#wish we were being cosy in the same country :(
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Fire and Frost
Shameless Rhaenicent fluff! Happy Christmas / Wintertimes! Rated T for sexual implications but nothing explicit.
Do not be alarmed, I will be back to writing angst and horrific whump soon, was just in the festive mood and wanted my girls to be happy in this other timeline. ^_^
*
She’s shaken roughly from a serene, cosy sleep.
“Alicent! Wake up, you have to see this!” At first the voice takes her back to being awoken by her brother when they were small and he wanted them to sneak into the kitchens for a midnight snack.
Both brought the same reaction which she gives to the princess, grabbing the nearest pillow and hurling it hurling it in their direction, without even opening her eyes.
“It’s not even daybreak yet, go back to sleep.” she mumbles, exhausted from the journey it had taken them to reach this part of the country, and having only arrived six hours, collapsing immediately into the beds provided for them.
The pillow is deflected back onto her.
“There’s a chance it might have gone once the sun is up. Please, my love, just look out the window with me, pleeeease.”
With the mother of grunts leaving her lips, Alicent pushes herself up to appease her obnoxious companion. She rubs her eyes and turns to the large window of their room in the Eyrie, her sleepy vision clearing to see the white flakes swirling down, covering their large balcony that looked out onto a glorious view of the Vale in all its splendour.
Rhaenyra, still in her night clothes, is already wrapping a thicker fur coat around herself, her entire body wound up like a toy ready to spring out in chaos.
“Is that truly snow?” Alicent can’t hide the wonder in her voice.
In all her travels to the colder parts of the Realm, with the exception of the North which she’d yet to see any further than White Harbour, she had never seen snow, let alone be but a layer of glass from it.
“It hasn’t snowed on Midwinter’s Day since my mother was seven! And I’ve never seen it this heavy up here whenever we visited.” Rhaenyra roots underneath the bed for a pair of boots; “C’mon, we have to go to the courtyard before my cousins wake up and ruin it.”
“Ruin it by playing, you mean? Because they’re...children?” Alicent squints. And they’re both three-and-twenty.
The princess sits up, rolling her eyes; “I was here first! And we’re the guests! And their future Queens so, as far as I see, that gives us first rights to enjoy it!”
Alicent blushed, as she always did when Rhaenyra brought up their planned ‘future’. She was still set on making the declaration after her coronation, when she weilded more power, to announce that she would be taking no lord to be her husband and king consort. That, instead, it would be another woman at her side. Her childhood companion, the Hand’s daughter.
It all still felt like a fairy tale, a dream of two girls, one that Rhaenyra refused to grow out of realising would never come to pass, and one that Alicent was too lovestruck to tell her otherwise. We’ll deal with that when it comes to pass, she always told herself, though it did little to quell her anxiety.
Right now, however, she is far too captivated by the sheer joy in her love’s eyes to worry about such matters. She doesn’t know how to feel about snow, yet, but she knows above anything else how much she wishes to freeze this moment of happiness for Rhaenyra as long as possible.
Smiling, she gets off the bed and looks for her boots.
Shortly after, they walk through the near-empty hallways of the great castle, arm-in-arm. Rhaenyra’s grandfather, the Lord Arryn, and his second wife are still asleep, as are her other relatives. It feels as though they have the mountain to themselves. The servants bow or cutsy when passing, saying nothing about the crown princess and the Lady Hightower striding down the halls clearly not having been properly dressed, both their hairs unbound and falling free down their shoulders.
“Go on. Step on it.” Rhaenyra encourages Alicent once they’ve reached the courtyard.
Alicent had been satisfied by the sight of the garden, which had been impressive enough the day before, even with many of the flowers having wilted in the colder months, now covered under a blanket of white while further snow continued to fall, so delicate, from the opaline sky.
Her toes curled at the thought of stepping onto it, even in these boots.
“Won’t I fall through it?” She realises how dumb she sounds once the question is out.
“No, you pretty idiot. It’s like a crunchy pillow, just step onto it like-.”
Alicent let out the smallest scream as Rhaenyra shoved her forward and the next thing she knew she was landing face-first onto the ground. Just as her gods damn brat of a lover had described, her fall was cushioned by the coldest, wettest pillow. A brief shock passed into irritation, so she quickly turned and threw a fist-full of the substance at the princess - well worth the risk of treason.
She spluttered as it hit her mouth, then she continued to laugh; “Oh I don’t think you’re experienced enough to challenge me to a snowball fight yet, sweetling.”
“I am soaked! You’re going to make me catch the Shivers!” Alicent’s anger could not compete with the humor, or how smitten she was with the silver-haired menace.
“Oh please, I’m a dragon and even I can handle snow!”
She proceeded to prove her point by putting her arms out and falling backward into the pile, landing beside Alicent. Snow sprays her in the fallout, so she gives a soft kick to Rhaenyra’s leg.
“You’re far too jovial on today of all days.” Alicent chastises, playfully.
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s the Stranger’s Day! It’s supposed to be a day of quiet contemplation and being humble, if you have any idea what that word means-.”
“No I don’t.”
“Thought so. There’s little to no official ceremonies on this day,” with the exception of the Silent Sisters who were said to have their own private services; “and few people even mark it, but it’s definitely frowned upon to be giggling and frolocking like this!”
“Your gods frown on all the fun things.”
She stiffens a bit at that; “They’re your gods too.”
Rhaenyra doesn’t deny that, nor does she really confirm. They’ve had this rather awkward conversation enough times for Alicent to know that religion, one way or another, doesn’t mean all that much to the princess. She might pay lip service to the Seven at the Sept but she knows her heart lies in studying what remains of the gods of Old Valyria, the legends she idolises more than the true gods of noble morals. The only reason that Alicent doesn’t let it come between them is because Rhaenyra has never been anything but supportive of what faith means to her.
“The Faith of the Seven is the only religion in the known world that doesn’t mark the seasons in some way or another.” Because they followed a lunar calander, Alicent doesn’t bother to point out; “I’ve read up on the religions of the east and west, even the fucking Lamb people have seasonal holidays. My mother’s family are devoted to the Seven, but we would always come visit here every winter solstice, and sometimes the summer, to celebrate in a way the south frowned upon.”
Alicent bites her lip. She hadn’t meant to cast any shadows on something as important as a family tradition.
The princess smiles; “Believe me, the farther north you go, the more exciting it gets. They still worship the Old Gods in Winterfell, Father took me there one Midwinter Feast, it was a mad party that lasted past sun-up. Our old Septa would have a heart attack at the ‘jovial’ things they got up too there.”
She had always wondered why the royal family chose to plan their tour around the continent during that particular time of year.
“You’ll be telling me the Starks, of all families, engage in some sort of depraved heathen orgies with their people.” Alicent japes, rolling over closer to the princess, becoming less bothered by the chill of the ground.
Now Rhaenyra is the one whose eyes glint, thrilled though shocked; “And you accuse me of having a filthy mind. But sadly, if they did have any such practices, my parents made sure I was in bed before being aware of them.”
Velvet gloves grab at Alicent’s waist as the princess tugs her near. It can’t be denied that she feels a lot warmer. She glances down at the woman holding her, silver hair streaming into the snow, the lightest of white dusting her cheeks, which Alicent wipes off with her fingers.
Both following the same instinct, their lips meet, a rush of heat brewing as fingers cling to each others cloaks.
“I would have you take me right here, at the top of the world with the gods themselves.” Rhaenyra whispers to her.
“Down, my princess. Your cousins could walk in and the scandal would have your grandfather exiling you from your own ancestrial home.” Alicent warns, nose tips rubbing.
A spoiled ‘hmpff’ is her reply, along with a pout that just makes Alicent want to taste that lip again.
Later that night, after one of the biggest feasts she had ever attended, while still feeling cosy and intimate among the Arryn side of Rhaenyra’s family, the two of them curl by the fireplace in the guest chambers. They’ve both missed the sofa, Rhaenyra sat on the bear-skin rug with Alicent laid across her lap, struggling to keep her eyes open.
“I did warn you about the food.” The princess teases, rubbing at her companion’s stomach.
“Ugh, I wasn’t aware it was possible to consume so much gravy. I’ll never eat again.” Alicent moans, curling into her. “When I get back to the capital, if Father complains about my weight gain, I’m blaming you.”
“Mmm, let him grumble. I’d desire you if you were as large as the Toad Queen of Dorne.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Alicent pokes her, preening as Rhaenyra’s fingers run through her hair. “You also forgot to mention the gifts. I felt so foolish, just sitting there!”
Rhaenyra tuts; “You don’t know my mother’s family, stupid, they don’t expect anything from you, they didn’t even know who I was bringing!” It had been a rather last minute decision when the King and Queen had been unable to attend due to Viserys’ poor health.
Sighing, Alicent makes the impossible struggle to sit up, battling against the rocks weighing down her gut.
“I would have had a gift for you!” She frowns before looking down at the necklance that now hung around her neck. She reaches to lovingly touch it again.
A perfectly cut emerald in the shape of a dragon, attached to a Valyrian steel chain. The way that Rhaenyra had knelt down to hand the beautifully wrapped box to her had almost felt like a proposal, chaste and pure as it may have appeared to their hosts.
Rhaenyra’s fingers reach to curl around hers.
“I may have resisted the urge to tell you so it would be more of a surprise.”
“Sneak.” Alicent mutters before kissing her knuckles.
“You don’t need to give me anything, my love.” Rhaenyra lowers her voice, leaning in; “The promise you swore to be my true consort, no matter what comes, is the greatest gift I’ve ever received.”
“More than Syrax’ egg in your crib when you were born?”
“Fine, second best.”
Alicent knows that nothing comes before a dragon when it comes to these Targaryens. If it were any other beast, she might take offense, but that big, pampered lizard had managed to steal Alicent’s heart as much as her rider had.
Beside the glow of the flames, she kisses Rhaenyra again, the princess moving her hand around to cup the back of her head.
“There is one gift I know I can give you tonight.” She murmurs, nuzzling her; “I may not be as full from dinner as I thought.”
Rhaenyra giggles; “Alicent Hightower. By the gods, I’ll make a depraved heathen of you yet.”
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Cat Café
Summary: Every year, your parents would set you on a date with any eligible guy that is of a wealthy family background so that your parents could expand their wealth and business. You were never looking forward to any of the dates until one fateful day, where the café worker attracted your attention.
Theme: cat café au, wealthy family au, strangers to lovers
Genre: fluffy
Warnings: none
WC: 4.4k
Pairing: Café Worker!San x Fem!Reader
a/n: Hello again! Decided to write a cute kitty fic for San since he loves Byeol 💜 I hope he's resting well :'(
Being the daughter of someone who seems to be well-known as a millionaire in your country, there are pros and cons to it. The pros are that people would do anything and everything for your family, you lived in a mansion, you have a personal chauffeur but would prefer driving on your own, you can literally snap your fingers and anything can come to you except, you don’t like that.
The cons are that some people tend to envy your family, some even throw threats at you with ransom. And then there’s a handful of people who tries to befriend you just for your wealth but you’re not dumb. You’re smarter than people think.
However, one thing you never liked about this whole being born rich and having a family business fiasco, is that one of your parents would tend to be money minded and would do anything to gain power over their company. Which is exactly what was happening to you for the past few years ever since you turned 18.
Your father had been sending you on blind dates with a bunch of different guys who were sons of rich family business owners.
However, thankfully, your father wasn’t the kind to force you into marriage if you didn’t want to. But with that being said, every guy you rejected, results in a new guy for you and you hate this.
This year, your dad found you a guy who was around your age.
His parents owned a well-known wine company in the country. He was the youngest in his family. His name was Park Seonghwa and no doubt he was good looking and rather charming in personality, you just don’t feel the spark with him either.
And yet, here you are on your third date with him. You could tell that this person was a very kind-hearted man and that he was nothing but genuine with you.
But everything just feels out of place.
For this third date with him, he told you to choose where to go so you decided to bring him to a cat café that you knew of downtown. You walked with him side by side down the pavement after having dropped off by his chauffeur.
It was quite a chilly day, light snow cascading down on you as you walked.
Seonghwa was just listening to you talk about your school when he saw the way you were hugging yourself to shield your body from the cold breeze despite the three layers you had on.
He chuckled softly to no one as he soon wrapped an arm around your shoulder to pull you against his side, causing you to softly gasp.
Your words got stuck in your throat as you looked up at him with a bashful smile.
“Sorry, I guess you knew I was cold…” You apologized, earning a soft nod from him followed by a cute little giggle. You continued walking with him against your side, glancing up at him every now and then only to find him staring down at you with such warm eyes.
Both of you finally arrived at the cat café you wanted to bring him to, only to find it quite empty save for the two couples already in the booths with the kitties.
You entered the cosy premise of the café, immediately greeted by one of the staff there behind the counter.
“Hi! Welcome to Cuddles ‘N’ Coffee! Table for 2?” She asked with a cheery smile on her face.
“Yes please.” Seonghwa responded as she nodded before walking out the back and towards the glass door that shields the cats from leaving the front entrance.
“You can have that table booth right at the back. Just press the button on the wall and we’ll come over to take your orders.” She smiled as you thanked her for her great customer service before she returned your gesture with a sweet smile that turned her eyes into slits.
You and Seonghwa walked over to the table, careful not to step on any cats laying on the ground.
Some were already trailing behind you and the minute you placed your purse down and sat on the cushioned bench, a chunky brown cat leaped onto your lap and purred.
A soft giggle left your lips as you turned to Seonghwa who was also in the same situation as you but with a slimmer white cat in his lap.
“You make me want to adopt them really badly.” Seonghwa said under his breath, making you laugh.
After a few minutes of just bonding with the cats, you finally made your orders. The same girl came back about 5 minutes later with your orders, telling you to enjoy your drinks. You were just listening to Seonghwa talking about his boring lecturer when your eyes naturally glided over towards the front counter.
That’s where you saw a guy who looks to work there too considering the same polo tee and apron that Yeji, the girl who served you and Seonghwa earlier was wearing.
His smile was captivating as he joked around with Yeji, throwing balls of tissue at each other.
You watched as he seemed to have said something to her, causing her to slap his arm a little too harshly. That’s when he curled his body while holding onto the spot she hit.
But his frown was quickly replaced by a smile, watching her leave the counter with a middle finger in the air, directing it to him. Right when you were about to look away, his eyes happened to catch sight of yours. You’re supposed to be focusing on Seonghwa!
What are you doing? Look away!
Everything around you was a blur until you felt a warm touch to your knee, making you flinch and was soon turned back to Seonghwa who had a frown on his face.
“Hey? You okay? What’s wrong?” He asked out of pure concern.
“N-Nothing. Sorry, my mind went elsewhere for a moment. I’m so sorry, Seonghwa.” You apologized, already feeling bad for ignoring him like that whilst on a date. But all he did was chuckle and tell you it was fine.
After a few more minutes, you finally called it a night. You both reused your coats and checked to make sure you didn’t leave any belongings behind before making your way to the door to make your payment.
“Hello! I hope you enjoyed your time with the cats!” Yeji smiled to you two as she keyed in your orders.
“Yes we did. Thank you for having the cute fur balls.” You giggled, earning a laugh from her as well. Just when Seonghwa was handing his card to Yeji, you happened to turn right when her co-worker left the back room.
It was him.
He made eye contact with you briefly before turning away to enter the cat room. But you could’ve sworn you saw the small pout on his face. Unless your eyes were playing tricks on you.
Seonghwa’s car was now parked right outside your estate, with him insisting on walking you to your front gates while his driver stayed behind in the car. Once you were both there, he reached down to grab your hand gently making you turn around. You saw a frown decorating his face, instantly knowing something wasn’t right.
“Seonghwa? Is everything okay?” You asked as he stayed quiet for a while before he let out a soft sigh. And that’s when he explained everything.
“I know this might not be the best time to say this, but I have to. The past two dates were amazing. I never thought I’d find someone as down to earth and humble like you. And I did. Today was as amazing as those dates. The simple sushi dinner, the walk by Han River, the cat café as our last destination for this night’s date, I loved every second of it. And I really wish I could have more of this with you. I really do.”
He paused briefly before he continued, seeing that you were listening to him intently.
“But… my parents have decided… that they’re setting me up for marriage with someone else.” You weren’t going to lie, this news made your heart sink just a bit.
“Oh…” That was all you can muster and he knew you were upset.
“But it’s okay. We can still be friends if you’ll let me? The past three dates made me learn so much about you as a person and I couldn’t ask for more.” Seonghwa smiled, making you tear up feeling slightly overwhelmed.
“Hey, don’t cry…” Seonghwa whispered in between chuckles as he wiped your tears with his thumbs.
“I’m sorry, I guess I’m just touched that you feel that way for me.”
“Well, then I’m glad I managed to make you cry.” He teased, earning a soft slap to his broad chest. Seonghwa laughed again but then got quiet for a split second before he spoke up cautiously, hoping you weren’t offended by his request.
“Can… Can I kiss you?” Seonghwa asked and you weren’t going to reject him this time.
So when you didn’t reply to him, he mistook it for rejection. But instead, you carefully slide your hands around his neck, pulling him close until you feel his lips against your own.
Seonghwa smiled into the kiss as his hands wrapped itself around your waist, instinctively pulling you closer to his body. Your fingers tangled into his soft hair gently, feeling him squeeze your sides a little before he chuckled against your mouth.
“You really are something else, you know that? Whoever dates you, is gonna be the luckiest guy on earth.” Seonghwa complimented you, making you blush.
“And to the girl who’s about to be your future wife, she better be grateful to have such a handsome, kind hearted young man as her husband.” You returned as he kissed you again before pulling away.
“Goodnight Y/N. I’ll see you around. Promise we’ll stay friends okay?” Seonghwa said, making you hug him.
“I promise.” You whispered against his chest, pulling away from him. You gave him a final wave as you watched his car descend down the road. Seonghwa was an angel and whoever he ends up with, will be the luckiest girl on earth.
It has been 2 weeks since your last date with Seonghwa and you’ve been coming to the cat café. Probably 3 times in each week. Sometimes to do your assignment, sometimes to just chill and hangout with the kitties. But in all honesty, you were lowkey expecting to see the guy working there the other day and you did.
Almost all your visits there.
Little did you know, he too was kind of looking forward to seeing you there.
It was a Saturday evening and you were out and about in town. Your parents didn’t have any guys for your blind date recently so you took this chance to leave the house and just spend time alone.
You managed to find your way back to the café, parking your car at an empty parking lot down the street.
You had just entered the café and it was slightly more occupied than the last time you came. But since you were alone, it wasn’t actually a problem. You were standing by the door, looking around at the people queueing at the counter to make their payments when a voice snapped you out of your trance.
“Hi, welcome to Cuddles ‘N’ Coffee. For how many people?”
You turned to look at who greeted you, only to lock eyes with the same ones you had been hoping to see every time you came there.
“Just 1.” You said with a small smile, only to catch the inner corner of his lips twitch upwards.
“Right this way.” He said as he led you towards the room where the cats were in. You followed behind him closely, only for him to lead you to one of the booths near the back.
“Call me if you need anything.” He said as you noticed the smile that appeared on his face before he left. And you caught a glimpse of his nametag right before he turned.
Choi San.
A few minutes later, you were too busy petting the fluffy white cat in your lap, you didn’t even realize more people had left the café and there were only 3 tables left occupied. The cat in your lap was purring as it nuzzled its face into your stomach, not knowing you were currently a topic of conversation that was happening on the other side of the room.
San had just finished charging one of the customers only to let out a long sigh.
“Tired already?” Yeji asked with a teasing smile as she approached him. San grumbled, leaning against the counter with his back facing where the customers would be.
“Today’s been a full house since afternoon and I’m dead, gone.” He said, leaning his head back to close his eyes.
San couldn’t see what Yeji was doing until he heard her voice from beside him.
“Go and talk to her.”
“Huh?” San snapped his head towards her with a confused look on his face, earning a giggle from her.
“You yourself told me you were upset that she wasn’t alone the other day, and now she is. So go talk to her!” Yeji encouraged him.
“What if her boyfriend just can’t make it?”
“San, she’s been coming here alone for the past two weeks in case you haven’t noticed. Maybe she’s here to see you? Come on, just keep her company. Nothing would go wrong with that.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I’m a girl and I’d do the same if I wanted to be discreet about seeing my crush at his workplace?”
To that, San sighed as he turned to look over at you across the room, only to see you nuzzling your face against the cat’s head that was in your lap. This made his heart flutter as he saw the little smile on your face upon feeling the cat licking your nose.
He didn’t realize he had a silly smile on his face until Yeji pushed him gently to get his attention, “Just go, silly! That dumb smile on your face is telling a lot!” She laughed as he glared at her but without any venom in them.
He finally mustered up the courage thanks to Yeji as he was now making his way towards you where there’s only a couple who was left in the room with you.
Once he was a few feet away, his voice caught your attention, making you look up.
Immediately, your heartbeat started picking up speed.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” San asked politely, earning a soft shake of your head and a smile.
“No thanks, I’m good actually…” You said.
San nodded as he wasn’t sure if he should stay or leave. But you seem to have read his mind by asking him the question he never expected would have come from you.
“Do you… wanna sit down?” You asked as he glanced down at the empty spot beside you before looking back into your eyes.
“Uh.. y-yeah… are- are you okay with that?”
“Of course.” You smiled as you scooted over a little for him.
San carefully sat down beside you and almost instantly, a fluffy brown cat leaped into his lap. You giggled when the cat stood up with its back legs on his thighs while its front paws rested on his chest. Licking San’s chin cutely as the other cats started to surround him by the legs, begging for his pets.
“They seem to love you.” You commented with a genuine smile, making him chuckle.
“I own a cat myself so I guess I’m just used to being loved by them.” San said before turning to look at you, only to be flustered by the way you were staring at him.
“Wow… That’s sweet.”
“Do you have any pets?” He asked.
“No… Although I do wish to have one. I think it would be nice.” You said softly, only to hear him shift in his seat. Just then, his knee accidentally brushed against yours but you didn’t mind it.
A few seconds of peaceful silence went by, only for him to speak up, “Are you heading home soon?”
“I think I should? You guys are closing up soon right?”
“Yeah… Do you have a ride home?” He asked almost out of instinct, feeling sorry that he just blatantly asked you that when you barely knew each other.
“S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to be weird…”
“No. No. It’s fine. But yes, I do.” You smiled at him.
San awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck out of nervousness, only for you to speak up.
“Well, I think I should make a move soon. Thank you for sitting here with me.” You said as he smiled again.
“Sure.”
The two of you began making your way back to the front counter as Yeji keyed in your order. After you’ve paid, she hands you back your card and receipt, only for you to smile at both Yeji and San.
“Thank you. Goodnight.” You said as they nodded whilst she replied the same to you.
All San could do was smile, not able to move or say anything to you. The minute you left, Yeji turned to him and asked why he never replied to you. That’s when he finally told his co-worker that he was head over heels for you.
A few weeks passed and you had been going to that café a little more frequently now solely to see San. It was a Sunday afternoon, a bright, cold day. You were just making your way to San’s workplace when you got a call from him. You answered his call, only to hear his eager voice from the other side of the line.
“Hey! Where are you?” He asked.
“On my way to the café actually.”
“Nice. I’m a little caught up in the back so just come inside and find a seat near the back. Yeji’s working upfront.”
“Okay San, see you.”
“See you, cutie.” You could’ve sworn you heard his smirk creeping up on his face only for you to giggle.
You and San haven’t properly confessed anything yet, but you could definitely tell that both of you liked each other. Although San already knows about your family background, he was pretty chill about it. You could tell that he was a genuine person and wasn’t one who would just date you for money.
You even told Seonghwa about him and he feels that San is someone you could trust. So when you made it to the café and you saw Yeji talking to a customer alone by the cashier, you figured San was in fact in the back room.
So after the customer left, Yeji’s eyes travelled to you and immediately her smile beamed, causing her eyes to disappear.
“Y/N! Hey!”
“Hey Yeji.” You giggled.
“San’s a little busy with paperwork in the back but he told me to save a seat for you at your usual spot!”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that though.”
“It’s okay, his words anyway.” Yeji giggled before bringing you to the table.
A few minutes passed, you were just kissing one of the cat’s cute pink nose when a familiar voice spoke up from above you, making you look up to see San standing there with his apron discarded.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
San smiled as he sat down beside you only to reach over and gave the cat a few strokes. You were about to turn and talk to him but instead, you got flustered with how close his face was with yours. The minute San looked up at you, you could literally feel his warm minty breath hitting your lips.
His eyes glanced down to your lips and you could see the corner of his lips curve up slightly. This in itself, made your heart pound against your chest as you turned away to hide your blush on your face.
“Uhh, I- I umm, are you hungry?” You asked, earning a soft chuckle from him.
He went to order for you two, also making the drinks for you before coming back. You spent the next hour with him during his lunch break, not forgetting to share some skin ship with him. Something you’ve grown used to.
San was ending his shift in two hours and you definitely didn’t mind staying there for another few hours for him since he himself said you could wait for him there.
And so you did.
After he ended his work, both of you left his workplace not without saying bye to Yeji.
You hang out with him for a bit before he invites you over to his apartment. You’ve been there more than five times and he has never done anything inappropriate to you. So you trusted him with all your life.
A few hours passed and you were now seated on his couch, watching the Disney movie ‘Frozen’ with him. “Omg, look at this jerk! He’s totally using her!” You ranted with an unconscious pout, earning a little chuckle from him.
“Well, at least I know I wouldn’t do that to someone.” San shrugged, making you turn to him. He had a silly smirk on his face but you weren’t going to comment on it. You were just blushing at his indirect flirty comment towards you despite not mentioning who he was talking about.
San was definitely talking about you and he knows you know it too. And seeing the blush on your face could only make him burst into a laughter that left you pouting.
“Shut up! Don’t make fun of me!” You whined as San wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his side.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry but you’re just too cute!” San said as you froze.
Sure he has called your choice of outfits pretty before but this time, it felt so raw and you were slightly taken aback by it. San definitely noticed this as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. At first he was frowning but then it got replaced with a smile, melting you instantly.
The room fell quiet as you noticed the way his eyes fell to your lips and lingered there for a bit, making you nervous.
Just then, your breath hitched in your throat when he reached up slowly to cup your face and caress your cheek with his thumb. Nobody dared to say much but he had to make sure you were alright with where this is going so he spoke up.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” He whispered, his voice soft and gentle.
You gave him a nod to answer him as you watched him lean closer until his sharp nose lightly brushed against the side of your nose, lips barely an inch apart from each other.
You closed your eyes, too nervous to keep looking. San smiled at this as he gave your lips one last glance before he too closed his eyes and pressed his lips gently on yours. San felt you move your lips against his. He smiled into your lips as he caressed your cheek while he kissed you.
He was being so gentle with you, it definitely melted your heart.
He pulled away for a breath, letting his fingers lightly ghost over your features before you reopened your eyes to look at him.
“Was that okay?” He asked, his voice quiet.
“Yeah…” You whispered as you wrapped your fingers around the wrist of the hand that was holding your face.
“Good… Because I wasn’t sure if I trusted myself with words to confess to you.” San chuckled, earning a soft giggle from you before you replied to him.
“It’s okay… I like this better.”
With that being said, San smiled in victory as he kissed you again.
You spent the day with him, cuddling on his couch after a long but innocent make out session. Never did you think you would fall for a boy who worked at a cat café but you did. And you were more than happy you did.
~~~
#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fluff#ateez x reader#ateez san#ateez choi san#choi san#choi san fluff#choi san scenarios#san imagines#san scenarios#atz san#san x reader#ateez san x reader#san fluff
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Painted Roses
jordan henderson x reader
word count - 2k I think
jordan takes you back to the place it all began as you expand your life together.
second part to Rose Garden
4 years to the date.
The country house with the long gravel road that lead up to the huge red brick cottage. The owner passed away over a year ago and their family, to Jordan’s utter shock, weren’t interested in maintaining the beautiful home as the wedding venue it had existed as in the past. The second he heard it was up for sale, he placed an offer and had the keys in the space of two weeks.
“Jordan where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He promises, giving your hand a gentle squeeze where it sat on top of your knee. The blindfold is making you sweat more than you already were. “I can’t see anything.” You note pointedly with a roll of your eyes behind the blindfold. Jordan chuckles heartily with what you can imagine in your mind is his signature smile, all white teeth and crinkled eyes. “You’ll love it,” he says through that smile, “I promise.” His hand pats your knee again as a silence falls between you.
Gravel crunches beneath the wheels of his fancy black Mercedes as the smell of cut grass and fresh flowers enters your nose and makes you grin subconsciously in a way you barely even notice. Jordan catches sight of that out the corner of his eye and his heart grows with joy in his chest. The slow, careful turn of his car, paired with the sound of his hands sliding along the leather of the wheel alert you to his parking. He does so with ease and you hear the keys jangling as he shuts off the engine.
“Wait here,” he instructs, climbing out his side with the door thrown shut behind him. He’s round at your side of the car before you have a chance to think up a cheeky retort. He’s gentle as he always is when he helps you out of the car carefully, wrapping one arm around your waist so you don’t fall. Admittedly, it doesn’t work very well because the ground beneath is so incredibly uneven, so when he gets to that first smooth grey cement step, he opts to simply scoop you up into his arms with ease.
“Okay,” he begins, placing you down as you feel the smooth material covering your eyes loosening and slipping from your face. His hands replace it for only a moment as he presses a kiss to the side of your head from behind you. “Open.”
You do as told and tears spring in place of his hands to blur your vision.
It’s beautiful.
It was that Victorian style country home that once acted as a wedding venue, redecorated to a minimum. “Wanted it to look nice for you, but so that you can give it your touch. You know better than me.” He admits sheepishly with a pink tint to his cheeks. You beam at him tearily, hands clasped together in sheer joy. “God Jordan, you shouldn’t have!” You exclaim, tears bleeding over your lash line. You knew how expensive these types of homes were, never mind ones so big with such history to them. It hadn’t even made much of a dent for Jordan really. He had more money than either of you could ever have spent and he likes to remind you of that to ensure you know full and well his gentle spoiling of you is not a hardship for him. He actively loves to do it.
“Take it as an anniversary present.” He shrugs, trying to fight at the smile that was tugging his lips. The warmth of your hug and the tears seeping through his white shirt was all a welcome to him no matter how hot it was outside. He could not wait to come home to this house, be welcomed home by you and hopefully some littler mixtures of you and him with your eyes and smile. “Makes my present look a little rubbish now,” you jest, making him chuckle heartily.
The house needed a fair bit of work. New flooring, new carpets, your furniture from home would do just fine but you reckon Jordan will be all for new stuff for a new home. A few new coats of paint and nice clear out, but all in it was still absolutely gorgeous.
“There is one room I really wanted to show you though, if that’s okay?” He asks, keeping his eyes trained down on the floor. You furrow your brows, but nod your head. “I gotta grab something from the car first though?” You hum, detangling your hand from his, “And pee.”
He tilts his head like a curious puppy. “Again? You went right before we left?” He queries. You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Since when do you question a woman’s toilet habits at that point in the month, Henderson?” You poke with a blush and a light giggle. He chuckles with you and holds up his hands in defeat, but the second your out of eye and earshot his shoulders fall and a sigh bursts out his lips. He wouldn’t let it show to you right now his disappointment. You hadn’t been trying long, but it was enough for him to be in the longing stage. Longing to see your swollen belly, longing to feel those tiny kicks against his hands and then hold his brand new baby for the first time, spend all those nights wide awake wishing for nothing but sleep while he cradled them through to the morning. You said it would happen when it happened, but it still ached with every negative test. Hearing you say you were on your period hurt a little more than he had anticipated, but he’s still heart set on showing what he had done with the short time he was able to keep this new home a secret.
You return with your handbag and take his hand. He is instinctive in those soft movements of his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s something he always does to sooth both you and him.
“So this is the master bedroom and I know it’s not quite good yet but I thought-“
“Jordan it’s beautiful,” you cut him off, your hand drifting out of his as you step in slowly. Being cautious of dust sheets and some tools, you walk into the massive room. You’d never been in a bedroom that big and it had blown you away. The huge bed, still with plastic attacked and tags on the mattress. The en-suite bathroom is marble worktops, one of those huge bathtubs and a walk in shower updated to a beautiful mixture of modernity and it’s antique homage. Tears are found again. The window gives a perfect view out the back of the house, rolling fields worth of garden space, loosely fenced in for acres into the distance. There’s a pond on the land a little to the left, not far at all that leads off towards the beginning of the hidden Rose Garden where you met Jordan 4 years ago today. All of that owned and shared by just you and the man you love. “Bloody hell, it’s so magnificent Jordan. I literally have no words.”
He beams shyly almost, “That’s how I feel about you.” He mumbles softly, almost too quiet for you to hear, like he didn’t want you to. “What’s through here?” You call behind you as he trails after you on anxious legs. You carry on through the very short pathway attached to the master bedroom that had some extra storage space. “Well uh..I haven’t finished that so maybe we should just an-“
“Oh my god.”
Jordan rubs nervously at the back of his throat as he enters into the connecting room behind you. His eyes take you in immediately, studying your features carefully. Your hands are clasped over your mouth with slow tears sliding down over your rosy cheeks. Your eyes are afire with love and happiness. “I know it’s weird but-“
“It’s perfect, Jordan.” You throw your arms around his neck, his arms finding you immediately as he buries his head into your shoulder.
It’s the only room with a new carpet yet. It’s soft beneath your shoes, a plush cream colour to match a white wall. The window on the back wall gives the same fantastic view you have in the master room. There’s a white crib pushed against the wall furthest from you with a mobile of twinkling toys dangling above and a baby changing table a little away from the top end of the crib stocked full of pampers and baby cream. In the right corner of the room just by the window is a white wooden rocking chair next to a little book shelf with baby books that had a couple plush teddies and a photo of you and Jordan 4 years ago sitting atop it. The other side corner is decked out with two beanbag seats, a soft baby mat and a bundle of all sorts of soft toys.
“Left that wall blank ‘cause I remember that day you told me you’d always wanted to paint it like the sky.” He recounts, pointing his finger at the wall that the crib was situated next to, making your head whip towards him. He had such a fantastic memory even for the little things you said, just like that. You barely even remember it, spoken under the stars as you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. It gives you no doubt about having kids with him, the thought of him remembering your babies favourite little treats or ineffective toddler secrets makes your heart soar with pride and joy. “Look closer at that.” He turns you round so your facing that wall again, the one with the little cosy corner.
Painted on the wall intricately above it is that rose arbor your stood underneath when he first laid his eyes on you. Where he first had that dance with you, where he told you he wanted to see you again. Where you snuck into when it was late, dark and only lit by those same fairly lights so he could tell you he loved you for the first time all those years ago. The roses are painted in perfect colour, careful and precise in the way they hung around you for that first ever dance you shared together. It’s so beautiful and so lifelike you that get lost in it, reliving the moment your world came together. Every time you sit there, it’ll be like sitting under real thing when you can’t take the baby out there.
“Well this makes my present a little more fitting, then.” You sniffle, letting Jordan swipe the tears gently off your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs in a slow, loving motion. “What do you mean?” He asks, “I told you not to get me anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest as you rifle through your bag. “Okay okay, here. Open this.”
You hand over a small gift bag, one stuffed with tissue paper he has to tear through as you sit your bag down and wait, watching him with wide and watery eyes. He pulls out first the tiny little wad of fabric and places the gift bag on top of the white wooden dresser, carefully unravelling the rolled up clothes. “That’s bloody adorable.” He breathes out, trying to keep the tears he has inside his eyes to no avail. You wrap your arm around his back, rubbing his tight shoulders softly. “Look at the back.” You encourage, his eyes meet yours then look back to the tiny clothes.
HENDERSON
8
With a little picture taped carefully to the bottom that he peels off with shaky, tentative fingers. “No way!” He booms, jumping back from you in shock. He looks down at the picture, up at you, back down at the picture, then up at you again with tears slipping over his cheeks. “But you said-“
“It was a surprise!” You squeal back as he swoops forward and scoops you into his arms, spinning you around in glee. “So no food poising? And no period?” He giggled out like a schoolgirl in shock. You shake your head. “Morning sickness and just a diversion. We’re having a baby!”
“We’re having a baby!” He repeats, louder. His words bounce of the walls that can barely contain the happiness inside of them. Threatening to burst at the seams as it fills beyond belief. This room, though incomplete, is perfect. Because you are in it together. Here, together in each other’s arms sharing in joy just like you’ve both shared in pain, hurt, love, happiness, nerves and everything else along the way. Head on, together.
“And this,” Jordan holds up the little football strip with his name printed across the back, his england appointed number proudly underneath, “This is perfect. You,” he pauses, leaning forward to capture your lips in his, “Are perfect.” His hands wander down to your stomach, placed gently over where his pea sized baby currently exists, growing and feeding on the love he intends to drown them in just like he does to you, “Both of you…perfect.”
It is perfect, really. Your love is. Even when it isn’t, it is. When he’s gone too long and you can’t see him because of a pandemic; the effort is made, emotions are shared. He tells you he misses you and his ego is never too big for its space in your relationship. When the world is against him or when fate turns against you both, it’s in each other’s arms that you find solace even if space is needed first. There’s an understanding of the love you have. It’s special. The kind that only a lucky few seem to find these days, a one people can look at and spot from a mile away. It’s beautiful, it’s own space taking entity that makes you both target to significant teasing from friends and family alike. It’s perfect.
Even when you fight over what blue is better to represent the sky just because your pregnant and too hormonal to admit he’d found the right colour before you did. Even when he coats you in paint that ends in an all out paint war, thankful you both removed all the furniture before painting. Even when you sob as your body changes, with pregnant emotions skewing your mind and making you question whether he’ll ever be attracted to you again, he’ll remind you that he’s never been more attracted to you than now. Housing his child, taking the aches, the pains and the changes like a true champ while he can do nothing but rub your feet and buy you ridiculous quantities of Solero ice creams. He’ll remind you in more ways that one just how perfect you are to him. Love by it’s very nature is as messy as that paint fight. It’s up and down and all over the place all the time. But the kind of love that you and Jordan have is a special that doesn’t waver, doesn’t dull or dim or change through time.
If anything, each day he loves you more. Even if he was convinced it wasn’t possible. But then it just was. Seeing you red in the face with sweat dripping over your forehead and tears leaking from your squeezed shut eyes as your screams echo through the room. All he could do was coax and coach, trying to tell you how proud of you he was. Even when you screamed that you despised him, he laughed and told you to squeeze his hand a little harder. It hurt, but that was nothing compared to the pain that you were enduring from multiple areas of your body as that baby ripped through you to make her grand entrance to the world, kicking and screaming just like the fighter her mother was. He thought his heart might burst with the amount of love he has, surely that’s as good as it gets?
No. No, it gets better still.
Everyday it’s better. Better when he gets to watch that woman that he loves so much sing to his tiny baby daughter, rocking in that chair under the painted rose arbor as she feeds from you. The most beautiful, natural thing in the world and he is enthralled by it. Watching you giggle at her she coos up at you. Placing her down in the crib beneath the gentle jingling of the cloud themed mobile next to the pale, sky blue coloured wall, blossoms falling, trickling down through clouds from a painted blossom tree on the wall and rose petals in variations of pink and red along the bottom of the crib. Roses and rose petals just like the ones that surrounded you on the day you danced with each other in under the trees of the garden that summer night. Roses like the ones you stood under to profess your love for one another. Roses, like the ones he took a knee beside, beneath and with one in his hand to give to you as he asked for your hand. Roses like you would stand beneath with one pinned to the breast of his suit to say the vows that would tie you in law to one another and to give you his name. Roses like the ones painted on the far wall, still fresh when you shared the news of that baby girl’s existence. Roses that were such an important symbol of the love you shared, pure and beautiful, sometimes painful but always worth the fight. Those roses painted on that crib with space for just one word carved into the wood.
Rose.
Your own beautiful little Rose.
#jordan henderson#jordan henderson imagines#jordan henderson imagine#jordan henderson x reader#england national team imagine#england national team#footie fics#footballer fics#football fics
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What About Trust, Chapter 21 (Final Chapter)
‘Wow, this place is incredible!’ Cleo said in awe as they drove through the beautiful scenery on the Isle of Skye.
‘I can’t believe this place is so close to your hometown, yet you’ve never been.’ Loki tsked and shook his head.
‘I can’t believe it either!’ She giggled.
‘It is stunning.’ Loki said as he took glances around while driving along the quiet road.
When they turned up the dirt track to where they were staying, they were both in even more awe. It was up a hill and there was beautiful mountain sides surrounding them, aside from the front view which looked across beautiful fields and then had the sea view.
‘Oh my god. Look at this view! Are we seriously staying here for the weekend?’ Cleo said excitedly as she leapt out of the car before Loki even had it turned off.
‘We are indeed.’ Loki grinned as he emerged and walked over to stand by her, slipping his arm around her middle.
They dragged themselves away from the magnificent view and went to the cottage, which was just as stunning. It was small, but perfect for the two of them. One bedroom with a living room and joined kitchen. There was a nice sized bathroom too. There was a fireplace in the living room, making it really cosy.
‘This is just perfect. Like a dream.’ Cleo said as she ran around the place excitedly.
There was also a hot tub outside on the decking area, it was under a removable shelter so it could be used in all weather.
‘Imagine sitting in the hot tub when it’s snowing. That would be so damn cool!’ Cleo grinned.
‘It would indeed.’ Loki chuckled.
They had taken Cleo’s record player and some of their favourite records, as well as a few books for evenings. They went out and explored the island after getting unpacked, taking in all the sights and hiking up the hills and along some of the beaches, hand in hand.
Cleo was completely in heaven, she never wanted to leave.
And neither did Loki.
They both felt so at home there. There wasn’t even phone or wifi signal at their cottage, but they didn’t mind a single bit. It was freeing, in a sense. Being cut off from the world in that way. Besides, she was safer than anyone else in the world being with Loki. And he could just teleport them anywhere in an emergency.
They spent their evenings in the hot tub, with music playing as they left the kitchen doors open so they could hear the music.
After another day of sightseeing and enjoying the island, they were back at the cottage having a barbecue for their final night there.
They’d well and truly stuffed themselves full, so were both relaxing on the outside sofa with a glass of wine. Just talking, mainly about how amazing the place was and how they didn’t want to leave.
‘I don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable... But, we could have this life every single day.’ Loki said as he kissed the back of her hand.
‘What do you mean?’ Cleo asked, raising an eyebrow as she put her glass down.
‘I just want to be with you, darling. I don’t want anything or anyone else. I could use my powers to build us our perfect home here, wherever you wish. Or I could even buy this one, I can conjure up the money with ease. We can make any adjustments you wish, if need be. Same with to live on, you never need to work again if you don’t want to. I have a dimensional pocket, I can teleport home to gather our belongings and be back here within minutes. We could do a little traveling to the countries you told me you want to visit. No ties of a job holding us back.’
Loki wasn’t sure what she would think of that proposal. Suddenly packing up her life to come live here. Though he wanted nothing more, but he would follow her wherever she wanted to be. Whether that was here, Manchester or wherever.
Cleo’s eyes widened as she took in everything Loki had just said.
‘Are… are you serious? Do you really want to do that, to just… Be with me here? You don’t want to be in New Asgard or play hero with the others?’ Cleo asked.
‘Not at all. I just want you, my darling. I love you, so much. I will go wherever you want to be. I just want you to be happy.’ Loki gathered her hands into both of his.
‘I… I just want you to be happy, too… I would love to live here, with you. To have what we’ve had this weekend, freedom and just being together. But only if that’s what you would want, too. You are a Prince and I know you have rights to a throne, to rule.’
Loki shook his head. ‘Before I met you, perhaps that was what I still wanted. But not anymore, darling. I just want to be me, with you. As I am, no hiding or worrying about what people think of me. Or trying to impress anyone.’
Cleo closed her eyes and nodded. She felt her heart swelling with happiness. When she opened her eyes, Loki was a little worried as there was tears in her eyes. But she smiled.
‘I want nothing more. I just can’t believe that I’ve found someone who wants to be with me like you do. That I click so well with. And someone who can put up with me.’
Loki chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. ‘I give you my word, Cleo. You are my life, my love, my heart. You’re my everything.’
Cleo almost cried as she kissed him. ‘I love you, Loki.’ She said over his lips.
‘I love you too, Cleo.’ Loki said, his heart bursting with love and excitement for their new life that was about to start.
Together.
#Loki#Tom Hiddleston#what about trust#Loki x OFC#Loki x original female character#fan fiction#fluffy Loki#sweet Loki#completed
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What About Trust, Chapter 21 (Final Chapter)
TITLE: What About Trust
CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 21
AUTHOR: fanficshiddles
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal.
RATING: M
‘Wow, this place is incredible!’ Cleo said in awe as they drove through the beautiful scenery on the Isle of Skye.
‘I can’t believe this place is so close to your hometown, yet you’ve never been.’ Loki tsked and shook his head.
‘I can’t believe it either!’ She giggled.
‘It is stunning.’ Loki said as he took glances around while driving along the quiet road.
When they turned up the dirt track to where they were staying, they were both in even more awe. It was up a hill and there was beautiful mountain sides surrounding them, aside from the front view which looked across beautiful fields and then had the sea view.
‘Oh my god. Look at this view! Are we seriously staying here for the weekend?’ Cleo said excitedly as she leapt out of the car before Loki even had it turned off.
‘We are indeed.’ Loki grinned as he emerged and walked over to stand by her, slipping his arm around her middle.
They dragged themselves away from the magnificent view and went to the cottage, which was just as stunning. It was small, but perfect for the two of them. One bedroom with a living room and joined kitchen. There was a nice sized bathroom too. There was a fireplace in the living room, making it really cosy.
‘This is just perfect. Like a dream.’ Cleo said as she ran around the place excitedly.
There was also a hot tub outside on the decking area, it was under a removable shelter so it could be used in all weather.
‘Imagine sitting in the hot tub when it’s snowing. That would be so damn cool!’ Cleo grinned.
‘It would indeed.’ Loki chuckled.
They had taken Cleo’s record player and some of their favourite records, as well as a few books for evenings. They went out and explored the island after getting unpacked, taking in all the sights and hiking up the hills and along some of the beaches, hand in hand.
Cleo was completely in heaven, she never wanted to leave.
And neither did Loki.
They both felt so at home there. There wasn’t even phone or wifi signal at their cottage, but they didn’t mind a single bit. It was freeing, in a sense. Being cut off from the world in that way. Besides, she was safer than anyone else in the world being with Loki. And he could just teleport them anywhere in an emergency.
They spent their evenings in the hot tub, with music playing as they left the kitchen doors open so they could hear the music.
After another day of sightseeing and enjoying the island, they were back at the cottage having a barbecue for their final night there.
They’d well and truly stuffed themselves full, so were both relaxing on the outside sofa with a glass of wine. Just talking, mainly about how amazing the place was and how they didn’t want to leave.
‘I don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable... But, we could have this life every single day.’ Loki said as he kissed the back of her hand.
‘What do you mean?’ Cleo asked, raising an eyebrow as she put her glass down.
‘I just want to be with you, darling. I don’t want anything or anyone else. I could use my powers to build us our perfect home here, wherever you wish. Or I could even buy this one, I can conjure up the money with ease. We can make any adjustments you wish, if need be. Same with to live on, you never need to work again if you don’t want to. I have a dimensional pocket, I can teleport home to gather our belongings and be back here within minutes. We could do a little traveling to the countries you told me you want to visit. No ties of a job holding us back.’
Loki wasn’t sure what she would think of that proposal. Suddenly packing up her life to come live here. Though he wanted nothing more, but he would follow her wherever she wanted to be. Whether that was here, Manchester or wherever.
Cleo’s eyes widened as she took in everything Loki had just said.
‘Are… are you serious? Do you really want to do that, to just… Be with me here? You don’t want to be in New Asgard or play hero with the others?’ Cleo asked.
‘Not at all. I just want you, my darling. I love you, so much. I will go wherever you want to be. I just want you to be happy.’ Loki gathered her hands into both of his.
‘I… I just want you to be happy, too… I would love to live here, with you. To have what we’ve had this weekend, freedom and just being together. But only if that’s what you would want, too. You are a Prince and I know you have rights to a throne, to rule.’
Loki shook his head. ‘Before I met you, perhaps that was what I still wanted. But not anymore, darling. I just want to be me, with you. As I am, no hiding or worrying about what people think of me. Or trying to impress anyone.’
Cleo closed her eyes and nodded. She felt her heart swelling with happiness. When she opened her eyes, Loki was a little worried as there was tears in her eyes. But she smiled.
‘I want nothing more. I just can’t believe that I’ve found someone who wants to be with me like you do. That I click so well with. And someone who can put up with me.’
Loki chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. ‘I give you my word, Cleo. You are my life, my love, my heart. You’re my everything.’
Cleo almost cried as she kissed him. ‘I love you, Loki.’ She said over his lips.
‘I love you too, Cleo.’ Loki said, his heart bursting with love and excitement for their new life that was about to start.
Together.
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The Late Shift - Part 2
Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader
Words: 2k
Warnings/Tags: Little inklings of sexual themes. Otherwise we’re still in PG territory. Oh and mutual pining from two idiots. My favourite kind.
Authors Note: One shot? I don’t know her. Honestly, I don’t have any excuse. I just felt the urge to continue on with this dumb fluffy story because it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside and I needed that. Will we drive this car straight into smut town afterwards? Ah you’ll just have to see.
Catch up with Part 1 here
*
Paul always considered himself a smart guy. Perceptive, knowledgeable, with years of grueling education behind him to be where he is today.
His schooling, work, almost every minute of his waking moments was spent in the realm of artificial illustrations of correspondence. He could happily spend hours sifting through the words and numbers that made up all types of message transmission, might even admit he had a talent for decoding their significance and origin. Exchanges born from machinery were easy to analyse – they had set rules and gave little room for differing interpretation. He was comfortable in that world. Knew how things worked, what paths data and carefully devised information would take.
Human communication was infinitely harder to navigate. It was a skill he knew he was lacking in, compared to others at least. His words never came out the way he wanted, he struggled to say exactly what was wished to convey and agonised over the fact expression and tone could morph any remark into something with a whole different meaning.
Every day, he encountered people who used this as a tool - a weapon to obscure the truth and conceal hidden agendas. It was hard not to, working for the US government. In time, he’d become cynical. Wary of what people spoke aloud, assuming it was all said without much sincerity or reliability unless proven otherwise.
And then after another arduous day, there you were. Out of nowhere. Kind. Honest. Genuine. Within such an excruciatingly short interaction, you’d exuded all these traits so effortlessly. A breath of fresh air after being smothered by the smog the rest of his life contained.
Paul would easily admit his attraction to you was surprisingly swift. The rapturing smile you wore when you’d looked up from your notepad had him snared from the moment it appeared, an aura of natural vibrance and radiant energy shimmering out from your animated expression. What he’d expected to be a dry, tedious endeavour turned into a spark-filled scene, where an excited stranger made him feel both horrendously nervous and unusually at-ease. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like that.
It had also been a long time since he’d asked someone out on a date, for more than a few reasons. The more prolific Paul became in his job, the more unpredictable and unstable his life outside of it was. It took him across the country at a moments’ notice and consumed most hours of his day, meaning forging even short relationships was fairly difficult.
Plus… he just wasn’t good at it. Putting himself out there. He was shy, paralyzingly so. It’s not exactly something he could refute. His confidence was always born from experience and understanding, in knowing the reasons behind why things worked the way they did, along with being able to calculate what would happen next. No textbook could ever cover the entire spectrum of human personality, and there was no way to truly predict what a person might do or say.
So, without the security of knowledge behind him, uneasiness and apprehension took over in most of his social interactions, particularly with those he felt a magnetism to. It’s exactly how he thought he seemed during his time with you. Awkward and floundering. Not exactly the most charming attributes for a man to have. And yet, the longer he was in your presence, the more he sensed those foibles fade into the back of his mind.
Talking to you was easy. Easier than it had been with anyone during a first meeting. What hadn’t been easy was enduring the seconds your touch grazed over him in your delicate workings while taking each different measurement - his heart beating a little faster, his muscles becoming a little more tense. When you’d eventually let your stare reach his, he’d seen how your eyes moved to trace the lines of his mouth, and it set his insides on fire. He’d been frozen by the unique type of burn, his body locked in place while a rare impulse begged him to sink his lips onto yours. In the past, he struggled to kiss a woman even after several dates, unable to push past the fear and doubt to turn his desire into action. However, in that moment, he’d been all too eager. His hand had moved on its own accord, fingers slinking up your waist, about to pull you closer when interruption instantly shattered his resolve.
The urge was still there in the dialogue that followed, although the promise of seeing you tomorrow made it easier to walk away, safe in the knowledge he had another opportunity to ask you out when his confidence was properly steeled. For once, he could be smart about this. Use his natural intellect to plan and act accordingly, giving him the best odds of securing more time with you.
Oh, but that all went to shit when your text message popped up on his phone screen. Seeing those words, even if they were meant for someone else, made his excitement reach an unfathomable peak, and in turn made him recklessly send a response without taking a second to think about the consequences.
And now, Paul had never felt so stupid in his entire life.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, the phone in his palm lit up with your conversation on display, he felt his stomach spasm with anxiety. Were you going to reply? What would you say? What if his bluntness freaked you out? What if you weren’t even talking about him? Was this all something his mind conjured up?
As the minutes passed without any sign of a response, the initially minor sense of panic began to compound, weighing heavy on his chest, the chaos of his mind soon melting into one certainty - he’d totally fucked this up.
About to slump his forehead into the steering wheel in a display of despondency, Paul suddenly felt a flash of courage at remembering the view of your face peering up at him. He knew the image of it would haunt him if he didn’t do something. He had to fix this. Explain himself. But it needed to be in person. He wouldn’t let technology mess this up for him again.
With a purposeful breath, Paul exited his car and began to retrace his steps past the other shopfronts, silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. He hoped to surrender himself to a collectively embarrassing situation, laugh off the turn of events, having it all culminate in an offer of dinner once your shift had finished. He already had a place in mind, only a street away, a little dumpling house that was always open late. Perfect for a cosy, quiet date after a chance meeting.
When his eyes latched onto your figure through the glass window, he stopped his hand from reaching for the door handle. You were crouching down in front of a small boy, his mother behind him cradling a newborn baby, your hand gesturing towards an array of child size suits. Paul couldn’t help but watch as your warming smile beamed, guiding the boys hands to touch and feel over the material, your words evidently making him feel more at ease as his expression slowly relaxed out of its worried frown.
Creeping backwards to make sure you didn’t catch him in your periphery, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over his skin, having evidence that your lack of reply wasn’t due to any of the worst case scenarios he’d been fretting over. You were just busy, concentrated on your work, giving your time and expertise to others in the same way you’d given to him.
The realisation was enough for him slink away, still impatient for your next encounter but assured in it being set within the next day cycle. He just had to wait.
Although, waiting wasn’t exactly a talent of his either.
*
You were dying inside.
A friendly grin was plastered on your face as you conversed sweetly with the woman in front of you, making idle chit-chat while her son changed out of the suit you’d picked together, but the smile had never felt so insincere. Usually you loved when children came in to pick out ensembles for weddings and similarly formal events, but at the moment your mind was stuck on a small battery-powered rectangle sitting at your desk with a half-written message remaining under your lock-screen.
In the time before Paul’s response came through, you’d never felt more humiliated in your whole existence. Evaporating into thin air would have been a welcomed miracle. But when the returning text slid into focus, your whole mindset shifted.
He felt the same. He wanted you too.
You’d been in the middle of typing out a hasty invitation to come back and make true on his intentions when this overwhelmed mother with a fussy baby caught your attention. Her eldest son had done his best to iron out his only formal suit for the role of ring bearer in an aunt’s wedding this coming weekend, unfortunately resulting an a house full of smoke and a clump of burnt wool.
Personal matters withered into the background at the comprehension of her drained, exhausted demeanour, all your focus pointed back towards the job you’d been distracted from. Well, mostly.
You couldn’t avoid the thoughts and questions glinting in the back of your mind. Of what might have happened if this woman never appeared. What might be happening in an alternate timeline where you’d been able to send that waiting reply. Without intention, your wonderings turned into moving pictures – leading Paul into the back workshop, being roughly picked up onto the cutting table, his lips and yours finally connected in a heated clash, shedding all of his clothing until that heinous mustard shirt was crumpled on the floor-
The high pitched beep of the receipt machine snapped you back into reality, noting the relieved smile the mother wore while her son excitedly grabbed at the bags containing his dashing new suit.
“Thank you!” he hollered without needing to be prompted, waving his hand vigorously before skittering away to the door.
“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” the woman echoed, taking the receipt from your outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry for keeping you so late.”
“Oh don’t worry about it.” The time on the monitor screen just ticked over to 8:17pm, long after you would usually shut up shop and head home to your empty apartment. “I've got nowhere special to be.”
You each said your goodbyes, waiting until the precise moment her silhouette was out of sight before jumping to your phone. The same half written message was there, but now it felt impossible to finish. All traces of adrenaline had long since worn off, and the bravery that made you type out the risqué proposition was reduced to almost nothing. Your timid nature rushed back in full force, a thumb pressing hard on the little x button to erase all evidence of your out of character impulses.
Who were you kidding. You weren’t this person. Unashamed and brazen enough to dive into a fiery entanglement with a handsome stranger in the same evening you’d met. You wished you could be. There was never a time the concept was so enticing. But… it was a fantasy not meant for you to live out. They were destined for the outgoing, the cool and composed, the bold and sure-footed. You rarely felt like any of those things. And Paul, like most men, probably reserved their interest and attraction for those types of women. It was so silly of you to think any different. Getting your hopes up was foolish, and would only end in-
The tingle of the shopkeepers bell sounded, internally groaning as you slid your phone back onto the desk. “We’re closed,” you hawked, a coldness in your tone you couldn’t hide. Eyes snapping up to the intruder, a bolt of lightening shot through, barely able to stop the delight mixing into your blood.
“I just, uh, figured out something more that I needed,” Paul said softly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly nervous.
“You did?” you breathed. “W-what was it?”
His chest rose and fell with a calming exhale, making sure your stares were secured before giving his answer. “…You.”
*
Tagging some lovelies who might want to read. Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to tagged in future works!
@tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynz-andtonic @paterson-blue @miraclesabound @prismaticpizza @millenialcatlady
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Aurora: “People attack people that are different so quickly”
Interview by Aleksandra Brzezicka for Dork magazine (August 4th, 2021).
Aurora has paid a few visits to the world of mainstream media so far. You might know her from John Lewis Christmas advert, feature on ‘Into The Unknown’ for Frozen II or, most recently, ‘Runaway’ challenge where people would pose against a starry sky to the sound of her, now trending, song.
“I know for sure that ‘Runway’ can be a very good friend in times of need. It has been to me, and it’s always been nice for me to sing that on stage throughout my years of touring because it always brought me comfort,” she says.
Still, Aurora’s much more than your everyday social media sensation; she’s a soul-touching, 25-year-old Norwegian musician with an international cult following. Ever since the 2016 debut album ‘All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend’, like an empress, she’s been calling on with an ethereal voice all the outcasts to join her queendom. It’s a sanctuary ruled by the laws of magic and build on the solid soils of equality. Who wouldn’t want in?
“I go very deep within myself when I write songs, and I feel like that place I go to could be a magical world. I’ve always felt like I want music to be a way for us to face ourselves and our emotions,” she shares. “I try to make sure that people can disappear into this other place, and it’s a bit better than this world. I feel like it’s important for us sometimes to dream ourselves away and just be safe for a little while before we go back to the real world.”
The real world can be a scary place, especially if you feel like you don’t belong anywhere in particular. That’s why Aurora is making her grand comeback with ‘Cure For Me’, a new single that’s a playful spin on a very serious subject. “Inspiration for the song was mainly the countries where they can still do conversion therapy for gay people. I was just imagining how it must feel to be brought into place and be told that what you are is wrong and you need to be cured of it. Cured of your love. I thought how insanely helpless you must feel and how horrible it is and everything in the world that makes us believe that there’s something wrong with us,” she comments.
Aurora dug deep into society’s perverted psyche, trying to understand our tendency to undermine ourselves and question reality based on archaic views that never served us right. ‘Cure For Me’ is a declaration of independence from that cracked cycle. “It’s a celebration of everyone that’s been told that there’s something wrong with them. Nothing is wrong with us, and we should just embrace ourselves and let ourselves be. People attack people that are different so quickly. It’s a celebration anthem to reassure yourself that you’re fine,” she confides.
Though the single came to life two years ago, in the midst of touring, the time for it to be out is now, when every day can feel like we’re on the verge of some new catastrophe. “It’s a very fun song, and it’s very playful because we need it. I think we need it, the playfulness,” Aurora says.
After spending what was like a lifetime away, gracing international stages, Aurora felt a sense of relief finally being able to hide away in the cold cosiness of her Norwegian hometown. Surrounded by nature, closest family, books and art, she contemplated the meaning of broadly-defined existence and everyday hassles. “It made me thinking how much work we have to do, and it had also reminded me how strange this world is and how many things don’t really matter,” she says. That strangeness is a motif often underlining her music as it was from another universe. A universe where you can run with the wolves and dance on the moon. Entry fee is a small amount of child-like naivety and a strong desire to believe.
Asked what would she would do wielding any magic power she wishes, Aurora says: “Go back in history and prevent the fact that Europe took all the resources from Africa. Just prevent all of the things that made the world as it is today. People are at war and starving because many, many years ago, other countries took everything they had, so they were left with nothing. If people can just stop being hungry for more when they more than enough or they have enough because so many people have nothing. It should be a simple thing to fix. I don’t understand why some people need to have everything.”
As exciting it is to be one of the most interesting, and successful, voices on the alternative music scene, standing in the spotlight can be tiring after a while. That’s why, whenever in need of a recharge and a slight shift of perspective, Aurora confides in nature. She’s lucky enough to see mountains from her Bergan apartment. “Nature keeps me very inspired because I love her, and also, she’s in pain. She’s given us so much, and she’s so diverse. Multi-diverse. She’s beautiful, dangerous and sensitive. It’s very inspiring for me to think about Mother Earth and all of her powers. Her hardness and softness. It’s very spiritual and magical for me. Like music.”
While Aurora’s magic is sourced somewhere out-of-this-world, she doesn’t want to keep it locked there. The goal has always been to share it with anyone who might need it as much as she does. Her tribe of daydreamers stays grounded to reality and ready to stand up against any inequalities and insensitivities of this era.
“I’m very inspired by people around me because people are going through so many things, and they all think that they’re alone when in reality there are so many people going through exactly the same. We can just speak about it, and we don’t. That’s very fascinating to me how scared we are of opening up,” she shares. If Aurora says so, maybe we shouldn’t run away anymore. Following her lead, let’s learn how to open our hearts to each other. Even if only a little bit.
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Paging Healer Malfoy // Chapter Five - Past Hauntings (D.M.)
A/N: CHAPTER FIVE!! Dates and drama, what more could you ask for? I actually wrote most of this before I even started to write Chapter Four, I was that excited for one bit! I hope you all like! All my medical knowledge comes from ER, so if there’s anything wrong, I apologise!
Summary: Draco has finally asked (Y/N) out, but will their date run smoothly?
Warnings: I made up a jinx, mentions of injuries, brief descriptions of procedures, strong reader, fluff, swearing, mean old men, mentions of food, kissing - IT ENDS WITH A BUTTLOAD OF FLUFF.
Word count: 4.2k
Prologue // Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four
Draco lands on (Y/N)’s doorstep half an hour before their reservation at a bistro recommended to him by Dean.
He releases a shaky breath before knocking twice on her front door. Draco had only been to her home three or four times through the length of their friendship; (Y/N) much preferred to relax at his place and at his, she was closer to the hospital should she be called for anything.
Calming his heart, Draco fiddles with the cuff of his white shirt; ensuring that just enough poked out from underneath the black suit jacket he had chosen to wear.
It takes another knock at her door for (Y/N) to answer; she wrenches the door open with an apologetic smile, “I’m so sorry, Draco, I’m almost ready. I just need to find my shoes, jacket and bag and we can go.”
“Don’t apologise,” He laughs; his nerves abating somewhat, “You were dancing weren’t you?”
(Y/N) flushes, “How did you know?”
Draco points above him; to her bedroom where he can hear the well-known sounds of ABBA playing, “You love ABBA, it makes sense you would dance.”
She rolls her eyes, “Alright Sherlock, I was dancing to ABBA and I lost track of time, is that better?”
Draco laughs, nodding, “Much better.”
She smiles, “Good. Let me go grab the rest of my things and we can go.”
Draco doesn’t verbalise his response; he simply nods at her, watching her walk away, admiring her outfit. (Y/N) wears figure hugging tailored trousers; tapered so they’re tighter at the hems. His eyes rake over her body as she climbs the stairs to her room; he chides himself for not acting like a gentlemen but the stirring desire in his veins tells him not to bother.
(Y/N) rushes back down the stairs; almost tripping on the last step as she bounces around, trying to slip her foot into her heel. Draco lurches forward; reaching for her just as she topples forward. He can’t help the laugh that leaves his mouth, “Are you okay?”
She stands with a huff; hoisting her bag on her shoulder having put her jacket on upstairs, “I’m fine. Shall we get going?”
Draco smirks; holding out his arm for her to take, “As you wish, Dancing Queen.”
-------
Draco had booked a table at a small bistro; nothing overly fancy, but still cosy enough to retain the romantic atmosphere he hopes will continue throughout the date.
It’s not an overly large restaurant; fifteen or so tables all covered with red and white gingham cloth. A small kitchen resides in the back of the bistro; the scent of Mediterranean herbs making Draco’s stomach rumble as he and (Y/N) are led to their table.
“How did you find this place?” She asks, sliding into her chair, shucking off her jacket.
“Dean recommended it to me.”
(Y/N) smiles, “I was gonna say. This doesn’t have ‘Malfoy’ written all over it.”
He raises an eyebrow, “And what does?”
She taps a finger to her chin; deliberating with a small smile, “Michelin Stars, for starters. Huge plates with tiny portions of food, and expensive wine lists.”
Draco holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re right. However, my father is the sommelier of the family, I simply drink the stuff.”
(Y/N) snorts, “Is Draco Malfoy a rebel?”
He blushes at her teasing tone; glancing back down to the menu in his hands. A satisfied smile spreads across (Y/N)’s face at the sight of leaving Draco speechless; he so often had comebacks ready. It was a treat to see him so affected by her.
She peers down at the menu, “What are you thinking?”
“Is it completely stereotypical of me to go for the steak?” Draco ponders.
She shakes her head, laughing, “I may have been thinking the same thing.”
They hand their menus over to the waiter; giving their orders and choosing not to drink. Instead, they stick to water. Work tomorrow would be easier if they didn’t have a hangover to deal with as well.
“How long are you on tomorrow?” Draco asks.
(Y/N) shakes her head, “Let’s not talk about work.”
“I can do that,” He comments, “What would you like to talk about?”
She raises an eyebrow, “How did you know I was listening to ABBA? I thought you didn’t care much for muggle music.”
Draco flushes, “I don’t care for a lot of muggle music.”
“But you like ABBA?”
Draco nods; trying not to roll his eyes, “I like ABBA.”
(Y/N) laughs; clapping her hands together in delight, “That is my new favourite thing about you, Draco.”
“Oh?” He smirks, “What was it before?”
(Y/N) flushes as she averts her eyes; glancing around the room, “Truthfully?”
“Now you have me worried…”
She shoots him a glare, “I won’t tell if you’re going to be an arse.”
Draco holds one hand up in surrender; the other crosses over his heart, “I promise I won’t be an arse tonight.”
(Y/N) smiles shyly, “Your eyes.”
“My eyes?”
(Y/N) nods; the flush spreading to her neck as she bites her lip. The specific knowledge settles in Draco; making its home in his heart.
She recovers quickly, “What about you?”
“What about me?” Draco counters; knowing exactly where she’s going with this.
“What’s your favourite thing about me?”
Draco shuffles in his seat; butterflies running riot in his stomach. He reaches for his glass of water; wetting his mouth before speaking, “I don’t have a specific thing.”
(Y/N) visibly deflates; disappointed at his words, “You don’t?”
Draco nods; deciding honesty to be the best policy, “My favourite thing about you is all of you.”
“Oh…” (Y/N) whispers; a mesmerising smile breaking over her face and leaving him breathless. She opens her mouth to say more; to say what she feels in this moment, but as the words start to form on the tip of her tongue she’s interrupted by the arrival of their food.
With practiced flourish, the waiter places their food in front of them. The smell and sight making Draco’s mouth water. He digs in after sending a broad smile over to (Y/N) who watches Draco with bright eyes and a large smile herself.
Conversation is little as they eat; the both of them practiced in the art of needing to eat and rushing off to the next patient.
They get halfway through their main courses when Draco’s pager sounds. He looks at (Y/N) apologetically, “I thought I had turned it off. I told the hospital that I was off for the night, not be called in at any time.”
(Y/N) moves to answer, but she is interrupted by her own pager sounding in her bag. She glances at Draco sheepishly; the apology glimmering in her eyes as she reaches for it. Her expression changes as she reads over the number on the screen; Draco feels so concerned he can’t help but reach for his own pager to read what’s on the screen.
It takes them less than five minutes to pay the bill and rush from the restaurant; hurrying into a side alley to apparate to the emergency room.
They’re greeted by Vera; she looks them up and down, “Did you drink?”
Draco and (Y/N) shake their heads, “We’re both on tomorrow; we stuck to water.”
Vera thrusts trauma gowns at them, “Good. We need you sharp.”
Draco’s senses hone in; attention becoming laser sharp and focused. The shift in him is visible all to watching him; the relaxed posture dropping away to make room for the attending. He looks to Vera as he slides on goggles, “What do we have coming in?”
“Large raid on one of the last death eater hang outs. A battle broke out; everyone injured is coming our way,” Vera shakes her head, “It’s even being reported on muggle news; that’s how bad things got.”
“ETA?”
“Less than two minutes.”
Draco exhales, “Where are the trainees?”
“Behind you Healer Malfoy,” Matthew Kinghorn’s voice calls out.
He turns to find all four already gowned and gloved, ready and waiting. He meets the eyes of each one, “This will be your first large trauma, am I correct?” At their nods, he continues, “Okay. Split off to your attendings; do not get in the way. Help when you can but do not overcrowd. Kinghorn, I want you with me.”
Matthew startles; already heading towards his attending. Draco shakes his head; waiting for the other trainees to file away, “I want to see how you handle a trauma situation after I saw you with our impalement. We don’t exactly know what’s coming in but stay alert. If you think you’re going to be sick, leave the room. Do you understand?”
Matthew nods; remaining silent, following Draco as the first of the injured roll up.
From there, it’s close to a blood bath. St. Mungo’s is the only wizarding hospital in the entire country; supposedly equipped to handle such traumas. However, when the patients are from two groups with such differing ideals, keeping them separated is difficult.
In his head, Draco plans to make another appeal to the Minster for Magic; wondering if Hermione could help him persuade the powers that be for another hospital.
Piercing screams distract Draco from his plans to expand the hospital. With Matthew close behind, Draco rushes towards the sound. Being wheeled in by medics is a young Auror; barely out of his twenties or so Draco assumes – his face and body have been burnt so badly by a jinx that it makes it difficult for Draco to age the patient but also for the patient to offer anything but his screams.
The moment they enter the trauma room, Draco administers a pain potion. In cases like this, the survival rate was low. The most that could be done is to offer as much comfort to the patient as possible.
Draco looks over to Matthew, “How are you feeling, Kinghorn?”
Matthew’s gaze finally meets Draco; his skin looking rather green, “I’ve never seen something so bad.”
“Cases like this are rare, but they do happen. Now, the patient isn’t getting enough oxygen with the mask, what do we need to do?”
Matthew flounders; Draco adjusts the mask on the patient’s face, repeating his words, “What do we need to do, Matthew?”
The use of his first name snaps his out of whatever stupor, “Intubate. He needs to be intubated.”
“Have you seen one done?”
Matthew nods, “Healer (Y/L/N) showed me last week.”
“Good. You know what they say, ‘see one, do one, teach one’. Get over here, Matthew,” Draco leans over the patient, “Sir, we’re going to have to put a tube in your throat to help you breath.”
The patient nods; a tear falling down his face as he realises the likelihood of him coming off the vent is low. At the patient’s nod, Draco administers a sedative – to help the patient and Matthew through this. Draco looks to Matthew; nodding his head slightly for him to begin the procedure.
Matthew bounces to life; rushing to the head of the patient. Draco hands him the scope and tube needed for the procedure; speaking him through it as Matthew visualises the cords, slipping the tube down the patient’s throat – aiming for the lungs and not the stomach.
(Y/N) joins Draco as Matthew finishes intubating the patient; the need for muggle medicine a priority when the jinxes and curses were so bad there was little chance of recovery. This particular patient had been hit with the extensive burn jinx – a nasty jinx that isn’t seen too often as it causes third degree burns across 80% of the body; spreading across the body like a wildfire, giving the witch or wizard hit a low chance of survival.
“How did you find our first date?” Draco asks as (Y/N) begins to debride the burns; giving the patient some chance of relief.
(Y/N) smiles at him from over the trauma, “It’s like you knew exactly what I wanted.”
Draco can’t help the laugh that escapes him; quickly regaining his professionalism, however and apologising to the patient even though he is sedated. He looks back to her, “Can you handle it from here?”
She nods; eyes flickering the trauma room behind, “I’ve got it. I’ll find you when I’m done.”
Draco grins at her; pulling off his gloves and gown before rushing into the next trauma. The patient is agitated; shouting and screaming at the nurses, leaving Jude Prewett scared but firm as she talks him down.
The Auror only gets angrier at the sight of Draco; hollering for the whole floor to hear, “I won’t have you treat me! I demand another Healer. Get me another Healer.”
“Healer Malfoy is the best Healer we have,” Jude reassures; eyes flickering between the patient and Draco.
The patient shakes his head; adamant, “I won’t have a Death Eater treat me. He’ll kill me just as he would look at me.”
Draco wants to shout; wants to get in the patient’s face and list all the ways he’s repented since he was a scared and vulnerable sixteen year old, doing what he thought was right for his family.
He doesn’t though; he sighs sadly, stepping back from the patient, “I understand sir, I’ll go fetch another Healer,” He looks to Jude, “Are you okay for a few more minutes while I go get Healer (Y/L/N)?”
Jude nods; eyes sad from Draco’s quick dismissal. As Draco returns to trauma room one, he hears Jude say, “I hope you know you just insulted one of the best Healers we have.”
(Y/N) looks up as Draco re-enters, “What’s wrong?”
Draco shakes his head; hating the lump that has formed in his throat, “Do you mind treating next door?”
She nods down to the patient she is currently working on, “I’m busy here. Why can’t you do it?”
“He doesn’t want to be treated by me. Wants another Healer.”
“Why?” She demands; voice angry, eyes angrier as they glance into the room behind Draco.
“We’ll talk about it later. Will you please treat him? I can take over here.”
(Y/N) looks like she very much wants to argue with him, but she decides against it. She nods quietly; handing Draco her scalpel before disrobing, “What’s his name?” She asks, referring to the patient.
Draco shrugs; focusing his attention on the burn victim, “We didn’t get that far.”
-----
(Y/N) liked to believe that she was patient; she knew when she began her training as a Healer that she would need to learn the art of patience and fast for there are some patients who have a list of medical complaints a mile long.
However, she did not have any patience for the narrow-minded Auror ranting before her.
“I can’t believe a place like this would hire him.”
“Hire who?” She asks; daring him to say it.
“Him,” He spits; jutting his chin to next door when (Y/N) knows Draco works diligently over another Auror who may only have hours to live due to the extensiveness of their burns.
“That man you’re spitting about happens to be working on your colleague.”
The Auror rolls his eyes, “My colleague wouldn’t be in his mess if it wasn’t for families like his. I knew who he was the moment he walked in the room; Lucius Malfoy’s brat.”
(Y/N) grits her teeth; continuing to stitch up the man’s arm; refusing to rise to his vitriol. He takes her silence as permission to continue, “I’m surprised we didn’t find his father there. We certainly found a lot of his friends; hiding together like rats, plotting their next uprising as if the last one worked. Who are they going to worship now? The Dark Lord is gone.”
“And yet,” (Y/N) breathes, “You cannot say his name without being scared.”
The Auror glares at her; not happy to have his courage questioned. He remains silent through the rest of his treatment; seething at her words, knowing that she called him on his bullshit.
(Y/N) removes her gloves, standing from her chair, “I would say that it’s been a pleasure to heal you given that you’re an Auror, but it hasn’t. I will be contacting your superior for the abuse you’ve shown my colleague – who, for your information, has nothing to repent for. I understand questioning the adults that followed Lord Voldemort, but you do not get to question the children who were innocent bystanders in a game they didn’t understand.”
The Auror laughs menacingly, “Speak to my superior, see if I care.”
(Y/N) grins, “I will. You’ve ballsed up big time – want to know why?”
The Auror remains quiet so (Y/N) tells him anyway, nodding towards Draco, “Your boss is one of his best friends.”
The colour fades from the Auror’s face and (Y/N) admits to herself that she rather enjoyed telling him what’s what. Patience is something that (Y/N) is still learning; even almost ten years into her career, but what she will not stand for in any form, is bullying.
----
Draco takes a moment of leave from the burn patient when his family arrive in floods of tears; asking about statistics and whether he was positive that nothing could be done.
He doesn’t see the commotion, but he hears it; her voice travels down the hall, easily leading Draco to her. He finds her gesturing wildly to an unprepared Harry Potter.
Harry catches his eye; pleading silently for help. Draco makes his way to her side; placing his hand on the small of her back, “What’s happening here?”
“I was just tell Harry about that lovely patient we have
“Auror Flintlock?” Draco asks; taking the chart from (Y/N)’s hands.
Her hands settle on her hips, “Potter, you have to do something about him. He was wildly inappropriate towards Draco.”
Draco sighs, “Patients can refuse to be treated by certain Healers, (Y/N).”
(Y/N) purses her lips; her attention still fixed on Harry, “I want to see him at least written up and giving an official warning for how he continued to speak after Draco left the room.”
Harry nods, “He’ll be written up, (Y/N). He’s been skating on thin ice for a while.”
(Y/N) folds her arms; a victorious look on her face, “Thank you, Potter.”
Harry smiles; nodding at them both, not missing their closeness. He makes a mental note to mention it to Draco the next time they go drinking. Harry looks towards trauma one, “How’s he doing?”
Draco pats Harry’s shoulder, “80% thickness burns to most of his body. It was a nasty jinx, Harry.”
“How long does he have?”
“Hours,” Draco states plainly, “His family is with him now.”
Harry nods; silver lining his eyes, sighing, “Good. They should be. He’s been on the force less than a year.”
With little else to say, Harry leaves Draco and (Y/N) – fulfilling his duty as an Auror; going to comfort the family of one of their own.
Draco and (Y/N) retreat to the break room; never officially being on in the first place. Like always, the ancient television set only displays the muggle news in a hushed volume; the red banner skirting across the bottom of the screen announcing an unexplained explosion on the outskirts of London. The news anchor repeats how lucky it was that no-one was hurt. Draco represses the urge to roll his eyes; muggles weren’t hurt, that’s correct and he’s thankful for that, but his emergency room is filled with Aurors and Death Eaters alike – all injured and vulnerable because of what happened tonight.
Draco settles at the round table in the middle of the room; sighing in relief at getting off his feet for a little bit. (Y/N) sits next to him; her hand reaching for his across the table. An act of affection so naturally displayed that it sends Draco’s heart rate through the roof.
He regrets the fact that their date had been cut short, but with any luck, (Y/N) wouldn’t mind a repeat. He thinks to their brief conversation in the bistro and for a second, he wonders whether she would protest much to his version of wining and dining. Reservations needing to be made weeks in advance; wine lists four pages long – each bottle with multiple zeroes behind the name. He realises he would like to show her the world in which he grew up; the fancy dinners and balls, but he also accepts that he would be happy in any world as long as he’s with her.
“Are you staying with him?” (Y/N) asks; concern in her eyes.
Draco nods, “I’ll stay with him through this. Matthew will need me to help pronounce.”
(Y/N) nods, “I’ll stay with you too.”
He reaches for her hand, “Thank you.”
She squeezes once, shrugging, “One thing’s for certain, you’re not a boring date, Draco.”
“It’s about to get even more wild,” Draco drawls.
“Oh? How’s that?”
Draco points to the pile of unfinished paperwork near his locker, “We have all that to work through.”
(Y/N) fans herself, “Slow down, Romeo. Paperwork is a second date kind of thing isn’t it?”
Draco laughs loudly, “So you see a second date?”
(Y/N) beams at him; pulling a pen from her bag, “I see a second date.”
------
Two hours later, Matthew interrupts their squabble about news anchor’s to say that the young Auror’s oxygen levels have dropped. Draco stands; knowing it won’t be long now.
It isn’t. Less than ten minutes after entering the room, Draco helps Matthew pronounce the young Auror; explaining the death kit and how the nurses do it.
(Y/N) looks up when Draco re-enters the break room; the question written over her face. Draco nods; silently confirming her suspicions.
They apparate back to his place; neither of them hungry after such an extensive trauma. (Y/N) throws herself on the couch; groaning at the softness, “You know, this is the comfiest couch I have ever sat on.”
Draco laughs; picking up her legs and settling them over his as he sits down next to her, “Are you just saying that because you wore heels all night?”
(Y/N) frowns down at her bare feet; having kicked off the offending footwear the moment she landed in Draco’s flat, “That could be part of it.”
“I knew it!” Draco declares with a broad smile, “You only agreed to the date so you could lay on my couch more.”
(Y/N) stretches her limbs out, “Can you blame me? This couch is a gift from Merlin himself.”
Silence falls between the two of them; it’s not awkward – far from it. It’s the kind of silence where they both know they’re thinking over the night’s events and remembering the young Auror who passed less than two hour ago.
“You didn’t have to do that earlier, you know,” Draco whispers.
(Y/N) sits up the couch; swinging her legs around. She cuddles up to Draco, “Yeah, I did. I saw your face in there, I had to do something.”
Draco shakes his head, “It wasn’t the first time; it won’t be the last either.”
“What do you mean it wasn’t the first time?”
“I mean that it wasn’t the first time a patient has refused to be treated by me,” He sighs; heart heavy as he thinks of the early days of his career when the mark on his arm was as dark as the day it had been seared into his skin, “There are still those who have not forgiven my family for their involvement in both wizarding wars.”
(Y/N) frowns; staring up at him, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Draco shrugs, “Truthfully, it hadn’t happened in a while. Auror Flintlock was the first patient in almost a year to refuse my treatment.”
“You still should have told me.”
“I know,” He admits, “Will you forgive me?”
She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “I don’t know,” She starts, “What’s in it for me?”
Draco chuckles; leaning in to her, “What would you like?”
(Y/N) takes it upon herself to connect their lips. She brushes her lips against Draco’s softly; to gauge his reaction. Draco gasps gently as the touch; unexpected but definitely not unwelcome. She pulls away; a hairsbreadth away from him, but he surges forward, reconnecting their lips in a kiss that screams pent up emotion and long-lasting love.
She lets him take control of the kiss; surrendering herself to his mouth and wandering hands as he presses her further into the couch.
They’re a mess of hands, lips, and tongue. Her hands work on the white button down he wears; unfastening the buttons and pushing it from his shoulders before running her hands down the flat expanse of his stomach.
Draco shudders at her touch; briefly wondering if whether this is what it feels like to internally combust. He’s dreamt of this for long so; sometimes waking up in the middle of the night with the taste of her in his mouth and desire lighting up his veins.
Her hands continue wander as he slows down the kiss; slowing their pace so they move together languidly. He doesn’t want to rush a thing; he wants to feel every inch of her set him on fire.
Breaking the kiss, Draco pulls her from the couch. She throws him a puzzled look as he leads her into his bedroom. Draco gives her a questioning look; searching her eyes for permission, making sure she hasn’t changed her mind since the couch. With a small smile, (Y/N) tugs Draco towards her by grabbing his belt.
He connects their lips once more, kicking the bedroom door shut behind him.
**********
Paging Healer Malfoy taglist: @sycathorn-slush @obsessedwithrandomthings @kpopgirlbtssvt @kalimagik @brycelahelalover @fallinallinmendes @mischi3f-manag3d @remmysrecs @willowbleedsonpaper @nao-cchi @haphazardhufflepuff @soundsquid27 @mytreec @maydillydally @chaoticgirl04 @pregnant-piggy @rhyxn @acciotwinz @birdie-writes @reaganwonders @chanelwonders @izzytheninja @ravenclawbitch426 @ohissandhalasta @missmulti @nebulablakemurphy @pointlesscoconut @cherrylita @harpersmariano @slytherinlovesgryffindor @falconfeather23435 @namoreno @johannalauraaa
Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @reaganwonders @sophia-gwendolyn @ravenclawbitch426
***if your username is in bold, I was unable to tag you.
#draco malfoy x reader#Draco Malfoy#draco malfoy fanfic#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco x reader#draco malfoy one shot#draco malfoy x female reader#draco malfoy x fem reader#draco x you#draco x y/n#draco x female reader#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy fluff#draco fluff#fluff#paging healer malfoy#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#x reader#reader insert#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy reader insert#post hogwarts#st mungos#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#draco malfoy series#draco fanfiction
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10 years of Superlinguo
Superlinguo started as a blog ten years ago on April 12, 2011.
A very brief history
Superlinguo began as a collaborative project with Georgia Webster, who I knew through community media. Georgia had done a linguistics major a year or two ahead of me, and the blog was a fun way for us both to engage in linguistics. We had originally planned to start a podcast, but it turned out to be too difficult for us to schedule recordings, so we started the blog instead. It took us a few months to get around to buying the domain name, after starting out (and remaining) on Tumblr, but we started the twitter account at the same time as the blog. Georgia slowly stepped away as her (non-linguist) work commitments grew, and by 2016 this enterprise was exclusively mine. Many people have only ever known Superlinguo as a solo project, but the collaborative origins were so crucial to me finding the rhythm, voice and motivation to keep the blog going in the early days.
Originally, we would post three times a week. That makes me exhausted to think about now. I dropped posting frequency down, and by 2017 I was posting once a week, and have been able to maintain that schedule ever since.
Superlinguo has evolved as my interests and skills have evolved. It started very generally as a way for us to engage with topics in the news and meme-scape. I tried out lots of different types of posts, some of which stuck and others didn’t. As I finished grad school and moved through eight years of contract jobs in different countries, Superlinguo became a place for me to collate and share my work across other platforms, make accessible summaries of my research and share research or ideas that amuse me. As a result of finding a role for Superlinguo, over the years the relationship between this blog and my professional life has shifted. It started as an anonymous blog that I assured my supervisors did not interfere with my PhD writing, to something that I do in work time as part of my commitment to making research accessible and engaging. Superlinguo now acts as a long-term personal memory device, typos and all.
Regular features, then and now
There are a few types of posts that have remained since the early days of the blog, including book reviews for fiction, non-fiction, and kids book. I’ve also done annual posts on the etymology of Christmas words, and most years we’ve had an annual end-of-year post full of linguistic-themed gifts. I also write summaries of academic articles I publish, although I’ve never collated them (here are a few).
Superlinguo linguistics books list - fiction and non-fiction
Linguistics Books for Kids - the Superlinguo list
Christmas words: The full Superlinguo list
Seasonal gift guide
I’ve been running the Linguistic Job interview series since 2015, and doing annual summary posts since 2016. Since 2017 I’ve been regularly updating a list of linguistics podcasts. From time-to-time I also share a By Lingo piece that I write for The Big Issue.
Superlinguo Linguist Job Interviews full list
Year in review posts
Linguistics and Language Podcasts
By Lingo posts
There are a few types of posts from the early days of the blog that haven’t survived. Things we wish English had was a way for me to explore interesting linguistic features while having fun picking on English for being deficient. We also used to have monthly link-o-rama posts of things we’d seen online. I imagine they’re link graveyards now. We also put out some teacher resources when we’d make them for workshops, but we just started pointing people to other resources instead.
Things we wish English had
Link-o-rama
Teacher resources
A lot of earlier posts were also much shorter and based on linguistic observations about memes or news. I do much more of that ephemeral posting on Twitter these days.
Stats stats stats
Since 2011 there have been 1182 posts. The blog has just over 38,000 Tumblr followers (although I imagine many of them are ghosts these days). The biggest posts (based on Tumblr traffic) is this summary of research on the gestures of blind people, which has 51,573 notes.
I still have great affection for Tumblr as a platform. There’s still a thriving, nerdy community of curious people on here, although perhaps we’re not as young and active as the heydays of the platform at the start of the 2010s.
Blogging the future
Superlinguo and I have settled into a comfortable internet middle age routine. It’s sustainable, it fits in with the rest of my work life, and it still fills me with so much joy to share linguistics and my work on this blog. Internet platforms and fads come and go, and I’m sure I’ll start more lingcomm projects in the future, but Superlinguo is my cosy home on the internet, and I look forward to welcoming you back in the future.
Related posts
Happy 6th birthday Superlinguo!
5 years of Superlinguo
These were, apparently, the only other years I celebrated with posts!
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A mundanity that creeps into your very soul
Insidious Humdrum is he most intriguing and controversial character in Simon Snow books. It also one of the main characters of “Carry On” book, and, (as unpopular opinion) - he is still appears in “Wayward Son” - he mentioned by Simon, Agatha, Penny, Baz multiple times as nightmarish memories.
I believe Humdrum will make his appearance in third book and I want to dig on why he is so important in “Carry On” set and why Simon might be not quite done with him.
Humdrum is “official” antagonist of the first book, the prophesy which gave Simon “The Chosen One” title also implies that his only mission in life is to banish the Greatest Threat of World of Mages.
It’s important to notice that Simon himself is not really invested in fighting Humdrum, he strangely detached from his life mission:
“When the Humdrum comes after me, I fight him. When he sends dragons, I kill them. When you trick me into meeting a chimera, I go off. I don’t get to choose or plan. I just take it as it comes. And someday, something will catch me unawares or be too big to fight, but I’ll fight anyway. I’ll fight until I can’t anymore—what is there to think about?”
Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”
Think about it - he never create strategies, he never tries to understands what is it he tries to fight with, he never initiate the battle, he accepts battles, when he can’t avoid them. You’d think that he just escalate this part of job to The Mage, but then, (say to compare with HP) he doesn’t exactly bothers The Mage with questions or he doesn’t try to find out what Humdrum behaves like this and what is he plotting.
Oh, yes, plotting. See, we could say - you know, Simon is just like this, he’s quite passive, he hates to think or take action, but it’s untrue. Simon, in fact, has 3 antagonists: first one is Humdrum, which was given to him, second one is Mage (which as Voldemort in HP both created him and destroyed) and third is the only one antagonist he actually chose - Baz, the handsome vampire. Because Simon chose him (and Baz accepted). it is this antagonist he is really fighting and very passionate about: he thinks about his plotting every day, he cracks his secret/superpower, he finds his weakness and “defeats” him. Simon is capable of active fighting, thinking and strategising.
WHY Simon is so NOT invested in fighting Humdrum?
Let’s take a look at Humdrum and Simon, using Penny’s method, aka - what do we know, here I gathered a small table of data for these two:
So clearly, you can see that Humdrum is very unusual antagonist. Yes we can see that like in many pairs protagonist-antagonist there are a few opposite qualities of them, and it’s normal, it is trigger to fight dynamics. But at the same they are sort fig leaf to hide from Simon (or reader) who Humdrum really is.
Humdrum - is Simon’s doppelgänger. And that is VERY important, let’s look at this from writer point of view, it is not your usual antagonist-just-a-person-who-have-opposite-beliefs-or-hates-you-for-some-reason. This antagonist is VERY attached to protagonist, he is in fact his continuation.
WHY would you want to write exactly this type of antagonist, what do you want to say?
I have multiple answers to go through.
1) To show Simon’s complexity. To show _protagonist_ complexity and somehow preserve the certain image of him. In “Carry On” Simon (at least for me as a reader) associated purely with soft and positive features, he is the definition of the good and kind hero. Yes, he’s impatient and short tempered, but he is empathic, he is thoughtful, he cares about most of the people around (he protect and shield his _chosen_ enemy, Baz. He won’t end him without second thought when he finally has opportunity - the scene in catacombs), he doesn’t hold grudges or avenge betrayal, he always tries to think above the things, see the whole picture, kinda look past himself. It is very high EQ and it is my dream character. But realistically for kid who had no one to raise him to love and understand people; with tough childhood - it is impossible to have no dark sides. Again, remember how annoyingly for reader neurotic HP would be in books? Well, guess what, his dark side is still in a book, it’s just detached from him, to not spoil his image for reader. Perhaps, because at this point (introducing the character) his dark sides are not allowed to make impression and they are not important YET.
2) To allow protagonist to do things he want to do, but can’t. This is “Jekyll and Hide” type of protagonist and yes, this is fair for Humdrum too. He destroys things and doesn’t feel bad about it. He “mundane” and again, he doesn’t feel bad about it. He doesn’t have to go to magic school and still - he is known, strong, dangerous. But most importantly - he can express his negative feelings.
He is unhappy to be forgotten - he attracts attention (quite brutally); he is unhappy to be the only one who left to deal with trauma - he reminds about it - he summons Simon exactly at the place where bad things were happening (Lancashire) and he takes the form Simon probably tries to push away from his mind; he dislikes Mage - he talks to the Mage harsh and dismissively and laughing at him; the only people which Humdrum snatches/damages away from Simon are Agatha and Baz - it might be some sort of jealousy expression, and surely he express his jealousy about Simon’s skill and development. And IF he really hates the magic - he sure express his hatred good too, by literally destroying and he allows himself to feel pleasure from act of destruction (the face expression Simon never saw on his own face).
And often, this reasoning for introducing doppelgänger goes with implying that protagonist has hidden desires to not be as good as he currently is. What doppelgänger does, it is what protagonist secretly desires to do.
To sum this these 2 points - they _usually_ lead us to the point that protagonist is not as good he thinks he is. And while it is partly true - I believe, it is NOT Humdrum purpose.
3) While Humdrum is surely threat to magic, is he Simon’s antagonist, really? Does he hates Simon? Do his actions have purpose to destroy what Simon have/created? It is a big no, to all these questions.
Humdrum is metaphor for Simon’s trauma, he tries to shove away from himself.
Many people talk about Humdrum in the book, but most informative are - Penny, Mage and Baz, Simon and Humdrum himself.
Penny, I believe, is an author’s reflection in the book, so her words are clues), and she tell us - that Humdrum face is his real face (he is Simon), he’s childish and Simon’s dealing with negative emotions frustration/fear/annoyance/going off brings him joy (genuine childish laugh). She also tell Simon, the reason why he have to fight Humdrum - cause he the only one who can (and have to) do it.
Which is true.
Mage - who is the real Simon’s antagonist and evil in the book - is the one who setups the reality “Humdrum is evil, you have to fight it”. Which can be easily translated to “Your feelings/experiences are not valid, you have to get rid of them”. He also setups example of not being important as a person, but being important as a weapon, to sharp your blade constantly if you wish.
“Look at me, Simon. Have you ever known me to indulge myself with a normal life? Where is my wife? My children? Where’s my house in the country with my cosy chair and a fat cocker spaniel to bring me my slippers? When do I go on holiday? When do I take a break? When do I do anything other than prepare for the battle ahead?
Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”
Again - it translates to these old methods of dealing with trauma: fight it, ignore it, experience more trauma to make yourself numb. It doesn’t work. Mage doesn’t care about Simon. But in a way, Simon follows his instructions.
Baz - he is the symbol of healing love Simon needs (one of his defining quotes is “I chose you” - returning Simon everything what was taken away by Mage at that point) he have experienced Humdrum only one time, but it’s enough for him to figure it out precisely. He understands that Humdrum is Simon (or his part) and he does not hesitate to confront Simon with it, because it is important. And he the one who tell Simon the aftermath of ignoring Humdrum. Baz is the one who - finally - triggers Simon to act. He also the first character who sees Simon (and Humdrum) and accepts them as whole. And still loves him.
Simon - he doesn’t talk about nature of Humdrum a lot. He hardly bothers to describe fighting scenes in a past. But he clearly indicates how he avoids Humdrum, thinking about Humdrum, thinking about time he will need to deal with it. He doesn’t want to have any touch points with it, even when he’s confronted about it. He shouts at Humdrum when he sees his own face on him, but he never thinks that Humdrum is him. Because it’s all painful. Humdrum - is pain he released and locked himself out of it. That is why he reluctant to deal with Humdrum, though it his life mission. He only do it if he have HAVE TO. And then - he will take the pain/fear/negatives and lock it in Humdrum again (make magic holes bigger) and leave. So he can stop thinking about him again.
And finally, Humdrum. He thinks a lot, he has time for it. And he know exactly who he is. And when Simon is ready, when Simon’s is finally ready to face him by his own will, he tells him who he is:
“It’s the Humdrum,” I say.
“It’s you on the day I found you.” His eyes are wide and soft. “My boy—”
“I’m not him,” the Humdrum says. “I’m not anybody’s boy.”
“You’re my shadow,” I say to the Humdrum. I’m not afraid of him now.
“More like an exit wound,” he says. “Or an exhaust trail—I’ve had loads of time to think about it.”
“The Insidious Humdrum,” the Mage whispers.
“It’s a crap name,” the Humdrum says, bouncing his ball. “Did you come up with it?”
Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”
He is willing to talk about himself and all this scene he is strongly communicating on Simon’s side, but not on Mage’s. He behaves like he is Simon’s ally and they have the same goal. He’s open about his wishes (to evolve, to be like Simon, to be the one with Simon), he is open about what happens if Simon’s continued to follow the Mage’s instructions ( “He’s right. End everything. All of the magic.”).
The scene of dealing with Humdrum doesn’t feel like Humdrum eliminating, but more like becoming one with him, finally accepting what was shoved away, belated debts payment. It is very sad but beautiful scene.
“I’m sorry that all the good stuff happened after I left you.”
“The Humdrum puts his hands over mine and gives me a small nod. His jaw is set, and his eyes are flinty. He looks like a little thug, even now.
I nod back.
I give it all to him.
I let it all go.”
At the end - Humdrum and Simon became one, like it was before Simon first went off and got his magic at 11 year. Now he back to the same state and next book he is dealing with trauma (not the way he should, unfortunately).
Maybe the key of getting powers back is to learn how to live with Humdrum and not ignore him. To accept yourself, to find yourself. Maybe use Humdrum powers too. “Someday dragon. Someday ferocious.”
p.s. The negative power of sucking off magic reminded me about Dementors in HP a bit, in a way, that’s what made me think about Humdrum as trauma or depression. At the same time, sometimes, Humdrum would show us, that he is still a doppelgänger of Simon’s and have the same thoughts - like his phrase about “it’s it better than fighting” about Baz is quite the same as Simon’s.
#humdrum#carry on#simon snow#baz pitch#the mage#penny bunce#penelope bunce#the insidious humdrum#wayward son#my texts#carry on meta#simon snow meta#humdrum meta
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Walking in a winter wonderland
Joe Mazzello x Reader
Author’s note : Hi my beauties. The sweet @acdeaky came up with a super idea of a december writing challenge. I really love this idea and I got into writing for this special occasion. This is day 5, filling the prompt ‘Winter weekend away’. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback. Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes….
Warnings : A lil sexual innuendo, nothing too bad
Summary : Wishing to have a winter weekend away with Joe....
Words count : 1,860 words
Permanent tag list : @anotheronebitesthedick @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @roger-taylors-car @orionis8689 @theadorabletia @queenlover05
Challenge masterlist
It was now a deal between Joe and you. At least once every quarter, the two of you would go away on a romantic date, trying your best for this to be at least a weekend. In fact, it was as if the two of you had a special and dedicated moment for every season.
You sweetly thought about the three previous ones the two of you had enjoyed. In spring, you had agreed for a mere but very nice escape in a natural park, and it had even included a picnic on an old fashioned tablecloth and a wooden basket full of delicious food. In summer, you had tried to avoid crowded places like beaches or lakes and ended up in a very cosy and quiet cabin in the mountains, which had also prevented you from being too hot during this period. In autumn, you had been stunned by the wonders of the forest, taking long walks between the trees, which seemed to have agreed to show their most tremendous colors.
Brushing your teeth before going to bed, you recalled those wonderful moments spent with Joe. Of course, every single moment spent with him was a true blessing, you were truly in love with each other. But those escapes had become a habit and since winter was already there, you thought it was time to organize something.
You joined him in bed and covered your legs with the soft blanket. Joe was lazyly scrolling on his tablet, but smiled when you went to bed as well.
“Joe, do we have any plans for our usual escape for winter?”, you asked him quite straight-forwardly.
“Hum, I don’t think we planned anything at all yet. Let me open my calendar....”, he replied, slightly tapping on the screen of his tablet.
You also took your phone to check your appointments as well. The two of you were always trying your best to spend most of time together, but both of you had many responsibilities.
Joe was mainly filming of course, since he was an actor. But he now was writing scripts as well and produced movies. Promoting the films, whether he had been in front of or behind the camera, would also take a lot of time. It was not to mention the galas and the various ceremonies he was invited to and always made sure to attend.
Your job also required you to travel a lot. You mostly were giving conferences all around the country but also abroad from time to time. As a result, both Joe and you had to get organized to be able to fit both your schedules together.
You came closer to him to look at his screen and he did the same. Shoulder against shoulder, the two of you were scanning the dates to see if there was some kind of common cap in both your calendars to fit a little escape.
Of course, when he was available, you were supposed to be working. And when you were free, he wasn’t. What a shame.
“I can’t believe that....”, you sighed, putting your head on your pillow, slightly pouting. “I was so happy to see this winter escape coming....”, you complained.
“Let me see again....”, Joe replied, kindly taking your phone from your hands. He began to scroll on both screen, thinking. He frowned and sighed as well.
“Well, I guess we could check as many times as possible, there would be no difference. Unless one of us cancels an event or a job appointment, we won’t be able to do it this time....”, he shrugged.
“Cancel something?”, you rolled your eyes. You were aware you were making a lot for just one little escape away with your boyfriend, but you were truly disappointed.
“I know it’s not a good idea, but that’s the only option we’ve got left.”, Joe replied.
He looked at you and smiled. A tiny grin appeared on your lips as well.
“No, we shouldn’t cancel anything. After all, if one of us cancelled or postponed anything, this wouldn’t be fair to the other. Also, it’s not as if our jobs and careers weren’t involved.... We have to be professional and use your fame or my status to have a nice time. This wouldn’t be the good thing to do....”, you concluded.
You sighed again and shrugged. Joe looked at you and nodded. He knew you were a bit disappointed but it was not the end of the world. There would be other occasions to have a nice time together. He put both your phone and his tablet aside and took you closer to him for a tender hug.
The following days passed as if time was trying to win a race against something. Both Joe and you were truly busy and soon enough, a weekend arrived when the two of you had to go.
Joe was invited to a salon where he was supposed to give a speech. As for you, your company had asked you to attend a meeting. All was included of course, from the flight to the hotel reservation, but this time, it was harder for you to go.
Joe and you went to the airport together, even if his flight was a few hours later than yours. Before going to the departure lounge, you cuddled him for several minutes, not willing to let him go. He kissed you and eventually you parted. You turned one last time to see him waving goodbye.
The flight wasn’t too long and you had to admit quite pleasant. The movie that was screening was one you particularly enjoyed and the flight attendants were making sure you had everything you needed to spend a nice flight. The landing appeared a bit chaotic to you but when you eventually got out of the airport, you understood why. It had started to snow.
In the taxi, you sent a message to Joe, letting him know you were on your way to your hotel. Of course, you didn’t expect him to answer straight away since he surely was in his plane. In your hotel room, you quickly unpacked and got ready to attend your first conference of the weekend.
You still were disappointed, but you couldn’t help but appreciate the seminar. You had studied for several years to be able to work in this field and you were truly passionate. What seemed annoying and uninteresting to the others was almost entertaining to you. Soon enough, you forgot about your weekend away with Joe and focused on your work.
Behind focused on taking notes and on the conference for several hours was truly tiring so, at the end of the first session, you quickly escape to your room to rest. You checked your phone as well and smiled when you saw a message from Joe letting you know he was fine as well.
Closing the door behind you, you took your shoes off and untied your bun. After all, in this hotel room, there was no one to judge you and you could even spend the rest of the evening in pyjamas, no one would ever know. You ordered food and lazily started to watch TV.
You smiled when you heard a soft knock on the door, as you were now starting to be very hungry. Again, it was not the weekend you had hoped for, but you had decided to treat yourself with comfort food, even if you had to pay for the difference regarding the expenses your company was allowing you.
You checked yourself in the mirror before opening the door, not willing to be indecent to anyone passing by the corridor, including the person bringing your food. Yet, your jaw dropped as you opened the door.
“Surprise....!!!!”, you were told.
Unable to understand what was going on, you remained there, motionless.
“Hello earth? Is anyone there?”, Joe joked.
“Joe? What....?”, you asked as you stepped aside to let him in.
“I’m bringing your food. That’s not the first time, don’t play the housewife who is always serving me at home.’, he pretended to be upset.
“Well, I.... What?”, you frowned at him.
He put the tray on the table and turned to face you, widely smiling.
“Joe? What are you doing here?”, you repeated your question.
“Well, you seem very suspicious. Is there a hidden boyfriend somewhere?”, he put his hands on his hips, as if he was outraged.
“What?”, you said again.
Being the Joe Mazzello you had known for a few years now, you watched him search the whole room : under the bed, in the bathroom, in the closer and even behind the curtains. This little stage play allowed you to relax a bit and to clear your thoughts.
“Well, lucky you, there’s no one.”, he concluded after his search.
You looked at him as sat on the bed, waiting for him to explain what was going on. He laughed and came closer to you.
“In fact, I had planned this for two months.”, he winked at you. “I know how much you like those escapes, but I thought a surprise would even be better.”
“But Joe, I still have to attend two conferences tomorrow.”, you reminded him.
“That’s what you think....”, he replied. “In fact, the seminar you’ve attended today was the only one of the weekend. I agreed with your boss and he made sure to make it all up for you to be here during the weekend.”
“Wait a minute....”, you started to understand.
“That’s right, Mrs Y/L/N. This is our winter weekend away. And it’s even snowing. It wasn’t planned, but I guess it adds the magical touch it had to have.”, Joe happily affirmed.
“Oh my god.... Oh my god, Joe you have no idea of how much I love you right now....”, you told him, taking him in your arms.
“Show me....”, he teased you, whispering.
You rolled your eyes and replied : “Later maybe. First I wanna eat.... And you surely have planned everything.”
Joe nodded and explained what the weekend would consist of. He had planned a romantic walk in the nearby park. There was also room for a couple's massage and the hotel spa was reserved for the two of you only. Since it was still snowing, Joe proposed to build a snowman and of course it ended in a snowball fight, none of you ready to surrender. You eventually collapsed in the snow, making angels with your arms and legs.
Once back in the hotel, Joe ordered hot chocolate with tons of marshmallows, just to make sure you wouldn’t get cold after this epic battle in the hotel park.
You looked at him with a smile as he was playing with his tea spoon, forcing the marshmallows to dive into his cup.
Joe knew how important those little escapes were for you and had made sure to surprise you. Your happiness was his only matter, and you thanked any Gods that could exist for having him in your life.
And of course, you were now ready to thank him properly for this winter weekend away, as he had suggested before....
#acdeaky's december writing challenge#day 5 winter weekend away#warriorteam1924 writes#walking in a winter wonderland#joe mazzello#joe mazzello x reader#joe mazzello fanfic#joe mazzello fanfiction#joe mazzello fic#joe mazzello imagine#joe mazzello fiction
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Castle Rock
As always, if the images aren't showing up on Tumblr, I invite you to visit the post at its original location on http://twirlynoodle.com/blog
There are a number of hiking and skiing trails around McMurdo Station. Some, like the Arrival Heights track, one can do alone and without giving notice; others, like the Castle Rock Loop, go far enough from the station and through questionable enough terrain that one has to check out, travel with a partner, and take radios in case of emergency.
I have become a great fan of the country walk in the UK. You dive into a beautiful morning on a promising footpath, refuel at a pub, keep walking all afternoon, maybe a quick half at another pub, then fall into bed all topped up on nature and exercise endorphins. Having been shuttled nearly everywhere in Antarctica via a motor vehicle of some sort, I was desperate to stretch my legs and cover some of Antarctica myself. I wanted to visit Castle Rock anyway, and the trip there and back was about the length of a leisurely country walk back home, so it was a natural thing to do once all my planned trips were over. My coordinator's opposite number is an avid hiker so he and I set out one sunny morning to put some miles on our sturdy boots.
The track is scenic and adventurous without being too arduous, so the Castle Rock Loop is a popular hike for the locals, as you can tell by the well-trammelled path in the photo above. Its full extent loops down to Scott Base and around back to McMurdo, but the shoreline down there didn't hold much interest and I'd done the route between Scott Base and McMurdo loads of times, so we just walked to Castle Rock and back.
It was a beautiful day. Much like the day I went up to Arrival Heights, it was calm, sunny, and hovering around freezing, the sort of conditions I insisted on calling 'picnic weather' long after the joke wore off. We also had an amazing low layer of thin cloud, which I unromantically call 'pond scum clouds' in my head, rather an unfair name as not only are they sometimes iridescent but they create wonderful light effects on the ground beneath them. On this day they were penned against Ross Island and cast their dappled shadows over Windless Bight, thereby showing up the perspective and giving everything the suggestion of being underwater.
Away from Ross Island the sky was clear, and from up here on the spine of the peninsula you could see pretty much everything, including Williams Field, where I'd spent so much time recently:
There's nothing like a pure white background to show you how much pollution our internal combustion engines spew out – that smoke plume is, I believe, from a C-130 which was warming up to take off that day. It's a lot better than coal, but we've got a long way to go yet.
Humans' rudimentary flying machines are not the only thing to have emitted noxious gases into the Antarctic atmosphere. Mt Erebus still puffs away with the occasional mild eruption, but the Hut Point Peninsula is an artefact of a more active volcanic past. Much of the rock is obviously igneous, black or grey and spongy with bubbles, and most of the hills that stand up from the body of the peninsula are old volcanic craters, which spewed that aerated rock in ages past. Castle Rock is similar in origin, but gets its distinctive shape from having been an sub-glacial volcano, rather than a surface cinder cone. It's not exactly a volcanic plug, like the Devil's Tower in Wyoming, where the central chamber of a volcano solidified into a tower of basalt and the softer layers on the outside eroded away. Rather it is the volcano, having melted its way up through thick ice, which held its sides almost vertical while new layers of lava were deposited on top. This stratification, as well as the way the igneous rock has weathered orange-brown, makes it look more like sandstone than basalt to the casual observer, especially one who's spent so much time in the parks of southern Utah.
It feels enormous when you're standing under it – the name 'Castle Rock' is well-deserved – but when compared to other sub-glacial volcanoes (for instance Tuya Butte) it is but a teeny tiny fairy volcano.
This southeast face is the most precipitous; the north side slopes more and there is a climbing trail up it, should one wish to scramble a bit. It was just on the verge of opening for use when we visited, so we didn't climb. We did take as many pictures as we could, staying on marked paths, but before long it was time to turn around and head back again.
We stopped at a small shelter we'd passed on the way up, which you can just see as a little red blob in the photo above. It is officially known as an Apple , but some refer to it as a Tomato, which it more closely resembles if you ask me. It's an emergency shelter, in case you happen to be doing the Castle Rock Loop when a blizzard blows up, and it is actually rather cosy inside.
Further along the trail, the familiar landmarks of McMurdo rose into view.
That's Observation Hill on the left, and Arrival Heights on the right, with the "Golf Ball" under Mt Discovery in the middle.
As you may be able to guess from the above photo, the slope dips more steeply as we approach the base, and because of this it catches the afternoon and evening sun, and gets very icy. We both had good hiking boots but not crampons, so on the way up had tried to climb by the snowier sections. I was looking forward to sliding down on my coat on the return journey but alas it wasn't quite steep or slippery enough for that – the best I could manage was a slow bum-scoot, which was fun but not exactly efficient. However, it got me close to some funny features I'd noticed on the way up.
My guide explained that they form when a rock gets blown onto the slope. Being dark, it absorbs a lot more heat from the sun than the surrounding ice does, and so melts its way down through the ice, and keeps going as long as it the sunlight can reach it. When the ice refreezes to fill the hole, it reorganises its crystalline structure from the chaotic granules left over from when it was snow, to something that reflects the container in which it was formed. You can sometimes see this radial pattern in your ice cube tray – this is exactly the same thing.
We had been walking on ice and snow all day, which made for a surprise when I stepped back onto the familiar gravel of McMurdo. I have walked on a lot of snow in my life but I suppose I always went from frozen water to frozen ground or pavement. I have not, apparently, stepped from ice to fine gravel so dry that the pebbles haven't frozen together, and my first impression on doing so was that I had stepped onto cake. It was a very strange sensation that took some minutes to shake, but I can remember it even now.
It had been a very good thing to stretch my legs, and getting out in the fresh(er) air with a walking partner who could make good conversation but also didn't mind silence did me some good, to process the whirlwind of trips I'd made in such a short time. In that sense, my own walk to Castle Rock was much in keeping with those who made the hike when waiting for the sea ice to freeze over in 1911 – it was somewhere to go that was well away from the madding crowd in the Discovery Hut, where one could have a private conversation or just catch a bit of peace and quiet. On its busier days, the route is well-enough travelled that one stands the risk of encountering as many people out there as anywhere else, but we got a quiet weekday when everyone else was working. Being a bright day in midsummer, my imagination will have to add the richer hues of the dying light of autumn, but I'm glad I got to stand there in person at least.
If you want more detailed, expert analysis of the geology of Castle Rock, this is the PDF for you.
#antarctica#castle rock#travel#hiking#photos#ross island#mcmurdo station#mcmurdo sound#mcmurdo#views
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one year - kylian mbappé and julian draxler fanfic
3|Paparazzi
We had been driving around Paris for thirty minutes, traffic was horrendous. The company wasn't better either. Kylian spent most of his time screaming at somebody on the phone, from the French I could understand, it was a woman. "Everything okay?"
"Bitch," he spat. My eyes widened at his comment, this day just keeps getting better. "Not you, sorry. Fuck. Can we go get something to eat? I'm starving."
I looked at him in silence. I had forgotten the amount of times he had apologised to me, he had quite the temper. Woman troubles probably. Not your issue Molly. "Fine, where do you want to go?"
"Any place they sell food," Kylian laughed. "There is a nice café at the end of this street, turn right for parking. We'll go through the back."
"You embarrassed to be seen with me?" I asked, rolling my eyes. Another laugh left the Frenchman's mouth. "Wouldn't want to ruin your image Mr Superstar!"
"I'd be happy to be seen with you darling," he cooed, I rolled my eyes. Again. "One issue, the paparazzi. Trust me on this, they can be a nightmare."
....
"Well that was the best meal I have had in a long time," I grinned. The café was beautiful, just like everything else in Paris. It was now 11pm, I was ready for bed. Unlike the footballer sat in the passenger seat of my car, he had finally grown a personality. "Home time, I am stuffed."
"Time to go see miss crazy, I hope she has forgiven me or else I'm staying with you tonight. Aren't you a lucky lady," Kylian winked. My god was he a flirt. After hours of trying it on with me, you would have thought he would have got the hint I wasn't interested. He was relentless.
"I'm sure my boyfriend would be happy with that!" I sarcastically laughed, his face dropped. Opps. "I would have mentioned it earlier but I had to listen to your persistent moaning about 'how I really need to fuck Rosalie but she isn't answering my calls'."
I mimicked our conversation from dinner, it was now his turn to roll his eyes. Here he goes with his mood swings, no wonder that poor girl won't speak to him. We were now pulled up outside the entrance to my apartment, I can hear my bed calling. "Merci for the lift and having dinner, see you tomorrow."
"Enjoy your night Kylian."
....
I opened my eyes to the bright Paris sun shining into my bedroom, I checked my phone and saw I had a lot of notifications. I was alerted when I saw eleven missed calls and four text messages from Adam. Bollocks, I forgot to ring him. Eugh. I scrolled down and checked his messages.
Adam <3: call me.
Adam <3: you better have a good explanation.
Adam <3: call me now.
Adam <3: assuming you're asleep, call me when you get this.
What was his issue? Was he really that angry that I hadn't called him? Luckily his caller ID appeared on my phone. I eagerly answered it. I wanted to hear his voice, I missed it.
A: Finally, where have you been? I thought you were going to call me when you landed.
M: I'm so sorry, I had to go straight to work. I had the most hectic day. I didn't get home until late and I was tired.
A: Just work yeah? So, I'm guessing your job now involves you going out for dinner with the players. Don't lie to me Moll.
M: What are you going on about? I went for food with one player, just friends that was it. How did you even know about that? I wasn't hiding it from you, it was a meaningless dinner. He's sleeping with somebody who lives around the corner anyway.
A: Your all over the news Molly!! Some paparazzi caught you, Mbappe strikes gold with a new girl. WOW.
I angrily scrolled through the news article Adam sent me. It was bullshit. I was more annoyed that he didn't believe me.
....
Closer
Is love in the air for PSG star forward, Kylian Mbappé? He was spotted leaving Café de Flore with a brunette bombshell.
The pair were seen exiting the small café through a back entrance. Onlookers say the pair looked very cosy together. Could romance happen for the world cup winner?
Let us know your thoughts.
....
Just great, I had been in Paris just over twenty-four hours and my relationship was already suffering. I had to calm myself down before I started speaking again.
M: Honestly Adam, it isn't what it looks like. I'm sorry, I know I should have called. Things did get chaotic yesterday. Kylian asked me for a lift as his driver wasn't available, he was in such a stroppy mood so we ended up going for something to eat. He did warn me about paparazzi but I didn't think there would actually be any. I'm so sorry, I should have called.
A: You should have but I'm sorry for shouting baby. It's hard us not being in the same country and then I saw that and you hadn't called me, it set me off. I love you. Anyway, how was your first day?
M: It was really good thank you. I have a great team, it's a lot bigger than Chelsea. Luckily everybody speaks English, so I haven't had to embarrass myself with my French skills just yet. I need to get ready for work, I'll call you tonight. I love and miss you.
A: Enjoy M, I love you.
....
After that phone call I needed a long shower, mentally noting to not go out in public with a footballer ever again. I scanned through my wardrobe, looking for something to wear, how I wish I could wear a comfy tracksuit. I decided to go for a pair of blue jeans and a cropped white jumper, casual but sophisticated.
I made my way through the canteen until I saw Freddie, as usual the players were watching my every move. YOU PRICKS HAVE ALREADY NEARLY RUINED MY RELATIONSHIP, STOP STARING. I got over to the table and saw a coffee waiting for me, what an angel.
"I think you could use that," Freddie laughed. He eyed my every move as I sat down. "How are you feeling about the article?"
"I think I've spoken about it enough with my boyfriend this morning who, I may add, was not impressed. It was a harmless dinner and they turned it into something, lesson learned," I shrugged. As long as me and Adam were happy, I didn't care about the article or what people thought.
"Day one and you've already got an article about you, nice going Molly! Although, I am quite sad it wasn't with me."
#kylian mbappe#julian draxler#fanfiction#fanfic#football#psg#paris saint germain#Football Fanfiction#imagine#kylian mbappe imagine#julian draxler imagine
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“shh, shh. you were having a nightmare.” + Alec/Seregil <3
Boop Boop I feel like shit so I wrote this, turns into smut at the end
----
He has seen blood before, more than any faie his age should have. But he has seen it, his own and others, staining hands, clothes and blades, its smell familiar to him by now.
But this blood burns.
It feels as though it's his own heart’s blood as it runs down his fisted fingers, in the gaps between them and down his wrists, the pain is so unbearable. The way it seems to scorch his skin, the sickening, too fast throb of agony inside him, the tension in his throat as he screams endlessly, it could be his own life blood leaking out in a slow, implacable stream.
And by Aura, he wishes it was.
But he is whole, though he knows he shouldn’t be, he tried damn hard to change that. Whole but not unbroken. His mind still frantically searches for ways out he knows are hopeless, he can see with his own eyes where the arrows have struck and how deep they’ve sunk, he knows the sharp, cruel slave catchers’ points that are buried deep in the flesh and will shred everything in their path if removed. He knows there is no hope but still his mind searches, only to drive the agony deeper.
Because there is nothing to be done but cling on as if that will do anything to keep a soul in its place, scream and hurt and watch as his love dies in his arms.
And to think the whole time it was meant to be me…
“Seregil?”
Aura, why couldn’t it have been me…
“Seregil? Shh, love, shh, it’s all well, it's just a dream…”
Alec…
“Seregil!”
His eyes snapped open but he wasn’t seeing, his hands moving when he hadn’t asked them to. Old screams were caught in his throat, old tears on his cheeks and his heart was hammering so hard he felt he might vomit. All he saw was that Palmarian plain and Alec’s blood staining it’s grass.
But then a firm hand grabbed his flailing wrist, like taking the collar of a panicking dog and bringing it to heel. And suddenly there was soft skin underneath his fingertips, fine, down like hair and a steady, regular heartbeat that called out to his own.
“Shh,” Alec murmured, his voice gentle and his face an inch from Seregil’s, “Shh, you were having a nightmare. Just a nightmare, nothing more.”
The room they always slept in at Watermead solidified around him, the darkness became the comforting and cosy variety of a candlelit night. It was a feather stuffed mattress underneath him and soft cotton blankets over his legs, the rest of him bare and covered in drying sweat. He smelled treated oak and fresh hay and beeswax, family and home baked into the air.
And Alec was holding his hand, pressing it to his own chest, letting his talímenios feel his heartbeat. His nightshirt was rucked up around their entwined fingers, his hair tousled with sleep though his eyes were wide and awake, full of concern.
“It’s all well,” he murmured, voice raspy, “I’m here and I’m safe. Remember?”
Seregil drew in a shaky breath and nodded, voice trembling as he tried to explain himself, “It just...it only felt so real, I…”
But Alec was already shaking his head over his protestations, seeing nothing that needed forgiveness or explanation. He just pulled him closer, cradling the back of his head, letting the tremors run through him until the tears dried up. After a moment, Seregil found himself clinging to him like his life depended on it, never taking his hand from his chest, needing to feel that steady rhythm.
And then he remembered what day it was.
“Has it gone midnight?” he murmured into Alec’s shoulder.
“I think so,” he heard the smile in his talímenios’ voice and realised he was thinking along the same lines.
“Well,” his voice was still reedy around the edges but the terror of the dream was fading and he was beginning to feel like himself again, his usual crooked smile regrowing, “Happy wedding day, talí.”
Alec laughed gently, still keeping his voice low so as not to wake the sleeping house around them, though it may be too little too late after last night. And every night before, of the weeks they’d been staying here. Being betrothed had seemed to sparked some fire between Seregil’s legs that Alec was more than happy to indulge.
In just a few hours the sun would come up, warming the fields around the humble country manor house, illuminating the clearing that had been set up for their ceremony, the flower arch that Illia had been working on for the last few days under which Valerius would call them husbands in a patchwork quilt of Dlanan wedding custom and Aurenfaie marriage rites; the hay bales that would serve as seats for their few guests, arranged in neat rows by her brothers under Illia’s strict command and the space cleared for a dance afterwards. It would certainly be a lot less lavish than any party thrown in their Wheel Street house and it would count for nothing under Skalan law but it would mean everything to them.
And as nervous as he was, those few hours still felt like far too long to wait for Alec.
“Maybe we should have slept apart for a night,” Seregil chuckled, though his joking tone was threadbare.
“We’re hardly a traditional couple, talí,” Alec pointed out, leaning back against the pillows so Seregil could rest against his chest, “I can’t believe it would make much difference. And we’d bang heads in the middle of the hallway as we snuck into each other’s beds.”
Seregil gave a thin laugh, “But I wouldn’t have woken you up with the same bad dream I’ve had a hundred times.”
“Well then,” Alec combed his fingers through Seregil’s hair, teasing the knots from it, “I’m glad we’re together so I could be here for you.”
Seregil felt the tears threaten again but they were fresher this time, cleaner. He was glad to see them, glad that he could shed them in front of his talímenios with none of his old shame or need to appear stronger than he was.
“Make love to me?” he asked softly, kissing Alec’s chest where his tears had fallen.
“One last time before you’re stuck with me forever and the passion dies?” Alec teased, grinning as he rose to obey, rolling Seregil onto his back.
“Naturally,” Seregil grinned, letting his legs fall open, “You are only marrying me for my money, after all.”
Alec smirked at their old joke, fuelled by the rumours running through the Noble Quarter at the sight of the ring on Alec’s finger where a blushing bride would wear hers, “And because of the baby.”
“Ah, right. The dark spawn I planted in you with forbidden Aurënen magics. I forgot.”
“Odd thing to forget. What kind of sorcerous father are you?”
And then they were just laughing, kissing each other as their bodies moved to their familiar positions, fitting together like pieces in an exceptionally clever puzzle box, Seregil’s legs falling open and Alec’s hips moving to fill the gap, Seregil’s arms snaking around Alec’s shoulders.
There was still slack in his muscles from the night before, a looseness that meant Alec needed to only wet his fingers slightly from the bottle on the nightstand, a few quick thrusts and he judged his talímenios ready.
Seregil moaned as he moved into him, staying achingly slow so he’d feel every inch of the stretch. Then it was a teasily prim kiss to his forehead before Alec began to roll his hips, making certain to hit that sweet spot inside him at the apex of every thrust. Seregil rewarded him with trembles and sighs, soft, sweet cries that only drove Alec on, kindling that need inside him.
It was the small details that took root in his mind, as things grew more frantic and wild. How Seregil’s dark hair spread across the white of the pillow, looking almost black. How his pupils inched wider and wider, more blown out with lust until he seemed almost otherworldly in his beauty. How his mouth grew more slack, the tension in the muscles of his neck, how his fingers scrabbled at the sheets when he struck those nerves inside him.
It was over all too soon, the sudden release cascading through him, hips jerking, filling Seregil with his heat. That sensation was enough to push Seregil over that same precipice, his cry of Alec’s name high and strangled as he painted his stomach.
Alec sighed, contentedly, sitting back, muscles going slack as the tension left. He smiled down at Seregil with a mix of smugness and tenderness.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“I will when you come here,” Seregil panted, pulling him close, kissing at him with a tired messiness that only made Alec giggle.
“Here, I’ve got you,” he grinned, returning to more or less the positions they’d occupied before they made love. He wasn’t intending to sleep again.
Seregil couldn’t have felt further from the terror of his nightmare. That pain was past and couldn’t hurt him here, anything that wanted to claim his talímenios now wouldn’t find it half so easy, be it human, faie or god. He’d put it into his vows if he had to.
Before he slipped back into a much more restful sleep, Seregil kissed Alec’s skin where his heartbeat was now pounding a much stronger beat, lying so he could feel it against his cheek.
It was it’s gentle, constant rhythm that brought him sweeter dreams.
#nightrunners#alec i amasa#seregil i korit#alec x seregil#angst prompts#smut#stag and otter#please reblog
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Conversations in the Dark
Pairing: Castiel x Reader
Summary: Nothing’s real what happens in the dark. That’s what your mother told you about nightmares. But you’re hunter and you know that nightmares exist in the daylight, too. Your relationship with Cas isn’t always easy. However, in moments of doubt it’s good you have each other. Because that’s all that really matters.
Word Count: 2,496
Warnings: A lot of angst, fluff and some snoring Winchesters
Author’s Note: This fic is based on the new song ‚Conversations in the dark‘ by John Legend. It is a present for the 200 followers celebration. Show it some love. <3
Like always, my tag lists are OPEN!!!
Wanna read more? Have a look here: Masterlist
"So guys, that's it. We're all exhausted and there's no motel the next few miles. Guess, we have to stop here." Dean announced as he drove the Impala off the road and into a parking lot. The gravel crunched under the tires as soon as the car came to a halt and the engine purred until Dean pulled the key out of the ignition hole and ran over his eyes in exhaustion. The radio died down and for a moment there was silence in the car. Sam yawned and tried to fold his long legs comfortably in the passenger seat. Another night he had to spend sitting. Alone at the thought of the back pain he pulled a face. Dean stretched out his legs and leaned back in his seat as best he could. Cas sat with you in the back seat. You were as exhausted as the two brothers and could only keep your eyes open with difficulty. Your head rested on Cas' shoulder for some time. Gently his deep voice reached you.
"Come on, Y/N. You're tired, let's get some sleep." When he said "us", he really meant you, because the angel did not sleep. But since your relationship he had gotten into the habit of spending the nights with you, even if that meant he had to fold up with three other people in a car just to be at your side. You gave him a tired smile when you finally lay on the seats. The bench was not very broad and Cas held you tightly wrapped so you wouldn't slide into the footwell. Soon you had found a more or less comfortable position. Your legs were entangled and his hand rested on your back, while he pressed you against his chest. His chin rested against your forehead and your hands lay on his chest. He smiled at you through the darkness and his stubble scratched your skin. His teeth shone bright in the darkness. From the front seats you could already hear the brothers' steady breathing. They were fast asleep.
Talk
Let's have conversations in the dark
World is sleeping, I'm awake with you
With you
Watch
Movies that we've both already seen
I ain't even looking at the screen, it's true
I got my eyes on you
You sighed contentedly and your gaze slipped out of the window of the Impala. While lying down, you could see the bright stars in the night-black sky. You were so far away from the nearest town that the sky was perfectly clear. Purple, pink and blue blended into a single work of art, interwoven with small white stars.
"Cas. Look! Look at the stars! Aren't they beautiful?" you breathed happily and he could clearly hear the admiration in your voice. You beamed at the sight of the stars. Cas hummed. He had not even looked out the window. His eyes were only on you. How beautiful you looked. How the moon cast a shadow over your face and made your skin shine silvery. How your eyes sparkled in the dark and you bit your lip.
"Hm, right." he muttered, but his gaze never left your face.
And you say that you're not worth it
You get hung up on your flaws
Well, in my eyes you are perfect
As you are
"Have you ever seen anything more beautiful than the night sky? Anything more magical?" you asked as you continued to dreamily look up at the stars.
Cas knew God's creation by heart. He had seen the stars countless times before, he was there when they were created. They were beautiful, but they could not keep up with you. You were the most beautiful thing God had ever created and he was grateful for every day he was allowed to spend at your side. You cast a spell over Cas with your very own magic.
"Nothing is more beautiful than the stars," you whispered into the silence with fascination.
"Yes, you," he replied honestly and his voice rumbled deep in his chest. You looked at the angel and smiled.
"Charmeur." Your fingers gently stroked his cheek before kissing him. Your hand found his and you crossed your fingers while you looked up into the stars together and hung on to your thoughts.
I will never try to change you, change you
I will always want the same you, same you
Swear on everything I pray to
That I won't break your heart
I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely
Keep the secrets that you told me, told me
And your love is all you owe me
And I won't break your heart
He loved your fascination, even for the little things. With such devotion you did the things you loved. Your selflessness. You would die for him or the brothers without hesitation. Your silence. You could sit for hours during a thunderstorm in a rundown hotel room, staring out the window, lost in thought, with his head in your lap and your fingers gently combing through his brown hair, while a pleasant silence reigned and you listened to nature. After a failed hunt you would tell him stories from your childhood until he would lie calmly with you in his arms. Even if that meant you had to make up stories. Castiel loved so many little things about you. How you would always let Dean pick the television channel to avoid a fight. How you always sang or whistled in the shower. How your nose turned up when you bit into a slice of your favorite pizza.
You were perfect. And Castiel loved you for who you were.
"What's your greatest secret, Cas?" you asked, turning your head so your beautiful eyes met him. You looked at him questioningly. Cas didn't have to think long.
"That I love you." And with a smile on his face, he watched you frown at that answer.
"But it's no secret. Dean and Sam know." you muttered, and your eyes looked at him big and innocent. He laughed softly at your amazement.
"That's right. But only I will ever know how much I really love you, because words don't even begin to describe it." The angel gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead. You loved it when Cas was like that. It was a side of Castiel that was reserved for you, that he showed only to you. Only with you was this quiet angel so open and soulful. Only with him did you feel complete.
Suddenly a shooting star was streaming across the dark night sky. You closed your eyes and made a wish.
"What is your greatest wish, sweetheart?" mumbled Cas near your ear and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine. You embarrassingly bit your lip and avoided his gaze.
"I - no, it's silly. It was a stupid wish I shouldn't have made. Forget it." You shook your head and looked ahead at your sleeping brothers as you felt Cas's fingers gently lift your chin and turn it towards him.
"If this is your wish, it can't be stupid, Y/N." His blue eyes searching for yours and you saw the seriousness in them. You swallowed nervously and nodded slightly. You'd never told anybody about your biggest dream. Not even the person you loved most on this earth.
On
Sunday mornings we sleep-in 'til noon
Well, I can sleep forever next to you
Next to you
And we
We got places we both gotta be
But there ain't nothing I would rather do
Then blow off all my plans for you
"I wish the apple pie life for us, Cas. I wish it so much. We could travel the country like normal people and stay in a place we like. We'll look for a little house in a beautiful area where the neighbours have barbecues and celebrate the Fourth of July together. We could make the house cosy and I could grow yellow tea roses in the front garden. Maybe we would have a dog. And a spacious kitchen where we could cook together. Maybe we could plant tomatoes in the garden. And never motel beds again! We'd have our own cozy bedroom. On rainy days we wouldn't even get up, but just listen to the rain pattering against the windows while I'm in your arms. On Sundays, we'd sleep in and I'd make us pancakes." As you talked, Cas closed his eyes and imagined every single scene you described.
How Cas carried you over the threshold of a small house and your eyes sparkled with joy.
How your face and hands were encrusted with dirt, yet you grinned at him broadly.
How you lay in his arms and his gaze followed the raindrops running down the window.
How you stood in his shirt in the kitchen in the morning, making a mess to make pancakes.
There were scenes that put a smile on his face and he felt his
heart longed for this life. It was a life you could never have, but with you at his side he dared to dream. He dared for a moment to give himself to the illusion of a normal life.
When Cas opened his eyes again, he saw other stars fall from the sky. Shooting stars were speeding across the sky. It was a night of the wishes.
And you say that you're not worth it
And get hung up on your flaws
But in my eyes you are perfect
As you are
As you are
If you were honest, you didn't know what you were wishing for. Like so many hunters of the supernatural, you had never led a normal life and had no idea what you were talking about. You noticed that Cas' smile slipped a little when you first made your wish. Of course it was bullshit. That's why you kept your wish to yourself. You swallowed. It was just one of your nonsense, that's all.
It wasn't the first time that you realized that you would never be married or have children. On some days the thought of spending the rest of your life with salt and corpses seemed unbearable. There would never be a normal life for you. Your boyfriend was an angel. A powerful, superhuman being who could end your life with a snap of his fingers if he wanted to. Cas would never be able to live like a human being. He was immortal, you just a human. You would not grow old together. His body would age, but his spirit could not decompose. One day, you would die, and Castiel would be left behind alone. The thought would make your heart contracted in pain. Cas read your mind, and he pulled you closer.
I will never try to change you, change you
I will always want the same you, same you
Swear on everything I pray to
That I won't break your heart
I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely
Keep the secrets that you told me, told me
And your love is all you owe me
And I won't break your heart
"I'm sorry I can't be the one you want me to be. That I can't give you the life you want to live." You looked at him with those big eyes.
"And if you want me to go, I will, Y/N. All you have to do is send me away because I'm not strong enough. But it's selfish to take away your chance at a normal life." His voice trembled.
"Cas, don't you ever say that again, do you hear me?" you said startled.
"But-" You gently put your finger on his lips, and he looked at you insecurely as he fell silent.
"My life is not normal, Castiel. Never has been, never will be. But, Cas, any life is a good life as long as you're by my side. I love you, and I would never want to change anything about you. You are my angel. Literally. Don't let them tell you different." He nodded hesitantly.
"All these things. They mean nothing to me if it means you're not by my side. That we have moments like this." Your hand was on Cas' chest above his heart and you felt the excited pounding beneath. He pressed a kiss against your temple and together you looked up at the stars again.
"I wouldn't trade this moment of lying here with you, philosophizing about life as we contemplate the stars, for anything in the world. You are what matters, Cas. You make my life worth living, Castiel. Don't break my heart," you whispered softly into the darkness of the night, as if the stars could hear your words and carry them out into the world, until the last man knew that you and the angel were one.
When no one seems to notice
And your days, they seem so hard
My darling, you should know this
My love is everywhere you are
"You know I'll always be with you and go with you every step of the way. I will follow you wherever you go. I'll look at the stars with you until the end of time if that's what you want." Suddenly he looked embarrassed and your fingers were combing through his brown hair.
For a moment there was silence between you, while you waited for Cas' next words. From the front seats still sounded faint breathing and Dean murmured softly as he turned.
"I'm happy as long as you are." He finally said. His warm breath brushed across your ear and made you shiver. His deep voice echoing in your mind.
"And I am happy when you are by my side. Until the end of time."
"Until the end of time," the angel repeated, intertwining your fingers over his heart with his.
I will never try to change you, change you
I will always want the same you, same you
Swear on everything I pray to
That I won't break your heart
I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely
Keep the secrets that you told me, told me
And your love is all you owe me
And I won't break your heart
For some time you remained lying there in the silence and enjoyed the closeness of the other. Until dawn you looked at the stars shooting across the sky. You made wishes for the well-being of Cas, Dean and Sam. It was night of the wishes, after all, and tonight everything seemed to be possible. Maybe your wishes would be heard. You watched the sky change from deep black to stormy blue to dreamy purple to soft pink to fiery orange. It was the image of your feelings. The light of the stars faded as a new day began. And it was a good day because Castiel was with you and every day with Castiel was a good day.
Because it had been a silent promise.
I won't break your heart
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#castiel x reader#castiel#castiel x y/n#cas#angel of the lord#castiel appreciation#spn#supernatural#misha collins x reader#misha collins#dean winchester#sam winchester#misha#supernatural fic#supernatural reader insert#supernatural fandom#supernatural cast#spn fanfic series#spnfamily#spn fandom#spn fanfiction
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Not Nineteen Forever (20) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega
a/n: hey hey! thank u so much if u gave a lil note or sent a bit of love my way for ch19. it was really my fav to write so far so i’m so glad it resonated with at least somebody!! there is only one more chapter to this whole fic after this and i’m emosh. after the rollercoaster ride we’ve all been on, i hope u enjoy this fun lil chapter as much as i loved writing it!
please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!
summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.
last chapter: Brooke, Nina, Silky and Vanjie were locked in the library, and Brooke and Vanessa finally talked things out like adults.
this chapter: exams are over, dissertations are submitted, degree classifications are being allocated and the girls are nervously waiting for adult life to hit them like a freight train. what better way to avoid thinking about responsibilities than to go to the beach?
***
The day had started, as most of Scarlet’s days often do, with a message to the group chat.
Well, no, that was a bit of a lie. Scarlet’s day had started with her making breakfast, talking to her Mums over facetime as she ate it, and reassuring them that no, she hadn’t found out her degree classification yet and when she did they’d be the first to know. It was hard beginning each day with her heart in her mouth, frantically checking her phone to see if the website had been updated and then trying to relax when she found out it hadn’t been. Scarlet tried not to think too much about it, post-Uni life that is, but with each passing day it became an unignorable fact that she had to face. Graduation season was a mere month away and Scarlet didn’t want to face it but she had to, because the reality was that Scarlet didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. Not a single clue. Gone were the days of six-year-old Scarlet, who spent the mornings being an actress with a short break at lunchtime to develop her career in the veterinary sector and finishing the day off creating new play-dough recipes for her Michelin-star restaurant. High school had been so good at pushing everyone into a university-shaped mold but now that Scarlet had completed her three years there she felt a little like the aquarium fish in Finding Nemo once they had escaped their glass box: stuck in a plastic bag bubble, thrown out into the vast, unexplored ocean, and simply asking herself now what? Really, what could she do with a Philosophy degree? Everyone asked her the same question when she’d been making her UCAS choices and now here she was asking herself the same thing. She wished she could remember what 18-year-old Scarlet had replied. Her Mums had been surprisingly supportive of the whole endeavour, but then again they had probably been happy to have their pouty, whining teenage daughter out of the house. Funny how times change, Scarlet thought to herself as she squeezed a generous dollop of washing-up liquid onto the sponge and dunked her empty plate into the hot water she’d filled the sink with. Her Mums had just been on the phone encouraging Scarlet to move back home while she decided on what to do next. It was tempting, but the prospect of being back in the country all isolated and away from her friends and Yvie and the exciting busy-ness of the city didn’t exactly fill Scarlet with glee.
Hearing her phone buzz against the counter, Scarlet almost smashed her newly-dried plate in her haste to read the notification just in case it was an email about her classification. It wasn’t. It was, however, a message from the girls. Nina, to be precise.
Kim Kardashian-West: GUYS it’s meant to be the SUNNIEST day today and Monet’s flat are all going to the beach!!! we should all go too!
Scarlet frowned, looking at the decidedly grey sky. It didn’t exactly inspire much hope.
Yvie’s bitch: Are you sure you’re reading the forecast for today? It looks a bit grey outside xxxx
Kim Kardashian-West: Scarlet I’m a primary teacher. A basic knowledge of the days of the week are kind of an entry level requirement
cursed SatNav voice: Am I FUCK going to sit freezing my ass off on the sand watching the rain piss down all around me!!
cursed SatNav voice: If i wanted to get soaked I would just call Brooke xoxo
Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: No.
cursed SatNav voice: Ain’t that right @Brooke Lynn Hytes
Maple Syrup: you know it bby xoxo
Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: Hell. I’m in hell.
Scarlet snorted a laugh. Akeria could well have been joking or deadly serious. Looking up and out of the tiny little window that was positioned beside the sink, Scarlet swore she could see a small ray of sunshine fighting through the clouds. She tilted her head, considering Nina’s offer.
Okay Then: yes i am absolutely down to get blackout day drunk today
Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: Bitch it’s 11am who hurt you
Okay Then: listen this is perhaps the only time of our lives where we have literally no responsibilities at all. i’m getting drunk
Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: I sent off nine masters’ applications yesterday.
Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: No responsibilities my ass
Okay Then: well as huge as it is, i’m sure even it could use a little sun xo
large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: WHY ARE YOU HOES ALL SO SENSIBLE AND GLOOMY? I’M WITH PLASTIQUE LET’S GO GET DRUNK
Maple Syrup: Ooooh now you mention it a fruity cider would go down so well right now
Yvie’s bitch: Yeah go on then, I’m down!! Xxxxxxx
Scarlet’s bitch: Scarlet it’s literally 13 degrees outside you’re insane
Scarlet’s bitch: but admittedly you are also my girlfriend who i love very much
large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: EW
Scarlet’s bitch: so if you’re down i’m down
Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: UGH fine i’ll go if all you idiots are too
Kim Kardashian-West: AAAH you guys this makes me so HAPPY!!!
Kim Kardashian-West: We only need Vanjie for a full house
Maple Syrup: Vanjie if you come I’ll let you suck my dick
cursed SatNav voice: How big is it
Maple Syrup: 2.75 inches when fully erect
Maple Syrup: Invisible to the human eye when flaccid
cursed SatNav voice: Hard pass
Scarlet’s bitch: Jesus Harvey Christ
cursed SatNav voice: But you bitches convinced me so i’m in
It turned out that most of the girls were still in their pyjamas, much like Scarlet, so they were given an hour to shower and make their way there. They were lucky that the city sat on the coast, and although much of the coastline was dedicated to harbours and pebble beaches there was one little beautiful strip of sand that lay about a half-hour bus ride out to the suburbs. Yvie and Brooke were getting a lift from Plastique and so they offered the last seat to Scarlet, but Scarlet didn’t want to take the girls out of their way. Besides, the sun was peeking out a little stronger now, and if it was to fully appear then it would be perfect weather for earphones, a summer playlist, and looking out of a bus window pretending she was in a music video.
Stepping outside of her flat, Scarlet was glad she’d ended up choosing dungaree shorts and a plain white t-shirt. It was definitely warmer than it looked, and she had to sweep her hair up into a ponytail to stop her neck getting too hot. She stopped off at the corner shop for a four-pack of cider (Brooke’s message had made her want some) and then walked over to the bus stop, where she managed to get one after not too long of a wait and sat on the top deck, letting the growing rays of sun fry her through the window. Once she was off the bus, she checked her phone for the meetup point. Nina, Monet and her flatmates were sat on the sand “around 10 metres in front of the chippy. But Monet has no concept of measurement so it’s anyone’s guess, really.”. Scarlet didn’t mind a small walk to find them. The promenade was packed with people all dressed in Summer clothes, the pavement giving off that smell of hot gravel which always reminded Scarlet of hot days and happy memories. The platinum-white sun cast its rays over the deep blue of the sea so that little diamonds sparkled against the waves, all tumbling over each other lazily and every so often giving a satisfying crash which mingled with the sounds of dogs barking and children giving happy cries. Scarlet found the chip shop but couldn’t see the girls amongst the mass of bodies laid out on the golden sand, so she shot Nina a text. As she waited for a reply, Scarlet took a deep breath and was hit with the unmistakable smell of the sea and chippy batter combining at once. She was a Winter person- she preferred frosty mornings and dark twinkly nights and getting cosy with a searing hot coffee and her duvet, but she loved how happy Summer seemed to make everyone, the sense of community that came with a hot, sunny day. Once Nina had given the other landmark of “there’s a guy with an inflatable sofa to our immediate right”, Scarlet managed to find the girls with no trouble and she was soon dashing towards them excitedly and letting out an embarrassingly childish squeal as she reached Nina and crashed into her in a hug.
“Scarlet!” she greeted her cheerfully, much of her face obscured by a huge floppy woven sunhat. Breaking out of the hug, she turned to address Monet’s flatmates. “Guys, you remember Scarlet, right?”
There was a chorus of welcoming noises as the other girls greeted her, some more distractedly than others. Cracker was busy rubbing her arm with a thick streak of white sunblock which seemed to have the same consistency as double cream, Bob was laid out against a bright pink beach towel with a set of huge sunglasses over her eyes, and Monique was trying her best to remove the cork from a bottle of cava. Monet was by Nina’s side, her head resting against her girlfriend’s shoulder as she stretched her legs out and buried her feet in the sand.
“Hey, congrats for finishing uni, Miss Scarlet,” Monet smiled at her, Scarlet smiling back despite the fact she was being reminded of adult life hurtling towards her like a bullet train.
“Thanks! Congrats to you both too. How does it feel to have an actual certified genius for a girlfriend?”
“Like I’m horrifically inferior and will never amount to anything.”
“Shut up!” Nina battered her on the arm, outraged as Monet and Scarlet shared a laugh. Nina had received a mark of 95 on her dissertation, a number that the girls had considered impossible to attain at university, but Nina had managed it. It was quite revolutionary as far as undergrad research went; a study into how well-prepared teachers felt to support transgender children in schools, with recommendations as to how to do just that within its conclusion and a call for councils to give further money and resources to the cause. “Your diss was amazing as well.”
“Yeah, what do you mean that more research into ability groupings in maths isn’t groundbreaking?” Monet rolled her eyes, laughing again as Nina protested.
“Who knew so much effort went into a primary teaching degree? I always thought your dissertation would be to…I don’t know, write a children’s book, or make a picture out of pasta spirals and glitter, or create a nursery rhyme or something,” Cracker piped up, Bob giving a snort beside her. Monet looked ready to defend her degree angrily when Nina sat up straight and fixed Cracker with an intrigued look.
“Oh, a nursery rhyme? Like…there was a young girl named Cracker, who was an incredible slacker. Her degree was dumb, so she tried to make fun, of her friends who decided to smack her.”
Scarlet let out a screech, as did Monique and Bob. Cracker could only burst out laughing and throw her hands up in defeat as Monet grabbed Nina’s face and pressed an emphatic kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek.
“Oh my fucking God, babe, I love you so much,” she laughed, wiping away a tear of mirth from her eye.
“Love you too!” Nina smiled happily, just as Monique finally got the cork out of the bottle with a satisfying, hollow pop.
“Aw, you hoes got champagne on arrival? How fancy.”
The girls turned around at the familiar voice to find Silky, Akeria and Vanjie all making their way towards them from the promenade. Excited again, Scarlet ran to hug them, namely Vanjie who she hadn’t seen since their final exam. They hadn’t spent too much time together but it had been enough time for Vanessa to elaborate on the story she’d told the girls in the group chat of how she, Silky, Brooke and Nina had all somehow been locked in the library overnight. Scarlet knew that had had something to do with the fact that she and Brooke were friends again. She didn’t know whether they’d fucked their frustrations out or actually talked like adults, but whatever they’d done Scarlet was glad about it. Whether or not they were reconnecting with a view to getting back together or not, Vanessa and Brooke were back to flirting on the group chat like high schoolers, and all was back to normal.
“Right, who’s wanting some of this? I’m not sure I got enough for everyone, though,” Monique asked loudly. Scarlet didn’t miss the way Vanessa stayed silent as the other girls clamoured for some fizz. She knew Vanjie had broken things off with Monique, whatever “things” were, and Scarlet somehow didn’t think she was enjoying being on the other side of a breakup much either.
“Did you even bring cups?” Bob asked, sitting up and quirking an eyebrow at her flatmate. Monique groaned.
“Ah, fuck, cups.”
“You absolute idiot sandwich,” Cracker rolled her eyes at her. Her eyes darted quickly to Vanessa before she stood up and grabbed her purse from her backpack. “C’mon. I’ll come to the shops with you and we can get some.”
The two girls walked away as Silky, Akeria and Vanessa all laid out what looked to be a duvet cover that they’d brought with them in lieu of a towel or blanket. Scarlet didn’t even think to question it. She knew it had been Silky’s idea without needing to ask.
“I feel like a dick,” Vanessa jerked a thumb towards Monique’s retreating frame.
“Don’t,” Monet and Bob said in unison, Nina letting out a small laugh.
“Y’all are The Shining levels of creepy,” Akeria frowned, digging out three huge bottles of beer from a shopping bag and giving one to each of her flatmates.
“Well, we’re right! You were friends with benefits, everyone knew that. It’s not Monique’s fault she caught feels but it sure as hell ain’t yours either,” Bob shrugged, ever the blunt but honest friend.
“So what is going on with you and Brooke now?” Monet asked, leaning forward and propping herself up on her elbows. Vanessa fixed her with an unimpressed look.
“Gee Monet, whatever happened to so how’ve you guys been, or how was exams, or literally any other small talk?”
“Yeah, and whatever happened to it’s none of our business?” Nina side-eyed her girlfriend disapprovingly.
“Well, girl! We’ve been in dissertation hell for a month and a half. Shit kinda got boring,” Monet shrugged semi-apologetically. “Anyway Vanjie, Monique’s away and Brooke’s not here yet and I doubt you want to talk about it when either of those two are here in front of you? And I’ve been trying to grill Neens about it but she keeps using lame excuses like we shouldn’t be getting involved and shouldn’t you be thinking about your classroom, so c’mon, bitch, spill.”
Vanessa smiled slightly, gesturing as if it was obvious. “Well, she knows I love her. And she loves me.”
Monet let out an “aaw!” at the same time Akeria let out an “ugh”. Vanjie ignored them both and continued.
“But she hurt me, so I ain’t lettin’ her get back in my good books that easy. Of course I wanna be with her, more than anything else in the world, but we need to get that trust back before I even entertain the idea.”
“So have you…y’know…had any kinky, passionate reunion sex yet?” Monet winked at her. Vanessa looked at her flatmates, a humoured smile playing on her lips.
“Akeria’s threatened to kick me out the flat if I even so much as think about it.”
The girls howled with laughter as Akeria tried to suppress a smile. “She thinks I’m joking.”
“I really don’t,” Vanjie raised her eyebrows at her, Akeria playfully shoving her onto the fluffy sand beside her and causing her to get it all up her side. “God fucking damnit, now I don’t even get to look nice when she arrives.”
“Oh, here she comes now, actually,” Silky said, nonplussed. Vanessa scowled at her.
“Quit playin’.”
Scarlet followed Silky’s gaze. “No, Vanj, she actually is.”
As Vanessa muttered a shit, Scarlet waved excitedly at Plastique, Brooke and Yvie, smiling when the latter pulled a goofy face and waved back. Plastique seemed to be carrying something huge and wooden underneath her arm.
“Lord Jesus, what the hell is she doing,” Silky shook her head as the girls came closer into view. Scarlet jumped up happily to hug her girlfriend, Brooke muttered a soft hey as she sat down next to Vanjie and hugged her, and Plastique, after she’d greeted the others, unfolded a multicoloured striped deckchair.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Scarlet let out a laugh, unsure whether to be impressed or exasperated by Plastique’s levels of extra.
“What?! It’s a sunny day, we’re at the beach, this is literally what deckchairs are for! Have fun getting sand in every possible orifice, losers,” she stuck out her tongue at them as she sat back and gave a happy sigh.
“Ariel not joining us today?” Nina asked.
“Nah, she’s gone home to see her parents. Why the hell you’d want to go home now when you could be dragging out your last month of uni life is totally beyond me, but hey.”
Yvie gave a deep laugh. “Plastique, your family have a townhouse in London, a chalet in Chamonix with membership to a private ski resort, and a literal penthouse in Dubai with an outdoor pool on a balcony. Why the fuck are you here?”
The girls all exploded with laughter, even Plastique conceding with a smile and a self-aware shrug that she was a rich bitch.
“Hey, I’m moving back in after graduation and won’t see you guys for ages, let me enjoy your shitty company.”
“You could fly us all out,” Brooke smiled hopefully, cracking the top off her bottle of cider with her keys.
“Yeah, lemme borrow twenty grand off my Mum real quick,” Plastique snorted sardonically.
Bob reached across to Monique’s cava, giving a small sip. “I’m moving home too. Gotta save money.”
“At least you both know what you’re doing,” Scarlet rolled her eyes, trying not to sound too bitter and accidentally just coming out with the verbal equivalent of black coffee. Luckily, Brooke held out her bottle and nodded emphatically.
“We can’t all have Akeria’s serial-killer levels of ambition or just walk into a job like Monet and Nina.”
“Hey! It’s a probationary year that we could literally fail if we screw up, stop thinking we have things easy,” Nina protested.
“How could you possibly fail being a teacher unless you literally boot a child in the face?” Yvie laughed in disbelief. Seeing Monet and Nina gearing themselves up for a verbal sparring match, she gesticulated wildly. “I’m kidding, ladies, I’m kidding! You work very hard and kids are little shits and you don’t get paid enough. Happy?”
“Very,” Monet rolled her eyes, accepting the cava that Bob held out to her and taking a swig before passing it to Nina.
“What’re you guys doing after uni?” Bob asked, then instantly cringed hearing the groans she got in response. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot that question is basically Satan incarnate.”
“Well, I applied to a bunch of newspapers. But the journalism industry is a shitshow anyway, so fuck knows what I’m doing or if they’ll even accept me,” Silky sighed. Her mood was decidedly flat. It was rare for her to be anything other than high-energy, volume turned all the way up to 100.
“Well, your classification might help!” Bob said comfortingly. Scarlet looked at Silky to gauge her reaction. She didn’t know if she’d been given hers yet, but the girl’s embarrassed face soon gave her an answer.
“Well I got a 2:2, so. Probably not,” she shrugged, Bob trying to backtrack apologetically. Scarlet felt bad for Silky. There was nothing wrong with a 2:2 and a degree was still a degree, but she knew how much Silky believed that despite her grades not being great, she’d still pull it out of the bag in the end, maybe manage one essay that pulled her marks up. Even though the girls were all still proud of her, it was another thing for her to let herself down.
“We’re still proud of you, Silky. You worked fucking hard and you got your degree, and that’s something to celebrate,” Nina smiled affirmingly, holding the cava out for Silky to drink. She smiled gratefully at the girls around her before accepting.
“Thanks, ladies,” she said quietly, before taking a swig. The cava seemed to return Silky back to normal, and she cried out after drinking. “An’ besides! 2:1s are boring anyway. Go hard or go home, bitch, and I’m goin’ the fuck home!”
The girls indulged Silky in a laugh. They sat for a while, chatting easily and passing the bottle of cava around, the lack of cups now not so much of a problem as it had seemed previously.
“Hey, anyone want a paddle?” Brooke asked suddenly. Scarlet gave a snort of outrage.
“You’re insane. That water’s got to be minus five.”
“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun! Vanj?” Brooke asked, her voice hopeful. Vanessa shrugged easily, casting the girl a quick smile and then dragging Akeria and Silky to their feet.
“To be fair, I am getting really warm. Getting my feet cold might be nice,” Nina reasoned out loud. Monet jumped up with her cheerfully. “Yvie, you coming?”
“Nah. Think I’ll stay here with my girl,” Yvie squeezed Scarlet’s hand, Scarlet smiling back at her happily.
“Awww, Yvie! You’re too cute,” Plastique cried sarcastically from her deckchair, the other girls laughing. She was too busy sunbathing to paddle, but Bob decided she’d follow Monet’s lead and join the others in the water. Scarlet laughed as she watched her friends tear down to the sea like children, the white spray flying into the air as they all hit the water at once.
“We’re friends with actual kids,” Yvie laughed, Scarlet nodding in agreement.
“God, we really are,” she smiled affectionately, watching Akeria take a step into the sea then jump back as if it was made of molten lava and not freezing cold water. Just as the girls had left, Scarlet became aware of two sets of footsteps approaching behind them. It was Cracker and Monique, back from the shops with a plastic bag twirling around Monique’s hand.
“Hey,” Scarlet greeted them cheerfully, then added, by way of explanation, “They’ve gone into the sea.”
“Oh, fun!” Cracker beamed. Monique picked up the bottle of cava and rolled her eyes. There was a shot-sized dribble at the bottom.
“You sons of bitches are nothing if not predictable,” she laughed, fishing a brand new bottle out of the plastic bag along with a set of cups. Yvie held her hands out apologetically and Monique shook her head, letting her know all was forgiven. Scarlet looked out to the water again. Bob had Monet on her back and Vanessa was leaping on Brooke’s, Brooke unable to catch her from the amount she was laughing. It looked as if they were about to do some sort of race or fight. Vanessa finally got onto Brooke’s back, her arms looping around her shoulders like a bush baby.
“So. That’s that then,” Monique gave a little sigh as she looked out to sea. Scarlet did a double-take as she looked at her. Her expression was mostly hidden behind her huge mirrored sunglasses, but Scarlet could see the small frown on her face. She knew who her gaze had fallen on. Scarlet felt bad for the girl.
“Hey, don’t take it personally. Vanjie thought you were great, she really did. She told me all the time,” Scarlet said reassuringly, Monique giving her a little smile of gratitude. “You know that way when you’re still hung up on someone you love. That’s all it is.”
Monique rubbed her arms, wrapping them around herself in a hug. “My own damn fault for catchin’ feelings.”
“Happens to the best of us, girl,” Yvie piped up. Cracker smiled at the pair of them gratefully, squeezing Monique’s shoulder supportively.
“We’ve been trying to tell her that.”
Monique laughed suddenly as she saw Silky chasing the girls with a huge, slimy-looking clump of seaweed she’d fished out of the water. The smile remained on her face as her laughter died down and she looked at Scarlet and Yvie inquisitively. “Brooke’s gonna treat her nice, right?”
Scarlet thought about Brooke’s helplessness after her and Akeria’s birthday weekend, her heartbroken confession of love in the toilets of the grubby karaoke bar. She watched how tightly Brooke was holding Vanessa on her back, as if to let go of her would be a crime. Scarlet smiled at Monique. “She will. I know she will.”
Seemingly satisfied, Monique kicked her sandals off and turned to Cracker. “You wanna go paddle?”
“Girl, I thought you’d never ask.”
Scarlet was satisfied staying with Yvie on the sand. They turned to Plastique only to find her napping in her deckchair, her skin beginning to take on an ever-so-slightly pink hue. Deciding to avoid Plastique’s potential wrath if they woke her up, Monique and Cracker dashed down to the ocean to join the other girls. Scarlet sat quietly with Yvie for a moment, taking in the scene of their friends all clowning around in the water.
“You still looking for jobs?” Yvie asked her. Scarlet sighed. She didn’t mind talking about post-uni life with Yvie, didn’t mind being honest about how scared and unsure she was with the person who loved her and she loved back.
“Yeah. It’s hard applying without my classification, though. And, I guess, even harder when you’ve got no idea what the hell you want to do with your life.”
Scarlet gave a self-deprecating laugh which Yvie gently joined in with. Yvie laced her fingers around Scarlet’s and gave her hand a squeeze. “You’ll figure it out, babe. There’s no time pressure on these things.”
“I know. It’s just hard when…hell, you’ve got Monet and Nina about to start their entire careers. I mean they’ll be in charge of a whole class of kids. Akeria knows what she wants to do and she’ll get there. Hell, even if Silky’s classification wasn’t as good as she wanted it, journalism is at least something she wants to go into. And Vanjie’s decided on events management. You know you want to at least do something with criminology,” Scarlet sighed, suddenly feeling so small. “It’s so hard trying to figure out what you want to do with your life when everyone around you seems to know. How the hell are you meant to know yourself?”
“Listen,” Yvie brought her thumb up to stroke Scarlet’s knuckle, calming her instantly by about 80%. “The great thing about your life is that…it’s yours. Nobody else’s. Just yours. Say you decide on a job and you hate it. Do you think you have to stay because the pay’s good and it’s something steady? No! You leave, because you can get another job. You don’t like it? You change. You want to go back to uni to doss about for another year? Do it! There is no rule to life that says you need to live it a certain way. And fuck yes, it’s scary! I’m scared! I don’t know if I’ll like any of the jobs I’m applying for, they could be so different in reality to what they are on paper. But you know I’ll support you whatever you decide.”
Scarlet’s voice was quiet as she watched the waves crash around her friends. “I just don’t want to disappoint my parents.”
“Scarlet, your parents love you unconditionally. And I’ll say it again- it’s your life. Yours. Not theirs. You can do whatever the hell you want to.”
Scarlet nodded, Yvie’s words a small comfort to her in the world that now seemed so big and scary. Yvie’s voice was quieter as she spoke again. “So…you’re going to live back home once all this is over?”
“I guess so. I don’t really want to, but I don’t want to live alone either. And it’ll help me save money, although if I don’t have a job I guess there’s not much money to save,” Scarlet snorted a laugh. She didn’t want to think about any of this, but Yvie was asking her so she gave an honest answer. Scarlet didn’t miss the way her girlfriend fell silent, nodding her head, a sad little frown on her face. She didn’t want to move away from Yvie. She didn’t want to return home. Yvie was her home.
Suddenly there came a splash from the water and Scarlet’s gaze was jolted away from her girlfriend and down to the sea. Silky had somehow fallen into the water and the girls were all howling with mirth as she screeched and tried to splash them all. Scarlet couldn’t help but join in with the laughter as she watched Akeria help fish Silky out of the water, the girl sitting in the wet sand and laughing so loudly that Scarlet could hear it even from farther up the beach. As Scarlet composed herself and her laughter died down, she turned to see Yvie looking at her, a dopey little smile on her face.
“What?” Scarlet laughed, touching her hair self-consciously. Yvie looked down at the sand, then back up to meet her eyes.
“Move in with me. After we graduate.”
Scarlet’s eyes grew suddenly wide in shock. Yvie was still holding her hand and Scarlet’s grip on hers had tightened. “Really?”
Yvie’s face was earnest, and Scarlet could see her gulp as she nodded quickly. She took a little gasp of air before explaining herself. “I mean, we both already basically live together. You’re at mine so often anyway, we know what we’re like to live with. We’ve not spent more than a full week apart since…fuck, I don’t know. I would do long distance for you, Scarlet, but I don’t want to. I want to go to IKEA and build flat pack furniture and make slow cooker casseroles and fucking…pay council tax with you. I hope you don’t…think I’m being too intense. Jesus, we’ve not even been together a year, fuck, sorry, this was a shit idea-”
“Well when you know, you know, right?” Scarlet smiled at her girlfriend, squeezing her hand. Yvie smiled back at her, reassured and happy, and Scarlet could hear the seagulls in the air and the crash of the waves and the laughter of their friends. She wouldn’t have had any other soundtrack to accompany the moment. “Yes. I’m in. Let’s get a flat together. Just the two of us. I don’t know what the fuck I want to do with my life, but I know it’s going to be a lot easier if I’m doing it with you.”
Relieved, Yvie leaned in and met Scarlet’s lips, kissing her once, twice, three times before pulling away and squeezing her hand. They met each other’s eyes and smiled, breathlessly giggling a little. Deciding to move in together didn’t seem to be the huge, relationship-changing milestone that society had hyped it up to be. It made sense to Scarlet: they loved each other, enjoyed the other’s company, they’d practically lived together for the past however-many-months. Okay, they hadn’t really hit any real speed bumps in their relationship really, but Scarlet trusted Yvie and she trusted herself. They were a team, two puzzle pieces that fit together. Whatever the crazy, scary, mixed-up adult world had in store for them after graduation, they would face it together.
Just then, Scarlet’s phone vibrated. She picked it up from its place underneath a carefully-folded corner of her towel. Opening it and reading the email, her heart dropped.
“Oh my God,” she said, her heart thudding uncontrollably.
“What’s the matter?”
“My classification’s through.”
Scarlet’s fingers were shaking and her palms were sweating as she frantically logged onto the uni’s intranet.
“Breathe. Just breathe. It’ll be fine,” Yvie reassured her, but Scarlet could feel her blood racing in her veins. She didn’t want to look. She did want to look. As the page loaded, she squeezed her eyes shut. Nothing had ever seemed so catastrophically life-defining before. The page loaded, Scarlet blinked, then she screamed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Plastique flinch in her deckchair. Yvie’s face was expectant. Scarlet could hardly get the words out.
“A FIRST, I GOT A FUCKING FIRST!” she screeched, Yvie practically tackling her into the sand as she hugged her. Scarlet felt like her heart was about to burst. The three years had all been worth it and she felt like the biggest weight and worry in the world was finally lifted off of her. This was, admittedly, contrasted with the feeling of Plastique piling herself on top of the two girls, screaming excitedly the whole time. Scarlet suddenly batted them off of her, grabbing their hands and tugging them towards the shore.
“I wanna run into the sea! Can we run into the sea and tell the girls?”
Nodding excitedly, the three friends tore towards the coastline screeching like banshees. Scarlet could feel the wind in her hair, the sun beating down on her, and the sand shifting underneath her feet with every step she took.
She had never felt so conscious of her own mortality and yet as if she could live forever all at once.
#rpdr fanfiction#branjie#scyvie#ninex#ortega#not nineteen forever#n19f#college au#university au#s11#lesbian au#brooke lynn hytes#vanessa vanjie mateo#scarlet envy#yvie oddly#nina west#monet x change#silky nutmeg ganache#akeria davenport#plastique tiara#monique heart#bob the drag queen#miz cracker
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