#thanks ree !! as always ehe

[venalier]

Wuthering Heights: Has your muse ever found themself in a toxic or destructive relationship? Who was the other party? How did it end?

       　´ ✱ ‾‾‾‾   classic literature asks.

i was thinking about this the other day when i was riffling through caeldori's s-support convos again and remembered this throwaway line from m!corrin's s-support:

Caeldori: Why do I always fall in love with men who never love me back? In the Deeprealms, I fell in love with my guardian…who was married. With kids. And after I left, I fell for someone who turned out to be engaged to another.

the second one's kind of an odd mention because as far as the game narrative is concerned, caeldori leaves her deeprealm to fight alongside her father and corrin's army, and jumps right into doing just that the moment she steps out. there presumably isn't any sort of span of time where she's left to her own devices. the implication here would be that this second unrequited love she mentions is someone in the army — probably some npc somewhere off screen.

anyway, the answer to the question is yes, and this person was it.

it's a wartime situation with a lot of changing factors in who they're fighting and the nature of their enemy and the fate of the whole world, which means there's a lot of uncertainty and probably, if they were considering finally bringing the gen2 units on board instead of keeping them continuously safe in the deeprealms, one where they were starting to need the help of anyone who could and was willing to fight.

it's fairly likely this was a man who had left his engagement back home, either nohr or hoshido or elsewhere, to join the front lines. and that time, distance, and threat of life made him more open to caeldori's affections than he would've been otherwise. she was freshly out of her very insular deeprealm life, exposed for the first time in her life to an enormous array of people, to "real life" as she saw it, and as such very naive and very eager to prove herself. she romanticized just about everything about being able to now spread her wings, so to speak — this relationship included.

and on his part, he probably didn't intend for it to go anywhere at the start; he saw her as lord tsubaki's earnest and hardworking daughter and there wasn't really anything harmful about being on good terms with her or if she wanted to talk to him and spend time with him here and there. it's not as if they were anything; and when caeldori, driven person that she is, unconsciously developed feelings and wanted more, he just didn't say no.

it's worth noting she says specifically "i fell for someone who turned out to be engaged to another", which forms most of the basis here.

in the end, she found out — whether because he finally told her himself or through some other means, and the fallout was pretty bad. she essentially ghosted because that was easier than confronting her shame, and they only had one conversation when he sought her out again, which started out civil enough but quickly turned accusatory and defensive on both sides. afterwards, though they saw each other here and there over the course of the war, they never interacted with each other past what was necessary, and caeldori took quite a long time to fully get over how she felt. she believes he simply lied and took advantage of her feelings, though how much of that is the truth was never something she thought or wanted to find out.

#╰ ･ HEARTLAND ✱ ∶ i have dreams of the fall of rome¸ of sparrows that flew with wings ablaze. #remember this hc meme from 4 months ago #anyway the inspiration struck after revisiting that support the other day skjskjgb #thanks ree !! as always ehe

[eowyn-huxley]

𝐄𝐎𝐖𝐘𝐍 𝐑𝐇𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐗𝐋𝐄𝐘 “Do not take life too seriously. You'll never get out of it alive.”

✦ 𝔟𝔞𝔰𝔦𝔠𝔰 ࿐

Name: Eowyn Rhiannon Huxley — /EH-yo-win Ree-YA-non HUCKS-lee/ Nickname(s): Eri Date of Birth: 21 May 1998 [25] Place of Birth: Cardiff, Wales, UK [Welsh] Hometown: Cardiff, Wales, UK Current Residence: London, England, UK Occupation: Events Planner

✦ 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭𝔰 ࿐

Father: Christopher Huxley † Mother: Rebecca Huxley (née Brown) Sibling(s): Owen †, Grace, Heather & Arwyn Huxley (twin) Pet(s): Mimi (pomeranian dog)

✦ 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 ࿐

As the first born in her family's set of twins, Eowyn has always been mistaken as being younger than her actual younger sister, Arwyn. With an incredibly vivacious and carefree personality, she'd often land herself in less-than-favourable situations when the idea of fun would triumph over that of safety. It has been this way ever since she was a little girl. Whether it be someone's birthday, a holiday gathering or a simple garden tea party with her dolls, she would always find herself in the spotlight, and loving every second of it. There was no denying she had the energy, the charisma, and the aura that drew everyone in, may it be friends, boys or even competition. But despite their differences, Eowyn has always been her twin sister's champion; if anything, it is because of her that no one really dares poke fun at the much quieter, more "eccentric" Huxley twin. After all, it's the least she could do for all the times Arwyn has saved her from irreversible trouble.

✦ 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 ࿐

✓ creative, decisive, vivacious ✗ compulsive, erratic, impatient

✦ 𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔳𝔢 ࿐

N01

DISCLAIMER This account is for roleplaying purposes only and is not associated with any individuals portrayed. Any resemblance to existing works, characters and/or persons should be considered coincidental and free of malicious intent. Please do not reproduce/redistribute. Thank you.

#[ eowyn huxley || introduction ]

[jerseydeanne]

Do you understand what’s going on?

The party of Liz Cheney? That’s the direction where the establishment Dems and Reps want our country to go! I’m old enough to remember that time when Liz’s father Dick Cheney happily claimed they found weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Later we learned it all was total BS. Saddam never had it. But it was too late. The Bush administration had invaded the country … Do you want me to remind you all of 2008? The Great Recession? Obama wouldn’t be in the WH if Bush and Cheney didn’t fuck up the entire world. Back to the party of Liz Cheney? Back to the party of refugees because their home country/s is/are bombed and destroyed by politicians like Dick Cheney and George W.? Recently we gave $40 billion to Ukraine, and the same establishment cannot answer the simple question “How the hell all these money will be spent?”

https://www.realclearpolitics.com/video/2022/06/10/morning_joes_richard_haass_we_need_to_get_the_republican_party_back_to_liz_cheney_republicanism.html

Eh, NO! Is this thing on! Would a bank give you money without knowing how you intend to spend it?

Quid Pro Quo Joe will happily ask the Chinese for money to cover up his corruption. Remember Creepy Joe was around during the Busch Cheney era.

I remember the recession that year. You could have shot a cannon in our local mall and not hit anyone. Crickets!

My mother lost her life savings in her 401K plan Biden pushed for, and then we bailed the bastards out.

Zelensky is a cover girl for the WEF.

We should have never been in Iraq, to begin with. It was always Afghanistan. We had Obama telling troops not to burn down poppy fields.

Kitty and I did a deep dive into heroin, leading us to REE Rare earth elements and Chinese leases in Afghanistan. While our troops died, the Chinese stepped on heroin, killing our citizens.

I still think the bio-labs need more exploring. Let's not ever forget this one. Right, Hunter?

It doesn't matter which door you open. It's pretty much all bad.

Liz is a RINO. Vote her out.

Sorry, I'm all over the place, but everything is connected.

Thank you for your ask.

Love, JD 😜💋

#Bush #Cheney #Obama #bio labs #Quid Pro Quo Joe #China #Greed

[bloodypeachblog]

A few things about Chester

•He’s about 5’8 but he floats because he’s arrogant

•His room in the family mansion is a science lab and he can’t sleep, he physically can’t unless he’s returned to his coffin, (which he stored in the morgue)

•He’s generally in a state of apathy or anger.

•He was adopted at 5 years old but already developed an Austrian accent.

•Speaks German, and French fluently and sometimes more fluently than English

•Only smiles infront of others to assert dominance or to show he’s being sarcastic.

•On that note you can hear cackling and clanging from the lab at all hours of the day but if you go in he’s sitting proper on a counter with his hands in his lap. Almost always with a glare in his glasses.

•His cousin Peire (P- ee- eh- ree) is a surgeon so sometimes the scene above will end with a pile of ash just next to him or in a clear urn. The urn is shaking in anticipation

•He died at age 33

•Cusses so much but never in English

Noted. So an arrogant Austrian emotionless asshole who speaks German, French, and English. Thanks!

[scenecipriano]

A True Love Never Dies Pt.2

Relationships: Roceit, past Anxceit, parental Locet, Parental Royality, Parental Intruality

TW: Grave mention, death mention

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

“I’ll see y’all later maw and paw… it was nice seein you guys, I’ll be sure to tell Ree and daddy that you love them.” 

Roman pats the top of the headstones and turns to leave the graveyard, he stops when he hears someone sob out close by. 

“H-How can he sleep at night after what he did!?” 

Roman knew that voice, it was a voice hadn’t heard in over eight years. He creeps forward, Roman hides behind a nearby tree and feels his heart skip a beat. There knelt Janus, the younger man choking back a sob as he asks his deceased mother the most heartbreaking question that Roman has ever heard. 

“C-Can you die from a b-broken heart, mama?” 

Roman hesitates before stepping out from his hiding place, he steps closer to his high school crush. 

“I’m not your mama… but I can tell you that you can’t die from a broken heart.” 

‘I wouldn’t be here if you could…’ Roman thought as he watched Janus tense up, he smiled softly when two toned eyes met his green ones. 

“R-Roman?” 

“Hi, Jan…” 

The two of them stay silent for a moment before Janus quickly wipes his tears away, he quickly stands up and clears his throat. 

“W-What um… W-What’re you doing here? I figured you’d be helping your brother and Pat.” 

Roman so desperately wanted to pull Janus into a hug, but he refrained from doing so, opting to put his hands in his pockets instead. 

“Eh, daddy said Ree had to gather up the hay himself. He let the chicken chase ol’Andy away yesterday when he was bringing the mail. What brings you in town and sobbin’ in the graveyard?” 

Janus’ face flushed scarlet as he looked away, Roman couldn’t help but chuckle at him. 

“Well… My boyfriend and I had a falling out. He broke up with me so I figured I’d come home ya know? Get out of the city for a bit.” 

Roman nods and rocks back and forth on his heels, Janus still looked as pretty the last day Roman saw him. His wild strawberry blonde hair hanging in front of his eyes, his heterochromatic eyes shining brightly, only they’re more red this time from his crying. Roman always loved the little dimple that would pop out whenever Janus would smile, he’d kill to see that smile again. 

“I’m surprised you’re not in some fancy suit, ya know being a lawyer and all, or did you go along with that?” Roman asks, breaking the silence between them. 

“Actually, I didn’t. Virgil convinced me to go into photography, I’ve actually had a couple pieces put in the New York Times.” 

Roman smiles, he always loved Janus’ photos.

“Ah, so that wasn’t a typo I saw then! Good job Jan!” 

Janus mutters his thanks and rubs his arm, he shouldn’t be so awkward, he’s known Roman since they were kids! ‘But why do I feel so nervous around him? It’s like high school all over again…’ 

“So, I’m done with my work for today and just got done visiting maw and paw… Wanna catch a bite down at Remy’s? They still got your favorite.” 

Roman couldn’t help the laugh that left him when Janus suddenly brightened up. 

“Extra spicy chili with a side of cornbread and a dessert of your choice?” Janus asks, the excitement clear in his voice. 

“Mhmm, besides, he and Em will be happy to see you after all these years.” 

Roman tenses up when Janus pulls him into a tight hug, he relaxes and wraps his arms around his old crush’s waist, burying his face against the smaller man’s hair taking in his fruity shampoo. 

“It’s really good to see you, Ro…” 

Roman tightens his hold and smiles. 

“You too, Jan…”

---------

A/N: Not that long but here’s part two!

~TAGLIST~: @imma-potatoo

#sanders sides #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders mentioned #remus sanders mentioned #tw graves #tw death mention #roceit #look at them they so in love #time for the stereotypical southern romance y'all

[dwestfieldblog]

A VERY REMOTE ENGLISH TEACHER

Where meditations, rants, reverie and absent seizures cross over... closer to one gun with one bullet, the rose of ruby and the cross of gold...uff, and MENTACIDE IN THE TIME OF MASQUES. Although I have never suffered from the guilty masochistic torture of ‘pleasure anxiety’, Bacchus hath indeed drowned more men than Neptune.  So I stopped drinking for 18 days to fool myself I was doing something positive and threw away enough things to be minimalist again. Arf. Beauty and/or function uber alles.  

Been treading water for three years and trying not to drown...big round of one hand clapping for the former poet. Meanwhile, in this temporary world and perception I have created of it, I am looking at a very possible exile one way or the other...my ‘plan’...a long phased withdrawal or hasty retreat. My wish is to stay, but once I leave, it might well be very hard to return.  Read as many metaphors as you want into that but in spite of my dislike of the conservatively minded Aristotle’s ‘either/or’ nonsense, there do indeed appear to be only two this time. And appear is the operative word. Appearances can be deceptive and emotions (unless raised and focused) cloud over what should be clear. Pain has a tendency to breed worry and fear too but let’s draw a veil over that for now eh? Suppress, suppress, release comes later...breathe deep and try not to cough, onward we go where the game gets rough...Just like Tom Thumbs Blues 65.  

Remember Roman Protasevich...As Lukasenko himself said...‘Belarus stood at the edge of an abyss and I helped it take a step forward’. Look good on your tombstone that will Al. Fecking outrageous the Indian PM only admitted in May that covid was transmitted in the air. He needs removing... as do two thirds of all the other world leaders East and West. Hello Bollsanaro. People are very easy to manipulate when they’re are scared or angry...and right now the world majority are both. But, ‘there is a crack in everything... that’s how the light gets in’... and ‘things could change’, doesn’t have to be for the worse. It can take decades to realise this as actual truth, but still nice to read and try internalise the following last week.’The odds actually favour the optimists, since dissipate structures are more likely to evolve into more information rich (intelligent?) forms than into primitive or chaotic forms.’ All my friends bar my best one are optimists..Hello you:-)

Ever onward deeper downward with Orban in Hungary and his mission of ‘Christian values’, which involves a familiar routine of arresting, beating and disappearing dissenters in the name of Christ and taking over the universities to replace professors with those who understand on which side their bread is buttered. Decent judges long gone. Nice fascist communism...and ex soldiers in France and the Czech republic warning of civil war...

And now spiraling we go into the black hole vortex of Disaster capitalism, ‘Let the bodies pile high’. There’s gold in them thar ills....ISLAND PARANOIA and PERFIDIOUS ALBION! A country which demands a contract, agrees, signs to it and then refuses to honour it. We look worse than ridiculous, we look deceitful. Gentlemen, your places please. Boris Johnson is a clumsy, inept, disgraceful charlatan, con merchant and LIAR. A blustering master bullshit artist, the only decent thing about his recent secret wedding is that now he legally has one less bastard child.  

Recently I read that British people are displaying signs of Stockholm syndrome...in that they dislike those who hold power over them and make the rules but during the time of pandemic, they are the ones who will release the saviour vaccine and get everything moving again. So rather than rocking the boat and daring to express dissent at the DIABOLICAL handling of the last 18 months, they have mostly kept quiet and voted for the same endlessly failing, corrupt and venal politicians who made a bad situation far worse. (That said, it bears repeating that there are a few million in the UK who didn’t quite understand that that the spread of a highly contagious airborne virus can be slowed by the wearing of masks/applying basic hygiene and even took offence at being told what should have made sense to any adult homo SAPIENS half capable of cogitating for themselves. Morons and scum. Same where you are?

By the way BBC...the colossal dearth of stories about the endless government failures in relation to Covid, death, corruption and the NHS...ever since they blackmailed you with threats of revoking the TV licence fee and got you to change Directors has been noted. Long may Have I Got News For You continue the satire and balance needed in a DEMOCRACY. Obey your public servants? Why, when they do not serve few but themselves? Power OF the people? Which ones...the mob? The same bleating pricks who follow populists?

Four eyed beanpole fop Rees Mogg, with his wonderful line that the benefits of Brexit will be seen ‘over the next fifty years’...well yes, that is why most people vote in democratic elections eh?...So they will be dead or ancient before the change they hoped for comes...and the politicians who lead them now, will have all long moved on to revolving door chairman of the board offshore limited liability company paradise. Bread today jam tomorrow fairytales. What I tell you three times is true.  

O, but the English do so love to be told what to do by dumb posh boys who treat them like dirt. Some are forelock tugging and some are self flagellating middle class upper class wannabes who will never get there but still feel proud they are not street level proles. Doby the house elf alien hamster Michael Gove found guilty of breaking the law. Nothing. Internal inquiries run by those connected to the money changing hands find nothing illegal. Corruption for all to see...and ignore. ‘Well, what can we do?’ The uselessly inept serial failure Dido Harding to be in charge of the National Health Service? (she of the collapsed Woolworths, Talk Talk and the 22 BILLION pound loss of the Covid Track and Trace program where non working consultants/insultants, were paid 1000 pounds a day). American style privatisation is coming where only the wealthy or criminal can afford to be repaired and well. Sick.  

Meanwhile, All our imported nurses out, and all the lobster red fat Spanish costa de la sol criminals back in. Great exchange, fair trade and forward thinking. The Kremlin are manipulating/supporting Scottish independence... I read years ago about their base in Edinburgh for Russia Today (the foul insert in The Daily Telegraph) and they were already encouraging it. Rees Smug has accelerated and supported their freedom with his snobbish utterances on countries in the UK other than England and their ‘foreign languages’. With every patronising, arrogant pronouncement, the Eton trifles fuel the fire in Scotland which has a long bitter history of being tortured, murdered and subjugated by their southern masters. Perhaps the chumocracy in Downing Street believe the Celts to be as easily cowed as the middle and working classes down south. Here’s hoping not. ‘Rebellious Scots to crush’? Not this time pal.

As for the future of Britain? A dystopian open prison where the lower social classes toil only at the pleasure of their masters. The higher caste getting richer and all others cast into a living Hell of debt, crime, and sickness. Serve until you die and be thankful we allow you to exist. Increasing in utter irrelevance to the world, other than as an example of how wrong a former democracy can go. This future started decades ago...its baobab roots truly deep now. Better education and critical thinking for the masses in the UK (or anywhere else) is highly unlikely now. Optimism huh? As long as I am not in England, I will still be able to tap into it, but once enclosed long term in the group mind there...trapped in a grey quagmire. Keep smiling...

Several weeks ago, I watched a video on YT of apparently English protestors running after the police in London, some attacking and throwing things, one pulling off the pandemic mask of an officer and all shouting abuse at the outnumbered cops who had to keep pulling back. As always, to get my caffeine rush of fury going, I read the comments and was surprised to see two or three from Chinese names. Almost all comments were against the government (fair enough) and dumb against the lock down, masks, vaccinations etc. Checking again, I saw the video had been posted by CGTN...a media company owned and run by the communist party in Beijing...and not one author of diatribes had mentioned this, nor speculated with a critical thought as to why such an organisation might enjoy turning people against their own democratically elected government (however mind rippingly foul and corrupt they are).

I copy pasted the Wikipedia paragraph about the company onto the page and hoped someone else would make the connection. I wouldn’t mind so much IF there were a credible and decent alternative other than the diseased populist poison for which the demonstrating goons chant. China really cares about the standard of democracy in Britain eh? Persuade your enemies to weaken themselves. Destroying countries by encouraging their ‘patriots’.

(That was written on the anniversary of Tienanmen Square...a few days later Xi Jinping gave a speech saying ‘...a lovable and respectable’ China must be presented to the world and must ‘expand its circle of friends’. Tell that to your teenage ‘dissidents’, Muslims, Falun Gong and Tibetans being tortured and brainwashed in prisons or being used for organ harvesting. Tell it to Hong Kong and Taiwan.) 

Unholy America...against abortion and the pill, sex education’s not Gods will and in the Name of Christ they kill...if truth be known, we’ve failed the test...but Jesus was a Socialist and Republican conservatives hate them. The founding fathers of America were Very clear about separation of church and state with damn good Reason. Another part time Christian, Mike Pompeo wants to be president. Q Onan deepstorm morons/Kremlin stool pigeons aka POLEZNYYE IDIOTY continue to push for Trump and his Big Lie...He with the brain where ‘In the left, nothing is right and in the right, nothing’s left.’ Arf.

Over the last two decades, the dumb have been finding their voice and are now louder and prouder of their dumbass ignorance. 74 million in the US alone, their egos unable to retreat in the face of endless evidence to the contrary, they all double down. Like children sticking their fingers in their grimy ears sing songing ‘la la la can’t hear you’. 74 million versions of Eric Cartman, loud, proud and wrong. And uuff, Megan Markle,  Majorie Taylor Greene, walking Picasso collage (bad car driver) Caitlin Jenner and Ivana Trump in politics...not exactly holding a proud lantern for women eh? I’d like to buy them for what they are worth and sell them for what they think they are worth. Not very PC?  

That was the point. Could easily been written about all of the men written about here too. Next examples follow...

Tucker Carlson and Alex Jones compete for who can be as mentally ill as trump. The Miami school where the husband and wife directors told teachers not to return if they had HAD their vaccine shots because their proximity to students was interfering with menstrual cycles and uuuufff...The sickness of utter mind buggering stupidity. I had my first shot, now waiting to turn reptilian when the 5G masts triangulate my position. Fnord. Covid appears to be killing more overweight meat eating males than females...perhaps testosterone is not useful for the coming Race of non binary mutant hermaphrodites...and look out for the end of the Y chromosome, coming to a temporary universe near you...in 4.6 million years. Yes, really.  

Glad Netanyahu is out at last, smug corruption is never a good look unless one is a rich criminal. Ha.  The Promised land of Israel...If I was in court for serial murder, breaking, entering and stealing and then defended my actions by saying that God had told me to do it, would the Judge; A. Call for a psychiatric report, B. Disregard the statement as unprovable and pass the appropriate sentence, C, say Ok mate, you’re free to go, good luck to you. ? Moses had a good schtick.

The law is only to punish the poor, do you feel as if you suffer from empathy? Once you know, you no longer need to believe. What does ‘reality’ seem to be? The more certain you are, the stupider you get and belief is the death of intelligence. The machine is running the engineers. What is the definition of rationality...the quality of being based on or in accordance with reason or logic. 

Nothing is, but thinking makes it so. Epicurus.  

EVERYTHING NOT COMPULSORY IS FORBIDDEN.

The glamour illusion of the mass of pointless hot influencers needs a constant renewing of the Banishing Ritual as much as all the pigslop bile coming from Fox News and Sky. Bloody long haired commie liberal faggot they cry against any not identical to them. Some days I have only flamethrowers of hatred for these idiots. Other days...not exactly self doubt, just questions...most of us seem to believe our opinions are more valid when there are emotions connected to them. Including me. Again, this seems like a very weak version of ‘truth’, unless disciplined, channeled and focused to a certain end.

Life appears to exist in order to become via chaos.

Most of us are working only not to be homeless, some because of the joy in our chosen work regardless of finances. Until ‘reality’ kicks in the door...the bondage gets tighter when you struggle. How much hardship is the individual willing to endure these days by choice? Surrounded by a universe of distraction and destruction, Maya mewling for our attention. Five years of Trump, rampant populism and Brexit doing a Hexagram 23 on democracy, compounded by the pandemic...all on top of ‘normal’ daily life. The ego feeds and the immune system breaks down. Hard to ignore without being on a mountain or in a parallel dimension and emotion free other than compassion. But BY GODDESS IT CAN AND WILL BE DONE. Ladies of Life Nin Khursag, Isis, Kali, Aradia...Love one, Love ALL. At very least have respect for thyself but be not thou proud of thine arrogance nor thy suffering.  

Or just Remember where you came from, what you were, seem to be and will become.

Heal, heal, more work to do, more love to give, more love to feel, Heal. Stay in drugs, eat your school and don’t do vegetables. Impose your own reality upon and through yourself, breathe, exhale, repeat, and continue, LOVE UNDER WILL. Experience and absorb but ‘It’s a house of tricks, ignore the world’’.

Stay well, be seeing you:-)

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Two, “Music To My Ears”

*Gif is not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: None

Music Inspo: All My Love by George Ezra (click to listen)

                                      SNEAKYYYYYY PEEK

It all feels surreal and so quickly, seeing him there dressed to the nines in another handsome suit. He’s back, and he’s all mine. I don’t quite know how we’re going to do this whole thing, but I can’t fucking wait. I’m unsure of how different it will be at the firm and as his mentee, but I know we’ll make it work. After the last few years of shit we’ve went through, this seems like a piece of cake, or so I hope.

“Morning,” I almost whisper, wishing I was threading my arms around his middle right now and not standing across the room. Instead, they sit flat against my front, hands clasped at my waist. His shiny brunette curls tickle his temples when he looks up fast and over to me, the light of a thousand suns filling his face.

“And so, when a person meets the half that is his very own, then something wonderful happens: the two are struck from their senses by love, by a sense of belonging to one another, and by desire, and they don't want to be separated from one another, not even for a moment.”

― Plato, The Symposium

+

My first attempt is measly, but by the second time, I get it open despite my wildly trembling fingers. The sigh I had been coaxing to remain inside of my lungs finds its way out at last when the door clicks! into the hinges. The blissed out smile I can’t remember being without sticks to my lips as my back graces the door. Somehow, the air inside here smells even sweeter as the fireworks still ignite within my chest. 

I’m only brought back to the present when I hear somebody clear their throat. Opening my eyes, I find Skye waiting on the couch with her knees brought to her chest. 

“So?! That was a long fucking time to be standing out in the hallway just talking, Rebecca Holte!” Skye exclaims with an eagerness filling her cheeks with crimson. 

All that escapes my lips is the happiest laugh I’ve felt my insides flourish in as long as I can remember. Her eyebrows raise with a question posed to me, and I answer it with a mere nod that causes her to shoot out of her seat and over to me. 

“Ree, finally!” she almost screams, and I echo it with my eternal laugh, relaxing into her arms. 

“Yeah . . finally it’s all coming together.”

I have just enough time to recount the details of the event to her in all of its glory. As if on cue, my ‘You’ve Got A Friend In Me’ ringtone begins to sing from my pocket. 

“Ooooo, is that him already?! You better answer it, Ree!” Skye exclaims with eagerness to her voice. The blush finds its way back to my cheeks as I escape with a cheek kiss from her, my feet soon padding down the hallway. 

“Wow, you actually mean it when you said you would call.”

“Why, o’ ‘course I meant it, bug. I always keep me promises,” Harry hums in return, just the sound of his voice launching my heart into somersaults. 

“I see that . . thank you,” I mumble, closing my door behind me softly, in order to deter Skye from eavesdropping anymore than she already is. 

“Can I say sumthin’ weird?” he murmurs, voice sounding far away almost. I blame that discrepancy on his phone paired to his car by Bluetooth, making him feel all the more far away from me. 

“Sure, I like weird. I mean, I like you.”

“Wow, good flirtin’ there, Ms. Hotshot. ‘m really feelin’ all tha love,” Harry titters until it wanders into a soft sigh. He clears his throat and a nervous laugh follows, pulling me to attention. 

“Oh, why thank you . . But, go ahead. What is it, Harry?” I return, falling onto the messy covers of my bed, exiled outfits littering the surface. 

“I already miss you, bug. Hasn’t even been ten minutes and I bloody miss you,” he confesses gently, a sad giggle adorning his words, echoing those that sit within my heart. 

“You’re not the only one, Harry. I miss you too. If we’re gonna be honest with each other, I missed you so much last week, and even more those seven months we didn’t talk, and-” I reveal into my phone, and then into his ears. The anxiousness falls away at my confession, one I’ve been coaxing to remain within my own ears for far too long. I had hinted at it and said it with my lips, but it feels so freeing to finally let the words loose to the world. To him.

My Harry. 

“Tha year afta ya quit . . I know. I missed you like hell durin’ all o’ those times too, it tore me up bein’ away from you,” he continues, pulling the words from my mouth where they leave to inform his ears. “And I want us t’ be honest with each otha, Becks . . Always.”

“I thought I’d never stop missing you during all of those times. And now, here we are,” I say, an ironic and yet happy laugh filling his ears. 

“Yes, here we are, bug. Togetha . . ‘s ‘bout fookin’ time,” he giggles, and like he always has been able to do, he pulls one from my lips with the help of his contagious happiness. “So, back t’ happier things . . Erm, what’re ya doin’ on Sunday?” 

“Eh, probably just watching FRIENDS in my pajamas.” 

“Mmm, I admit that sounds like a ratha wondaful Sunday. Why dontcha come ova t’ mine and watch FRIENDS in yer jammies with me? ‘ll even put on me jammies too,” Harry suggests, further proving that this can actually get better. I didn’t think that was possible.

No, I did not after that incredible first kiss, and second, and third. 

“That sounds amazing, Harry. I’d love to see you in your ‘jammies.’”

“Yers too, bug. ‘d like t’ make dinna fer you, as well,” he continues, knocking me off of my feet once again. 

“Aww. That would be so awesome, Harry! Hey, can you make your chicken pot pie? That pic you sent me from the last time you made it looked so yummy.”

“‘Course, ‘d love t’ make it fer you,” he giggles, the tell tale sounds of traffic accompanying his words. I hear a train toot its horn in the distance, and the rhythmic clicking of his indicator. 

“Okay, great, and I’ll bring dessert.”

“Sounds great, bug. I can’t wait, Sunday can’t come fast enuff,” Harry says, the purring of his engine filling the background. 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

His adorable laugh graces my ears, somehow being too long since the last time I had heard it, “How does 5 sound?” 

“It sounds like a date,” I chirp happily, wondering for the hundredth time if the words that are coming out of my mouth are indeed real. 

Real, they are, sister, the demon living inside the walls of my skull chimes. 

Where ever did you run off to? I reply. 

I’ve been here the whole time, mate, just watching and waiting. I’m usually not big on love, but holy shit, are you two adorable. Go on, now. You’re interrupting my entertainment. 

You stop interrupting! the angel groans back. 

“Hey, ‘m s’posed t’ say that part ‘coz ‘s my date! I said ‘d get tha second date,” Harry pouts from my ear, and I wonder if I’ll ever stop laughing. The better question is if I’ll ever stop smiling. I don’t know the answer to that one, and I think I’m okay not knowing. 

I wonder if I’ll ever stop loving him, and to that question, I already know the answer.

“Oh, sorry,” I chuckle hard now, fueled further by the sound of his clucking tongue, muttering a sarcastic ‘fer God’s sake, Becks.’ “Let’s start over.”

“‘Kay . . How does 5 sound?” he snickers, feigning composure in his voice when it’s needed most. 

“I’ll be there!” 

“Great, it sounds like a date then,” he titters, and soon our laughs mingle together, forming a duet. 

I thought my favorite song in the entire world was his laugh, but now, I think I may be wrong.

+

Surrealness blankets my body like a cloak, invisible, and yet all around me, as I stand in front of that door. The handle of the cloth bag digs into the crook of my elbow while the cold seeps in through my coat. I only grow colder when my fist raises once more, but it falls with a defeated sigh. Fear joins the other emotions fighting for the stage inside of me, and it nearly debilitates me with every second that passes. 

At last, my fist meets the muted scarlet red surface of his front door. A faint ‘c’min!’ sounds from the other side, causing my heart to gallop quicker inside me. A shaky exhale drops from my lips just before I swing the door open, and am met with the comforting smells of home cooking. I see him before he sees me, and the sight itself takes away the anxiety I’ve felt all day for this moment. For tonight. You’d think I’d have been more nervous for the first date than the second date. Nope, here I am nervous as can be standing in the doorway of his home, a bundle of nerves. 

Harry couldn’t look more adorable, or handsome, kneading his bottom lip while steam wafts along his face. Adjusting the yellow tea towel strewn over his shoulder, he closes a cookbook before his eyes dart over to me. His lips injected with golden sunshine reach his ears and the dazzle returns to his eyes dripping with green. 

“Hey, bug,” he hums, setting down the towel on the counter. The concoction of onions, herbs, and chicken tickles my nose while my heart races just at the sight of him. It does a few dances at the memory of our last date, and just how it ended. 

“Hi, Harry. It smells incredible in here,” I say, greeting him. After closing the door, I toe off my shoes to sit on the mat by the door. 

“Thanks, babe. Dinna’s all ready, I jus’ took tha pot pie out a few minutes ago,” he grins, coming to a stop in front of me with that sunshiney smile. The cover of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumors’ album dons his cream shirt in black and white. His long legs and bum tempt my thoughts in the form-fitting black joggers he wears. 

“Hey, you’re not wearing pajamas like you said,” I tease when he pulls me into a hug, feigning annoyance when that’s something I could never feel in this moment. 

“Neitha are you, li’l one. I can’t wear bloody jammies on a second date, ‘s far too soon. I still gotta make a good first impression,” Harry replies, the joking words brushing against my temple. Laughing, a shiver courses across my body but soon disappears once his arms settle to hold me against him. 

“I think that’s pretty far gone, that first impression thing,” I counter playfully, hesitantly removing my face from the crook of his neck to find his playful eyes waiting for me. 

“Doesn’t hurt t’ try, bug,” he giggles, and no matter how much I adore the sound, I can’t stand it any longer and steal it away with my lips. A similar giggle of my own is muffled against his lips that taste like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. They taste like him, I realize silently and happily. 

Our happy sounds mingle together while his lips mold against mine. They grow especially when he struggles to remove the bag from the crook of my arm, belatedly setting it down on the floor, allowing me to wrap both arms around him. The point of my nose dances across his prickly cheek when I pull away just slightly to surround his top lip with my own. The feeling of his prickly upper lip surprises my own, and leads my hand to caress his cheek. Smattering of vanilla sticks to his skin in spots while his warm breaths brush against my skin. The thrumming of my heart grows when I feel the lukewarm metal of his rings against my lower back, and then wandering in my hair. 

The feeling of his pillowy, soft lips are a thing of the past when he pulls away with a titter against mine. A soft question tumbles from my lips but he doesn’t answer it, instead pressing a whispery peck to my lips that still crave his. 

“Missed you,” he rasps, my skin igniting with sparks when his soft thumb pulls my bottom lip down, only to spring back. 

“I missed you more,” I argue and his cherry lips fall into disbelief. 

“Hey, that’s my line!” he exclaims, and I only laugh, realizing the trick I pulled. His happy song soon ghosts over my face, trailing behind his nose that draws a line against my cheek. “My Becks,” he coos in a whisper, ending his sentence with a punctuating kiss to my temple. 

“Harry . . My Harry,” I echo, accentuated by my hand running through his hair that is especially curly today. 

“‘m all yers, babe, have been fer longer than ya know,” he agrees aloud, escaping to the crook of my neck where his lips leave whispers below my ear and up my neck. 

The words themselves make my heart swell with what else other than love. It finds its way past my lips in a happy chuckle against his hair, and in another kiss pressed to his sunshine lips once he’s looking at me again. 

The temptation of one-upping him escalates within me, but I resist, unable to make a joke in this second. No, not after what he just said and the echoing words bubbling up inside of me. 

“I never could be anything but yours, Harry, it’s always been that way,” I smile, welcoming the truth and reality laced throughout my voice. The words resound in my heart louder, spreading throughout my body as I observe them fill his ears. A glow claims his eyes and then his lips, the dimples in his cheeks threatening to never leave. 

“You’ll neva know jus’ how happy ya make me, Becks, and how much ‘s magnified jus’ in tha last few days, bug. Yer me favourite person all ova again,” Harry mumbles in between blissed out smiles, one I haven’t had the pleasure to meet yet in all of our times together. No, I don’t think so. Spoiled, I am. “Let’s go eat dinna, bug. We can kiss mo’ later,” he rasps against my cheek, stealing one more kiss from my grinning lips. I nod, listening to his breathy laugh that I missed more than I realized while he was gone. 

My hand falls into his naturally, and he gives it a firm squeeze. Here he is, back with me, and he’s everything I’ve always wanted. This, is everything. 

“You’ve always been my everything, you just didn’t know it. Sometimes, I forgot it too,” I confess in a mere whisper, words interrupted soon by his. I only wish I had the courage that he does to speak them, loud and proudly. 

“What was that?” he mumbles, leading me over to the oval shaped wooden table on the other side of the kitchen island. 

“Nothing.”

“No, I heard ya say sumthin’, jus’ couldn’t make it out,” Harry insists, coming to a halt at one of the chairs. Luminescent moonlight trickles in from the almost closed drapes on the sliding deck doors opposite of us. Shaking my head nervously, a dominant blush attacks his teasing cheeks. “Ya gotta tell me, bug.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything!” I joke, and a high-pitched scoff adorns his lips quickly. A giggle spills from my mouth to greet the air when he yanks me into his arms, fingertips assaulting my sensitive ribs. 

“Becks! Stop playin’ hard t’ get, li’l one. We’re past that now,” he exclaims, feigning authority, but I can hear the affability shining in his deep voice. Laughs explode from my lips until they slowly die away, finding safety where I always do, hiding my face in the crook of his warm neck. 

“Or are we?” I titter against the pulsing, freckled skin. My lips shake louder when another offended scoff greets the air, feeding my laughter only more. 

“No, we aren’t, ya brat,” he pouts, and any worries I had are dispelled when his nose tickles my hairline. “Now, why can’t ya tell me what ya said? I wantcha t’ know ya can tell me anythin’ in tha world, Becks . . Promise.” 

“It’s kinda scary to say,” I admit, wondering about these lengths I’ve suddenly gone to that he somehow jumped within moments. He soothes the worries with his long fingers doting stripes up and down my back. 

“Ya can tell me scary stuff too, bug. Anythin’ at all. Could neva be mad at you when ya make me so bloomin’ happy without hardly doin’ a thing.”

A breathy laugh graces my lips now, muffled by the place where his neck and his broad shoulder meet. He remains silent, and the only sound I hear is that of his rhythmic breathing that does wonders for relaxing me in this crazed moment. His lips feathery against the top of my head do it for me, unraveling the ribbon that tied my not-so-secret together. 

“You’ve always been my everything, Harry . . you just didn’t know it, but I did,” I admit, taking my time enunciating every word into the confines of him. 

“‘ve always wondered, Becks, think it was coz ya’ve been me everythin’ longa than I can rememba,” he comments, taking my breath away with little to no effort, something he’s entirely too good at as of recently. “Thank you, babe,” he finishes adamantly, moving away and in the process, drawing my eyes upwards and towards his captivating greens. 

“Thank you, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“‘ve wanted it mo’,” he giggles, and I ruffle a hand through his hair to mess it up. 

“Stop it with the one-upping! You ruined the sentiment, Styles,” I exclaim, mouth falling into an exaggerated pout. His laugh disappears quickly, soon brushing my ears when it’s his turn to dive into my neck. ‘Sorrys’ meet my ears and are soon reciprocated with ‘okays’ and a squeeze from my arms around his middle. 

“But I do mean it, Becks. It wasn’t love at first sight really, but bloody hell, ya sure roped me in fast when ya wouldn’t take me shit. Ya became me best friend befo’ I knew it was happenin.’ I knew ya were sumthin’ different altogetha, I jus’ realized it too late,” Harry confesses softly below my ear, and for the first time since noticing those sad songs on his phone, sorrow wrenches at my heart. I had forgotten what it had felt like, the seeds of our relationship finally growing within my heart that’s been filled to the brim with happiness all of a sudden. “You neva once stopped bein’ me everythin’, Rebecca Ann Holte . . I neva wantcha t’ fo’get that . . ‘m sorry if I eva made ya feel othawise . . ‘m so bloody mad ‘bout you, and I can finally tell ya all ‘bout it.”

The right words escape me, like they so often do, a quality he luckily doesn’t possess, especially after everything he just said. Instead, I leave my hiding place wrapped up in safety, and press at the back of his neck until my lips are against his. 

“Mad ‘bout me as well, are we?” Harry asks, the question dancing across my lips in between kisses. 

A joke sits on my lips, ready to fire, while the shocks of caramel glow in his sage irises. Multitudes of feelings consume my words and pump me full of happiness, all thanks to the face I finally get to melt at the sight of. The face I finally get to call all mine, and cover with kisses too. I don’t know which is better.

“More and more every day,” I admit at last, letting the reaction unfold on his face framed by dark facial hair. No longer is it just stubble, and the realization excites me, leading me to wonder what he’ll look like with a proper beard. 

Quickly, the anticipation grows and then settles, resting assured that I'll get to be there to see it happen. I’ll get to see so much of his life happen, and get to share mine with him as he stands at my side.

“Couldn’t have said it betta meself,” Harry grins, planting one last kiss on the very tip of my nose. “Let’s go have some dinna and watch FRIENDS, Boops.”

+

“Ya really can’t disappoint me when it comes t’ baked goods, y’know that? Oh, and if they’re chocolate, that too. Yer really settin’ tha bar high here, Becks.”

“Why do you make that sound like a bad thing?” I say, turning my palm up in question that dissolves with the same happy sound that surrounds his lips. 

Shrugging his shoulders, another bite of the chocolatey bread passes his rosebud lips. The sounds I make only grow louder at the fake crying expression claiming his face, “Means ya gotta keep bakin’ me stuff, and bloody hell, mo’ o’ this chocolate banana bread, please. Two o’ me favourite things in one right here.”

“You can keep the loaf, Harry. I have another at home.”

“Oh, so when I run outta mine, I can jus’ come ova t’ yers and help finish that one off then?” he questions, licking streaks of chocolate from his thumb.

My God, you’re such a fucking tease, Harry.

Chill it, would you?

Who? Him or you? the demon chuckles

Fuck, probably both.

“Sure,” I respond, eyes following his long figure that leaves my side to wander to the kitchen. “You can come over anytime you want . . How does Tuesday night sound? I’ll make you dinner, and there will be more chocolate banana bread for you.”

“And mo’ watchin’ FRIENDS in our not so jammies with wine and loads o’ blankets?” he hums from the kitchen, the sloshing of a liquid into a glass following his words. 

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good, ‘ssa date then,” Harry chimes, returning to the sofa to slip underneath the multicolored quilt I’m tucked underneath. “A third date.”

“Whiskey now too? I thought you liked the wine,” I laugh, confused after my eyes had danced over to him where he sips from an old-fashioned glass. 

“I do, but ‘s not strong enough. Plus, ‘s yer Rebecca wine that I didn’t wanna drink all up.”

“What are you talking about, Harry?” I chuckle, scooting closer to him after he mumbles something I can’t hear.

“‘m nervous ‘round you,” he says again, louder this time before the amber liquid passes his lips once more. His eyes remain staring forward at the television where Monica and Rachel argue in the apartment. 

“You are too?” I wonder aloud, ever so softly, but there’s just enough volume in my voice to pull his eyes over to me. A nod fulfills his words while one corner of his mouth lifts slightly, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Surprise, surprise. “Why are you nervous? You’ve been so much fun all night, and the food was wonderful.”

“Why d’ya think? New relationship jitters - I don’t wanna mess anythin’ up,” he confesses shyly with a short smile overflowing with conflict. 

A ‘hey’ plummets from my lips without permission as I scooch closer to him, closing the distance until there’s no more steps I can take. My arm winds around his bicep, my other hooking my finger under his chin to get him to look at me. 

“You’re not going to mess anything up, that’s my job,” I tell him adamantly, pleased at the sound of his smallest of laughs. “I’m nervous too, like all of the time. I don’t want to screw this up either, but I’ve spent so many years wanting this with you - to be sitting on your sofa together at your house watching FRIENDS laughing together, and getting to kiss you, that I’m not just going to sit here and let it get the best of me. You shouldn’t either, Harry,” I tell him, my hand finding its way to him unsurprisingly. 

He leans into my hand that caresses his cheek, the pad of my thumb moving back and forth over his abrasive stubble. A ‘but’ jumps from his lips, but I don’t let any others follow when I place my lips on top of his. 

“Ya always know what t’ say, dontcha, bug?” Harry coos, flitting his eyes to mine under the shelter of his dense eyelashes.

“I thought you had that claimed, not me. That’s something you have to teach me. I swear, you have a way with words.”

“Dunno whatcha yer talkin’ ‘bout, love,” he tuts, shaking his head as he pulls me against his side, arm winding around my shoulder. 

“Look at that, you got the first ‘arm around the shoulder.’”

“No duh I did, ‘s tha man’s job,” he jokes, voice contorting into a deeper one that leaks with humor. My head heavy with dreams falls to his shoulder, and my hand strays to his chest. 

His hand brushes against my cheek, yanking my attention away from the show and to his patient eyes. He winks at me, followed by dipping down to press a kiss to the top of my head. 

“Alright?” I pose to him, taking a page from his book. 

“Can’t rememba tha last time I felt this ‘alright,’” he answers, the smile trickling into his eyes. “And you, bug?”

“I’m more than alright,” I comment, letting my eyes fall shut when he bumps his forehead against mine affectionately. A content sigh of mine, the first in a long time, tickles his chest as he falls back against the cushions. His fingernails leave zings of electricity among my arm underneath the fabric of my jumper, and soon they shoot across my head when his chin comes to rest there. 

“Which one ‘s this ‘gain?” he hums from above me, the words rumbling through his chest. The thum...thum of his heart resumes underneath my ear, and I feel as if I could fall asleep right here and now. 

“The One with the Candy Hearts,” I answer after pressing a button on the remote, hearing an ‘mmmm’ from his lips. 

“Could eat you up like a candy heart, yer so bloody cute,” he titters with words pointed at me, and I echo his happy sound. “Fook, it feels so good t’ finally get t’ say all tha cheesy flirtin’ rubbish I want t’ ya, Becks.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” I murmur chuckling, words soon stolen away by a yawn that ends with a smile when he scatters kisses along my cheek. 

“Don’t fall asleep now, bug. I might jus’ continue watchin’ tha rest o’ tha episode without you, like a certain sumbody I know,” Harry jests playfully, the most perfect sound igniting sparks across my cheek where his words land. “‘m kiddin. If ya need some shut-eye ‘s okay, ‘ll tell ya what happened when ya wake up, bug. I wouldn’t leave me favourite person out like that, not eeva.”

“Thanks,” I giggle, allowing my hand to stray to a chestnut ringlet that tickles his forehead. It draws his attention to my touch, and next, I find his green eyes with my own. “Harry, I have a request.”

“Ya, li’l one?” he hums in response, quirking an eyebrow in accompaniment. 

“After the episode is done, can we listen to some of your old records and paint each other’s nails?” I pose, the nerves peaking through in my voice. The approval pulls his lips up towards his cheeks once again, and I truly don’t think I could ever get sick of that smile.

Never, ever. 

“‘d love that, Becks. ‘ll hafta play some o’ me favourites fer ya.”

Sometimes, like in this very moment, I can’t remember there ever being a time when you stopped being my favorite person. There certainly were times, but they seem like other realities now, especially now that I know there’s no possibility that it could ever stop being you, Harry. It has always been you, and it will continue to always be you.

My Harry.

+

The sight in front of me still manages to baffle me, and it throws me for a further loop when I press my lips to her temple. She lets me, with the smallest of smiles gracing her blush lips. At times, it all feels like I’m in one of my dreams, until I realize that I indeed am living one of them. 

It’s about fucking time. 

Chandler and Joey bicker about something on the telly, but try as I might, I can’t get myself to focus on it. I didn’t miss a beat during the last episode, but now with the whiskey and wine coursing through me, the fear has fallen away. Her skin is warm against my lips, and the vanilla-orange blossom scent that she’s drenched in surrounds me. The easiest of smiles finds its way to my lips once again, and grows larger as I let my forehead meet her head.

“You’re supposed to be watching,” she whispers from below me, a soft amusement carrying her words. Opening my eyes, I find her long eyelashes flutter. Her scent trickles away when she moves her head, looking up at me curiously. The hint of a smile that’s been stuck to her lips ignites once again, keeping the fire alive within my heart. 

“What? ‘m good at multitaskin’,” I insist, knowing by now that we both can tell when the other is lying. 

“No, you aren’t. That’s why you get so little done on the days you bring your guitar to work,” Becks responds, widening her eyes a little at me to emphasize her words. 

“Rude,” I remark, but it’s stolen away by giggles. Hers and mine, and it might be the best sound I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. 

As the seconds tick on, I keep wondering when I’m going to wake up and the dream will be over. When I close the small distance between us, catching her lips with my own, I hope I never have to wake up. They’re like honey against my own, sweet and golden. The taste of her fills me and for what must be the tenth time now, her top lip tastes better than I could have ever imagined. It fits between my own like a jigsaw piece, affirming my notions I’ve had about this girl for years on end. 

Her decadent giggle grazes my ears when her ocean blue eyes fill my own again. I can’t help but join her, taking part in all of these things with her. I’m beside myself with how so goddamn right they feel. The smile that my lips haven’t been without for days now is mirrored on her own, the very pair that I’m still amazed I just got to kiss. The lips I’ve been dying to kiss for the last two, incredibly long, years. 

“What are you thinking about, thumbing at your lip like that?” she wonders aloud, my very favourite voice in this entire world. Cocking her head to the side, she stares up at me. The warmth inside of me spreads amongst my limbs, tingling at the end of my fingers where one of her dark curls wraps around it. Too much like the way she’s had me wrapped around hers ever since that very first day I called her ‘Becks.’

It was history after that, they say. 

“Jus’ rememba’d an old friend I ran into tha otha day. ‘s a story you’d like,” I respond, enjoying the way the light catches the dark and light flecks of blue in her irises. The Holte Blue Eyes, they appear to be, and I can’t stop myself from thinking what a child of mine would look like with those blue eyes. 

“Who’s that?” she smiles, tipping her head to rest on my arm wound around her shoulder. The pads of my fingers explore her back, drawing shapes over her too adorable olive green knitted jumper. 

“Alcott- Professor Alcott,” I answer, observing the connection echoing in her eyes. Nodding, her blues remain perked up at me. I can’t think of a better sight in this whole universe, and it brings happiness to my lips like she can do without hardly trying. “That day I ran into you at tha market, I saw him there right afta. I guess it was a good day fer run-ins with old friends.”

My subsequent out of place laugh pulls her natural eyebrows together in question, one that she soon vocalizes, “What’s so funny, Harry?” 

“‘s not so much funny as jus’ . . I dunno, ratha perfect,” I answer, and the happiness spilling from her lips is accompanied by a raise of her eyebrows. “When I saw him afta I spoke t’ yer class that one day, tha first time ‘d seen ya in almost a year . . I erm, asked him ‘bout you. I had no bloody idea ya were goin’ back t’ finish yer LLB, and so I was full o’ questions afta seein’ you in his class. He had all good things t’ say ‘bout you, big surprise, and there was this one thing he said that I never forgot ‘bout.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” Becks says, almost on the edge of her seat at the revelation of my story. “Harry,” she giggles when I take too long to respond.

It doesn’t have anything to do with reluctance, but more so because of how fucked I am right now losing myself in her eyes. Those blues, my God. The thought continues to unravel, and my smile fills out at its discovery.

I really do hope that my children get to have those blue eyes of hers one day, they’re the most gorgeous color I’ve ever seen. 

“Sorry . . He said sumthin’ ‘bout you comin’ back t’ work at me firm once ya graduated. ‘Circle of Life,’ he called it, so it was funny when I ran into him at tha market. I was beside meself with glee gettin’ t’ tell him that you did indeed come back t’ work with me. He was happy t’ hear it and ‘s very proud o’ you, as am I,” I share, and the confession plants the dimple into her left cheek.

After all of this time, I think I’ve figured it out. I can only find it there when the happiness engulfs her, surprising her with its intensity, letting the dimple out of hiding. 

“And did you tell him?” she ponders, now getting all shy on me by averting her eyes. I don’t think I have much to complain about, seeing how she’s tracing the outline of a tattoo on my forearm. A ‘what’ whispers from my lips as the curl relaxes around my finger, and my hand wanders to her cheek, pulling her back to me. “That you had a crush on me?”

“I did, ya, but I don’t think that’s how I phrased it,” I chuckle, finding the redness in her cheeks that also sit in mine. “Don’t think ‘d call it that, would you?”

Her answer is sufficed by a shrug of her shoulders, and quickly I’m losing my lips in the brown freckles scattered across her neck. My name flies from hers in a titter as my arms surround her. 

“Hmmm?” I hum against her skin, finding the hollow below her ear with my eager lips.

“No, I guess I wouldn’t call it that, either,” she laughs, the words vibrating beneath my lips. Letting my eyes fall closed, I lean into her and feel her curl up against me. “It’s far more than that,” Becks says softly, carding a hand through my curls. Bringing me forth, I move away from her to find those ocean deep eyes sitting on me. An honor, indeed.

Bloody hell, what a fucking honor it would be if my children had that twinkle in their eye and that song in their laugh, too. As well as that one little cheek dimple, just like Becks.

I don’t even care at this point how carried away I’m getting.

“Sure ‘s, bug,” I murmur, my surroundings soon cloaked in darkness when her lips find mine. Her hair falls through my fingers like buttery taffy when it finds the back of her head. Her lips taste like strawberries and sunshine, and not even because of the wine. Specks of chocolate hide in them, surprising me with their sweetness, just like she keeps doing to me.

I may never get over how sweet my little bug is, and that’s just fine with me, because I finally have all of the time I want to get used to it. Although I’m unsure if it will ever be enough, I know that Becky undoubtedly is.

A laugh sputters from her lips, bringing an end to our kiss.

“What’re you laughin’ ‘bout, Rebecca?” I snicker, nudging my nose against hers, stealing another peck from her candy coated lips.

“First, you saying my name like that, and secondly, keep playing with my hair,” is all she says, joined by her head falling to my chest. The disappointment at the absence of her lips is short when I’m again amazed by how effortlessly she gets me going with her head on my chest.

“Why ‘s that funny?” I ask, keeping my word and letting her satiny waves run through my fingers. Glancing away, I find her eyes flutter closed against the fabric of my shirt. The weight of her on my front feels comforting, and so does this entire thing. It’s just comforting the mere fact of her being here with me, and in my arms.

I still have a hard time believing my eyes.

“You’ll see.”

A question knits my brows together as I giggle, combing my hand through the front of her hair until I reach its end moments later, sorting out the snarls. Her breathing begins to slow and her body stills against mine.

“Becks, dontch’u fall asleep on me, bug. Our episode isn’t ova quite yet,” I snicker. The champagne bubbles that have filled my insides over the last few weeks climb higher and higher when her lips mirror the action.

“I will if you keep playing with my hair.”

“Ah, so ‘ve found yer weakness, have I?” I reply, looking down and placing my puckered lips on the crown of her head.

“Mmmhmm, it’s always been able to lull me to sleep, and relax me. My dad always did it when I was little.”

“Noted,” I murmur against her hair, letting my cheek fall to rest atop her head. My arms sing when they embrace her, welcoming the familiarity they find.

“Doesn’t help that yer a proper li’l heater too, yer makin’ me wanna fall asleep now too, bug. ‘s only six-thirty,” I yawn, my eyelids growing heavy as she snuggles into me. 

“Then take a little cat nap with me, Harry,” Becks yawns, burrowing deeper into the hollow of my neck. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“‘Kay, ‘ll just shut me eyes . . fer a few minutes,” I drawl, knowing that the slow rise of her chest on mine will soon take me away into dreamland.

I don’t know what I could possibly dream about that’s better than this, though. Perhaps little dark haired babies with her blue eyes and dimples set into their cheeks, sat upon her lap.

Oh, please.

+

A feeling that I had hoped and dreamed years for, sticks with each step I take the next morning after getting off onto Seventeen. I haven’t been able to kick the smile that arrived on my lips the moment I parked my car, and my cheeks have only grown more tired since then. 

Like every other morning, he’s nowhere to be found. Missing in action. Although I sat at his side with his arm around me until nine o’clock last night, my heart aches for him worse than any other morning at work. 

I spend no time dropping off my own messenger bag in my office, along with my lunch and thermos of coffee. My heart speeds up its racing when I slip into his office searching for him to no avail.

I’m ready to throw in the towel until I remember his not so hiding place from last time, and once again, there I find him with a stack of papers in his hands. A smile winds its way up my lips at the sight of him pressing his lips together, creating comical popping noises. 

It all feels surreal and so quickly, seeing him there dressed to the nines in another handsome suit. He’s back, and he’s all mine. I don’t quite know how we’re going to do this whole thing, but I can’t fucking wait. I’m unsure of how different it will be at the firm and as his mentee, but I know we’ll make it work.

After the last few years of shit we’ve went through, this seems like a piece of cake, or so I hope. 

“Morning,” I almost whisper, wishing I was threading my arms around his middle right now and not standing across the room. Instead, they sit flat against my front, hands clasped at my waist. His shiny brunette curls tickle his temples when he looks up fast and over to me, the light of a thousand suns filling his face. 

“G’mornin’, bug. What’re ya doin’ all tha way ova there, huh, why’re you bein’ a stranger?” Harry grins, waving a hand over to me while the large copier makes whirring noises, taking his document away. 

A nervous laugh tumbles from me as I take slow steps over to him, unsure if the smile climbing his cheeks at the mere sight of me is true. 

I wonder if seeing is believing. 

“C’mere, ya slow poke,” he titters, holding out an arm towards me. Finally, my heart begins to slow down. It only truly does once my cheek touches his shoulder and our arms settle around the other. “Mornin’, my Becks. Sumbody looks tired, I see. ‘m sorry I kept ya up last night with our texts.” 

“It’s okay,” I yawn, tipping my head towards his eyes that await mine. “I had lots of fun talking to you about all sorts of things after I got home.”

“So did I, bug, so did I,” he agrees, leaving a whispery kiss on my forehead with his lips that smell of coconut chapstick. Hmm, I wonder if they taste like coconut too, and the budding thought stirs up a craving I’ve had for his lips since I woke this morning. “Don’t be fallin’ asleep on me t’day, tho’. We have work t’ do.”

“Hey, you stole my line!” I giggle, staring up at him through my lashes doused in a few extra coats of mascara. 

“Seems we’re even then,” he grins with a cheeky wink, earning a nod from me. The dimples remain in his cheeks marked by the stubble that I’m coming to like more and more, a sure surprise to me. “Ya look gorgeous once again, bug. There’s jus’ sumthin’ ‘bout ya in yer lawyer getup that gets me goin’,” he chuckles, the last few words muffled against my cheek. A blush rises on my own and I move ever so slowly until his lips are a breath away from mine. 

“Now you know how I’ve felt all of these years,” I admit breathlessly, the mere sight of him stripping the breath from my lungs. 

“Do I now, li’l one?” he teases, brushing the back of his finger against my cheek. His cheeks soon match mine with a warm pink that fills my eyes before he envelopes my lips with his own, finally. They’re smooth and pillowy against mine, and within moments, I taste the coconut chapstick coating them. 

The notifying bleep! of the copier nudges at my ears, but the sound of a voice outside the door pulls me away from his lips. A glint sits in his eyes when I find the courage to meet them before turning around. I’ve put only a few feet in between us when I hear the click! of the door opening, and Rose’s sing-song voice. 

“Are we hiding from our job in the copier room, again? If you’re doing it, then it must be okay for me to do it too,” she jokes, her fiery waves tickling the jade fabric of her long sleeved blouse. 

“Hey, don’t be puttin' words in me mouth,” Harry scoffs. With a new glossy black folder I found on the supply shelf, I turn around to find Rose rolling her eyes at him. 

“I don’t know how you do it spending every minute of every work day with him. Four hours, give or take, a week spent with him is enough for me,” she sighs jokingly, her words wrapped up with a wink. An amused smile curls at the edge of my lips as I face her, nervously tapping the folder against my thigh. 

“I don’t know how I do it sometimes, either,” I sigh, throwing up my hands in a shrug. 

“Hey, would you two stop gangin’ up on me? Bloody hell, ‘m yer boss,” Harry exclaims in utter disbelief, but by now I hardly have to listen for the tell tale signs of sarcasm in his caramel voice. I know that they’re already there.

“Oooo, I’m so scared,” Rose whines, yanking a laugh from my lips as she dunks a hand into the open box of pens on a shelf. “I swear, Myles nicks all of the good pens when they come in, it’s no fair.” 

“Maybe you could trade him some for your Styles and Lawson coffee mug,” I suggest with another laugh bubbling within my voice, soon joined by Rose’s loud laugh.

“Good one, Becky,” she chuckles, her long gold earrings dancing with her movements. “Have I told you yet that I’m glad you hired her again?” she poses to Harry with a smile. When I follow her eyes, I’m rewarded with Harry’s glimmering pair. No longer is a smirk waiting in them for me, but something else entirely, and it’s that very sparkle he let loose for me just a couple days ago. 

“I think ya have, once or twice,” he hums softly. “Can’t blame ya tho’, she’s a riot, alright. Pretty happy meself fer bringin’ her back.”

Oh, Harry, the things you can do to me with just a few words. And I know that you’re well aware of just that. 

“Those mugs, though. I don’t know, Myles must have ordered a hundred of them when the firm was born, because I get one every year for Christmas without fail,” Rose mutters, taking apart the empty pen box before tossing it in the recycling bin. 

“Don’t look at me, I tell him tha very same things - that they’re cheesy, tha font isn’t even right, and that we need t’ order new ones if he’s so keen on givin’ ‘em out,” Harry argues, holding his hands up in defense. 

“Yeah, keep talking, Harry. As if you’re not drinking out of one this very second with that shit-eating grin on your face,” she responds, and a laugh sputters from my lips without my approval. Harry’s eyes cast over to me and he shakes his head at me with narrowed eyes, over his onyx colored mug. It’s all for show, and soon he’s winking at me. 

“Good luck with spending forty hours a week with this one. I think you’re stuck with him, you poor thing,” she remarks, clucking her tongue as she slaps the pen against her palm rhythmically. 

“Yeah,” I huff, dragging my eyes over to Harry with a smile absent from my face. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it either, I’m stuck with him for a few years at least.”

“You better get out while you still can!” she jests with faux wariness injected into her voice. Laughing, she slips out through the door as my eyes fall to the floor. I try to hide the amused sounds escaping my lips, but I find them growing louder as his footsteps sound in my ears. 

“So, yer ‘stuck with me,’ are ya now?” Harry rasps from behind me. I nearly rise off the floor when his fingers dance along my sides, eliciting surprised shrieks into the air. 

“Harry!” I exclaim, goosebumps forming along my neck when his breathy laughs coast over the skin. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

“‘m ratha happy ya are, y’know.”

“So am I. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I respond, spinning around to find his smirking lips once more. Unlike his, mine slowly plummet and too soon, I find his doing the same. 

“Neitha would I, bug, but . . how come ya don’t sound too sure o’ that?”

“I am, I don’t know what you mean,” I say, sheepishly. Not helping my case, my eyes fall to his hands. The typical rings don most of his long fingers dotted with dark hairs. I mingle my own with his by lacing ours together. 

“Y’know, ‘ve been able t’ tell when yer lyin’ fer years now, ya don’t have me fooled. You look away and don’t say much when yer lyin,’ they’re yer poker ‘tells’ . . .  Now, what’s tha matta, Becks?” he hums gently. A breath catches in my chest when the callused tip of his finger ghosts along my cheek, replacing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Becks?” he asks once more, and I hear it. I recognize it, because it’s the very emotion threatening to consume the happiness that’s been drenching my insides.

Fear. 

“How are we going to do this, Harry?” I question, finally lifting my eyes to his. “I don’t want this to sound bad, because I want this more than anything, so please don’t be upset. I-,” I try to explain, but he doesn’t give me the chance to continue. Unlike all of those times he stepped on my toes when I first met him, he’s doing a fine job of wishing those away with none other than his lips. 

His velvety aegean blazer is satiny beneath my fingertips when I gather the front of it into my palms, pulling him closer. I feel his smirk against my lips, but all too soon it’s not long enough and he’s pulling away. His dimples fill my eyes and next, those shiny green eyes consume my sight. 

“Jus’ like this, like we’ve been doin’. Behind closed doors, my love,” he mumbles, sealing the words with a soft peck. Those very two words send shivers down my spine, and zings of electricity right to my heart. “I wanna show ya off here, believe me I do, but at work I think ‘s betta if we keep it professional in front o’ e’rybody else,” he explains, and the second the horses leave the gates, I’m nodding along with him. A relieved sigh blankets the air in front of me when I’m graced with the knowledge that he too agrees. “I know it blows and it’ll be hard, but ‘s fer tha best, Becks. Outside o’ work and behind closed doors tho’, anythin’s game . . . Alright?”

“Yeah, I’m more than alright. I was thinking the same thing . . I’m here to be your mentee and to learn from you so I can one day, hopefully, be even half as good of a lawyer as you . . Dating you is just a bonus.”

Scarlet engulfs his golden skin while my favorite song in the entire universe tickles my ears, “I couldn’t agree mo’, li’l one. We got some fun in store fer us, that’s fer sure,” he rasps, pulling me against his front, and there, I melt like I did for the very first time, all those years ago.

I hold onto him tightly, never wanting to let him go. 

No, never again, will I. There’s nothing in this world that could ever take him away from me again, I won’t let it. 

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #chaptered fic #new chapter #the assistant #pa harry #hecky #lawyer!harry #boss!harry #ceo!harry #office romance #personal assistant #lawyer romance #lawyers #power couple #writing #my writing #narrymccartney writes #young adult

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

Learning Curve: A teacher!Steve/SD!Billy AU

Part I Part II Part III or read on AO3

"Alright, what's the next thing on the list?" Billy asks, leading his daughter down the aisle. He'd promised Max he'd do the shopping last night, so he's here, doing the shopping while Becca practices her reading.

Go team.

"Ummm," She frowns hard at the piece of paper in her hand. "cah-eh-ree-all? Carial?"

"Cereal." He corrects.

She looks up at him, confused. "That's not how it looks though."

Yeah… "Sometimes words sound different than they look. We just have to memorize which ones they are."

She wrinkles her nose. "That doesn't make sense."

"I know," He agrees, "but that's just how it is."

She makes a face but reaches up to grab some Cheerios. "Can I get Berry Kix?"

He knows Leslie was a total health nut, but he's never thought a little sugar would hurt her. They'd always got up early on his Saturdays and went to the local donut shop. It was their secret.

Now there's no reason to have secrets.

"Yeah, put em in the basket." He says, giving in.

If Leslie were to be believed, she hadn't had sugar in two years. She still died.

A little sugar won't kill her.

He's lost in his thoughts, doesn't see Becca staring at someone behind him, doesn't realize they aren't alone anymore.

Until…

"Billy?" Ice rushes through his veins as a familiar voice speaks behind him. "That you, son?"

Oh fuck.

His breath leaves him, hand tightening around the yellow basket handle. He doesn't want to turn around. He just wants to drop this basket of shit, pick up his daughter, and run.

But he knows that would cause a scene, and he doesn't want to do that. Doesn't want to scare Becca. She's already had enough fear in her life, she doesn't need him freaking the fuck out. So he makes a decision and slowly turns around, forcing out a monotone, "Dad."

Neil looks the same, he thinks. Maybe a bit more gray, but he still has the same face. That face that can go from neutral and soft to angry and hard in a split second.

"I didn't know you were back in town." He's saying, sharp eyes looking Billy up and down. "How long have you been here?"

"Awhile." He answers flatly, and god, Billy is an idiot.

Everything had been going too well, running too smoothly, so he'd gotten complacent. He should have known he'd see Neil eventually. They lived in the same goddamn town, but a part of him had just hoped he'd never run into the bastard.

But Billy has never been that lucky

And his eyes don't stay on Billy long, they land on Becca and he automatically pulls her behind him. He can feel how rigid she goes under his hand, like she knows he's worried. Like she knows he's putting himself between her and danger.

"Who do you have there?" Neil asks, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"It's none of your fucking business who she is." He says, voice dangerous and cold, surprising them both. He had never spoken to the man with such hostility before. He'd been too weak, too afraid to stand up to him.

But Billy didn't have something precious to protect back then, now he does. And it's pulling on the back of his jacket, quietly pleading, "Daddy. I want to go home."

His chest aches at how unsure her voice sounds. He wants to take her home too, but if he doesn't deal with this right here, right now, it could turn ugly for them later.

"I know, sweetheart." He tells her, "Daddy just needs to talk to him for a minute, ok? Then we'll go."

"So, you're a father now, huh? Susan never told me that I had a granddaughter." Neil looks like he's a bit hurt by the information.

Him. Hurt. Hah.

He doesn't have the fucking right to be hurt, to be upset with Billy for cutting ties and keeping his daughter a secret from him.

He doesn't have the right.

"Yeah, that's because we didn't tell her until she left you." He hisses. "And as far as I'm concerned, she's not your granddaughter. She is nothing to you."

He can tell that his dad is pissed the fuck off at that. But he can also tell that he's not going to do shit about it. Because he doesn't know Billy anymore. Doesn't know what he's capable of. He only knows that he's not the same terrified boy that packed a bag and split the minute he graduated.

But even though he doesn't know Billy anymore, old habits die hard. He still manages an aggressive, "Nothing?" And steps to the side, trying to peer behind Billy. "We're family. You wouldn't be heartless enough to keep her away from her own grandfather would you?"

He shoves ten years worth of anger into a heated glare. "I put half a country between her and her other one, I'd gladly put a world between you and her if I could."

He frowns. "Don't you think you're being a little bit dramatic, son?"

"Dramatic?" He balls his hand into a fist, an act that doesn't go unnoticed by Neil. "Come near my kid and I'll show you just how dramatic I can be."

There's a heavy tension quickly filling up the space between them, and Billy thinks this may come to blows after all. He's gearing up for it, making a quick plan of action when he realizes Becca's hands are no longer gripping his jacket.

Panic seizes him until he hears her calling out, "Mr Harrington!" and he turns to see said man at the end of the isle, putting a box of cereal into his cart.

"Hey there, Becca. What are y-." He starts to say but is cut off when she plows right into his stomach. He barely keeps his balance as he wraps his arms around her, eyes rising to meet Billy's before asking, "Is everything ok?"

Neil scoffs behind him. "Oh, won't let her say hi to me, but you let her run off and hug strangers?"

Billy barely holds back a nasty retort. He's being willfully dense. He heard her calling Harrington's name too, so he doesn't look at him as he responds, "He's not a stranger." Hasn't been a stranger since Billy rolled into Hawkins and tripped over his own feet trying not to out himself to the pretty boy.

And fuck, Billy is happy to see him. If only because he's saving him from throwing punches in the middle of the Mini Mart.

Becca says something to him, and while he can't hear what she said from this far away, he can see Harrington's frown. Then he straightens up, takes her hand and abandons his cart, coming to a stop beside Billy.

"Everything ok over here gentlemen?" He asks, back straight and authoritative.

So unlike high school Harrington.

But now he's a teacher.

Right.

Neil opens his mouth but Billy beats him to it. "Of course. He was just leaving."

The man's stubbled jaw ticks but he backs down. Apparently not liking his odds. "We'll catch up another time, then." He says, and then...walks away, towards the front of the store.

As soon as he's out of sight Harrington's posture slackens and he lets go of Becca's hand. "Um, wasn't that your dad?"

He sighs, nerves shot to hell, and rests a hand on Becca's head. "Unfortunately."

"What'd he want? Becca said something was wrong."

Said little girl leans back against him and he sighs again, because he really doesn't want to talk to Harrington about this. Doesn't want to talk about it in front of his daughters, doesn't want them to know how pathetic he'd been in the past.

But he has to say something. "He just wanted to know why I didn't tell him I was in town, " He admits, "and why I didn't tell him about Becca."

He pushes his glasses up where they'd slid down his nose a bit. "Why didn't you?"

"I haven't spoken to the bastard since graduation, Harrington. He's got no reason to be in my business."

He nods. "Fair enough."

And Billy knows they still haven't gotten everything off the list, that he should stay and maybe thank the guy, but he's mentally exhausted now. Max can guilt trip him later. Between Neil showing up and now Harrington, he really just wants to go home, crack open a beer and watch TV with his kid.

"Well, we'll let you get back to your shopping. I think it's time we get going." He says, gently tugging on his daughter's ponytail to get her to swat at him and stop shutting down. "What do ya think?"

"Yeah." She replies enthusiastically. "I want to go home and see Uncle Lucas." Then she acknowledges her teacher, "See you tomorrow, Mr Harrington."

And even though he's been giving Billy some unreadable looks, he's all smiles when he talks to Becca.

That shouldn't make him feel so damn warm, but it fucking does. Because of course it does. The universe hates him. Wants nothing more than to watch him suffer and pine over something he can't have.

Or should he say someone.

#harringrove #teacher steve au #single dad billy #kidfic #two idiots that will pine #theyre bad with their feelings ok #general neil hargrove warning for this part #he's a dick #but billy will absolutely throw hands now

[mlovesstories]

Sins of the Father Part 2

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Masterlist of Masterlists

Summary:  Jensen tells someone his secret.

Words: 5000

AN- GRAB THE TISSUES!

Series warnings: cussing, mention of recent rape, emotions, divorce, cheating, angry teenager, drug use

“Where’s Mommy? She’s not at Gram and Gramps’!”

“I know. She made some sad choices, so she had to move out.”

“She’s not bad!” Reese pushed her chair away from the table and ran to her room. Jensen sighed in frustration, but the dad let her be. He walked to the counter, pulled a large envelope toward himself, and opened it. Seeing Jensen’s wife’s signature on the back page, he signed under hers, put it back in the envelope with a stamp, and laid it on the outgoing mail pile.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, Jensen texted his lawyer that it was done. He was finally free. Sole custody. It was confirmed weeks later in court, Reese’s mom nowhere to be found.

“Seeing as Ms. Kelly Ann Ackles has not attended, and there are witnesses to her terrible actions, I grant you sole custody of your daughter, Mr. Ackles. Good luck to you both, sir.” The judge slammed down the gavel.

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

—————

Three Years Later

“You never let me do anything!”

“You have more freedom than almost any kid your age! What are you talking about?” Jensen dropped his keys and wallet onto the counter. Reese threw her backpack against the couch.

“I want Mom!”

“She wouldn’t let you get away with this attitude, so don’t play that with me!”

“She ain’t here because you kicked her out. I want her back. How come all my friends have a mom and I don’t?”

Jensen replied, “Pick up your stuff, get your homework out, and start it before you take this any farther.” He opened the fridge and retrieved a cold water bottle.

————-

Age 13

Jensen was walking down the promenade when he ran into someone.  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to- Kelly?” Jensen stopped suddenly at the outdoor mall. His face drained of color as he realized who she was.  

“Hi, Jay.” She looked away from him in embarrassment of her condition. Skinny, sunken cheeks and track marks showed her recent activities. “How is she-“

“Here, Dad. I got you some hot choc-“ Reese stopped when she saw her father talking to a lady. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” Reese looked the woman over. “I can get you something to drink if you would like,” the teen offered.

“No thank you, ma’am,” the woman turned and scampered away. Reese shrugged and then looked up at her Dad.

“She recognize your or something? Looks like a stoner.”

“Nope, just saying hi, I guess. Come on. Let’s go.”

————-

“Honey, can you come to the living room, please?” Jensen yelled through the Vancouver apartment.

“Yeah?” Reese yelled back.  She walked into the room.  

‘Come sit with me, we need to talk.”

“I’ve been good for Skye, Daddy.  I haven’t done anything-”

“No, no.  I know.  I need to tell you something.  It’s a grownup conversation, okay?”

The early teen tilted her head in confusion as she sat on the ottoman across from her father.  

“Okay…” 

“I met a girl, and I really like her.  Would you be okay if I went out on a date with her?”

“You’re replacing Mom?  She never did anything, and you kicked her out.  Now you want to do it again with someone else?” Reese growled.  Jensen took a deep breath.  

“So I guess that’s a no then,” he stated under his breath.

“Do whatever you want, Dad!  You already did!” His daughter stood and stormed back to her room.  Jensen heard the door slam.  He winced.  

JENSEN:

It went as well as I thought it would.  Sorry, Dee.  I think we need to wait.  Will you wait for me?

DANNEEL:

I was expecting that. We can talk about it later when you aren’t so stressed.  

JENSEN:

Thanks. I mean it.

Over the next few weeks, Jensen thought about how he would introduce Danneel to Reese.  Reese didn’t know who his potential girlfriend was, so he thought he could use that to his advantage.  

“Reese!  Let’s get a move on, slow poke!”

“We’re only going next door, Dad,” she smiled as she walked toward the front door.  Jared and Gen live a minute away.  “You need to chill, dude.”

“Whatever, kid.  Let’s go.  Time to watch some football.”

Jared and Gen greeted the two as they entered the house.  After getting settled in and comfortable on the couch, Reese heard the doorbell ring.  Jared walked to the door.  When he came back, a woman was with him.  

“You’re Danneel!  From One Tree Hill!  Hi, I’m Reese.” The girl stood to shake her hand.  

“Hi, Reese.  It’s nice to meet you.”  Danneel returned the gesture.  

“Can I hug you?” Reese grinned.

“Sure!  I like hugs!”

“Are you going to watch the game with us?” Reese looked at the woman expectantly..  

“Yes, I was hoping so.”

Jensen walked in.  

“Hey, Dee.” He sucked in a breath as he knew his daughter was watching.  

“Hi, Jensen.” She walked to him and gave him a hug.  “How are you? Your daughter is so delightful.”

“Eh, she’s alright,” he smirked.  

“Hey!” Reese threw a couch pillow at his face.  

“I’m kidding!  Yes, I am good, Dee.  Thanks.  Let’s watch this!” Jensen sat next to Reese with Danneel on the other side of him.  “Jared!  Gen!  Get in here!” He called for his friends.  Reese giggled.  She turned serious in realization.  

“Is Danneel the girl you were talking to me about?” Reese whispered into her dad’s ear as the game played loudly through the speakers.  

“Not now, Reese.  Let’s just enjoy the game without-”

“She’s cool.  I like her,” she beamed.  

“I’m glad, kiddo.” Jensen pulled her into his side and readjusted the blanket over her lap.  “I love you.”

__________

One Year Later

“I have to tell you something, and I don’t want you to ever, EVER, repeat this to Reese.”

“Woah, this just got serious, Jay,” she looked at him with concern.

“No one knows, not even Jared. But if we’re going to continue our relationship-“ he sniffled, “you need to know. Promise me you won’t tell her.”

“Jensen,” Danneel took his hand. “You’re scaring me.”

“Promise. It will ruin how she perceives everything, and I can’t have that.”

“Okay, I promise.” Danneel kissed his cheek. “What do you need to tell me?”

“It’s better if I show you,” Jensen slowly stood from the couch as he let go of Danneel’s hand.

He took a few steps away from her and unbuckled his belt.

“Uh. Jay? What are you-“

“Just look,” he pushed his pants down to his knees. “This is why I never want the light on when I’m in my room.” He pulled down his boxers and turned around.

Danneel gasped. Scars covered his rear. Thick lines scattered his mid-body. Jensen’s inner thighs were rough and irritated. His girlfriend could see that his skin never fully healed. Danneel put her hands over her mouth. He was about to pull his pants back up when she saw it.

“KAA. She branded you!” Danneel turned him so that she could see Kelly’s carved initials on his hip. She ran her fingers over the scar.

“Please, it’s okay, I’m okay.”

Danneel leaned back on the couch. Jensen pulled his pants up and buckled his belt.

“Kelly made me take it so that she wouldn’t destroy my name. I never did anything. I know that now, but I felt I had. We had to stay together for Reese. At least that’s what I thought. Once she cheated, I thought that was my opportunity to get out. But I’m okay.”

Danneel stood and stepped onto the couch so that she was taller than Jensen and wrapped her arms around him. Jensen quietly put his face into the crook of her neck and smelled her calming perfume. Danneel felt wetness on her chest.

He’s crying. He never cries.

“I’m going to find her-“

“No need. Life hasn’t been good to her. She got her own justice. But you can’t tell Reese. Ever. I don’t want her to hate her mom. It’s not Reese’s fault, and although Kelly used Reese as a bargaining chip, she will never know this was all her mom’s doing. To Reese, her mom was her hero. Don’t ever say anything. Please,” he whispered as they continued to hug.

“But Kelly ruined your lives and Reese has had resentment against you since-“

“I can live with that as long as Reese is safe,” Jensen backed up and guided Danneel off the couch.

“Can I have the full story now? I’m not trying to be pushy, but it seems like there is a lot that you are still working through.”

“Babe, it took a lot for me to tell you that.”

“Then it can wait.” She smiled.  “I love you, Jay.”

Jensen embraced her.  

“I love you too.”

_____________

“You’ve been a mess, babe.  What’s going on with you?” Danneel pulled Jensen aside during Reese’s birthday party.

“Later.  I promise.”  

Danneel saw the scared look on his face.  

“Go take a breather.  You’re terrified.  Do you want me to get Jared?”

“No.  I’m going to go to my room for a sec.  Cover for me.” Jensen scooted by her into the house.  

“Where’s he going?” Gen walked up to Danneel.  

“Bathroom, maybe?”

“You having fun?” Gen asked.

“Yeah, the party turned out better than I thought.  I’m so happy that Reese and I get along the way we do.  She let me do this for her.”

“DEE!”

“Hey, girl!  So… do you like your party?”

“Yes, thank you!” Reese grabbed the woman around the waist.  

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Where’s my dad?”

“He’ll be right back.  Had to run inside,” Danneel combed a few strands of hair behind Reese’s ear.  “You really do like the party?  I did okay?”

“It’s amazing.  I’ve never had a party like this before.  Dad’s not good at this stuff.”

“Well, you’re his princess, and you should feel like a princess on your day, so I’m glad I could help,” Danneel rubbed the girl’s arms.  

“You did a great job, Danneel,” Gen chimed in.  “Happy birthday, Reesy!” She embraced the birthday girl.  

“Thanks! Oh!  One of my friends is here! Bye!” Reese scampered off to greet her best friend.  

A few hours later, everyone had left and Reese was in bed.  

So, mister,” Danneel started.  Jensen looked at her.  “What’s up with you tonight?”

“Her birthday is always hard.  She doesn’t know it, but Kelly hurt me on her birthday.  Every year.  Really bad.  It was as if Kelly was going to hurt Reese, so I took it for her, I guess.  She was a psychopath.  She played mind games to gain some sort of power over me.  Kelly did it to a few others too, but I never want Reese to know that-”

“She hurt you?” Reese walked into her dad’s bedroom.  “What?”

“Nothing, baby.  Just telling Danneel how much I’m so glad your mom gave me you.  Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Nightmares.  Been getting that a lot lately.  I don’t know why.”

Jensen pulled his daughter into him on his bed.  Danneel scooted over so that all three of them could fit.  

“I’m sorry.  Can I do anything to help?” Jensen stroked the back of her hand.  

“Sing?”

“Sure, baby.  Let’s go back to your room.”

When Jensen came back to Danneel, he sighed a breath of relief and shut the door.  

“Anyway, her mom always chose to beat me extra hard on those days.  I never understood why.  I thought it was always something I had done.  Turns out, she was just a selfish woman who got off on making people feel like crap.”

“What made her think she could just mistreat you like that?”

Jensen climbed underneath the covers.  Danneel took her ring off and put it on the side table.  

“She- she told me that she would take Reese away from me and I would never see her again.  She had proof that I was a terrible father, according to Kelly.  She also saw a picture of fans who had gotten a little too close.  I backed away, of course, and told the fans to move on, but every time I turned around, it was always something.  Kelly told me that she had a lawyer and was going to take everything away from me if I didn’t do exactly as she said.  So I did…” He reached for Danneel.  The sobs wracked through him and shook the bed.  “Kelly made me do stuff that I didn’t want to.  I told her I didn’t want to, but she did it anyway.  She thought of it as a fun sex game, but even when I told her no, she continued.  I was restrained, so I couldn’t- “ he stopped himself.  “Kelly used it against me, knowing full well what she did.”

“Jensen,” Danneel ran her fingers through his hair as he choked through his sobs.  “I’m here.  That won’t ever happen again.  I will not be her.  I’m your girlfriend, and partners don’t do that to each other.  Just sit here with me.” Danneel stroked his back.  

“Tissues?”

“I’ll get some in a second,” she soothed him.  

“I’m a guy, I can’t come out and announce that a female raped me, Dee.  She shoved her advantage in my face.”

“I believe you, Jensen.  I’ll always believe you.”

As he stopped crying and wiped his face with his hand, Danneel reached toward the ground and grabbed the tissues off of the floor next to the bed.  

“Here,”  she put them on his lap.  “You didn’t deserve that, you know that right?”

“I do now.  Took a long time though,” he whispered.  

“Good.  You are my king.  I would never-”

“I know.  I do.  Like I said, her birthday is always hard.”

“No one knows?”

“Nope.  I showed you because, well, obvious reasons.  I didn’t want you to freak out when you saw it.”

“You’ve kept that to yourself this whole time?” Danneel continued to stroke his back as his head laid in her lap.  

“I’ve been seeing a therapist since it happened.  Everybody thinks I go just to keep myself in check.”

“Shit, Jensen.”

“I’m sorry you’re involved with another statistic, a victim,” Jensen scooted away from Danneel.

“Get back here, Ackles,” she growled.  Danneel put her hands on his arms to bring him against her again.  “You don’t get to think like you’re a victim anymore.  I love you.  I don’t care what she did, you’re mine now, and you are not a victim any longer.  Kelly isn’t here, and she doesn’t dictate your life. You do.”

“Thanks, Dee.”  Jensen adjusted so that he was more comfortable against Danneel.  The wife clapped her hands, and the lights went off.  “Good night, my queen.”

________

“Hey, Reese!” Danneel greeted her stepdaughter as she walked into the living room the next morning after her party.  “Looks like you slept well,” she laughed, ruffling the girl’s hair.  

“I’ll be taller than you are soon, don’t make me do it back!” Reese giggled.  

“Hey, munchkin,” Jensen followed his daughter into the room and kissed Danneel on the cheek.  Turning back to Reese, he planted a kiss on the top of her head.  “You’ll always be shorter than me, the guys are all taller than the girls in this family,” Jensen smirked.  

“You just watch me break that streak, shorty,” Reese offered a smug smile.  

“Wow, you’re confident!” He pulled her into him.  “Did you sleep better after you fell asleep again?”

“Yeah, thanks for helping me.  I’ve just been stressed for whatever reason.  I’ve been thinking about Mom lately.”

Danneel’s eyes went wide, and she glanced at Jensen when Reese made her comment.  Jensen shook his head ‘no‘..  

Since the three of them were all together, they spent the day in Austin.  Walking the swap meet, they tired themselves out.  Reese exited the shopping area with bags of new clothes and accessories.  

“Remind me to give her five bucks for her birthday this year,” Jensen laughed.

“I heard that, Daddy,” she nudged him.  

“Abusive!” Jensen gasped playfully.

“Ouch.  I think I got some mosquito bites,” Reese almost dropped her bags to scratch her legs.  

“Don’t scratch,” Danneel reprimanded.  ‘I’ll get you some lotion stuff when we get home.”

“It’s so itchy!”

“Okay, ladies.  Let’s go home.”

When they returned to their house, Reese dropped the items in her room.  She ran down the stairs to get anit-itch lotion from Danneel.

“Dee?” Reese walked into the kitchen and saw her dad sitting at the table with Danneel applying lotion to the inside of his leg.  “You got some too-  What the hell is that?” Reese ran over to her dad at the sight of the scars on his inner thighs.  

“Shit.”

“What is that?  Have you always had that?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart.  I have a skin condition,” he started, but his startled face made Reese think otherwise.  

“Your skin looks rough.”

“I’m okay.  I got it when I was-”

“I wasn’t dreaming when you said she hurt you.”

Jensen pulled down his shorts to where the hems rested on his knees.  

“No, baby.”

“Jen, she needs to know.  It’s gone too far.  You’re about to lie to her.  You can’t.”

“What?” Reese turned from Danneel to Jensen, his face ghostly.  “What did she do and where is she so I can-”

“Nope.  Just relax.  Dee, can you give her some lotion?”

Danneel -put some more lotion on her fingers to apply it to Reese’s skin when Reese moved out of the way.  

“What is going on?  I’m scared, Daddy,” she looked at him, begging for information.  

‘You and I are going to talk later,’ Jensen growled at Danneel..

“Do you want me here for this?” His wife looked to him.  

“Yeah,” Reese answered, taking Danneel’s hand that didn’t have the lotion on it.

“Sit down,” Jensen said, taking deep breaths.  

“Jensen, take it slow.  You set the pace.  We’ll just listen, right, Reesy?” She pulled Reese’s leg up onto the bench seat and smoothed some lotion over the mosquito bite.

“Yeah, it’s okay, Daddy.  Don’t be afraid.”

“I haven’t ever told you this, and it’s for a myriad of reasons.  You will probably hate me more than you already do, but I guess since you’re older, I can be more honest.” Reese squinted her eyes at him. “When you were born, your mom thought she saw me being inappropriate and cheating on her with some fans.  They got too close, and I told them to go away.  She never moved on, though.  She always held it over my head.  Among other things. I’d never leave you or your mom like that. I hope you believe me, sweetness.” Reese nodded.

“So, she said she would take you away from me for a list of issues that she had with me.  The only way she wouldn’t is-”

“Jay…” Danneel warned.

“...if she beat me up.”

“What?” Reese’s eyebrows nearly met her hairline.  “She hit you?”

“That part of the conversation needs to wait until you’re older, but yes.  That’s what you saw on my leg. But I promise, I’m okay.”

“You got hurt to protect me?”

“Basically.”

“I think you need to show her the other thing, Jay.”

“No.  Maybe when you’re older.  The main thing I want you to know is that I love you, and I didn’t mean to hurt you when she left.”

“Why did she leave?”

“She was being controlling with me, and I didn’t want you to be under her control too.  Mom was already manipulating me, I didn’t want her to do it to you.”

“Dad.” Reese whined.  “You would have tried to work it out if it was just that.”

“Baby, you don’t want to know.  Please don’t make me tell you.”

“She was cheating, right?”

Danneel and Jensen’s mouths opened a bit.

“How did you know?” Jensen reached for the hand that wasn’t entwined with Danneel’s.  

“I didn’t know if at the time, but this guy would come over when you weren’t home.  He said he was a friend.  I was supposed to call him Uncle-something.  I don’t remember his name.  I thought it was weird, but I was a kid, so I didn’t know.”

“That’s right, you were a kid.  So you will not blame yourself.  This was not your doing, you hear me, kiddo?”

“But she hurt you so that I could stay!” Reese bursted into tears.  “That’s not fair!”

“Don’t do that.  It’s not your fault, sweetie,” Danneel tried to calm her down.

“You never told me any of this even when I was mad at you because I thought it was your fault that she left.  If I would have known-”

“You would be so emotionally compromised because of what she did.  You would have second-guessed everything about your life, and it wasn’t worth that.  We are safe.  That’s what matters.  I’d rather you hate my guts and be safe than be physically abused by her and still love me,” Jensen sniffled.  “I did all that because you didn’t need to have a more messed up childhood.  It was hard enough.”

Reese sucked in a breath that turned into a sob.  

“I know what you’re thinking.  Your mom was so good to you,  Don’t ever dismiss that. She just… struggled.”

Reese’s long and lanky teenage body crawled into his lap.  Danneel wiped tears from under her own eyes.

“She used me to hurt you!  Your skin is messed up because she- that BITCH!”

Jensen sighed and stroked her hair.  He let her spew out insults at her mother as she cried.  

“I love you.  I always have,” Jensen kissed his daughter as she leaned into him.  

“I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know.  And I wanted it that way.  The rest of the story can be told later.  Just know that you are the best thing that has happened to me.”

For the rest of their day, the three talked and cried.  

“I need you to go to bed, okay?  It’s late and we had a hard day today.”

“No…” Reese whined.  

“Yes, come on,” Jensen tried to pull her from her spot on the couch.  She resisted, and Reese pulled him back down.  

“I need you to make me feel better,” Reese said with a whisper.  “Stay. I’ll sleep, I promise.”

“Okay.  Okay.  Let’s get comfy.”

Danneel went into the hall closet to get some pillows and blankets.  

Jensen and Reese fell asleep an hour later, and Danneel slowly walked up the stairs to the master bedroom.  

_________

“I finally told her.”

“Wow.  I guess that’s what we are talking about today, then.” The psychologist narrowed his eyes on his patient.  

“Danneel opened the door to it because I was about to make up a story.”

“Are you angry with her about that?”

“At first, yeah.  But she’s really good at keeping me in check.  The conversation went as I thought it would.  I’m glad most of it is out in the open.”

“Most?”

“Reese doesn’t need to know that Kelly raped me.”

“Ah.  So she knows her mom hurt you, but not exactly how,” the doctor confirmed.  

“Yeah.  Kelly beat my ass some kind of punishment implement.  I’ve got stripes on me. That’s not something I want her to know.  She’s a teenager. No.”

“Understandable, and I think that’s developmentally appropriate.”

“She’s doing okay.  I can tell she’s angry though.  Reese has been spending more time with me.  She’s never been that way, giving me hugs and wanting to be around me.”

“Sounds like things are going well, considering.”

“Would you talk to her?” Jensen looked at his psychologist.  

“I can.  I was going to ask if you would feel comfortable with that.”

“I’ll ask her.  I think she might be into it,” the dad put his head in his hands.  

“You did good, Jensen.”

“Yeah.  Father of the year,” Jensen stated sarcastically.  

“Get up,” the doctor startled him.  

Jensen sat up.

“What?”

“Stand up.”

“Okay…”

“We are going to keep talking, but you will stand up until we are done,” the therapist took his notebook off the side table and put it in his lap.  “Now, do you think Reese hates you?”

“No, not now.”

“Do you think she has confidence in you as her dad?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Jensen shrugged.  

“Say it.  Yes or no.”

“She does, especially lately.”

“You’re valuable to her, right?”

“I guess.”

“Let’s say she does.  Say it.”

“I’m valuable to her.”

“I’m confident in my ability to take care of her,” the doctor asked Jensen to repeat the mantra.

“I’m confident in my ability to take care of her.  This is stupid, doc.  I’m not any of that.”

“You are not allowed to use the word stupid in here, you know that.  Now, I am having you say these things because you WILL feel that way.”

“Whatever, it won’t work.”

“I had you stand up so that I was on a lower level than you. It builds confidence whether you realize it or not. It’s a power stance. You can do this. I get that this is hard.  Therapy is hard, but you will not treat yourself like this.  Reese will suffer if you do.  Homework assignment for this week-”

“I hate homework,” Jensen groaned.

“Here are a list of sentences that I want you to write in your notebook. Write each of them ten times.  Preferably each in the same sitting.  Got it?” The doctor handed him a list.

“A punishment?”

“Only if you look at it that way.  Think of it as you are doing it to help Reese.  That may change your perspective.” The therapist stood up.  “Have a good evening, Jensen.”

“Yes, sir.”

__________

“I’m sorry,” Reese leaned away from Danneel, her sobs quieting.

“You are allowed to be emotional.  She hurt your dad.  She made choices that messed up your family.  Sure, you’re older now, but that doesn’t make it any easier.  I promise that you can come to me with this stuff.  And I will NEVER hurt your dad like that.”

“Promise me you won’t tell him that I get sad?”

“I’m not going to lie.  If he asks, I have to tell him.  Lies can destroy families.  We can’t have that again.”

“I understand.  I need to get back to my homework now.  Thanks, Dee.”

When Jensen called Danneel that night, he asked how Reese had been doing.  She answered that the day had been rough.  

“I’m sorry.  I wish I could be there and not put this all on you.”

“She trusts me, it’s okay.  We’re good, Jay.  I love her, and I love you.  If I can help, then I will.”

“You’re amazing.  Thank you, Dee.”

“I know.” She giggled, elevating herself.

“Haha, very funny.  I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“See you soon, babe.”

________

On the plane, Jensen wrote some of his sentences.

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

“What’s that?” Jared looked over at the notebook.

“The doc gave me homework. I thought I was done with homework when I left high school,” Jensen laughed.

“It’s for your own good,” Jared supported.

“I know. I’m writing these things as if it’s true, and it’s not.” Jensen showed Jared the page.

“But if you keep telling yourself that it will be a certain way, it will. It’s a paradigm shift. You’ll get there. Don’t give up yet. You just started. How many do you have to do?”

“Ten per sentence. There are four I’m supposed to copy. This is just the first one. It’s not that many, actually. Just takes a while.”

“It’s not ‘cause you’re in trouble. That’s why it’s not that many. Just enough to get you thinking.”

I am a good father. I am confident in my ability to parent Reese.

—————

One Year Later:

“How come I didn’t notice his scars before, Dee? I could have helped him or-“

“Stop. This is why he didn’t tell you. Jensen didn’t want you to blame yourself.  I know it’s a lot. It’s not your fault. Say it. It’s not my fault.”

“But-“

“Nope.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Thank you.”

“But it feels like it is,” Reese sighed.

“I can imagine. It’s a common thing for kids to blame themselves for stuff they have no control over. That’s normal.”

“Oh.  Do you know what happened to my mom?”

“That is a question for your father,” Danneel squirmed in her seat.  

“Dee?” Reese turned to face her step-mom.  “My grandparents kicked her out, and I didn’t ever see them again.  Did she go back there, and that’s why I never saw them?”

“Talk to your dad,” Danneel answered.  “I’m here, but that is something he needs to tell you.” 

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#supernatural #supernaturalau #mlovesstoriessinsofthefather #mlovesstories #Supernatural RPF #jensen x daughter

[chimchimsauce]

Kamryn is (pronounced Cam-rin) a pretty common name where I'm from, but i always thought this spelling was so pretty. Along with Yasmine, Rie (ree-eh), Kai, Elias, and Killian.

Thank you for the suggestions!!! 😊

[shelikesthosefunnypeople]

Pls explain more abt the ancient history thing b I’m very interested

Hello anon!

I know this was sent in months ago and I should have replied to it then but I’m a master procrastinator and life has been strange (before coronavirus kicked off I was in the middle of preparing for exams). Anyway, I’m happy to answer this.

I made a post in the distant past, basically saying that I think there is a view that history before 1800 is somehow less intellectual and that this is rooted in sexism. That post is here. Allow me to explain and please bare in mind that this is all just my opinion and is based off my experiences.

Apologies for the length.

Firstly, I love history. I’m a complete geek for it. I think it’s important, interesting and with a bit of luck I’ll be studying it at university soon. Therefore, this isn’t a post where I try to claim that actually history before 1800 is superior... because that’s just dumb. History is history and while historians can have personal preferences over which period they find most interesting, that doesn’t make that period “better” than any others. Literally. I mean, everything leading up to the present day didn’t happen in isolated, distinct boxes and all of it is useful to understanding how modern society has developed.

It makes sense that there is a general interest in “modern history”. After all, it is interesting and we have more information about it thanks to technological developments. The 20th century was a time of massive change if you compare 1900 to 2000 - although, I’m sure it’s easy for us to see the difference, seeing as the 20th century wasn’t so long ago in the grand scheme of things and many people who are alive today lived through a part of it. I’m sure people living in the early part of any century probably thought (if they had access to history) that the start and end of the previous century were hugely different. Nevertheless, I agree that the 20th century is quite profound in this respect, at least at the moment. In 100 years, who knows?

The 19th century also offers us a lot more remnants than its predecessors and I think culturally is still viewed as important. Some people have a rose tinted view of the 19th century. In Britain, I’d say it is seen by those of a certain political persuasion (check out Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg) as a time of peak Britishness(TM) and nationalistic pride... although that narrative is simplistic and disregards the suffering of the colonies and indeed the working classes of Britain, who had to prop up all this “greatness”. Anyway, I’m sure if you found a stuffy 19th century bloke, he would tell you how his society’s morality has gone to complete shambles and that he yearns for a bygone era that only really exists in his mind. I guess that’s just what some people always do. Conservatives, eh?

I’ll actually get to the point now.

At my college, there were two history courses available: modern (involving subjects such as the Russian Revolution and Britain from about 1950-2007) and pre-modern (involving subjects such as the crusades and the English Reformation). I took the latter course and was in a class of 18, where there were 13 girls and 5 boys. Generally, the modern history classes were weighted in the opposite way, which simply suggests that at my particular college with my particular year group, boys had a preference for modern history and girls for pre-modern. I would argue that this preference appears to be more widespread in general, but that’s not definite.

The fact that this difference existed is not the problem. The problem is what people perceived this difference to mean.

I was told by a boy (not a nice boy, so not a representation of everyone) who was studying history that the course I was taking was “the gay version”. That, of course, is a puerile insult for 2020 and highlights his maturity level - all history is very, very gay and if you take issue with that then I don’t know what to tell you. Get your head out of your arse, maybe? But anyway... why did he feel superior about studying a different bit of history?

It wasn’t just him. A (male) teacher once told me that the history course I had chosen wasn’t as useful as the other one and that the only use it had was that I could apply transferable essay writing skills to my other subjects. Which was bollocks, might I add. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t a history teacher.

So, where were these views coming from? Why was the English Reformation - which was basically 16th century Brexit - seen as lesser than the Russian Revolution? The obvious argument one could make is that events that have happened more recently are more important and have more of an impact today. However, without the events of the years before them, would these events have happened either? Does the Church of England not still exist? Do we not have a statue of Richard the Lionheart in Westminster (because we like giving statues to tossers, apparently)?

In my opinion, the answer to this odd hierarchy of time periods lies in gender socialisation and the propensity of people to view history in the same way they view fiction. We know that the traditional male/female gender socialisation patterns are different: boys are socialised to be “tough”, “leaders”, “aggressive” etc. whilst girls are socialised to be “submissive”, “friendly”, “polite” etc. This is hopefully changing now but inbuilt, subconscious biases about the genders and what quantifies masculinity and femininity are still around. There is the stereotype of boys being interested in war due to the toys they were given to play with. Surprise, surprise - warfare in the 20th century alone was vastly different to anything that had come before it and, as I said, due to technology we have more archived about it. I’m not suggesting that only boys are interested in historical war - again, that’s a stereotype. Anyone can be interested in war, 20th century or otherwise. Despite this, I’m not going to pretend there still aren’t those guys who get waaaay into warfare and that their interest and knowledge in history is largely confined to that subject.

And that’s fine! You know, as long as you don’t start worshipping Hitler or anything equally creepy. People aren’t experts on every little bit of history and are allowed to have stereotypical interests.

Yet, that still doesn’t explain completely why “modern history” is viewed as more intellectual, just because maybe it appeals slightly more to men (apart from the obvious that anything men like is viewed as superior in some way).

As historical societies are notably different to our own - especially on the surface - and because there is so much historical fiction that seeks to romanticise it, it is not massively surprising that many people do see history as an extension to fiction. It’s gone, we live in the now, lots of people don’t even believe history matters. The fantasy genre has a habit of adopting historical (often medieval) settings for its tales. It’s an obvious example but Game of Thrones was a retelling of the Wars of the Roses, amongst other things. I think when fantasy is applied to history it makes it seem even less real than it may already and this can lead to it being taken less seriously (though please do watch Horrible Histories or Blackadder and take the piss out of all time periods because humans of every age have been fallible). Of course, it is far easier to romanticise and play around with times that are further from our own because they are further detached and therefore more fantastical. This plays into post-1800 being seen as more “real” and “intellectual”.

Some men who wish to keep women out of the historical circle accuse them of only being interested in history because of “romance” or “fancy dresses” - princesses and knights and fairytales. This is more a low down problem with internet trolls than actual, published historians but the issue still stands. If you view “pre-modern” history through this veil of fiction then it must seem rather childish compared to the stark brutality of the World Wars and the political rise of the New Right in the West. However, conversely, it could also be argued that the nationalism and legend attached to recent warfare makes it equally comparable to a story. Not a happy story but then, Game of Thrones isn’t a happy story either.

I don’t think anyone serious about history actually believes that the romantic, fantastical elements attached to any historical periods are 100% true. Hopefully, most people don’t see them as proof that being interested in a certain period makes you better than someone who is interested in another period. Any period can be romanticised, including the “modern” one - Titanic, anyone? Not to mention the frilly view we have of the Victorians (although that’s not silly because of the Britishness(TM), remember). Actually, using history in fiction and even making fiction about history isn’t even a bad thing and I certainly encourage it. I just think that the truth shouldn’t be conveniently forgotten by those with weird superiority complexes who think that because The Tudors was all about love trysts and fine clothing, the entire period is “girly” and a write off.

What am I saying amongst this rambling mess? The next time you see a girl going through her Ancient Egypt phase, don’t roll your eyes. Not if you wouldn’t do the same when you see a boy with an interest in WW2 tanks. Whichever way people come to their interest in the past is valid (apart from the creepy fascist worshipping I mentioned). A lot of things in our world are gendered when they shouldn’t be; history should be equally open to all and although there is a focus on the past 200 years (just look at the uni modules on offer), that doesn’t mean that if you are interested in the years before, your interest isn’t valid enough.

I hope I’ve managed to explain myself properly and have gotten through how gender plays into this sufficiently. I know this is a very niche thing to have an opinion on and I’d like to stress again that this is just my opinion and you are free to disagree with me. That said, if you send me hate then don’t expect a proper response.

Thanks for the ask!

#history #modern history #sexism #little bit of #homophobia #random ramblings #ask #anon #sorry that got a bit long #watch me badly articulate thoughts

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

been feeling down lately. have any good book recommendations?

I'm sorry you're feeling down, luv. I'm not much of a reader these days, but there are a couple books I fall back on when I'm feeling kind of melancholy, and I hope they help.

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman is the first to come to mind. I actually haven't fully seen the Amazon series yet, but I can assure you that book is amazing. I always turn to that one whenever I'm feeling more pessimistic about the state of the world, as it possesses enough bizzare humor to keep me rolling my eyes whilst also enjoying the complexities of the plot. The footnotes scattered throughout also add another level to this book that you really don't want to miss. I'm not sure if you've ever read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, but the writing styles are on very similar wavelengths.

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck is one that I started a few days ago. I happened to see it at my local library, and recalling a friend's when she was going through her own depression spell, I decided to give it a whirl. Best decision ever. The very first sentence had me huffing out a laugh, and it's proving to be a fast, fun read. Not sure yet how it's gonna end, but I'm enjoying the ride.

The Hobbit has always been good for a fun adventure, and is my preference over the sad ending of The Lord of the Rings trilogy. I- I will never be over that scene, and I doubt I ever really will be. I'm tearing up just thinking about it, honestly... But yes. For a fun adventure, I absolutely will always recommend Toilken. Even if you've seen the films, you don't want to miss out on this book.

If you've never read Percy Jackson and the Olympians, I wholeheartedly recommend those as well. It's rare for me to want to go back and reread a book more than a couple times, but Riordan's stories have such a charm to them that I always find something new to love with each reread. Percy as a character is easy to connect with, and the stories meld the whimsy of the classic Greek epic to the contemporary setting that you may start to almost imagine seeing something just past the Myst.

Pirates by Celia Rees is undoubtedly my favorite book, and I will always recommend that one to people. It- I don't want to give away too much, but it does deal with some heavier themes, but the two female protagonists and the adventure they undertake side-by-side across the seas has earned its own special place in my heart. The story ebbs and flows, but it ends on a highly optimistic note that always gives me a sense of hope that lingers long after finishing.

Some others that come to mind that I would recommend would be Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, following the story of an older protagonist both inspire and learn from her much younger friend on a whirlwind journey in pre-WWII London, Lady Grace: Conspiracy, which follows a Lady-in-Waiting and part-time sleuth for Queen Elizabeth I as she dodges romance, murder, and treason, Fairest, a tale set in the same universe as Ella Enchanted, with a protagonist who often isn't what she seems, and Hoot, which somehow always makes my heart twitch in the optimism that there are people out there like our hero who can inspire others to help make a difference.

Unfortunately, like I said, I'm not actually a huge reader anymore. I do skim a lot of short stories and peruse many a poem these days, but for actual books- Eh?

But I do fondly remember reading most of these, or are in the process of enjoying some of these, and I hope they can bring a little light in the darkness for you, too.

Thanks for the ask, Anon. Hope you feel better soon. Happy reading! <3

#books #book #anon asks #anonymous asks #good omens #the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy #the subtle art of not giving a f*ck #the hobbit #the lord of the rings #percy jackon and the olympians #pirates #miss pettigrew lives for a day #lady grace: conspiracy #fairest #ella enchanted #hoot #reading recommendations #hope these help lovely

[reawakening]

a face of melting snow

[] or, don’t let the bastards grind you down

i’m not the same. i’ll never be the same again. there’s no hope for that. how do i get going again, now that i am standing still? how do i act like this, speak like that, look like this, sound like that? when i don’t know who or what i am anymore? how can i? after everything? how can it all feel so different?

i’m afraid i’ve lost my way.

i’m already in my grave.

jolyon, what a fantastic death i missed…

it’s done now.

i’m no longer the prince of the reef.

now i am the murderer of cayde-6.

just what i always wanted. to be rid of that goddamn title. prince of the reef. what bullshit. hah, oops, i swore. so what. no, wait, so fucking what. think i care about that now? i’m a murderer, not the prince. that was about as good as a title as riven of a thousand voices. an even bigger load of bullshit, riven of a thousand goddamned voices. wait, what about the taken king? another favourite of mine. ooh, now i am being sarcastic, too. wotcher, i’ll be smoking and downing a pint, maybe having a fuck, too. i’ll be uldren sov, no, uldwyn rees-davies, that nasty boy. that dirty, nasty davies boy. oi, by the way, his name was oryx. goddamn oryx. she started off life as aurash, for fuck’s sake. the god-king, the taken king. get over your-fucking-self.

guess you can’t now. since you’re dead.

since the guardians killed you.

i fucking hate you for that. sure, i hated you already, orry – mind if i call you orry? not that i give a damn. ‘sides, you’re dead. i keep forgetting. actually, that’s not true. i can’t forget. wish i could. but i can’t. i remember every detail. every sight, every sound, every smell, everything right down to how the button for the shields fell so easily beneath my fingertip. i fucking hate you for that as well. but, i digress. i already hated you, orry, for murdering my sister. ripping her from me over a bit of goddamn posturing, some grand guignol on your part. that must have been a proud moment for you, orry. but you couldn’t stop there. you had to add the insult to the injury by making it so the only place i could be safe was with the people who would hate me the most. sending my galliot crashing down in the shit hole desert between the vex and the cabal where the only friendly face was the eliksni. didn’t get much better when i got to be the kell of the house of kings but...

...something good eventually did come of it...

but don’t think i am about to thank you for any of it. you’re dead now, they killed you, and i am glad about that.

see what you’ve done to me?

i am happy that you are dead.

i am happy that they killed you and that they danced when they were done.

you sick fuck. i can see the grin on your death’s head mask of a ruined face. you’re probably laughing amongst the flames, aren’t you? laughing your arse off at me down in hell.

it would help if i believed in all that. heaven, hell, purgatory, whatnot. not sure if i do. no, pretty sure i don’t, come to think of it. haven’t seen much evidence of it, not during my time on this miserable mortal coil. i’d like to think that my dad is someplace lovely, where he can do and go wherever and whenever he wants to, where there is no pain, no suffering, where there is no sadness. i’d like to think that. but then, he would have been able to watch me from on high, right? he would be able to see me get my arse beat by the cabal, get my arse beat by the eliksni, see me get more bitter and angrier with each passing day, until he could see me graduate from the prince-who-lived to the man-who-murdered.

he could see me cock up and let the fucker who would cage the traveler, who would set the city to ruin, the city he loved, slip pass without a warning to the vanguard. see me fuck up again and get fikrul and so many eliksni murdered. see yet another fuck up as i murder cayde-6 with my own hand…as petra...i thought...not her...

damn it.

damn it.

damn it.

damn me.

no, i don’t mean that.

yes, i do.

i don’t know what i mean.

i am changed.

i am not the prince you once knew, petra. i am not a person you should want to know.

i’m so glad mother can’t see me here.

i had a soul that was ripe for the taking...i’ve been rendered broken and breaking...oh, dear, now it sounds like i’ve really gone off my nut. sorry, jolyon. i don’t mean to frighten you. don’t let this foul mood of mine affect you. 

i know it’s been rather unfair of me, placing my mood swings on you. you’ve carried the greatest burden, though, petra. for that i am grateful, even though i have come off in the past as an unthankful bastard. but what have i told you, petra? don’t let the bastards grind you down. nolite te bastardes carborundorum. okay, that was a pathetic attempt at latin. bet you never dreamt i would even come that close, did you? then again, maybe you did. you always had more faith in me than i had more faith in me.

here, maybe this will surprise you.

i have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil.

for the longest time, my dreams had an element of pain. everything in my life was tainted red by it, made the darkest shade of crimson. everything except you, petra. you were the purest thing in my world. my humanity, my miracle, my north star, my philosopher’s stone.

that’s when i first loved you. when we went seeking the hebridean faeries, the cŵn annwn i was convinced i saw in the divalian mists, all to bring back to mara as her prized hounds? you, me, and jolyon. the trio. god, we were so young. children, really, doing the work of heroes of old. you, with your knowledge and early wisdom. jolyon, with his loyalty and his bravery despite his fears. me...with this foolish arrogance and little else.

i wonder if the traveler would choose...him again now that he’s dead. he’s the better man. he’s worth more dead than i am alive. andal, i...i killed him, you know. i didn’t want to. it—it’s not the way that i thought it would be. i don’t feel the way i thought i would feel. i don’t...feel.

i don’t feel anything, andal.

i’m scaring me.

i dreamt that we have been to heaven and to hell and back again. that’s not just a dream, though, is it. we have been to heaven and hell. heaven for so short a time. hell...

doth follow night, who like a fiend from heaven to hell is flown away. ‘i hate’ from hate away she threw, and sav’d my life, saying -- ‘not you.’

that was shakespeare. pretty good, eh, mara? i can quote shakespeare. almost as good as your dear shaxx.

i can almost see your smile now. as long as you are smiling at me, petra, i am stronger than anyone or anything. i can withstand hell just to see you smile. for you, i would be strong enough.

i'd like to believe that. i really would. but i know the truth. i’m weak. just a weak little boy who can’t see straight. if i were stronger, as strong as you, i wouldn’t have cayde-6’s death on my hands. i know that i am weak.

actually...i don't know anything. anything at all.

i don't believe in anything. in anyone. in me. especially in me.

i hate...me.

i'm sorry.

please forgive me for being what i’ve become. forgive me for not being good enough.

i'm so sorry.

i want to believe again.

i hate myself so fucking much.

i used to dream. i haven’t dreamt in a long time. i’ve been having nightmares for the past four thousand years it seems. i wonder now what it is like to dream. to sleep without intrusion, without waking up in a cold sweat, without my eyes burning from the sting of my tears. i can’t remember what it’s like to dream. my life...i’ve forgotten and it is death that i remember now. that’s all i can remember, petra.

god, i can’t see your face. i try and i try and i just can’t see your face, petra. i try to make myself see you and it just slips away from me, fades away, melts from my memory like snow on a sunny day. why? is there a god after all, andal? is this his punishment? okay, fine, you, up there, you know i didn’t have a fucking choice! do you think i wanted to kill cayde? well, i fucking didn’t! and i shouldn’t have to tell you that! you know i didn’t want to kill him! if there was another way, i would have taken it! you know that!

...was there another way?

petra, did i blind myself to the possibilities? did i rush in, single-mindedly, stupidly, as i’ve done so many times in the past? did i ignore your counsel, did i ignore mara, did i ignore jolyon, did i ignore the beating of my own heart, did i ignore how it ached when andal died...it hurt so much...so much...dear god did i kill a man when there was another way?

it’s so cold...so fucking cold...i can’t feel anything...

maybe i can sleep now. maybe i can dream now. what do you think, petra? i should like to dream. i should like to sleep. i’m so very tired. maybe i could dream about you? i should like that very much.

i am changed.

i am not the prince you once knew.

i am not a man i would want to know.

what a fantastic death i missed.

#destiny #destiny 2 #destiny forsaken #forsaken #destiny fanfic #destiny fic #drabble #microfic #prince uldren sov #uldren sov #forsaken : ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs; ʟᴇᴛ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʙᴜʀɴ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇs #a face of melting snow

[aintzane411]

spoilers for voltron season 4 under the cut!

Episode 1:

BOM keith!!! We knew about it but still aaaa

why is everyone being a dick to keith let him live

theyre keeping him so busy just let him take a nap

btw this is 100% not real shiro this is a clone this is wrong

i need a hairspray AU with coran as corny collins

lance had to have been a theatre kid cmon

why does kolivan’s mask have 3 eye holes? he doesnt have 3 eyes does he? 

other guy has 3 eye holes too

rip other guy

i s2g keith is gonna get back and everyone’s gonna rip into him but this poor boy just needs some oxygen and a nap jfc

coran laser noises!!!

NOT! MY! SHIRO!

ew ka//ura like kudos to shippers but *sigh*

keiths bom suit lowkey looks like he has boobs like i am totally here for trans!keith yes pls

kolivan insists he doesnt bind during missions bc its dangerous and that just adds to his stress levels poor bby

there are. furries in this rebellion. god damn it

“undetected” my boy keith doesnt do “undetected” guys

pls just let keith be happy omg

whyyyy are they furries??? like the artists knew what they were doing cmon

im gonna cry if this is actually shiro like i love kuron to death but please no

im so scared omg

let! keith! rest!!!

“he can finally be the leader i was unable to be” god keith ily im sorry babe

sheith hug!!!! leading into a group hug!!!!

but lets be real im terrified like keith is leaving the team what the fuck

Episode 2:

aaaa flashback!!! Katie!!!

o shit this is called Reunion we’re gonna find matt this episode!!!

ill punch this kid callin pidge a nerd fight me bro

MATT FLASHBACK

pidge is so cute holy fucking shit

also tag yourself im matt’s “big fucking muscles”

ooh heres the scene they showed at nycc does that mean the kaltenecker scene is in the season too?

my smol smart child im love her

smol smart badass child

stop! misgendering! my! child!

pls give pideg her brother back 

“paladin pidge” how cute

IM LOVE PIDGE

plant gun!

portable xray!

o shit matt was an officer!!!

i like how matt’s “rebel officer transponder” picture is him in the galra prison gear lol

omg matt “what the garrison doesnt know wont hurt them” i love

“what dad doesnt know wont hurt him” MATT

im gonna scream if matts dead

dont you dare

theres still 9 minutes left dont you dare

FUCK

please plesae please please god

FUCK THESE FUCKING WRITERS

STUPID EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH JFC

its almost 3am and im glad im emotionally dead inside or else i would have cried like 4 times already

THERE HE IS

omg its just like ree’s canon holy shit lol

there he is holy shit thank god

this is. so pure.

ofc matt has a bounty on his head jfc

“lets show this guy what the holts are made of” god fucking bless

ok now you guys gotta find sam too cmon

niceeee good work guys damn

SCIENCE NERDS OMG

Episode 3:

okay pidge has her brotehr now lets get my boys back in the right lions kthx

ok so after rewatching s3 i think haggar and zarkon are possessed by these creatures

omg. omg matt is straight for allura wtf this is the Last Thing I Expected

shatt hug!!

technically kuratt hug but shhhhhhhh

omg lance calm down

oh boy here comes super zombie zarkon rip

“wayward son” omg

milkshake reference yes

wait please give me langst and have lance feel like hes being replaced by matt please i need more langst in my life

omfg kaltenecker scene!!!!

its even better than the clip omfg

i want lotor to come to the good side i want him to be a good guy let him have mommy issues with keith

yessss bls tell hunk how much of a genius he is thank

oh nooooo i bet pidge normally plays the game with lance but shes busy with matt aaaaa D:

i changed my mind i dont want langst

second ship??? oh boy

third??? OH BOY

matt needs to wash his hair

smelly boy

shoutout to ree and matt

i need more info on shiro/kuron omfg please

YASS PIDGE UPGRADE VOLTRON WITH CLOAKING YES

omg omg matt is gonna pilot green holy shit

damn rip narti there goes our main physically disabled character besides shiro ugh

WHERE IS KEITH BRING MY BOY BACK

omg i think lotor is gonna end up on team voltron whoa

Episode 4:

WHERE! IS! SHIRO!!!

WHERE! IS! KEITH!!!

“besides playing keith is really easy, just act moody” dont call me out like this

ok lance was 100% a theater kid but always an ensemble member never a lead, for which he was bitter about and made up for the fact by being way too over the top as an ensemble

is. is coran gonna do drugs?????? what the fuck????

omg corans room is adorable

ewewewewew brain bug omfg ew

space mall!!

omfg his fucking accent jfc

hunk “well it rhymes so its gotta be true” ily hunk

please never use any of this advice for real theater stuff smh

stick alien!

omfg an “on ice” performance holy shit

fuckin stick alien zarkon and haggar holy shit

careful guys you might break an arm

like i did smh

“loverboy lance” beautiful

“SHIRO THE HERO” THANK

even tho its not shiro but shhhhh

stop! throwing! hunk! under! the! bus!!!

the fact that no one is questinoing coran’s personality just proves that none of them would notice the subtle changes between shiro and kuron so the theory still stands

jesus christ fucking meta “except for you shiro youre the most popular character ill never get rid of you” fuck you writers

varkon! mermaids!

i miss keith :(

ep 4 moral of the story: dont do drugs kids

let! bibobi! live!!!!

Episode 5:

yesss give me keith!!!!!

omg voltron and bom and rebels are all doing a big mission together yes

me: suddenly remembers the “and lance dies so theres that” interview also me: panics

ROLO!!!

different VA??? not norman reedus i think???

hunk! being! badass! yes!!!!

im still v suspicious of this shiro smh

FEMALE GALRA COMMANDER!!!!

shes pretty oh no

why tf does there gotta be furries in the rebellion

oh fuck i almost thought matt died jfc

this commander looks like a steven universe diamond

KEITH MY BOY!!!!!

bby im proud of you for training with the bom but im so glad youre back aaaaaaaa

babe there he is aaaa!!!!!! im love keith!!!!!

now give me the real shiro jfc

and get lance back in the blue lion jfc

i s2g if matt dies

i s2g if lance dies

eyyy hell yeah go acxa

eyyy hell yeah go keith

this is going too well something is gonna happen im so scared

im really scared damn

Episode 6:

hhhhhh im terrified oh boy here we go

this one is called a new defender oh fuck

white lion?!?!?!

will keith be the white paladin?!!?!?!?!!

i just really want everyone back in their original spots bls

wait wtf is going on i zoned out for a bit its 4am

its gonna be those alternate reality being things again istnt it

lance “what are those” nice meme reference

shiro now is not the time to stay behind and analyze fuckin get ur team out of there god damn it now theres a force field around the planet fucking hell

this isnt good. this isnt good at all. and the music sounds so ominous oh god

im so scared

lance i s2g you better not do anything stupid

lance i s2g you better not do antyhing stupid

bls no a//urance

lance i s2g you better not do anything stupid

KEITH YOU BETTER NOT DO ANYTHIGN STUPID EITHER HOLY SHIT

shoutout to coran for just having to hang back while all of his loved ones risk their lives

lance i s2g

im so scared holy shit

LANCE DONT DO ANYTHING STUPID

w h o a

I LOVE KEITH SO MUCH

shoutout to coran for just accepting that alluras telling him to leave when everyon ehe loves could very well die

im love keith and his new leadership skills he learned in the bom but DONT YOU DARE DIE HOLY FUCK

no one is allowed to die

keith dont you dare

keith dont you dare

keith DONT YOU DARE

KEITH

holy fuck oh my god hes ok hes ok holy fucking shit

o shit

o shit lotor is gonna join the coalition i fucking called it!!!

holy fuck that was a lot of emotions and where the fuck is shiro fuck you writers fuck you

#voltron #voltron spoilers #voltron season 4 #season 4 spoilers #vld season 4 #tagging everything i can think of #vld spoilers #god that was stressful

[nanigma]

Hinoka + Elise - Japanese Warriors support

I was cruious about this support too and I can definitly say it’s very cute and sweet. Hinoka really needs to relax a bit more often, and I am glad Elise helped her with it. Hope you enjoy!

Elise: Hey, Hinoka. Let's play together.

Hinoka: … I am sorry, but I was just about to start my training routine. That's right, Princess Elise, how about you join me this time?

Elise: Eh? Just when we finally have a day off!? Playing is so much more fun than training! A day off means resting both your body and your mind. If you don't play at all, your mind is bound to get stressed out.

Hinoka: Even if you say that, we both hail from opposing kingdoms. We might get along now, but at some point we'll...

Elise: What's so bad about getting along!? We finally managed to become friends in this world, and I'm sure that won't change once we get home!

Hinoka: Really now?... Anyway, I don't even remember how to play at this point. I have been focused on training to save Kamui for most of my life.

Elise: So you are not against the idea of playing with me? I'll just teach you how to play again, so let's go all out!

Hinoka: Why do you insist on playing with me of all people? There are plenty of others you could ask.  

Elise: You don't get it, Hinoka. If you want to be friends with someone, you simply have to play with them.

Hinoka: I- Is that so? … All right. What should we play then?

Elise: Yay, I'm so happy! Now, what shall we play? I can't hope to win at tag... hmm... Ah, I've been interested in Hoshidan origami* actually. Do you know how to do it, Hinoka?

Hinoka: Origami? In that case, I actually do know a little about it.

Elise: Yay! I always wanted to fold one of these birds you call crane!

Hinoka: A paper crane I see. All right, leave it to me. I'll show you how to fold one, Princess Elise.

(some time later)

Elise: It's done! How is it? How is it? I did great, right?

Hinoka: Haha, it looks a bit sloppy. Watch me, this is what a real paper crane looks like.

Elise: Eh? You fold the wings that way? I think my way is better though...

Hinoka: What? Then how about we have a little contest about whose technique makes it look prettier?

Elise: Yeah! Ah, but before we do that, can you show me how to fold the crane one more time? …. Wait a minute! I said I was going to teach you about playing, but it's you who has been teaching me stuff instead!

Hinoka: I am sorry, that's not what I-... Hm.. No, you've taught me more than enough actually. You've taught me about the joys of playing, and how important it is. I had forgotten all about it, but before Kamui was taken I used to play a lot like this. Together with Kamui and my other siblings, I would fold cranes and play tag all day.

Elise: So you really did enjoy playing around!

Hinoka: Yes. After all, I joined the military because it was my dream to play with everyone again. Spending time with you really helped remind me of that, Princess Elise. I really need to thank you. Because of you, I was truly able to relax today.

Elise: No, no, I should be the one to thank you! You are so nice. I really, really like you! I want to play with you lots from now on! Right, let's make a huge amount of cranes! A thousand of them! Then they can grant us a wish, right?

Hinoka: Yeah. You really know a lot, Princess Elise. All right, let us make a thousand cranes. We shall wish for eternal peace...  and our friendship to never end.

---

* In Japanese Elise say origami in katakana (オリガミ) instead of the proper kanji (折り紙) indicating that she probably pronounces it differently than intended. Since I don’t have the voice track to compare right now, I can’t be sure exactly how differently, but feel free to interpret it as her saying oh-ree-gah-mee or something similar.

#fire emblem warriors #fe:warriors #elise #hinoka #support #nanigma translates

[shotce]

Tagged by @humblydefiant and @oneiricjourney and @sweet-ree . All the hugs and love guys! Are you named after anyone?
Dad wanted to name me after my mom, mom said Hell No. So my middle name is her first name and my first name is her middle name 😋 I think my birth mom tried to name me after alcohol? Something like Tia Maria? When was the last time you cried? 
Damn. Um, I got upset during the shooting, obviously, but the last time I ugly cried was when we were moving back in August? Do you like your handwriting? 
It looks like a cross between chicken scratch and serial killer. But in my defense, we got computers early in school. Not that my typing is any better. Eh heh. What’s your favorite lunch meat? 
I don't really eat lunch meat, salami? Do you have kids? 
One fur child. I also have a Squishie, aka, my nephew, whom I watch a lot. If you were a different person, would you be friends with you? 
Eh, how different? I assume yes. My BFF is very different and we balance each other out pretty well. Do you use sarcasm? 
My normal voice sounds like my sarcastic voice and my sarcastic voice sounds like my normal voice. I've unintentionally pissed people off before. Whoops. Do you still have your tonsils? 
Yup. Would you bungee jump? 
I...might be talked into it. You'd have better luck with sky diving or diving with sharks. What’s your favorite cereal? 
I don't really eat cereal, but I always get Monster Cereal during Halloween or the occasional Heritage Flakes by Nature's Path. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? 
Only my boots or my high top chucks. Do you think you are a strong person? 
I'm a lot stronger than I used to be and I have faith with that knowledge that I'll get stronger. I can be weak willed, but usually in regards to small stuff. Like comfort food or video games lol What’s your favorite ice cream? I used to be obsessed with Heavenly Hash by Hood, but we don't get it out here. Chunky Monkey or fudgsicles when the craving strikes. What’s the first thing you notice about people? 
Like, elevator gazes or nice to meet ya? For EG it's usually smiles and eyes, though girls with certain builds are just...yeah. For NtMY, idk people who are nice and nerdy? ALSO, IF YOU HAVE A DOG, I'M SORRY (NOT SORRY) THAT I WILL ALL BUT IGNORE YOU WHEN I FIRST MEET YOU. I'm working on it. What’s your least favorite physical thing about yourself? 
Everyone has body issues, but honestly, the things I hate the most are ones I can't change. Asthma or the depression/anxiety. What color pants and shoes are you wearing right now? 
Frankenstein socks and my Fallout lounge pants. What are you listening to right now? 
The Fog. 1980 one. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? 
Is there a mood one? Because I can never make up my damn mind. Probably some red-orange color. Or lilac. Idk Favorite smell? 
This one spot on my dog, or the fresh scent of rain coming off the ocean through the woods. I know, it's' specific, but it's from where I used to live. Who was the last person you talked on the phone with? 
My work friend. We kept losing each other at Renn Faire. Favorite sport to watch? 
I don't. I'd rather go to a game (and feast and shout) or play it my damn self (badly, because asthma, but I'd have fun doing it). Hair color? 
Dark brown with chunks of dark blue, teal and purple. But I'm dying it back soon. Too much upkeep. Eye color? 
Hazel-y? I have just enough green in them to prevent me from saying brown. Do you wear contacts? 
No, but if I don't start wearing my reading glasses, I'm sure I will soon. Favorite food? 
Err. Idk. I'm really craving some afternoon tea rn. Scary movie or comedy? 
Both. I like cheesy scary movies you can laugh at. Last movie you watched? 
Casper. What color shirt are you wearing? 
Gray tank. Summer or winter? 
Winter. Hugs or kisses? Hugs! I used to hug everybody (almost literally) until people made it weird. Now I just squish friends, my dog and nephew all the time.
 Book you’re currently reading?
Fanfic has taken over my life, but it's my goal to finish The Hollow Series and The Art of Asking. Who do you miss right now? 
A friend who hasn't really been a friend for years. We lost touch for a reason, but that doesn't mean I stopped caring. What’s on your mouse pad? 
I don't have a mouse pad or PC. If I did, OH THE MODS I'D HAVE. What’s the last TV program you watched? 
Wynonna Earp. Officer Hot, thank you @thejollywriter . What’s the best sound? 
The snuffle noises my dog makes when she sleeps. That, or rain. Rolling Stones or The Beatles? 
I had a weird childhood that had neither. I grew up with The Monkees. Peter was my fave. What’s the furthest you ever traveled? 
France probably. Do you have a special talent? 
Drawing? The ability to spot poodles out of the corner of my eye? Where were you born? 
Maine, USA Okie dokie guys, feel free to join in! Sorry if you're double tagged: @thejollywriter @dipsykoo @bardofheartdive @young-avenger @renlyslittlerose @mehutchinsane @mandydarlings @xxlegolistxx @hkdroids @jupiter235 @blueteaparty @ellebeedarling @rego-mem @bagog @sanguinespire

#tagged #mutuals #about moi