#so you know. it's that or continuous story broken up by flashbacks but i'm not sure how well that would work

[stargirllanaa]

୨⎯ "Cruel World” - Rafe Cameron

❥ Masterlist

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Noncon smut, toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, Domestic violence, Gun violence, Drinking, ex!rafe, Rafe is actually terrible, psycho ex bf Rafe

Summary: loosely, based on ‘Cruel World’ by Lana Del Rey, everything goes wrong when you spot your psycho ex bf at a New Year’s Eve party.

A/n ✎: Thank you so much for 100 followers! Ahhhh!!!! I’m so glad you guys are enjoying my work, I recommend listening to the song ofc but you don’t have too. Bold and italics are flashback. Enjoy <333

Wc: just under 3k

18+ MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

“Does anyone know where I put my eyeliner?” Your friend Nora asked you, as well as your other friend Violet.

You were all getting ready for some New Year's Eve party at Nora's boyfriend's house; everyone would be home from college for winter break, so you were excited to see all the people you went to high school with.

“No, but I know where the vodka is!” Violet chuckled,

“Come on, let's all take a shot!” Violet continued as she made her way over to you.

“Come on, y/n, are you going to pout all night? He might not even be there.” the brunette expressed as she sat beside you, bottle in hand.

She was referring to your ex, Rafe Cameron, and you knew for almost a fact that he would be there. Nora's boyfriend happened to be his best friend, Topper, and you and Rafe hadn't exactly ended on the best terms. The two of you had been broken up for about a month and a half; for the first two weeks, he would not stop texting and calling you, profusely apologizing, saying things like, ‘I'll go to therapy.’ ‘give me another chance.’ ‘I'll be better.’

It got so annoying that you had to block him; obviously, that wouldn't stop him. The thing was, Rafe was fucking crazy; he would always find a way to get to you, and if he didn't, he simply didn't want to.

“He's going to be there.” You said with a sign, “I'm just going to get fucked up, ignore him, and hopefully get some dick tonight.”

“That's the spirit!” Violet said as you tilted your head back, and she poured the vodka down your throat.

“Are you kidding me?” Your boyfriend asked you in a harsh tone as he stalked toward you.

“What?” you respond as you tried to take a wobbly few steps back.

His eyes narrowed at you, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, aside from the clown makeup,” Rafe said, referring to your red lipstick.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don't like that dress?” Rafe interrogated as he roughly grabbed your waist.

“How many fucking times, y/n?” the blonde shook your body roughly. “For you to get it through your thick fucking skull?”

You were silent, frozen almost; whenever Rafe got violent, you didn't know how to react. You didn't fight; you didn't try to run; you stood wide-eyed in shock because if you did respond the wrong way, you knew it would make things 10x worse than they already were.

“Huh?” He asked you, shaking your body roughly again, waiting for you to respond.

“I- I don't know.” You mumbled weakly.

“You don't know,” he mocked with a dry humorless laugh.

“Go and change. Red looks trashy on you.” He stated before letting go of you with a harsh push into the wall.

All your friends knew that Rafe was bad, but they certainly didn't know how bad he was. You were so good at hiding it, concealer, color corrector, foundation, you name it; if it could cover a bruise, you had it. Every story you told them about your fights with Rafe were very watered down, and because of that, no one knew how truly scared you were to run into Rafe at this party. Not in an ‘Oh, no, my ex!’ way more in a ‘he might kill me way.’ But with every shot you took, you felt your fear start to fade slowly, and when you arrived at the party five shots in, in your little red party dress, you felt way more confident than you should have.

Your arm linked with Violet’s as your friend Nora lost the two of you to find her boyfriend. You and Violet stumbled through the house, passing through groups of people, trying your best to find the drink table.

“By the way, I love your dress,” Violet approved, looking you up and down. “Red is your color.”

“Thank you!” you smiled, taking the compliment to heart; she didn't know just how much that meant to you; you hadn't worn red since Rafe had told you it was ‘trashy’ on you.

“Fuck, is the Britney Smith?” Violet giggled, pointing at the short blonde girl.

“Isnt she pregnant?” you wondered as your eyes fell on the drink table.

“Oh my god, look who's right next to the drinks,” Violet says before covering her mouth with her hand.

“Is that Alex?” you replied, squinting your eyes to get a better look.

Violet nodded in response, eyes wide with excitement.

“Go talk to him!” you smiled at her. “I'll sit right over there,” you said, pointing at the elegant velvet couch.

As you sat on the couch, you couldn't stop thinking about Rafe. Your anxiety slowly started to rise, and you regretted every choice you made up to this point. First of all, you and Rafe had ended on horrible terms; second of all, you came to a party that you knew he would most likely be at, and now you are all alone and a little more drunk than you'd like to be.

You couldn't stop thinking back to that day, your breaking point, the last fight you had with Rafe before you ended things for good.

“Why are you following John B on Instagram?” Your boyfriend asked you as he looked up from his phone.

The question confused you a bit; you honestly didn't even know you were following him in the first place.

“I don't know?” you replied with a shrug. “Probably was an accident; maybe Sarah tagged him in something or-”

“Was it an accident when you smiled at him the other day at the wreck?” he cut you off.

Was he serious right now? John B had waved at you, and you simply smiled in return. You were just being nice; it was nothing more than that.

“Rafe, I-” You were going into very dangerous territory, and you knew that, even though Rafe was physically attractive, he was very insecure, which showed a lot in your relationship.

“If it's another bullshit excuse, I don't want to hear it,” he scolded as he stalked towards you.

He wasn't even giving you the chance to defend yourself, and frankly, it was pissing you off even more than his stupid questions.

“Rafe, I don't even know what you're talking about; I literally-” you plead with your boyfriend, taking a step back for every step he took forward.

“Of course you ‘Dont know,’ you never do.” Rafe hissed at you, moving closer and closer.

“That's what you do; you act all fucking innocent and then sneak around behind my back.” the blonde accused.

“Do you think I'm stupid?” He sneered, backing you against the wall.

That was the final straw; now he was accusing you of cheating from a simple smile and an Instagram follow. I mean, how delusional could he be?

“Are you fucking crazy?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed.

You could tell he was shocked at your response by the way his eyebrows arched upwards slightly, but you could also tell you pissed him off by the way his jaw ticked.

“What did you say to me?” He asked; he heard you loud and clear the first time; he just wanted to see if you had the guts to repeat it.

“Are you fucking crazy? I follow him on Instagram. So what? I can unfollow him if it's a problem.” you argued, shocked that this was even an issue.

Rafe's hand shot forward without warning, delivering a sharp slap to your face. Time momentarily slowed as the impact echoed through the room. As the sting of the slap registered, a deep sadness clouded your features. You hated to say it, but you were used to rafe hurting you.

“Who do you think you're talking to?” Rafe asked you. Blue eyes are darker than their everyday shade.

“Huh?” He scoffed, laughing slightly.

“Calling me crazy…talking to me like I'm the one in the wrong?” your boyfriend shouted as he snatched a big chuck of your hair, gripping it tight enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Rafe, I-” you tried to defend yourself as tears clouded your vision.

“No, I'm talking now.” His voice boomed as he screamed in your ear.

Rafe slammed your head against the wall behind you, using your hair as leverage; at this point, your ears were ringing, your head was banging, and you couldn't speak from the pain alone. And Rafe just kept going on and on about how important trust is in a relationship, but how could you even listen when he was gripping your hair so tight? But obviously, Rafe didn't see this as punishment enough because he dragged you by the hair to his closet, and even as he rustled through his sock drawer, clearly looking for something, he didn't once let go of your hair.

“Rafe! Stop-” You were cut off by the feeling of ice gold metal pressed against your temple; you were completely frozen, not knowing what to do; there was no way your boyfriend was pressing a gun against your head over an Instagram follow.

“If you even look at john b again, your fucking dead.” Rafe threatened coldly.

Your heart was racing; Rafe was impulsive knowing him; you could breathe the wrong way, and he would pull the trigger. That didn't stop your breath from fasting and your tears from falling, though.

“You hear me?” he asked, pulling your hair back just enough to make eye contact.

You didn't say anything; you had been sobbing ever since you felt the metal against your head in the first place.

“Do you hear me?” He shook you, demanding an answer, “I will fucking kill you.”

“Yes!” you cried out, hoping and praying for him to put the gun down and let go of you.

And when you left his house that night, you had never returned. Rafe did have his good moments, but was he worth your life? You broke up with him over text the following day, and you hadn't seen him since.

Since today, as soon as you looked up from your lap, lost in thought, you made eye contact with Rafe. You felt sick when you saw him; you knew he would be here, but you weren't expecting to see him this soon.

You stood up, making your way through the separate groups of people; you needed to find somewhere you could be by yourself because right now, you felt like you might have a panic attack.

“Excuse me,” you repeated over and over as you drunkenly stumbled to the stairs. No one was upstairs, other than maybe a few people hooking up, but other than that, it was pretty empty. You looked for a room, apologizing when you opened the door to see Nora and Topper making out. You stumbled through the halls until you found an empty room, sighing in relief as you closed the door behind you.

Your relief was short-lived because you didn't realize that Rafe was following behind you the entire time, and when he entered the room, you instantly regretted isolating yourself from the rest of the party and your friends.

“No.” you panicked, anxiety rising deep within your stomach.

He was intentionally standing in front of the door. There was no way out.

“Hey, Listen, y/n-,” Rafe said calmly, trying to calm you down.

“No! Get away from me!” you interrupted words slurring, not wanting to hear a thing from him.

You had no desire to speak to Rafe, not after all he had put you through in your relationship, not after you had been in therapy for the past month to heal the pain he had caused you. He wasn't just a regular ex, Rafe was fucking crazy, and you both knew it; you knew he was waiting to see you in person again, probably planning it, planning out exactly how he was going to get you back and what he was going to do if you declined his offer.

“Can you just listen to me!?” he snapped at you, slightly losing his calm demeanor. “I just want to talk-” He said through his teeth, walking over to you and away from the door.

“Well, I don't want to talk!” you barely even knew what you were saying; your head was spinning, and you regretted every shot you had taken earlier.

“So that's how it's gonna be, huh?” Rafe mumbled to himself more than you, fist clenching as he spoke.

As he got closer and closer, the room seemed easier and easier to escape; you knew you couldn't scream for help because of the loud music banging throughout the house; no one would hear you, and you knew you couldn't put up the best fight because you were drunk and Rafe’s also way stronger than you, he had proved this time and time again.

So you took the opportunity to run for the door while you still could. But two steps in, Rafe had already caught you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his stiff chest.

“I didn't want to make this complicated.” he hissed into your ear. “But come on, y/n, it's almost like you want me to hurt you.”

You thrashed your body, wiggling side to side, trying to escape his grip.

“You’re fucking crazy!” You shouted as you continued to attempt to free yourself.

“Yes! I'm crazy,” Your ex admitted as his grip around you tightened, and his nostrils flared. “I'm crazy for you.” he dug his nails into your side.

“Get off of me!” you cried out, voice raw with emotion.

“You come to my best friend's party wearing the fucking dress I hate! Knowing I'm going to be here!” he criticized, pushing your body towards the bed. “It's almost like you want me to take it off.”

“Rafe, stop, I-” you were cut off by Rafe throwing you on the bed and wrapping his hands around your throat as he hovered over you.

“Shut the fuck up!” He sneered, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“You fucking left me!” His grip got tighter the more he spoke. “Not even a call, but a fucking text.” he scolded. “Do I really mean that little to you?”

You didn't end things the way you did because you didn't care about Rafe; you cared about Rafe so much, more than you ever wanted to, and that hurt; throughout everything he's done to you, all the pain he's caused you, you still cared. You broke up with Rafe over text because you were terrified; he had threatened to kill you over an Instagram follow; you couldn't imagine what he would have done if you dared to break up with him in person.

But you couldn't say any of that because he was choking you so hard that you couldn't breathe, let alone speak; all you could do was hit his hands repeatedly, hoping he would let go.

“You didn't care about my feelings. Why should I care about yours?” He asked you, looking deeply into your bloodshot, teary eyes with his blue angry ones.

Your mind was racing; Rafe was actually going to kill you. You saw this day coming many times throughout your relationship, but you didn't expect it to happen when you guys were finished. You had shared your body, your mind, everything with him, and you had been happy it was over; you finally were starting to feel like yourself again. But now he was going to take that all away from you.

Rafe finally let go when he started to see your eyes roll back as you started to lose consciousness.

You gasped for air in between coughs as you held your throat, desperate to soothe it from the pain he caused with his harsh grip. You had accepted death. You knew exactly who you were dealing with, and the thought of him killing you over a breakup wasn't too far-fetched.

“You have a lot of making-up to do after the stunt you pulled last month,” Rafe sighed as if he was inconvenienced by what he was doing to you.

The stunt you pulled? Your break up was serious, and for a good reason; he was lucky you hadn't called the police; if anyone had pulled a ‘stunt,’ it was him. He had pulled a series of stunts throughout your whole relationship. He was pulling one now.

Before you knew it, Rafe was tugging at your dress, attempting to pull it off you. If there was one thing you weren't doing, it was going down without a fight. You tried your best to kick him and scratch him, everything, but you were drunk, had just been choked, and Rafe was much stronger than you, so he pinned your wrist above your head with one hand and pulled the bottom of your dress up with the other.

“Remember this, y/n,” He said as he positioned himself up against your cunt. “Remember this feeling the next time you think about trying to leave.” He taunted before pushing into you roughly.

As he thrusted into you repeatedly at a rough and harsh pace, you sobbed. You thought Rafe was behind you; you told yourself you would never let a man hurt you the way he did again. You were so happy when he was gone.

“Fuck, take this off,” Rafe moaned as he pulled your dress over your head.

With every hash thrust, your cries got louder. Rafe didn't care about your pleasure or even his; he wanted to hurt you; he wanted to see your tear-stained face. This was your punishment, and he was succeeding. The only thing you felt between your legs was severe pain.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” you heard everyone downstairs scream in unison.

“Happy New Year,” Rafe smirked as he pulled you in for a rough, sloppy kiss.

Rafe was fucking crazy.

#dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #outer banks #dark!rafe x reader #dark!fic

[fromforeigntofamiliarity]

Relays Of Information | Shelby!Daughter

Summary: Tommy founds out he has a daughter he never knew about. Or The long lost Shelby daughter raised as a widow comes face to face with her father.

Request: Nah

Warning: description of violence

Walking into the club in downtown London, Tomas Shelby let his eyes scan the crowded establishment in search for the young woman he had seen earlier that day.

Flashback:

"Mr. Shelby," Devlin called as her entered the office. "Your next meeting is here." He informed. 

"Alright, send 'em in Devlin." Tommy replied putting away the paperwork her was been working on in her time between meetings. 

Entering the office once again, this time with a woman following close behind. "Ms. Kitty Jurossi." He introduced causing Tommy to halt in his movement for a moment before looking up at the woman.

"Thank you Devlin." Tommy says continuing to put the papers away. 

Once the two were alone they sat in silence for a few moment, through it felt equally as eternal for them both. 

"Hello Tommy." Kitty greeted the man nervously. "Or do you prefer Mr. Shelby now?" She asked with a slight chuckle. 

"Tommy is fine, Kitty." He answered with a close lipped smile. "Please have a seat, feel free to have some tea." He offered gesturing to the seat at the end of the table with a fresh pot of tea sat in front of it. 

"Thank you." She replied shuffling over and taking a seat in the wooden chair. "It's been a long time, how have you been?" 

"I've been fine Kitty and yourself." Tommy asked squinting his eyes at the sister of his former lover, a sense of unease creeping in. 

"I've been fine as well Tommy," She replied. "It took me awhile after Greta passed on and I think I can just about put it behind me and move on. Which is why I've come here." 

Remaining silent Tommy sustained his gaze in the woman allowing her to continue with her story.

"I've wronged you Tommy a great deal, before  you left for the war Greta confided in me that she was pregnant." Kitty revealed. "She didn't have the heart to tell you knowing you may not have made it home to meet your child. She knew she was sick and that she most likely wouldn't have that chance either. She asked that when she died I take care of the child and if you returned that the child should be with their father." she continued tears began filling her eyes.

"But that didn't happen." 

"No that didn't happen, Tom." She confirmed. "It was hard after Greta passed, I had just lost my sister, I had this baby I had no idea how to raise and no one knew how long the war would last or if you'd even make it back." Tears falling down her cheeks.

"I have no idea how they knew about the babe or why but about a month after it was born some people came to me, they said they would pay me a lot of money to let them have the baby, they said they would give it a good home a good family." She explained wiping the tears from her face. "I was skint and couldn't provide for it, so I said yes and I took the money." 

"I have a child." Tommy stated. 

"After I heard that you had returned from war it was too late, the child was already gone and I felt that it would do no good for you to know about it seeing as Greta had passed on, knowing you had also lost a child might have broken you."

"But I didn't loose a child did I Kitty?" Tommy asked shaking his head. "You sold 'em."

"I know I've done an awful think Tommy, its been eating me alive all these years." Kitty said now sobbing quietly in her seat. "Which is why I've come here today, to confess, I only hope that one day you... and Greta, may she rest in peace, can find it in your heart to forgive me." 

"where is he now?"

"I don't know Tom, But I heard of you, I know you have money, connections things that would make it a hell of a lot easier for you to find them." She answered. "I know most men have no interest with raising a child and I'm not asking you to, I have myself together now, a job and house and they deserve to know about their family about Greta. I can raise 'em take care of 'em now, I just need your help to find the child Tommy, please."

For a while Tommy sat simply staring at the crying woman in his office, a woman who he would have once been his sister-in-law but had sold his child, a living breathing legacy of her sister, her own blood.

"Alright Kitty." Tommy finally spoke breaking the silence. "I'll look for the my child and I will find 'em" 

"Thank yo-,"

"And you'll not come anywhere near him." Tommy interrupts. "This will be you first and final warning Kitty, I'll let you walk now, but if you ever come near my family again. I will kill you." 

Hanging her head Kitty Jurossi gave a slight nod before standing from her seat heading to the door. "Tommy," Kitty called as she opened the door turning to face him once again. "You should know, the baby...it was a girl. You have a daughter." 

It took longer to find her than Tommy would like to admit, but there was obviously no paper trail for the deal Kitty Jurossi had made. Tommy sent men out to search hospitals on any record of Greta giving birth, one came back the all records of the birth and the child itself was taken by a man claiming he was from a home for orphaned girl in London, though he spoke with a Russian accent. 

More digging and with the help of his friends (Alfie) in Camden, Tommy found the was one girls home that received many shipments to and from Russia.

‘The Red Room Home For Orphaned Girls.’

Four days Tommy waited outside the home, watching, waiting but for what he didn't know. Yet on the forth day all his waiting paid off as he spots a young woman walking down the street, his breath caught in his throat as he stared at an almost exact replica of Greta Jurossi. She shared nearly every feature with her late mother save a few her and there, but the one thing that wiped away any doubt was her eyes, even from across the street Tommy could see the deep blue color of them. His eyes.

With confident strides she walks up the stairs of the building before entering the door. 

"Where have you been for four days?" Tommy muttered to himself never taking his eyes off of the building as he reaches into his breast pocket pulling out a cigarette. What also caught his attention even more was that an hour later she was once again walking through the door and heading off down the street. "What the hell kind of girls home is this?" 

With a quick honk of his horn Tommy caught the attention of the blinder down the street, nodding in the direction of the girl, a second later the man began following the unknown Shelby down the street. 

[<_>}

Irina sat in the club, small smile on her face, enjoying a glass of champagne as she watched the people around her dance, do drug, have sex and more. 

She casually scanned the crowd waiting for her eyes to lock on the man she had followed here. Paul Lipton, he was in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with a pretty blonde women that most definitely not his wife. She knew that for a fact because that was the exact reason she was here, turned out Mrs. Lipton wasn't the type of woman to just set back and let her husband cheat on her.

Downing the rest of her drink Irina stood from her seat heading straight for the dance floor, Spinning and twirling as she attempted to blend into the crowd, making her way toward the unfaithful man she reached for the knife that was strapped to her upper thigh. Getting closer and closer to Paul she raised her arms, doing once final spin as she passed the man quickly dragging the knife across his throat. 

It took Paul a few second to realize what was happening to him, she watched as the smiles slowly slipped from his face before his hands shot up to his throat in an attempt to stop his blood from spilling out of his wound. It wasn't until he fell to his knees that his partner noticed that something was terribly wrong. Seeing the red spill from his neck and down the front of his suit drew a scream from the blonde that pierced the ears of nearly everyone in the club. 

In an instant the panic started as everyone began to scramble in all directions to what they hope would be safely. 

Getting the feeling she was being watched Irina once again scanned the, now panicking, crowd. She had to admit she didn't expect to lock eyes with a man standing on the other side of the club dressed on a long black trench coat, blue eyes nearly completely covered my the peaky cap sat on his head.

After a few seconds of eye contact she took a step back disappearing into the crowd. 

[<_>]

Pulling up to the large house 'Arrow' as it was called, Irina took note of the men standing causally outside. Guards, though not very good ones she would say. 

 "Ne nuzhno derzhat' mashinu v rabochem sostoyanii, ya chuvstvuyu, chto eto zaymet nekotoroye vremya." She said to the driver as he opened the door for her to exit the vehicle.['No need to keep the car running, I have a feeling this will take awhile.']

As she approached the door one of the men broke from the group stepping in between her and the door. 

"Can I help you ma'am?" He asked looking down at her.

"No, I don't think you can." She replied rolling her eyes as he blows smoke in her face. "I have a meeting with a Mr. Shelby." She informed trying her best not to punch the man in the throat. 

Looking over to one of the other men a bit away her nods his head in the direction of the door before turning back to her as the other walks inside. The man in front of her stares at her for awhile scanning her body ever once and a while. 

"You know if your going to see Mr. Shelby, I'm afraid I'll have to search you for weapons." He smirked at her flicking his finished cigarette away.

"Touch me and it will be the last thing you do." She smirked back at the man already prepared to take him out. Her smile only grew as the man took a step forward.

"Mr. Shelby will see you now." The man from before announced sticking his head outside the door. 

"Oh lucky me." She says sarcastically, side stepping the man in front of her, coming shoulder to shoulder with him she stops. "And extremely lucky for you." She states before walking up the steps and entering the home. 

"Right this way ma'am." An older women in the other side of the door directed her though a hall that came to a large door way. On the other side was a dining room with a large table occupied by a approximately 13 people. 

"Mr. Shelby, your guest has arrived." The woman says gesturing over to you. "Shall I take your coat?" She asked causing you to shrug it off allowing her to take it as she exits. 

"Irina," The man sat at the head of the table greeted. "Thank you for coming, please have a seat."

Walking over to the table she approaches the seat Tommy had gestured to next to him. Across from her was a blonde woman who she noticed was in a very large portrait above the fire place, she sat next to a small child, obviously her son. 

"Mr. Shelby." She greeted back taking a seat. "I have to say when I saw you at the club this isn't the exact way I pictured we'd meet again." 

"No?" 

"Well most of my clients don't usually introduce me to their family." She informed. "It's not really a family friends profession." 

"Are you a whore?" The blonde woman asked looking at you from across the table. 

"No...well, maybe." Irina smirked. "I like most people offer a unique service for a price, everyone is a whore is you think about it, just selling different parts of themselves." 

"And what service do you provide?" A ginger haired boy a bit down the table asks. 

"Finn." 

"No its alright Mr. Shelby," She assured. "Well, Finn to put it simply. I kill people." 

"Are you serious?" Finn asked looking around the table with a nervous chuckle. 

"Deadly." She smiles. "Which is why I was wondering why Mr. Shelby called me here, its no secret that the Shelby family tends to handle grudges on their own." 

"So you've heard of us?" A man sitting next to Finn asked with a smirk. 

"I prefer to know who I'm working for." She replied. "I asked around about you 'Tommy Shelby the man who could make an enemy out of god himself', So Mr. Shelby who is it that now even the all powerful Tomas Shelby can kill?" She smiles excitement shining in her eyes.

"I'm afraid you may be quite disappointed," Tommy says looking away from the young girl and over to the woman sitting next to her. "I haven't asked you here to have anyone killed."

Slowly the smile slips from her face as she turns her attention to the head of the table, leaning forward with a glare on her face.

"So you've wasted my time?" She asks staring down the blue eyed man. 

"I've called you here to offer you some...information you may find interesting." Tommy corrected. 

"If I wanted interesting information, Thomas." She started leaning forward some more. "I would have went to a fucking library." 

"Not this information love." The older brunette sitting to he left states. 

"I don't know how to say this so I'll just come out with it." Tommy started.

"Please do." 

"about sixteen years ago, before I went off to war, I was involved with a woman by the name of Greta Jurossi." He explains. "She died while I was still in France, but before that she had a child. My child." 

"Is this what coming out with it means to you?" 

"A few months ago, her sister came to me to let me know of the child." Taking a moment to clear his throat Tommy finally 'came out with it.' "That child is you." 

All eyes were now on Irina as she looked down at the table cloth in front of her. Tommy took her silence as a sign to continue speaking and began introducing the various members of the Shelby family to the newest member.  

Having gone down the table Tommy finishes looking back over to his daughter, after a few moments of silence a small chuckle was heard as her shoulder began to move more and more as her laughter became louder. 

"I'm sorry," She apologizes as she looks around to see no one else laughing. "I just find this whole story a bit ridiculous."

"You think we’re lying." The younger brunette with a short hair cut asked seemingly offended.

"Yes...No...well, weather I believe it or not doesn't really matter." Irina said waving her had dismissing the topic. "But you were right Mr. Shelby this wasn't a waste of time after all. Because I have some 'interesting' information for you as well."

reaching down in a small pocket in her skirt pulling out a bullet setting it upright on the table. On the bullet a name, crudely etched into the side. 

‘Thomas.’

"I'm sure you are familiar with a name by the name of Sabini?" She asked rhetorically. "Well it seems you have offended him in someway seeing as he contacted me sometime ago with the request that I end your life." 

"Imagine my surprise when I not only spot you in London, alone, unprotected, but then you invite me to your home." She laughed in disbelief. "So I guess the question now Mr. Shelby is, Mr. Sabini paid a lot of money to have you killed, How much are you willing to pay to stay alive?"   

Part 2(?)

#peaky blinder x oc #tommy shelby!daughter #shelby!oc #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #black widow #black widow!reader #peaky blinders x marvel #Tommy Shelby #crossover #peaky blinders imagine #marvel imagine #black widow imagine

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Will I ever see you again?

Captain John Price x Fem Reader.

You met the captain in a fancy bar in town, you had a terrible date and Price took good care of your broken heart, now you wonder if you will have the chance to see him again.

Remember to give me a ♥️ if you like the story.

Warning: nothing important, just spelling and grammatical errors.

You were sitting close to the bar, with puffy eyes, your lips pumped more than usual, you cried a lot, you were wearing a beautiful red dress, your hair in soft curls and there was a martini In front of you, you wondered why you asked for that, you needed something stronger to drown your sadness.

A man took a seat beside you, you tried to look normal but your face betrayed you.

- Hey Darling, Are you alright?

You looked in his direction and you were amazed, was very handsome, his beard already had some grey hair, but his eyes, blue as the ocean were beautiful, a very muscular body, he was older than you for sure, but that didn't matter, he was so attractive, you smiled at him and nodded.

- I'm fine, sorry, just a bad date.

- Oh sorry about that, if it helps, I bet that guy is an idiot for leaving a beautiful lady like you crying in a bar.

You didn't know if it was the drink giving you bravery or was your broken heart trying to find a way to heal.

- don't be, if it hadn't been a mess I wouldn't be here talking with a handsome man like you.

He chuckled and nodded, you left your sad mood behind, not every day you find a man like him, you batted your eyes coquettishly.

- So, What's your name stranger?

- I'm John, nice to meet you, what about you? What's the name of the beautiful lady I have in front of me?

He kissed your hand and you blushed.

- I'm (y/n).

You and John talked for hours, he invited more drinks then both decided to take a walk, you discovered that you and him have a lot in common, he told you a bit about his work and you told him about yours, then, still with the bravery to flower of skin, you kissed him, he instantly returned the kiss, was good, no one ever kissed you in that way, eagerly, hungry, desperate, but at the same time, soft, sweet and full of desire and love, after that kiss you definitely were sure all your life you had been kissing toads.

The sexual tension increased, you could feel the urgency to be with him, skin to skin. John was more than ready to continue but as the gentleman he was, he asked you for your permission.

- You're so pretty, call me old school, but I won't do anything, until I have your permission.

- I want this John, I want you.

He kissed you one more time and then he took you to his apartment, which was elegant, a mix between industrial and minimalist decorations, the smell of cigar and oak had you on pure ecstasy, John and you didn't waste time, clothes were scattered around the apartment, hands marks in every mirror, glass, furniture, moans were the melody filling the place, sweat, caresses and kisses, was a magical night, unfortunately all the good things have an end.

The next morning you woke up with a thousand calls of your friends and the guy who dated you, then you found yourself alone In the bed, you took all your clothes and stuff and ran. You didn't read the note John left you «Morning Beautiful, I went to buy something for breakfast, brb».

When John went back, you weren't there anymore, he was sad, but just like you, he thought it was just one night's love.

For months you tried to continue with your life, but the flashbacks of Price invaded you, you weren't dating no one anymore, no one was like John. You visited the bar where you met him a couple times waiting to find him, but it was a waste of time, he wasn't there. You didn't remember the way to his house, you were desperate, Where was he? Was he even real?.

You were walking around, you lived in a small town but with every step you gave the town looked more and more bigger, it was starting to rain but you didn't care, a taxi passed by your side but you didn't even try to look at it, until you heard the car stopped and a voice calling your name caught your attention.

- Y/N!?

You turned your head and there he was, those blue eyes, brown hair, beard with some gray hair, tall and muscular.

- John!

You jumped into his arms, you kissed him, you had him once again.

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #x yn #141 x reader #x reader #captain john price #captain price #john price #price x reader #call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare #fanfiction #reader insert #Spotify

[gffa]

I haven't had much time to read fic lately, because I've been basically consumed by two fics that I need everyone to read with me: ✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, ahsoka & mace & jedi & clones & cast, 312.5k     In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he’s broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn’t know. I'm now about halfway through this fic and it continues to be just everything I want out of its concept--it's such a great Ahsoka fic as she grows up in the war and as a Jedi, as well as an amazing look at the Jedi in the middle of the Clone Wars, as all these familiar Jedi come around to teach her. It's such a fantastic parallel to the way Ahsoka worked with Luminara or Jocasta or Aayla or Sinube in the canon, but without feeling like a repeat, like it's all new characters for her to interact with and murder mysteries to get involved with or missions to sea worlds to get involved with and clones to grow closer to, etc. All wrapped up in the kind of writing that just pulls me in so fast that I don't realize I've been reading for half an hour before I finally look up and realize it's time to go to bed, because it's just so easy to slip into this story, it's so solidly built that I get satisfaction out of every chapter. There's such affection for the world and the characters appearing here and the themes, you can tell the author genuinely loves the world they're writing about and it spills over onto me every time I read and it makes my heart warm.

✦ Azula's Search by crowleyshouseplant, azula & zuko & ty lee & mai & ursa & cast, 190k After her defeat at the hands of Katara, Azula has lost her throne, her father, and her firebending. Held prisoner in her once lavish quarters, she is desperate to escape, and makes a proposition to Firelord Zuko that he cannot refuse. I'm halfway through Book One of this fic and already I'm in love, it's a slow burn Azula redemption fic that isn't shying away from the long road she has to walk or how complicated and biting of a character she is, but still showing the sympathetic way she got there. The rotating points of view have been fantastic for getting inside every character's head, like this is very much an Azula fic, but all the characters are getting their moments and the writing is just cutting its way straight to my fannish heart, that this girl can be so terrible and yet I ache so much for her. Gorgeously done so far and at two novels' length, I've been enjoying getting lost in the world being built here--every flashback to bb!Azula as a child has been punching me right in the feelings place, the line walked between what a cruel child she was and how she was just as abused as Zuko was, if in a different way. Such a good post-canon and Azula-centric fic.

#lumi.txt #star wars #avatar the last airbender #jedi order #ahsoka tano #azula #fic recs

[sunfleursgarden]

us against the world - lee juyeon

inspired by taylor swift’s champagne problems.

pairings: ex! juyeon x fem! reader

genre: angst! fluff (if you squint)

synopsis: After running away from his proposal, all Juyeon could ever think about was where it all went wrong. Showing up to your house with a heavy heart is something you weren’t ready for, but Juyeon is certain that he wants you in his life, you were simply hesitant.

warnings: angst! mentions of alcohol and blood, slight fluff (if you squint), few curse words are mentioned, somewhat forbidden love, juyeon calls you baby twice

word count: 2.7k words

note: OH MY GOD! this is my first ever publish on tumblr. i’ve been pondering a lot on whether to give this story a happy or sad ending, but hey, we’ll see... and by the way!! this is inspired by taylor swift’s champagne problems!! have fun reading !! (proofread once)

“Will you marry me?”

Splashing that tightly corked bottle of champagne, the high-spirited crowd gleamed in triumph, smiles plastered on their faces as they cheered the two of you on. His not-so-receptive relatives anticipated every minute whilst you were hesitant. You were unfathomable.

“I love you, Y/n. I’d like to spend the rest of my life loving and taking care of you.”

“Juyeon... What are you doing?” You mumbled. He was still down on one knee as he held a small velvet jewelry box. Juyeon gave you a sweet smile—a smile you know you didn't deserve.

“I'm sorry.” those were the last words you said. Juyeon’s eyebrows furrowed, confused about why you suddenly acted that way. You felt everyone’s gaze, your chest felt heavy. Staring at Juyeon, you gave him an apologetic look. He still couldn't process what was going on.

You had this forethought to run. The moment you ran, no one dared to move an inch. That moment screamed in silence. Running away from the person who desired to spend their life with you, you couldn’t prompt yourself to walk down that aisle carrying weight on your shoulders instead of flowers in your hands.

Guilt filled up your petrified heart. Absurd flashbacks start surrounding you, a champagne bottle in one hand, and a broken heart in the other. You’ve never been cognizant of how things developed into this. Perhaps you perceived that instances would change the second Juyeon’s once flexible plans became too vague and secretive for you to comprehend. You were always aware that you were preparing to get down on one knee, your friends even spoiled the surprise just for you, but you simply weren’t eager and ready for it. You and Juyeon were too different. The moment you dropped Juyeon's trembling hand as you two danced the night away, you knew you never deserved any of this.

As you ran whilst having blurry eyesight due to tears streaming down your face, it caused you to fall down the stairs and leave you bleeding on the floor. You could barely recall being put inside an ambulance and merely regained consciousness after hours of being inside the hospital. 

Juyeon was beside you the entire time. Yet you couldn’t stand that, knowing he's the reason why you broke down in the first place.

After you got discharged from the hospital, you never spoke to Juyeon again. You started to disregard his phone calls, block his texts, and ignore the constant knock on your door because you know damn well that it’s Juyeon.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve the life you're willing to offer.

But he’d rather be hurt by you over and over again than not having you at all.

Six months had gone by.

If there’s one thing that you’ve learned during your healing, it was that your feelings were like waves. At a certain point, you realize that you’ve fully moved on and the waves have subsided, albeit the next thing you know the waves become rogue, and you’re sobbing with your head in your hands, missing what no longer was.

It’s raining. The continuous pour of water droplets reminded you of your uncontrollable tears during the last six months. You had this thought creating space inside your brain for it to wander around, it kept on asking how he was. And as if the Gods have heard your mind’s calling, a knock was heard from the door.

Looking through the peek hole, it’s as if your heart stopped beating once you saw the person on the other side.

Lee Juyeon.

You swore that if this was a dream, you’d never sleep again if it meant reminiscing or recreating distant memories. Trying to pinch yourself, you cursed over and over again, knowing for a fact that this is certainly not one of those reveries.

It took everything in you to get your trembling hand towards the doorknob and open it to reveal a drenched and intoxicated Juyeon. He reeked of alcohol—which you could already tell considering him holding a bottle in his right hand. You hated the smell, you hated that his wet figure casually made the floor of your patio slippery, but most importantly—you hated having him here.

“Why are you here, Juyeon?” You asked, surprising yourself that you did not stutter. Juyeon’s eyes met yours and stayed there, he didn't even dare to move an inch.

‘No. Not those eyes. Don’t give me those eyes.’ you thought.

“Can we please talk?” You let out a sigh. If you had a dollar every time you heard those four words during the last six months, you could probably buy yourself a car.

“Stop it. Stop hurting yourself.”

“I’m not,” He responded, but his state right now tells you otherwise.

He’s been visiting you almost every week in spite of you ignoring him. He’s been texting you nonstop. He’s been showing up just when you thought that you've finally gotten over him.

It’s hard to let go of the person you love, but it’s even harder to hold onto something that can no longer render love. The only constant thing in the world is change, it’s inevitable. Who knew that along with the seasons, your feelings would change too?

Six months ago, you were still happy with Juyeon. Six months ago, you were still in this fairytale-like romance that never failed to sweep you off your feet. You never knew that things would indeed change for the worse.

That one night, that one forethought. It all turned into something bigger than you could possibly visualize. As he got down on one knee, thoughts and notions began to consume your fragile mind, drowning you in a sea of overthinking.

His parents never liked you. You would often feel his mother’s cold gaze towards you during gatherings, and his father can’t even look you in the eye. No matter how many times he tried to persuade them, you know for a fact that they despise you.

They weren’t even there when he proposed.

Who knew that it all took you a small velvet jewelry box to conclude that Juyeon was exceedingly out of your league?

You could tell that his parents were glad—no, relieved that you ended things with Juyeon. And you know for a fact that during the last six months, they’ve been setting their son up with hyper-privileged women with rich-ass companies. They were nothing compared to you and the life you have. This made your stance even stronger because ending it all was probably for the best.

“Stop making it harder than it already is, Juyeon.”

“Just talk to me. Please. Just this once.” Those disconcerting brown eyes staring into yours.

Finally giving in, you let him inside your house. Aware that his clothes were still dripping, you rushed to your closet and grabbed the sweater that he gave you, the sweatpants that he left, and a towel.

Mentally cursing at yourself for still keeping his things, you handed it all to him and pointed towards the bathroom without saying a word.

“Thank you,” He muttered.

He placed his bottle of alcohol down your coffee table and directed himself inside the bathroom. You simply watched his statuesque figure as he closed the door. You let out an exasperated sigh, wondering what may happen.

As he got out, you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him. He looked good, but his aura screamed in agony and despair. You could tell how much he’s been through. He sat beside you, but he wasn’t too close. You cleared your throat and moved a bit further from him.

“Can we talk now?” He asked. His voice sounded desperate, the way he said it sounded more like a plea rather than a question.

“Go on. We can talk until the rain stops,” You responded, simply staring out the window as rain came pouring down.

"Where did it all go wrong?" You turned your head to face him.

“Nothing went wrong, Ju—”

“No. Something did. We were happy, Y/n. It was us against the world.” He cut you off.

“That's the thing, Juyeon,” You stood up from the couch, still facing him. “We were against the world. No one liked me, Juyeon. Not even your family. That’s when I realized that maybe I was the problem. Hell, that's when I fucking realized that maybe I was too selfish. A selfish bitch that cared only about her own happiness when in fact you were exceedingly out of my league. We wouldn’t live a happy marriage even if we wanted to.”

“And you’d really let them define us?” This time Juyeon was the one who stood up to face you.

“I didn’t want to, Juyeon. But they made it so fucking hard for me! I could barely comprehend my thoughts whenever I was around them. They made me feel as if I did not have a place for you in your life. They made me feel as if I’m some kind of phase for you!”

“Y/n, do you know how hard it is for me to hear you cry yourself to sleep every night when we were together?”

Without realizing it, tears started streaming down your face. “It hurts me so damn much. I never cared about what people had to say regarding our relationship. I just focused on our happiness.” He continued.

“I did too. But it was all too much for me. They suffocated me too much just so I could let go of you. It made me realize a lot of things—that you deserve gold yet I was penniless. That you deserve flowers, but I can’t plant them even if my life depended on it.” You told him using nonsense metaphors to claim your case.

“There are so many more women who deserve you,”

“I don’t care about them, Y/n! I just want you in my life.”

“They’re better than me.”

“If it’s not you, then I don’t want it.”

You didn’t reply.

“I wanted to run away with you, Y/n. Run away to the life we both want without anyone telling us how to live our life.” You were too silent for his own liking, but he continued to talk.

“That night when I proposed, I expected you to say yes because I thought that you’d rather spend your life with me than break things off just ‘cause other people wanted us to.”

“I bought tickets, Y/n. I bought plane tickets to Paris. I remember you telling me how much you wanted to go there. I already pictured us there, getting married and starting our new life without suffocating ourselves in people’s demands.”

Saying that you were shocked by his revelation is an understatement. You never realized that he could’ve thought all of it through. You thought that you only kept your pain to yourself, when in fact Juyeon already had the plans for both of you secured.

“Y-You really did?”

“I did,” he moved closer to you. “But instead of a flight with you to Paris, all I had was a night train home all alone.”

You started to visualize it. An audible sigh escaped Juyeon’s lips as the sound of the train tracks echoed across his head, booking the night train might’ve somehow helped his repudiating state. He must’ve sat there alone, nothing but hurt and misery filling up his bones.

“I didn't know that.” You closed your eyes, not bearing to look at him.

“That's when I got a call from your mother, saying that you got in an accident,” You finally got the courage to look him directly in the eye without a teardrop falling down your cheek. Albeit, Juyeon’s eyes started to become teary. You felt bad. You felt guilty.

“I fell. I wasn’t thinking straight. I had the urge to run away and I did.”

“I was with you during your recovery. Your convalescent body made me weak. It made me think that I should’ve done more to avoid your overthinking. I should’ve reassured you more.”

You vividly remember how your mother went on and on about Juyeon’s stay with you while you were still confined at the hospital. She kept on telling you how Juyeon would never leave the room even if your mother told him to. Juyeon would sleep whilst sitting on the unstable plastic chair near your bed just in case you woke up.

You started to regret pushing him away the moment you regained consciousness. His frown clearly displayed devastation, but you were too caught up in your own emotions to grasp the importance of having him beside you.

“I should’ve told you I love you no matter what other people say.” Juyeon cupped your cheeks, you looked at him as the two of you continuously shed tears. You placed your hands on him, caressing them. He wiped away your tears and gave you a warm smile.

That smile. That benign curve between the corners of his lips gets you every single time.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doubting us. I’m sorry for letting other people tell us otherwise.” You started apologizing nonstop. You could feel your eyes becoming puffy, and your cheeks becoming warm. You simply held Juyeon’s hands and looked at him, not leaving his gaze.

“Shh. I don’t blame you for feeling that way. Your feelings are valid. You are always valid. You shouldn’t change your ways just because they tell you to. You should distance yourself from people who make you feel as if you don’t deserve to be here.” all you can do now is smile. Although tears are still forming in your eyes, you now feel safe.

“You’re not hard to understand, Y/n.” Those simple words were enough to make your heart melt. Despite confusion still lingering, you could care less now that you're within Juyeon’s embrace.

Juyeon wiped your tears, he looked at you with so much love. As if the last six months have been nothing but a burden to him. As you started to conceptualize the future, you came to conclude that you don't need to do that. You realize that with Juyeon, you shouldn’t ponder over anything or anyone and simply focus on each other.

“We'll make it through together, okay? I promise.”

He brought you to the couch to sit down. He then grabbed the alcohol bottle he brought with him the moment he came and simply threw it in the bin. Juyeon has your house memorized from ceiling to floor, and he can easily tell that nothing has changed. He went to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water and soon gave it to you as he sat down beside you.

Muttering a small “thank you”, you wiped your tears and smiled at him.

“Won't it be hard?” You asked, placing the glass down.

“What will?” He asked, fixing your hair as he tucked a strand behind your ear.

“Constantly trying to keep me reassured, me getting 'what ifs', and having a hard time coping up with everyone's say.”

Juyeon didn’t say anything yet, but he pulled you into an embrace. Playing with your hair, he started to talk, “Keeping you reassured isn’t a problem, you’re my responsibility. It’s my job to keep you assured. Just tell me all of your thoughts, alright? I’ll help you get through it.”

You released from the hug. Juyeon cupped your face and caressed it gently which made you melt in his touch.

“Can we take our time?” You asked. Juyeon gave you a reassuring nod and kissed you on the forehead.

“Always, baby.” the endearment made your heart flutter.

“Wanna order something?”Juyeon nodded, “You also need to get rid of your hangover.”

“Hey! I wasn’t drunk! I didn't even finish the bottle.” Juyeon protested which caused you to giggle. You missed this. You missed him a lot.

After ordering food, the both of you cuddled with your back facing his front as his arms held you close. It was all you ever wanted.

Perhaps it had to go like this. Perhaps the distance between the both of you for the last six months was all you two need in order to breathe and grow together. Perhaps you two were meant to break and fall back together again. Whatever it is, happiness is all you ever want.

And your happiness meant being with Juyeon regardless of the ridicule and hatred your relationship got from people surrounding the two of you.

“What if the rain stops now?” You joked, looking back at him.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me, baby. I’ll always be with you.”

#the boyz #the boyz fic #the boyz au #the boyz x reader #lee juyeon #lee juyeon x reader #kpop au #juyeon #juyeon x reader #the boyz juyeon #juyeon the boyz #juyeon au #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #juyeon imagines #tbz drabbles #tbz juyeon #juyeon smut #juyeon oneshot #the boyz oneshot #tbz oneshot #lee juyeon au

[pikahlua]

It's strange Izuku didn't think of Bakugou in particular. We didn't get a flashback with Bakugou when he died or when he came back again, and now only Kudou and En brought up Bakugou. . Bakugou is important to both Shigaraki and Deku. He triggers Shigaraki's trauma twice. Because while no one saved Shigaraki, they mobilised for Bakugou. He is Deku's symbol of victory, the most important motivation for him to get stronger and become the greatest hero. Do you think that in the process of saving

Just for the readers' benefits, I'm gonna say I'm setting aside how you've worded some assertions since you've stated you're not confident in your English. I won't respond to those other than to say I would have to add a bit more nuance about how, while Katsuki may be a very important symbol to Izuku, he is not Izuku's only symbol nor is he the only relevant symbol in this case. Other characters (especially All Might) are relevant in this fight too. While everything to ME may be about Katsuki Bakugou, that isn't true for the story itself.

I don't think it's the right time to make criticisms of MHA about these things in the current story arc when the arc isn't complete. For all we know, Katsuki (and others) WILL continue to play a role in the final battle. As you said, Katsuki WAS mentioned by Kudou and En.

I'm not saying I think Izuku will have a reflective moment about Katsuki. I don't know what sort of moment Horikoshi may have in mind, but there are two things I would like to acknowledge at this time I think we should all keep an eye on.

Izuku is using OFA to break Tomura's defenses, but we have no idea what he plans to do once those defenses are finally broken. Will OFA be of any use in this moment? Will Nana or All Might be part of that? Or will this be the moment where Izuku employs something of his own to save Tenko in a way only he could, OFA or no?

Horikoshi has chosen this memory battle for a reason. We should all note how he has set this up. He COULD have chosen to make it so Izuku would break inside Tomura and see all his memories, but no, Horikoshi CHOSE to include Izuku's memories too. Their respective memories are blending together. They're not just there for show--they're integral to the process in how Izuku will ultimately save Tomura. That means Tomura's memories AND Izuku's memories will be important in this fight. Which memories has Horikoshi identified that we need to revisit, and why? This is a very obvious opportunity for other characters to have an impact on this fight in at least one way.

If you recognize the opportunities present in the above unresolved story points, you'll see Katsuki and plenty of other characters still have some easily-identifiable avenues for participation in this.

#anon ask #ask pika #my hero academia manga spoilers #final arc spoilers

[cosmicanemoia]

Nights Like This

Ava Coleman x Reader

Inspired by Kehlani's song, Nights Like This.

"He dated me for five years, but I only dated him for 2"

The reason: you were together at the time, you see signs but you ignore them because you trust her, and when you found out and confront her, she didn't deny or even tried to apologise, but instead justify her action and calls it quit with you saying "Let's be real, we both know we ain't gonna last this long" with that she turns her back walking away from you and leaving you in tears.

Five years of relationship and it ended for a few seconds just like that. The first two years were great, but it started to strain on the third, that's when she met her boy toy, now boyfriend. She managed to lie and lie, the hiding, and sneaking out went out for years, but she got sloppy and you accidentally found out when she made reservations for both at the same time.

"Hi. Uh this table is reserved for me and my girlfriend" you said to the guy who sat opposite you. "No. This is the table reserved for me and my girlfriend" when Ava arrived, the guy grabbed her hands and kissed her, calling her sweetie. You watch in horror trying to figure out what's happening in front of your very eyes. Flashbacks started flooding your mind, showing the all the signs and reason for the scene in front of you, and all you could mutter was "I'm such an idiot" you scoff and started to collect your things before a tear starts to fall from your eyes and went out the restaurant.

Ava followed you outside. "Hey babe--" ava started talking but you cut her off "Don't babe me. I'm such a fucking idiot. How can you do this to me?" She didn't answer. You face her and lock eyes with her "How long?-- How long have you been seeing him behind my back?--" You wait for her answer, "I don't know three years, maybe" she said without remorse, your jaw drop by the revelation "oh- my- god-" you put your hand on your mouth, your breathing heavily "you should have broken up with me, instead of rubbing it in my face" she yelled at you "I didn't meant for you to find out!" "Oh. So you don't plan on telling me. Hey girlfriend I secretly have a boyfriend and I don't want you to find out" you mock "I love you and I really like him. I don't wanna hurt you" she said and you scoff "That's very foolish of you" you tell her and it triggered her "Let's be real, we both know we ain't gonna last this long" then she left and went in the restaurant to continue living her merry life, and your left with a hole in your heart.

Her obsession in climbing the social ladder makes her a cheater. And you can't hate her for being ambitious and doing anything she wants just because, even if you can, you won't, and you would never because you love her way too much more than you should. Maybe you failed showing her how much she meant to you or maybe she just didn't saw.

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

You now run a non profit organisation with your friends who are also your colleagues from your actual job.

You are a ghost writer. Not caring much about the publicity or fame, you love being a ghost writer. Though sometimes people convince you to agree to be credited and have your name along with the other writers, they said only few people look for the writers nowadays. You agreed in the end, but you told them they have to use your pen name and not your actual name or else you're out.

The songs and stories you ghost write are doing pretty great and are instantly becoming a hit and more request comes your way.

You and your friends were out celebrating your joint success and you all agreed to give back to the community.

You and your colleagues ended up deciding to do a Charity event rather than choosing to donate to just one establishment.

Every teacher and principal are invited. All kinds of people who works at a school is encouraged to attend.

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

Gregory, Jacob, and Janine, were sitting on the sofa in the teacher's lounge while Barbara and Melissa sat in their usual spot.

Janine suddenly stands up and squealed eagerly "check it out. There's a charity ball and we should all attend" Ava walks in unnoticed

It was Janine's idea to attend. She was scrolling through her phone and she saw her feed flooded by the news of the upcoming event. One or the only best idea she's ever had. But Ava heard it "Oh. I was just about to tell you that. We all should come. It'll be fun, seeing you all dressed up and looking nice tonight" she looks over at Gregory "looking forward to seeing you in a suit, young idris" she proceed to wink at him and look at the camera to give it a wink too.

Janine frowned "the ball is on Friday night. It's still Tuesday" Ava looked at her up and down with a pout on her face "that's literally what I said"

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch and everyone dispersed. Everyone went to get their kids or went right to their classroom. Ava went to her office and open her laptop checking the charity ball Janine was talking about.

She saw the poster and the slogan. She thinks its well made, pretty, and inviting. She didn't read all the details and just skimmed it for the date and the theme. She didn't see your name on it, she didn't know you were one of the hosts.

---------------------------‐---------------------------

The night of the charity ball have arrived.

Everyone looks elegant. People converse with each other while waiting for the hosts to start the event.

After a minutes of waiting for others to arrive you decided to kick start the event so you walk up the stage and tap the microphone, checking if its on or working.

You cleared your throat and speak loudly and clearly "Hello, Beautiful people. I just want to steal your attention for a brief moment. I am Y/N Y/L/N. I am one of your hosts tonight and I invited generous people whom you can ask for money and get the fund you needed for projects or supplies you want to have at your school. Let's get this party started, and oh- one more thing, don't be shy to ask for the stars. Have a good one everyone, we have an open bar."

Everyone applaud and cheers. A whoo and a whoop whoop here and there, high fives all around, and loud whistles.

Janine, Barbara, Melissa, Gregory, and Jacob walk towards you and surrounds you. They introduce themselves and the school they teach from. You shook each of their hands and you listen to their stories.

You were convinced you were going to help and donate at Abbott elementary. Not because of their sob stories but because the genuinity you feel coming off their vibes and the way they talk about the students. They truly love and care for them.

Another school steal your attention from them, so you excuse yourself to listen to the others and give them their chance.

When you were away from them, they noticed that someone was missing from their group. So they scan the area and they saw their boss, the principal of Abbot Elementary, Ava Coleman, is sitting in the open bar. They all decided to walk up to the open bar.

"I'm okay. No need to check on me" she said without turning her head to look at them. Melissa snorts and Barbara grinned "I'm just here to enjoy and get shit-faced, kid" Melissa replied. "It is an open bar after all" Barbara added.

After one too many drinks they told Ava to talk to you and use her charm on you, unaware of the past you shared, their convincing her to woo you, so you would help and donate to the school they all care for.

Ava did what she was told, convince that she should at least give it a try and that she'll lose nothing, anyway.

"What's up?" She nodded in your direction. You chuckled "we don't have to do this. You can just ignore me all you want. I assure you it won't affect my decision" she looks away from you so you look at her and for a moment you thought she was contemplating saying sorry, but alas, it was indeed just in your head "OK. Thanks hottie" she starts to walk away from you "You're welcome. Shawty" you shouted for her to hear, you know she heard you and she did, but she didn't look back or acknowledge your statement she just kept walking away from you, again.

"That was fast" Janine complimented which made Ava scoff, "Do you too know each other well?" Jacob asked and everyone turns their attention to Ava looking at her with anticipation "What?!" She said in a high pitched tone. Everyone looks at her accusingly, she sigh in defeat "She told me, I should just ignore her and that we don't have to do that. She's my ex." Everyone groans and are shocked with the revelation.

"We're never gonna get that donation, are we?" Melissa said to everyone and to herself "Let's just hope she's not petty or vain enough to stop helping us because our principal broke her heart" She added and scoffs

"No. She's cool. She said it won't affect her decision.-- How did you know it was me who broke her heart?" Ava replied "Aren't you?" Gregory asked, she just look at them one by one and order a stronger drink to get her through the night.

You walk up on stage a little tipsy "Hi, people. Is everyone having fun?" Everyone cheered and shouted "YEAH!" You smiled to yourself "well let me add to the fun your having. I have a surprise guest. Everyone give a round of applause to my friend, Kehlani!"

Most of them cheered and applauded, standing up from their seats and walking closer to the stage, and some are shocked and kept where they were when you made the announcement with their jaws almost hitting the floor.

"Thanks babe. Good evening to you all. Here's a song I think you all know, what you didn't know is that she help wrote it with us" kehlani said on the microphone and points at you.

It was dark for a moment and all the lights went out until the song started playing and the small stage light up.

.......Thought you was mine, but you decided to be with him though. You took my feelings and just threw 'em out the window.......On some nights like this, shawty, I can't help but think of us.......You gon' say you want me, then go switch it up

Just gon' play with my emotions just because, no.......All them times I played the fool for you. Thinking we could put it back together, thought we had forever. You never see my point of view.......

Since the song started everything became a blur, 'I might have way too many drink' you smiled at yourself and went to the bathroom to wash you face.

Ava saw you making your way to the bathroom and without thinking her body moved on its own and decided to follow you there to check up on you.

When you lift your face up from the sink after splashing water on your face you saw a figure standing behind you, you took a paper towel and gently wipe the water off your face. Your vision cleared and the figure behind you was ava staring at your reflection.

She crept a hand on your back to try to give you comfort planning to ask how are you, but you dismissed her "Don't" and you walk out the bathroom leaving Ava dumbfounded.

A few seconds later you came back barging in the bathroom door. You walk up to her, you are now standing face to face, "I told you to ignore me. Why are you here? What do you want?" You stated, your voice laced with anger "I didn't know you know Kehlani and that you help wrote that bop" Ava said, always talking without thinking, a quality you once greatly admire.

You were quite for a moment, "You want to meet her." You look down and nodded. You look her in the eye and sigh you were about to say 'okay' but she speak first "I want you. I miss you. I'm sorry." her eyes glistened and you could feel she's mustering courage for what she's about to do, then she kisses you softly and gently, but you are not reacting or moving so she pulls away from you.

A tear was about to fall on her eye but before it happened you grabbed her hips and pushed her against the wall. You linger, your lips centimeters away from hers, you moved your nose to her neck and inhaled her scent "you copied my perfume" the heat of your breath on her neck makes her blush and have goosebumps. You slide your nose up and down her neck, teasing her.

"Please" she beg, desperation evident in the way she said it. Her arms start to wrap around your waist but you didn't let her, you grabbed her arms and pushed it beside her, "I didn't tell you, you could touch me" you said then you slide your tongue on the pulse point on her neck

"Please. Please. I'm begging you, just do it" she said while she's catching her breath, she seems like she just finished a long run "do what?" You tease her more.

"F- Fuck. Fuck me. Please." Her breath hitches. You kiss her neck then bite her and leave a mark. She let out a moan but it was quickly Interrupted when you finally kissed her on her lips.

You lift her up and sat her on the sink. You smirk to yourself thinking where this is going to go.

You heard the doorknob rattled and quickly pulled away from Ava, you look in the mirror and try to fix your posture, she jumps down the sink to do the same. It was Barbara, she came to the bathroom to wash her hands.

"Barbara you're fired" Ava said jokingly, Barbara replied sarcastically "Sure. Dear"

Ava scans the bathroom looking for you, you already went out when you finished tidying yourself when you got Interrupted. She went out the bathroom when she didn't saw you, she scans the room and saw you slow dancing with someone.

You're dancing with the famous singer, your forehead clashing at each other while your arms are around her neck, and hers are around your waist, hands almost or actually touching your butt.

Ava stopped on her tracks when she saw you in somebody else's embrace. Her chest tightens and she's hurting. She gulped and tried hard to make her body move to the bar, and when she get there she ordered the strongest drink they could offer. She wants to spit it out and be disgusted but with the bitter drink, she also swallows the bitter truth. You were not hers anymore and she knows she's the reason why.

#Spotify #ava coleman x reader #ava coleman x original female character #ava coleman x you #abbott elementary #sapphic #lesbian #bisexual #wlw #kehlani #fxf #ava coleman imagine #exes #abbott elementary x reader #wlw imagine #ava coleman #ava coleman x female reader

[queen-dahlia]

𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐯𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗥𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟵

CW: Mentions of rape

Note: Translation is not 100% accurate. Expect grammatical errors.

// : alternate translation | ⫘⫘ : flashback | 4:4 answer

Gilbert: "Now, again... If you have something to say, I'll listen to you, Little Bunny?"

Before my eyes is His Majesty the Emperor, who rules the great nation of Obsidian—

A commander-in-chief who possesses the power to overwhelm other countries with just one voice.

(… However, it's just a title with a big name; the one inside is Lord Gilbert.)

Looking up at the throne, there is no need to be too afraid.

Emma: "Then, if I may be so bold as to presume..."

Emma: "Why does Your Majesty the Emperor push for the invasion of other countries?"

It was the first thing I wanted to ask the "Emperor," not Lord Gilbert.

Obsidian has always plotted to expand its territory as a matter of policy.

I don't understand the intention of wanting to continue the invasion to the point of trampling on other countries' cultures, ideologies, and lives.

Gilbert: "The ostensible reason is to protect our own people. Obsidian has a lot of barren land compared to how vast the land is."

Gilbert: "We always had the problem of food shortages, and exploitation was necessary to keep the people alive."

Emma: "… What's the purpose behind this?"

Gilbert: "I hate dirty things."

Gilbert: "I hate deception, corruption, bribery, all of it. But the way the continent is structured now, they occur frequently."

Gilbert: "It's not just Obsidian. Wasn't there a trace of corruption in Rhodolite too?"

Emma: "Do you mean the orphanage?"

Gilbert: "Yes, there was some of that, but what about the larger corruption—the debauchery of His Majesty the King?"

(Debauchery... meaning being drowned in women, I guess that fits.)

Gilbert: "He used his power to heal the wounds of a broken heart, and he laid his hands on many women."

Gilbert: "… Do you know the story of Luke's mother?"

Emma: "No…"

Gilbert: "His mother was a mere maid in the service of the court."

Gilbert: "But the king forced himself on her because she looked like the woman he loved."

(…!)

Gilbert: "She left the court heartbroken and secretly gave birth to Luke."

Gilbert: "Do you think the king was punished for this? Yes, of course, he was not punished."

Gilbert: "Because he is the supreme authority in Rhodolite…"

Gilbert: "And because he had the right to do as he pleased with those below him."

(If what you just said is true... I can't defend him even though he is the king of my country.)

(No matter how wise a king he was, it is unforgivable.)

Gilbert: "Do you think that's unusual?"

Emma: "… At least, it's not something that happens very often."

Gilbert: "That's what it is."

Emma: "On what basis…"

Gilbert: "It's the result of statistics on the internal affairs of the countries I've ruled."

(… It's not an emotional story; rather, it's a grounded story.)

Gilbert: "It is not uncommon for a royal family to become prodigal, and in worse cases, there are countries that enslave their people."

Gilbert: "This continent was built on authoritarianism. It is a world dominated by royalty and nobility."

Gilbert: "It is ingrained in your bones that a lowly person like you should not defy those in power."

Gilbert: "You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Remember when you were chosen as Belle?"

Gilbert: "The report is that... you did not hesitate to slap a man who had been disrespectful to Chevalier."

Gilbert: "That was because you quickly decided that if anyone disrespects those in power, they will be killed."

Gilbert: "He actually pointed a sword at you, making sure his judgment was correct…"

Gilbert: "It's a funny thing when you think about it. How can one be guilty of disrespect?"

(I never thought about it before.)

For me, the royal family has always been recognized as "a person to be respected," and even if he was disrespectful and had a sword pointed at me, I tried to understand it because "he is a member of the royal family."

Gilbert: "There is no superiority or inferiority between you and me. As long as we are humans, we should all be the same."

Gilbert: "Of course, it may be necessary to have someone to lead socially."

Gilbert: "An outstanding person brings people together and builds a better tomorrow. That's how a person should be."

Gilbert: "But, you know, on the continent today, it's all about who has the power and who can get others to behave as they please."

Gilbert: "Of course, not all of them, okay? The Princes of Rhodolite are quite excellent in that regard."

Gilbert: "Even Silvio and Keith will be good monarchs."

Emma: "Then—"

Gilbert: "His Majesty the King of Rhodolite used to be a reputable monarch."

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "People are creatures of change. There is no such thing as "absolutes."

Gilbert: "That's why authoritarianism shouldn't exist in the first place."

Gilbert: "There were only a handful of wise kings if you look at history."

(In other words, Lord Gilbert...)

Gilbert: "Because the king of a country that knows so much about deception and corruption…"

Gilbert: "My "ideal" is to trample down all the royal families that spread throughout the continent and free the people from the rule of power."

What I felt from Lord Gilbert was a strong will that resembled a solid castle wall.

No one can change him or stop him. I assume it is that kind of thing.

(A revolution involving not only his own country but the entire continent...)

(I know it would end up as a dream story for normal people, but not for Lord Gilbert.)

(But it's strange.)

Emma: "… It's contradictory."

Emma: "Isn't Lord Gilbert the epitome of that power?"

The figure sitting on the throne and looking down at me is exactly the "authority" that Lord Gilbert hates.

(Even though you once threatened me with that power...)

Emma: "Are you an exception?"

Gilbert: "Ahaha! No way."

Gilbert: "If the people in power disappear and a new era comes, I will be the first to become unnecessary."

Gilbert: "I might as well die then, right?"

Emma: "… Uh."

(What are you... saying...)

His usual refreshing smile shines brightly on his throne.

I couldn't believe my ears and wondered if I heard him wrong.

Gilbert: "Because it's natural. I want to wipe out those in power, but it's not right for me to survive."

Gilbert: "Especially the Obsidian royal family, the most evil bloodline on the continent."

Gilbert: "It's better for the world if it's destroyed... Ah, but if I'm going to die anyway, I want Little Bunny to kill me."

Gilbert: "If you do that, you'll remember me forever, won't you?"   //   "That way you will remember me for the rest of your life, right?"

Emma: "That's... of course I'm not going to do that!"

I screamed without a moment's delay.

Even if it is a joke, it is a bad one.

(Lord Gilbert's ideal is based on the assumption that he will die in the end.)

(And he doesn't think anything of it.)

It would have been better if he had said, "I'm an exception," like a villain.

Emma: "… Why do you go to such lengths to exile those in power?"

Emma: "Lord Gilbert should have benefited from the power...even to the point of killing himself..."

Gilbert: "That's..."

Gilbert: "… A secret."

(… That part is a secret.)

Gilbert: "But I don't think it's a bad deal for you."

Gilbert: "Rather, it would be more convenient for you if I died."

(…!)

Gilbert: "If I'm gone, maybe Rhodolite won't be trampled and the world will continue like this."

Gilbert: "Besides, when I die, you will be properly released."

Gilbert: "You can settle in Obsidian or go back to Rhodolite, whatever you want."

Gilbert: "Because the "power" that holds you back is gone."

(What is that...)

The front of my eyes were pure white, and the back of my head felt hot.

Emma: "… Are you serious?"

My voice spilled out unintentionally, and it was lower than usual.

Gilbert: "Of course—"

Gilbert: "… What's wrong?"

(What's wrong... with me?)

I look down, and my fists are shaking.

(Even if you're a big villain, I've never wanted you dead. I didn't even think about it.)

(Lord Gilbert... was not the kind of person who could think such a thing.)

It may be possible to think that it is a great villain who cannot be saved, I am already poisoned by malicious kindness.

And that kindness itself shouldn't have been a lie.

I suffered at Rhodolite because I was repeatedly exposed to Lord Gilbert's good intentions.

What he just said was an outright denial of that suffering and struggle.

(After acting like he was such a good friend of mine...)

(When the time comes, should I kill him? Is it better if he is dead? **

(… Don't be silly.)

I have no right to say anything about Lord Gilbert's ideals.

But for those few words, I should have the right to be angry.

Gilbert: "I don't get it. I don't see anything to be angry about right now..."

Emma: "Because you don't know that, it means that Lord Gilbert is not really my friend!"

Emma: "If you thought that I was the kind of person who would be happy to see you dead, that is beyond disappointing!"

The voice echoes to destroy the intimidation of the throne room.

Lord Gilbert, who could be seen in the distance, seemed taken aback.

(… I wish I were so evil that I wanted to kill him anyway.)

(Oh, this is bad...)

I feel like my vision is blurry.

As I wrinkled my brow and held on, I suddenly felt a breeze behind me.

???: "Lord Gilbert!!!"

(Whoa, what the!?)

A man in military uniform pushes open the door to the throne room and walks in,

Without paying attention to me, he pushes his way to the bottom of the stairs as if he were about to attack Lord Gilbert.

???: "You... you left the castle without saying anything again!"

???: "How much more do you want to shorten my lifespan?! Come on, now, let's test—"

???: ". . . . . ."

(... Oh, our eyes met.)

The man with curly hair stiffens, and so do I.

A strange silence fell.

Gilbert: "Good for you, huh? If you had slipped up just a little bit more, you... today would be the anniversary of your death."

???: "Who is she?"

Gilbert: "The Lady of Rhodolite."

???: "Rhodolite's… Ah! What? She really exists? Lord Gilbert's first—"

Gilbert: "Huh? You must really want to die."

(…?)

The man deliberately clears his throat and turns to me.

The salute-like gesture may be Obsidian's way of saying "hello."

Walter: "You are Emma, right? I've heard rumors about you... I'm Walter. My occupation is—"

Gilbert: "My aide. Servant. A maid. I'm having an audience, will you leave?"

(… I feel like he's deliberately covering his words again just now.)

(How did you know my name in the first place… What's the rumor?)

(I wonder if Obsidian has heard about the story of Rhodolite...)

As soon as the man finished his greeting, he pointed his finger at Lord Gilbert.

It felt like an obvious act of disrespect, but there was no one there to reproach it.

Walter: "I will definitely visit you later. Listen, please don't run away. Even if you do, I will let Roderich catch you."

Gilbert: "Alright, alright. I'll act like an adult when I feel like it."

Walter: "Not when you feel like it... but absolutely!"

Gilbert: "Okay, okay."

After a strong tone of voice and a reminder, the man leaves.

It was like a storm.

Gilbert: "… I've lost interest."

With a resounding sigh, Lord Gilbert stands up from his throne.

The audience is apparently over.

(Me too... I'm not sure I can speak well right now.)

Lord Gilbert descends the stairs with the sound of his cane.

He came right next to me, and I didn't make eye contact with him.

Gilbert: "Yes. The fact that I am His Majesty the Emperor has only been revealed to a limited number of people."

Gilbert: "You know what I mean… right?"

(He'd like to say he'd kill me if I ever told anyone about it.)

I nodded while looking away, and Lord Gilbert took another breath.

Gilbert: "What can I do to put you in a better mood..."

(... I really don't know.)

(A genius like Prince Chevalier, who can easily manipulate people's minds...)

Gilbert: "A whole day's sleep will do it, right? By the way, I've got your room all ready for you."

Gilbert: "I asked them to make the interior as similar to Rhodolite as possible, but I hope you like it."

(I can't believe he even had a room ready for me.)

This is Obsidian. There is no need to isolate me by daring to be friendly, like in Rhodolite.

Still, Lord Gilbert's poison-like kindness hasn't changed.

I am tormented again by being treated not as a hostage but as a guest of honor.

Emma: "… That's the point…"

Gilbert: "Hm?"

Emma: "Nothing..."

(I hate… this feeling.)

══════════════════

—After taking Emma to her room, he returned to his own room for the first time in a long time and found himself in an unusual silence.

Walter: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "How much longer?"

Gilbert laughs as he buttons his shirt.

But Walter, sitting in the chair across from him, said nothing.

Walter: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "I'm asking you, so tell me."

Walter: "… You really..."

The chair falls over in the moment of a vigorous standing up.

Walter: "I beg you, please stop. This country goes on without you. That's how you were raised. So..."

Gilbert: "You didn't answer my question."

Walter covers his face with his hands under the pressure of his compelling smile.

His fingertips trembled, and his breath spilled from the gaps.

Walter: "… I don't want to say it."

Gilbert: "I see... it was the right decision to return home a little earlier."

Walter: "Hey… That story you've been telling me for a long time—seriously think about it. Now, I really believe you." **

Gilbert: "It's not a matter of believing or not believing, it's not necessary in the first place."

Walter: "Then why did you bring that woman here!"

Gilbert: "… That's terrible."

Gilbert: "Because I’m a big villain who couldn't be saved."

Walter: "You..."

A blood-colored, cold gaze pierces Walter, as if to interrupt his fury.

A pressure resembling murderous intent dominated the place in an instant.

Gilbert: "Never speak of it. She is no exception."

Walter: "That woman... she doesn't know yet?"

Gilbert: "She doesn't know, and she never will. And I have no intention of telling her."

Gilbert: "I'm going to rest now. Good night."

Walter: ". . . . . ."

Walter: "I'm not giving up."

Grabbing a sturdy-looking bag from the desk, Walter leaves the room.

Gilbert: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "… Why…"

Gilbert: "Why wasn't Little Bunny... happy about it?"   //   "I wonder why the little rabbit... wasn't pleased."

══════════════════

Obsidian is synonymous with evil, so much so that it was called the land of deceit and corruption.

When it comes to life in the castle, which is its home base, I imagined it to be brutal.

I was prepared for the fact that I would not be treated well, including being in a vulnerable position…

Gilbert: "Look, Little Bunny. So, how do you like it?"

Emma: "This... is a kitchen."

Gilbert: "Yes, a kitchen. Your very own kitchen."

Emma: "!?"

(Next to the guest room, there is a kitchen! W-What do you mean...)

Far from being treated badly, it is rather too good to pull off.

I had been dragging out yesterday's events until a few minutes ago, but it was such a shock that it blew away, even if only temporarily.

Gilbert: "This is the same as the room, I had them prepared in advance."

Gilbert: "Do you know why I... prepared the kitchen?"

(I see... that means...)

Emma: "You want me to make sweets."

Gilbert: "As expected of Little Bunny. I'm glad you know me so well."

Gilbert: "—… Actually, I just wanted to please you."   //   "—… I really just wanted to make you happy."

Emma: "… What is it now?"

Gilbert: "No, it was nothing."

(I can't believe you liked it enough to prepare a kitchen…)

(I've only served amateur sweets... and they were as simple as cookies.)

Lord Gilbert's smile was so bright that he seemed like a different person from the emperor who sat on the throne yesterday.

Gilbert: "You are free to use any of the ingredients here."

(Let's see... eggs, milk, flour, sugar, fruits, vegetables... that's quite a lot of variety.)

Emma: "I have heard that Obsidian is suffering from food shortages..."

Gilbert: "It's not like that these days, you know?"

Gilbert: "Because we have built supply lines and established stable food production technology in the last 10 years."

(That's right... just like Prince Chevalier said.)

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Chevalier: "—Second, I want to know the degree of development of Obsidian's technology."

Chevalier: "Obsidian's military engineering technology seems to be quite advanced..."

Chevalier: "Those technologies must have been applied to many things related to daily life."

Chevalier: "Aside from the rural areas, the central areas may be even different."

Chevalier: "Go and see for yourself."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gilbert: "—Obsidian has a lot of barren areas despite its vast land. But just because it's barren doesn't mean it has land."

Lord Gilbert spun his words without any hesitation. His eyes were somewhat lively.

Gilbert: "If we can build facilities that can grow crops regardless of the soil, it will take a lot of work, but there is no reason why we can't provide food in our own country."

Gilbert: "If we can produce food, we can also produce the fodder necessary for livestock. That's why we don't have food shortages right now."

Gilbert: "By the way, most of the food here comes from the research facility in the castle."

Gilbert: "We can't put those on the market... but we collect things that are a waste to throw away."

Gilbert: "Then it's also sweets that help eliminate the loss of ingredients."

Gilbert: "That's what I mean."

(Though the way you spoke just now was like your own achievement…)

Emma: "… Did Lord Gilbert solve the problem of food shortages?"

Gilbert: "Of course, it's my job. The food supply is an important issue, necessary to guarantee a minimum standard of living."

Gilbert: "Did you think we were always at war?"

Emma: "… I'm sorry."

(As expected, the idea was shallow.)

I had the impression that Obsidian was focusing on military affairs and neglecting domestic affairs, but it seems I was just being shallow.

Gilbert: "Hehe... your image is not wrong either. The Emperor has always had that policy."

Perhaps the "emperor" here was the late former emperor.

Gilbert: "He won a lot of countries, but he didn't look inward at all."

Gilbert: "They were almost lawless, so Albert and I spent a lot of time trying to improve it."

Gilbert: "Well, the regions are still so corrupt that I think I'm only halfway there."

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "More than—"

(Whoa…!)

Suddenly I am hugged on the shoulder, and my body leans back.

I fell into his cold chest with all my might, but he held me.

Gilbert: "What? Can't you just read the atmosphere and leave us alone?"

(… What the…)

(!?)

When Lord Gilbert calls out to the doorway, a crowd of soldiers appears.

1, 2, 3 — Surrounded by about 10 male and female military personnel, my body stiffened.

(I didn't notice it at all. I guess they were waiting for Lord Gilbert outside.)

Soldier 1: "I am sorry. Lord Gilbert, the military has asked me to consult with you concerning the budget..."

Soldier 2: "I, too, would like to ask Lord Gilbert's advice on lifeline capital investment—"

Gilbert: "You know, I've been telling you for a long time. You don't have to rely on my judgment every time."

(... Eh, even though he's the Emperor?)

Gilbert: "You are professionals in each field whose abilities have been bought."

Gilbert: "I'm giving you full authority because I think you can do it. Or what? Do you doubt my eyes?"

Soldier 1: "No, sir! But I would like to have your opinion, Lord Gilbert, because it would be very helpful..."

Soldier 2: "Please. After all, there is no one better than Lord Gilbert's keen eye!"

Gilbert: "Nope. Everyone, you can see that I'm busy, right?"

Instead of letting me go, he holds me tighter.

The gazes of the soldiers were clearly perplexed and bewildered.

Emma: "Uh… No! No, he isn't! Please give priority to your official duties." **

Gilbert: "Ehh..."

Emma: "In the meantime, I'll make you some sweets, how about that?"

Gilbert: "… I think I'm the one who's sulking."

Emma: "Lord Gilbert…"

Gilbert: "All right, all right. Just for today."

With a deliberate shrug, Lord Gilbert finally moves away from me.

Gilbert: "All of you, make it quick. Each of you has two minutes."

Lord Gilbert walks into the circle of soldiers, and the atmosphere changes.

I could see that the people gathered were tense and straightened their backs.

But that is not a bad thing.

Rather than dominating through fear, they seem to be voluntarily respecting Lord Gilbert out of reverence.

(… It became clear to me when I came to Obsidian).

(Lord Gilbert is an emperor who can act for the people.)

Looking back on our discussion of ideals the other day, it was also about being close to the weak.

While he acts like a big villain in other countries, he appears to be a perfectly good emperor in his own country.

(But there are some things that bother me.)

What the soldiers are talking about is the kind of thing that the nobles and bureaucrats bring to Rhodolite.

However, there are no signs of nobility at all in this castle.

(Even though Obsidian is a country of military and ore, it's unnatural that there are only soldiers—)

══════════════════

Gilbert: "Ah, is that so?"

In the end, soldiers gathered one after another under Lord Gilbert, and even though each person had two minutes, it was nighttime by the time they had all been processed.

Lord Gilbert, who was in a very bad mood because of this, took me back to his room with the baked cookies,

He started a tea party on the bed in a bad manner.

(Actually, I was surprised that Lord Gilbert's room was like a library…)

(I have a lot of questions, like what kind of books are on the bookshelves…)

What I asked before them was about the wonder of the absence of the nobles.

Gilbert: "It's the same as His Majesty the former emperor."

Emma: "The same...?"

Gilbert: "Yeah. I killed them."

I felt dizzy.

Emma: "… Not only the emperor, but also the nobles?"

Gilbert: "Of course, I didn't kill them all, okay? I just wanted to clean up the deceit and corruption, and there are still a lot of nobles out there."

Gilbert: "The people who work in the castle are all highly qualified, chosen from a wide range of people, from commoners to nobles."

Gilbert: "The reason they are all dressed almost entirely in military uniform is to break down the barriers between the nobles and the commoners."

Gilbert: "The castle you are in is still not perfect, but it's better than it was a decade ago."

Emma: ". . . . . ."

(I knew it, but life may be the same as dust for Lord Gilbert.)

(So he lost the value of his own life as well... the more he killed people, the more he lost the importance of his life.) **

No matter what the reason may be, the act of killing is inherently unforgivable.

Perhaps Lord Gilbert knows this, which is why he doesn't cling to his own life.

(… Even though I'm calm.)

My chest feels murky again.

I can't taste the cookie in my mouth.

When I cast my eyes down, cold fingers grabbed my chin as if to say no—

Gilbert: "Hey, I want you to tell me one thing too..."

#サイバード #イケメン王子 #ギルベルト=フォン=オブシディアン #ikemen prince #ikemen prince gilbert von obsidian #ikemen prince gilbert #ikeprince #ikeprince gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince jp #ikepri jp #ikeprince translation #ikepri gilbert route spoilers #ikemen prince spoilers #ikeprince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #dahlia's bad translation

[missmaywemeetagain]

Broken Glass Chapter 5 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹

TW: Allusions/emotional flashbacks to previous sexual assault/abuse. AGNSTY TENSION. Affection 'rehearsals' hehehe.The Colonel. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers. Hurt/Comfort.

Rating: PG-13? (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)   ||     Word Count: 8.3k

A/N: Oh, my darlin's, I'm sorry this took so long, but the next installment is FINALLY HERE! And it's hefty! Hopefully the ridiculous amount of angsty, yearning, slow-burny tension makes up for the delay. 😏 I think (hope) you're really gonna like this one cuz things start to get a tad steamier between our little Dolores and our handsome Elvis. Teehee 🤭 I honestly can't wait to see what y'all think of this chapter!

And thank you SO MUCH for the encouraging comments and asks coming in about this work. I was really afraid no one was interested in this one because it's such a slow burn, but y'all are giving it some love and that makes my heart sing! ❤️ Thank you for continuing to reblog, like, comment, and ask!

(BTW, I'm still working on fixing my masterlists and hope to have that done soon! Until then, you might want to visit my Wattpad or AO3, to catch up or reread...)

The physical pressure of hundreds of screaming and crying fans coupled with reporters shouting garbled questions has you feeling as though your head might burst. You don’t know how anyone could ever get used to this or find any semblance of safety in what seems like a riot waiting to happen, but even in his weakened state, Elvis smiles charmingly at the crowd. He seems unfazed by the way these girls reach for him with wild eyes, with a fervor unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Even more, the way he hesitates tells you he wants to stop in the throng to speak to them and sign autographs. You have to squeeze his hand and pull him towards the waiting train to remind him it’s not possible, not today anyway.

For the first time, you are grateful for the way his long, slender fingers wrap around yours, his hand tight around you. You fear if he lets go you will be lost and trampled by the crowd, unable to get on the train that will take you away from the hell that awaits if you stay. You try not to think too hard about the looks the fans give you, ranging between abject curiosity to outright jealousy from the way their idol grips you.

Finally, you all make it up into the large coach, and you let out the breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. You assume that Elvis will release you the moment you step into the relative quiet of the passenger carriage, but instead he wraps his arm around your waist in an intimate way that almost shocks you. It’s then, when you turn to shoot him a warning look, that you realize how pale he looks, sweat beading at his temples. He is using you to stay upright, to save face in front of everyone. Concern rolls through you. Looking over at him, your heart skips with anxiety of how to get him alone to check him out. But subterfuge is not your specialty and you falter.

Somehow, even in his illness, Elvis picks up on your dilemma. “Hey, we’re both tuckered out and are gonna get some rest,” he slurs out with a chuckle, emphasizing tuckered out and rest as though implying something completely unrelated to sleep. Normally, you would be appalled at the suggestive nature of the statement, but by the way he grips your waist as if his life depends on it, you know this has nothing at all to do with sex. He’s covering, giving you both an excuse to be alone.

Lamar gives Elvis what he thinks is a knowing grin, while the Colonel and Vernon try to hide the worry in their eyes.  

Elvis clings close to you, leaning on you as he guides you towards the next train car. You suppose to anyone looking, his weakness is confused with affection for the way he places his head on yours and holds you tight. And all this might make you uncomfortable if not for the fact that you know he’s in distress of some kind. Your mind is already whirring with what you need to do, which takes away from the fact that you’ve allowed more physical contact from Elvis in the last few days than you would have liked.

But such is the job, you think. This incredibly bizarre and unbelievable job.

In the next car, you both stumble into the narrow hallway on one side as Elvis looks through the little windows and into the private compartments until he sees his things, along with yours, on the floor. You are a little surprised at the size of the room as you both lurch through the doorway, it being equipped with everything from two larger-sized beds, a sink, and what you assume is a small toilet behind another door. You’ve never seen anything like it, considering your experience of train travel is limited to the subway and the Long Island Railroad. If you weren’t so preoccupied with helping Elvis, you might stop to admire how the other half lives.

Thankfully, someone had already retrieved your luggage, along with your medical bag, from the car and hauled it onto the train. You are suddenly mortified at the assumption that you are staying in the same quarters as Elvis. And, worse, by the looks of it, it’s true. A sick feeling churns in your stomach when you realize this won’t likely be the only time people jump to that conclusion; in fact, it’s what the Colonel and Elvis want people to think. In your haste to get out of New York, you didn’t have time to think about how such things might tarnish your reputation.

What reputation? I’m already damaged goods.

You think you might vomit at that.

Elvis plops down on the edge of one of the beds, with a sigh of what you think might be relief. “You look a little green in the gills there, honey…you all right?” he gasps out.

His words yank you from your dismal thoughts. “I’m fine,” you snap, pulling the curtains closed. Covering your embarrassment with ire, you know he shouldn’t be worrying about you anyway, not in his condition. Then you rifle through your bag for your thermometer, stethoscope, and blood pressure cuff, placing them on the bed next to him.

“Sorry I asked.” He holds his hands up in surrender.

“How are you feeling?” you ask quietly, changing the subject. “How’s your breathing?”

“I feel pretty damn awful, but I ain’t breathin’ too bad,” he responds, breathless, looking up at you with glassy, innocent eyes. Going through your mental checklist, you feel his forehead and his cheeks with your wrist. He’s cold and clammy, and a little too pale for your liking.

“You’ve got to be honest with me, Elvis, or else I can’t help you. I can hear you wheezing,” you say, popping the thermometer in his mouth before he can rebut. He shrugs instead, batting those infuriatingly long lashes at you.

You place your fingers at his pulse point and watch the second hand on your watch. Doing the math in your head, you realize his pulse is faster and more thready than you’d like.

“Can you…?” you motion towards his necktie and shirt. He nods, gleaning your meaning, and shrugs out of his heavy coat and uniform jacket, throwing them off to the side. In the meantime, you remove your own winter coat. Luckily, the coach is warm enough that you feel comfortable but not stifled by the heat.

You pluck the thermometer from his mouth. “No fever, though your temperature is slightly elevated,” you tick off, shaking the mercury in the glass out of habit.

Elvis unties his tie, pulling it off unceremoniously. “That’s good, right?” he asks, while undoing the buttons on his shirt. You notice his hands are shaking slightly and his shirt is soaked through with sweat.

“Well, based on the state of you, I’m thinking you had a fever at the base,” you say with concern, “but, yes, it’s better that you don’t have one now.”

He pauses, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his white undershirt.

“All the way off, please,” you command, and he raises a perfect eyebrow at you suggestively.

“Usually, girls are a little more excited when asking me to undress,” he says coyly, his lip raising in that smirk of his.

You roll your eyes, trying not to think about that, and hold up the blood pressure cuff instead.

“Ooh, one of those kinky types, huh?” he winks with a chuckle, which quickly turns into a hacking cough.

“Is it possible for you to be serious for more than two seconds?” you scoff, annoyed at the heat that’s risen to your cheeks despite yourself.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with faux seriousness, saluting you. He bites his lips together to hide his smile as you wrap the cuff around his bicep.

You try to temper your annoyance with the fact that he’s going through a lot and managed to put on a performance of a lifetime in front of all those reporters and fans, considering how awful he must be feeling physically.

It’s actually rather remarkable, you think, that he has that kind of commitment and fortitude. The man could barely stand a day ago and has somehow managed, through sheer willpower, to get himself out of the hospital. The hospital he should still be in.

A wave of unease washes over you when you realize you are the only one managing his care for the time being. If something happens to him on my watch…The pressure of that responsibility feels almost untenable after seeing the hordes of fans outside. Your stomach rolls again.

Distracted, you are reaching for the stethoscope when you hear the sliding door begin to move. Your heart skips a beat with panic because no one is supposed to know what you are actually here for and with your medical supplies out, it will be quite obvious to anyone looking in. Frozen and wide-eyed, there is only a second to look at Elvis before he is springing into action.

A little yelp escapes you as he yanks you down sideways into his lap and wastes no time in pulling your head towards him. When you realize he fully intends to kiss you, your entire body tenses because Gianni suddenly flashes in your mind. Fear courses through you—not again, please, not again—and you cannot seem to grasp what and why this is currently happening. Gasping, you turn your head just in time for Elvis’ pillowy lips to meet your cheek.

His large hands grip your waist tight to him, not allowing you to jump away as you attempt to flee his lap. But when his soft lips travel down your cheek and continue downward, your body suddenly lights up as though he’s set you on fire, and not at all in a way you expect. Tingles alight under your skin, circumventing your fear as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, lips pressed into your sensitive skin. Your pulse throttles ahead, a welp escaping your lips, and you freeze.

“Hey, EP, do ya want me to—” Lamar says opening the door all the way. Upon seeing the scene in front of him, he exclaims, “Oh, shit, sorry, sorry!”

“Jesus, Lamar! What have I told you ‘bout knockin’ before enterin’?!” Elvis growls, ceasing his barrage on your neck and lifting his head to glare at his friend.

You are flushing with embarrassment and confusion. But it only takes a moment for your addled brain to finally catch up to what is happening, and as to why Elvis deemed it appropriate to start necking you with no warning in front of his friend.

“I’m sorry, man, it won’t happen again! Go ahead and go back to…whatever y’all are doin’,” Lamar fumbles with a chuckle, then makes a hasty exit, the door sliding shut behind him.

The moment the latch clicks, you launch yourself out of Elvis’ lap, pushing him back as you do so. You have no doubt that not even your olive skin tone can hide the furious blush blotching your cheeks.

“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?!” you hiss at him indignantly, straightening your dress.

His voice comes out low and rumbling in a way you’ve not heard before. “Little bird, you cannot go tensing up like that every time I gotta kiss on ya. Makes it look like I was forcin’ myself on ya, and I can’t have that,” he says firmly, chastising you, his accent thick.

“Wh-what?” you sputter in disbelief. “You—you, there was no warning! How was I supposed to know what you were thinking as you…” you wave your arm at him, as though that is enough to express your jumbled thoughts, “…did whatever that was?”

Elvis rises from the edge of the bed, his eyes darkening with what you think is frustration. Your breath catches in your throat when he crosses the small space towards you, and you desperately want to counter by stepping backwards, but you force yourself to hold steady.

“I did what was necessary to hide that you are in fact my nurse and not my girlfriend.” He holds his arm, the blood pressure cuff dangling from it. “I didn’t have many options.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, your mind putting all the pieces together. It was clever, really, how he managed to conceal the cuff and all your medical supplies by the way he’d pulled you into his lap. You’re not so sure the kissing and the necking was entirely required, though he was trying to sell the ruse in the best way he knew how. No one was likely to question Elvis Presley kissing on a girl in his lap.

“I know I surprised you but being my girl in front of others is part of the job. And if you can’t do the job you were hired to do, there’s still time to get off this train,” he says, deadly serious, pointing to the door, those seemingly endless eyes never leaving yours.

“No!” you squeak. The fear pouring through your veins reminds you of the fact that Elvis holds your fate in his hands. You clear your throat before quickly following up, “No, I can…I can do it.” You force yourself to hold his gaze, to show him you are serious, too, because you cannot go back. You’ll do anything not to go back.

Elvis’ eyes search yours for a moment, and he nods. Then he looks over you almost quizzically, eyes softening.

That is when you realize you are shaking, badly. Frantically, you clasp your hands together behind your back, hiding as much as much as you can, willing your body to stop showing such weakness. You close your eyes, mortified at your behavior in front of the man you now work for. Because, as he made perfectly clear, this is your job.

Heart still pounding against your ribcage, you know the forced encounter on Elvis’ lap triggered a cascade of terror bottled up from your sickening experience with Gianni only a few days ago. Feelings you are usually able to compartmentalize are running rampant inside you and you feel upside down with fear that Elvis will unknowingly send you back into the viper’s nest you are desperate to escape.

A gentle finger under your chin lifts it, compelling your eyes up and open. Elvis’ oceanic eyes churn with concern and lock onto yours.

“I will never hurt you, Dolores,” he says, voice calm but firm.

The intuition behind his words startles you and flays you open. Your wounds are still far too fresh for this, which can be the only reason, you think, that your usual carefully walled-off exterior begins to crack.

Men have always hurt you. This one should be no different. The man is a consummate performer, a master of manipulating the masses. You have no reason to trust him, not yet.

Other than the fact that I hold his life and reputation in my hands, a quiet inner voice whispers.

But for the first time, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, it could be true.

It’s hard to look into his soulful eyes and not believe that he is good.

He holds you there a moment longer, then releases you. Your breath shudders out and you turn away quickly, swiping away the tears welling in your eyes with your still shaking hands. You force a deep breath, then another, composing yourself before you straighten and turn back to him.

Walls back up, you nod and point to the bed. “Settle, so I can take your blood pressure,” you order.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiles.

*

The more miles that are put between you and New York, the less constricted you start to feel, and that tension that Gianni or your father will magically appear and drag you back home starts to dissipate slightly. Watching the wintery landscapes race by out the window, you still can’t completely shake the feeling that danger is lurking around every corner though.

In this, you are incredibly grateful for the private coaches reserved for Elvis. It’s relieving that you don’t have to worry about Lamar or Vernon, or even the Colonel, a man you still don’t trust but you feel will not undermine you when he has nothing to gain by doing so.

Now that there is time to think, the hectic frenzy surrounding Elvis on pause for the moment, jumbled feelings about last couple of days creep up on you. After you’d quickly read and signed the Colonel’s contract, Lamar had driven you home mid-morning when you knew no one would be there to stop you from packing up your meager belongings.

You can’t help but wonder at your father’s reaction when you never came home from work, what he must have done when he found the letter you left on your dressing table, along with Gianni’s ridiculous engagement ring. The letter stated that you’d found a good job elsewhere and couldn’t in good conscience marry a man you didn’t love. There were no specifics—nothing about Elvis or even mentioning Tennessee. You figure it’s only a matter of time before someone gets wind through the press of where you’ve gone off to, but until then, you hope to put as much distance between you and your old life as possible.

Something tells you your room had probably been destroyed in a fit of rage.

You’d left notes and a little bit of money for your brothers in their rooms. There is an ache twisting in your heart that you didn’t get to tell them goodbye in person. You try not to be worried about them, as the twins are all but grown men and will protect Paul, if need be, though your father has never shown them the violence he’d aimed at you and your mother.

It’s unlikely anything will change for them anyway. After all, they’ve been groomed to serve in the famiglia since they were children. Tony is the only one who’d expressed a desire, other than you, to get out. But as much as it pains you to leave them, your little consolation is that the money might help if they wanted to go themselves. The guilt sits heavy in your stomach, but the need to survive pushes you forward regardless.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, little Lo’?” Elvis plops down next to you, throwing his arm over your shoulders to pull you close into his side. He surprises you out of your thoughts and you jump a little in your seat. You are grateful to see that he seems better now, his color returned and his breathing normal. Your immediate instinct is to shrink away from his touch, but Lamar is sitting across from you both, watching closely enough that Elvis pulls you back towards him and grips you in the way that reminds you of the façade your job entails.

You let him hold you close, forcing a tight-lipped smile in lieu of the grimace that attempts to grace your features. “Oh, just thinking about how I’ve never been this far away from New York before,” you say, thinking on your feet. “I suppose I’m a little nervous about it.” It’s not a lie, you think, and it might explain your anxious behavior to Lamar. But after “catching” you and Elvis earlier, you don’t think Lamar even considers another option for your presence.

*

As the day and a half train ride to Memphis drags on, Elvis’ restlessness is concerning. You’ve told him he needs to sleep, or at least lie down away from the others, but he brushes you off at every turn. It’s not as though you haven’t worked your share of 24-hour shifts, but you don’t feel like you can truly rest until Elvis does—and he seems to interrupt you with conversation or bursting into song any moment your eyes begin to drift closed—that and his insistence to make an appearance at every train stop and his bouncing nerves have you irritable.

You are more than a little curious at the fact that he seemed to rebound so quickly after getting on the train and somewhat concerned that perhaps there is something more at play than you are aware of. Something behavioral? Pharmaceutical? you wonder. Or maybe he’s just excited to be going home. But you don’t know Elvis well enough yet to go throwing accusations and assumptions around. It doesn’t stop your analytical mind from trying to solve the puzzle, however.

This, coupled with your worry of what you’ve gotten yourself into and the need to keep your exhaustion at bay, has you distracted, to say the least.

So, when the Colonel corners you in the hallway of the sleeper car, your guard is down and you are not quite as prepared as you might usually be.

“Young lady, you are gonna need to improve your attitude towards our boy or else no one is gonna be convinced as to why you are travelling home with him! You think we don’t notice that every time speaks to you, you roll your eyes and when he touches you, you jump away like a startled cat?” the Colonel hisses at you. Gone is the silver-tongued man sympathetic to the plight of you completely changing your life in an instant.

Your heart catches in your throat. You didn’t think you were being that obvious. “I-I’m sorry. I am working on it, sir. I’m just not used to his-his type of affections,” you say, hating that a sliver of your fear shows in your voice because you know a man like the Colonel will use your weakness to his advantage at some point or another.

“Well, I suggest you get used to it and quick, or else we’re all gonna be in a world of trouble.” The way he looks at you suggests it is you who will bear the brunt of that trouble and your eyes go wide. “Do you understand me?”

“Oh, I’m sure she understands ya just fine, Colonel,” Elvis’ drawling voice comes from behind. You both whip around to look at him. “Don’t ya worry about a thing. I’ll get her situated before Memphis.” He seems so calm and sure of himself that you almost believe it.

The Colonel looks from Elvis to you and back again before he nods. “I’m sure you will, my boy,” he says with a warm smile, his demeanor changing on a dime. Elvis just looks at him expectantly. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He shoots you a warning glance before heading back down the tiny corridor.

Once he’s gone, you close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, praying silently, Please, God, give me the patience and ability to do what needs to be done.

“Now, Little Bird, you need to come with me,” Elvis says, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the private compartment you share.

You jerk your hand out of his. “Elvis, you really need to get some rest before we reach Memphis, and so do I. You’ve been up for more than a day, and you can’t do that anymore, not in your condition. We can talk about everything else later,” you say, worn. You point to his bed as though that will be enough to mollify him while you try desperately not to think about the fact that your bed is in the same room as his.

He looks at you as though you’ve grown horns. “I ain’t sleepin’ right now, and no, this can’t wait till later cuz unfortunately, the Colonel is right. You’re as skittish as a cat and look like you want nothin’ to do with me, and everyone’s gonna get savvy to that real quick if we don’t fix it,” he says pointedly.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, your fatigue and insecurity gets the better of you. “And how exactly do you think we can fix this, Elvis? I’ve known you all of, what, three days? I’m not—I haven’t been the kind of girl who…” you trail off, stopping before you reveal too much of yourself.

He’s right, and you know it. You need to be better at this. You need to do better, for everyone’s sake. And you hate that you are the weakest link when you need to be strong. Elvis just looks at you expectantly.

Something finally snaps inside you. “I don’t know how to do this! I’m not an actress—I’m just a nurse! And I’m completely exhausted, a-and you—you! You’re like a little child who won’t go down for a nap, running yourself ragged, and you’re not making my job any easier!” you ramble into a shout, heart pounding and stomping your foot.

Silent, Elvis cocks his head at you, taking you in from head to toe. “Okay, then, you do this with me, and then I’ll try to sleep, no arguments.”

At this point, you’ll do almost anything to get the both of you some much needed rest. “Fine. But not just 30 minutes, Elvis. You need real sleep, and so do I, at least a couple of hours—no trying to get out of it to—to wave at fans.”  

He huffs. He knows you’ve caught him out, but finally, he relents. “Alright.”

“Good. Now what exactly do you want me to do to fix this?” you ask, trepidatious but relieved that sleep is in your near future. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Alright, so, I remembered something an experienced actor helped me with when my costar and I got real nervous about sharing our first on-screen kiss. We was all stiff and awkward cuz we didn’t really know each other and were both a little shy and had never done anything like that before, and I kinda liked her a little…anyways, it was real weird,” he bumbles out excitedly.

You have no idea where he’s going with this, but you’re already feeling heady with the exhaustion and nerves, your patience thin.

“I was thinkin’, well, this is like a brand-new acting job for you, right? You ain’t never done this before and you’re not comfortable with me yet, but we gotta get you there cuz we’re shooting the scene real soon, ya know what I mean?” His blue eyes are bright and excited, and you think that, yes, maybe what he’s saying is starting to make sense.

You nod slowly.

“See, all we need is some rehearsal. A way to get to know each other without everyone watchin’,” he says. His body does that thing you’ve noticed—the one where energy seems to pulse through him and he has to move. His leg is going a mile a minute. Part of you wonders if he, too, is nervous about whatever this plan of his is, and you’re not sure if that is comforting or not. For a man as worldly as you assume him to be, he shouldn’t be nervous with you, of all people. Not when he’s been with movie starlets and models.

“Little Lo’, you’re gonna have to trust me on this…can you do that for me?” he says, stepping in close to you.

You can’t help the way you counter his proximity by stepping back, your eyes narrowing. “I don’t know. What are we doing?”

Elvis looks at you with a raised brow, waiting.

“Fine. I-I guess I’ll try my best,” you finally relent.

“Okay, good,” he says softly, stepping into your space. “Now you’re gonna touch me, nice and slow.”

“Excuse me?” you yelp nearly falling backwards in your haste to move away from him.

“No! No, not like that! Maybe I didn’t phrase that so good,” he says a little bashfully, and the pink on his cheeks tells you he didn’t mean it quite the way you took it.

“What exactly did you mean, then?” You hold your breath waiting for his answer.

“Well, you do have to get used to me being in your space, honey, but I realize it’s always me pushing in on you. So, I want you to get used to being in my space, to get used to touching me before I try to touch you. But not like what you was thinkin’ before, just affectionate like,” he scrambles to explain.

You aren’t used to affectionate touches. Touch of any kind, unless it’s related to your work, is usually uninvited and without good intentions. But he’s right, this is your job now, and maybe thinking of it as such will help you. And he’s being kind and thoughtful enough to try and give you a modicum of control over this strange situation.

Your heart begins to race. “How—I mean, what should I do?” you ask hesitantly, not at all sure where to begin.

“Well, maybe start with my hands, since you’ve held them before?” he says, quietly, as though he doesn’t want to spook you. His eyes are open and honest, and nothing about him conveys aggressiveness.

I’m safe. He won’t hurt me, you chant in your head. This is just part of my job.

You take a deep, shuddering breath, stepping towards him.

“Okay.” It comes out of your mouth as a whisper. Reaching out for him, you start to take both of his larger hands in yours but stop abruptly.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” you blurt out self-consciously, “or even been on many dates. That’s part of the reason why I’m not used to being touched by, or—or touching, a man.” You don’t know why you say it, only that maybe it’ll be enough of an explanation of why you are just so bad at this.

Elvis’ eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Really? A pretty girl like you hasn’t had one boyfriend?”

A flash of heat blazes your face at his compliment, which you push away. You scoff instead, “No boyfriends, and I-I can count the number of dates on one hand.”

“Your family religious? Or you just have strict parents or somethin’?” he asks, nodding, as if he knows all about girls and their strict, religious parents. But you are quite sure he knows nothing about la famiglia or the kinds of fathers who make men disappear for a living.

“Or something…and I didn’t really have time to date in nursing school. But the one man I went out with a couple of times, the one my father approves of, well…he’s not a good man,” you say quietly. Wringing your hands, you look away.

It’s all the truth you are willing to provide for now, and only because you think if you are going to try and trust Elvis, he needs to have some idea of why this is hard for you.

You look back to find his azure eyes narrowed, processing through what you’ve said, maybe putting some pieces together of why you act the way you do. There’s something almost protective in them, which shocks you, and then his eyes fill with concern.

“O-okay, then. I-I-I’m glad you told me. I-It, uh, makes more sense w-why you’re not used to this kind of thing,” he stutters. “Just take it slow. Get comfortable w-with me. I-I w-w-won’t hurt you, I promise.”

He seems more nervous than you now, and somehow that makes you feel better approaching him. You reach for his hands again, and they feel warm against your perpetually cold ones. Taking a deep breath, you settle into the feeling of his skin against yours.

This is fine. I can do this. This is easier than cleaning bed pans, you encourage yourself, your heart still pounding in your ears.

But now you don’t know what to do next and you look at him with panicked eyes.

His response is to bring his hands up, gently lacing his fingers in between yours.

Oh. Oh. This is feels more intimate than it should, but your logical mind tells you this is precisely the point of this exercise, for you to get used to it now and then outwardly show that you like it later. It doesn’t stop the other part of you from wanting to bolt from the room, however.

I’m okay. He’s not going to hurt me. Every woman I know would be clamoring at this chance to touch Elvis Presley. I can do this. I will do this, your inner voice chants at you.

After a moment, in this awkward position, Elvis clears his throat. “Um, maybe up the arms now?” he suggests softly. “Almost like you’re blind, sort of, like you’re trying to map out what I look like.”

Nodding because this actually makes sense to you, you begin trailing your fingers and hands up his long arms over his shirt. As you reach his shoulders, you realize you’ve done something similar when you helped him dress at the hospital. A moment where you had control and felt it part of your job. That gives you some confidence, knowing that you’ve done this before and it was fine, so normal you’d barely even thought of it at the time.

But now, hands on his shoulders, you’re not sure where to go. Down his chest feels very intimate and up around his neck feels even worse. You are breathing too fast, and then you feel it near your wrist—a steady thrumming. His heartbeat.

You are trained to feel and listen to heartbeats, and this focuses you, ripping you from all the terrible ‘what if’s’ of the situation: what if he hurts me? what if I can’t do this? what if he sends me back? You drag your palms from his broad shoulders and down his clavicle, seeking that solid touchstone of life. Thump, thump, thump.

It’s beating slower than your own anxious heart but a little faster than you’d like it to be from a clinical perspective. But the moment you look up into his eyes, you remember, this is not for clinical purposes. And you realize it’s not likely that the blush on his cheeks and the racing of his heart is related to his illness, but more so the fact that a woman is touching him in such a way.

Blinking rapidly, you look away from his openly dreamy eyes, forcing yourself to home in on that pounding beneath your palm. You take a deep breath, then another, trying to sync your heart to his. It staves off that brewing panic, enough to keep pushing forward past your comfort zone.

You remind yourself that when you started nursing, it was similar. You had to push through the fear of potentially hurting someone, despite your good intentions, especially in the beginning when you hadn’t known what you were doing. You’d had to push yourself to clean up disgusting messes without gagging. There were so many things you’d had to get used to that at the start felt insurmountable. This was the same, you reason, you just had to push through your fears.

Really? You’re going to compare cleaning up blood and vomit to touching Elvis Presley? your inner voice chides you.

It seems awfully silly when you think of it like that.

And perhaps that is what forges you ahead and makes you bolder. You guide your hands down his chest, feeling the heat of him under your palms, the slight ridges of his ribs on his decidedly lean frame. Without looking in his eyes, you circle your arms around to his back and step in as close as you can. The embrace is tentative at first, and you feel the way his breath hitches in surprise. It is only a second of hesitation before he wraps his arms around you in turn.

It’s foreign, this feeling of being held. You suddenly realize that it has been since your mother died that anyone has hugged you, truly hugged you, for more than a moment at most. Breathing in a shaky breath, you are enveloped by Elvis’ unique scent—a masculine but subtle, warm smell that is a far cry from the heavy, suffocating colognes of the Italian men in your life.

You close your eyes, pressing your ear to his chest, that thump, thump, thump a comforting lull to your overactive nerves.

Elvis is achingly gentle, barely touching you at first, until he realizes you are not scurrying away in your usual manner. Then he holds you a little tighter, a little closer, if only to steady you in this unforeseen moment of vulnerability.

He just feels so solid and steadfast in a time when you are feeling completely unmoored. An unlikely anchor in the hurricane of the past few days. For a moment, you allow yourself this small comfort. You are not sure how long you stay like that, timing your breaths to the beat of his heart. Probably longer than what is proper. But you are quickly coming to accept that this situation is far from proper.

You finally bring yourself to pull back from the embrace, knowing there is more work to do here, more ways in which you must launch yourself into the uncomfortable.

Seems like you were quite comfortable holding him, and with him holding you, your inner voice coos.

This is part of the job. It’s not like that.

Mhmm.

Ignoring that, you’re not quite sure what to do next, only that you feel a strange mixture of relaxation weaving its way through your anxiety. Elvis’ hands rest lightly at your waist, making no moves one way or another, as if knowing it could frighten you away.

I won’t be frightened. He will not hurt me.

It feels truer now, though it doesn’t stop the flutter in your chest when you loop your hands back around and up his regally long neck. Oh, it feels too intimate, the way your trembling hands trace up his chiseled jaw, his stubble rough under your fingertips. You can’t look at him, you just can’t face those handsome bedroom eyes while touching him like this, opting for examining him blind like he’d suggested. Your fingers flit over his impossibly high cheekbones, up the perfectly straight edge of his nose, mapping him in your mind.

He's safe. He’s safe. I’m safe. The mantra repeats in your head.

Of their own accord, your fingers cart gently into his wonderfully thick, soft hair, up and through, and it’s then that you hear the sigh escape his lips, the one you now suspect was held back this whole time. It ratchets up your heart rate, not because of your fear of what he could do to you, but because the sound sends a tendril of warmth down your spine.

The instinctive part of you wants to yank your hands away, but you don’t. Instead, you lean into the fear. While your fingers run through his hair, your thumbs fall down his cheeks until you are cupping his long face in your hands.

This is the moment you decide to open your eyes and look up at him. His eyes are closed, the look on his beautiful face serene. You are in awe of how gentle and trusting he is, and maybe that’s why you impulsively move a thumb up and over the soft bow of his upper lip.

His sapphire eyes flutter open in surprise at that, sending a shockwave of heat through you. As he catches you in his otherworldly gaze, your thumb snags on the fullness of his lower lip, dragging it down and opening his mouth.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but the feel of his hot breath on your fingertip has butterflies brewing in your belly in a way you’ve never felt before. It’s like a terrifying freefall and you pull back, almost ashamed, like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Your first instinct is to run, but Elvis catches your wrist, his grip firm but gentle.

“It’s good,” he breathes. “You’re doing great, honey.”

The praise is genuine, and a shaky wave of pride rolls through you at being able to face your fears about this.

“Now it’s my turn, darlin’. We gotta get you used to the other way around,” he says quietly, as if knowing this part will be even harder for you. As if knowing that your heart begins to race even faster than before.

All you can do is nod. Keep going forward.

“Okay. I’m a very affectionate guy, Little Bird, and I’m gonna be real clear for you what I’m gonna do here,” he says, looking into your eyes in a seriously. “I’m fixin’ to act like I would with a girlfriend, but I ain’t out to molest you.”

You’re not exactly sure what he means to do, but you forge onward, trying to relax. “A-Alright.”

He’s still holding you by the wrist. “I’m gonna kiss your hand now.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach at the drawled words, and not from fear.

Then he is pressing those soft lips in an innocent gesture, first kissing the top of your hand, then the palm, then the inside of your wrist. It’s sweet, the way he does it, the way he checks in with you with his eyes after each peck.

You forget to breathe. You expected fear, the need to escape that which feels foreign or threatening, but you did not expect any part of you to enjoy this.

Running his hands up your arms, he reminds you of the obvious. “Breathe, honey,” he whispers.

You do. In. Out. In. Out. It gives you something to focus on as your mind goes blank.

“Gonna move down now,” he narrates. His hands move one of your arms, then the other, up over his shoulders and around his neck, as if you might start dancing. As if you might lean up to kiss him. Your heart knocks against your ribcage and you just know he can feel it as his hands splay slowly down your sides, fingers around your back, tracing your curves. Thankfully, he doesn’t touch your breasts, just brushes past them on the way down, but it sends shivers down to your toes regardless.

You feel utterly exposed, that familiar panic blooming amongst the unfamiliar feeling in your belly. Elvis seems to sense your tension and steps into you, embracing you once more. You feel that anchor again as his tall frame engulfs you. It should make you more uncomfortable, pressed up against him like this, but it doesn’t. Then, his left hand brings your right over his shoulder and holds it there, directly over his heart.

Thump, thump, thump.

Somehow he knows that steady rhythm calms you. He holds you there for as long as it takes for your breathing to level off, which is a while because you feel dizzy with the scent of him, the warmth of him, with the feeling of being touched in a way that doesn’t make you want to run for the hills.

You don’t understand these feelings. You should be afraid. Your history has taught you to be afraid of men. But for some strange reason, this near stranger, this idol to the masses, makes you feel safe and that scares you on a whole different level.

“Doing so well, Little Bird,” he says, pressing his forehead against your own. The pet name you loathed a few days ago sits differently with you now since you’ve come to understand that he has nicknames for everyone in his life, some that make sense only to him. It sits differently now that he’s holding you like this.

Oh, Madone, he is so close now. You force yourself to keep your eyes open, to remind you this is not the man who hurt you. That Elvis is nothing like Gianni.

It’s alright, I’m alright.

You do not expect this battle between fear and arousal in your body and your mind when Elvis whispers he’s going to kiss your face and then he does, carefully pressing into your forehead like you might break under his touch.

You do not expect to feel angry at the fact he’s showing you how men can be so unlike what you’ve experienced, that not every one of their gender is filled with hatred and violence.

And you certainly don’t expect the sigh that escapes your lips when he kisses your cheek, or when he then follows with light kisses down your jaw.

He freezes at that. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Y-yes. I’m fine. It’s, uh, fine,” you stammer out breathlessly, feeling the way his lips turn up slightly into a smile.

It’s an act. You are both playing a role. This is a rehearsal, you recite desperately in your head as your body flames with a nearly unbearable heat. And as his almost-too-gentle lips light little fires on your neck, you know that you shouldn’t like anything about this, and not just because it’s part of your new job. But your body bends to his will of its own accord.

Elvis pulls back slightly, his face hovering close to yours, and pauses. Your hands are fisted in his shirt and the only thing that cuts through the pregnant silence of the room is the near-panting of your collective breaths.

“I am going to kiss you now, Little Bird,” he says quietly, so close to you that you can feel the puffs of warm air from his mouth. His voice rumbles down deep into your belly, coiling there.

You can’t even begin to respond, because the way his words send shooting warmth blooming out from your chest seems to clamp off any ability to speak.

Then his warm hand cups your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek. He hardly has to move to reach your lips, and when he finally does, it is so chaste and tender you barely feel it.

You expect to freeze or flee, for your heart to be filled with icy, dark fear.

And yet…

And yet you don’t and it isn’t because it’s nothing like what you’ve experienced before. It’s not the clumsy teenage kiss on prom night. And it certainly isn’t anything like the harsh, horrible kisses Gianni subjected you to. No, this is soft and something else entirely, something you can’t piece through in this strange little moment.

You let him kiss you, giving in easily, and while you don’t know if you truly kiss him back, you don’t push him away.

Then it’s over. Elvis pulls away slowly. You look up at him, dazed, topsy-turvy from the multitude of feelings washing over you, all at once. For a second, you see what you think is a similar look stirring in his eyes.

But then it is gone, replaced with the neutral surety and confidence of a performer after the director yells cut.

“You’re a natural, baby! Didn’t even run away from me once!” he ribs you with a stunning, wide smile, then he turns more serious. “Did it help? Do you feel better, like you can do that in front of everyone else without jumpin’ out your skin?”

It takes you a moment to process what he’s saying. “I, uh, I’m not sure? I-I think so, maybe?” you finally manage to get out. You are honestly not sure about anything right now, the ghost of his lips still haunting on yours.

Elvis furrows his brow a little, unsure of your reaction. “Well, it’ll get better with practice, don’tcha worry, lil’ Lo’,” he says encouragingly.

Practice? This is going to happen again?

Of course. Because this is a rehearsal. This is part of your job. The part of your job that now involves kissing Elvis Presley and pretending to be his girlfriend.

Coming back into yourself, you try sliding your walls back into place, willing yourself to be professional and unphased. “I’m sure it will,” you nod, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “Now, time to rest. You promised,” you say, changing the subject and gesturing to his bed, praying your hand won’t shake.

He looks like he might try to fight you on it, but then seems to think better of it. “Fine. A deal’s a deal,” he shrugs, casually throwing himself onto his bed.

With a silent sigh of relief, you slip off your shoes and climb into your bed and under the covers on the other side of the room. There is no way you are undressing into your nightgown, not with Elvis just feet away, so this will have to do.

“At least a couple of hours,” you remind him before turning your back to him.

“Yes, ma’am, I hear you,” he grumbles.

Taking a deep breath, then another, you keep yourself from looking back over at Elvis. Despite your overwhelming fatigue, your body is buzzing like you’ve had one too many cups of coffee. You force your eyes closed, but you are hyperaware of the man being so close.

You’ve never slept in the same room as a man before.

It’s a day of all kinds of firsts, now isn’t it? you think sardonically.

You try to even out your breathing, the memory of Elvis’ steady heartbeat thundering in your ears. The spicy scent of him lingers on your skin. You can feel the way his solid warmth pressed against you in a comforting embrace. And all you can see behind your closed eyes is the how he looked right before he kissed you.

You think you may have liked it, liked all of it.

But it’s not real, you silly girl.

Praying for much needed rest, you bury your head in your pillow.

A sudden, stabbing guilt then slices its way into your heart as a hideous thought threatens to drown you:

What kind of woman am I if liked that so soon after Gianni hurt me?

It’s your father’s voice that answers…

Puttana. Whore.

Tears pour down your cheeks until sleep finally takes you.

*

Reblogs, likes, comments, tips + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy  @amiets2  @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals  

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch  @tattywood 

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva 

@fic-over-cannon @lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @godlypresley @bugg06 @xhannahbananax03 @artlover8992

@18lkpeters @frozenhuntress67 @girlblogger2002 @kendralavon7 @elvisgf @misspresley

#Broken Glass #Broken Glass Chapter 5 #elvis #elvis presley #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x oc #elvis fic #elvis fanfic #elvis presley imagine #elvis 1960 #post army elvis #missmaywemeetagain #madisyn may #💔🥂❤️‍🩹

[blues-valentine]

HSMTMTS: Ricky’s story arc as told by his songs. From I Think I Kinda You Know to Love You Forever (Part 2).

I’ve been thinking about how every song Ricky has performed on the show (my focus will be mostly on the original songs) tell us what his journey has been in the course of the show.

Ricky’s journey has been about changes and the future, leaving his childhood behind, how his parents relationship affects his own as well as the ability to be emotionally open. How he viewed love at the start of the show vs how he views love now. About new starts. About how happiness is a process and something he also needs to create for himself. And his songs reflect this journey very well. For this post. I'll focus on Season 1 and Season 2 for Part 1.

Read Part 1

As a continuation to my analysis on Ricky and the songs narrating his journey on the series. I mentioned how Season 2 closes part of Ricky’s arc with Second Chance. A song that in Ricky’s side talks about moving on after a relationship ends (Nini) and finding new beginnings. He also finishes the season saying he isn’t sure of who he is yet but it’s getting towards happiness. He had understood to an extent a lot of things and how he reacted to them wasn’t healthy for himself and those people in his life. Season 3 opens a new chapter for Ricky to start again but as an improved version of himself. It is his “second chance” in all capacities, which is why I said (x) Season 3 feels like a new start and by putting Ricky in similar situations but having him deal with it differently will show how much he has grown from his past mistakes and fears.

And before we start we have to mention the Lily story line. I think it was clearly a plot device to get to some realization. Ricky thought Lily was a good person that just needed some friends. And he saw an opportunity for something new. But the storyline simply fell flat and it made it seem like an useless rebound instead of giving Ricky (and the audience) a satisfactory arc. She was a copy of Gina 1.0 and I believe Ricky was trying to see Gina in her, and a lot of their parallels (x) feel intentional. And we know by now nothing about Rina is done carelessly. I remember Tim Federle’s interview for the finale saying Ricky is sometimes too naive for his own good. And I am sure the story line was going to make sense but as confirmed by Tim himself a lot of the things in Season 2 were rushed and the finale was rewritten (it was originally going to feature a lot of flashbacks) but the safety precautions due to covid changed those plans. Regardless, I am glad that arc got removed. Lily wasn’t an interesting character and I didn’t want her to take space from other characters. Now, with that out of the way, let’s move on.

Ricky opens this season as well as being given the first song of the season: Finally Free. This song really expands on Second Chance and tell us where Ricky’s mindset is before going to camp: embracing new starts, not going back to the old ways he used to handle all his feelings.

Some important parts: “Give me empty pages, just give me something new” Season 1 Ricky would’ve never wished for something like this. “Breakin' away from the broken hearts (Nini). No more mistakes, no more empty starts (Lily). I'm finally, finally free, finally, finally”. He follows with “Buildin' out from the bottom. Now there's no way to go but up” meaning he has to rebuild himself again. And another one that is important is: “And I'm going down a road that I don’t know. Yeah, I let it take me anywhere but home”. This takes us back to him calling Nini home (at his childhood home) on Season 2 in a matter that felt like attachment to his childhood (and old times) so this references him not going back to that unhealthy mindset.

In a way, all the events that happened lead for Ricky to have this realization. This is the Ricky that could’ve been ready to be with Gina. But Season 1 and Season 2 Ricky wasn’t ready for that and was denying it, when he allows himself to not be afraid of changes, his feelings take a whole new perspective. This is why he is able to understand his feelings for Gina were always deeper than he allowed himself to admit before. And very fitting with the theme, Ricky and Gina vow to just “start over” with their relationship. This season is not just about Ricky rebuilding himself but his relationship with Gina as well.

This season doesn’t have as many solo songs due to the limited episodes, but did a good job in paralleling the overall arc with the roles they were playing for the musical, especially with the “love triangle” (x). Gina represents Anna’s naive perspective on love due to EJ being her first relationship so a lot of her interactions with him felt very rose colored and passive (x). I did said before EJ isn’t exactly Hans but they drew a lot of intentional parallels between them, such as Gina not knowing EJ’s real name (and that line being in the WDYKAL duet about Hans). Ricky representing Kristoff in a way that he is also learning a new way to love someone. Plus, them having Gina and EJ dress like the actual characters in a dream like sequence was very much in the nose about those references.

In this season, Ricky is starting to discover the intensity of his feelings for Gina but he handles it very differently from Season 1. He isn’t trying to cross lines but remaining respectful of her relationship with EJ. I already spoke about how this is an intentional contrast to showcase Ricky’s growth (x). From trying to help both of them, from apologizing to Gina when he feels like his feelings might’ve been too obvious. To selflessly be there for Gina, because he is now discovering love isn’t selfish or has some gain. Love is about sacrifice, sometimes putting the person you love first despite what might come.

Now, here it comes Ricky and Gina’s first duet: What Do You Know About Love. It seems fitting for them because in a way, it reflects how they perceive love at that moment. In the song Anna has a very rose colored perception of love. She thinks it’s worth it even when they clearly aren’t on the same page and she’s idealizing it, and for Kristoff, love isn’t easy, and it requieres a lot of commitment. Ricky and Gina’s version is a lot more flirtier than the Broadway version, but the question “what do you know about love?” is what they ultimately learn from each other.

In the following episodes, Ricky helps Gina plan her promposal to EJ, despite his own feelings. I saw someone saying that a lot of Gina’s season 2 heartbreak was about thinking it was never going to be between her and Ricky. And a lot of Ricky’s heartbreak on Season 3 comes from regret, from letting Gina walk away, from letting something great slip through his fingers. At this point, he can’t turn back time but it’s willing to be there for her in any capacity Gina allows him to be. In the 60’s prom episode, Ricky could’ve told her what he feels for her but realized that it would be selfish to do this to Gina when she’s harboring her own heartbreak. His own growth has been great to watch throughout Season 3.

I also love how Ricky’s sub-plot involving the bucket list he wrote when he was a child of things to do before turning 18 is a metaphor to leaving his childhood and entering adulthood. I already spoke (x) how Nini being the person to help him complete his very last item represents how Nini was his childhood and him only ever getting with Gina when that transition has been done is very important for him as a character.

And this isn’t a Ricky solo, but I just love how this moment and this lyrics are used exactly for this scene because this is the moment Gina realizes it’s always going to be Ricky and what also makes her realize that she isn’t getting the love she deserves or wants for herself with EJ.

As all of us theorized, with WDYKAL, Ricky was going to sing “Kristoff’s Lullaby” because is a direct response to the duet. And he did. This is probably his most important solo song from the season because it puts into words what he feels for Gina and how much she has changed what he thinks about love. I’ve explained this before. (x) Gina has represented change from the very moment she came in (and she was described as such multiple times). She was new, different, and represented the changes Ricky was afraid of. But what they didn’t know is that they are able to give each other what the other needs. Gina made him put into perceptive the idea that he can move forward, that he can deal with his life falling into different directions. Gina has made him understand that he can and will be ready for when changes knock at his door because loving her isn’t about holding back.

Important parts from the song are: “You light the world for me. You live life fearlessly, braver than the bravest of us do. You trust, you hope, you dare. You choose to feel and care. I thought that I was strong 'til I bumped into you” I think this is the perfect way to describe Gina’s effect on Ricky’s life and how brave Gina has been about her feelings for Ricky despite her fear about forming attachments. And I’ve always said “Everything I thought I did. You've gone and changed it, kid. You're what I know about love.” is really the climax of the song and by Ricky singing this directly to Gina (while Nini is also on the audience) is makes a full circle. (x)

This season, Ricky learned to love theater and commit to it, not just because he enjoys it but because he wanted Gina to shine. He created a good friendship with the group, as opposed to Season 2, where he was disconnected to the drama club he now has his own space within. He called himself “a theater guy” and was able to guide Jet towards it. He knew Jet had to find a place to help him cope with his home life and Ricky’s arc comes to a sweet full circle for this.

Ricky ends the season in such a good place. He has grown a lot and allowed things to just be. I like the fact he remained respectful of Gina, even when his feelings were quiet obvious. And I spoke about how important it is that their relationship started by Gina setting her own boundaries. She needed to set the lines and be like “I have feelings for you but I am also okay if it doesn’t happen between us” because a lot of Gina’s journey on Season 3 was about coming into herself and discovering her expectations in a relationship. Her telling him what she feels for him but not allowing it to weight her down and it being a parallel to 206 was also intentional. It was also important for Ricky. He needed that reassurance and initiative to finally give it his all. As he proves on Season 4, he knows and now learned his lesson. He is committed to not mess things up with her. He is committed to improve.

Season 3 ends with Ricky and Gina’s right time. Both on the same page. It was important for them to experience all of that individual journey to get together in a romantic relationship that can be fulfilling and healthy for them both.

Season 4 starts the season with Ricky and Gina in a very happy relationship. You can see that Ricky is motivated to share things with her and do things for them as a couple. A lot of Ricky and Gina’s relationship works because they embrace each other’s personalities and love languages. Gina encourages and reciprocates Ricky’s dorky behavior. As I said, she doesn’t feel suffocated by it like Nini (x) but she wants that level of commitemment and gestures.

At the start of the season, Ricky and Gina are keeping their relationship a secret because Gina is worried about the negative comments from people (mostly her mom) and she doesn’t want the bubble they’ve built together to crash. It’s understandable that we know how controlling her mom is. Ricky agrees despite his own fears. In the first episodes, we can see that a lot is changing for Gina in a way that might take her away from Ricky. This is an opportunity for him to be tested by old insecurities but make it right and not going back to his old tendencies. So, instead of trying to hold Gina back and wishing for the opportunities to disappear, he is happy, encouraging and supportive despite the odds. This thing is reflected in their very first original duet and song of the season: Maybe This Time.

It’s a song about hoping this is the right time for them to get it right after all of the missed opportunities between them and their old relationships. They’re finally in a place where they can be together but as foreshadowing for the season a lot of things are going to change and threaten the stable place they’ve created. But not matter what the future holds they promise to be together and enjoy the ride instead of trying to control the uncertain future.

Part of the lyrics: “Maybe this time is all that we get but we've still got lots to figure out. I’d love to control what happens next I'll give you my all right now. Don't look back, just pull me closer. Hands up on this rollercoaster”. I explained (x) but having Ricky and Gina deal with similar experiences in their past relationships is to not just show how much they’ve grown and learned but also to show how committed they are to be together and be with each other as a team.

In 403, Ricky experiences a bit of insecurities over Mack but despite that he prepares a date with Gina and also apologizes for the comment he made where he sort of dismissed the impact Mack’s show had on Gina’s childhood. It might have been silly but I think it shows Ricky’s self awareness and that he takes seriously all of the things that make Gina happy. In the following episodes, Ricky tries to be supportive of Gina’s life changing opportunities and trying to find a way to make it easier for her to handle both the musical and the movie, but it starts getting a bit too overwhelming and when he finds out Gina hasn’t told her mom about them, it awakens his insecurities. This is where Speak Out comes. Although it is supposed to be for EJ to also speak about his fears, it’s about how Ricky hasn’t said some things out loud, how his mom abandonment issues have created a lot of fears into his life and has made him feel like he isn’t enough of a reason for someone to stay.

Part of the lyrics are: “I'm so sick of my past breakin' me like glass shackled by my emotion.” (…) “Don't wanna walk away from this. Don't wanna be a sinkin' ship. The anchor on my tongue won't let me swim. Don't wanna waste a moment more. Don't know what I've been waitin' for. I'll never get a chance like this again.”

I think this moment was an outlet for Ricky to speak about things that are the root of his insecurities. How his mom decided she wanted a new life in a new city and left Ricky. How Nini didn’t think Ricky was enough for her and even how emotionally difficult it must’ve been for him to hear The Rose song and how Ricky’s entire attempts makes her feel trapped. The reason Ricky was running away is because he thought Gina was also going to leave him for bigger and better things and didn’t want to anticipate it. He never thought he is enough of a reason to stay because frankly, no one had really taken Ricky seriously or believed in his potential, except for Miss Jenn and Gina.

After that much needed conversation with EJ, Ricky goes to see Gina only to see her with Mack. I feel like in Ricky’s mind, he feels like she decided and he’s nothing compared to him. Luckily, Gina sees him and runs after him and tells him she has told his mom about them. I feel like people don’t understand that since a lot of Ricky’s fears have to do with him feeling like he isn’t good enough to be a secure option he doesn’t except people to actually chose him. In his relationship with Gina, he puts efforts but so does Gina for him. She wants him in her life and in her dreams. He isn’t an obstacle or stops her from achieving those dreams, he’s always been a motivation for Gina to pursue them.

In the last episodes, there’s still so many things Ricky has to address, not just about Gina but his college plans and their future. At this point, he has convinced himself that Gina most likely will go to chase her dreams and that it doesn’t involve him. He learned his lesson before, he told Nini he wanted her to stay only for that to be reasonably met with distaste. But the thing is, all of Ricky’s gestures where always meant to be received by Gina, who wants to be asked to stay. I explained this before. Had Ricky asked Gina to stay, she would have done it. But I love how she didn’t have to chose between her need for stability and her wants to be successful.

407 is great at paralleling Troy and Gabriela’s dilemma with Ricky and Gina’s very own issues. “Scream” comes at the moment Ricky is torn between letting Gina go and his unclear future. He feels time is running out. Later, we have them singing Right Here Right Now, a song about how the future is coming soon and they should make every second last. In a way, it also parallels Maybe This Time but less hopeful.

And as an expectacular full circle moment, Ricky says in his speech how thankful he is about the drama club changing his life and getting him through a hard situation. As of Season 1, Ricky came in being a cynical skate rat that didn’t seem to have many friends and was pessimist about love. It didn’t seem like he had hobbies or prospects outside of skating. He had a very troubling home life and dealing with a lot of anxiety. His relationship with Nini was in the verge of ending like his parents relationship and so were his last remainders of childhood. He had to let go of things that were holding him back and accepting of changes and by the end of Season 4 we have seen Ricky become a man in so many ways. He basically let his childhood go by the end of Season 3. And this final season was about him asking questions about his own future and how that would look like for him.

And we are finally here with “Love You, Forever”. The last song Ricky Bowen ever sings on the show and how perfect of a full circle moment it is for his growth. It starts and it ends in the same place: the auditorium. Just in very different situations and a whole new Ricky.

He starts Season 1 singing “I Think I Kinda You Know” to Nini but being unable to say I love you to her face or in front of people. Mostly because his own insecurities involving his parents and how he wasn’t secure enough. I also said that when he finally did say I love you, it was still swimming in his fears of attachment and his parents divorce. It was a confession that felt like desperation to hold onto something steady and safe. And he does say this with “not net, not fear, right here in this moment”. But now, Ricky sings Love You Forever to Gina, and this time very clearly saying the words “I am in love” and “I love you” to her face and in front of his friends (and the world). He say it because he not longer associates love with something scary and that’s also thanks to Gina. He isn’t saying it to Gina to make her stay either. He is saying it because he feels it. He doesn’t know what the future holds (at that point he didn’t even know Gina changed the movie location to SLC) but he loves her and he isn’t afraid of saying it despite the unknown circumstances.

The lyrics says it all: “I been wishin' on a fallin' star for too long. I been runnin', I don't know what from but you and I've become a sacred kinda home. I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love and I know it. No net, no fear right here in this moment. I've never been more sure of what I got, yeah. Cause this is so much more than puppy love, so. I'll say it first, no matter what the cost. Here I am, full heart, full stop. I love you” and one important lyric that didn’t make it to the show but is in the full version: “I never knew that I could feel so sure and so strong how can three old words feel so brand new? Ooh, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love and I know it. Mm, so rare, so real right here in this moment. I've never been more sure of what I got. And I'm starin' at the only thing I want, so” because as I said, it’s not just about him saying I love you to Gina and being sure about it but to tell his parents and his friends. Gina’s love has made Ricky so much more emotionally open.

I would describe Ricky’s journey like this:

Season 1: Attachement, fear of changes and sticking to the status quo. Season 2: Denial, isolation, reconning and letting go. Season 3: embracing new beginnings, self improvement and passage to adulthood. Season 4: Growing, learning and embracing the future.

Ricky’s arc has always been incredible because it’s something that took time and effort. Ricky’s arc wasn’t a 180 of one season, it came with ups and downs until he finally managed to do it right not just for himself but for those he loves.

#hsmtmts #high school musical the musical the series #gina porter #ricky bowen #ricky x gina #rina #hsmtmts season 4 #hsmtmts s4 #hsmtmts rina #text post #meta #hsmtmts meta

[anamenooneowns]

A Creepy Fanfic: The Big Dick.

A/n: This is a fanfic to indulge my inner pre-teens creepypasta phase (which was never really a phase🥀⛓️🖤🤘🏽😔) also, the woman above is not a face claim and you're a spirit entity thing. i'm obviously making up shit bc it sounds cool in my head. so yeah. enjoy.

warnings: Cursing. Death/dead people. Gore? sorta. Horrible jokes bc i think i'm hilarious. No use of y/n. Use of religion to bully another. Bullying. Sex (use condoms pls). Spanking. Name-calling (bitch and cunt). Rough sex. I think thats all... if I missed something lemme know🙂

pairing: ticci toby x you

Water was still when it was untouched. The water in Lake Black has been still since the death of that poor girl–it was so sudden, so awful–awful how everyone in that bumfuck town pretended they had nothing to do with her death. (♱) didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t her fault that her mother was sick, that her mind was broken since the terrible death of her husband, (♱)’s father. 

The witches of Black Falls is what they called her and her mother. Rolling their eyes back and pretending to spasm whenever she passed them in school hallways and in public, reciting prayers in their Religion class to ‘ward’ her away, refusing her food in line at the church when she and her mother had been hungry–starving.

But no longer. A dead girl didn’t need to eat after all, right?

Wrong. Because (♱) was hungry. Starved. Ravenous with a need to sink her teeth into the rotting meat that was this town. A stain is what it was. All heretics.

A head split the still waters of Lake Black. Jet-black hair plastered to brown skin, droplets of water clung to her hairline before rolling down, connecting and parting over and again as she continued to rise. The fog that had settled over the water billowed around her body, rising with her slowly, the currents below swirling angrily and bubbled with the white-hot, scalding, burning anger of a woman scorned. 

Eyes, white–having lost their iris and pupil–were all sclera and thin, red veins. When her pale blue lips kissed fresh air after having been lost to the bottom of Hell for so long a hiss escaped them. The water relinquished its hold on her as she continued to rise into the embrace of the moon on this beautiful night. The only companion she’s ever had her entire life.

The woman in the moon. Her daddy would make up stories about it. How she had been cast away into the stars for bringing darkness…darkness associated with anything bad. Yet, she was so warm right now. Anything would be considered warm compared to (♱)’s cold body. Undead.

She was going to eat this fucking town. And everyone in it, alive. 

Drenched, scuffed sneakers dragged along the asphalt of the street. (♱)’s only goal was to reach the only person here who mattered: her mommy. Each step she took in line with a house on the block set it ablaze, screaming long having made its symphony in the night as they all burned alive. Skin shrinking and fat rendering–it was all so delicious. Her body absorbed it like she was eating, the wounds of her body fading as she gained more… ‘life’ into her.

And when she reached that house, the door opening for her before she could touch it, the sight ran flashbacks through her mind when she was still alive. Out of the mudroom, the stairs to your left in the hallway, up the stairs, the first door to your right was her mother’s room. The door creaked open and there her mommy lay. (♱) neared her and laid on the bed, wrapping her wet, slimy arms around her before weeping softly. 

Because her mother was dead. A pill bottle in her hands, and her body cold, but smiling. To think she was ready to leave this place and be with her husband and daughter again, but (♱)’s soul knew where it belonged, and after tonight–it was destined to one place only.

“You shouldn’t be alive.”

Silence.

“I… know,” (♱) croaked. “But I am.”

“So you are,” they affirmed. “You’re gonna stir a lot of shit, but, you don’t know the rules yet so The Operator is letting you off the hook, but you need to come with me. Come with us, and learn.”

“If-if I don’t?”

Something cold pressed against her throat. It was sharp. “You die here, and your soul is sent straight to Hell where it belongs.”

(♱) didn’t care that the blade has sliced into her neck a bit. “I don’t believe in Hell. I don’t think I ever did.”

“All the more reason to come with us then. None of us believe in it much either,” they moved the sharp blade. 

She sat up slowly and looked at them. It was a man. He had shaggy brown hair, light brown eyes, and skin as pale as the moon. Looking back at her mother, she leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before standing. “Okay,” she agreed.

A black tar-like substance webbed across the ceiling of the room before lighting up, fire licking away at the interior of the once warm home. It was the end of her old life, and the start of another.

“Y’know, I hate when you do this shit,” Toby grumbled. “It ain’t playin’ fair.”

“Playing fair? That’s for losers, baby,” (♱)’s voice echoed like a purr in his mind, the exact way she’d voice her words if she was in fucking front of him and not hiding.

“Callin’ me a loser, little girl?” he huffed, cutting down the greenery blocking his way.

His eyes flitted around the clearing as he looked for (♱). Ever since she joined them and fell into step quickly with the whole undead thing and learning the extent of her abilities-and them falling in love yada, yada, ya-she was the prettiest damn nuisance he’s ever experienced in his life.

Her laughter echoed from the crows above on the gnarled trees. He growled and huffed out a deep breath from his nose-

“Are you?” A boline knife shaved a bit of his five o’clock shadow. (♱) tilted her head at Toby and smiled, black lips parting to reveal pearly whites at her man. “Loser,” she whispered.

Toby chuckled and pulled his goggles up to rest on his head, brown eyes slicing over to her from the corner of his eye. “Alright, mama… you got me. Training over.”

He turned to her and pulled down his mask, revealing his own smile. A vicious scar ran jaggedly from the left corner of his mouth into a permanent sneer. A half-glasgow as (♱) would tease, a running joke after she had said it to hurt him during a particularly nasty argument. The skin there was taut and deformed, the flesh puckered and a whitish-pink, healed but forever marred. With his skin ripped and pulled back, teeth–which were slightly yellower on this side but just as straight as the rest of the teeth in his mouth–were on permanent display.

(♱) leaned up on the balls of her feet and pecked his lips. “What’s my reward?”

Toby raised an eyebrow and snorted. “You’re jokin’, right? This is part of the job description, sweetness.”

“So? Don’t I deserve a.. I dunno, a fuckin’ blowjob or something?” (♱) huffed. 

Toby’s eyes widened. “Babe, what the fuck are you-”

“Look, after how I just fucked you in the ass with that win, I’d say I have a pretty-” (♱) squealed as Toby picked her up and threw her over his broad shoulder-“big dick!”

“Big dick, huh? I’m gonna show you a big dick, little girl, always runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth,” he smacked her ass sharply and then her thigh.

Toby walked toward their cabin, passing Tim and Jeff–Jeff whistling at the sliver of the bottom of (♱)’s ass on display from her ridden-up shorts because, of course–cursing a “Fuck!” when Toby cracked him on the back of the head with the stick of his axe. “You may not be able to close your eyes you lidless fuck, but watch it unless you want me to pluck them out for (♱) to use in her witchy shit.”

(♱)  giggled, kicking her legs lazily and waving at the two other men. “Bye, Tim! Fuck you, Jeff.”

In their cabin, which was in a more secluded section of The Operator’s woods, Toby kicked the door open and shut it behind them. “So fuckin’ cocky and thinkin’ you can talk to me however, babe-” he dumped her onto the bed and (♱) giggled, biting her lip as she rolled onto her belly, Toby grabbing her throat and lifting her head to force her into an arch. His eyes looked into her own, seemingly sightless without an iris or pupil, but he knew she could see.

“Then what’re you gonna do about it?” she hissed.

His permanent sneer stretched.

(♱) bobbed her head with a voracious need for the mouth-ripping burn of swallowing down Toby’s dick, a thick oozing string of saliva filled with bubbles and mixed with pre-cum drooling onto her chest and the bed. (♱) was still on her belly on their bed while he stood up above her, a big and pale tatted hand clamped around her neck, rough fingertips digging into the joint connecting her skull and jaw to force her mouth open. Her clothes were sliced off with her own weapon, courtesy of her boyfriend, the bastard.

Those gorgeous white eyes, not as soulless as one would think, looked up at him.

And then there was the rough scrape of enamel against flesh. “Fucking- oh, you litte cunt,” he hooked his fingers over her bottom teeth and pulled her jaw down as far as he could before pistoning his hips forward. A wet gurgle came from her throat as (♱)’s gag reflex was triggered, her nose buried into his pubic hair where the pungent smell of sweat from training had become stale. (♱) gagged and choked, tears rolling down her brown cheeks as her nose burned, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his shaft with each thrust of his strong hips.

And she loved it. God, hearts would be fucking floating around in her pupils if she had any.

“God- you’re fucking disgusting,” Toby laughed dryly. “Bet that pretty pussy is all wet just from suckin’ cock, right, mama?”

(♱) moaned around his length and he finally pulled out of her mouth, smirking as she panted-and also because she let his cock rest against the fold between her cheekbone and nose. “Huh? What was that?” he asked.

“I said… I-I alr..already told you I have a big dick,” (♱) panted with the most impish fucking smile.

Toby let his head fall, shoulders rising and falling in short intervals. He was laughing. “Alright, bitch-” he grabbed a handful of thick curls and (♱) whimpered as he pulled her up to her knees and then used both hands, tucking them between the back of her thighs and calves to pull her forward, making her bounce onto her back. With the wind knocked out of her, Toby was already pushing his turgid cock into her, the pierced head of his length breaching her first, cold and shocking.

(♱)’s hands pressed against his lower abdomen and he snatched her wrists together in one hand and held them in front of him as he fucked her, smirking as the sight of her back arching away from the bed and her hips canting forward, making a bridge. “T-Toby, oh my… fuck!” she whined, breathily. “Sho… big,” she slurred.

“Nah, that doesn’t sound like what I was just hearin’ sweetness. Fuckin’ say it. Who has a big dick again?”

“Y-you-”

He leaned down to her face, head turned so his warm breaths were spread over her ear and neck. “I can’t. Fucking. Hear you,” he snarled.

“You, baby- on…only you!” (♱) wailed.

“Good girl,” Toby licked up the side of her neck, her sweat making his salivary glands sting. He let go of her wrists and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, whining and pursing her lips which he responded to. His lips pressed against hers, tongues sliding against each other as they kissed, suckling and smacking. He pulled away the ripped side of his mouth making divots where the puckered flesh connected to normal skin, he was smiling. “Yeah, there we go… can’t even get a word out.”

(♱)’s eyes were lidded, the muscles of her neck loose as her head fell back onto the mattress. Just babbling quietly, legs crooked at the knee and splayed open, cradling his body between them. Her cunt gripped him tightly, small spurts of cream coating his cock in a thin sheen as he buried himself inside of her warmth over and again. “T-Toby,” she whined.

“Shh, I know, mama–m’gonna take you there,” he panted. His thumb strummed over her clit, his hips stuttering every time she clenched too tight around him, jaw falling open so his ragged breaths could fall from his lips. His free hand wrapped around her throat and she bit her lip and he could tell she was looking at him, straight into his eyes.

It felt like electricity crackling through her nervous system, each shock waking her up but the lack of proper oxygen flow making her dizzy and hazy.

Toby’s balls, heavy and tight–churning with cum–pulled upward, the seam of his sac making the separation of each ball prominent. (♱) sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth that developed into a groan as she was right there. Right… there!

White-hot heat coiled and burst in (♱)’s belly, lava overflowing and extending through her body as her toes curled and her muscles contracted and trembled. Toby pressed her thighs against her chest, her pussy squeezing around him so tight that it forced him out of her, her squirt sluicing over him while he humped himself to completion between the chubby folds of her sweet cunt. His cockhead dipped between her pressed together thighs until it was jumping and twitching, thick ribbons of cum streaming over her plump lips, dripping down her brown skin.

He sighed, grabbing his shaft and running it up and down the seam of her pussy until she whined. “Alright, alright, m’done,” he chuckled.

“R-remind… remind me to p-piss you off-” she lifted her head and smirked at him- “more often.” Toby leaned down on the bed, the muscles of his back shifting and rippling. “Sweetness, you can piss me off as much as you want as long as you remember one thing at the end of the day: I’m the one with the big dick in this relationship.”

#x black fem reader #x black reader #creepy #creepypasta #platonic #fulfilling my inner child #hope you liked it i dont know if it should be a series #it prolly should be to make sense of everything happening but whatever

[toomanyfandomsimfanvergent]

Tobias x reader

**

@naishaaaaa helped me with the plot for this fic, enjoy.

Taglist: @asiludida164

**

It was the middle of the day. Yn had been swamped in work. Since defeating Jeanine and helping the tris take down the burea, yn and Tobias had gone back to dauntless.

Tobias stuck to training iniates, yn however. That was a different story.

Yn started sending reports into the burea about how the 'factions' we're doing, (you got to choose a faction or living beyond the gate), she also helped Tobias with iniates, and she gave a lot of private lessons.

Tobias started feeling, feverish and his throat was throbbing, and itchy. He didn't want to bother yn, she already was extremely overwlemed.

He finished training and went to bed early.

Yn walks into their shared apartment at 1am, an initiate couldn't get the hang of his right hook. She was bruised and ready for more work. She still has a few hours of reports to fill out.

She notices Tobias snoring on the bed. His delicate figure, so peaceful, his chest slowly rising and falling.

Yn gave him a kiss on the forehead, "love you baby," she whispered.

Walking over to the living room, she sits on the couch facing Tobias. She starts on filing reports, and answering emails from other factions regarding some ridiculous government thing, she was not even qualified for.

**

At a quarter past three, Y/N is working feverously. She hears Tobias break into a coughing fit in his sleep.

She rushes to his side, "Tobias," she pulls him into a sitting position he continues coughing. She rushes to grab a glass of water. She starts patting his back, handing him the water when he stops coughing, "hey, hey what happened? I'm right her sweetheart," she coos, soothingly rubbing his back.

"I feel like shit," he groans, leaning his head on her shoulder.

She takes the glass and sets it down, "you need meds," she starts, he opens his mouth to protest but she quickly cuts him off, "fucking bullshit, if you don't want me taking you to the infirmary I will be getting you medicine,"

He knows better than to argue with her. After having a shitty and abusive home life. Yn was very protective of her family. If she cared about you, there was nothing she wouldn't do. She backed up Tobias and comforted him after he beat up Marcus, and after yn confronted her own father and sent him to the infirmary, getting them kicked out of amity, he held her while she cried.

Yn quickly returns with various bottles.

"okay, toby what hurts," she asks, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"My throat is sore, my head hurts, I'm sore, and feel ....weird," he rambles. It had taken him getting sick twice for him to let her take control.

"okay take this," she says handing him water and an array of pills.

He does, "I'll sleep on the couch so,-"

"I don't get sick I'm divergent," she smirks.

He groans.

"okay fine, but really I don't get sick from colds and stuff, often at least," she mumbles, spooning him.

"m'sorry I love you," he mumbles into your neck.

"hey, Im here for you, baby," she coos kissing his head as he drifts into a peaceful slumber. She admires how peaceful he looks whilst sleeping.

The way his chest rises and falls. His lips slightly parted, at peace, as he, out of habit, lays on his stomach. He is perfect. He is hers. And she is his. She lays on her stomach to, resting a hand on his shoulder.

*bonus flashback*

"You fucking piece of shit ," Marcus yells, hitting Tobias across the back with the belt screaming insults.

*

"yn," her father screams, drunk.

He finds her and shoves her into the wall, he throws a beer bottle at her.

"please stop," she chokes out before her head gets fuzzy.

As he strikes her across the back with a broken glass bottle, her vision dots black.

One more hit and everything is warm and dark, fuzzy.

**

Give me more request plz

#Tobias #tobias eaton imagine #eddie munson angst #tobias eaton #tobias eaton headcanon #tobias eaton smut #tobias eaton x reader #Sick Tobias #Divergent #Tobias blurb #Tobias four #Eaton #Four x reader #four x reader #Tobias x reader #Tobias Eaton fanfic

[icannotreadcursive]

Last Line Game

Taking up the open tag by @non-un-topo because I'm working on about a million things and want to share but have nothing ready to post and this is an excellent excuse!

So y'all get last lines from multiple WIPs.

TriStamp fic:

She whapped him in the face with the pillow. “I kissed you first, bozo!” “Yeah, okay, good point.” Vash took a deep breath. “More than a little thrown for a loop by that, actually.” With a roll of her eyes she leaned down to kiss him again. His fingers found their way back into her hair.

Star Trek fic:

As soon as the shuttles touched down and the hatches opened, the hoard of cadets spilled out like gumballs from broken machine and went running for the waterline, tossing off coverups and kicking up flipflops as they went. Their chaperones followed in a rather more subdued manner.

To Tell the Truth (main Brokeback fic):

Ennis chewed his tongue a moment, shook his head, let out a breath a smoke. “Look….” he said slowly. “I know you an' Jack...had some kind of a spat or something, when you 'n him went fishin' whenever that was, but, far as I've heard from him, two a you got that settled. So, no air left to clear, sure not with me.”

Brokeback poly fic:

Jack grinned, bright and warm, and what was left of the knot [in Ennis's chest] frayed away. “C'mon, then,” Jack said, clapping Ennis on the arm harder than was quite reasonable—but he probably deserved that. “Toss your shit in the back and let's go.”

Midlife Crisis Ranch (the other Bokeback fic):

“I don’t wanna keep doing this thing of going off, couple weeks outa the year, hiding out in the ass end a nowhere. Don’t wanna keep being a stranger in my own damn house, neither. I want a real relationship, Ennis. With a lover I can come home to, who’s there, and I can turn to when I need somebody. And tell you what, I don’t trust you to be that.”

ATLA fic I abandoned years ago but have rebooted:

The shop boy—about Yong-lin’s age, surly, a difficult past emblazoned plainly across his face—turned and frowned, blinking, at the giant pot. He blinked again. “I—don’t know.”

Old Guard "Immortal Weekend Warriors" fic:

“Yo, Padre!” It took a second too long for Nicky to turn to look at Nile walking towards them from up the main aisle.   “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve been called that?” he asked while Joe wheezed with laughter, one hand on the shelving to keep himself somewhat upright.  “I’m pretty sure the last time was him,” Nicky continued, jerking a thumb at Joe, “and he was making fun of me.  I just had flashbacks to seminary. Cristo.” Nile snickered.  “Sorry about the religious trauma, Booker wants your opinion on some window blinds."

And I think that's everything active at the moment!

By all means, bother me about these stories. Like, please. I'd love to get my brain to latch onto one long enough to get something to a postable point 😅

Tagging: @hotcocoaandstripedsweaters @mediumorange @nerdsandthelike @minncoe and anybody else who feels like participating!

#eiiri made this #tag game #fanfic #last line game #brokeback mountain #avatar the last airbender #the old guard #tristamp #trigun stampede #star trek #star trek tos

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 32

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 1547

Warnings: Talk of death, PTSD, talk of suicide, swearing

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Fire Away Afterglow

****

All these years, Ghost had believed Hangman abandoned her, that he never came to visit. All these years, Hangman had allowed her to continue believing that rather than confess the truth. But why?

As if sensing her question, Hangman continued, "I'd just watched the medics try to resuscitate Ghoul after she coded when I stepped into her room. I offered to be the one to break the news to you when you woke up since her death was my fault. I went to your room and stood outside for probably ten minutes, watching your heart monitor beep slowly and steadily, convincing myself you were okay. My foot barely hit the floor in your room when you started coding, too. I don't know what caused it. I never asked. But after that… I- I couldn't bring myself to see you again. I'd killed Ghoul, temporarily killed you, and just by trying to see y'all. I was terrified if I tried to see you again, you'd code a second time, and that the medics wouldn't be able to bring you back. So, I stayed away."

"W-why did you never tell me?"

"I blamed myself so fully- and still do since we're bein' honest here- that I convinced myself you would too. I could see how upset you were whenever I did see you, and I couldn't- I couldn't face you and hear the words I thought you might hurl at me, the words I already told myself every night, so I would leave before you could reach me. It was one thing if the words came from me; I could chalk it up to survivor's guilt. But coming from you..." Hangman chuckled humorlessly. "I never cared much for people's opinions unless they had sway and could get me where I wanted to go, but you- you were one of the few whose words meant everything to me. When you defended me so firmly at the trial, it was the first time I thought you might not hate me like I'd convinced myself you did, but I was wrong. When we exited the room and locked eyes, I saw the hurt and the anger, mainly the latter. You could've burned the world with the flames of rage in your eyes. Then you turned your back on me and walked down the hallway, essentially telling me to fuck off, which you had every right to, and the little remaining hope I had left disappeared." 

Hangman rubbed his face with his hands, then tipped his head back against the wall to stare at the ceiling. Ghost noticed the tics in his jaw while he mulled over his next words. "I relived that crash every God damn time I closed my eyes. I saw it every time I went up in the air for a year. I wouldn't let my wingmen fly directly behind me. I pushed everyone away. It was easier that way. That way, no one could hurt me, and, more importantly, I couldn't hurt anyone else."

"But I still don't understand why you never told me you visited. If you told me this back then, I would've understood, Jake. It was traumatic for everyone involved."

"Because I was a coward. Seresin men, we- we tend to break things. I swear we're cursed. Look at my father with broken his marriage, Nick with his embezzlement situation, myself-" Hangman scoffed, and Ghost saw a glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. "I kill people without meaning to. Killed you, killed my mom, killed Ghoul, now my father… that's what I do. Seeing my mom in the hospital and die in front of me the second I went into her room traumatized me, and I never liked hospitals after that, but I chalked it up to shit luck. Then I went to see you and Ghoul after the crash, and when Ghoul died upon my entrance, I figured it was a shit coincidence. Then you died and- and I realized I was the problem. I believed if I tried to see you again, you'd die a second time. I couldn't risk that. It sounds stupid to say I'm cursed, but it's the only explanation. After all, one's an accident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern. I believe it to this day. It's why I couldn't bring myself to see Phoenix and Bob after their crash. It's why I couldn't go to the hospital when Princess passed out at the beach. If I went, it would've been the death of her. My father's death just adds to the proof of my curse. God, even halfway across the country, and I still killed him."

Ghost swallowed the knot in her throat. All this time, it'd been a severe misunderstanding with horrible pain and PTSD on each side. She wanted to cry in frustration, but her gut told Ghost to keep it together, that Jake held something back. Taking into account his rambling explanations and apparent inability to currently stop talking, Ghost pressed on. "You're not cursed, Jake; if Juliette were here, she'd tell you the same thing. As awful as the coincidences were with me, Ghoul, and your parents, they were just that: coincidences. I'd had water in my lungs, and Ghoul and your mom had bleeding of the brain that they didn't catch in time. None of that was your fault."

"My mom died because she picked me up. You and Ghoul died because I cut you off."

"Which you wouldn't have done if you thought it would put us in danger, and it wasn't the crash that killed her. Her parachute failed to open. That's not on you."

"It still happened, though. Y'all wouldn't have had to eject if I hadn't cut you off in the first place."

Ghost reached over and laced her fingers with his. "I don't blame you. I never have and never will. I just wished I would've learned this sooner. Then maybe we wouldn't have been the way we were all these years. I'm sorry for not giving you the chance to explain sooner."

"You did, but I balked. Every fucking time, I balked."

"But you told me in the end. Thank you for telling me everything."

Ghost froze when Hangman slid over and rested his head on her shoulder. He sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring myself to tell you sooner. You should thank Coyote, too, come to think of it. He's the only reason I'm here right now, whether he knows it or not."

"What do you mean?" Ghost's blood ran cold at his words. She'd swiftly understood how Jake's upbringing and trauma from his childhood caused his reaction when the accident happened, but these words… only one thought came to mind, and she couldn't bear to even go down the road of consideration for them.

"After the trial, realizin' you hated me, the nightmares, the knowledge I'd killed Ghoul, I started thinkin' the world would be better off without me. All I did was hurt people. I walked too close to the edge of the hangar deck and stared at the black water, thinkin' how easy it'd be to jump in and disappear. Javy found me, but I don't think he realized his impeccable timin'. He told me to not get so close to the edge and just chatted with me. I couldn't figure out why he was speakin' to me after all that happened, but it stopped me from jumpin' that day."

"And the days after that?" Ghost asked, voice barely above a whisper. A weight- unrelated to Hangman's head- rested on her shoulders at the newfound knowledge of his inner turmoil.

"Spite. Javy knew how to get through to me, said why I should keep flyin' and own the new callsign. Told me if I gave up on the Navy, it'd prove my father right about me. That was all I needed to hear, but I never forgot the pain, and I decided outside of Javy, I would never let someone else in. Held that promise to myself until I met Jules, but even she doesn't know all this. She'll find out sooner or later. You women always find out everythin' whether us men want you to or not…"

Ghost waited for Hangman to say more, but when he started snoring, that gave her the answer. Ghost squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips, desperately attempting to stop herself from crying and waking him up. He needed to be the one comforted right now, not her. Maybe if she'd been there for him, maybe if she'd gotten her own head out of her ass and released her anger long enough to talk to him, had given him a chance to explain, then those suicidal thoughts never would've entered his mind. Ghost had come so close to permanently losing Hangman, and she hadn't learned of it until six years later. Had Coyote not shown up when he did...

The brutality of the truth hit her like a tidal wave; no matter what she did, the silent tears flowed down her cheeks. She tilted her head and rested it atop Hangman's, whispering so low that she was barely audible, "I love you. Forever and always, I will love you."

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32

If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

#top gun #top gun fic #maverick #rooster #hangman #phoenix #bradley bradshaw #iceman #bob #jake seresin #coyote #payback #fanboy #omaha #yale #halo #fritz #harvard #tg2 #tgm #top gun maverick #fanfic #jake seresin X oc #pregnancy #grief #foxtrot #alpha

[gildedmuse]

So, I just know all of Tumblr was wondering, "hey, you remember that really weird ZoLaw fan with the annoyingly overly stylized post? I wonder if she's seen this and if she has any theories or thoughts, an observation or two?"

Well, allow me to set your wandering mind at ease, fictional Tumblr fan. The answer is: No. No, I really don't.

I have like three hundred.

[I also spent time just trying to track down as many translations as possible. Is Tera A Criminal's Daughter or The Daughter Of Thieving Bandits! These are CLEARLY separate things and can ENTIRELY change how her utter nonpresence in Zoro's life shaped him! Though I can take comfort in knowing that, regardless of what kind of crimes her father was committing they were more important than anything his daughter ever did in her entire life.]

And, hey, as might as well jump right into that whole mess.

1. Wait, Zoro's mom is dead? Thank goodness, I was worried Oda forgot one!

(AKA: Stop. Murdering. Moms.)

I'll go first, I don't mind saying when I was wrong. True, in the past I may have suggested that the vast majority of female characters in One Piece come off as ever so slightly, "leaning into sexist tropes with unadulterated joy; it's the misogynistic tropes equivalent of a child running naked through a grocery store. It's right there, everyone sees it, yet people shut up and continue shopping in part because, well, these days you just expect most people to cover that junk! What would you even say? And if you DO speak up and call out the inappropriate, be prepared for blank stares and tantrums; but THEY don't mind! THEY don't think it's wrong! You're just being mean!"

More or less a direct quote.

However, I see now that I rushed to judgement and the reality of the situation is far more nuanced. With that in mind, I was just wondering if someone could help answer some of the questions I have.

Like: Why does Oda believe that it's illegal for (maternal) female characters to survive other character's backstories?

More importantly, why hasn't someone just reached out to explain the misconception!? It can't be that difficult. If nothing else, just have a lawyer or judge or other expert in censorship on hand. Or is the one of those cases where back in highschool his friends made something up and then kept pretending it was real to see if he'd believe you and not only did he fall for it, it took over 20 years before he learned that, what, no that's not illegal. That would be crazy if it were an actual law. Cause you know, after the first 10 years I think yeah you have to just lean into it. Pretend it's a creative decision on your part and definitely not because you were terrified of being sentenced to a slow and humiliating public death.

Just to be clear that's definitely what's up, right? I mean, I'm struggling to think of another reason....able excuse why a story that I really enjoy keeps playing the same old sexist tropes cards again and again to the point of absurdity. It would just help if I had a valid excus- explanation. I almost mistyped the word explanation.

....

....

So I imagine it went like.

"That's the third mangaka they've had to Publically Execute this week!"

"They've started taking this law way more serious lately."

"This one really deserved it though! I heard his main character has a mother in her late forties!"

"That does seem old to have your first child."

"No, he's the middle of three and 22 years old. The story even has flashbacks of defining moments in his childhood and never once did she try to sacrifice herself for him, get murdered by his enemies, or die in meaningless unrelated accidents."

"Damn, that's cold to be there for all the protagonist core moments and not die and help him develop and grow a character? They must have a very antagonistic relationship. Is she actually the villain."

"Not that we know, and when they asked about this being a possible plot twist since - obviously if she's evil no laws are being broken."

"Well, of course, that's the whole reason Statue 2-dash-57 exists; if creators can show they have consistently been building up to a surprise twist then the female character in question can continue to live so long as she continues to be unrepentant and unlikable until the resolution of her arch by the protagonist."

"That's the thing! Under oath not only did man present no evidence to support her identity as a secret villain, he went on the record stating he wanted to depict their relationship as one of a normal modern 20 year old and his mother."

"That can't be true! What publishing company would even print that!?"

"It gets worse. I told you he was a middle child? Well, according to those who've read the actual manga, his younger sister was really sick as a child."

"Oh, well, at least-"

"It was just a fish allergy. She's perfectly fine."

"Sometimes I feel this law is unnecessarily harsh but.... Then you hear stories like that, and you realize that some people really are monsters."

#So this was going to be one post three parts (because obviously) then I remembered even people who have purposefully followed me hate that #I took into consideration that not everyone wants a unmountable wall of Zoro meta analysis on their dash so now its gonna be 3 post style #keeping in mind I've already written it all up and will just be posting them one after the other so effectively the same result #only with the illusion of my empathetic nature #I do have a lot of thoughts on what amounts to a very small amount of scribbled lines and a couple doodles #he literally didn't even bother giving Kuina's mom or grandmothers a name like they didn't even have a identity #In fairness there wasn't a need for them to have any kind of identities or individuality or identifiable features #everyone knows only one trait really matters when it comes to adult females: they go down #into the ground....as a corpse. After ensuring that their death would be the best way to help their children grow. As characters. #I'm joking cuz its funny. It's obvious why Zoro's mom got a name & description: she gave birth to a protagonist and not a human sacrifice #But have considered why those specific qualities are what he chose to define her by - she's fictional he could have made up anything! #I'll have to talk about it in the other posts I'm wasting precious tag room #one piece #roronoa zoro #one piece meta #one piece sexism #this post is not for everyone; actually its pretty much just for me #conversations with fictional people #more opinions than anyone asked for about subjects they don't even care about #Oh! I found the blogs new subtitle! #author gets sassy then preachy then sassy again and then swerves sharply to the weird #oh these tags are way too much #Zoro's backstory #Zoro family history #amusing musings #why am i the way that i am #three post style: part one!

[writteninthesewalls28]

Family

A story about a girl wanting to find out the truth

A/n: Chapter eleven already… @niallermybabe this is the new one btw!

Warnings: curse words, mentions of death

Milly’s POV:

"Did Louis call yet?" Calum asked me, standing in our kitchen, preparing the pancakes. I shook my head.

My brother had been released out of the hospital, the next day after our rather unexpected and turbulent arrival. We left two days later and now have been back in Adelaide for about two weeks. And- well. Our apology had been very emotional for both sides.

(Flashback, the day after Milly and Calum arrived in London)

"Louis, darling. I'm just gonna grab a coffee, gonna be back in a few minutes." Harry said, shooting a glance at Calum who also stood up from his chair in the hospital and said: "Yeah, I'm gonna join. Do you want something too?" Looking at me, but I only shook my head.

I still had a pounding headache from my panic attack yesterday night. Everything would help, but certainly no caffeine. Speaking from experience.

As soon as the two men left the room, I was left in silence with my big brother. There was so much to talk about, but no one was brave enough to take the first step and start talking. After the longest 2 minutes of my whole life, I finally figured, he wouldn’t say anything.

"Lou, look. I’m sorry, so sorry.“ I took a deep breath, didn’t really thought it would be so hard to say sorry to a person you grew up with. Me and Louis normally always had a really good relationship, I never would have guessed one single thing could turn it upside down. "I know you deserved better, I should’ve checked my phone and give you and Calum more information." Half way through my 'speech' I started tearing up. I truly was sorry and just wanted to fix this. I could no longer live with this broken relationship, I needed my big bro again. But I wasn’t brave enough to say that to him.

"I also owe you an apology." He finally said. I sighed in relieve.

I slowly walked towards his hospital bed and kneeled down to the floor to look at him.

Tears were shining in his eyes too.

"I shouldn’t have gotten so angry and said all these mean things to you. I just-" His voice cracked and he let out a shaky breath. "I care about you. I want to protect you. For me, you are still the little girl, building sand castles and asking me to help." I didn’t notice the tears on my cheeks, till Louis slowly wiped them away. He chuckled and continued talking. "I sometimes forget you are all grown up. And how grown up you are. I never thought, you'd turn into such a beautiful, strong and amazing woman, Milly."

This, this is my brother. How I always will remember him.

"Thank you Louis. Thank you for giving me the chance to fix this. Just remember that I am very sorry for what happened. Next time, I'll be more careful. I won’t make you worry so much again. Promise." I stood up and hugged him. Louis gave the best hugs. I saw so many posts from fans about his hugs, but to really get them, you have to experience yourself.

His hugs always make you feel so comfortable and calm. That’s what I miss the most when I'm back in Australia and not with him.

"Gonna miss you." He said while hugging me.

"Yeah, me too. Australia is too far away from home."

My brother and I agreed on calling each other once a week to stay in contact and don’t let anything come between us again. However, he mostly forgot about these calls and wasn’t home on Wednesdays. It was just a quite annoying new bad habit of my silly big bro. But honestly, I didn’t even care in the slightest. As long as us two have a fixed relationship again, I am happier than ever.

Suddenly I felt a warm hand on my left shoulder. Calum. He put down the big plate with 3 steaming pancakes down right in front of me on the table. I realized, I've been pressing my chin onto the edge my cup filled with tea for the past few minutes and now my front hair got wet from the hot steam exiting the Harry-Potter themed mug. I quickly put it down and gave Calum a little smile. I knew that both him and Niall knew how exhausting these past few days have been for me. Mentally and physically I felt just empty. Like the energy to search for my parents never even existed. I desperately wanted to continue, but right now it just didn’t seem like I actually could.

"Mills, have you thought about what you want to do for your birthday this year?" Calum asked after sitting down on the chair next to me, slowly taking a sip out of his coffee cup (we had enough arguments about the issue that coffee is just disgusting but he wouldn’t believe me, so I decided to ignore it).

"Oh… I totally forgot about that one…" My 26th birthday, on 20th of October, was only about one week away, but with all the stress over the last days I completely forgot (or ignored, who knows..) about it. What would I want to do on my birthday though?

When I was a child, my mom always gave us the opportunity to decide on an activity we could do with the whole family. I very clearly remember my 10th birthday where we went horse back riding. The little brown horse that I sat on did not want to go forward, no matter what I would do. And I, I just started crying. Out of nowhere, the horse ran away and I fell off and broke my arm. The only birthday I ever spent in the hospital.

Mom didn’t let us siblings pick any other physical sport activities for the next 3 years, much to the disappointment of Louis, a very talented football player at the time, who loved making fun of Lottie when she didn’t make a goal again.

The first few birthdays after moms passing, the siblings spent together, mostly crying in each other’s arms. Then, everyone slowly started living their own life. Louis was busy with writing songs and being a Judge at the X-Factor. I moved to Adelaide to be close to Calum and to live with him.

I would never admit it, but me and Louis held the Tomlinson-sibling-team together. After the death, Lottie, the actual older sister, simply couldn’t. So I took her part. And when it was us two, Louis and me, leaving forever, we all knew the relationship between us 7 siblings would never be the same again. Too much happened, there suddenly were too many kilometers between us.

Hence, how would I possibly want to spent this next birthday?

"Milly, are you still on earth, or did you get lost in space again?" Calum asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Yeah, yeah. I’m still here, just did a quick trip to the past again." Calum helped me a lot during the first few months after mom’s death and had to deal with a very depressive girlfriend, who either didn’t want to even get out of bed in the morning or lost herself in her work, so she could ignore the pain. I was so grateful for him, and that he never even thought about leaving me. So he obviously knew that I would sometimes get lost in the past, but he also knew how to get me on the right track again.

"I got a little idea for your birthday." He quietly said.

"Ohhh, please tell me!" I said, rather relieved, maybe it could still be a good day after all.

"Since Niall is staying a little longer, how about we throw a little garden party with Niall and Luke, Mikey and Ash? Some other people if you want to—"

I interrupted him with a sudden hug. "Yes! You are the best." I whispered in his ear. A garden party with the people closest to me made me feel comfortable and safe. That could actually work and turn this day into something nice.

But first, I deep down knew I had to go and do something different before this little party.

Calum’s POV:

You guessed it. She left him again. Well- not left left him, but she made her way to the other part of Adelaide, to the neighborhood where her parents lived before they moved away. At least that’s what she believes. Calum, however, knew the truth. The house is empty because her father died and her mom, pregnant with Milly, moved away.

When Milly announced her plans for this day last night while watching the second Kissing Booth movie (yes, they fell in love with the trilogy), he turned quite anxious. What if she finds out and cannot live with the truth, what if she falls into the deep hole again, the same hole when her mom died? He wasn’t sure if he would be able to get her out of it once again, after all that they went through together. Both of them weren’t the strongest anymore. But, right now, he couldn’t change anything anyways, so he grabbed his guitar and waited for his bandmates who announced to visit him today so they could decide on the final songs for the new album.

Right in that moment the doorbell rang.

That has to be Luke, he’s the only one who’s always too early. Quite an annoying habit if you ask Calum.

"Hey mate!" A smiling Luke said when Calum made his way to the front door and opened it. "Good to see you!"

The exchanged a quick hug and then decided to already go to the music room and wait for the other two men.

"So…is Milly here today?" Luke whispered. At first Calum reacted rather irritated. Why would he ask that? But he quickly realized, what it was for.

"No she actually had to leave today, it was very urgent." After this little- situation, where he told the three boys about Milly’s plans, he never mentioned it again. And to be honest, he didn’t really want to talk about it with them in the first place. It was something, Milly should decide on whether the band should know about it. So, since then, he always made up excuses why Milly wasn’t there.

Turns out they need lots of groceries and Milly even has to do something for work when she’s actually on vacation… he felt bad to lie to his bandmates like that, but this was the easiest way.

"Well, about her birthday present…" Luke said, but couldn’t finish the sentence because the two got interrupted by the doorbell.

Maybe they could continue this talk after the others left again. He really hoped so. Milly’s birthday present was something he had planned for almost 3 months now, if anything goes wrong, he'd be very mad and disappointed about it.

Calum and Luke greeted the two other men at the door together and quickly got back into his music room.

When he and Milly changed rooms a year ago, Calum really put all his effort into this room and tried giving it a personal touch. Milly’s old office was one of the biggest rooms on the second floor in the house, so he knew right at the beginning, he wanted to include a little sofa so he and the guys could sit down together and have a chat. He painted the walls in his favorite color, olive green, which really gave the room a cosy aesthetic. Of course there was lots of technical stuff in the room, taking up lots of space: computers, recording equipment, microphones.

But the most important part, the heart of the room, were the instruments. Calum had 3 bass guitars, 2 normal guitars and a small drums kit for Ashton in the room. Whenever Calum didn’t want to talk to anyone and just needed some time to think, he just sat down here, in this room, and hummed a melody while playing a quiet song on the guitar, it relaxed him in an admittedly strange way.

The two awards they got for Youngblood and Sounds good, feels good hanging on the wall, always reminded him, HOW lucky he got. To find these amazing three people, to tour with One Direction, to get this incredible fans, but most importantly to meet Milly, most likely the love of his life, the person he’s gonna grow old with.

"Okay, so. Let’s start easy, which songs should definitely be a single, which songs should have a video?" Ashton asked. Their manager informed them, all the songs were already recorded, they just needed to know which songs will be the final album and they need to find the right strategy to release the music.

"I think Old Me is the right choice for a music video." Micheal said into the silent room.

Calum nodded. "Yeah, Old Me kind of deserves it, doesn’t it?" He said. The song represents our story as a band and what we’ve been through. It’s very special to all of us.

„Yeah, you’re right.“ ,Micheal mentioned, "But I don’t think it'd be a good idea making it a single, it’s too- slow for that."

The day went on like this. Talking, deciding, arguing, mocking Luke. Till all three of them (finally) left and he didn’t get a chance to talk about Milly’s birthday present with Luke.

Great.

Milly’s POV:

I parked my car in the same spot that, even though I now visited it the third time, still feels so strange to me. The fact that I already got so far in the search and will probably find out even more today, made me happy on one side, but the other side of me just was scared of what I would possibly find out today. What if its too much for me to handle?

I made my way to a door, the same door I had stood in front of when Calum called me and told me Louis was in the hospital. It seemed so far away, even though it was just three weeks ago.

My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest when I reached out to the doorbell and rang it.

Then I waited.

And waited.

And then I heard steps in the house, walking towards the door.

When the door opened, I couldn’t see the person opening it, but heard a soft woman voice.

"Hello dear, can I help you?" She asked and opened the door further so I could finally see her. She was older, probably in her 70s or 80s, had short, grey hair and wore a thick pullover with white and dark blue stripes.

The warm smile on her face made me feel more relaxed.

"Well, I don’t know if you can help me, but… well.", I took a deep breath. What can possibly go wrong with being nice and asking?, "Do you know something about the last owners of this house?" I asked, hoping for a 'yes'.

The warm smile on the woman’s face slowly faded and turned into a confused and curious look. Oh no. Of course she didn’t knew them, could’ve been too easy.

"Well, why are you asking?" Wait, maybe she still met them.

"Long story…" I said, waiting for her to say whether she has enough time to listen to what I had to say.

"I’m just an old grandma, I have time." She responded, asking me to come inside.

———————————————

The couple, whose names were Lily and Evan Hudson, lived in a small and tiny house with vintage and sometimes old furniture. You could feel that very sweet people had lived her for many many years. The history in this house was undeniable.

Lily’s husband was as lovely as herself, they were literally made for each other.

All three of us sat down in the kitchen, Lily even gave me a cup of tea.

When I told them about my story, where I grew up, the first time I came to Australia, when I moved in with Calum and the things I already found out about my parents, I saw tiny tears shining in Lily’s eyes.

Surprisingly, it felt rather easy to tell complete strangers about me and my history. I wasn’t nervous at all and did not have to cry when explaining the sudden death of my mom. Maybe that are the effects of being a lawyer, you get better at talking about particular topics and issues.

When I finished, I got compassionate looks from both of them.

Lily was the first to break the silence. "Well, this is a very fascinating story, I must say." She looked at her husband, as if she wanted to convince him to say something to me.

"Umm… yeah. And now you came here to ask us for information?" He instead said, much to the disappointment of his wife. I nodded, they weren’t angry at me, were they? Let’s just hope not…

"And of course we'd love to help you, right Evan?" Lily gave her husband a threatening look. These two were really funny, the way they were messing with each other made me chuckle slightly. In my mind, I imagined Calum and me acting like this when we’re old and grey.

I have to admit, I think about our future together quite often. There was no doubt, I wanted to grow old with him. I wanted to have a beautiful wedding with all my friends and family. I often dreamed about an amazing proposal, with lots of rose petals and him kneeling down on one knee.

But this would most likely not happen, Calum was a romantic guy, but he was extremely shy and would probably never have enough courage to propose. I knew that.

But a girl can dream, right?

"It would mean so much to me if you could tell me anything about them." I said to the couple.

"Well, so what I can tell you, is that your parents were the most nice people you can ever imagine. Just like you!" Evan responded, smiling at me. And that caused my poor heart to make a little jump. They had been nice!

"They moved here because it was the only house they could afford at the time. Holly loved talking to others and had often friends over.", Lily said, smiling and giggling when she thought about it.," She was like a social butterfly! But your dad. Oh well, he didn’t feel comfortable. Everyone could tell." Lily laughed and Evan continued talking, still having a wide smile on his face. You could definitely see, these people really liked my parents.

"When they found out Holly was pregnant, they threw a little party in their garden behind the house. We were so happy for them, they’d be the perfect parents." All these little stories made me so happy and helped me feel more connected to them. It truly helped talking to this couple. With my search and with healing my inner child.

"But- if everyone was really happy for them… why did they gave me away?" I asked, a question that had been in my mind for the last few minutes, since they started talking about Holly's pregnancy.

Lily let out a sigh and compassionately touched my arm.

"They moved away before Holly gave birth to you, we did not knew they gave you away…and to be honest, we are truly surprised that the really did" She said, not knowing she just shattered my heart to pieces.

I was so sure, I'd find out everything today. But, of course it couldn’t be that easy.

"We did knew that they left a few pictures behind though. Arthur had a troubled past and wanted to close up with that chapter by leaving these pictures behind, he told me only one day before they moved." Evan added, giving me a little bit of hope that I could still find them. Somehow. Somewhere.

"But you have no idea to which place they moved, right?" I asked, already expecting a 'no', which I received in form from a head shake.

"I- I got one final question." Lily and Evan gave me an encouraging nod, giving me some extra strength. "Were they really loving me?" Somehow, my voice started breaking and tears formed in my eyes. This was a little too much for me after all.

Lily immediately stood up from her chair and embraced me and I let out a quiet sob. My heart felt like it crushed together by these many emotions that I felt at the same time. Confusion, Anger, Sadness and Hope.

When she let go, she looked at me closely and responded: "They did, don’t you worry." And then added something that gave me even more incentive to finally meet them. "You have your father’s eyes. It’s crazy, look Evan!"

When her husband took a closer look at me, he said the same thing. " it’s true, I always thought his eyes looked like an actual piece of chocolate, yours remind me of that too."

I slightly chuckled and thanked them for helping me so much. After all, I didn’t want to stay as long. They probably had so much other stuff to do.

Without me noticing, Evan stood up and when he came back he suddenly handed me a little piece of paper with a telephone number written on it.

"I can’t promise you anything, but Ms. Jackson had been a very close friend of Holly's. Maybe she knows where they are now and how you can meet them." He said.

What. The. Hell.

I could maybe meet them?! Oh my god.

Tears started forming in my eyes again and I quickly hugged Evan, much to his surprise actually. But I didn’t care about that.

I got a number from a friend. From an actual friend of theirs.

Even when I parked my car in front of my house, I still couldn’t believe it, that I was so close to my goal. My goal that I had for years and years.

Much to my surprise, I noticed Niall's car that he loaned at the airport when he cane to Australia. Him and Calum were most likely listening to their songs together and playing around like two middle school boys. Idiots.

But at least I could tell them about my truly exciting news together!

I opened the door in Milly-style-speed and quickly started searching for the two men and finally found them in Calum music room on the second floor.

I was right.

"Mills!" Niall exclaimed when I suddenly appeared in the door frame.

Calum got up from his little chair and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "How was it?" Strange, was it just me, or did he look quite scared? I'm probably just overthinking again, as always.

"Guess what, I got a telephone number of an old friend from my mom! She maybe still knows them!" I said, starting to jump and squealed at the end. It just was such exciting news!

Both of them joined in on my little happy dance and we spent the rest of the night, listening to Niall’s music together and eating pizza to celebrate my amazing day.

#maddys fanfic