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dailyadventureprompts · 9 months

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Scragglmop the Destroyer

Once feared throughout the land, a great and terrible dragon grew tired of being endlessly hunted for his hoard and faked his death with the aid of a glory-hungry gnomish bard. Living on for centuries in the guise of a street cat, the dragon is now a hair's breadth from resuming his rampaging ways after the bard's descendants have lost the fortune he gave over to them for safe keeping.

Adventure Hooks:

A series of unexplained fires has wracked the city in recent weeks, which has both the guard and the populace on edge. Rumours swirl blaming arsonists, saboteurs from a rival kingdom, even an illegal duelling society of mages, but none have yet put it together that all of the workshops and businesses were all patronized in one way or another by the famed Candlebright noble family.

Coincidentally, Hignatta Candlebright, young head of that same noble house has sent an invitation to the party to join her at a famed teahouse to discuss a delicate matter involving the retrieval of stolen property. Hignatta has all but taken over the teahouse and its guestrooms since her own family home burned down near the start of the panic, and the party might begin to draw a connection when half way through their meeting the teahouse begins to fill with smoke, panicking patrons, and a booming, sourceless voice that demands "WHERE IS MY GOLD, CANDLEBRIGHT?!"

If you really want to mess with the party, consider introducing them to the fluffy street cat completely independently of the arson plot, making a nuisance of himself in the market while they're trying to shop, or catching mice in their store-room should they have acquired a residence in town. Have them befriend the cat as they might any bad-tempered stray, only to realize after the adventure is half way through that the mice he catches are always somewhat charred. Also imagine the looks on their faces the moment the party's home is broken into by an enemy and their housecat incinnerates a wave of intruders for disturbing his nap.

Background: Everyone knows the story about how the legendary hero Gailen Candlebright saved the realm from the tyrannical dragon Slaggrath, a beast known to devour whole armies and raze kingdoms in search of treasure. It's the ubiquitous tale against which all adventurers are measured against, made all the more ubiquitous thanks to the fact that the deed is memorialized in drinking ballads, children rhymes, and even a few folk operas. Gailen was a troubadour of not insignificant skill before he became a legend, and he had little trouble using that skill and hardwon fame to ensure his deeds would never be forgotten.

As with many tales told by the bards, Gailen left out quite a bit of the truth when concocting his tale: It was a late night in a roadside tavern and the young Candlebright was approached by a sourfaced man with a tangled beard and clothes that might have once been quite fine. Gailen had sung for his supper and then some, his hat was overflowing with tips from a long night's work and a greatful crowd, and the old man wanted to know how it was exactly that the Gnome hadn't yet been robbed; The roads were full of all sorts of rough types who thought that their strength entitled them to others' wealth, bandits yes but worse yet kingsmen, who took what they wanted sure that that they were above any kind punishment.

Seeing that the old man had fallen on rough times, likely having been robbed himself, Gailen spoke from the heart: He'd been robbed a few times yes, but he got by looking like someone that no one would bother to steal from, dressing in his fine clothes only on days he'd perform, and keeping most of his riches in the safe keeping of others, such as the caravan masters he frequently traveled along with.

The old man considered Gailen's words and the two sat up drinking through the night debating the merits of the Troubador's duplicity. Was it not better, asked the old man, to defend what was yours with strength and reputation, That everyone might learn from the failure of those that had trifled with you before?

Gailen looked at the many scars the old man bore and countered that fools never learned their lesson, they just thought themselves better than the last fool who risked it and they'd keep risking it till luck won out or they went to join all the fools that had come before.

It was dawn when the two parted ways, Gailen tottering off to bed thinking he'd given council to a reformed bandit chief, the old man slipping out of the inn and taking to wing thinking he'd concocted a brilliant scheme with the help of his newest, and perhaps first, friend.

i was a week (and one pants-shitting revelation over the old man's true draconic nature) later that the legend of Slaggrath came to an end: Gailen walking into that very same tavern bloodied, burnt, and with the broken off horn of the great wyrm held above his head as a trophy. The news spread like wildfire, the name Candlebright ascended to the shortlist of the realm's great champions, and not a soul questioned when the newly knighted Gailen comissioned the construction of an elaborate series of vaults beneith the castle he'd just been awarded. The bard had everything he wanted, and in return he and his family would hold the dragon's horde in trust, not touching a single copper and adding a little to it each year out of respect for the wyrm's generosity.

Future Adventures:

Even before he charmed his way into unexpected riches, Gailen was an ardent follower of Garl Glittergold, god of ambition, wit, and wariness. Genresavvy bard that he was, he understood that this fabulous windfall wasn't just some gift from his god, it was a test, and that to keep his good fortune going he'd best abide by the exact deal he'd struck in that tavern. Gailen kept Slaggrath's treasure under lock and key all his life and made sure his children did the same despite never telling them where he got it, in accordance with his pact with the dragon . Feeling that the Candlebright family has sat on its laurels for far too long (especially since practical and buisness minded Hignatta has been increasingly questioning why her late grandfather insisted on keeping a giant pile of money in their basement and never spending it), the god has seen fit to shake things up, ensuring that some long lost blueprints for the vault have fallen into the hands of a group of thieves, who broke in and cleared the vault though the very same secret passages Slaggrath used to pop in every decade or so and make sure the count was up to date. The dragon is pissed, convinced Hignatta has reneged on her family's deal.. and all the while the thieves get closer and closer to escaping.

Depending on how the party handles it this situation could break bad in any number of ways: The dragon could give up on being Scragglmop and go on a rampage forcing the party to put him down, they could intercede on Hignatta's behalf and ensure the treasure is returned possibly earning themselves a cushy position as retainers of house Candlebright, perhaps most dangerously they could earn the attention of Garl Glittergold himself and end up being singled out for their own unstable blessing.

In addition to being motivated by the prerequisite desire to get rich, the thieves were hired by an ambitious mage who has long desired to get his hands on Gailen's Horn, the draconic trophy the bard thereafter used as the sigil for his house and hollowed out into a heavy instrument through which he channelled his most showy magic. The mage has designs on the horn as the centrepiece of a ritual drawing on the object's history of power and triumph. Given that the horn is in fact the centrepiece of a giant con it's going to bring some very unaccounted for variables into the mage's ritual which is liable to set off its own chain of problems down the line.

Art

#adventure #mid level #dragon #town #city #dungeon #thief #garl glittergold #disaster #bard #gnome #I thought this was going to be a short one T_T curse you writers brain #monster hunt #patron merchant #patron noble

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chronicbeans · 1 year

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Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 5)

The silly man's actions are finally being noticed by the higher-ups oh no

Tw: Obsessive Behaviors, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Idol Worshipping, Mentions of Death Threats, Mentions of Stalking

🎥 You look around at everyone that the boss has gathered. It is practically the whole camera crew, all of the directors, all the puppeteers, and the few extra voice actors. The boss, who prefers to just be called 'Boss' by their workers, is standing in the center of the crowd they have gathered, looking at everyone with a keen eye.

🎥 Finally, they begin to speak. "I am sure everyone knows why we have gathered here today? I have heard your complaints. The eerie letters and drawings (Y/N) has been getting, Eddie's puppet having a bunch of colorful envelopes dumped on him by the time we return in the morning to work for three nights in a row. I have even heard that Frank's puppet has had a whole dictionary placed on top of him. You know, the one we use to try to come up with rhymes or ways to explain topics to kids? I have heard your pleas, so I have brought us all here to come up with a solution that would satisfy us all."

🎥 Eddie's puppeteer looks around, an anxious look in their eyes, before they raise their hand. The boss calls on them, prompting them to stand and speak. Their tone is frantic as they explain "I am most worried about the... the odd messages. Recently, it isn't just (Y/N) who has been getting them! I've gotten some odd ones, requesting me to mail things to people. They always come with an extra note that's meant for the person who I need to send it to... I did so, because the notes addressed to me contained these... Grizzly threats against me..."

🎥 Wally's voice actor stands up suddenly, pointing to the puppeteer. They speak in a harsh tone, asking "Did you get any mail for me? Any notes addressed to me?" The person in question simply nods, muttering "Yeah... I just leave them by the door to your recording booth."

🎥 The voice actor continues, their eyes moving to the boss, a glare in them "I TOLD you, Boss! Now I have the proof! Whoever this little freak is that's been bothering us has been sending notes to practically everyone here! Every morning so far, ever since a few weeks ago, I've had these envelopes outside my recording booth. When I opened them, they were filled with horrible threats against me AND my family! I don't know how they found out about my kids, but they did, and they have been threatening them! Sometimes, there are even drawings taped all along the walls of my booth that, although scribbles, I can tell are meant to be me or my family dying."

🎥 You slunk in your seat as more and more people begin talking at once, their voices growing louder and louder the longer they talk. From letters to drawings, everyone has something to pitch in. Someone even mentions how they had paint dumped onto them, hence the red stain on the carpet by the filing cabinets. Eyes being painted on the walls by the large Home set is a new one, but not necessarily something you are shocked by. A lot of your drawings recently include eyes, which only makes your paranoid feelings of being watched so much worse... The boss' eyes widen as they raise their hands, shouting "Everyone calm down! This will be dealt with! That's why we're here, right? Stay calm!"

🎥 After a few deep breaths, you raise your hand. After being called on, you ask "I told you to check the cameras and ask the security guards. Have you found anything?" The boss grows quiet, before scratching the back of their head and answering your question "Well... The guards have gone missing. The only remaining one quit, saying there was a ghost or something. The cameras didn't hold much useful information. They didn't show anything, but I have noted that as of a few months ago, they have been turning off around the time that filming stops. The tech guys have been on the case, but found nothing wrong, so far."

🎥 You are about to ask another question, when Wally's voice actor speaks up again, their tone just as agitated as before "Why not have us all take a holiday while this is sorted out? We have no big projects set up, just some regular episodes! The public has plenty of episodes to keep them satisfied right now! I'm sure like... Three days won't harm you! A group of volunteers and I could just stay overnight to try to catch this freak and figure out why they are doing this! Less money from your pockets from property damage, hiring new security guards on the spot from desperation and having them fail horribly, and halfhearted repairs to the cameras." They then look around, asking "Who's with me on this idea? The boss has still got to hire guards and fix the cameras, but we can rid ourselves of this nuisance faster!"

🎥 After a few moments of silence, some people from the crowd raise their hands. You recognize them as the puppeteers for Eddie, Poppy, Julie, and Frank. There are also a few camera operators, and one director. You are about to raise your hand, when Wally's voice actor stops you. They pat you on the shoulder, saying "Look, I know you wanna get rid of this guy as much as everyone else, but I must say... You are in the most danger here, in my opinion. Whoever this is, they are after you the most. You are their target. I may not necessarily like you, but I am not heartless enough to let you come waltzing in here at the dead of night to confront this person. Plus, you got a kid you're caring for, right? You should just get some rest, if the boss agrees with this."

🎥 As all eyes turn towards the boss. They clearly are conflicted. If the rumors being spread around the set are true, they are a bit of a penny pincher, willing to do anything to make a quick buck and not lose any money in the process. However, it seems like their better conscience gets the best of them as they say "Fine. I'll give you all a holiday. For the people who decide to show up, take care of the puppets. I don't want to return to see them in bad shape. Keep me updated. You have THREE days to find and catch this person. No more, no less. This meeting is over. Have a nice holiday."

#welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home arg

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despairinthedeparturelounge · 2 years

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Headpiece

Baby Legolas gets scared of his dad's new crown and goes to mommy (reader).

Warning: none. Fluffy fluff. And like this is so short so sorry..

Possible bad grammar cuz English's not my first language,

like & Comments are very much appreciated

There were still three weeks remaining from the midwinter festival and the king has already planned everything and ordered the mantles mainly designed for this event.

He wanted everything to be perfect, stricktly in place and in one word, faboulous. And you as the queen tried your best to keep things in high standards as he wished for and by that here you were standing in front of the full length mirror on a stool that has added a few inches to your height for obvious reasons which you still haven't figured out, you weren't unfamiliar with this ceremonies nor the way anyone in charge of even the smallest task in this event must be and the best of themselves, even your poor handmaid has walked the stairs to your chambers several times just this morning.

It has been hours, you could swear by that, hours spent of you standing still for the tailors to measure you, head to toe, and not to mention the fact that if you move there is always a needle somewhere waiting patiently to poke your skin.

"These are the two colours the king has picked out my queen, both are in rhyme and sort of match with his own." Ingálvur said, Thranduil's personal tailor and a very respected elf among others. He was truly a blessing both him and his work.

He looked up holding two pieces of cloth one in indigo and one in deep maroon, both equally stunnishing on their own, you felt it difficult to decide the 'right' one, taking a deep breath you compared your fair skin with them to just have a vision on how each would look on you but that did not help, biting the skin on your lip Ingálvur caught your wandering eyes on the maroon piece making him smile in satisfaction, "maroon it is then" you smiled back nodding in agreement.

Right choice, you thought.

After couple of minutes your mind started to wonder how there's no sign of your child, he was too clingy to be away from you for this long, the suddon weight of guilt and gloom felt massive on your heart when the heavy doors of your chamber cracked open and a bawling silver hair ran inside visibly looking for you, hands brushing hard against his face as a poor attempt to wipe off his never ending tears, "nana.." your maiden quickly took your hand to help you down the stool when she saw the way you almost jumped to reach your crying son,

"Nana's here... come on, oh gods!" Your eyes soften when you saw his small face now wet with all the tears and the tip of his nose was red making him the most adorable thing you have laid eyes on, with all the crying and whimpering he barely could see which direction he was heading to, "what is it my little leaf?" you kneeled before him as you held both his tiny hands in yours preventing him from squishing and rubbing his swollen eyes more and he was quick to throw himself in your arms not caring how many strangers were in your room present right now.

He was holding a strand of your long hair in his hand like his life depend on it and if he let go he may get lost forever an old habit from as long as you can remember, catching his breath you brushed away the silver hair from his face and forehead for him to look at you more, "Ada.." you wiped off another tear with your thumb before standing up and rocking him in your arms, "you want ada?" He nodded yes, then no making you chuckle, "ada's scary nana, i- i want ada, my ada" you frowned a bit not understanding a single thing from this boy's mewling when one of the girls came into the room, looking absolutely relieved when he found the prince in your arms,

"Heavens," she let out a breath after bowing down to you, "my queen i am terribly sorry but the prince is incredibly fast!" You laughed making others in the room to let out a giggle, "what's the matter?" You said kissing your son's head as you kept caressing his back,

"The price walked into the king's chamber and i imagine he got scared of the kings new crown my queen."

The boy sniffed and look up at your face, "is that true? You're not really fond of ada's formalities are you?"

He shook his head as you walked slowly towards the doors, wanting to clear the air for both yourself and the little one in your arms, "nana no!"

"My son is not scared is he? The elven prince? Who's protecting nana then?" He nibbled at his fingers that were holding your hair.

"Let us go and find ada shall we?" At last he gave in, holding on to you so tightly you made your way to the hall wondering how gigantic of a crown or cloak it might be to scare him off like that, Thranduil probably didn't even notice the young boy running.

With a lazy knock on the door they opened it for you to walk in, the intense light made you shut your eyes for a few seconds after stepping in and let them adjust then to open it changing the arm you were holding you boy with you placed the free one on top of his head to avoid the sunlight reaching him, Thranduil on the other hand was surprised by your presents turned around to see you and finding Legolas curled up in your arms, he smiled softly somehow unable to take his eyes off of you, light shining on your hair and face make it ten times more heavenly making him fall once again, even more.

"See, it's ada, your very own." You mumbled to the little kid before kissing the palm he placed on your lips for more comfort, your husband looked at you confused before stepping forward, "he got scared of your crown, you had to see him then, face red and wet of tears!" You said smiling before pointing to his crown, mouthing and asking him to take it off, and so he did without a second thought.

"He's all fussy and grumpy now, gods may have mercy on us."

He stood next to you, taking his time to watch you talk as he brushed your hair away from your shoulder to leave a tiny kiss on your skin, Legolas on the other hand was still seeking for more attention holding the colar of your dress.

"My my, what was it little leaf? A monster?!"

He whispered the last part, walking to your back where Legolas's head was resting, or hiding.

Moving and making a little space between your hair with his finger, he finally found the scared boy, eyes still shut. "Or maybe a spider was it?" He ran his two fingers gently on your boy's back making him finally giggle from the tickling.

"Then where was your bow and arrow? Didn't my prince wants to save his ada?"

Pulling back from your hair he faced Thranduil and check him carefully, his blue orbits were moving so fast scanning his dad's face, not missing a spot. After making sure the man in front of his eyes is in fact his father he proceed to reach for his face and touched the man's nose with his index finger,

"Ada-" "yes! That's correct my green leaf! It's ada!"

He rested his free hand around your waist after carefully taking the boy out of your arms into his,

"Wanna show ada your new bow?" He nodded excitedly clapping his hands, "yes yes!" crawling out of his dad's arms to managed to run even faster towards the doors and stumble one or two times since his small feet reached the ground.

"Do you really believe the head piece is scary, my love?"

He looked at you while pulling you closer to himself, you formed a tiny space with your fingers and looked at him through the hole "maybe a tiny bit?" You laughed pressing your lips together before feeling his soft and warm ones on your temple, "i need another"

"Another what- Thranduil!!"

He smirked before cupping your face with his hand

"This one's yours but i want another to have equal share."

You laughed loud covering his eyes with your hand as you went on your tip toe to kiss his lips.

#lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #lotr #lotr imagine #lotr x reader #thranduil #thranduil x wife #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil x you #legolas #lord of the rings x reader

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1d1195 · 9 months

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Half & Half

Here is my new soulmate idea. (New meaning different than my other ones I wrote back in the day.) A tattoo appears on the left ring finger of each person when they turn 16 years old. It’s a black outline, nothing crazy—obviously, it’s on the ring finger. It has to do with how you meet your person. (You’ll see in a second.) It’s vague, there’s not much rhyme or reason.

Q&A (because I feel like there are always questions when it come to soulmate ideas):

Q: Sam, won’t multiple people have the same tattoo? A: Great question. Potentially. It’s irrelevant though for the sake of the story.

Q: How do they know it’s their other half? A: Another good question. The pair of tattoos change to the same color.

Q: Well, Sam, hypothetically, if four people are in the same room and meet their respective half can’t they all have the same color change? How will they know which person they belong with? A: It won’t happen. Q: How do you know? A: Because I wrote it that way.

Q: What happens if you don’t find your soulmate in this universe? A: Then you’ll be sad like Harry.

Q: What do you mean Harry is going to be sad?! A: Warnings: Lots of angst, sad, pining Harry, mentions of death, mentions of sex (pg-13 at most)

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask! (But be warned I'm making this all up on the spot!)

That’s it. That’s all you get. (there will also be like one or two liberties I'm taking with this idea that may have forgot to disclose that you'll read in a few minutes). A black tattoo that marks how you’ll meet your other half. When you meet that person, the pair of tattoos change to the same color. I don’t have a preview for you because this turned into a lengthy foreword. Enjoy :)

How can you miss someone you’ve never met? / Cause I need you now, but I don’t know you yet / But can you find me soon because I’m in my head? / Yeah, I need you now, but I don’t know you yet.

Harry looked at the little tattoo on his ring finger. He’d been staring at it since he was a teen. The morning of his sixteenth birthday to be exact. It was small, the length of his first knuckle to the next and he thought it was a cruel fate that it was a little coffee cup. How was that supposed to narrow his search? Why couldn’t it have been something like Niall’s—a snake? How often did one encounter a snake? That would be easy (and it was for Niall). Or something like Gemma’s—a diploma? There was only a certain number of graduations Gemma anticipated attending.

That was more than twelve years ago he woke up with the taunting little marking. For the first week he drank no less than four cups of coffee a day and had his mum drive him all over town to the different shops in hopes of finding her. Anne took it all in stride knowing how she spent eight hours at the library the first day she saw the book tattoo on her finger when she was Harry’s age. It was just something that needed to be done. The heart wanted, what the heart wanted.

He wished he knew what was on his love’s ring finger. It would have been better if the two markings were paired in the tattoo that appeared on his skin. It wasn’t much help to know it had something to do with their first meeting. It could be anywhere. Harry could have coffee anywhere. After that first week, he decided to relax. He was sixteen. There was plenty of time to meet his soulmate.

But sixteen became seventeen and suddenly he was twenty-eight, no soulmate, and the little coffee cup on his finger mocked him more and more every day. There was therapy or services he could try. People could potentially help, but it just felt so tragic. He wanted to just know. Wanted it to be a natural meeting; the way it was intended. Simply discovering one another exactly how the tattoos indicated they would. None of his friends or family needed help. The many Google searches told him it took a mere average of five years to find their other half.

He had more than doubled that time. Twelve years. The person that he was destined to meet was somewhere out there with who knows what etched on their skin. Maybe they had a coffee cup too. Harry had heard of that. But Niall’s soulmate had a balloon because he had taken his nephew to the little balloon cart after the snake exhibit at the zoo. Both the little outlines on their fingers turned green as they met. It happened. He found her.

Gemma’s soulmate had a camera—someone who happened by at the exact moment they needed someone to take a picture of their family after she graduated. Their outlines turned a brilliant shade of red. They had met. She found him. They could start their lives together.

Anyway, it was unlikely Harry and his other half both had coffee cups.

It wasn’t like Harry had a tragic upbringing that he desperately needed his love at the other end of this tattoo to help him cope through life. He adored his mother and sister. He had a great education. He wasn’t bullied and had a set of good friends. He had a stable job and a good home. If anything, it seemed kind of selfish of him to be so upset he was without his soulmate when everything else was good.

But he longed for his soulmate. All day. Every moment. It ached to his core. He swore his heart was beating for his person, tapping out a rhythm that sounded like a name that he wasn’t allowed to hear. His friends and family were all concerned for his well-being. They couldn’t imagine the heartache Harry was suffering and they wouldn’t wish it on their worst enemy. All-encompassing adoration and love? He had plenty of that to give. He wanted to be at the receiving end of it. A match made in heaven. Or whatever cosmic reality was out there. Harry had watched so many movies and read so many stories depicting the meet-cutes between soulmates. He wanted his.

There were therapies and people to help if you lost your soulmate. These, essentially, were dating sites if you didn’t want to be alone after an untimely passing or something else (although Harry couldn’t imagine a scenario that didn’t include death—what was the something else?). Harry thought about the websites and the grief counseling. Because as he approached his twenty-third birthday, he was getting lonely. All of his friends and acquaintances were paired by then and found the loves of their lives by the time he graduated university—they fell well within the average time. He was jealous, simply put. How could he not be?

“Oh, Harry,” Sarah cooed, kissing his cheek, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as he scrolled through options on his phone. She met Mitch when she was a child—the tattoos and color changing appearing instantaneously. It was extremely rare, but it was effortless: a swing and a slide. Light purple. Another match. One moment blending into the next without pause. They found each other before Harry even had a tattoo on his finger. “You’ll find her. You deserve love more than anyone I know.”

He hoped she was right because he was rapidly losing hope.

Tomorrow was his twenty-ninth birthday after all.

How can you miss someone you’ve never seen? / Oh, tell me are your eyes brown, blue, or green? / And do you like it with sugar and cream? / Or do you take it straight, oh, just like me?

Anne said the same thing as Sarah—but he thought she still had hope because she wanted her son to be happy and that’s what a mum did. She had hope even when Harry didn’t.

Harry had a soft heart. He was sensitive. He wanted to be in love more than he wanted anything else in his life. But he went through the motions. Finishing school, getting a job, and doing his best to get through each day without someone to share it with. He could feel pity oozing from every person he met, and they saw the black ink on his finger. His friends spoke in hushed whispers agreeing to any coffee shop Harry wanted to meet at each weekend.

Each night came with a fitful sleep. A different pair of colored eyes appeared in his dream of someone he didn’t know yet. There were so many dreams of meeting his favorite person. So many good ones. So many bad ones. All of which he woke up heartbroken once more, that he hadn’t met the love of his life.

He graduated with top honors because there weren’t many people in school who didn’t have the other half of their soul by their side. Especially by the end of the four years. It was hard for his friends to go out with him and watch him not find the love he was looking for. Harry wasn’t one for partying excessively—he had plenty of fun times in university with his friends at parties without his other half, that wasn’t something he regretted. But by the time graduation rolled around, the parties got further and few between. His friends didn’t need to go out the way he did. They didn’t have to search anymore.

Harry lost the most hope during his third year. He tried dating people he met at coffee shops and cafes. Dating was a loose term. Harry’s dates with those that lost someone or those that, like him, had given up weren’t all that fruitful for either party. Call him old-fashioned, but if she was out there, he wanted to save every intimate part of himself. A sweep of the lips across a cheek, that was all he could muster. Companionship to stave off the loneliness, that was all he could manage at best. Some were blatant in showing their disappointment. But most usually understood—they’d do anything to get their other half back or to find them.

He prayed to whatever was out there that she felt the same way.

The only solace he had was knowing that maybe, just maybe, she was out there, feeling just as crummy as he was. Not that he wanted the love of his life to feel crummy. At the very least, it would be another thing to tie them together and something to discuss when he finally found her. He kept a list of things he wanted to know. Several lists.

The first list was filled with superficial things—favorites mostly: color, food, movie, etc. Outward things that he wanted to know but really, they were things that anyone who knew the most basic information about her may know. The next list was slightly deeper; things that people only closest to her may know. Things that made her tick. What were her political views? Did she have a good home life? Was she a summer or a winter kind of person? How did she take her coffee--with half and half?

Is that why the coffee cup was there? Did she even like coffee? Has it been a teacup all this time?

The final list was deeper, intimate, things that he wouldn’t anyone to know about himself (or her, if he was honest) except maybe a therapist. Did she suffer her first heartbreak despite knowing she had a soulmate out there? Did she believe in an afterlife or reincarnation? Did she have any regrets or suffer ever?

Had she waited like Harry did?

Part of him hated the idea that she may not have felt the same way regarding intimacy. Maybe she gave that part of her to someone else. Someone she had met at a coffee shop and maybe she thought the tattoo changed color. Sometimes Harry thought his tattoo had changed. He believed it so vehemently. The shade of black looked gray-er one day. Another day it looked sort of navy-blue.

It was wishful thinking because even if it did, he never found who was supposed to be his other half at the time.

But he also believed that even if she did have a difference of opinion on intimacy, he would trust her judgment implicitly. She believed she was doing the right thing at the time and that was enough for Harry.

He woke up on his twenty-ninth birthday the same way he had for the last thirteen years—without a soulmate and a heavy heart.

Cause lately it’s been hard / They’re selling me for parts / And I don’t wanna be modern art

Harry started therapy when he turned twenty-seven. He was feeling very low without anyone to come home to. His therapist was helpful and extremely kind. But Harry could tell by the pink coloring on his ring finger that he had already met his other half. While his directions and ideas to help Harry cope with the grief of not knowing, it wasn’t something he could fully empathize with. Harry fully believed that. It wasn’t his therapist’s fault either—how could Harry blame him for finding his soulmate?

His therapist recommended websites with more successful ratings. His office even had a program that Harry would be perfect for. In fact, if he was interested in it enough, he would be a great candidate to speak to others in similar situations. There was a chance for Harry’s picture to be on a pamphlet to help others like him. He could tell his therapist was excited about the prospect of helping others like Harry. But it would only be another reminder to Harry that he was alone.

Harry found himself balling his hands into fists to keep from screaming.

His friends asked if he wanted to do anything for his birthday. For the last seven years they had done a coffee crawl in hopes of Harry finding someone that changed his tattoo for good. But this year Harry wanted to be alone.

“Are you sure?” Mitch asked in disbelief. He could hear the alarm in his voice. He could hear the covered whispers from Sarah behind the scenes. He nodded and Mitch was silent waiting for Harry to say something. But he didn’t speak for a full three minutes. When he did, Mitch wasn’t oblivious to the sniffle he heard and the way Harry’s voice broke.

“M’jus...” he shook his head. “S’fine,” he shrugged and swallowed all the emotions. He looked at that horrible, ugly, little mocking coffee cup. “Jus’...tired,” he told his friend.

“Yeah...sure...,” Mitch nodded. “Let me know if you need something, Harry. Happy birthday.”

It just didn’t feel happy.

Harry spent his birthday sulking in his apartment. He called out sick for three days of work so he could lie in bed, mourning the loss of someone he didn’t even know. On that third day he scheduled an impromptu therapy appointment begging the man to just do something to end Harry’s suffering. He wanted to be in love...he wanted to be loved.

But his therapist could only do so much. It was one big waiting game. One big, cruel terrible game.

“Uh...hi...m’name’s Harry,” Harry said into the microphone. He placed the guitar on his knee and brought the microphone closer to his lips. “M’therapist...suggested I sing when m’feeling down; s’been a while since I sang in front of a crowd,” he explained to the quiet group. “A way t’cope. Uh...in case it wasn’t obvious, I haven’t...met m’other half,” he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Been waiting thirteen years and four days.”

A few people had their attention focused on Harry. There were a few quiet interjections of ‘aw.’ A couple gasps of shock. There was one quiet happy birthday toward the front. Harry tuned his guitar for a moment. “I didn’t write this,” he smiled wryly. “But I believe every word of it,” he nodded in affirmation and swallowed. “How can you miss someone you’ve never met?” He began.

As he sang, he focused on the playing and singing the right words. He barely looked at the little crowd of the quiet, late-night cafe. He didn’t tell his friends about this. It was for him only. His next method of coping. When he finished the song there was a smattering of applause and he nodded gratefully, shoving his guitar in its case, before rushing outside. He took heaving breaths, the air from his lips accumulating into a cloud in the space in front of him.

That did not feel cathartic the way his therapist said it would. It was overwhelming and Harry actually thought it was one of the worst things he ever did. He felt like puking and began pacing away from the café stopping a few meters further up the sidewalk trying to console himself and his feelings.

“Excuse me?” Harry’s heart almost burst at the sound of her voice. He turned to the person hurrying up the path to him. His heart leapt but he kept his fingers pressed into the palms of his hand. He was going to leave imprints from his nails pressing into the skin.

She had a scarf draped around her neck and a pair of gloves, no coat. “I didn’t want to miss you! Harry, right?” she asked, shivering against the chilly February air pausing beside him as he looked back at the road in front of them. He gave a half nod. “That was beautiful,” she sounded like a song herself. But Harry had thought he met his soulmate before, he knew better than to get attached to just the sound of someone’s voice. There was one person he met ages ago—he couldn’t even remember what year it was that he was so sure was his soulmate. But when he looked, her tattoo was sky blue...and Harry’s remained black.

Harry also taken many science classes and knew the earth was tilted on its axis. But he was certain it had inexplicably turned upside down the moment he heard her voice.

He was still fearful it was too good to be true.

He didn’t dare look at his finger.

“I saw you rushing out here—boy, it’s really cold! I...I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she explained as she tilted her chin down to hide below her scarf. If Harry was smart, he would ask to go back inside so she wouldn’t freeze to death. It wasn’t his fault he was a sad, broken man.

Instead, he was speechless, waiting for the inevitable. For her to ask to see his tattoo. He pressed his fingers harder against his own hand. Instead, she bit her lip, her nose turning pink in the frosty temperature. “I brought you some hot chocolate,” she told him. Harry took this moment to realize between her gloved hands she held a coffee cup—or rather, a cup of hot chocolate. Hot chocolate. The same kind of cup that he knew was outlined on his finger. He didn’t take the drink from her. He couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, he was frozen in place.

Instead, he managed to turn his attention to her eyes for the first time. They were so gentle, so kind. There was understanding etched all over her face. Harry just laid it out to a whole group of strangers the hurt he was feeling. He knew she knew. She didn’t seem to mind that he wasn’t talking. So, she continued. “My tattoo is a guitar...and you were the only person in there with a guitar...so...it’s,” she smiled and shook her head. Like it was an inside joke between them already. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “It’s gold now, this like beautiful, shimmering gold...I didn’t even want to cover it because I want to look at it all the time—and it’s only been about ten minutes like this but—God, it’s so cold out!—but I didn’t want...couldn’t miss you so I didn’t wear a coat—can I see your tattoo?” She rushed, still shivering. The poor girl.

Harry felt lightheaded. She was right here. A guitar. A cup of hot chocolate. It had to be.

Right?

Harry shook his head. “N-no,” he mumbled. The rejection broke her gentle, beautiful features. The poor thing. Why would he say that?! “M’scared,” he admitted.

She swallowed nervously. Her expression was a little more guarded than when she first stood next to him, but less broken than when Harry outright said no. “I just moved here,” she nodded—complete understanding back on her face. Her teeth were chattering. Harry was horrible to make her suffer like this. “I’ve been looking at this goddamn guitar for eleven years and you should know, I have no musical talents whatsoever. I took so many music classes in high school. I attended every band concert at my college. I haunted my local music store. I—” her voice cracked, and Harry heard the desperation that he had felt for so many years. It ached him to know she felt the same way. Worse than his own pain. He wanted to yank her heart out of her and cradle it, hold it and nurse it back to health. He’d give her the shattered half of what was left of his own heart if that would make her pain go away. She looked at the cup between her hands, tears lining her lashes so beautifully Harry was really starting to believe it was her.

“Baby, I threw a dart at a map,” she whispered. “I couldn’t take it, Harry. I applied for the first job I could find that used my degree in this town. I found an apartment. I packed up and left everyone and everything I ever knew to find my soulmate,” she sniffed. There were no fallen tears, but Harry thought she probably had cried plenty. Harry certainly had. “Everyone I know, thinks I’m crazy,” he knew that feeling very well. “I took the very first flight out possible. So, I’ve been stuck in my old time zone I won’t sleep until tomorrow afternoon. I was tired of unpacking. Tired of being hopeful and I just wanted to get some hot chocolate because it’s so cold, you know? So I went to this café that I Googled—it’s the only place open at eleven at night,” but Harry already knew that. She brought a gloved hand to her lips. Lips that Harry really wanted to kiss. “I know you have two years of waiting on me. I’m sorry about that—I didn’t know we weren’t in the same place, honey. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Like it was her fault. Harry felt so broken that she was taking the blame for it all, but he couldn’t get his vocal cords to work. It wasn’t her fault. These things happened. It just sucked. It sucked the life out of Harry for thirteen years, but Harry remembered eleven years without her just as well. It’s when he started therapy after all. She had suffered too. “Please,” her voice cracked again. “I need to see your tattoo,” she begged.

It was so quiet on that cold street. His chest hurt; his throat ached. It felt like he was trapped in the smallest of rooms, the walls closing on him and pressing him into a cube of pain. He held out his left hand. She rolled her lips into her mouth. Her shoulders were heaving with the greatest weight she had ever carried. Harry wished he could be braver and help her out, but he was so terrified she was wrong. This was the closest break in his search he had ever had and if she was wrong, he thought it would kill him, surely.

She switched the coffee cup to her right hand. With her free one, she slid her gloved index finger over his bare digit. She released a breathy, watery giggle. Another inside joke between the two of them. “Don’t suppose it’s always been gold?” She asked.

Harry knew when his therapist asked what it felt like when he finally met her, he would never be able to describe the moment accurately. He tried to take it all in. The sounds, the smells, the feelings. His eyes were blurred with relieved tears so he couldn’t take in what he saw but he finally looked down at that beautiful tattoo of his. An iridescent, glittering gold. With her teeth she pulled her glove off her hand—his poor love had to be freezing but she didn’t stop—showing Harry how her little guitar outline matched the color of his cup perfectly, sliding her ring finger against his making the first brush of her skin against his the most magical feeling he had ever felt.

So, this is what it felt like to be whole.

In the same moment, she dropped the mug. It shattered to pieces on the cold sidewalk, stained her pale colored shoes in chocolate liquid and soaked her discarded glove. But Harry didn’t even have a second to react to it because her arms were around his neck. Her face was buried in his shoulder. “I thought it was a coffee cup,” he croaked, wrapping his arms around her middle. She giggled some more. It might be his new favorite sound. He pulled her close, feeling the shards of the mug crunching below their shoes. They stayed like that, Harry’s heart thrumming against his ribs, positively ready to jump into her chest to be a whole heart, finally. He squeezed her, crushed him to her, terrified to let her go. He would need a new therapist to cope with this kind of anxiety.

He pushed her back from him and he brought his hands to her cheeks, trying to take in every inch of the beautiful face he longed to see, touch, and feel every night he slept. He never wanted to stop looking at her. He was scared to let go of her for even a second.

Maybe he didn’t need to explain it to his therapist. This moment would just be theirs. A cold street, a broken mug, and two halves of one soul finally found.

He pressed his lips to her forehead then each eyelid, her nose, her cheeks. He tried to kiss every pore on her skin. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” he admitted. Her heart fluttered. “I know s’pathetic,” his lips never stopped the kisses to her face. His voice muffled by her skin. He pressed his lips again and again to the same spaces. It warmed her, he could tell. Her cheeks turned a deep red, but it wasn’t due to the cold.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered, and he watched as the tears dripped down her cheeks. Harry had the fleeting thought that meant she hadn’t waited and now that she was finally here, he knew it really didn’t matter. “You really are my soulmate,” she whispered, which proved of course she waited—she was all his.

Harry ran his thumb along her lip and sank his mouth to touch hers. He moaned at the feeling, the warmth, the electricity that ran through her and into him. A completed circuit. Whole. She whimpered again, kissing him back and wrapped her arms around his neck again. He squeezed her close, her toes lifting off the ground.

“Can I take y’home with me, angel?” He begrudgingly pulled away. She quickly nodded, her heart fluttering at the word angel. He didn’t even mean to call her that, it rolled effortlessly off his tongue. “I have...so many questions t’ask you.”

“Please,” she nodded eagerly.

Harry held her left hand because it was without a glove. She was also still without a coat—abandoned in the late-night cafe, but they marched on anyway.

But I only got half a heart to give to you. / And I hope it’s enough.

Harry gave her his heaviest sweatshirt and made more tea so he could stay awake and keep her warm. Her jaw still chattered every so often, and they sat in silence for a few moments. Sitting on his bed. Harry had never had a girl in his bed before. He held her hand in both of his. The tea on his bedside table. He was staring at their tattoos. The pair that somehow matched after all his suffering. He thought gold was his new favorite color.

“I have lists,” he whispered. “Of things I want t’know.”

Smiling, that gorgeous smile of hers, she nodded easily. “You can ask me anything,” she promised.

Harry wondered if this was how all soulmates felt. To be heard and seen. This implicit need to be broken open and share every detail they could think of. “I don’t want t’fall sleep,” he murmured. But sleep was winning. He didn’t want it. He found her. He wanted to be awake and ask her all his questions. He wanted to memorize her skin, find every freckle. Wanted to kiss her again and again until he felt like his heart wasn’t half of a lump of muscle anymore. She deserved a whole heart.

She swallowed. “Harry, I’m going to stay,” she promised. It wasn’t distrust he felt. But it was a new ache that he wasn’t sure he could describe. Worry, maybe? That was about as close as he could get to describing it. He was afraid she was a figment, a dream. A really wonderful dream. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, it’s my favorite.”

Breakfast. One favorite down, only a thousand more to go. She gently pushed his shoulder down and she rested her ear on his chest. “Dreamed about your heartbeat,” she murmured. Harry wondered if she heard the way it skipped a beat as she spoke. He kissed the top of her head. “If I’m not right here when you wake up, I’ll be in the kitchen, alright?” He nodded. He hoped she would be here though. Waking up without her attached to him after this crazy, beautiful night might make him a little worse for wear in the morning. Would it be crazy to say he loved her? That was crazy. Whether they were soulmates or not. Despite that he did love her. “I love you,” she whispered. “Always have.”

It wasn’t crazy. Not at all. Not the way she said it. If anything, it made the most sense in the world. “I love you, too,” he felt like crying and if it wasn’t for the clock on his nightstand reading two in the morning, he might have actually cried before he fell asleep.

The knocking on the door woke him. So did the near shouts of his name. His love was no longer lying on top of him, but the knocking must have gotten her out of bed. It was nearly nine the next morning, the sun poking through the blinds. It was warm, his bed smelled like her.

He heard his door creak. The gasps. “Who are you?” He heard Sarah ask.

She giggled. “I’m the coffee cup,” even the way she introduced herself was perfect. Maybe he would keep the hot chocolate detail to himself. It seemed that she was willing to do the same by not telling them it wasn’t a coffee cup all these years.

“Oh, fucking finally!” Mitch cheered.

“Princess!” Niall shouted and Harry chose that moment to enter the main room, one of his best friends lifting the sweet girl into a massive hug that made him somehow feel more whole than he ever thought he could. “We’ve been waiting forever for you,” he told her. She simply giggled more, returning his hug.

“Easy, please. I jus' got her,” Harry murmured.

Sarah, seeing Harry finally appeared, threw herself at Harry with a choked half-laugh, half-cry. He kissed the side of her head. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered.

Niall and Mitch, being the guitar enthusiasts they were, found her little tattoo unbelievably adorable and nearly unfair they had a snake and a swing. “I quite literally had no idea how I was supposed to find a musician when I can only sing—kind of.”

The boys asked her how it happened last night. Was that why Harry didn’t answer their texts or calls? Niall said he would go back and get her things—her purse, her coat, her phone. He knew the owner and was adamant that her things would be safely in the lost and found. She didn’t even care. They asked where she was from and Harry realized how gentle and guarded her answers were—they weren’t revealing, no long explanations.

She kept glancing at Harry with a knowing smile with every question she answered. It took everything in him to not cry from the fact she was keeping her answers short because she knew Harry would want to know the answers first—would want to ask more.

Sarah was looking at her as if she put the stars in the sky—Harry only knew that look because that’s how he felt as well. “Was...was it worth all that pain?” She asked. “I can’t...I can’t imagine,” she glanced at the little slide on her finger that had been there since she was six years old. She shook her head in disbelief. Sad for Harry

But he nodded anyway. As if for thirteen years he didn’t have the most broken heart known to man. “So very much,” he affirmed giving Sarah a squeeze around the shoulders.

“I was just about to make breakfast; would you like to join us?” She asked the three of them. Harry had never been an us. It was like a magic spell. Every word from her lips was like a soothing little cleanser meant to fix all the broken parts of him.

His friends smiled and looked at Harry for confirmation. If he wanted time alone with her, they would high tail it out of there, totally understandable. Niall was already calling the café to see if he could get her things at the very least.

“Please stay, of course,” he shrugged. “We’ve got forever.” Her expression seemed to melt a little at his words. He saw the way her thumb smoothed the skin over her ring finger.

Mitch and Sarah headed to the kitchen island and took their seats, they were a flurry of calls and messages to their other friends. They wanted to spread the good news and this is what friends did for someone like Harry. He didn't need to tell everyone, he had the love of his life in his arms. Niall was headed back out the door to get her things from the café. He’d be back in fifteen minutes.

Feeling more rested than he had in years, since he dreamed about the pair of eyes that finally matched someone that he knew to be his soulmate, he didn’t feel as broken. She smiled at him, gorgeously. He didn’t think he would ever tire of this new feeling of being whole. “Y’sure y’don’t mind having them?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I love them already.”

Harry knew it would be that way but somehow it was still way too good to be true. “We have all waited a very long time for you,” he reminded her. She wrinkled her nose cutely with a little impish grin. Harry placed his hands on her hips, pulling her toward him as if he had done this every morning for his whole life. “I’ve thought about you a thousand different ways and I don’t think any of them compare t’how you actually are,” he whispered.

She pressed the length of herself against him. Arms around his neck. His arms were like a vice around her waist. Harry’s sweatpants were too long on her, and the sweatshirt was scented with her new favorite smell. The love of her life. Her other half.

“Harry, I’m afraid I only have half a heart left to give you. I was really sad there for a very long time,” she admitted quietly; maybe it wasn't the time to tell him, but she needed to say it while it was on her mind. Sarah and Mitch were fielding messages, quiet giggles and words just over their shoulders while they waited for breakfast.

“Jus’ another thing we have in common,” he mumbled into her hair unfazed by her words. “We can share the whole one we make together.”

She sighed with relief and nuzzled her face into the soft shirt he wore. “You’re everything I wanted and more.”

What more could he say? “Me too, angel. Me too.”

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

I just know Felix is going to cause a scene when she wakes up. But I’m ready, I can take it.

I was a little busier this week but I’m so glad it’s Saturday and I get to share this with you all. S always, here the Terms of Endearment Masterlist.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” There’s no rhyme or reason for what could have possibly just escaped Bradley Bradshaws mouth. Not only was the idea crazy, but what scared you more than anything was that you knew you had heard the mustache clad, Hawaiian shirt wearing, deep brown eye having ass Naval Aviator correctly.

“You heard me.” Your daughter, Dot, was perched up on Bradley’s lap at the bar. Penny had given her some colouring pages and a bucket of crayons to entertain her while you enjoyed two for one night at the Hard Deck with Bradley. “Is it so hard to believe?” She liked Bradley, for whatever reason—she immediately gravitated towards him as you got to know him.

“What’s hard to believe, Bradshaw, is that you’d want anything to do with me at all.” You remarked as you cut through your steak. Medium rare. You shook your head softly at the idea, God it would be such a bad idea to get involved with anyone now. “I’m not looking for a relationship.” You told him through doe eyes and a meek smile before you placed the cut piece of steak in your mouth. “I've just gotten out of a long term thing and I don’t even have my shit sorted here properly, and you’re asking me? Of all people! Out on a date?”

Bradley, with all his good graces and his ability to fall head over heels in love immediately, looked down at your daughter, changed up the coloured crayon she was currently colouring with, he thought the grass should be green—not red, and smiled as he turned back to you, sitting beside him, like you had for the past five days after work at the Hard Deck.

“I think you should take a leap and give me one chance to take you out.”

“I think you’re delusional from all those G forces you’ve been pulling.” You met his smirk, squinting at each other as Dot squealed when Bradley tickled her sides to show her he was still actively engaged with her current enrichment activity.

“Did you hear that? I think Dot here just said you should let me take you to dinner.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at how ridiculous Bradley Bradshaw looked, why he was trying it on with you you’d never truly understand. Scooping up some mashed potatoes, you held it out for Dot to take a mouthful.

“Dot has a speech impediment and can’t even say your callsign properly.” You called Rooster out on his bullshit. “I don’t need you using my daughter to get in my pants, chicken man—“

“Chicken man?” It was hard to stop yourself from laughing as Rooster beamed at you with wide, all encompassing eyes. “That was a low ball.” You just pressed your lips together and tilted your chin up, proud of yourself. “And for the record, I’m not just trying to get in your pants.”

“What are you playing then?” Bradley had been infatuated with you since the moment you opened Jake Seresins door a few weeks ago, only now you were friendly with one another, to know fault of your own. Rooster had seemingly made it his new life mission to mesmerise you, put a spell on you, he’d been on this dinner crap for two entire weeks now and there seemed to be no end in sight. He had convinced himself he had fallen in love with you—poor guy.

“Let me take you out to dinner and I’ll be happy to give you an answer.” You could feel the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks as you placed your knife and fork down, wiped your mouth with the crummy napkin, and swivelled on your chair to face Bradley properly.

“Bradshaw, trust me when I tell you I am the last person you want to get involved with.” You sighed, keeping Bradley’s gaze as he matched your energy and swirled his legs out from under the bar, bumping yours as Dot reached out to you with grabby hands—she was done with her colouring and just wanted her mum. “I'm damaged goods, I don’t play well with others, I’m a single mothers, you hardly know me and I’m living in my brother's spare bedroom—what about me screams love of your life?”

Rooster didn’t answer right away. He simply eyed you off as you snuggled your cheek against Odettes as she cuddled into you. Giggling as she grinned ear to ear. Yep. He wanted you, all of you—and your little girl too.

“Hard work is good for the soul.” Was all Bradley replied with as he finished his beer, noticing the sippy cup of juice you’d ordered Dot was empty. “And something tells me you’d be worth the grueling effort, Miss Fix It.” You couldn’t compute what you’d just heard, couldn’t comprehend that Bradley Bradshaw was still proposing the rhetoric that you were worth any sort of effort from anyone. “Barkeep, I’ll get another drink for Fe here and another juice for her mini me—“ Rooster fished his wallet out from his back pocket as he stood, placing a hand on the small of your back as he manoeuvred himself behind you. “Start a tab for the juices.”

“No, Penny, don't do that.” You shook your head. “I can pay for my daughter’s drinks, mine too.” Bradley kept his eyes trained on Penny as she held her hands up in defeat, knowing that Rooster would just tell her at a later date that he’d put a credit down. “You’re a menace Bradshaw.”

“And you’re gonna fall in love with me Y/l/n.” Bradley smirked, winking as he tilted your chin his way with his finger. “Only a matter of time—“

“Yeah, sure—in your wet dreams, Flyboy.” You taunted as Rooster stood so close you felt all encompassed by the scent of his cologne. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, challenging your taunt and raising you his own.

“Trust me mama, with the amount of jacking off I've been doing these days with you around? I’m losing valuable inches.” Your jaw would have hit the floor if Bradley hadn’t had his finger there, holding your head still as he leaned in over you. Closing the gap slowly, you didn’t seem to want to do anything to stop him. Because you didn’t want this to stop, despite how unavailable you really were:

“I’m gonna tell Jake you’re sexualising me, perhaps then I can get some peace and quiet around here.”

“You love it.”

“Debatable.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now—“

“Wait What?” Before you could even fathom what Bradley was doing, his lips were on yours. Softly and ever so gently, he pressed his supple lips to yours in a moment of balls and madness. If Jake walked in any second now Bradley knew he was a deadman. But he couldn’t help it—he just needed to feel your lips on his just once.

Rooster wasn’t expecting the kiss to last, he just thought he’d try and cop a sneaky peck. But when you snaked a hand around to the back of his head to keep him drawn close and against your lips? Bradley felt his entire world shift. He was down bad.

“Tooster!” Dot babbled in your lap as she brought her little hands up to push against Bradley cheek, forcing him to break the kiss and pull back. “No kiss my mamma! Ownly I kiss my mamma—“ Bradley widened his eyes in pure shock as you brought a hand up to cover your mouth and laughed at the absolute scolding your two year old had given Bradley. His cheeks were bright crimson as he tried to find the right words to say to your daughter.

“Can’t we share?” Bradley settled for that as he crouched a little to meet Dot's height in your lap as he gave you a much needed moment to compose yourself after your moment of weakness. Knowing you really couldn’t do this, not because you didn’t want to or didn’t like Bradley, but because you simply weren’t good enough for someone as kind and as beautiful as him. “My mama always said sharing was caring?”

“No, she’s my mamma.” Dot stated a matter of factly before Penny was dropping your drinks off at the bar.

“The two year old has spoken, Tooster.” You giggled. “I’m flattered by your persistence, really I am—“ You took a deep breath in and sighed. “But like I said, I'm damaged goods and you deserve better than broken.”

“My mother would turn in her grave if I didn’t see this through.” Bradley explained, knowing he was going to have to work for you so much harder than he’d ever worked for anyone ever. But you were every bit of it worth the time, the patience, the effort, everything. “I’m gonna win you over Y/n, just you watch.” Rooster left it at that, turning on his heels to go suss out the game of darts Coyote and Fanboy had started up.

“Oh, eyes peeled Bradshaw, I’ll be watching.” You shouted at him as he waved you off politely. Sending you a wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. “In a million years, huh baby?” You cooed as you turned your attention back to Dot in your lap, her back against your chest. “Thanks for having my back, wingwoman.”

“I’m gonna pretend like I didn't see that happen.” Jake groaned in your ear as he came up behind you, thumbing the back of your head with the palm of his hand.

“Ow!!” You hissed, watching as Jake came to sit beside you in the barstool Bradley had only just moments ago vacated. “He kissed me, thump him!”

***~****~****~*****~****~****~

There wasn’t an awful lot of noise that inherently pulled you from your drugged up haze, but the steady rhythm of a heart rate monitor and the incredibly loud sound of Jake Seresin snoring has your frowning before your eyelids even peel away from one another.

“Jake—“ You grumbled, you couldn’t move your jaw. What the hell? “Wh—“ Reaching up to touch your lips, you tried to open your mouth again. Only this time you let out a whimper when you tried a little too hard, feeling wire strain and stretch as tears flooded your eyes. “Ow—“

Your face felt incredibly puffy to the touch. Swollen skin that mimicked the colours of a rainbow throbbed painfully under the tentative touch of the pads of your fingertips. You could see, barely—but you saw enough to recognise that you were in a hospital.

As you tried to push yourself up on your elbows a little more to get a better look again, you hissed out a jaw clenching groan when a sharp pain radiated across your upper torso. Clutching at the painful area under the hospital gown you found yourself in. You felt prickly stitches. Fuck.

At the sudden juxtaposition of your painful cries, Bradley shot up from the place he’d fallen asleep beside you in. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out for. But when he sat up, a drool patch remained on the side of your bed his cheek had been pressed into.

“Y/n—“ Bradley cooed, still groggy from his impromptu nap as he rubbed his eyes and slid as close to you as he possibly could in the chair he hadn’t left. “Dot’s okay, he didn’t hurt her baby, Jake was on it pretty quickly.” Bradley knew the first thing that you were going to ask about was your daughter. As he reached to push your hair up and away from your forehead, Bradley smiled at you as he stood, leaning haphazardly over you. “Please don’t try to talk too much alright? You broke your jaw, it’s wired closed for now but if you need to—move your lips, talk through your teeth.”

You simply nodded quietly in responses still frowning as Braldey took in the sight of you. His heart had never been filled with so much emotion before. He was forever grateful that you were alive, that you were such a fighter, but his heart was crying at the same time because to see you like this would bring any man to his knees.

“I love you so much you know that right?” He choked out, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth for a second to stop himself from crying. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry in front of you—not when you needed reliability and strength in numbers. He needed to be a pillar of unconditional strength and support. “You are the strongest, most fierce woman I have ever met and you have no idea what an incredible honour it is to be able to call you my girl.”

“Everything hurts.” You spoke softly and with caution as you tested the waters. “And my lips are really dry.” Bradley couldn’t help but to chuckle as he reached for the tube of lip balm on the side table. Squeezing some onto the pad of his index finger before applying a thin, glossy layer ever so attentively.

“Better?” He cooed.

“Much.” You replied. Allowing a moment of silence to fall between you as Bradley sat back down in his chair. Sighing as he turned his head to where Jake still sat sleeping in a heap. “Jake asleep?”

“Yeah—the guy passed out when he found out what happened.” Bradley explained and your heart melted. “He really does love you.”

“I know.” You sighed, you knew how lucky you were to have Jake in your life. You’d always known that. “He’s a good guy, I don’t think I give him enough credit for everything he’s done for me.” You couldn’t help but to get a little choked up. “But I don’t think I give you enough credit either, chicken man.”

“Oh woah—“ Braldey chuckled as he pulled the back of your hand up to his lips, kissing you a couple of times as he smiled against your hand. “I haven’t heard that one in a while, Miss Fix It.”

Again there was a moment of peaceful silence shared. Only until Bradley thought it was an appropriate time as ever to let you know what was going on.

“Jaidyn’s in custody.” Was all Bradley said as you took all of what that could have meant in. “Dots at Paybacks play but we talked it over and decided that when you woke up Jake was gonna go get her and take her back to his place.” The explanation had a fatal flaw, why couldn’t Jake just bring Dot here? “He just wanted to see you awake first.”

“Can he bring her here?” There was a pause you didn’t like as you looked at Bradley and the way his face remained stoic and frozen, like he was scared to death to say what he had to next. “Rooster, Jake can bring Dot here, can’t he?” Again, there was no response when you asked to see your daughter. Not because Bradley was trying to panic you—he just couldn’t get the words out. “Answer me.”

“We don't think it’s best if she sees you like this.” Nothing could have broken you more. “We think that if she saw you like this, then she’d be traumatised Fe.”

“Who’s we in this decision?” You were physically starting to get upset, Bradley could see it from a mile away. “Rooster who the fuck is we!?”

Jake Seresin had woken up around the time Bradley was glossing your lips up with his tube of carmex. But he’d chosen to give the two of you a minute to just be. He pretended to still be asleep, perhaps that wasn’t such a great idea after all. So when he was groaning out a stretch to cut the rising tension in the room. you turned your head to face him.

“We, is me—“ Jake sighed as he stood, padding over to your bedside with a solemn expression. He hated seeing you like this. “Fe I love you, and you have no idea what I’d do to protect you, but Dot can’t see you like this, you look like you just went a few rounds with Rocky Balboa.”

“Jake—“ You tried reason with him, except all Jake did was lean over, kiss your forehead softly and ever so gently, before giving you a look that spoke louder than any reason, any excuse he could speak into words.

“I’m sorry I let you down.” He whispered just above a whisper. “But I've got a chance to make sure I don’t let Dot down too, she can’t see you like this Y/n.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me.” It was clear to everyone in the room that you were spinning off into a tailspin. “I am her mother! You have no say.” Through a painful groan, you sat up. Unbeknownst to you as you allowed your emotions to overwhelm you, Bradley was hitting the little nurse’s button to alert the nurses at the nurses station that you needed assistance and needed it fast. “You don’t get to do this to me, please don’t keep her from me.”

“I do.” Jake knew if anyone had to deal out the tough love it had to be him. There was no way Odette deserved to see her mother like this. You didn’t deserve to have to subject her to that. A few days, that’s all you’d need. Allow the swelling to go down, the colour to fade a little. “You might not like it but I do get to make that decision for you and I have, because I know you know deep down I’m right.”

“Jake, I swear if you don’t go get my daughter and bring her to me right now.” You were moving around an awful lot for someone who’d just woken up after having an entire organ removed from your body. “I’m serious!” Not that you knew that at this point.

“Y/n, you gotta stop moving around, please lie back down.” Bradley was trying his hardest to be the voice of reason as he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder—he just wanted to die when you shuttered under his touch. A momentary lapse in judgement had him forgetting about just how battered and bruised you were underneath your hospital gown. “Shit, I’m sorry Fe—“

“Please just let me see my daughter.” Both Jake and Bradley hated the fact they had to deny you that right, to see your own child. “She’s my baby, I need to see her.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed as you pleaded with Jake, you were losing control of any level headedness you had. “Jake—“

“I can’t Fe—“ Jake explained as Bradley saw one of the nurses step into your room. “It really wouldn’t be good for her to see you like this.”

“Ah, I see someone’s awake!” She beamed. “How are you feeling, Miss Y/l/n?” She smiled, sensing the tension in the room and the worry in both Jake and Bradley’s eyes as they both turned to address her. “I must say I’m a little surprised to see you sitting up like this, how about we get you back in bed to rest up while we go over some or your charts post op?”

“I don’t care about any of this, I just need to see my daughter.” You were tunnelling violently into haze, nothing was more important to you than Odette. Not even your own health and wellbeing. “I don’t care.” You wailed, trying but failing to tear your mouth open. “I don’t need these stupid monitors and I don’t need you telling me what to do and I certainly don’t need you making parental decisions on my behalf!” You were still addressing Jake who’d stepped back slightly when you flung your legs over the side of the bed, pointing a finger his way. “Go and get her!”

“Darlin—“ Bradley knew he had to intervene before this got out of hand. “It’s not just Jake who thinks it’s for the best.” He tried to sound as calming as he could. “You wouldn’t want her to see you like this, and we’re not trying to control you, we’re just looking out for Dot.”

When you turned your head to look at Bradley, he saw nothing but rage. He never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look again.

“Keeping my daughter away from me, her mother! Means you are just as malicious as him!” You spat, not thinking about what it was you were actually saying or why Jake and Bradley were doing what they were doing. It was at the point when you tried to stand, that the nurse who’d answered Bradley’s button press shifted into action.

“Oh dear—“

“He wanted to take her away from me and that's exactly what you’re doing!?” I trusted you!” You were inconsolable as tears streamed down your puffy cheeks. “I TRUSTED YOU!” As you ripped out the cannula in your forearm Jake had to intervene, he couldn’t watch this go on any longer as Bradley just stood there on the opposite side of the bed in complete shock at your hysteria. “Let me see my daughter! Don’t take her away from me!” You were just speaking into a void as Jake wrapped his arms around your tightly, holding you still as you thrashed and twisted and turned. “Don’t take her away from me, please—!”

“Y/n, you gotta stop moving—“ Jake pleaded with you as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Stop!”

“Let go of me you self righteous piece of shit!” You screamed. “I can’t believe you, how could you do this to me!? SHE'S MY DAUGHTER! And IM HER FUCKING MOTHER!!” It all sounded a little odd because you were screaming through your teeth, groning as the pain threatened to take over you. But you fought it, kept screaming, kept spewing empty insults Jake's way. Jake and Bradley could hear you all the same though, regardless of your jaw, they could hear you, understand you—It all hurt the same.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself—“ Jake spoke as softly as he could as his own rage began to bubble to the surface.

“I hate you!” It stung to hear. “I fucking hate you—!”

“Stick and stones Fe, Sticks and stones.” Jake didn’t want to front that you’d struck a raw nerve. Your vicious words played on Jake's mind like an exposed nerve ending.

“She needs to be sedated before she ruptures her sutures.” The nurse explained as she jabbed you with a pretty large amount of sedative that took effect in a few seconds as it coursed through your body. “She shouldn’t be moving around this much right after major surgery.”

“She’s my daughter—“ You cried. Feeling an overwhelming numbness’s starting to overcome you. Coaxing you closer and closer into the black tunnel vision void. “My baby—“ Jake felt you start to go limp in his embrace, he’d give you credit where credit was due. You were fighting the sedative hard. “Don’t take her away from me.”

“We aren’t Y/n, we’d never.” Jake cooed as you finally fell victim to the sedative.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Bradley exhaled as he turned on his heels and ran his hands through his sandy blonde locks. “Holy shit, what the fuck was even that—“ It broke Bradley’s heart to see you like this, so broken and scared and all out of sorts. The only thing that reassured him that he was doing the right thing was the fact that if he could barely handle seeing you like this, there’s no way Dot wouldn’t see your beat up self in her nightmares. “She’s a wreck.”

“I’ll have to let the change over staff know what happened, I’ll pop it in her chart that she's been a little difficult and needed a sedative.” Jake was quite happy to help the nurse, who’d later introduce herself as Cindy—but Jake and Braldey already gathered that information by her nursing tag, back into bed. “I don’t think that she needs anymore unpleasant opinions thrust upon her while she’s recovering.”

“There aren't many ways to sugarcoat the fact it’s in her daughter’s best interest to not see her this way.” Bradley explained.

“Are you the father?” Cindy asked as she fixed up the thin blanket over your torso, deciding she’d need to set up a whole new cannula sight. Bradley just held his breath.

“No ma’am—“

“Then I’d think carefully about the language you use in situations like this, you might be doing what’s right but try and put yourself in Miss Y/l/n’s shoes.” Nurse Cindy sighed as Jake yawned and rubbed a tired hand over his face, the sun was only just now starting to rise. Odette had been at the Fitch's all night. “She’s clearly been through hell, keeping her separated from her daughter may do more damage in the long run than good, for her at least.” Cindy shrugged, Bradley just nodded silently in agreement—he felt awful after having just witnessed you lash out in utter desperation. Female rage was no joke. “I’m gonna sort her out, perhaps you’d like to take five? Ten minutes to grab yourselves a bite to eat? A coffee perhaps?”

It was Cindy’s kind way of asking Jake and Bradley to give her some space to fix you up and do her job. Bradley, with trepidations lacing every thought he had—eventually agreed.

“I should probably go get Dot.” Jake mentioned, every minute that passed was a minute longer she had spent in fear of what was going on around her. “I’ll take her home, get her sorted and maybe we’ll do some sort of zoom call or something?” He added, walking hesitantly towards the door with Rooster. Both men were so overly exhausted both mentally, emotionally and physically to the point where you really wouldn’t have been able to blame either of them if they turned their backs now.

“I still think it’s a bad idea but hey, we’re just as bad as that dickhead for protecting her kid from PTSD.” Jake had an attitude problem, that was no secret. He’d been good over the last few months but with a mix of exhaustion and overwhelming anger, he couldn’t not help but to let out a little attitude. “But hey, mother knows best, right.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Should you be drinking this early?” By the time Jake pulled up to the Fitch household, it was nearing six thirty in the morning. “That’s like, almost something you feel like I should be concerned about?” Jake questioned as he shut the car door in the driveway. The first thing he saw when he pulled up was Amilia, enjoying a beverage in the early hours of the morning. Soaking up the sound of birds singing and the sun rising. Unbeknownst to Jake though Amilia hadn’t actually gone to bed.

“Eh, I tend to stay awake at night because I don’t even know what my favourite colour is and I’m fucking terrified that I don’t have a real personality.” Amilia remarked as she laid perched up on the patio swing. “Haven’t actually gone to bed.” A two seated she’d made a one seater by propping her let’s up across the spare cushions. “And I’m not starting, I just never stopped, I dropped Bob off last night I just thought fuck it—it’s been a long enough day, why not make it a little longer.” Jake just huffed as he made his way up the porch.

“In my opinion, drinking at six thirty in the morning isn’t normal—“ Jake stood before Amilia, looking down at her with his hands in his pockets, a tired, sunken expression on his face, and a whole lot of worry in his heart for you. “Alcohol isn’t a problem solver.”

“At the risk of sounding flippant Lieutenant, opinions are exactly like assholes.” Amilia hadn’t even opened her eyes as she took the beer bottle to her lips and finished off the amber liquid, tilting her head as far back as her neck would allow her to move. “Everyone’s got one.” She finally opened her eyes and turned all her attention to Jake as she sat up, allowing him to take a seat next to her as she sighed and let her elbows rest on her knees. “I’ve got a job interview tomorrow at some bar Reuben got me hooked up with.” Amilia explained. “I was just sampling all your American alcoholic beverages.”

“What’s the verdict?” Jake asked softly, he was hoping Amilia would have some sort of comeback for him.

“They’re weak as piss, mate.” Jake snorted as he let himself rest against the back of the swinging chair. Amilia sat back too, pulling her legs up to cross over themselves. “She alright?” There was a lingering pause between Amilia and Jake before he decided to answer. He was done. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. All Jake did was turn his head, he looked at Amilia for a few seconds before the dam broke. “Fuck, Jake—c’mere.” He did. Jake allowed himself just a moment of weakness as he let his tears fall freely as he moved into Amilias open arms. Just needing someone to tell him he was doing this right.

Jake had never cried in the arms of a stranger before. But when Jake let his cheek rest against Amilia Fisher's chest, feeling her stroke his back and card her fingers through his hair.

Jake felt home.

“I can’t deal with that.” Jake cried. He hated being the bad guy in your eyes. “All I do is put her first and what? She calls us malicious?” Jake Seresin felt like a child, crying in the arms of a woman he hardly knew because his feelings were hurt. But he’d be damned if what you’d said didn’t hurt.

“What happened?” Amilia asked softly as she just sat with Jake, allowing him to lay across her lap as she played with his hair. He was so fucking tired.

“I told her I wouldn't be bringing Odette to the hospital for a few days.” He explained with a sigh, revealing in the feeling of Amilia combing through his hair. Looking up at her through teary eyes. “No two year old needs to see their mum in the state she is currently.”

“Hmmm—“ Amilia pressed her lips together into a line and nodded, agreeing with Jake. “Why’d you nominate yourself as the villain?”

“Because I didn’t want Rooster taking the brunt of that.” Jake groaned, covering his flushed and teary face as he took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. “He doesn’t deserve that, if I know Y/n—which I fucking do, she’d push him away and they need each other.” Amilia just listened, she listened to Jake pour his heart out about how much he hated being the one behind your anger, he hated being the one who said you couldn’t see your daughter right now, but he’d rather be the one you blamed for all your misery and all your displare than have you put the blame on Bradley. “She told him she trusted him like he’d broken it or something, I just hope that the next time she wakes up she doesn’t say something she’ll regret in the long run.” Jake paused as he took a moment to look up at Amilia, just drinking in the sight of her, god she was fucking beautiful. “She needs Rooster just as much as he needs her and I can’t let that asshat of an ex ruin that for her.”

“Woah, what in the world is going on out here huh?” Payback cooed as he opened the front door. He was gonna ask about what the hell was going on between Jake and his sister in law but that was a conversation for a later day. What mattered right now was getting Dot back where she belonged. “Is that uncle Jakey?” Jake sat up at the mention of his name with a groan, seeing the beautiful little girl that was Dot holding out her arms for him to take her. “You gonna tell uncle Jake how good you’ve been?”

“I been so good.” Odette mumbled softly as Jake took him in his strong arms, sitting her on his lap before she bawled her fists and rubbed at her tired eyes. “Where’s mamma?”

“She’s okay baby, just needs a few days to herself. She had to get her spleen removed and she’s all tired and isn’t very fun to be around right now.” Jake tried to explain it the best he could without upsetting Dot. “But while mama rests and recovers, you get to hang out with me and Rooster and boy do I love when I get to hang out with you.”

“What’s a spween?” Dot asked softly as Jake held his niece close to his chest, kissing the top of her head as he smiled against her hair.

“An organ, it sits right here—“ He pressed his fingertip into Dot's side and she giggled. “Mamma didn’t need hers anymore so the doctor took it out of her before it could make her sick.”

“And I get to hang out wif Tooster too?”

“Mmhmm, he’s with mama now but what we’re gonna do when we get home is start packing some of your things up because when Mama comes home you guys are gonna go live with Tooster at his place.”

“Oh shit for real?” Payback raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood watching the sun rise with Amilia, Jake and Odette. “That’s huge.”

“In the grand scheme of everything else that’s happened in the past twenty four hours I highly doubt that’s what you're shocked at.” Amilia scoffed as she stood from the swinging chair. She paused as she crouched to boop Dot on the nose. “See you cheeky girl when I’m looking at ya.” Dot smiled back before she popped one of her thumbs in her mouth, an anxious tick she’d started to develop. “See ya Jake.” Amilia turned her attention to Jake as she smiled. Leaning in to kiss his still tear stained cheek. “I’m still pretty keen on Preston’s, just text me when things cool down for you.”

“Yes ma’am.” Amilia was about to tell Jake off for calling her ma’am again, but she accepted it as a terms of endearment and left it at that.

“You know you have a job interview with Penny at one right?” Payback looked at his phone, showing Amilia the date that was clearly displayed on the Home Screen.

“I thought today was yesterday still, fuck!” She groaned. “Everythings fucking stupid here, your booze, your road rules, your stupid politics, it all makes no sense—“ Amilia stormed into Paybacks place and all he did was laugh, turning back to Jake who just sat there in the front porch with Dot in his lap. Rocking gently to keep her calm.

“Hey man, my doors always open if you need someone to talk to, you gotta offload some pressure.” Reuben was a good friend, he always had everyone’s back. Jake really did appreciate the offer.

“I think I’m gonna lose my best friend in all this mess man.” Jake held back more tears, like fuck was he about to cry in front of Odette. Biting his bottom lip as he took a deep breath, Jake sighed. “Some way he’s gonna take her, even if it is just emotionally, she’s gonna take it out on me and I’ll have no choice but to take it on the chin because I’d rather lose her and have her be alive than to lose her all together.”

“You’re doing everything you can Hangman, don’t forget that.” Payback knew whatever had happened between you and Jake had been enough to have him second guessing his entire role in your life. But he’d let it play out a little longer before running any sort of intervention.

“I wanna go home now—“ Dot mumbled against Jake's chest. He kissed her temple and agreed knowing that home was the best place for her to be right now.

“Let’s go home bubba, let’s go home.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #terms of endearment// jake seresin #bradleybradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x oc

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manwrre · 6 months

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give me ANY cult-y or hyper-religious harringrove fic and watch me lose my mind fr. esp if one of them isn’t human and is doing the corrupting or persuading the other into committing blasphemy?? like, imagine…

steve has lived in the village his entire life. it’s what’s been expected of him— what’s been expected of them all. in that same way that it was expected of his parents and his parents’ parents and their parents’ parents and the grapevine of those who came alongside and, before them.

they are never to leave.

never to ask questions.

never to disobey the village head. just pray and pray and pray.

to be good to one’s neighbor and to pray and pray and pray.

to exhibit both a sound mind and a clean heart and remember, you must praypraypraypraypray.

to work hard and abstain and refuse the temptation of anything and everything beyond the village boundaries.

because beyond the sweeping trees and green canopies, there was nothing good.

there was hell and starvation. there was sin and carnality and they were blessed to have been absolved for generations. they were blessed to be able to live on the land of god; to be the chosen few.

except, steve hasn’t felt blessed for quite a while now. in fact, he hasn’t felt anything but afraid.

afraid because the village is all that he has ever known. he’s bathed in every surrounding creek and has explored every clearing. he’s harvested in the spring and lends a hand, cooking all communal meals during the winter. he attends church and kisses his parents goodnight and smiles at the people he’s grown up with. he teaches the small group of kids who live within their community and he’s afraid

because something has been hunting them.

and steve may just be a measly teacher at the age of nineteen but he notices when the first boy goes missing.

a quiet child, by the name of daniel. twelve years old and always so friendly.

and at first, everyone assumes that he’s drowned or has been attacked by a wild animal. that is, until he’s found at the edge of the woods; perfectly whole but so very cold. gone to meet their maker.

so steve prays for their protection and safety—the entire village does and they believe it to be done

but a week later, henry is gone.

then emory,

little silas,

and now, will.

all into the woods, they’ve disappeared without a trace. only to be found days later, seemingly unharmed if not for the stillness of their chests.

and he has heard the stories, of course. he’s listened to the nursery rhymes and old wive’s tales about what evil has spilled into the trees surrounding their homes but now, he believes.

there’s something in the woods and it is taking people. there’s something in the woods and it will kill them all.

so when he decides that enough is enough and goes out looking for will, imagine his surprise when he stumbles upon someone else.

a boy.

pale-haired and blue eyed; his gaze too bright and his stance, much too relaxed for someone in the woods at night. steve’s certain he has never seen him before—he’s sure he would remember someone so golden and so pretty. and yet, the boy looks at him like they’re familiar. like, he knows him.

“i was beginning to think you’d never come.” the blond grins.

and steve swallows, suddenly; staring as the stranger’s lips stretch around a mouthful of too sharp, too raptorial teeth and thinks,

oh.

there’s something in the woods and he’s met it.

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vilevenom · 7 days

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I asked for a sad prompt, and MAN, did you deliver, @bitterbunny07! I'm definitely still working through some writers block, but it felt so good to get this done within a couple of hours. So, yeah, obvious trigger warning: mentions of miscarriage. Nothing is described, however.

Enjoy!~

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. After everything he'd already gone though, how could this be happening?

Branch's ears were ringing. He knew Poppy and the doctor were talking to him, but he couldn't hear them. He couldn't breath.

Branch hadn't seen Poppy in a week. He knew she'd brought him back to the bunker after the doctors appointment, and he was pretty sure she'd come by the bunker once or twice since then, but he hadn't seen her. He made point of staying holed up in his room, only venturing out once in the last week to grab a few rations from his pantry, though he barely touched them. He felt like he didn't deserve to. Not after…that.

So, it was a little surprising when he heard a knock on his bedroom door.

"Poppy?" he asked, his voice slightly croaky from crying near endlessly over the last week.

"Sorry, bud," a much deeper voice than Branch had been expecting said, before the bedroom door opened to reveal his oldest brother, "But she did ask me to come check on you."

"I don't blame her," Branch sniffed, rubbing at his eye and hunching his shoulders under the pile of blankets he'd buried himself under, "For not wanting to see me."

"Hey, now," John Dory scolded quietly, moving across the room to sit on the edge of Branch's bed. He reached out and gently pulled the blankets away from Branch's head, revealing the starkly grey face below. "Who said she didn't want to see you? That has nothing to do with it. She's worried about you, Bitty B, but she thought you wouldn't want to see her."

"Why would she think I didn't want to see her? I'm the one who…I…our egg," Branch choked on his words, covering his mouth with a hand as he gagged. John Dory reeled back quickly, glancing around and snagging a waste basket from near the bed as Branch dry heaved into his hand.

"It's okay, B," John soothed, holding the bin near Branch and shifting so he could rub his baby brother's back. Or, at least, where he assumed his back was through all of the blankets. "Let it out."

"I-" Branch began, only to snag the bin from John's hands and heave into it, what little contents he had in his stomach escaping in a mad dash.

"That's it," John hummed, wrinkling his nose at the retching sounds, but otherwise doing his best to stay calm and soothing.

Once Branch was done he sat back, settling the bin in his lap as he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as a quiet sob bubbled up from his throat. "Why did this happen?"

The nearly inaudible question caught John Dory a bit off guard, but he collected himself quickly, taking the waste basket from Branch and setting it on the floor so he could gather his littlest brother and all of his blankets into his arms. "I can't answer that, Bitty B. I'm sorry."

"I did everything right," Branch sniffed, leaning into John, "I took all the vitamins, I was careful with my hair. We sang to it every day…But it still-it still died."

John gave Branch a squeeze, nuzzling his chin gently into the top of his brothers head, where he knew the egg once sat. "Sometimes…sometimes these things just happen. Without rhyme or reason."

"That's not good enough!" Branch suddenly snapped, wrenching himself out of John's grasp, his blankets falling down around his waist as he turned a tearful, angry scowl on his brother. "There has to be a better explanation! Even the doctor couldn't figure it out! It's not fair!" Branch hiccupped, his anger quickly burning out as tears he should, by all rights, be too dehydrated for began to tumble down his cheeks. "It's not fair."

"I know, Branch," John sighed, reaching for his brother again, only to have his hands slapped away.

"How would you know?! How could you possibly know what this feels like?! This-this awful, hollow feeling from knowing that, no matter what you could've done, no matter how much you wanted it, that your body rejected and killed something so defenseless? Something so small?"

John let his brother rage at him, a look of sympathy on his face. He let out a quiet little sigh, before digging into his hair and producing three small photos. He looked them over for a moment, before holding them out to Branch. His younger brother took them with a confused frown, his nose wrinkling as he tossed the photos back towards John after glancing at them briefly.

"Are you trying to rub something in my face?" Branch snapped, watching as John quickly and reverently picked the photos back up.

"No," John sighed, brushing his thumb over the edge of the photos, "They were mine."

Branch opened his mouth to snap at his brother again, only for his brain to lethargically catch up to what he just saw and heard. John didn't have kids, but he had pictures of eggs. "…Were?"

"Yeah," John gave a little nod, a sad smile on his face as he fanned the photos out and tipped them so Branch could see them again, though he did not offer them back over. "I didn't actually get a picture of the first one, since I sort of blacked out? And my partner at the time took the egg before I could do anything, but…yeah. I took a pictures of the rest. None of them survived past week three."

"I…John," Branch began, eyes wide as his brother tucked the pictures back into his hair.

"Hey, this isn't about me. I just wanted to let you know that I get it. I've been where you are. It's hard, and nothing I say or do will probably ever make you feel better. But, I just want to let you know I'm here. And so is Poppy," John said as he reached out to gently squeeze Branch's knee.

"When were they?"

"Hmm?"

"The eggs. When were they?"

"Oh," John sat back and fidgeted slightly. "Probably in my mid to late twenties? My partner was really, uh, affectionate, let's just say, but not…they weren't really present. It was a fair few years after the band broke up, and I made some really piss poor life decisions."

"And you wanted them?"

John sighed, rubbing at his face, before slumping over to lean on the headboard of Branch's bed, a far away look on his face. "So much. My partner sucked, but I loved kids. And, honestly, thinking I was gonna get to raise a kid of my own, it made me feel like I was getting a second chance to be better. I messed up so bad taking care of you guys, I thought it was the universe giving me a another chance. But that…well, obviously that wasn't really the case."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey!" John sat up, reaching out to tug Branch into a hug, glad that this time his brother fell into his chest without complaint, "Again, this isn't about me. This is about you."

"But…I couldn't imagine going through this again, and again…how did you manage?" Branch murmured, turning his face to bury it against John's shoulder.

"Honestly? I didn't. I wallowed a lot, and I just sort of floated through life. Pretty sure I was grey for a good chunk, too? I honestly don't really remember much. All four of them happened within the span of, like, two years."

"…If I ever find out who your partner was during all that, you know I'm going to send the K-Pop and Reggaeton trolls after them, right?" Branch muttered, half muffled by John's shoulder.

John snorted, rubbing Branch's back as he chuckled. "Yeah, I'm not gonna tell you that. Plus, I would have to honestly say that, with the amount of, mmm, illicit activities they enjoyed, I wouldn't be surprised if time already beat you to that punch."

They sat quietly for some time, John quietly humming as he stroked his fingers up and down Branch's back, while his shoulder became damp with his youngest brothers silent tears. Finally, when he deemed a sufficient amount of time had passed, and his knee began to protest the way he was sitting on the edge of the bed, he gently pushed Branch back so he was sat up. "How're you feeling now?"

"Horrible," Branch stated bluntly, sniffing rather loudly and earning a soft smile from his brother.

"Yeah, I could've guess that," John chuckled, offering Branch a handkerchief from his hair, "You look like garbage. But, do you think you're feeling well enough to see Poppy?"

"…Does she really want to? See me, I mean?" Branch wiped at his face, while he glanced at the fingers of his free hand. "I'm even grey again. This isn't what she signed up for."

"I think you should probably let her decide what she signed up for, Bitty B," John murmured, standing up from the bed and letting out a groan as his back cracked and his knee popped.

"Yeah," Branch sighed, absently wringing the handkerchief in his hands. "You can tell her, whenever she wants to, she can come over. We should talk about this."

"That sounds good," John hummed turning his head slightly, "You hear that, your highness?"

Branch jerked in his spot on the bed, turning wide eyes on his bedroom door as Poppy pushed it open, a bashful, tired little smile on her face as she waved at Branch. "Sorry, I-I really didn't know if you'd want to see me? And you were so sad, so I knew you needed someone to talk to, but I didn't think it being me would've been a good idea, and I couldn't think of anyone else you would let in here, let alone actually talk to, so I just-"

"Poppy!"

Branch let out the first quiet laugh he had in over a week as Poppy's mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth, while he lifted the blankets in a silent offer to the queen of pop. She let out an audible sob, before rushing the bed and snuggling up into Branch.

"Yeah. You kids'll be okay," John muttered to himself, turning to let himself out of the bedroom as the two began to speak in hushed tones to each other under the blankets.

"John, wait!"

John Dory paused in the doorway, turning a curious glance back at his brother, who was already beginning to look a bit lighter. Not blue, not even close, but not the dark charcoal grey he'd been moments before. "Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being here, and talking to me."

"Whenever you need, you know where to find me," he said with a small nod, before heading out the door.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls branch #trolls john dory #tw: miscarriage #trolls fanfic #prompt fill #things that i wrote

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thetriplets3 · 11 months

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❀ nostalgia ❀

Late at night, cuddled in your silk sheets, we talk about whatever random and deep topics that come to mind. One that’s been on my mind for a few years now is nostalgia. Since moving away from my childhood town when I was 6, part of me misses the comfort and how easy life felt. Being able to play all the time, see and do things I liked everyday, made me happy.

No matter how many times we saw the same thing, it was always exciting and I never got bored of it. Whether it was the children’s museum, the indoor jungle gym, days on the lake, or parks, new memories were made each time. Memories I’ve been craving lately.

I ramble on about this museum my family would go to almost every weekend, where each room has a different theme. One was marine with a skeleton of a whale hanging from the ceiling, a cave, an old classroom room, a little police and fire station, and a garden where there was a giant sunflower with a crank so you could watch it grow. I think that’s where my love of sunflowers comes from. Your eyes soften at the way my face lights up talking about my childhood. I mention my childhood memories often enough for you to know how important those memories are to me.

It’s been a week since that late night conversation. Rolling over I reach for my phone to shut my alarm off. The first thing I see is a text from you, which puts a smile on my face.

Getting out of bed, I do my skincare then pack it in my bag. After packing my bag with enough clothes, I bring it downstairs and place it by the door. Quickly, I grab something to eat and rinse my dishes just as you pull up. Getting in the passenger seat I’m met with your lips, pressing a sweet kiss to mine.

“Where are we going?” I ask, confused by your spontaneity.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out sweetheart” you joke.

We drive for probably 4 hours, stopping at a gas station to grab some snacks. Our playlist plays quietly in the background. This alone is all I needed; you, car rides, and music are my favorite moments. As we enter the small town I get this feeling of déjà vu. Looking to my right I’m met with the statute of a moose my family would sit under as we drank slushies.

“SHUT UP YOU DIDN’T” you gasp, filled with all the memories rushing back

“Oh but I did!” you smile. You love seeing me happy.

This was such a special trip for me. We spent the next 4 days reliving my childhood. I made sure we went to the children’s museum, one of my favorite places. It’s a weird feeling knowing that you used to go to these places every week and just like that you stopped going. It’s the same as I remember it. You held my hand to stop me from wandering off and leaving you to find where I’d gone. I barely said a word the entire time we were there just in awe at what I was seeing. It was like I was a kid again, still equally as fascinated.

There was this giant outdoor nursery rhyme themed playground. Walking through the park with my hand in yours I point out different things my brother and I used to play on. One of my favorite parts of this place was the barn which I know you’d love to see all the animals there. In front of the barn was a lookout pond where we stood wrapped in each other's arms.

“This is so sick now I understand why you wanted to come back here so bad” you say.

“Thank you for bringing me back here, you don’t know how much this means to me”. I whisper.

“Of course there’s nothing I love more than seeing you happy” you whisper back, kissing the top of my head.

The next few days were spent visiting other places my family frequented. Before heading back home we stopped at this little candy store which I’m surprised was still in business after all these years. It warmed my heart that you remembered all the things I mindlessly rambled on about and actually made a plan to visit there instead of just listening. You make me feel special like no one has before. I’m happy that I got to relive my childhood and I’m ever more happy that I get to make memories with you that I’ll one day be nostalgic about.

Taglist:

@im-a-matt-girl @iluvmatt @antisocialties @stxrniqlo @d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets

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sasaofastora · 1 year

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As I’ve been setting up for the past few weeks, I’ve created a new Legacy Challenge based on my childhood favourite- The Urbz. All the rules and details are under the cut!

For each generation, try to stick to the aesthetics of each district as much as possible- and for some added fun, I also recommend trying to name your sims with puns or references that fit the area. The Urbz wiki page has all the existing characters to give you some inspiration.

Generation 1: Central Station

You are a new arrival in the city, with no place to call your own and no place to go. So you stop at the first place everyone in this city comes through, Central Station. It doesn’t take long to make friends with the punks who make the subway station home. They’re passionate and angry at the status-quo, just like you, and for maybe the first time, you begin to find your place.

Rules:

- Start with $0

- The Curator Aspiration

- Must have the Hot-Headed trait

- Politician Career, Charity Organizer Branch

- Get in a fight every day

- Have at least one child (your heir should have the Bro trait)

Generation 2: Kicktail Park

Your parents were always so angry and ready for a fight, it made you want to find a place to just chill out, dude. You find your way to Kicktail Park, where you find other skater bros like you who just want to take life as it comes. Because hey, you only get one life, so why not live it to the max, man? Gnarly.

Rules:

- Extreme Sports Enthusiast Aspiration

- Must have the Bro trait

- No career, do odd jobs only

- Master the Fitness and Snowboarding skills

- Do graffiti at least once per week

- Have at least one child (your heir should have the Snob trait)

Generation 3: The Foundry

The graffiti covered walls of the Park inspired something in you from a young age- a passion for art that was simply never understood by your laid-back parents. So you made your way to The Foundry, where the people appreciate art the way you do and take life more seriously. Also, they’re pretty into robots around here...

Rules:

- Painter Extraordinaire Aspiration

- Must have the Snob trait

- Work part-time as a Barista, then become a Freelance Artist

- Master the Painting and Robotics skills

- Build Servo

- Have at least one child (your heir should have the Dance Machine trait)

Generation 4: Neon East

Stuffy. Uptight. BORING. That’s how you would describe your parents. Where’s the life, the excitement, the colour? And so you find yourself in Neon East where the techno-technicolour rave never ends! Here you know you’ll never be bored again. And don’t forget to try the sushi!

Rules:

- Party Animal Aspiration

- Must have the Dance Machine trait

- Work part-time as a Fast Food Employee

- Master the Cooking, Video Gaming, and Dancing skills

- Find all Food Stall recipes from City Living

- Have at least one child (your heir should have the Music Lover trait)

Generation 5: Cozmo Street

Although you could appreciate your parents party-hard lifestyle, you always felt that the vibes just weren’t right for you. You wanted something a little more grounded, and a little more focused on the best part of those parties- the music. On Cozmo Street, you find your people, where a late night round of drinks and an impromptu jam session are never too far away.

Rules:

- Musical Genius Aspiration

- Must have the Music Lover trait

- Culinary Career, Mixologist Branch

- Master the Mixology and Singing skills

- Do karaoke at least once per week

- Have at least one child (your heir should have the Freegan trait)

Generation 6: Skyline Beach

You grew up surrounded by musicians, whose talent inspired you every day. However, you always knew your true passion was in the words - the lyrics, the poetry. You find exactly where you want to be with the rap loving crowd on Skyline Beach, where rhymes fly from the rooftops all day long. Plus, they’ve got some interesting pets around here...

Rules:

- Neighborhood Confidante Aspiration

- Must have the Freegan trait

- Work as a Freelance Writer

- Master the Writing and Charisma skills

- Have a pet raccoon (since there are unfortunately no ferrets in the Sims 4)

- Have at least one child (your heir should have the Maker trait)

Generation 7: Gasoline Row

It’s all well and good spitting poetry all day, but where’s the grit? The grime? You need somewhere you can get your hands dirty. You find your place to do that on Gasoline Row, where mechanics and speed demons rule the streets. Around here, it’s all about head-banging to classic rock in the garage, and maybe taking a break for some hot dogs once in a while.

Rules:

- Nerd Brain Aspiration

- Must have the Maker trait

- Work as a Freelance Crafter

- Master the Handiness and Fabrication skills

- Eat only BBQ foods and snacks

- Have at least one child (your heir should have the Kleptomaniac trait)

Generation 8: South Side Bridge

The gritty garage your parents loved so much just never seemed to inspire anything in you. You longed for something with a little more class, and a little more... dangerous competition than their motorcycle races. South Side Bridge is where you find what you were looking for. Get ready to cozy up to the local family- they might have some work for you in their fireworks business. Just don’t look into it too much.

Rules:

- Public Enemy Aspiration

- Must have the Kleptomaniac trait

- Criminal Career, Boss Branch

- Master the Mischief and Juice Fizzing skills

- Set off fireworks at least once per week

- Have at least one child (your heir should have the Self-Absorbed trait)

Generation 9: Diamond Heights

The criminal dealings of your parents gave you the opportunity to rub shoulders with some of the most rich, famous, and glamourous of the city. And so of course, you wanted so badly to join them. You make your way to the celebrity studded and gold-covered runways of Diamond Heights, hoping that one day, you could be just as famous a fashion icon as some of them. Now vogue, darling.

Rules:

- World-Famous Celebrity Aspiration

- Must have the Self-Absorbed trait

- Style Influencer Career, either branch

- Master the Photography skill

- Get involved in a Love Triangle

- Have at least one child (your heir should have the Overachiever trait)

Generation 10: Darius’ Penthouse

All the generations before you found one part of the city where they really belonged. You, however, never want to choose! You’d rather be a part of everywhere at once, and get to know as much about this wonderful city as you can. One day, you might even rule it all, looking down at the skyline from your penthouse apartment. Maybe you could even get a pet monkey? Or is that too ambitious...

Rules:

- City Native Aspiration

- Must have the Overachiever trait

- Any skills and careers you choose

- Live in a penthouse

I really hope you try out this legacy challenge, it was a lot of fun to put together! I don’t know yet if I’ll share my own gameplay of it or just keep it for myself, but I’d love to see what others do with it. Thanks for reading!!

#sims 4 #ts4 #the urbz #legacy challenge #urbz legacy #simblr

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unreadpoppy · 5 months

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song as old as rhyme - chapter 15

{Beauty and the Beast AU - Raphael x OC (Elize)}

chapter 14

Read on AO3

A/N: this might be a good moment to tell y’all i can’t visualize things in my head, soooo for my sake, you'll have to imagine what Mizora's place looks like (also, just pretend she has like a idk, mansion in Faerun). Also, I apologize if some of the dancing makes no sense, descriptions are hard.

Warnings: Mentions of violence

Taglist: @littlemoondarling

@desenhosdebolso

@shyminnie07

@lemonandhoneytea

“Ah, Raphael, how nice of you to have made it here. And quite on time, as well.” A blue woman, with fiery red hair, four horns and wings, spoke. She had a golden adornment on her head and her garment left little to the imagination.

The she-devil turned her attention towards Elize, eyeing the human up and down. “And you must be Raphael’s newest pet, Elize.” She said, with a smirk. “I am your hostess, Mizora.”

Elize chose to ignore the ‘pet’ part and asked “You know who I am?”

“But of course! Words spread like wildfire in the Hells.” She giggled. “It was a matter of time until everyone heard about Raphael’s new apple of his eye.” Mizora took one free strand from Elize’s hair, looking at the cambion. “I can see why you chose her.”

Raphael’s jaw tightened and his chest puffed. “Careful, Mizora.” He said as he eyed her down, taking a step towards her. It was then that Elize noticed how much taller and bigger than the other devil he was. “You might be the host, but you still ought to know your place.”

Mizora huffed. “You are no fun.” She took a step back, addressing both of them. “I’ll leave you to enjoy yourselves.” She grabbed a drink from a nearby servant and walked away.

Elize, who had let go of Raphael’s arm, turned towards him. “You look…furious.” His face was contorted, his nose scrunched. She even swore she saw his eye twitch.

“Mizora always has a special way of getting on my nerves.” Raphael looked at Elize, and his face softened just slightly. “Come. Let us talk with the other guests.” He ushered her forward, placing one hand on her back. It was the first time Elize noticed how big his hands were, with how much space on her back they covered.

Elize and Raphael greeted and briefly spoke to many different fiends. Although most were decent, there were a few that made inappropriate comments (mirroring much of Mizora’s own) or looked at Elize’s bosom for too long, prompting Raphael to tighten his hold on Elize.

After a particular demon made a very rude comment, Raphael excused himself, allowing Elize to have a moment alone. She walked towards a balcony and gasped when she saw the sky.

For the past few months, all she had seen beyond the windows of the House of Hope were the hells. When the pair arrived, she had been quick to notice that Mizora’s home lacked the typical scent of Avernus. Now, seeing the moon and the stars shine, Elize felt her eyes watering, and a tear falling down.

She was so entranced that she failed to notice the figure beside her, until a voice spoke. “My lady, why do you cry?”

…

Meanwhile, in a distant room, Raphael had cornered a demon.

The foul creature had stared at Elize’s chest for too long and that had struck a chord with the cambion. He never considered himself to be a particularly righteous man, but it felt wrong to see Elize disrespected like that.

At least, that was what he was trying to convince himself of, as he beat the demon up.

Deep down, Raphael knew, he was jealous. He felt possessive of her, especially after the events of the last few weeks, and to see someone eyeing her, as if she were an object - that, Raphael wouldn’t tolerate. He already had to deal with Mizora’s insinuation earlier, but enough was enough.

‘She is mine.’ He thought, as he sent the demon back to the hell they came from. He straightened his clothes and with a snap of his fingers, the mess was removed from him. Taking a deep breathe, Raphael made his way back to the event.

…

Elize jumped slightly at hearing the voice, but then calmed down. The voice belonged to a dark skinned man, with black braided hair, and eyes of different colors. Due to the two horns sprouting from her head, she believed he must be some type of tiefling, even if he lacked a tail.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She gave him a small smile.

“I apologize.” He gave her a slight bow. “I am Wyll Ravengard, the Blade of the Frontiers.”

“Elize.” She replied. “Pleasure to meet you.”

He smiled. “The pleasure is all mine. But you have not answered my question: what made you cry?”

“Oh, it’s just… I haven’t seen the night sky in a long time.” When he made a face of confusion, she clarified. “I made a deal with a devil and I have been living in Avernus ever since.” Realizing what she just said, Elize followed with “But please, it is not as bad as it seems. It’s quite nice, actually.”

Wyll raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. “If you say so, I believe you.” He said. “But should you ever need help, don’t be afraid to call for help.”

Before he could continue, or Elize could reply, a voice spoke from behind him. “She will do no such thing.” Raphael loomed behind him. “Wyll Ravengard.” The cambion said in a sinister tone. “I see Mizora still has you on a tight leash.”

Wyll turned to face him. “Raphael.” He replied in the same tone. “I see you recovered from the beating we gave you. Maybe I should call Tav over and we can have a rematch.”

“You contemptuous creature, I´ll-”

“Master!” Elize said, interrupting Raphael, who seemed he was about to burst into flames. She took a step forwards, coming in between the two men. When Raphael looked as if he was about to smite Wyll then and there, Elize put a hand on his chest, getting on her tiptoes to whisper “Look, the dancing is about to begin.” Head motioning to the couples making their way to the dance floor.

Raphael looked down at her, jaw still tightened. “Come on, let’s join them.” She said, adjusting a strand of his hair that was out of place. ‘Strange’ she thought ‘his hair was perfectly combed when we left’.

Finally, he took a deep breath and took a step back, placing his hand forward. Elize sighed and took it, allowing him to lead them to the only spot available in between the other couples, the very center of the ballroom.

They took position and began dancing. Raphael was stiff from anger, and he kept looking around the room, which prompted Elize to say “Ignore them. Focus on me.”

He closed his eyes momentarily and opened them again, to Elize giving him a small smile. “I apologize. My mind seems to be elsewhere.”

“It happens.” She replied. At this point in the song, he lifted her upwards, and she held onto his biceps. “Thankfully, you have a very good dance partner to keep you grounded.” Elize said smirking, as he put her down.

Raphael chuckled. “I believe mere hours ago, I was the one who kept you grounded during the steps.” He felt his anger begging to dissipate, the conversation making the room lighter.

“Ah yes, but that was long ago.” Elize replied. “But do tell me, how am I fairing now?”

At that moment, they had gotten to a moment in the dance where Raphael was behind her, holding her hands in a way that her arms were crossed in front of her. As he pulled her close, he whispered the answer in her ear. “You are splendid, my dear.” He eyed her neck, fighting the urge to claim it.

Elize felt a shiver go down her spine as he said that. Eventually, they faced each other again, looking into each other's eyes.

Although she preferred his warm brown human eyes, she still felt as if she could lose herself into the abyss that were Raphael’s devilish eyes. His sclera was black and his irises were of a burning orange circle. As Elize stared into them, she felt as if everyone else faded away, and only the two of them existed in the room.

Raphael, on the other hand, felt a sense of calmness when he looked into Elize’s green eyes. They made him think of a nice spring day, the type of day that invites you to go outside and feel alive. Elize’s eyes were painfully human and he was fond of them. For a moment, he allowed his gaze to lower towards her pink lips and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were as soft as they looked.

As the dance got closer to the end, Raphael whispered. “Elize, forgive me, but I believe I must steal something of yours.”

She frowned. “What is it?”

“A kiss.” Raphael pulled her even closer and kissed her on the mouth. Elize was taken by surprise at first, but then melted under the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his lips on hers, snaking her arms around his neck and back.

Raphael’s hands made their way towards her back, to support her weight as he dipped her, finally letting go of her mouth. As they held the position they had practiced earlier, they once again looked at each other, the same feeling passing through both of them.

When he pulled her close, she whispered “I think we should go somewhere more private.” He smirked and snapped his fingers.

#raphael x oc #raphael x elize #not tav oc #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #beauty and the beast AU #my writing #wyll bg3 #mizora bg3

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sweetbuckybarnes · 1 year

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All This Time, It Was You 7/10

Summary: Colin speaks to Penelope at a ball about her secret.

Tag list: @josephine-waters

Masterlist

It had been over a week since Colin had found out the identity of Lady Whistledown, and he has avoided every ball - which had been noticed by Lady Whistledown. No, Penelope.

His mother had already cornered him, asking him what he was doing as he has avoided going to every ball and the musical over the weekend.

Colin didn't say anything to Violet about Penelope's secret, as far as he knew he was the second person to learn Penelope's secret.

This is how he found himself back at the Featherington ball and unlike last season, he was going to speak to Penelope.

"Colin, please, dearest. Tell me what you are thinking?" Violet asked her son, almost clinging onto his sleeve to stop him from running away.

"I just need to speak to Penelope, mother," Colin says, looking around the garden and trying to find Penelope.

Violet looked up at her son, confused. What was going through his head? Who was he looking for?

"Excuse me, mama," Colin said, pulling away from his mother and over to where he could see Penelope eating a cucumber sandwich. "Miss Feathrington, I must speak to you in private. At once," he tells her as soon as he is stood at her side.

"Not right now, Mr. Anderson is coming over for his dance," Penelope replies.

Colin stares over the top of Penelope's head to see Anderson walking their way. "He's not dancing with you. I am," Colin says, taking her hand in his and leading her out onto the floor.

"Mr. Bridgerton? What on earth are you doing?" Penelope questioned, as Colin held her in place ready for the waltz. "I had promised this dance to Mr. Anderson."

"And now you are dancing with me," Colin said. He watched as Penelope rolled her eyes at him, but made sure to allow him a dance - so she wouldn't make a scene in front of the ton. "But, after this dance, I need to speak to you. In private."

With the final note, Penelope curtsied and Colin bowed - he muttered into her ear. "Meet me outside in two minutes," and he walked outside.

Penelope watched him go as her eyebrows crinkled in confusion. It was something important he had to speak to her about.

A few minutes later, when everyone was focused on the next dance, Penelope made her escape to speak to Colin.

There were only two people who saw Penelope leave. Violet and Eloise.

"What is it you would like to speak to me about, Mr. Bridgerton?" Penelope asked, folding her hands in front of her.

"Penelope, there is no one around, you may call me by name, like you always have," Colin says, taking a step closer - almost too close for proprieties sake.

Penelope doesn't say a word, as she took a small step back.

"Ok, if this is how you are going to be," Colin mutters, looking over Penelope and into the ball - seeing that no one has noticed that they have left, he takes his Pen's hand in his. "Penelope, I know."

"You know what?"

"Penelope, I know," he emphasised his last word.

Her folded hands turned to crossed arms. "There is no need to speak in rhymes Mr. Bridgerton. You know what?"

Colin took her by the elbow and further away from the door. Her surprised shout of 'Colin Bridgerton!' he ignored as he said. "I know you are Lady Whistledown."

Penelope looked at Colin with surprise. "What on earth are you talking about? I'm not Lady Whistledown."

"Yes, you are. I overheard you talking to Eloise last week," he admitted.

"So, you decided to eavesdrop on my private conversation with your little sister?" Penelope asked, crossing her arms, and taking a step back.

"Pen."

"No! I don't want to hear it!"

"Pen, just listen to me!"

"Why would I listen to Eloise's older brother, who has made it quite clear than do not see me as a woman. Only as the little girl who clung to Eloise. I was always more of another sister to you."

"I have never thought of you as my sister!"

Penelope laughed at his statement.

"It's true!"

Penelope continued to laugh and shook her head.

"Oh, for the love of God"

Colin reached over to the laughing Penelope and kissed her.

She was stunned. As soon as Colin pressed his lips to hers, she raised her hand to his face to smack him, but her hand faltered as her heart started to beat faster. Her hand started shaking in time with her heart.

And she sunk.

Penelope wrapped her arms around his neck and shuffled a little closer. Colin wrapped one arm around her waist as the other slid up the nape of her neck and came to rest along her jawline with his thumb resting on her cheek.

Suddenly, she pulled away from him. Penelope blinked repeatedly, raising her fingers to her lips.

"What did you just do?"

#polin #polin fic #polin fanfiction #pen x colin #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

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paroxysmal-distaste · 2 years

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proximity. || ch13, weird

IVE LITERALLY BEEN GONE ONLY BC IM GOING INTO UNIVERSITY IM SO SORRY HERE'S A CHAPTER UIJKRF THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS

◬ Chapter 13 - Weird ◬ ◬ Pairing: Bill Cipher x Fem! Reader ◬ ◬ Date Published: 27/05/2019 ◬ ◬ Word Count: 5146 ◬

Sixty degrees that come in threes. Watches from within birch trees. Saw his own dimension burn. Misses home and can't return. Says he's happy. He's a liar Blame the arson for the fire. If he wants to shirk the blame, He'll have to invoke my name. One way to absolve his crime. A different form. A different time.

...

The entirety of your night was spent tossing and turning, clutching the sides of your head the same way you would if you had a headache. What you had, however, was worse.

Gaining Bill’s powers hadn’t taken a toll on you this badly. Not before, anyways. It’s like your body was allowing you to slowly digest each ability as a way of adjusting and preventing you from going into instant shock (or death) from the sudden change. Evolutionary, perhaps?

Sure, you could handle a little intangibility or teleportation, things that very much differed from your normal ‘day-to-day’ metal control or electrical generation- but last night marked the beginning of a new problem.

Every. single. hour was spent trying to ignore the cacophony of overlapping thoughts from hundreds of different people at once.

Out of both curiosity and as a way to feed your sanity, you managed to tune into the mind of a random but strange individual, probably someone only a few kilometres away from you, only to be marvelled at how disgusting and unfiltered their thoughts were.

Made sense, these were their thoughts- it’s why they’re so personal, and it’s not expected someone could involuntarily end up reading their mind anyways. In some manner, who were you to make judgements about someone in the privacy of their own head? But after hearing that man’s dialogue, you had opted for trying one last time to sleep (out of horror), forcing the multiple human voices to be hushed into white noise.

But those whispers of rhyme… what did they mean? Was it because of Bill?

Your mind drifted off to the events of yesterday.

"Na-ah-ah, doll. You didn't think I'd forget about you calling me your boyfriend, now did you?"

Ugh.

You hated the way Bill made your face glow multiple times a day. Just the very recollection made a bad taste spread across your tongue. Call it a blow to your pride or genuine embarrassment, you didn't care- all you knew was that you didn't like it.

Obviously, your embarrassment was due to his teasing and that would be fine if you had to only dabble in his presence every once in a while, like a proper friend. But he was attached to your hip. He saw every reaction he wanted and he was basically living with you at this point, so moments of embarrassment for you were as clear as day and came more often than not.

After hearing his question, you got a little defensive, turning your head from him, absolutely mortified you had just walked into a trap that will give him enough fuel to last him weeks.

“It was the first thing I thought of! What the hell did you want me to say?” It was a hoarse whisper shout at best, and your eyes flickered to the group of teenagers behind Bill.

Bill’s grin grew so incredibly wide you wanted to slap him for being so annoying. You let out harsh air through your nose as he closed his eyes lightly and tsked, shaking his head.

“Why would that be your first thought?”

You paused.

Ironically? It wasn’t actually your first thought. But still, you could’ve said he was your cousin or family member... you later realised. You chewed on your bottom lip, staring at the ground in thought.

“Doll?”

“Hm? Oh.” You tilted your head up at him, hands on your waist defiantly, “I would’ve told him we were friends but the last time I visited I told him I had no friends, so it was just a precaution. I was being paranoid.”

He snorted, “You got that right.”

You lightly smacked his arm, muttering ,"Which part," before adding, "You're really not the sort of person I'd usually be caught dead hanging out with anyways."

He quirked an eyebrow, a flicker of disdain flashing across his face so fast that it scared you.

"For someone that doesn't have any 'friends', you've got quite the mouth on you." He replied almost a little too quickly, as if he was ready to pounce at any sign of your rebellion.

"I don't have any friends because I don't want any. Sort of requiring too much effort–especially with my time spent on people I'm never going to talk to again 5 years from now. Not because of my personality or anything." You sounded unsure now, and perhaps a little insecure. Pure pure coping right now.

Friends were something you had barely stayed in contact with, but it still hurt to not have anybody checking up on you. After a while it was something you got used to, and nowadays having friends seems to be more of a burden than anything else. It didn't matter, you told yourself, you've got your work to focus on.

"Maybe that IS why you don't have any."

Your mind had already drifted into another hazy thought and the 'friend topic' was now gone. Hearing Bill's comment had actually made you falter in what the hell he was going on about this time.

"I hope you realise how bad that sounds." You replied absentmindedly, slapping a hand over your forehead and cringing when you realised what you said.

"Hm? Your mind's going there, huh?" He smoothed his hand over his opposite forearm, smiling at you with eyes half-lidded. The look would be complete if he had a cat's tail waving mischievously behind him. Or maybe the Devil's tail.

You flushed trying to cover up your mistake and backtracking, "Not like that, God." A glance from side to side and then back to Bill made you squint at him this time, "...Besides, I don't see your friends anywhere."

"I don't just keep my friends nailed to my sleeve, doll. Not anymore. They're waiting for my return in my dimension, you'll see." He smiled sleazily at you, like he knew more than you did.

God, it was annoying how he seemed to have a response for everything.

You snorted as his grin grew wider, "No but seriously doll! Last time you visited, you also hadn’t met me.” He used both hands to refer to himself proudly and raised his eyebrows like what he was saying was factual and he was just waiting for you to get it.

“Aww, what are you saying? That you do see me as your friend?” You held your hands together, and batted your eyelashes, scrunching your nose with a smile.

Bill rolled his eyes, “Unfortunately for you, doll, I’m not your boyfriend.” He diverted his attention to the teenagers talking behind the two of you, a fire lighting up inside his eyes when he settled his vision of fury on Dipper.

“Very funny. What would I know about relationships? Clearly you're the expert– pathetic me would stand no chance in the presence of Bill Cipher.” You spoke sarcastically, whispering the last part, deciding to play along mostly out of curiosity.

I mean, who could really blame you? This dream demon talked so much mad game, it would be next to impossible to not feel even an ounce of intrigue in whether or not he's actually managed to be hooked into the life of another romantically. "So tell me, have you ever been in one?" You asked boldly, gnawing on the inside of your cheek.

Bill looked away, "I don't know what you're referring to."

Your eyebrows furrowed, embarrassment beginning to creep up your neck at the question, "You... you know what I mean. Relationships."

“...I don’t like to engage in human affairs,” he huffed, turning to examine his surroundings. The action was suspiciously avoidant and you crossed your arms and tilted your head, a gleam beginning to show in your eye.

“Wait. So you’ve never-” you caught yourself as the words began to fly off your tongue and into the air.

Bill whipped his head over at you after eavesdropping at the Pines and your brother’s conversation, “What? Whaddaya mean?”

You blinked innocently.

“I mean,” you fiddled with the hem of your coat, regretting indulging into your , “You’ve… you’ve never…?”

If Bill knew what you were hinting at, he definitely didn’t show it. His face showed how perplexed he was and he nudged his head to tell you to continue. Another trap? Probably.

“Out of all the trillions of years you’ve existed, and the billions you’ve had in contact with humans, not one time, as a human… have you ever…” You avoided his gaze.

He squinted.

If he wants to play games, so can you. Ask and see his reaction. Then... gaslight gatekeep girlboss? You weren't sure, you were just curious to see what he would say if you referred to something more. Curiosity, that was it.

“Had contact with a human.”

Bill’s eyes widened, his milky one catching your glance.

Now he was getting it.

“So that’s the human affair you were referring to.”

Your own eyes widened and you frantically waved your hands side to side, partly in an attempt to see his reaction before taking it back like an absolute coward, "No, I just meant the whole relationship part! Not that intimately. Unless you wanna answer- I meant, you’ve never had a significant other before? Not even as a deal?”

Nailed it.

He stared at you as if you were slimy. “As a deal? How desperate do you think I am?”

“Not sure if you want that answered, to be frank,” you stuck your tongue out to the side as he crossed his arms and glared at you.

Bill looked like he was going to retort quickly but B/N’s voice from behind interrupted first, “Guys, I’m taking my leave now!”

Right, you had forgotten that you were conversing outside the Mystery Shack, with a couple of teenagers having their own talk a few metres away from you.

And that brought you to here, at home.

As soon as you arrived home, you dropped your body onto the couch and fell asleep. Bill must've noted this earlier because when he wrapped his arm around you to teleport the two of you home, he murmured something about your obvious eyebags.

You sniffled and didn't reply, slightly ashamed that your disgustingly unstable sleep schedule was beginning to show on your face.

When you awoke however, the last thing you expected to find was a warm thick crochet blanket you kept in the linen laid across your body. Well, across was an overstatement. It looked like someone threw the blanket in your direction and hadn't bothered to straighten it out.

It was as if the intention was there, but the effort wasn't.

You sighed, Bill.

Your toes curled as you stretched your legs and you hazily opened your eyes, blinking to unblur your vision. What you did not expect was Bill's transparent eyeball inches away from your face.

"Y'ellow."

A shrill scream left your throat and you, quite terrified, scurried your body back to lean against the couch arm rest, breathing heavily as Bill only burst into laughter and pointed at you, "You should have seen the look on your face!"

Your hand automatically went over your heart as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, in some effort to calm down. Smacking your lips together, you clicked your tongue and looked away from him for a second, finding the words to express your annoyance.

Rubbing your eyes harshly, that's when you noticed that it was Bill floating in front of you. Not his human body, but his triangle outlined form - the same way he looked when you first met him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Wait, how are you- oh my God." You half screamed as your eyes trailed to the doorway, where Bill's body laid, his eyes hallowed out.

It looked like a legitimate corpse- it's mouth wide open, its soulless and limp display like... well... a puppet. Bill really has outdone himself this time and your top lip wavered, "W-what the hell did you do?!"

Bill's single eye trailed to the stiff and cold body laying on the ground in front of your room.

"Oh, that?" He pointed before flying over to it, attempting to kick it only to have his foot go through it, "Apparently these meat sacks need rest, so I figured if I just leave it for a while, I won't have to actually sleep."

You frowned, pinching the bridge of your nose. Despite his mental age, this had to be one of the stupidest logical fallacies he's ever displayed, "Bill, you still have to sleep in it. If you go back in it later, it's not going to be any less deprived of sleep than it was before. Your soul may not require the sleep, but the body does and it probably needs something to occupy it to really count as 'sleeping.'"

Bill didn't reply, but instead went back into Brendan's body, the hallow eye sockets filling with eyeballs and his skin brightening. He stood up, and dusted himself off. "Happy now?"

"Sure." You replied, letting your back hit the couch and pulling the blanket over your shoulder. "Now go away, I want to sleep some more."

"Aren't you forgetting doll? We have to go shopping for tomorrow's party! Remember the plan?" He squatted himself down in front of your body and lifted a hair strand away from your face, a gesture that made you swat away his hand.

You groaned, "Bill please, we can do that later. Just let me sl...." Your hand waving in his face caused him to gently grab your wrist and set it down, "Doll, I might just have to leave my body again if you don't get up right this second."

You sat up suddenly, "I'd rather die."

"Now that's the spirit!"

"Alright, you seem to know Gravity Falls more than I do. Where to?"

The two of you were stationed in the middle of the Gravity Falls town, with a variety of stores surrounding you. To be quite honest, it looked larger from the inside, especially with the escalators on either side of the mall indicating a second floor.

"Gravity Malls. But that place is disgusting. I don't want any old peasant streetwear. I want to look charming." Bill flashed a cheesy grin and shut his eyes, almost as if to imagine cloudy visions of paparazzi photographing him or something.

"Let me see what I have and what we can afford." You reluctantly pulled out your phone and removed three five dollar notes and a coin from its case pocket. "I have $17- nope, never mind. That is a chocolate coin."

"Think you can cover for me? I'm not very liquid right now." Bill turned his pockets inside out and a white moth flew out of it. That's how poor he was. You raised an eyebrow and blinked at him quizzically.

"What if I conjure something? I mean what good are these powers if I don't put them to use?"

Bill nodded, "As much as I hate to admit it, you are almost as strong as me, but that doesn't mean your fleshy body is." He pokes your side, "Think you're up to it, doll?"

"How hard can it be? It can't be that difficult." You stated, squirming away from his touch and looking up at him with your eyes wide.

"That's both cute and ignorant, sweets."

You laughed, shaking your head, "Well, I'm not even going so it shouldn't be a problem to only focus on your outfit."

Bill stopped and turned to you, grasping your shoulders dramatically, "What! I thought we had a mutual agreement! A deal, even."

You gently removed his hands from your shoulders and stared at him, "Bill... I don't know... I don't think it's a good idea using Old Man McGucket. I've heard he's a little wacko now. I don't doubt he's a nice man but I'm skeptical on how he could be of service to us."

"It's the best chance we've got! You do want this portal completed, don't you?"

"Yeah, but what am I going to say? 'Hey, can you help me assemble a portal leading to another dimension?'" You asked rhetorically in a dumb and mocking voice, Bill rolling your eyes at your lack of confidence in him.

"You need this just as much as I do, you just gotta confide in my ability to sway others. It worked on you, didn't it?"

"You KNOW that's not true. I only agreed because we both mutually benefit from ridding me of your insane powers." You walked ahead of him as the two of you strode through the double doors of Gravity Malls.

"That's how it always starts, doll. That's how it aaaaalways starts." He jogged a little to keep up with you and you only rolled your eyes at his mindless comments.

"Oh you shush," you put your hand on his face and pushed aside, Bill spluttering at your sudden contact to his delicate features, as he would call them.

"Hands off. Besides, I'll do the talking. I just want you to fancy up a little! You're too... high strung."

"So those are your true intentions." You bit your lip, "The whole thing just seems weird to me- it's not really my... scene. Usually it's me, my work and I. What the hell do I know about a masquerade ball? Which is, super old fashioned by the way." Waving your arms about, you ultimately stopped your movement outside of a store called 'Edgy on Purpose' and spun around for his reply.

"Come on, sugar?" He neared you, licking his top lip, "For me?" The new nickname made your eye twitch.

"You just gave me even more of a reason not to do it." Honestly, this whole event seemed really intriguing and maybe a little fun, but with your lack of sociability, you did not want to fumble, especially in front of Bill.

Bill groaned, rubbing his temples indecisively. Wow, he was the fed up one?

"Okay, then please? For you? You gotta live a little, ya know? Otherwise you'll never have those friends you always complain about not existing."

You groaned, eyes shut and in deep thought, crossing your arms and tilting your head to the side.

Maybe there's no harm in it.

"Letting that slide. But... alright. I'll go." Your lips were pulled taut into a straight line, but it was to hide the smile that you knew so well that Bill would eat up. Surprisingly, as soon as you uncrossed your arm, Bill grinned and pulled you into a hug, catching you, (and probably anyone, since its Bill) off guard. You tensed, your arms stiff and set on your sides. Honestly you would've hugged him back if you weren't so dumbfounded.

"You won't regret it." He said, suddenly realising what he was doing and pulling away, patting your back roughly and brushing off his shoulder. Had to be one of the most out of character actions from Bill, so much so that you questioned if maybe someone else had possessed this body for a second. He seemed more indulged in his own reaction to even begin to notice the warm glow emitting from your cheeks, something you slapped yourself in the face lightly for feeling.

"I-I hope so," you mustered weakly.

"Right, so because you're new to this, we should find ourselves a more basic version of our outfits. A base, if you will. Something that just matches the colour."

"Have anything in mind?" You questioned.

Bill tapped his chin in fake thought, "Tell me if you get the picture, doll." He suddenly grabbed the back of your head and pulled it towards his own, your foreheads just barely connecting. He shut his eyes, almost as if he was getting you to read his mind.

On cue, you felt an image manifest itself in your brain and as it grew clearer, you realised what it was. "Woah, that's kind of cool," you breathed, more about the mind connection than anything else.

Yellow, almost a gold shimmering tailcoat, with black sleeves, gloves and tailored pants. That was Bill's idea? Sure.

You cocked your head but didn't say anything particular about it, "Guess we'll need a yellow shirt and black jeans." The two of you walked into Edgy on Purpose and awkwardly went on the look out for what you needed.

After picking the two articles of clothing off of the nearest rack, Bill suddenly spun around, almost causing you to trip over, "What colour dress are you going for, doll?"

Right, you were attending too, you almost forgot. You shrugged, "I don't usually do this so I don't really know where to start. Any pointers?"

Bill scanned the store, eyes squinted before pausing. He walked over to a rack, pulled a summer dress off and held it up for you to see.

"How bout it, doll?" He waved the dress at you and wagged his eyebrows in a silly manner, seemingly proud of the choice he made upon seeing the broad grin forming on your face.

Your fingers rubbed at the end of the dress, feeling for the fabric's quality. "Wait- how did you know F/C was my favourite colour?"

"How did I know that you talk in your sleep?" Bill's own smile disappeared almost as fast as it appeared and he lowered the dress, "Who's Oliver?"

You gaped like a fish, "E-excuse me?"

One hand on his hip showed how much he was demanding an answer for someone who should not be in any place to be asking invasive questions, "You heard me, doll, who is this 'Oliver' character ?"

The phrasing of his question was enough to make you giggled but you relented with the pressing question of: how does he know about your ex?!

"Were you- did you- You watched me sleep!?"

"Yes. Who's Oliver?"

You turned away, both embarrassed and irritated, "No one, just an old flame."

Bill waved his hand up and down, as if to signal you to keep talking. You squinted your eyes, "I heard he lives here now, so I don't know... I was thinking about him for a bit. That's probably why I dreamed about him briefly."

Bill looked at you, very annoyed, "Why didn't you mention it before?"

You swung around, shocked that he would say that. "Why would I? It's not really something I would bring up. To be frank, I didn't think even you cared that much about my personal life unless it benefitted you. Am I wrong?"

Bill frowned, not knowing what to say.

The feeling bubbling up in your chest hurt a little, and you weren't sure if it was the sudden mention of Oliver's name all over again or Bill's reaction that made you feel so sick.

"It's not really an experience I'd like to detail again."

"My mistake, doll."

"Its... whatever, let me pay for these." You snatched the dress from his hand and walked a few metres to the cash register, leaving Bill stunned. He wiggled his fingers as his arm was bent and held close to his torso, unsure of how to approach you next.

You exhaled, passing your clothing items to the cashier. She looked at you slyly, "How long have you two been together?"

Your eyes shot up, clear contempt swirling within them, almost as if to challenge her to continue, "Sorry?"

The guilt would come later for how rude you were being, it just seemed like the world kept throwing hints at you about Bill– and you had no idea how to take it.

The cashier looked taken aback by the emotion in your pupils before she pushed her lips up in the direction of Bill, "Him. That man, you two were arguing about something. You just looked like you were a couple and I was going to offer a piece of advice."

"Urm, what makes you say that?" You asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable as you took out your money from your phone case.

The cashier trained her eyes on him, "The way he looks at you."

You turned around, only to make eye contact with Bill. His pursed lips turned in a smile. You immediately felt bad now for your previous reaction.

"Thanks." You mumbled, taking your bag with newly bought items, walking to Bill and dragging him by the hand.

Bill visibly brightened at this, "Getting touchy already?"

Weird. He said 'hands off' not long ago. I guess he doesn't like anything in his face.

Aaand you're overthinking again.

You shook your head dismissively, pressing your lips together, "No, the cashier was just... being weird." You let go of his hand at the mention of it, and wiped it against your coat.

Bill fake pouted.

"Let's go home. We've got some party outfits to make."

“The answer is yes, doll.”

“Hm?” You tweaked your head to catch Bill laying on the couch, book in hand. No idea where it came from, since it wasn’t yours- but he didn’t seem morally grounded enough to not commit petty theft, so you settled on that.

“You asked me earlier if I’ve had… that human contact.” He gave you a side glance.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their head, “Oh-! But... but I thought you said you didn’t engage in human affairs. I guess, unless it benefits you?” You sat up from your own seat, shifting to make yourself comfortable for this conversation.

Seated where you were, you had been laying the newly bought clothes on the table and dressing them on a mannequin, with a lot of struggle.

Bill obviously didn't help, so it was mostly silent with the two of you basking in each other's company. That is, until Bill randomly spoke.

“I said I didn’t like to engage, not that I didn’t.” He snapped, shutting his book and mirroring you, staring across the room mindfully.

You watched his jaw clench, “You know, if the topic makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to-“

“Don’t patronise me.”

You gulped, looking away and tucking your legs beneath your chest. Bill cast a glare towards you before sighing, “It wasn’t part of a deal, like you said. But I had to persuade some people my own way. Sometimes the situation called for it, and a demons’ gotta do what a demons’ gotta do.” You didn’t miss the glimpse he gave you to gauge your response and you tightened your lips.

“Well," you paused, "...It sounds like a very regrettable stage in your life.”

“It was- is. Having to associate with meat sacks in that manner, doll- it was torture. Not in the pleasant kind either. It was…” he wiggled his fingers, staring deeply at them like they held a secret.

“Wait, are we talking about the same thing? How… how far did you go?” The lump in your throat demonstrated how unfamiliar you found discussing a topic you weren't experienced in. Luckily, Bill was on the other spectrum- knowledge truly was a curse at times.

However, it was because you were inexperienced that hearing about a demon's own form of affection appeared so interesting.

“You know… the act where humans press their lips on each other? Just the very thought of it makes me want to flip myself inside out.” He was somewhat like a child- all this intimate conversation disgusted him.

“A kiss?”

“Gah, I know what it is, I’m not 1 billion.”

“Well what else do you want me to call it? Because that’s what it is- it’s kissing. Generally it’s not that unpleasant, so I think you might’ve just been kissing the wrong people.” You crossed your arms, ignoring the nudge in your skull saying, What do you know? You've only kissed like two guys. Not even.

“What? And you know?” He sounded disgusted, and you furrowed your brows, sulking.

“Uh, yeah- I’m human?”

“Right right, sorry doll. I had forgotten you and Oliver probably got it on many times over.” He air quotes you with his fingers, a resentful scowl growing on his face.

The mention of his name again in a private setting versus a public one like the mall made you unbelievably upset, “Hey- don’t… don’t say that.”

“Look what this stupid vessel is doing to me. I’m becoming more human! I'm... feeling... things. It's dreadful." Bill stared at you, like you were the source of his problems, "Doll, all the more reason to hurry this up so we can go our separate ways." He suddenly stood up and began to leave the room, riling up your emotions more, "Hey! Running away never solved anything! It's cowardly!" You bit your lip, regretting that last part.

He stopped walking and eerily turned his head over at you, "Not wanting to engage in pathetic chatter with a proletarian isn't cowardly. It's self preserving."

You stared at him, amazed at his sudden cruelty while he just scoffed and continued to walk away. A sigh escaped your lips. With Bill? It's always 3 steps forward and 10 million microsteps back. He brought up the topic too!!

Progress with Bill was almost impossible, but to say you hadn't seen a change in his behaviour towards you for the past few days, would've been a total lie. Now it looks like that had all unravelled. What had happened? What did you do wrong? Maybe he was right, maybe he was turning more human. You hoped it wasn't something that ignited from you.

Maybe that's why he surprised you when you were napping with his translucent form. He tried to cover up his reasoning with his twisted humour in seeing you frightened at the corpse-like appearance of Brendan laying on the floor, hollow and lifeless.

Bill knew you were going to see it at one point so he might as well have called attention to it himself and explained it.

It meant-

It meant that that little sneak was lying. He didn't leave Brendan's body so he didn't have to sleep in it. He's not stupid- Bill should know that leaving a body doesn't suddenly make it replenish itself.

Suddenly, it occurred to you why.

He left it because he could feel himself becoming more human.

So he was trying to spend some time in his normal default form because he probably felt himself getting carried away with his mind conforming to how a human brain thinks.

To how a human brain feels.

He probably felt scared. Embarrassed, even. He was changing into something he wasn't comfortable with.

Bill was slowly becoming more and more human, and you weren't what you could do about it.

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fangirlshrewt97 · 1 year

Text

A Dog’s A Heavy Burden

Well I think it has been forever (3 weeks?) since I last posted something. So sorry folks, real life has swamped me, but I am hopeful in the next couple weeks I might get some more time to write (especially TAOAT).

Anyways, this is the shortest piece I’ve ever published but the idea was so cute (inspired by a gifset that crossed my dashboard). Plus I just wanted to write something cause it has been forever.

And I couldn’t find the photo of these two I actually wanted, but the story is about them so here’s a cute photo instead:

Let me know what you think!

///

"Ram! Are you ready? We need to leave in a few minutes to meet your sister in time." Upasana called out as she touched up her hair in front of the bathroom mirror.

No response.

"Ram!" Upasana called out again.

Still silence.

Upasana frowned. Usually, her husband gave some sort of acknowledgement. Especially if he was in the next room.

She peered out the door, brows furrowing when her husband was nowhere to be seen. Hadn’t he said he would be back by now?

Grabbing her earrings, she started to put them on as she walked in search of her spouse.

Both the kitchen and the home gym were empty. Just where was he?

"Ram?" Upasana called out again from the middle of the house. Finally, she heard a faint reply from the direction of the hall.

She walked that way, a little annoyed from the search. Just what was he playing at?

"Ram! We're going to be late!" She said as she approached the hall.

"Sorry Upsi, I'm kind of stuck." Ram called out.

Stuck? What?

Upasana hurried into the hall, stopping at the entryway with wide eyes. She bit her lips to keep from laughing at the sight.

Charan was sprawled out on the floor on his back, still in his running clothes. On his chest laid a very cozy looking Rhyme, tail thumping rhythmically with Charan's head scratches.

"Really dear?" Upasana said, covering her mouth to hide her smile.

Charan craned his neck backward to look at her with pleading eyes. "Don't laugh! I can't get up!"

Upasana raised an eyebrow, "Can't? Or won't?"

Charan pouted at her before looking at the sleeping dog on his chest. Slowly he bent his elbows and tried to leverage himself up, only to have Rhyme growled and bat her paw in his face. Charan dropped back to the floor. Rhyme sank back down, rubbing her nose against his sternum before closing her eyes. Then she opened them again and yapped at him, making Charan's hand jump up to scratch at her head.

Upasana's shoulders shook from restrained laughter.

Charan looked at her again. "I'm trapped."

Upasana nodded once, earlier annoyance disappearing in front of this adorable and ridiculous scene. She walked forward to kneel at his side, and pet down Rhyme's back, making the little dog make happy sniffling sounds. She slowly slid a hand in between Charan's chest and Rhyme's belly, and lifted.

Rhyme whined for a minute until Upasana tucked her under her own chin, cradling her like a baby.

She looked up at her husband who was staring at her with a besotted look on his face.

Her smile was soft but equally fond as she poked Charan's side. "Go get ready, the driver will be here in 10 minutes."

Charan sat up, leaning over to press a kiss on his wife's cheek. "You're incredible."

Upasana laughed. "Among the many reasons you married me. Now go."

Charan smiled his patent boyish grin (the one that still made her blush like in their school days). "Yes ma'am."

Upasana watched as he left the room to get ready, hopefully quickly. She looked down at the dog staring at her with sleepy eyes. She cooked at Rhyme. "What was it girl, felt like sleeping on Dad? Did he make a good pillow?"

Rhyme barked, making Upasana laugh. "Yeah, I agree. He's quite comfortable."

///

Tagging (If I missed out on anyone in the taglist, please let me know!): @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @junebugyeahhh @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @jrntrtitties @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864 @zackcrazyvalentine @stanleykubricks @tulodiscord @teddybat24 @sally-for-sally @jadebomani @stuckyandlarrystuff @veteran-fanperson @ohfuckoffpls @carminavulcana @boochhaan @doodlesofthelastpage @filesbeorganized @meownique @ssabriel

#rrr #rrr fanfic #charak #ram charan #rhyme konidela #upasana konidela #my fic #my writing

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braemjeorn · 3 months

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CHAPTER X [masterlist]

pairing: bang chan x ofc

genre: general audience

notes/warning: regency period drama; siblings; special guest; snark; talks of the past; mentions of fighting.

wordcount: 2.8k

summary: loving relatives and past revelations

also available in ao3, if you prefer that format

⚠️ All characters that shares the name of real life person in this story are represented in a fictional manner for entertainment purpose, and not to be alluded with real life.

TAGLIST: @spookykryptoniteperson @nixtape-foryou @do-you-know-what-else-is-big

August ends not ten days after the ball. By autumn, Lady Jang returned to town to meet her sisters. Mr Bambam was to escort her, so the family assembled outside again, wishing cherished guests and a favoured uncle a safe journey. But their humour, in Mari's eyes, was hardly affected by the departure.

For the boys, it was looser decorum in a smaller company, thus more attention from the Commodore. He used the leisurely time to teach the older boys fencing and let them look about the stables. The only thing to pull him away would be matters concerning the harvest season. There was much labour and business to attend in his study or the fields. The boys would seek the fields and orchards for their walks, curious to see the threshing and fruit picking, hawk eyes pointing out their father among the crowd of workers.

That day was a cloudy sort. But the breeze was fresh while nature’s colours rippled to some warmth. Commodore Bang was returning from a field of his tenants with sprightly steps and a little tune. Any particular reason to his delight, he could not point out. Seungmin’s name day had passed a couple of days ago, and quite a celebratory dinner it was. His own and Minho’s will follow in a few weeks. Those might be the reason—and supplied with the joys in recent weeks, he might declare the birthday will turn out better than the previous years. Commodore Bang relished the delightful spirit about him these days. It was as if the earth and other living things about him noticed too, and indulged in his goodwill. He thought that even if rain fell, those droplets may only make him laugh — surprised and delighted to be alive.

He was now threading the gravel towards home, eager for warm tea and biscuits. But then his ear caught a noise, and he felt confused to have missed the approach of a carriage. The Commodore paused before the stairs, waiting as the carriage stopped before him. A footman hurried down to open the door. The Commodore approached, ready to make his welcome however unexpected. Whatever news the visitor might bring, or whether they wished to see another instead of him; his pleased mood would not even make him refuse strangers wishing a tour of Barlnshore. The carriage door opened wide—he saw a hat of plumes and ribbons, a solid green pelisse. The face under the hat looked up, and Commodore Bang started—it had been long since he had a such surprise.

“Hannah!?”

The lady’s frown softened with the amusement in her eyes, at seeing her brother gaping still, then regaining himself to approach and offer a hand to help her down.

“Oppa,” came her acknowledgement.

“What are you doing here?!” came his shrill question after a series of warm embraces. "Why is your hat so big?!"

Ms Bang looked up; the plumes flicked over her brother's nose, “Looking for my nephews—where are they?”

“Out walking with the others and their gov–...ver... What?” A basket was shoved into his fumbling hand, and the Commodore shook his head. “Wait a minute, here! What are you doing? Here?”

“Can't you do a better rhyming?” Ms Bang returned.

Her brother was not amused. “Bang Haena.”

“Can't I visit my only, older brother?” she reasoned with a raised brow.

“...Don’t mock me.”

Ms Bang smiled; Commodore despaired, and both advanced towards the house.

“I was making us even,” she said.

“Unbelievable,” her brother muttered.

“My husband has an appointment in town. Rather than waiting hours for him to settle an agreement and being the obliging wife, I thought I'd benefit from the proximity to act the dutiful sister.”

“This far away north?”

“The client moved to this area some months ago and was very insistent on our Mr Go’s audience. But it benefits me instead, perhaps.”

“You should have given me notice—”

“Why should I, when I am only to stay until before dinner?”

Commodore Bang glanced at his sister, and with a surrendering sigh, he asked, “How is Mother? And Wonnie?”

“Nothing unusual. Mother is always well, cooking to her heart's content—but do visit her, you perpetually anxiety-inducing child!—She misses you!”

Ms Bang had sharply turned in reprimanding her brother. Commodore Bang faltered in his steps, but did not miss to answer, “Christmas and New Year—I promised!”

They ascended the stairs and he gave the basket to the maid. “The boys will love those cinnamon buns.”

“I know they will. And those are rolls. Did your house get bigger?” she asked, whilst removing her gloves and hat. “I've always thought the place too big.”

“And I will tell you again how useful the rooms will be when the boys begin to prefer seclusion,” Commodore Bang replied.

“Appa always wondered if you wanted to build your own naval army.”

“I merely wanted a girl. Circumstances disagreed and made me suffer by making each of my boys so loveable.”

“Your dedication is too admirable,” Ms Bang muttered. Mr Kang descended the stairs at that moment, and she shook his hand with much joy. By the time the boys had returned, the Commodore had situated her comfortably in the drawing room. She sat behind the pianoforte, while Minatozaki-san was serving tea. Thus when Mari returned with the boys, a lively jig was playing. The women were goading Commodore Bang's dislike of this sort of tune. She gave a flair to the tunes and returned his retorts, though it was harmless banter, by the Commodore's amused and exasperated eyes.

But the attention soon turned to the little rascals, which she received in equal high spirit. Between the boys' voices falling over one another—making rushed greetings or regaling Appa of their adventures and discovery—Minatozaki-san pulled Mari into the circle, and made the introductions between her and the Commodore’s sister. Lady Jang and Ms Bang carried a similar air in their manners and fashion. But while Lady Jang exuded distance in her politeness, Ms Bang had an easier air. She remarked that the boys must have fatigued her. Mari assured the negative, she had accustomed to it. The lady laughed, led her to sit and asked of the boys and her stay in Barlnshore.

“Three months!?” Ms Bang wondered, turning to the boys lounging on the floor or plastered to their father’s side. She turned again to Mari, and commented, “And no pale face nor haggard eyes. Must I congratulate your adeptness? No wonder my brother is in such good humour.”

Ms Bang's frank words were not for mere politeness — more to ease Mari into the company. Not that Mari hadn't, but the comfortable air delighted her nonetheless. She knew before Ms Bang she could do with less strained politeness to appease a high society's leading figure. Mari was still wary in the presence of a newcomer, thus merely inclined her head.“...I suppose, Ma’am.”

At being referred, Commodore Bang looked up to them. "Don't bother her, Hannah. She has the boys for that."

"I was only asking for her well-being! Which can't be said for you!" Mari saw Minatozaki-san's shaking head and smiled into her cup. The bicker was all in good nature, even if the Commodore looked far too pleased in riling his sister.

“Why do you stare at me so?” Mari looked down as the attention returned to her. Ms Bang turned to one of the mirrors. “It’s my hair, isn’t it? I gave up on my curls this morning so I tucked them all in instead.”

“Not at all about your appearance," Mari amended, but soon thought better of it. "Well, it might be. Forgive me — I know you are siblings—but I was often perplexed when I discovered the resemblance between blood relations."

“Unfortunately for her,” Commodore Bang murmured. Ms Bang glared at him but smiled when turning to Mari again.

“If you see it that way." She sighed, "The things they ask of when I go to town—‘Bang? You must be Commodore Bang’s sister; how is he?' No, he's my cousin." Mari grinned at the drawling impersonation. "'You must be very proud of him! Thirteen enemy ships in three years!’ Heavens, do I look like his herald pigeon? It was all everyone clamoured about. It would have been truly delightful if we had lived next to each other!”

“You have no interest in me,” the Commodore said in mocking lament.

“Oppa, you’ve done very well, but Mother gushes about it enough for us. Seungmin, my darling boy! Are those flowers for me? Kiss me!"

Ms Bang remained in their company until dinner, as she had decided. She even joined the boys to let them brag about their new toys upstairs. In return, they devoured her buns and begged for more, which she obliged by promising her next visit. Her carriage was called again, with dozens of flying kisses and promises for letters from the rest of the family. She grasped Mari’s hands warmly, wishing her well in her teaching. Then Commodore Bang helped her down the stairs and into the carriage.

“You look well,” Ms Bang quietly remarked to her brother. The Commodore paused before the closed door, eyes expectant.

“Mama will be quite satisfied that I can attest your letters. She was delighted to hear your improvements from Sana, of course, but had some hesitance to accept it.”

“She is welcome to visit any time. You all are. I am better now to do so,” said the Commodore. “But do send word and let me prepare your rooms next time—even for a day’s visit. That I need not send you away so late like this.”

Were they younger Ms Bang would have shrugged. With her age and grace, a tilting head gave the same effect. “If it pleases you.”

Commodore Bang smiled and kissed her hand. He urged the driver on and waved along with the boys.

The growing cold air exchanged their walks for language study or music. Even so, the Commodore and his men were still occupied in the winter preparation. His study door was kept open throughout; what with the frequent visitors and his seeking comfort in the boys' presence. Yet despite Mari's effort to prevent them from causing a disturbance, nothing had deterred them from calling out to him while passing the door. One time Seungmin calmly approached his table only to say, ”Dda!” before skittering back out of the room to his brothers. His father's laugh broke out in disbelief, infecting others in the room with hilarity.

One such afternoon after such discussions, Mari visited his study. The door was open, and the room empty of his visitors, but the Commodore was not there. Her ear caught muffled tunes playing hesitantly from another side of the wall. Lightly, she approached the small door in the corner and peered in. Commodore Bang sat before the piano, some music sheets set before him. He was writing down the tunes, worrying his lips as he pressed a few keys. He hummed and repeated a few bars—only to frown further. Then he huffed, set his pencil down and played a joyful tune. It was not one on the papers before him, his fingers were familiar with the escalating melody. He knew the song by heart. A smile tugged on his lips as the last tune played. Then he looked up, acknowledging Mari with some surprise. Mari herself fumbled at his notice.

"My apologies, sir. I wished to speak to you — but you were playing very well."

"Did you like it?" Commodore Bang asked, pleased at the praise.

"I did." Mari felt no qualms about admitting her awe at the moment. Music is her leisure enjoyment, but so is listening to others play. They were still for a moment, before Mari continued, “Am I disturbing your inspiration, sir?”

Commodore Bang let out a light chuckle. He shook his head, “Nay, I jotted down some notes, though it did not give the feeling I should like. I'll leave it anyway. Is anything the matter?”

Mari kept still as he tidied his papers and writings, measuring her words before speaking again.

“Will you consider sending Minho and Changbin back to school, sir?”

Commodore Bang looked up at her in surprise. He hummed as he continued tidying, then walked towards her with a considering hiss. “Well… I suppose their age beckons necessity to send them into a broader society.”

“Of course, to mingle with their peers — and broaden their academic knowledge, especially. Surely, you have plans for this? Because you did say in your first letter I was only to be in charge of five pupils.”

Commodore Bang laughed in apology and led them out to walk down the hallway.

“Have you mentioned this to them, Miss Son?”

"Sometimes, when we discuss their readings. I was often at a loss for a decent answer. I thought that even with the books in the library, a well-learned teacher would explain it better to them.”

“Minho was in a fight, some two years ago,” Commodore Bang abruptly divulged.

Mari paused. “Oh.” Her head turned; the window in the hallway they walked looked out to the garden, where the boys were playing. There were some muffled whines from Minho as Seungmin and Hyunjin tackled him down. The others laughed over them.

“He did?” she asked again, mind muddled. However much Minho snapped at his brothers, she didn't think he would go as far as raising a hand. She might ask the boy why instead of chastising him — or worse turning on him.

Commodore Bang smiled, though he let out a sombre sigh. “Foul words and jeerings were involved, I recall—about him being motherless. And the proud, thoughtless young thing, punched the boy right in the nose. Changbin tried to stop him, but the blows broke into a scuffle. You know Minho and his tempers by now, I'm sure. He was quite the little storm, his teachers said — you'd see it in his eyes. You disapprove, I know, but he came out victorious,” he turned to Mari and found her frowning. “Well, you do disapprove. Either way, he and the other boy met again before the principal; Minho looked at him like he was some weasel. I dared not think what other words he had heard to look so murderous. They called me to return him to my care. The other boy’s mother demanded retributions for her child and claimed Minho was an ill, violent thing. I paid them little mind and drew Changbin along from that institution — they saved no breaths to praise how much more proper the younger one was. Alas, the two are attached. I thought it might be better for them to stay at home for some while, and thought to find them another school. Unfortunately, the stay has… lengthened to a year and a half now.”

There was a pause before Mari spoke again, “From the way his younger brothers teased him daily, Minho has quite the patience.”

“You could never expect to know what ignites that one. Though by now, I am sure you know that Changbin has the shorter patience.”

Their gaze met, which soon broke into laughter.

“Commodore, you are cruel,” she sighs. “They are your boys.”

“I’m acknowledging his faults,” the man deflected.

The assured quiet after was comfortable, as they watched the boys play around their new swing. A stumble later, they decided to pile over Minho, as well as they could. Commodore Bang chuckled with amusement, while Mari winced.

“At their age I was already in the naval academy, waiting to cross over the waves,” Commodore Bang mused.

“Will they not follow your path?” Mari wondered.

The Commodore shook his head, “They don’t live by the sea. They’re far too much of a countryman, like their mother’s people. At that time I joined to help my family. It was seven years before I could captain my ship, but somehow my friends and I managed through… It went well. It comes to good ends after all.”

“Ten thousand a year now, sir,” Mari piped, inducing his abashed chuckle.

“I will start inquiring about schools,” the Commodore assured quietly. “Indeed I have — neglected them too long. It would not do. Either way, some of my acquaintances might share their recommendations and sound judgment.”

“That will make things easier for you,” Mari hummed as they continued their walk down the hall.

“From Commodore Lee first, surely he wouldn’t mind—he has twelve wards himself.”

Mari turned, “Twelve!?”

“Yes.”

“...Twelve boys?”

“Ah, no. I believe there are three or four girls in between, alongside his daughter. Most of the boys are in the navy like him, though others are in a general school. Well, 'general' is an understatement—he speaks such praises of what good the school improved his boys, it must be particular in quality”

“I see. I thought that he was responsible for the care of so many young men. But still—twelve children—it's already very generous of him.”

“The man likens his person to a nourishing rice ball, to be shared with those like him. Which I think is a very warm sentiment. He came from very humble beginnings himself you see…”

If each chapter is a TV series episode, Hannah Bahng is a special guest star.

Anyway, some rambling to make up for the extra-late-update:D

If you were going to the navy in the Regency era, you were to start early, at 12 or younger. You could go to the naval school at Portsmouth or just get on a ship at 10 years old. I might get too excited about how well this lines up with Chan leaving for Korea.

While writing this, I sometimes wonder if I’ve made Seungmin everyone’s favourite. But anyway, there’s this fan tweet like, a teacher used to tutor Seungmin’s sister, and he’d come and sit by her during lessons. The teacher said he’s an adorable baby so I’m like—YOU KNOW THAT SEUNGMIN'S BABY PICTURE OF HIM BEING A DUMPLING OVER HIS DAD'S LEGS THE AMOUNT OF UWUNESS—TALK ABOUT THIS!!

Also, Ms Bang, not Mrs (husband's name), just to the fact that women don’t change their name after marriage in Korea but also how in the 19th century West, you can be referred with your husband’s name just by attaching it to Mrs, so it came out like Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy for Lizzie Bennet or Mrs George Knightley for Emma Woodhouse.

Alright, that's all to help you start this week people. Any thoughts, comments, or critique is welcome as always, in the comments or on Tumblr's ask. Have a great week, until next time.

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princess-of-the-corner · 3 months

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Toontown: Corporate Clash Recap: Toontown Central Mainline Tasks (Bumpy Bumblebehr)

As before, credit to corporateclash.wiki.gg.

Okay so, it’s time to help out a Periwinkle Bear.

Tonight’s episode, Bumpy Bumblebehr in

Big Bumpin

To complete this task, talk to Bumpy Bumblebehr.

He excitedly greets you, just being a jolly, round bear who loves seeing new recruits.

He does have a few pressing issues he can’t handle from HQ at the moment.

“Nurse Nancy is the most important one that I can think of, for right now.” “She’s taking care of all the injured and sickly Toons of the resistance, so it’s our duty to help!” “She’s tried a number of creative boo-boo solutions, but she’s confident in glue, for some reason.” “So glue it is! Head on over to Sticky Lou at Blue Glue Direct 2 You. It’s on Loopy Lane.” “Make sure you get the really pretty stuff. When you’re injured and need medical assistance, some colorful glue will surely cheer you up!”

And with that, earned 31 experience, 2 Jellybeans, and the next task:

A Sticky Situation

Your first step on this task is to go down Loopy Lane and visit Blue Glue (“Direct 2 You”) to speak with Sticky Lou, a maroon mouse with an upside-down pot/jug/cauldron on his head:

“Ha ha, hey there buddy.” “You uh, wanting something?” “Oh yeah, glue huh?” “That’s great. I’d be glad to help you out.” “But uh, I'mma be honest with you.” “I’m literally stuck to the floor.” “Yep, nope, just spilled all my glue right onto my feet.” “You might ask why I didn’t just react right away and move them, and while that’s a valid question, I started daydreaming.” “Now you might ask what daydream could’ve possibly have been so good that I didn’t notice my dire circumstance.” “This is awkward but, since you’re stuck here with me for now, I guess I’ll come clean.” “I’ve always wanted to be a mime.” “Yes, that’s right.. a mime.” “I just kind of get lost daydreaming about it often, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I ended up in this sticky situation a time or two about once a week.” “I’ll make a deal with you…” “If you can get me a reservation for The Merry Mimes on Silly Street, I’ll personally give you all this glue that’s currently stuck to me, for free.”

This is a reference to Sticky Lou’s task in Toontown Online, except there, Lou spoke exclusively in rhyme, and had no interest in miming. He just needed your help getting unstuck, got unstuck, and then accidentally glued himself to the floor again while thanking the player.

Regardless, this spiel earns the player’s Toon 31 experience and 2 Jellybeans.

In order to continue the Task, you must head to The Merry Mimes on Silly Street and pick up a Reservation Ticket from the shopkeeper: a pink beaver named Silent Simone.

Silent Simone is a mime and as such does not speak.

Interacting with her during this task prompts the following animations.

She waves.

She does a pushing animation.

She swims upwards, prompting the player’s Toon to say “Ok.”

She mimes picking something up.

She climbs up an invisible ladder and clips through the ceiling.

This interaction gives the player’s Toon 31 experience, 2 jellybeans, and the Reservation Ticket.

Deliver this to Sticky Lou to continue the Task.

“Wow! That’s amazing!” “And it seemed so much easier than I thought it’d be.” “But I kind of ended up in a little bit more of a pickle since you were gone.” “I went straight to work trying to unstick this glue from me, and unstick me from this glue…” “It turns out my hands aren’t exactly the right tool for this, and I’m kiiiind of stuck even more.” “If you can find maybe like a spatula, or a uh… stick, or something we can use that to unstick me and you can take all this glue for free.”

This grants you 31 experience and 2 Jellybeans. Any Cog in Toontown Central could potentially drop An Unsticking Object, so getting one shouldn’t take too long.

“Fantastic!” “Let me just pry it off here now!” (Sticky Lou performs the rope-pulling animation, due to that being the closest to “prying my feet off the ground” we get.) “YEEEEOWCH!!!” (Sticky Lou belly flops.) “I got a lot of practicing to do before mime class apparently.” “Well uh, it’s all yours, ha ha.” “Just tell them to ignore any colorful hairs, it’s… decorative glue.” “Thanks for helping me out!”

This task is pretty animated. Anyways, this grants you 31 experience, 2 jellybeans, and Decorative Glue to take back to the Playground.

Deliver it to Bumpy Bumblebehr for the next exciting chapter of this story:

“Wow! You sure seemed to solve that quick!” “Oh…” “What are these hairs…” “Decorative glue?” “I’m no simpletoon, [Toon Name]. I’m beary smart. I know mouse hairs when I see them!” “This just clearly won’t cut it. We can’t be unsanitary.” “Go back and get some fresh and preferably unused glue, please!”

Welp, might not be what you needed, but you’ve got 31 more experience and 2 more jellybeans, so it’s not a total waste!

Here’s what Sticky Lou has to say:

“Well, alright. I suppose I could give you some of my patented Fresh Glue.” “But there’s a bit of a problem. Actually… two problems.” “I may or may not be stuck once again… Ha ha?” “I was starting my miming practice and got REALLY into pretending that I’m in an invisible box…” “It was great! Until I swooped my arm one last time and knocked all my glue jars right onto my feet again…” “I can’t begin to explain to you the feeling of shame I am experiencing right now…” “If you can get me a Glass Jar, I’ll get to unsticking myself and give you some fresh glue from the back.”

Oh Sticky Lou, whatever will we do with you? I mean, it’s 31 free experience and 2 jellybeans, so I’m not gonna complain.

When fishing up Task objectives from Fishing Ponds, the Task Item takes priority over anything else you could possibly fish up, as long as you’re in the right Neighborhood, in this case, Toontown Central.

Anyways, bring the empty jar back to finally wrap up Sticky Lou’s storyline.

“Nice job! Just gonna fill up the jar.” “At least my paws are getting better air cooling… That’s a plus right?” “Oh, don’t answer that. The jar’s all full. Here you go! Some Fresh Glue.” “Next time I will make sure I’m at least two arms length away before practicing…” “Good luck with the glue!”

And unlike in Toontown Online, he DOESN’T immediately glue himself back to the floor while thanking you.

You’ve got 31 experience, 2 jellybeans, and Fresh Glue.

Deliver it to Bumpy Bumblebehr to complete the task.

“Ah Finally, some decent Glue. I’ll get this over to Nurse Nancy right away.” “This is gonna do wonders for the injured Toons. You’ve done us a big solid and I’m incredibly grateful.” “I can already see your trust growing higher and higher and honestly, I see nothing short of a bright future for you!” “Go on over to Good ol’ Gil Giggles now and see what you can do for him.” “Thanks a ton, [Toon Name]!”

This earns you 310 experience and 20 jellybeans, and concludes the Bumpy arc, the shortest post-Toontorial arc in the Taskline.

Next time, we see what Good ol’ Gil Giggles needs!

As someone whose adhd is kicking their ass lately, I completely understand “I daydreamed so hard I got my ass glued to the floor”

#submission

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