckled. "Come on we gotta go if you guys wanna get back." Robbert said getting into the rocket ship with the Autobots. Cora put him down. Optimus laughed. "Alright everyone ready to go?" "All set prime." Will said as they went in the rocket ship. It blasted off Cora looked at Ratchet. Ratchet looked at her. He'd never seen a woman so beautiful in his life. Cora grabbed by the shirt collar and kissed his fuzzy lips. "I love you Ratchie." "You too Cora." THE END! Ratchet Veralux Jr. Was now back in California. He drove to his house with Sam and Bee. It echoes through a vacant room where a young soul still resides He went to the driveway, he opened the door to the Chevy Camaro then he got his suitcase and duffle bag out. When the night is cold and you feel like no-one knows what it's like to be the only one buried in this hole You can make it to the sunrise. (Woah. Woah. Woah) You can make it to the sunrise. (Woah. Woah. Woah.) He opened the door, Mojo welcomed them home first by jumping on the two and kissing them, Ron and Judy then came downstairs. "There they are! My two wonderful boys!" Judy witwiky said as she kissed both Sam and Ratchet. Searching for a way to escape the madness A dire need for change as we fight for better days The hurt and the pain cut deep like a razor blade Holding in a cry for love, abandoned and afraid "Hey Judy I missed you guys too." Junior said hugging her. When the night is cold and you feel like no-one knows what it's like to be the only one buried in this hole You can make it to the sunrise (Woah. Woah. Woah) You can make it to the sunrise (Woah. Woah. Woah.) Ratchet hugged Ron too, Ron hugged ratchet back, and they couldn't wait to tell them the good news. "Where in rolling, Ratchet V. Jr to Tranquility High School with Sammy." Judy said smiling. Ratchet was also smiling, he couldn't believe he'd been In Rolled in school!—not only that. With his best friend, Samuel James Witwicky! It was a dream come true. He's never had an opportunity like this because he lived on veldin. Now he gets to. He hugged them. And cried tears of joy. "Thank you thank you thank you! You guys are the best!" He said. "Let's celebrate by eating pizza and playing Ratchet And Clank on Sam's PS4!" Ron Said. "Okay, I'll order a pizza and Sam will get the Console from his room downstairs." Judy said getting her phone and calling Pizza Hut. "I have truly the best family ever!" He said as they hugged all three of them. Mojo then looked up Ratchet crouched down and gave him a belly rub. The chihuahua responded by going on his back, they laughed, this was Shirley going to be a very good year. I won't go to my grave until a difference is made (Until a difference is made) Until a difference is made (From time to time, there arise among human beings, people, who seem to exude love, as naturally as the sun gives out heat. Ratchet Vearlux. Jr.—2016 NEST military services.