#Before the US time change I had just enough time to get pizza after english and get cozy in the lounge to watch it from Japan

[spectres-fulcrum]

I... Am shocked that I didn't see it coming that Henry and Alex didn't meet at the Olympics in the movie.

I'm watching the Taylor and Nick interviews that were released today and Taylor mentioned in the film they first met at a climate conference and I was like "No Rio?" and I was like "... no duh. Bre, you know from YOI how they[The Olympics] are."

I know from the Yuri on Ice fandom that the Olympics are fiercely protective of their rights in non literature media(logos, mentions, etc). So you had the top male ice skater in the world but they never mentioned if he had been to the Olympics. I think they put him in his country's winter Olympics uniform in one scene to *hint* and that was the most they could do. I think I was even vaguely surprised the book could even mention the Olympics at first.

So yeah I should've known we weren't getting Rio. I wish they kept the meeting at a sporting event, like some World Championship or something. Maybe a F1 GP(that's the racing fan in me, that's literally so unlikely Bre). But they needed a reason to have both Henry and Alex there and I feel like some soccer/football game wouldn't have the same draw for both but a political event would for sure. Idk Probably was a bit easier to film.

So that's the vague reason why Rio was cut out. I know there's better posts on YOI+Olympics but it's hard to find because YOI hit the skating community very hard and there's Olympic level routines to YOI music. YOI was kinda THE thing you had to be there for. It was very surreal

#red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #yoi was such a moment #Before the US time change I had just enough time to get pizza after english and get cozy in the lounge to watch it from Japan #No subs or anything #I remember thinking it was fanservice and fanservice and then fanservice wasn't like this and then holy shit it wasn't fanservice #It was my first semester of uni #good memories

[falloutjuli]

Time to post some Johnny content, since that man has been my brainrot for the past few days since I finished SBR. Its also my first time posting anything for JJBA so Im hella excited to share (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

I hope you too get a kick out of this, I wanted it to be winter themed for the occasion. I apologize for any spelling or grammar erros, english isnt my first language, but I do try my best. 

Without further ado, Johnny x Reader - Warm me up

Johnny and you share your sleeping bag to stay warm together

__________________________________________________

"Holy shit it's cold." You moaned, as you were sure your fingers were frozen by now despite the gloves.

"Agreed. We better soon make a fire and take a break." Gyro agreed and went to look for a nice place to set their camp up. Johnny trotted besides him, looking equally cold. "Would ya mind gathering some firewood?" Gyro asked you, and you agreed, just wanting to get off of your beloved horse and take a break. 

You slid of the saddle, lading with a "oomph" sound in the thick snow. "I see a little cave up there, we set up camp there, yeah?" Gyro said and began making his way. Johnny smiled at you before following his friend.

  Walking was a nice change after having been on horseback all day but after a while, that sucked too, so you were happy once you found a last good piece of wood to use and made your way to the little cave. It wasn't deep at all, it gave just enough cover from the snow and wind. 

Johnny and Gyro had already unpacked their sleeping bags and were seated on them, discussing their plans for the route tomorrow. When the Italian spotted you with the wood under your arms, he smiled. 

"Finally! We're freezing over here!" "You could have helped, then I would have been faster." You rolled your eyes and Gyro laughed and got up to start the fire once you dumped the wood on the floor. Then you unhooked your own bag from h/n and set it up next to Johnny. 

Finally you were able to rest. Your limps sprawled out and a deep sigh escaped your lips. "You alright there?" Johnny inquired, leaning over to you. "Now I am. Finally some rest ya know." You answered, opening your eyes to look at him. You were surprised that his face was so close to yours as his eyes scanned your face for every little detail. Heat crept up in your face. 

"True, the break is welcomed." With that he withdrew from your personal space. You continued to watch him from the corner of your eye as he pulled out his little nite pad and pen to write something. 

"Hey Gyro!" He called out to your friend who just got the fire started. "Why didn't your teddy eat dessert?" "Tell me Johnny." "He was stuffed." Gyro laughed wholeheartedly, while Johnny chuckled.

 "Holy shit, you two are so unfunny." You groaned and hid your face with your hands. "You just can't appreciate true genius." Gyro retorted and began humming his Pizza song while making his sleeping place more comfortable. His teddy of course finding place too. Whole traveling with the two guys you had heard so many stupid jokes, songs and conversations, but that's also why you liked them so much. 

And while you held both dear in your heart, your heart had the habit of occasionally skipping a beat whenever you and Johnny got close. It was a little crush you had developed over the time, but who could blame you, he was a kind and beautiful young man who had captured your heart and thoughts by storm. Sometimes you wondered if he looked at you with the same admiration and love you held form him. 

"We better get some sleep in tonight, I wanna leave early in the morning ladies!" Gyro declared, earning an eye roll from his companions. "You overslept last time!" Johnny retorted. "I couldn't sleep, because you two kept talking and giggling like little girls the whole night!" Not wanting to use the little energy you had left for arguing with Gyro of all people, you just rolled on your side, pulling the blanket of the sleepingbag up to your nose and shut your eyes shut. "G'dnight guys." You just mumbled and began drifting off, only hearing Gyro and Johnny faintly in the distance.

You awoke hours later, freezing. With sleepy eyes you looked around, spotting the died down fire that only had ember left. Gyro was snoring peacefully, Johnnys back was turned to your but you could savely assume that we was sleeping too. The wind must have picked up again some time ago as it was significantly colder than earlier. 

"Fuckin' shit." You mumbled and climbed out of the bag to drag it a bit further inside, hoping to escape the cold. Just when you had finished moving the bag, you got almost scared to death when a sleepy Johnny asked what you were doing. "Don't scare my like that!" You whisper yelled at him as you sat back down. 

"I moved a bit because I'm freezing over there. The wind picked up." You explained. Johnny also moved out of his bag to your surprise, and went to move next to you again. "It is infact too cold. Can't wait until we get into warmer territory again." He mumbled, as he went back In. You copied what he did and also got comfortable in the bag again. 

Silence lingered in the air as time passed you kept shivering, turning from time to time. "Still too cold?" Johnny asked next to you. "Yeah. I'm not made for this weather." "Me neither." He chuckled. A moment of silence passed before he spoke up again. "You know we... We could share."

"What?" You question, wondering if you had heard and interpreted correctly. Johnny hesitated for a moment before elaborating. "Share a bag, ya know. It'd probably be warmer then..." You blinked a couple of times, wondering if that was a smart idea being that close to Johnny. "Y/N?" 

"Eh sure. I mean, everything is better than freezing my ass off." You tried to overplay your nervousness. "Then make space for me." He said and scooted over to you, waiting for you to let him in. Thanks to the limited space in there, you were pressed up against Johnny once he got all settled in with your help. A nervous laugh escaped your lips as he wrapped his arms around your figure, pressing you face further into his chest. You couldn't see it but Johnny did have a blush on his face just as you did. But it was warm. Very much so even. If it was thanks to cuddling with Johnny or being flustered and embarrassed thanks to cuddling with Johnny you didn't know.

"If you get uncomfortable, do say darlin'." You blinked. How dare he make you even more flustered by calling you that? How rude of him. "No no, I'm all fine." You mumbled against his shirt, unsure where to put you arms. Eventually you too put your arm around him, just above his waist. "Are ya warm enough?" You nodded. "And are you comfortable?" You questioned back. "Yeah, with you I am." Then it was silent again. 

Neither of you knew what to say or do so you just remained in that position until you did feel a little uncomfortable. You moved a little upwards, leveling your faces now, so you didn't have to constantly breath against his shirt. In the dark you could still make out his features thanks to remains of the fire a few feet away and the spare moonlight. Johnny looked pretty, with the slight smile that adored his lips and his tired eyes that looked right back at you. 

"Johnny?" "Yeah?" "Thank you for keeping me warm." "No problem at all, darlin'." And again your heart skipped a beat at the nickname. Your hand began to slowly travel from his waist, over his side and shoulders up to this face where it then rested as you pressed your lips onto his in a hasty kiss. Much to your surprise, after the initial hesitation due to surprise, he did kiss back, moving his hand from your back away, much to your dismay. You however didn't mind it anymore when he used his upper body strength, to flip you onto your back with him on top of you. 

Your kiss grew more passionate, with tongues meeting and dancing around one another, hands roaming the others body. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. The sapphire blue eyes you adored so much were closed as he breathed heavily against your lips. 

"Where did that come from?" Johnny whispered, his hands coming up to cup your face. "I don't know. You just got me wrapped around your finger like that." "I do?" He inquired and you nodded. Your fingers went to to entangle themselves into his blond hair, pushing his hat off. 

"Look at you! Pretty face, beautiful eyes, soft hair, your strong arms, you're just perfect... You're the best price I could have scored in this race." Johnnys heart threatened to burst out of his chest, all thanks to your softly murmured words of praise. Instead of replying with words, he simply pressed his lips against yours again, this time slower and softer. "I always thought about you the same way." He then finally confessed against your lips. You couldn't help but smile at his words, finally having the confirmation, that he did feel the same way about you. 

"You have no idea how glad that makes me." Johnny chuckled and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "As much as I would love to show you just how much I adore you, if we don't sleep we will have Gyro complain all day tomorrow that we're tired. But i promise I will make it up to you sweetheart." The way the nicknames rolled of his tongue with his southern accent just had you weak. Just when you thought you couldn't love him more, he showed you there was still plenty of room. "You better."

Morning came way too fast. Of course it was still pleasant, waking up in Johnny's arms holding you close to him made it already the best morning you ever experienced so far, but knowing you'd probably be all day on horseback again, with little to no breaks had you feel dread already. 

You carefully wiggled yourself out of Johnny's grip to sneak out of the sleeping bag and get yourself some water and a snack from your provisions bag. Just as you had finished a piece of your favorite snack, you heard shuffling behind you. "Morning Y/N." Gyro said, as he was already beginning to gather and pack up his stuff to store it on Valkyrie later. "Mornin'." You replied, watching him a bit.

 "What's Johnny doing in your sleeping bag?" He eventually questions and just by the smile on his lips you knew he already had a story himself as to why. "We were both cold and so we shared to stay warm. Nothing special." You commented offhand, trying to seem nonchalant. "Uh huh." A moment passed before he spoke again.

  "So you just shared for the warmth yeah? Were your lips cold to or why you got Johnny's blue all over them?"

And just then you knew this ride today just got ten times worse because there was no way in hell Gyro wouldn't bring it up at least fifty times.

#johnny joestar #johnny x reader #jjba #steel ball run #johnny joestar x reader #jjba gyro #jjba johnny #x reader

[ask-healthy-light]

The weekend of GalaCon had officially come to an end, and people started to pack up everything they had bought or taken along to head out, but before that, I hurried over to the stage to speak with a voice actress, Flitterkriz, who would portray Poffertje, one of the mascots of PonyCon Holland; and I thanked her for entering the pack of drawings, before I asked her for an autograph and a picture.

After wishing her well and waving goodbye, I met up with my friends and went outside, where a crowd was gathering with their plushies to take a picture, which I tried to join for a while, but I could not find a suitable place, so I stepped away, met up with some friends, and went to the Beergarden; but we realised lots of other folks had gone here as well, so we had to wait before we could order.

Eventually, after playing Liar's Dice for a few rounds, I wished goodbye to Joel and Ember who were sitting nearby, and promised them we would meet again in just a couple of weeks, before we left the Schwaneninsel, and headed into town; and after a little while of walking, and a change of heart, we went into a small pizzeria, adjacent to the hotel of a few folks in the group, for pasta and pizza.

Though I tried to order in German for the group, it was a great relief and big surprise to know the owner could speak English fluently, and he happily took our orders; but sitting there with friends, minutes before this charming little restaurant closed, reminiscing over the Con while we waited for our food, was a special feeling I hold dear to my heart, yet which I struggle to describe properly.

Don't get me wrong, the entire weekend of GalaCon was a genuinely amazing experience, one I am glad to have participated in, and for which I have already decided to volunteer for next year; but being with friends, just having dinner and quietly talking about what we had done, is also wonderful, and it reassures me that even without conventions, we can spend time and make lovely memories together.

We paid for dinner, thanked the restaurant owner for hosting us, and left, where, after wishing the others a good evening before they headed somewhere else, there was some confusion between my friend and I over whither to go to return to our hotels; since we were close to Waiblingen main station, I headed there to reach my hotel, whereas my friend returned to the venue to take the bus from there.

Admittedly, as I headed to my hotel in the dark by myself, I was a bit afraid, especially due to my many bags I was taking along, as well as my messenger bag, on which a few buttons clicked with each step I took; but I safely made it to the hotel, where I greeted a group of folks, playing a game in the foyer as I went to my room, only to find Michael had left already, which was a strange feeling.

Heh… Coincidentally, as I'm writing this, "Fond Memories" by "Single Purpose" starts playing…

Fortunately, Michael had sent me a message via Discord before he left, wherein he kindly thanked me for taking up his offer for sharing a room during GalaCon, for if I had not asked, he admitted that he might have had to cancel the entire trip; and I politely replied when we were at the restaurant, thanking him for offering to be my roommate in the first place, as it was nice to finally meet him!

Had it not been for my surgery in July, we would have met at Pinkie's Chocolate Rain Party, about a month prior to GalaCon, but I know if I had not passed on the weekend at PCRP, I would not have had enough energy for this weekend; and I let him know I would keep an eye out for next year's GalaCon, so I can book a room, and apply as volunteer as well, as quickly possible, as I am very interested!

But back in my hotel room, as I had run out of funds, I spread out everything that I had purchased, and tried to figure out on what I had spent everything, as I was certain I had more funds; but soon after I started to count, I realised the obvious fact that many small amounts quickly add up, while big purchases increased this amount even more, which made me even more aware of everything I had…

Nevertheless, I packed up everything, showered, and went to bed. Only the journey home to go…

(Thanks for reading this bonus! I'll be writing more about GalaCon over the next few days, so keep an eye out if you're interested!)

Part 7/8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

#bonus #mod speaks #events #conventions #galacon

[sirsell]

I'm here

Quick Authors Note: This is third Chapter of my story I'm here.

I'm more active on wattpad so you might want to check that out.

English is not my first language so please feel free to correct me.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Chapter 3

It had been two days since my breakdown in front of Scarlett and ChrisE and apart from the fact that Scarlett wouldn't let me out of her sight, not much changed. ChrisE treated me almost exactly the same as before. But Scarlett got up with me in the mornings to make sure I ate breakfast. She made sure I did my schoolwork, went to bed early enough and so on.

While doing all this she constantly reminded me that my mother's death wasn't my fault and that I should not feel guilty about it.

I mean I was grateful she tried, but in all honesty I've known for a long time that my mother's death was my fault. She was just feeling sorry for me. "Lottie. Love. It's me Scarlett. Are you ready for today?" The happy voice of the blonde, followed by a knock made me look up. I opened the door and gave her a small smile.

"Good morning Baby. Did you sleep alright? You seem tired." I gave her a little nod. 

"Alrighy let's go get breakfast." I nodded again and followed her towards the Common Room. She guided me towards the table and told me to sit down, while she made breakfast. "I can help." I tried but she shook her head and started to make scrambled eggs. 

Ten minutes later she put a plate down in front of me and another one for her. "You do realize that we could get at the buffet, right?" I asked, while pouring us both something to drink. "Yeah I know but most of the food there isn't very nutritious and you don't eat enough, so I want to make sure that what you eat is healthy." "I'm so.." "No, please don't apologize, there's no need and now please eat." "Kay." The eggs were really good, but way too much for me. "I'm sorry I'm full." She sighed but gave me a small nod. "Okay." And after she finished her breakfast we cleaned up together. 

"Come on love, you have to go to hair and makeup." While the hair and makeup artist worked on me, Scarlett tried to make Smalltalk with me. Meaning she tried and gave her short and unspecific answers. 

I followed her to the set were started filming.

"Come Baby, it's time for lunch." Lizzie pulled me with her to the buffet. The rest of the cast  was already there, eating and talking. Apparently Jeremy had something funny cause ChrisH started laughing really loud. He waved over while shipping some tears away as Lizzie and I walked closer. "Hey." Most of them looked at us and smiled or greeted each other. Scarlett, who I hadn't seen since the morning, got up and walked over. She pulled me in a quick hug. "Hey love." She pressed a quick kiss on my hair, while I gave her a smile and leaned into her.

"What do you want to eat?" She asked and I looked over the food before deciding on taking two small pieces of pizza. "That's not very much." I heard Scarlett say next to me, but I just shrugged and followed her back to one of the tables. Liz, Aaron and Robert were already sitting there, eating and talking. So while the grown ups were lost in their conversations, I tried to eat the food. But after finishing the first I was full, my stomach started hurting. I really wasn't used to eating so much in so little time. First the eggs, now the pizza.

"By the way. Lottie. There was a man that wanted to talk to you." Aaron said, making me look up at him. 

"A man?" I asked and I could feel my stomach twisting. I didn't really know a lot of people, especially nobody that would just turn up here. Nobody but my father.

"Yes. End of the forties. Dark hair." He continued, while eating. The dark twisted feeling in my stomach just grew. Of course he would turn up today. I sighed. Today was the five year anniversary of my mother's death and up until now he turned up every year on this day to visit me.

"Oh uhm, probably just my dad." I mumbled and got up, I probably should get over with it quickly. "Everything okay?" I nodded and walked towards the trailors. He probably would wait in my trailor, where we had some privacy. I reached my trailor way too quickly and knocked before I opened the door. 

"Charlotte." My father. He was sitting on a chair next to the small table and looked at me. "Father." I answered, just I closed the door behind me.

Now that we were in a closed room, with almost no ventilation I could smell him. The fast food. Alcohol and sweat. Especially the alcohol.

As I stepped closer I noticed the Vodka bottle on the table. Almost empty. He grabbed my arm and pulled me with him. He was way too fast and made me stumble, but he just pulled me with another jerk, making me hit my head on one of the cabinets. I cried out in pain. Raising my hand to figure out whether I was bleeding or not. "Stop crying or I'll give you a real reason." He pushed me against the door towards the small bedroom.

"It's your fault. If you wouldn't be so incredibly ungrateful and would just listen to your parents for once, my wife would still be alive." A stinging pain on my left cheek told me that he had slapped, and before I knew it I flinched again. This time the pain was in my stomach region. He had punched me in my stomach and I leaned forward to handle the pain, but he lifted me up by my shoulders. 

"You deserve it. You're a murderer you killed her." His voice was getting louder and he punched me again and again. "Please stop." I begged him. "I'm so sorry. Please." The hot, salty tears were running down my face. I was looking directly into his black eyes, while he was laughing directly into my face and just continued to punch me in my stomach. "It's your fault." His breath was smelling just like alcohol and now his face came even closer, but I could see him tearing up and some tears started rolling down."And you look just like her." He cried out. Just like every year. First he was drunk, angry and sad and in the end he was just sad. But through all of his emotions he carried aggression and when he was aggressive he hurt me. I just closed my eyes and waited. Two more punches into my stomach. A furious scream that it was my fault and I was to blame. 

Then his hands started to push my shirt up. "No..no.. please don't." Only one time he had touched me. One year ago, he had been in the same mood as today, sad and angry. He had mumbled something about my mother before he had pushed me down on my bed.

His long, ice cold fingers brought me back to reality and I could feel him push my sweater back up and throw it to the side. 

"You look just like her." His face got closer to mine and it was almost on mine, when somebody knocked on the door.

"Lottie? Are you okay? We heard someone scream." I heard Scarlett's Voice. I closed my eyes, now everything would get worse. Now my new friends would find out what I really deserved. My father pressed his hand on my mouth. "Lottie?" I heard her voice again. The tears were still screaming down my face. "Charlotte? Please open the door." She sounded urgent and worried. "Tell her that everything is alright." My dad told me, before he took his hand away from my mouth. "Everything is alright Scarlett." I mumbled, but my voice was shaking and I know she picked up on it and that I hadn't been able to calm her down. "Charlotte. Open the door or I'll get one of the boys to open it." I couldn't react since my father had silenced me again. My whole body was trembling and apparently she really went to get someone, since only seconds later someone started to pull on the door. "Lottie. I'm coming inside." ChrisE was standing in front of my door. I heard somebody throwing themselves against the door and it started to crack. My father was completely frozen. He didn't move. The fear and anger were written in his face. The door cracked and small splints flew around as the door broke out of its angles. ChrisE stumbled inside, Scarlett right behind him. Both of them looked at me and my dad.

It took them a few seconds in complete shock before they sprung into action, Chris pulled my father away from me, which led to me falling onto the ground.  "Lottie. Baby. Everything will be alright." Scarlett kneeled down next to me. She gently helped me to put the sweater back on, which I was grateful for, since by now everybody had realized that something was really off and came running. 

"It's her fault. She deserves this." My father continued yelling outside. Scarlett just pulled me into her arms and cradled me in her arms. Her hands gently started to brush through my hair. "What happened?" I heard Lizzies voice, but nobody answered her. I just closed my eyes and tried to delete everything that just happened. "It's okay baby. I'm here. You're safe, I promise." Scarlett whispered into my hair. 

"Lottie. Everything is gonna be alright. I called the police. Your father will never hurt you again." ChrisH had kneeled down in front of us and I gave him a small nod. "Come let's get some tea." Scarlett mumbled as she helped me up.

#scarlett johannson × daughter!reader #marvel cast x teen!reader #marvel cast #marvel cast × child!reader

[urwelcomeforthis]

Alex’s tattoo shows up the day after she punches Marcus Hinkle.

He had been picking on Kara in the hallway, dangling her math book above her head, taking advantage of his summer growth spurt.

Kara still doesn’t know what possessed Alex – Marcus Hinkle had been a thorn in her side since she had landed on Earth and started school a year ago, but whatever the reason, today was the day Alex couldn’t take anymore.

Eliza had been furious. Jeremiah had been (not so) silently proud.

Kara didn’t know what she had felt, really. Especially not when she asked Alex why, and the older girl had just shrugged and said “You’re my sister. It’s what we do.”

Up until this point being sisters meant fights in the hallway over the bathroom and ignoring each other at the dinner table.

Apparently, things were changing.

Kara is just waking up when she hears Alex’s hushed “What the hell?”

“What is it?” She asks, groggily sitting up and wiping at the sleep in her eyes.

Her sister is holding her forearm up, frantically scrubbing at a spot right in the middle, her eyes frantic.

“I don’t…. I don’t know! It’s like a tattoo but I didn’t get a tattoo! Fuck, Mom is going to kill me.” Alex sounds panicked as she continues scrubbing at the spot, and Kara feels her heartbeat speed up.

“You had a tattoo just appear on your skin?” Kara asks slowly, her mind suddenly far away on a planet that doesn’t exist anymore, in a culture she had been forced to leave behind.

Alex stops scrubbing and looks at Kara with a piercing gaze. “Yeah. It’s some funny symbol too, like the way you used to write before you learned English. Did you do this to me?”

Alex leaps off the bed and crosses the room in two quick strides, arm held out like an accusation.

Kara shrinks in on herself a little but nods. “I think so. I didn’t know it was possible here, but well, on Krypton when your soul mate reveals themselves, a tattoo linking you appears. I should have one too, somewhere, if you do.”

Alex stops dead in her tracks, her eyes wide. “Soul mates? But we’re sisters! That’s so gross!”

Jumping up from the bed, hands held up in surrender Kara hastens to explain further. “No! Not like that, I promise! Back home, people had different kinds of soul mates. Sometimes it was the romantic kind like you talk about here on Earth, but other times it could just be a compatible soul, someone who was meant to be a part of you.”

Alex still looks wary, if not relieved, as she tentatively holds out her arm. “So, what does this mean? What kind of soul mates are we?”

Stepping forward Kara delicately traces the symbols on Alex’s forearm. “It literally means “sister of the soul.” Je shesur. The symbol after it is unique, the way we would know we were linked. If this had happened on Krypton it would mean we were soul sisters. Not from the same parents but family just the same.”

Alex nods. “And here on Earth? What does it mean here?”

“The same thing. At least that’s what it means to me.” Kara refuses to meet Alex’s eyes, not sure she wants to see what waits for her there.

There’s a long minute of silence after Alex takes her arm back. The clearing of her throat brings Kara’s eyes up from their place on the ground.

“Where’s yours?” Alex asks, eyes burning with curiosity.

Kara shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not on my arms like yours is. It must be hidden. Can you look on my back?”

“Sure.” Alex nods. “Lift up your shirt.”

Kara turns and tugs her shirt up and over her head. It takes a moment, but she hears her sister gasp followed by the feel of fingertips against her left shoulder blade.

“It’s the same as mine.” Alex says reverently, and Kara closes her eyes against the emotion welling up there.

Who would have thought she would get to have this piece of home?

“So, I guess I’m stuck with you. For like, ever, huh?” Alex smiles once Kara has turned back around.

Kara grins back. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Alex shrugs. “Could be worse. But you have to tell Mom about this, because she’ll never believe me, and she is going to be pissed that I have a tattoo.”

“Sure, I can tell Mom.” Kara grins, a piece of her heart settling in place. She hasn’t felt at home on Earth, not really, but at this moment she feels like it isn’t all that bad.

--

The next person to get a tattoo is, interestingly enough, James.

It doesn’t come when they’re dating, or whatever it was that they were doing, no.

It comes after he has revealed himself to be Guardian, and he and Kara have the biggest fight of their friendship.

Kara wakes up the morning after tired, groggy, and more than a little cranky. Its as she’s stripping down to get in the shower that she notices it – the Kryptonese scrawled along the inside of her right bicep.

Throniv Shesur. Protector of the soul.

Kara heaves a deep, deep, sigh and grabs her phone.

She meets James at the DEO, both tentative around each other after the yelling match of the day before.

“So. I woke up with a tattoo. Kryptonese. Any idea what that’s about?” James looks smug, like he’s won some kind of battle with Kara and god, at that moment she wishes they were in the training room and she could just punch him.

“Yeah. I did too. It means “protector of the soul.” She crosses her arms against her chest, desperately trying to hold onto her anger from yesterday but the wide grin on James’ face is making it hard.

“I know. I asked Clark first thing since I figured you’re still pissed at me. He was a little surprised, but he translated it for me.”

“Where’s it at?” Kara asks, still pretending to be upset but truthfully it was hard given the glaring message from home telling her that James was meant to be Guardian. That they were meant to protect each other. Protect others together.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” James says with a waggle of his eyebrows and that’s what finally breaks Kara, a laugh ringing out across the room.

It wasn’t who she expected to have a tattoo, not in this way at least, but if it had to be anyone, she’s glad it’s James.

--

Mon-El doesn’t get a tattoo. Kara wishes she were more disappointed.

--

The last person to get a tattoo is someone Kara had desperately hoped both would and would not get a tattoo.

For a long time, she feared what that tattoo would be, if it were to happen. She feared having to explain it, having to explain herself.

She had checked with Clark a few times, when paranoia would get the better of her.

No, he always told her. Lex did not have a tattoo. They were enemies, yes, but it hadn’t been decided by destiny or fate. It just was.

That mollified Kara because she couldn’t stand it if she and Lena were to become Clark and Lex. She would fight against it, fight against fate to keep it from happening.

And then, well. It kind of happens anyways.

They aren’t enemies, not really. Lena just hates Kara and aims a few Kryptonite cannons at her and tries to mind control the entire planet, but really everyone is allowed a brief lapse of their sensibility, right?

And what matters is she came around, in the end.

It did take time, however, for them to build back to what they once had. It was different now, but in the way that things once broken and fixed usually are.

It was better, if anything.

They were back to shared lunches and dinners, quick breakfasts and coffee breaks. They were back to game nights as partners and movie nights as friends, and the occasional sleepovers as best friends.

Things were finally back to normal, so of course Kara had to go and absolutely, irrevocably, mess it up.

It was Alex’s fault, really.

If she hadn’t said anything, if she hadn’t asked Kara what was up between her and Lena lately, Kara probably never would have stopped to think about it.

She never would have stopped to think about the way her heart sped up when Lena entered a room, or the way her palms got sweaty when they hugged, or the way she just could not stop staring at Lena when she laughed at game nights.

But now she had thought of it and had come to the very scary conclusion that she was in love with her best friend.

Her best friend who didn’t have a tattoo.

She would, after all this time, have a tattoo, the tattoo, if they were meant to be together, right?

Kara mulls it over for weeks. It haunts her. She asks Lena about tattoos, and if she has any.

She learns that yes, in fact Lena does have tattoos and boy howdy one of them is on her lower back and it is seared into the back of her eyes now that she has seen it.

But she doesn’t have any kryptonian tattoos, which is really what Kara was aiming for.

Much like it was Alex’s fault that Kara even realized she was in love, it’s also Alex who reminds Kara of one important detail.

“Well I didn’t get my tattoo until after I punched what’s his face. Maybe you have to tell Lena how you feel and then she’ll get the tattoo.”

Kara feels dumb struck, right there on her own couch, because of course, Alex is right.

The tattoos always come after the person has already revealed themselves.

Then of course comes the true fear: what if she tells Lena and she still doesn’t get a tattoo?

That’s the question she’s mulling over the next night as she and Lena sit on her couch watching some documentary that had been put on Netflix.

Lena looks beautiful, face bare of makeup, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, glasses slipping down her nose.

She’s eating a piece of pizza, a rare treat after a long week of work, and Kara decides that it doesn’t matter if Lena doesn’t get a tattoo.

She’s hopelessly, desperately in love with the woman and she can’t let a tattoo that may or may not come dictate her life.

“I’m in love with you, you know.” Kara blurts out, like this isn’t a life changing moment, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to say. (It is.)

Lena chokes a little on the bite she was swallowing, her hand coming up to her chest as she sets down the slice.

“Excuse me?”

Kara laughs. She’s never felt more free than in this moment. “I’m in love with you. I just thought you should know.”

Lena looks at her, shock written all over her face. “Oh. I guess that’s good.”

“Just good?” Kara nudges Lena’s thigh with her knee.

Lena shakes her head. “I mean it’s more than good, considering I’m in love with you too.”

“Yeah?” Kara could float up to the moon, she thinks.

Lena smiles, nose crinkled. “Yeah.”

It’s the next morning that Lena calls and asks if Kara can stop by. She has this tattoo she didn’t have yesterday, right on her ribcage, and it looks like it’s Kryptonian.

Kara frantically searches her own body, finding the script on her hip, on the left side.

Zhao Shesur. Love of the soul.

It took them five years to get to this point, but Kara knows, this moment was more than worth the wait.

#i took some liberties with kryptonese #here have a drabble #supercorp #lena luthor x kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #just some ideas on different kinds of soul mates and soul mates in general #not fully formed but this is as good as its going to get #i promise this has supercorp

[liptonsbabe]

My dear [S.U]

Sam Uley x Fem! reader!

Summary: “Did you have a hard day? You can complain to me. Did something make you almost cry? It’s alright, look at me. Starting from now, think of three really good things: the warm air, the dazzling weather, and me outside your window.  I told you, you can see brightness only when it gets dark”

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, death, heart dissease and such. English not my mother language so pls let me know if something’s wrong

gif’s not mine

"Sorry to bother you, Chief," you said following the man's moves through your house. Charlie Swan was carrying a reclining chair with ease leaving it in the middle of the living room while you stood at the bottom of the stairs with your little four year old daughter in your arms. Cassie was exhausted. It had been a long plane ride and a bit more road travel, which knocked your little girl out as soon as you set foot in your new home in Forks. It was a long time since you had seen that place but of course you remembered Charlie Swan as kind as he had always been. Even when you were just starting to think about moving back to Forks he was the first to help you get a safe home for you and your daughter. You remembered looking up for Charlie's old phone number hoping it was still the same and when you dialed and heard the man's voice behind the phone you sighed in relief. At last life seemed to be smiling on you after a long time and Charlie was quick to offer to help you if you decided to return to town.

He told you about a house for sale next to his. The owner was elderly and preferred to live with one of her children and earn income from the house near the forest that could be bought by curious tourists so Charlie convinced her to sell you the house and at a lower price than she was originally asking because the house needed some repairs that he could do. So you thought no more about it and packed your things to return to Forks after the horrible years you had lived in Brownsville.

Charlie picked you up at the airport in his police cruiser and avoided turning on the siren cause Cassie was already half asleep in your arms when you got off the plane and he didn't want to disturb her, but Cassie had the strength to stay awake long enough to make him promise that next time he would turn on the siren as they drove around town.

The truth was that Charlie Swan was an angel. He arranged everything so you would have a quick return and even now he was bothering to get all your stuff out of the moving truck so you wouldn't have the worry of doing it later.

"Nonsense, I'm happy to do it. Besides, it's my day off."

"And that's why you shouldn't be doing all this. I know vacations for police officers are non-recurring."

"I'm the chief, I have certain privileges."

"Still."

"Well, I wasn't going to let you do this on your own" he replied, carrying the boxes with your and Cassie's clothes. He set them down on the kitchen island and leaned back against them to rest. You walked over and settling Cassie better in your arms you sat down in one of the chairs Charlie had given you "Billy and Jacob will be here in a little while to get all this settled so you can have your first night here without any problems."

"I still think it's too much. Stop spoiling me like this, Charlie, you even gave me part of your dining room!"

"Ah, it was nothing. Bella and I recently bought a new one and we didn't want to take it to the dump cause it still has some use. The table is made out of good wood and the chairs are freshly upholstered. Look at it, it suits perfectly!"

"That's not the point" you said, glancing sideways at the newly arranged dining room near the kitchen "The point is that you're doing a lot for me and it's not fair."

"Your father would have done the same for Bella if it had been about me" he replied reaching for a bottle of water from the installed cooler. A sudden tension appeared in the room as you both remembered what your father's life was like in Forks "Jackson was my best friend for a long time and when he died...I promised him that I would seek you out and support you as if you were my own and that is precisely what I am doing."

"You wouldn't have if I hadn't left and hadn't abandoned him. He died because of me"

"That's not true."

"He was left alone when I left. He died of grief"

"He died from the heart valve disease he had. Your father suffered it from a young age and even so, you had a right to look for your mother"

"I wish I hadn't" you murmured, cooing to Cassie who was beginning to get annoyed by the noise of your voices "I abandoned my father and didn't find anything worthwhile"

"Well, that doesn't matter anymore, stop tormenting yourself and thinking you killed your father. I was with him. He loved you and he died peacefully, remember him as the good man he was, child."

You sighed. Cassie went back to sleep peacefully

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I know it's not the same, but you have me now and I'd rather die than let you leave again, do you hear me?"

"Easy, I have no intention of doing that" you half smiled "I'm running away from the tracks I left in Brownsville, I have no desire to go back under any circumstances. What I'm worried about is that the tracks won't rub off and show the way to the one I'm hiding from"

Charlie clicked his tongue.

"That should be the least of your problems. I have a gun and I know how to use it. He'll have to deal with that first before he gets to you."

"Thanks, Charlie."

"Although, if Chief Swan is as good at shooting as he is at fishing then you'll have to learn how to handle a gun yourself, honey" a voice appeared from the doorway followed by a young man's laughter.  You looked up meeting the unmistakable face of Billy Black next to his son Jacob. Billy entered your house being pushed by Jacob leaving him next to Charlie as he rolled his eyes "Be a little more modest, buddy."

"There's nothing wrong with bragging once in a while."

"Yeah, but you do it all the time."

"Shut up."

"Make me"

Charlie got up from his spot lunging towards Billy who ina swift movement spun the wheels of his chair avoiding Charlie's attack thus beginning a chase through the house dodging the obstacles of boxes on the floor. Jacob laughed taking Charlie's place in front of you.

"I thought we were coming to help with the move, not to watch them play like preschoolers?"

"Me too. I think Cassie will get along with them."

"Your little girl will beat them up right away"

"Probably."

You giggled quietly avoiding waking Cassie as Charlie and Billy finished their game to go back to the truck and get the last boxes, then you could finally get everything settled at home. Jacob smiled, looking at you

"I'm Jacob. You may not remember me but..."

"Are you kidding? I used to give you the bottle."

"No you didn't."

"Of course i did! My dad used to visit your parents a lot and he used to take me with him. You were a newborn baby and I used to volunteer to help Sarah feed you. You were the worst baby ever. You cried too loudly and squeezed the bottle with your swollen gums. Then you'd throw the milk back and you used to get really messy. Your poop was the smelliest I could remember."

"Don't say that!" he replied, embarrassed "I see you do remember me."

"And Quill and Embry. Tell me, are they still the same old fools?"

"They haven't changed at all."

You laughed.

"Perfect."

"Ok, these are the last boxes" announced Charlie walking into the house carrying with him a small box with Cassie's toys. Billy came in behind with some boxes on his lap "I think now we can get everything organized and finishing in time for you to get some rest."

"I'll clean up the little girl's room" offered Jacob standing up "then I'll fill the closet and set up the bed so you can lay her down, you must be tired from carrying her around for so long. is that okay with you?" he asked you. You nodded

"Yes, thank you Jacob."

"You're welcome. Give me that" The boy took the boxes off his father's legs and picked up Charlie's, all with one arm and with the other he carried the folding base of the bed. You opened your eyes wide 

"Easy, big guy, when did you get so strong?"

"I don't know. It just... showed up" he replied disappearing up the stairs

"It showed up" said Charlie "Ah, I hope shows up something like that to me"

"Don’t hold your breath as that happens" Billy joked.

"I should do something for lunch" you said trying to stand up. You were going to put Cassie down on one of the couches and put some cushions around her, but Charlie won't let you. Billy agreed 

"None of that. We'll order something."

"But..."

"Nothing" interrupted Billy "We'll buy pizza"

"You guys really need to stop doing this" you reproached. Billy picked up his phone

"Ah, sorry, you had to say that earlier, I'm already on the call."

"You guys are unbelievable"

Charlie smiled

"We know. oh I'll get Bella, she hasn't said hello yet" Charlie walked out before you could say anything else and closed the door dismissing the moving truck. Billy smiled complicitly, placed the order, gave the address and left the cell phone on the kitchen bar

"Dinner is served."

"Thank you."

"They had children's menu, so I ordered it for Cassie. I hear their brownies are delicious. Maybe I'll steal it for myself."

"I'll keep it as a secret"

Billy nodded with a smile and as the food arrived you chatted animatedly about what had happened in your absence, he also told you things about your father and all the times they went fishing together before his death. You were enjoying Billy's stories when time began to pass and Charlie didn’t return with Bella as he promised. Jacob was finishing Cassie's room and when the pizza arrived he came downstairs immediately, asking about Charlie's whereabouts.

"He went to get Bella, but he hasn't come back yet."

"That's strange, his house is right next door."

"Maybe something came up for him at the station" Billy shrugged.

You  decided to wait for the Swans to eat, but seeing that they didn't show up Jacob offered to investigate what was going on when suddenly the door opened and a very worried Charlie Swan walked in wiping the sweat from his brow

"Bella’s missing."

"What?"

Jacob suddenly became alert and Billy remained static in his place. You felt a knot in your stomach. While riding in the police cruiser that morning, you had heard something about tourist disappearances and wild creatures killing people in the woods and you feared Bella might be in that kind of danger. You were never close, but you knew her and occasionally went out together to talk or share a movie night. You still hadn't seen her after the years you were away and the least you wanted was for something bad to happen to her.

"Did you talk to any of her friends?"

"She was with them during classes, but they lost track of her on her way here. I'll call the Cullens, maybe..."

"You didn't know?" asked Billy "The Cullens left Forks, Charlie."

"Where did they go?"

"We'll find her" encouraged Jacob "But we have to go out and look for her before dark."

"I'll go with you" you said "I'll take Cassie to her room and..."

"No, no, stay" Charlie asked you "I left a note for Bella at home in case she comes back she’ll know that she has to come here and wait for me. If she does, call me right away, please" you nodded

"I'll call Harry and ask him to join along with the boys" Billy said and wheeled away down the hallway holding the phone to his ear. Charlie and Jacob left and you decided to take Cassie to the room, go down to the kitchen and make some coffee for the Brigadiers and Bella. If she was alone in the woods and the night was catching up with her then she was going to need something hot to get her strength back. 

You hoped with all your heart that she was all right. For her, for Charlie.

.

.

.

Hours passed one after another with no sign of Bella. Your driveway was carpeted with people and police cruisers specially brought by Charlie to search for Bella. The entire town was scoured by officers from the early hours of the night, yet there was no trace of the chief's daughter. You decided to join the search taking the opportunity that Sue Clearwater was playing with Cassie - who was awakened by the ruckus of the patrol cars - asking if it was a good idea to search for her in the woods, but Harry refused.

"It's too dangerous, we don't know what might be among the trees. We can't risk losing any more people."

You were about to object his words when Jacob came up to you putting a hand on your shoulder telling you that he was right and that the forest was something not to be taken lightly. So you gave up, deciding to go back inside and refill the coffee pot when Jacob alerted Charlie that someone had found Bella.

A tall man walked in a straight line toward the Brigadiers where Billy and Harry watched him with restrained relief. He had a stocky frame and Bella unconscious in his arms seemed to weigh no more than a feather. His cropped black hair was messy and his lack of a shirt told you that the icy cold of the city didn't affect him at all

You knew him. His face was very familiar yet strange at the same time. You were back in Forks after a few years, but you knew that no one could change that much in that period of time.

Sam Uley was holding Bella and Charlie took her in his arms as he came out of the stupor and relief of having found his daughter. The Brigadiers sighed in unison and Billy thanked them all. You wanted to do something, to approach Charlie, to ask him if he needed help with Bella, but your eyes were caught in Sam’s. 

They were dark, wild, like the forest behind him. You remembered him perfectly. 

Before you left Forks you two were close friends and came to like each other as something more, but your leaving ended that and what you might have been up to that point.

You tried to look away, but then Sam's huge body began to shake, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground resting his hands on the dirt. Harry Clearwater reacted and approached him asking if he was okay.

"Tired" you heard him whisper causing you to shudder. Harry helped him up, whispered something in his ear and after taking one last look at you he disappeared into the woods. Harry walked back towards you.

"I thought the forest was dangerous"

"For us."

"What do you mean?"

Harry looked at you. Then he looked at his wife with Cassie in her arms standing at the doorway . He smiled.

"You'll find out soon, child"

#sam uley #sam uley imagine #sam uley x reader #wolfpack imagines #wolfpack x reader #Quil Ateara #quileute wolfpack #twilight #twilight saga #twilight cast #jacob black #jacob black imagine #jacob black imagines #jacob black x reader #paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #embry call #embry call x reader #new moon #eclipse #breaking down

[waokevale]

Sanders Sides

-The Snow Queen AU-

[In this ver. The Frost King]

I just had to do this one after I reconnected with the book, yet...I made some major changes (big ones) for the roles to be more interesting and fitting, not just random I suppose.

[ If you haven't read the book, and wish to do so...I suppose it does quite matter for you to understand more but do as you wish from that point.........]

This version of the story is happening in the beginning of The 18th Century, and the characters who play the roles of the ones from the story, or have changed/replaced roles with suposedly similiar Input here are:

• Kai - Remus - (The boy who was the victim of the broken mirror’s fiendish shard.)

• Gerda - Roman (The main protagonist, i suppose)

[In the original story Kai and Gerda are not quite related but are as close as siblings can be, in this one although, of course the twins are, well...the twins.]

  • Instead of the Grandmother we have the father of the boys, that no one, literally no one would guess who plays the role of him.......Patton...!

• After that, there is also Logan, who gets the role of being The Frost King, The Cursed Frost King in fact (and by cursed I mean he literally pissed someone off [or broken their heart...] centuries before and they turned him into an ice dude)

• Speaking of curses and magic, Janus is the young Sorcerer instead of the Elder Sorceress from the canon story. And in this verse, let's say that Sorcerers are Immortal beings like vampires, because I felt like it, and let's say he's like... approximately 957 y.o

Janus in this version does not keep Roman for a while, because he is a really bored selfish prick, but because he is desperate and genuinely still sad from the time he lost his own kid (guess who that might be...If you know my obsession with familial anxceit you already know who I’m talking about, yes..) Virgil. 

[And no, Virgil is not dead as you see in the fanart, he is cute, alive and well.]

• Speaking about him, he is intended to replace the role of the robber girl. But in this version he was stolen from his Pa/Ma one Summer night...

He didn't age at all because...Well, I just said it, Janus is immortal and Vee in this one is actually his biological kid, so Virgil himself is like 53 y.o

• Pryce and Valery are the Prince and the Princess in the upper corner of the picture. (They are meant to be siblings here)

In the other corner are Thomas and Talyn playing the roles of these magical Finn and Lapp people. (I honestly have no idea how else to call them)

And the Crow and the Raindeer are Remy and Emile, because why not.

[To put it simply, like in the canon of TSS no one here is evil (well except the douchebags of Virgil's kidnappers, but they are not canon characters)]

Also before all of that, I wanted to have a little summery and explanation of some of the situations and short stories from this au

-Remus at first is quite a dork (heh) but really he is a pretty friendly and goofy kid, sure he is quite strange in general but he does show love and affection towards his family (well until the shard of The Mirror got stuck in his eye)

-Logan used to be a Prince from the 10th Century who supposedly felt no emotions and was like a stone husk, or a living statue as people used to say, which made his father desperate enough to the point, he literally set up a very great award for anyone who would make him.. feel something in that matter (The emotionlessness was more of an odd and quite unrealistic version of depression, as to be portraid) 

-There was one and only one person who succeded in the act and in which fell head over hills for him in the process actually (before the magic mirror of evils broke into pieces, one of the first ones then fell into his own eyes, destroying all the progress and hurting the one who loved him the most, who was the very exact person who freed him from his deep shelled abyss before.) 

[I’m not going to say who that was, you’ll have to figure it out by yourself, if you even bother, that is of course]

-Patton is a single father (wow)

He actually managed to find a way into the Garden of Enternal Summer when he was a kid and... As I quote myself:

 “ As a faint Memory, The boy saw the most Elegant and quite The most Beatiful man he’d ever seen, yet with a face halfly scarred with scales as if one cursen upon his soul, his outfit too as his posture spoke was vastly gorgeous, painted mainly in golden and black, but what was yet even more so intriguing, was what he held under his arms, ever oh so gently as it were a small and fragile feather. It in fact..quite was at some point, as it was a small child, very young actually from what it seemed...An Infant it was. The man then walked up to him and offered him his hand, one that wasn’t either of his main two, but nonethless he did so and shared one of the warmest of smiles too, no living creature, no beast nor no man would at this point decline and reject his proffer.”

[Yeah...I’m not good with poetry, especially as English despite it all is my second language...I’m even worse with my main one, so eh.]

Buuut he eventually left either way, so..

[Almost no one could find the secret pathway into the Garden of the Enternal Summer as it was well hidden behind the forests, lakes, caves and mountains. So Roman and his family were quite lucky at this point.]

That is all for now I suppose, I have only one question though...

-Roman is a very sweet kid who talks with animals and plants (but let’s make it a bit more realistic here, the plants do not respond in this version and he is confused but still continues to do so) He is although flawed because a character without flaws is like...A Pizza without the Sauce or a Knife without its blade, blunt and boring that is. Yeah...He has anger issues and is quite impatient and stubborn which is interpreted in both good and bad ways.

-Virgil was gifted with a flower magical hair clip (to help him whenever he was in trouble), a violet scarf and a guardian pet Goliath Birdeater Spider shafed like a Purple Pinktoe Tarantula to protect him from any dangers.

Do you think this is an interesting AU?

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #remus sanders #ts remus #virgil sanders #ts deceit #deceit sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #patton sanders #ts patton #janus sanders #ts janus #ts emile #emile picani #ts remy sanders #remy sanders #digital art #sanders sides fanart #the snow queen #sanders sides au #creativitwins

[pearl-blue-musings]

Never Been Kissed: EraserMic

HI WELCOME TO SAD BOI HOURS

so i didn’t technically have an idea for them but yall know how the brain be sometimes....

This will be longer than some of the other ones because SAD and gets a little steamy at the end so I might make a smutty part to get better at writing smut who knows

Warnings: language, suggestive content, 18+ to be safe, also angst whoops

Pairing: EraserMic x fem!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say you were surprised is an understatement. You figured your two best friends wouldn’t be spending their New Years Eve with you in your lonely apartment eating pizza and watching crazy countdown shows.

And yet, here you were. Snuggled in between them with your head on the stoic and quiet dark haired man, laughing at whatever joke the loud blond squawked during a commercial break. To you, this was bliss; just a woman with her two male best friends.

Two best friends who were in love with each other and had been for awhile.

Two best friends that you were also in love with.

But you did as you normally do: squash them down into nothingness, trapping them in a locked box with no means of finding the key.

You had met the duo as a transfer student in your third year at U.A. Since Hizashi was better with English, he was your guide and helper for the first couple of weeks helping you get adjusted to life and catching you up on things you might’ve missed. You can never forget the way his eyes lit up at you upon first glance. His presence was overwhelming but nary in a bad way. He was overwhelmingly sweet and patient with you, despite his enormous personality. 

In time you met Aizawa, his counterpart, the Yin to his Yang. Where Hizashi was large, he was small. Where Aizawa would ponder his thoughts, the blond would blurt them out. They really were perfect together and somehow you had entered into their perfect world.

It was no wonder you had developed feelings and fast.

They welcomed you when no one would. Looked after you when you were stressed, the butt of a joke, or were missing home. They were always there, always by your side.

So why did it hurt so much when you found them together?

You hadn’t meant to arrive at his house early for your study session, but you were in such a good mood! Were you thinking of confessing? Maybe. But that all went away when you turned the corner too early. There they were, your two best friends kissing in the most passionate way imaginable.

And you just watched.

How had you not known? Of course you had known, they were perfect for each other. All you did was complicate the narrative of their life. You knew about the friend they had lost almost a year ago so you understood their close ties even more now. They found solace in each other. And who were you? Some new foreign transfer student stupidly and hopelessly in love with the two guys who gave you attention and the time of day?

You only watched seconds longer for them to break apart and then peck each other on the lips again. You hear Hizashi whisper, “Do you think we should tell her?”

Aizawa sigh’s, “Only if you want to. I know how much you care about her.”

You didn’t dare listen to the rest of their conversation as you turned heel and ran. Tears beginning to cloud your vision as you run back to your place. Once you got your breath and quirk under control, you had sent them both a text saying that something had come up. For now, it was enough for them and for you.

You began to avoid them for a few weeks, forcing yourself to move on and bury your feelings deeper. You had resided to being the third wheel, the one that’s always left out, the black sheep, the odd one out; as if that hadn’t been your life before so it wasn’t anything new. What had shocked you one day as the lunch bell rang, was a pale hand grabbing onto your uniform.

“Hizashi is worried about you.”

You couldn’t meet his gaze.

“I’m worried about you. You’ve been avoiding us.”

You conjure up a quick lie that doesn’t get past the observant student. “Sorry, I’ve been really try to focus more on school and graduation and trying to find my own identity. Having to make up internship time while getting a provisional license has taken up most of my time.”

Aizawa was unconvinced but played along. “I get it. Talk to us when you can, okay?”

You only nod and kept your head down to avoid his knowing gaze. You had walked away just in time for a tear to fall, and for you to run into the other person from the dynamic duo.

“You’re lying to us, princess,” Hizashi says surprisingly low. “What’s wrong?”

Soon you were joined by his partner and had both of them boring into you. Well it was better tell a half truth, not like they needed to know.

“Sorry you guys,” you mumble. “I’ve been really stressed with all i have to do to graduate with you all. I didn’t wanna burden you with that.”

And my unresolved feelings

“Is that all?! You had us worried sick! Don’t keep us out like that okay? Ya dig?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread onto your lips at his usual language. “Yeah,” you giggle, “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll tell you two everything.”

“Speaking of truths,” Aizawa interrupts, “there’s something we’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“You’re dating, I know. I wanted to give you two space so...”

Lime green eyes widen and his jaw dropped. “You knew?! Is it that obvious??”

You full on laughed at that. “It kinda is. You two are perfect for each other.”

Ever since the unveiling of particular truths the three of you were always close. You didn’t always feel like a third wheel to their relationship but all of you were open books to each other. Except about your feelings; that is a secret you are willing to take to your grave.

It was only ten minutes until midnight and the drinks had finally slowed from their free flowing. The three of you enjoyed a couple drinking games of watching the different countdowns and by this point, you were drunk. You had noticed the time and lifted your head from Shouta’s shoulder and began to get up.

“Hey you, why are you moving?”

You had paused and were halfway standing when those almond eyes bore into yours. “Oh, well it’s, it’s almost midnight. Ion wanna get in the way of your kiss so I’ll, I will move.”

The couple exchange a glance, a look on their faces one you had never seen before then back to you. You don’t pick up on it and continue to stand. 

“(Y/n)...it’s a stupid thing it doesn’t-”

“I’ll get the champagne. Sham. Pain. Sham pahgney. Wait there.”

The two men on the floor remain in their same spots. Hizashi trying not to chortle too much at your pronouncing of champagne and Aizawa trying to figure your mood. He never thought anything was awkward between the three of you, but lately it had begun to be. He’d find himself wondering what you were doing or how it would be nice to cuddle you in his sleeping bag. Even Hizashi doesn’t get sleeping bag rights.

And Hizashi can act aloof and unaware, but he’s been having urges for you in a way that he thought he had gotten rid of. He had told Shouta back in U.A. but the first time he saw you he wanted to believe in love at first sight but he was already with him by then. Why? He already loved someone, why did he still feel incomplete? 

As much as they loved you showering them in compliments that they were perfect for each other, the couple had always felt empty. But that feeling would change when you were around. How were they to tell you how they really felt? It should be obvious how much they care and love you, they each cancelled their radio show and patrol for the evening to be with you. Why couldn’t you see?

You had returned with three champagne flutes filled with the golden bubbly drink. You frown a little that they hadn’t moved, so you sat down and handed them their drinks. The only sound that was heard between the trio was the announcement of the final five minutes of the year. You rested your head against the couch and deeply exhaled.

“(Y/n),” Shouta starts, “are you okay?”

“Yeah dove! It looks like you were crying! Talk to us!”

Your head quickly snaps up and you take your empty hand to touch your face. Fuck, you had been crying. When did that happen?

“Oh you two,” you sniffle out while wiping your face. “It’s nothing, nothing! I was remembering my, uh, ex and how we were supposed to kiss at midnight and I guess I got sad. It’s nothing.”

“He wasn’t worth your time, ya dig? You’re beautiful!”

“You can do better. He didn’t treat you right.”

It seems that they both spoke at the same time, making the three of you break into laughter. But once you take in their words, you begin to sober up slightly. Did they really mean it? There’s no way, you need to keep those feelings locked up. Suddenly the flood works were opened.

Hizashi is the first to wrap an arm around you. “(Y/n) princess. Talk to us.”

Lock it up, bury it deeper.

“Like I said, my ex. I was finally going to get my New Years kiss but it’s not gonna happen.”

Throw away the key.

“Dumb right? I’ve never had a New Years kiss and that’s what’s got me so upset.”

They can never know.

And now there’s only 30 seconds left of the year and you’ve already come up with a resolution. Let them go. Let go of your feelings for your two best friends. You had started that resolution earlier in the year with a new boyfriend but he had dumped you at the beginning of December. He claimed that your heart wasn’t in it and that you didn’t love him. You did, you just happened to love two other men too. That’s how it is.

“It’s not dumb, Kitten. You have a right to be sad.”

The timer began to dwindle from 10. You hadn’t realized how your tears were being wiped away from both sides of your face. All three of you had abandoned your drinks in exchange for this moment. Your cheeks were warm but not from the alcohol. You began to smell two distinct scents overcoming you as you began to feel them come closer into your space.

Don’t let them know, and let them go.

“Happy New Year!” 

You had barely heard the announcer say those words when you felt two sets of lips on your cheeks. This is all you had ever wanted but you couldn’t stop crying when they didn’t stop touching and caressing you.

“Please stop,” you whimper out as you feel yourself being pulled in one direction.

You meet lime green irises as he holds your chin. “No, we won’t. Fuck, can’t you see how much we love you?” The blond silences your rebuttal by kissing your lips in a way you had only dreamed of. A different set of hands had rested themselves underneath you sweater and was feeling all of your skin, reaching the front of your bra. 

When you part for air panting, your eyebrows furrow. “I don’t, I don’t understand. Please don’t hurt me anymore. I, I mean... How long have you known?”

You’re turned around to face Shouta and his dilated pupils. “We’ve always known about our feelings for you. We were waiting for you to see how much we love you.” He pecks your lips lightly.

“You love me?”

Their words and actions are incredible to you right now. But you can’t think clearly as Aizawa cups your face to clear it of more tears as he affectionately places his lips on yours, kissing some of your tears and hurt away.

Aizawa nods into your kiss and pulls back, noticing a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his. “We have, for a while now.”

“We realized our feelings for you a year after we had all graduated,” Hizashi intercepts. He takes the two of you up onto the couch and places you in his lap comfortably. “Well, I knew I liked you from the moment I met you! And I think for Shou it was when you didn’t speak to us for a few weeks. But then,” he stops to kiss your cheek and then trail down to the corner of your lips, “after you had gotten hurt as a sidekick and were severely injured,” his hand draws circles on your thigh, “we realized we didn’t know what to do if you weren’t around, ya know?” He finishes with a kiss.

You pull away, “But that was five years ago?” You feel the couch dip behind you as Aizawa takes your free hand and interlocks it with his, giving you comforting rubs. But he also takes your hands closer to his crotch. He’s hard? “You kept dating shitty guys.”

“Yeah! To try to get over you!” You cover your face in your hands as you begin to remember the people you had dated and how they didn’t compare to the two men beside you right now. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to get the feeling that they had some more plans in mind for your new year start, considering one was already hard and the other hadn’t stopped touching you. The touches went from friendly to lust filled in mere seconds.

“Listener, baby girl I gotta know. Why did you really stop talking to us back then?” the blond pinches your thigh and moves his hand closer and closer to your heat making your heart beat race.

“I, hah, I caught you two.”

The pair stops and looks to you.

“Kissing. Before one of our study sessions. I was heartbroken. I overheard part of the conversation but I ran away crying.”

Aizawa catches your neck and you end up meeting his lips again, as another pair trail up and down your neck. “Kitten, if you had staid longer you would have heard us talk about maybe opening it up to you. It was his idea since he caught feels first.”

The man at your neck whines and bites down, eliciting a moan from you as he pouts at his lover. “Don’t put this on me! You wanted to include her too but you were too chicken to admit your feelings.”

“Guys...”

Aizawa runs his hand down to your ass and gives it a tight squeeze. Your lips involuntarily open and he prods his tongue inside your mouth. Your hands find purchase in his shirt, finding some sort of stability. From how this was going, you weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow.

Both men look up to you with love in their eyes and hearts and you smile fondly at them both.

“(Y/n),” Hizashi breathes, “we love you so much.”

“I love you guys too.”

Aizawa grunts and mumbles out,

“Let us show you how much we love you, okay Kitten?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@cupcake-rogue

#my writing #i did the thing #never been kissed #erasermic #erasermic x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #hizashi yamada x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #hizashi yamada #present mic x reader #eraserhead x reader #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #mha x reader #present mic x fem!reader #aizawa x female reader #erasermic x fem!reader

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

My Darling Cat Roommate

lmao this isn’t lambden, as the title may suggest. sorry folks

@stinastar hit me with some feels over and modern roommate au where Geralt just doesn’t know what to do to make Jask feel better and this happened. 

Warnings: We go into some Seasonal Affective Depression stuff here so like be careful with that if it triggers you, jask beats himself up a little, mentioning feeling numb at things that usually bring him joy, i swear in this one. I haven’t changed, dont worry lol

_______________________

Jaskier trudged home from work on Friday, exhausted but relieved he had the next week off. He wolfed down the leftovers Geralt had heated up for him and almost fell asleep on the couch before Geralt hauled him up and walked him into his room, where he promptly fell asleep on top of his duvet in jeans and his shoes. Sometime around when early morning coffee workers were getting up he undressed and snuggled under the warm blankets. 

When he woke to Geralt making a smoothie he was prepared to launch into a full ‘morning people’ rant, only to check his phone and realize it was 2pm. So, maybe he’d needed rest. 

It was still grey enough out that he shrugged and went back to sleep. 

When he woke up again it was dark and the TV was going. He wrapped up in his comforter rather than putting on sweats and shuffled out to the kitchen only because his stomach growled when he tried to roll over.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Geralt called over his shoulder as he floated past with the pasta he’d left in the microwave. 

Jaskier just grunted a small “Thanks,” before he disappeared back into his room. He scrolled through various apps as he ate and rolled back into bed. 

He might have fallen asleep, he might not, but he certainly didn’t get out of bed until his bladder absolutely demanded it on Sunday morning. 

Geralt intercepted him in the hallway before he could make it back to his room, “You feeling okay?”

“Hm? Why?” Jaskier took a moment to respond, staring at Geralt like he’d grown a second head. He knew his hair was probably greasy but he couldn’t look that bad.

“You slept all day yesterday.” Geralt looked like he was diffusing a bomb rather than talk to his roommate, “Did something happen at work?” 

Jaskier just shrugged, “I’m just tired.” And a little numb.

Geralt nodded, “I’m headed to the store. You sure you don’t want me to pick anything up for you?”

“I’m okay, Geralt…” he sighed, slipping past his brick wall of a roommate to slink beneath his blankets once again and make himself as small as possible. 

It was late January and the Seasonal Affective Depression was in full swing. He should have bought that fucking happy light when it was on sale. Should have bought the Vitamin D tablets he saw last week. Should have let Geralt drag him to the gym a little more when he felt the initial dip. Should have blah blah blah. He thought over every little thing he knew would have helped that he just hadn’t done and sighed, pulling his blankets tighter around him. He knew he wasn’t going to do any of it until it got bad enough that his hair would stick to his forehead once he hit this point. Might as well hurry it along so it could be over with. 

Geralt knocked on his door, snapping him out of his mini spiral. He hummed, not even bothering to turn over until he heard the rattle of the doorknob. 

“I know you didn’t want anything, but… uh. I was in the bulk section. Got you the peach things.” Geralt’s voice was lower and softer than usual as he raised the frankly massive bag of peach rings for emphasis before he set them on Jaskier’s desk. 

“Than-” Jaskier coughed when his voice came out raspy and broken, “Thank you.”

Geralt leaned against the doorframe for a moment, a curious frown on his face, “Bake Off is on in an hour if you wanna watch it.”

Jask forced a smile and shrugged, “We’ll see.”

Geralt pursed his lips and nodded, pausing a moment before pushing off the doorframe, “Okay.” 

Jaskier stared at the peach rings for a while after Geralt closed the door. Eventually he compromised with his brain and rolled out of bed onto his knees, waddling a couple of steps until he could reach the rings then launch back to bed. 

Normally he would have almost cried with happiness that Geralt had gotten his favorite treat. He loved it when Geralt did little things for him or thought of him enough to give him something, but he felt rather indifferent as he shoved the twentieth peach ring in his mouth. 

Without warning his door opened just enough for a plate to appear and be gently set on his desk.

Geralt muttered, “For the sugar high…” before his hand disappeared and the door once again shut. 

Jaskier almost smiled when he saw the neatly arranged concentric circles of Totinos Pizza Rolls on the plate. He got to his feet to fetch them this time. 

Around ten that night there was another knock at his door that pulled him from an hour long scroll through tiktok.

“Jask?”

“Yeah?”

Geralt held a big grey bundle in his arms, “Do you- Uh. I thought- weighted blanket?” He held his arms out with a hesitant smile. 

Jaskier sat up, “But don’t you use it to sleep?”

Geralt shrugged, unfolding the bean-filled blanket and laying it over Jaskier’s legs, “I’ll be fine.”

Jaskier stared at the ceiling for a while after he left, confused by Geralt’s suddenly attentive behavior. He would have expected the grouchy man to enjoy the silence that came with his bad days. For how much Geralt complained about his loud music, he certainly wasn’t expecting gifts. 

Geralt left a note in the kitchen Monday morning saying he’d made Jaskier a breakfast sandwich with instructions on how to warm it up without it turning soggy. Jaskier stood in front of the panini press reading and rereading the note as he heated his breakfast like it was in Old English. He ate at the kitchen table this time, annoyed with the crumbs in his bed, and counted up all the little gifts he’d been brought. He could come to only one conclusion.

Geralt was part cat. 

He’d stopped functioning and Geralt kept bringing him mice. 

He smirked and sent him a quick text, “Thanks for the breakfast. 👌 V  good.”

After breakfast, he decided maybe he could change his pajamas, but he stayed tucked under Geralt’s weighted blanket for most of the day. Every now and then Geralt would text him something stupid Eskel or Lambert did, or a meme he found on his break, and every time Jaskier would grin and send back an emoji. Words were out of reach but Geralt frequently only communicated in emojis and one-word sentences. He should get the message.

Jaskier fell asleep around two, really asleep not just the fitful light sleep he’d been having the last couple of days. He was rousted from a dream about a talking panini press by Geralt tripping over a pile of laundry and softly swearing as he tried to right himself without crashing into the bed or Jaskier’s lute. 

“Geralt? Darling, what are you doing?”

Geralt finally caught himself and nearly blinded Jaskier with a smile as he straightened up, “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Jaskier sat up and scratched at his hair, “Yes, but doing what?” 

“Oh! Yeah. Uh. I-” Geralt, still grinning, pointed to a small fern in a bright orange clay pot sitting on his windowsill. 

“You got me a plant?”

Geralt was practically beaming when Jaskier glanced back at him. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a cat?” 

Geralt snorted, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “You’re feeling better?” 

Jaskier tilted his head, “I think so? What makes you say that?”

“You called me ‘Darling’.” 

A hesitant smile crept on Jaskier’s face. There was an echo of the usual all-consuming warmth spreading in his chest that he usually felt when Geralt smiled at him. He may indeed be feeling a bit better. Come to think of it he actually wanted to shower.

“I taped Bake Off. If you’re feeling up for a trek to the couch,” Geralt offered, forced nonchalance dripping from every word. 

Jask nodded, “Let me shower, then we can finish off the peach rings.” 

Geralt’s smile nearly stopped his heart, a sure sign he was nearing the land of the living again, “I got lasagna on the way home too,” he chirped as he jumped up and made his way to the door. 

“Hey, Darling?” It felt a little forced and goofy saying the pet name like that, but Jaskier just couldn’t help himself, “Thank you.”

Geralt’s smile softened, “Anytime.”

#listen yall idk who im projecting on more with this one #but the feels are strong and i yearn #geraskier #geraskier roommates #geraskier roommates au #roommates au #the witcher #the witcher modern au #the witcher roommates au #geralt of rivia #jaskier #seasonal affective disorder #seasonal affective depression #cw SAD #depression #thems some heavy tags for something meant to be fluff #that kinda just hits the nail on the head for the fandom tho yeah? #lol #soft geraskier

[iamthenightcolormeblack]

Impressions of Bride and Prejudice (2004)

I finally watched this movie as it is currently free on YouTube! It's a really interesting "modern-day" adaptation (specifically a Bollywood musical) of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice which takes place in Amritsar, India, London, England and California, USA instead of the English countryside. It stars Aishwarya Rai as Elizabeth Bennet (now Lalita Bakshi) and Martin Henderson as Mr. Darcy (William Darcy).

Names:

Bakshis = Bennets

Jaya Bakshi = Jane Bennet

Lalita Bakshi = Elizabeth Bennet

Maya Bakshi = Mary Bennet

Lakhi Bakshi = Lydia Bennet (Kitty isn't included here)

Kholi Saab = Mr. Collins

Balraj = Bingley

Chandra Lamba = Charlotte Lucas

Kiran = Caroline Bingley

Darcy's mother (Catherine Darcy) = Lady Catherine de Bourgh

The Casting:

Aishwarya Rai as Lalita Bakshi. She's captivating and beautiful as Lalita, with intelligence and wits to match. The film understands why Elizabeth Bennet is one of literature's greatest heroines: she has a lot of self-respect, speaks her mind, and refuses to compromise on her values. What's most important is that she achieves the balance between the two clashing cultures: she cares about her family and respects Indian traditions yet is also a strong individual who keeps her dignity.

Martin Henderson as William Darcy. I don't like that Darcy is an American in this movie because (in general) Americans are usually less reserved than British people, so it takes away a key part of Darcy's character (his repressed emotions). He's much more sympathetic than book Darcy because he seems to be more open-minded towards Indian culture the more he learns about it (unlike book Darcy, who is stubborn and insists that his "good opinion once lost is lost forever"). In the book, Darcy's pride has several characteristics (belief in the correctness of his opinions, belief in his social superiority, bad treatment of others he thinks is beneath him). I don't like how the film simplified his pride into imperialism/ethnocentrism, which he lets go of pretty quickly. Plus his "rudeness" can easily be perceived as discomfort in a new cultural environment because he hasn't been exposed to Indian culture, whereas in the book it seems to be intentional (and Darcy acknowledges to Elizabeth that he was taught to treat others beyond his own social circle meanly). Overall I had rather too much sympathy for him because he's too easy to read; he's experiencing a lot of culture shocks which he isn't prepared for, and his imperialistic beliefs (which come from his mother) don't help. One of the reasons book Darcy is interesting is because he's mysterious; his emotions remain hidden and the only sign of his growing love for Elizabeth is his staring at her. This Darcy is just a typical white American boy who is in love with a woman far superior to him in terms of intellect and cultural awareness.

Nitin Ganatra as Kohli Saab. Mr. Collins is one of my favorite cringe characters ever and never fails to disappoint. In this movie, he's an accountant who lives in the Beverly Hills area in Southern California and is very arrogant because he thinks he's a big shot living close to celebrities in a one-of-a-kind colonial home (when in actuality he lives in a cookie-cutter house in a suburb). He peppers his speech with Western slang to show off how "American" (and thus wealthy) he is, yet still clings to outmoded beliefs that women should be submissive housewives. He represents the very worst of Western culture in that he's materialistic and looks down on Indian culture as beneath him. In his quest for riches he has lost his Indian identity and become greedy.

Notable Scenes:

The first dance. Balraj is happy to have fun and show off his awesome dancing skills. Darcy, meanwhile, observes that the mothers are eyeing Balraj for the marriage market and is worried that his friend may be trapped by gold-diggers. He's clearly uncomfortable and out of his element here, so Kiran helps translate the songs for him. It's interesting seeing Kiran as a translator here because it would explain why she's one of the few people Darcy hangs out with; she's a cultural intermediary here to help him acclimate to a strange new environment.

Darcy snubs Lalita. This part in the book where Darcy insults Elizabeth by proclaiming her "tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me" is significant in forming Elizabeth's hatred of Darcy. Not only is he impolite in refusing to dance with Elizabeth, he also shames her by criticizing her looks. In the movie, Darcy excuses himself from dancing with Lalita by saying that he's busy preparing for a conference (in this version, he's a rich businessman who operates luxury hotels). I wish they had kept the original insult in because without it, Lalita's dislike of Darcy has less merit. While it was impolite of him to not dance, he did use a proper excuse and didn't insult Lalita, so unlike in the book, it doesn't make sense why she would hate him so intensely after that one meeting.

A Marriage Has Come to Town song. In this song-and-dance number, Lalita and Jaya are preparing for the wedding to Balraj. The whole town is excited for the wedding and Lalita wonders if life for a woman is all about getting married to be a mere wife: "It seems they had nothing in their lives before today / and why are they so happy to give a daughter away."

Darcy and Lalita conversation #1: Lalita points out most Amritsar residents can't afford to stay at Darcy's luxury hotels; Darcy says standards are necessary, justifying the high price. Darcy says he finds arranged marriages strange and "backwards," hinting at an affinity with Lalita as they are both "romantics." Lalita, still thinking that Darcy is attempting to insult Indian culture, says that arranged marriages have evolved and may not be so evil as he thinks it is.

Lalita and Darcy "accomplished woman" scene. So they have the part from the book where they have Darcy's unrealistic list of the characteristics of his perfect woman and then it becomes a culture clash. Lalita says Darcy's whole hotel business is imperialism (the tourists visit without appreciating Indian culture and the jobs created only benefit the well-off). Darcy replies: "But I'm not British" ("American exceptionalism" is just another form of imperialism).

Dinner with Kohli Saab. I love watching all the "Dinner with Mr. Collins" scenes from all Pride and Prejudice adaptations because it reveals Collins' great arrogance in assuming himself to be of greater importance than he is, as well as his bad manners. This movie does not disappoint; Kohli Saab literally eats with his fingers, shoving rice into his mouth while talking at the same time. Meanwhile, he spews out misogynistic views of women, stating that he came to India to find a "traditional" wife who will serve and obey him; after all, there is "no life without wife." He notes that the Indian-American girls have "a conceited sort of independence" (not what he actually said in the movie, this is a quote from the book which really fits here) and that some of the Indian-American girls "have turned into the lesbian." Lalita later recalls that watching Kohli Saab eat is like observing "a Jackson Pollock painting."

"No Life Without Wife" song. An accurate reading of Kholi Saab: he's "crude and loud" and came to find a wife by flashing his "green card, new house, and big cash." The song reveals what a hypocrite he is; he's lonely and pathetic because there is "no life without wife" yet he won't respect his wife as his equal. I love the "Kohliwood" fantasy sequence where Lalita pictures herself unhappily serving Kohli as a submissive wife. After the song ends Lalita imagines herself marrying Wickham in the English countryside before it turns out Darcy is the groom; she runs away from him.

The Cobra dance. Maya shows off her dancing skills in an awkward dance. Kholi criticizes Indians for being "unsophisticated" (what an arrogant person) while Darcy, in a change of heart, praises how highly they value family.

Kholi's proposal. I love how he tries to train himself to power walk because it's trendy and before proposing stretches himself clumsily, knocking over a pot (he definitely isn't husband material). Lalita mocks Kholi's obsession with physical health, pointing out that many people are physically healthy but don't exercise their minds.

Visiting Kiran. Kiran is arrogant and takes the Bakshis over to her fancy apartment where the mother tries and fails to show some cultural knowledge. I find it interesting that the movie made Lalita and Kiran foils of each other. They are both intelligent women who are "multicultural" in that they can navigate both Indian and Western culture, but they use their cultural knowledge in different ways. Kiran uses it to belittle others and demonstrate her own superiority, while Lalita uses it as a means of gaining respect for herself and others.

Darcy ends up on the same airplane flight as Lalita. This is a cute scene where he gives the first class seat to Mrs. Bakshi just so he can sit with Lalita in economy class (he's totally in love with her!).

Kohli Saab's epic house tour. Love how he pays great attention to the jet tubs and the closets.

Meeting Darcy's mom. She's totally ethnocentric and possibly racist. The first thing she asks Lalita is "tell me about India" and she expresses her disappointment at Darcy's decision (because of Lalita, it's so obvious he's in love) not to buy the hotel in India because "everybody has their hand on India these days" (brings to mind spheres of influence/colonialism since the mother sees India as a place to make a profit). Then the mother reveals that she really isn't interested in India and only knows about its stereotypes: "well, with yoga, and spices, and...wonderful Eastern things here there's no point in traveling there anymore." Meanwhile Lalita retorts that "people haven't stopped going to Italy because Pizza Hut's around the corner."

The first proposal. Darcy's conflicted feelings for Lalita are effectively summed up (perhaps better than in the book, where he begins well but ends with a long account of the inferiority of Elizabeth's connections): "he loves her in spite of the fact that he tried to forget about her, he still wants to marry her in spite of the fact that his family (specifically his mom) will disapprove." Unfortunately, the emphasis on the social inferiority of Lalita's family is left out; Darcy doesn't say anything else until Lalita claims that he thinks her family is inferior and blames him for separating Jaya and Balraj. I don't like this because it seems like the separation of Jaya and Balraj was the only reason Elizabeth rejected Darcy. Also Elizabeth's admission that she did try to overlook her prejudice of Darcy doesn't make sense, because only after the first proposal does she do so.

Plot Changes. The major plot points are all included but the "order of events" has changed:

Lalita and Darcy become friends and she meets his family before his disastrous first proposal. There's a montage where they are traveling alone together, visiting the Grand Canyon and sharing a moment on the beach. I don't like this change because Darcy's separating Jane and Bingley wasn't the only reason Elizabeth rejected him, it was because she hated him (arrogant, proud, doesn't treat others nicely). By showing early on that Darcy is a good person, Lalita's prejudice against Darcy makes less sense because she now has a glimpse of Darcy's true character which in the book doesn't happen until the Pemberley visit.

Their early friendship disrupts Darcy's character journey because it reduces the significance of the first proposal to his character development. In the book, he doesn't start to reform himself until Elizabeth tells him that he needs to behave in a "more gentleman-like manner."

The first proposal is the consequence of all the miscommunication and false perceptions affecting Elizabeth and Darcy, and it motivates both characters to change. Elizabeth rightly scolds Darcy for being inconsiderate; he did the proposal for the selfish reason of purging his feelings so that he wouldn't have to suffer anymore and assumed that she would say yes. Elizabeth rejects him because of his rude manners and lack of consideration, and his defensiveness (where he portrays himself as the victim of feelings and implies he's such a good boy for wanting to marry her in spite of her horrid family) doesn't help. After realizing the extent to which Elizabeth hates him, Darcy writes The Letter to set things right, and Elizabeth realizes that she is not the best judge of character. Thus, giving us a fuller picture of Darcy's character and letting him charm Lalita before the first proposal reduces the significance of the event to the plot and character development.

Wickham and Lakhi have a connection early on, making Lakhi's attempted elopement inevitable. Right after the failed first proposal, Lakhi runs off with Wickham and Lalita and Darcy find out about it at the same time that Darcy comes to apologize and tell Lalita that Wickham is bad. I love that Wickham was punished really badly; after Darcy fights him, he gets slapped twice, once by Lalita and the second time by Lakhi. Even better is that Lakhi doesn't end up with Wickham.

Themes

The film uses the culture clash between India (Eastern) and Western cultures to examine what makes a good marriage.

Indian culture as presented by the film is more collectivist ("we" over "I"). It also promotes traditional gender roles, with women expected to be "meek and submissive" wives. In contrast, Western culture in the film is more individualistic and aspirational (careers and love are possible). But at its worst it condones exploitation of others for profit and cultural intolerance.

In the book, there are different kinds of "culture clashes:" traditional nobility versus new money (the Bingleys made their fortune in trade and Caroline is hoping to be an accomplished woman to make up for this), country versus city (Darcy offending Mrs. Bennet by claiming that the society is "confined and unvarying") and arranged versus romantic marriages.

The misunderstandings that propel the story (Darcy's dismissing of Elizabeth as "tolerable," him falling in love with her even though she still hates him, her belief in the legitimacy of "first impressions") are emphasized through the culture clash. Many of the conflicts in the film are a result of cultural stereotypes and conflicting beliefs.

Interestingly the film doesn't resolve the question it raises of how best to appreciate India and its culture. Lalita raises a lot of points about not oversimplifying Indian culture to a few stereotypes, but one could argue that India as represented by the film might be stereotypical. With the exception of the resort scenes and Goa beaches (which are tourist traps according to the film), the scenes in India heavily emphasize the "developing country" aspects of India with lots of pastoral scenes (cows crossing the road unharmed, farmland, dirt, shacks, dirty motorcycles fighting each other in traffic). Plus the "culture" as represented by the film's dance sequences seems to be the dominant Hindu culture with lots of elephants and saris and curry. Yes, I know this film is a romantic comedy, but the assertion that India is a complex, diverse country is contradicted by what we are presented. Presenting the rustic aspects of India would explain why the characters want to get out of India and go to the richer Western nations, but it harms the premise of the story that we shouldn't judge based on first impressions because the India scenes seem to confirm a Westerner's stereotypes of India (exotic people living in a primitive land).

Changing views on marriage: In the film, as in the book, we are presented with traditional and modern views on what makes a good marriage. Mr. Collins' marriage represents the traditional view in which marriage is a practical "economic proposition," much like a business deal where the marriage is made for the securing of material wealth and happiness comes last. Lady Catherine and other members of the aristocracy view marriage as a means of producing heirs (and bringing large amounts of money through dowries) to keep the property (source of power and wealth) in the family. The modern view of marriage is a partnership of equals who love and respect each other; happiness rather than material wealth/power is the priority. It threatens the power of the traditional nobles as it provides the potential for social climbing. Finally, it becomes another part of the culture clash, as it also ties in with the Western value of individualism, putting it at odds with the more collectivist Indian culture as presented by the film.

Elizabeth and Darcy in the book and in the film are united by their belief in a marriage based on love (the modern view). In the film, Darcy says he wants to look forward to starting each day with his wife, while Lalita says she wants a man who is a romantic and respects her for her mind. For instance, Elizabeth states that "only the deepest love will induce me into matrimony" and that Jane and Bingley should have some time to get to know each other before being rushed into marriage. To Elizabeth, mutual love and respect are essential for a marriage to succeed.

As for book Darcy, when Caroline catches him admiring Elizabeth and asks if he will marry her right away, he jokingly rebuffs her for making that assumption: "A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy." Significantly, he mentions love needing to come before marriage, hinting that he shares the same belief about respect (admiration) and love being necessary for a good marriage. In fact, a big reason he separated Jane from Bingley was because he feared that Jane did not love Bingley in return. In short, love in marriage is just as important to Darcy as it is to Elizabeth.

Conclusion:

Bride and Prejudice, as shown by the title, focuses heavily on the theme of marriage and uses the culture clash between India and the West to emphasize the importance of first impressions in our treatment of others.

Even if you aren't into Pride and Prejudice, the movie is worth watching for the Bollywood dance sequences. I also liked the songs because they effectively developed the marriage theme.

The characters are mostly true to the book, except for Darcy, who isn't proud enough and is quick to reform his character.

Last but not least, the real villains of the story were imperialism and ethnocentrism.

Tags: @thatvermilionflycatcher @appleinducedsleep @princesssarisa

#bride and prejudice #aishwarya rai #martin henderson #bollywood #pride and prejudice #jane austen #mr darcy #elizabeth bennet #elizabeth x darcy #book adaptation #adaptation

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Three

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Author’s Note: I decided that this fic trilogy occurs a year after the season one final, making Julie and Y/N almost (or already) 17. Also… this part turned out waaay longer than expected. Which is why there is going to be a fourth part because I have one last idea but didn’t want to rush to write it. And to think this all started because of a rushed (haha) 1k Oneshot. I should really start to write more spontaneously, it seems like good things come out of it. Anyway, Enjoy! :D

Songs mentioned in this chapter (in this order): Now or Never & Wake Up by JaTP | Don't Stop Me Now by Queen | Rude by MAGIC! | Don’t Laugh At Me by Mark Wills | Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing by Tori Kelly | Still Learning by Halsey | Ayo Technology by 50 Cent | My version of My Name Is Luke by Trevor Wilson | Let’s Forget About It by Lisa Loeb | Let's Just Get Naked Lyrics by Joan Osborne | Hey by Pixies

word count: ~ 3.9k

summary: Even after meeting the boys they still aren’t tired of helping you out and they each have their own little ways to do it.

warnings:  // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

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Knowing that ghosts existed was an absurd feeling (even though you had always believed or hoped that there was more out there than just this world, especially with all those planets that had been discovered by NASA), but knowing that there were three certain ghosts that liked you enough to kindly haunt you, well… that was just plain unimaginable somehow. Yet, still less anxiety awakening than you expected. 

After Julie let you meet the guys for the first time you thought you were prepared to accept that you would not be able to talk to them unless they played something (after all, you had Flynn to groan about that), but the occasional giggle from Julie and her glances into nothing still sent chills down your spine.

So you started to always look around very suspiciously whenever you were over at her house and make obscene hand movements just to be sure that the boys would move before you walked somewhere or sat down (which just earned chuckles from Flynn and annoyed sighs from Julie - “Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they can’t see you. They know where you are, so please stop, or else my dad will call your parents and send you to Dr Turner as well.” The boys found it hilarious and liked to imitate you whenever they came too close to you.) 

The boys also still kept doing little things for you, just not so in secret anymore (though… Reggie was never one for subtlety). Whenever you seemed to have had a bad day (or whenever they just wanted to make you smile) you knew you could count on them having something prepared for you. 

You soon discovered that anything related to food (which sometimes were extremely odd and bizarre combinations) was Luke’s doing (except for pizza and meatballs, according to Julie that was always Reggie). And you knew it was Alex whenever it was something more calm and soothing, yet sometimes a little bit clumsy. And whenever it was blatantly obvious and/or slightly weird (in a good way!) it was Reggie. 

Well, no. Not always in a good way. One time you came back from school and your whole room was filled with glitter and butterflies and a small note with a little ‘Sorry!’ on it was pinned to your desk - cleaning that had been a pain in the a-. But you couldn’t be angry at Reggie, even though you weren’t quite sure what his ultimate goal would have been. 

Speaking of REGGIE...

All those helpful little deeds and nice gestures were always done within the limits of your house (mostly room) or Julie’s house and the studio, which is why you almost let out a loud yelp when suddenly during a math test your pen started to move on his own, filling out the empty space (because yes, you hadn’t been doing very much other than staring helplessly at the paper in front of you). Quickly you grabbed the pen as well (loosely and while trying to ignore the fact that you were practically holding hands with one of the guys) so that nobody would see a floating pen as you did a few weeks ago at Christmas.

From the corners of your eyes, you saw Julie slightly move her head towards you, as if she was listening to you - or rather someone right beside or behind you. ‘Of course. I can’t see them, so the only way to help me is by physically grabbing the pen, but Julie can hear and see them, so they (whoever this is - because let’s be honest, none of the guys really looks like a math genius) only have to tell her the corrects solutions and how to get there. My money’s on Alex.’

You were kind of shocked, and weirdly proud when Julie came up to you after class and said: “Reggie’s not so questionable after all, huh?” (Though… you should’ve guessed it, you did say subtlety wasn’t Reggie’s strong suit.) So you just giggled and shook your head while leaving some of your books in your locker (alongside the fact that Reggie was probably almost (if not!) hugging you from behind - you shuddered at that thought, it’s not like you were already awkward around living boys your age, no need to add ghosts to that list!)

A week later you and Julie entered the studio with blank faces and hanging shoulders. Julie threw a weak little wave towards the piano and sighed while you threw the blankets and snacks you were holding carelessly on the ground and let yourself fall face-first onto the couch, not being able to hide your smile anymore.

“We got our math exams back… yes the one Reggie helped us with.”

You couldn’t see what Julie was doing, but you heard her gasp and whisper “No! Reggie…” after a while. Then she was standing beside you, nudging your shoulder and willing you to sit up, but you didn’t bulge, needing a few more seconds to wipe the smile off your face again.

Faking to disgruntledly accept defeat as Julie’s nudges got stronger (the couch was really comfortable, you totally understood Luke now) you sat up and looked at Julie. “Who’s going to tell them?” you said with a heavy voice and felt how the couch dipped beside you. Raising your eyebrows you quickly glanced to the side (obviously not seeing anybody or anything) and looked back at Julie questioningly. 

She nodded, telling you that it was indeed Reggie and gave you the okay to drop the bomb.

You sighed as you turned back around, facing the wall on the other side of the studio and hoped that Reggie would ignore the fact that you were probably talking to his ear or something. “So Reggie… the help you gave us on the math final? Well…,” you couldn’t keep your face straight any longer and jumped onto the couch, “WE ACED IT! I WOULD HUG YOU IF YOU WEREN’T MADE OUT OF CUTE AIR!” (Okay… maybe there was a little bit too much serotonin involved.)

Julie added smiling, “And I’m happy to announce that due to my good grades my father allowed Julie and The Phantoms to play at the upcoming Summer Music Festival!”

A guitar riff filled the studio, followed by a short drum intro and with a ‘puff!’ the boys appeared in front of you, beaming and glowing at the news. Reggie even threw a wink at you when you smiled back and said: “Thank you!”

Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!

This allowed LUKE…

The music festival was an experience you would never forget. You were very happy Ray managed to persuade your parents to let you accompany Julie (sadly Flynn had no such luck). Not only did you turn 17 and the boys made sure to have the whole crowd sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you (as soon as you were back home you would add an extra point to your to-do: ‘find out how to kill ghosts a second time’), but the boys rocked the stage and Julie stood up taller and shined brighter than ever before. 

Gone (yet not forgotten) were the painful shocks and the fear of never performing again and the serenity of the guys was visible. 

It was the last night of the music festival when Julie got the phone call from her father. He would come by to get her the next morning and they would drive directly to visit other family members and spend the rest of the summer holidays there. 

Of course, Julie was excited to see her cousins and aunts and uncles again, but she also felt bad to leave you to drive back alone (you had come with your car jam-packed with all the necessary equipment you needed and that wasn’t provided by the festival).

“Don’t worry! It’s only a four-hour drive! I’ve got good music, podcasts and audiobooks to keep me company and back home Flynn will be waiting. It sadly looks like I’m going to survive without you.” 

Early the next morning Julie and some newfound fans of Julie and The Phantoms helped you load the equipment into your car and you said goodbye to Julie. Expecting the boys to just directly puff back to Los Feliz you didn’t waste any time and entered your car, connected your phone with the stereo and started to blast your favourite Broadway musicals.

You must’ve been on the road for half an hour when suddenly the playlist stopped and ‘Wake Up’ started to play.

So wake that spirit, spirit!

Confused you scrunched up your nose and touched the touch screen displaying the music system, trying to change it back to your playlist. But instead, the music changed yet again.

(Don't stop me now) 'Cause I'm having a good time (Don't stop me now) Yes, I'm havin' a good time I don't want to stop at all

“What the hell?” you muttered, staring at your stereo for a quick second before focusing back on the road, “Why you always going crazy on me dude?”

Once again the music switched.

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?

It took you a hot minute to understand what was going on and then you couldn’t stop laughing. 

Don't laugh at me, don't call me names Don't get your pleasure from my pain

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said mockingly, looking at the empty passenger seat, guessing that that’s where your invisible friend was sitting. “Your pain? I’m not the one who is able to puff wherever and whenever their heart desires and who sneaks up on innocent people.”

Silence. 

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not like you choose this life, you deserved better than this. But I’m really glad I was able to get to know you. I’m really thankful for the light and happiness you brought back into Julie’s life.”

Don't you worry 'bout a thing

But I'm still learnin' to

using technology

You laughed. “Impressive skills nevertheless. Knowing three fitting songs and then changing them at the right time? Let me guess, Luke? Because I don’t think all of you three would fit into my tiny car full of musical equipment.”

At first, there was no music yet again, but then the slow melody of a (for you) well-known song flooded your car. It was the one Trevor Wilson song you never understood until you met the boys, the one song that was so totally different to his usual rock sound (except for the refrains, which, as you later would find out, were parts of the original lyrics Luke wrote for his version of the song).

I sing to remember the stories that used to be But I don’t write to create what could have been And as I scream words into the darkness around me They come out like a dying whisper

The kindest thing to do is to silence them and let them die To unleash my heartfelt sorrow into the sky  And diminish the will to fight That pulses like fire and screams with pain through my veins

But life’s not always beautiful, it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a breeze when he’s a hurricane Don’t call him a tremble when he’s an earthquake Don’t call him an inconvenience Please just say his name

Leaving lyrics in my hands That I swallow like pills Like hurtful words, they rip and claw And press painfully against my chest

But no matter how painful they are I will soak them up, thinking of our hopes and wishes And as each word pushes a new pulse through my veins I keep staring out on the grave of our shared space of mind

Life’s not always beautiful, but it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a spark when he’s a lightning bolt Don’t call him a flicker when he’s a raging flame Don’t you dare to underestimate him Please just say his name

But even when the word flood finally comes to an end Fidgeting hands remind me of music never played

I owe him my voice I owe him my sound

So I give him this time I give him this space To sing it out loud To let him declare And let me be proud

What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!)

How long do we say his name? (Until we explode!)

My name is Luke! (Tell your friends!)

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, the song now more emotional than ever before. You couldn’t imagine how this song must affect Luke. Thinking that his bandmate abandoned him (which honestly… he kind of did, only mentioning him in one song, not giving any money to their parents and so on) up until he heard the song for the first time.

“Luke…”

Forget about it Let's forget about it

The ensuing silence wasn’t awkward. You hummed along to the music Luke selected, sometimes it were old classics (probably his favourites), other times it seemed to be random newer hits he probably never heard before mixed with some songs from your favourite playlists.

It was nearing midday and your stomach made itself known. As if on cue a road sign hinted at a diner just up ahead. Setting the blinker you pulled into the parking lot a few moments later.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know home’s only like an hour away, but...” you began to trail off, not knowing where to look at and your stomach finished your sentence. And before you were able to grab the door handle it sprung wide open. 

“Uh, what a gentleman. Thank you very much.”

The meal was over in a flash and once more you realised how much the boys actually knew about you without having actually interacted with you (perks of seeing other people without being seen themselves?). 

It’s like Luke could read your wishes just from your facial expressions. Whenever you needed salt or pepper they were right there. Whenever something was too salty or had too much pepper on your drink was being pushed closer to your side. And when you accidentally spilt something and needed more napkins they magically appeared.

When you then spotted a cute little guitar keychain that reminded you of Luke that was being sold as a souvenir at the check-out it was suddenly safely tucked into your back pocket (though that was really really risky, and while you did not condone it you couldn’t really stop a ghost).

Back in your car, you didn’t even bother to turn on the stereo, knowing that Luke would take over as soon as your hands were on the steering wheel again. 

However, a glance to your right presented you with a map of your surroundings, a big x hastily drawn over the Silverwood Lake in San Bernardino, which was basically just around the corner.

“You want to go swimming? We- I just ate! And my bathing suit is somewhere under that mountain of equipment on the backseat.”

Let's just get naked, just for a laugh Let's just get naked It's a trip and a half

You laughed at that, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, before stowing the map away and turning on the car. “I guess catching Reggie in the shower isn’t enough anymore?”

Hey!

“You started making it weird buddy.”

It had started to rain when you finally pulled up in your driveway, but you couldn’t be bothered to rush inside, enjoying the feeling of the cooling wetness on your skin.

“Look at that,” you said to nobody in particular, not knowing if Luke was still around or if he puffed back to the garage, “I didn’t even need to go swimming after all.”

He was. Sitting in the passenger seat, face on his arms while he leaned on the open car window, he watched you dance in the rain with a smile on his face. He was glad he decided to stick around and keep you company on that road trip. You gave him the courage to listen to My Name Is Luke for the first time (and getting to see you smile while showing off his impressive music knowledge was a bonus too). Because without knowing, you were doing little deeds for the boys too.

And made ALEX…

Whoever wrote that “Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain”-quote totally forgot to mention how dangerous small summer storms can be. 

Well sure, it might have been your fault for staying out for too long and deciding to let the sun that came out a little bit later dry you instead of changing into fresh and dry clothes, but whatever happened happened and you got sick. (It’s not like you had anything better to do during the last few days of your summer holidays, right?) 

Flynn had been a great friend and hung out almost daily at your house, playing board games, watching movies or tv or even just discussing upcoming Julie and The Phantoms possibilities with you. But your dearest little helper had been Alex.

The blond drummer had turned into the tall brother you never had but always wanted (focus on tall because the age thing with ghosts is seriously confusing) even if he was invisible to you 100% of the time. You had the same interests and were able to bond without actually having to say any words, little gestures and reciprocations on your side were more than enough.

Julie had come up with an easy solution and had bought you some of those sound buzzers (like the ones that dogs and cats use to communicate with their owners) and recorded some simple words and phrases the boys liked to use on them. Now the boys just had to press them to be able to communicate with you without having to use pen and paper or Julie herself (sure your parents were a little bit weary and confused, but you said it was for a longer school research project and that shut them up).

Now, feeling way better than during the last few days, but still very tired, you were sitting in your bed, not really focused on the tv show (or was it a movie?) that was playing on your computer. You had been contemplating and mentally preparing yourself to get something to eat and to drink for the past 15 minutes, but the thoughts alone were exhausting and binding you to the bed. Just then a tray with a water bottle, meds and a fruit bowl floated into your room. 

Suddenly wide awake and full of energy you clumsily jumped out of your bed and grabbed the tray, throwing a quick glance out of the door to see if your parents were around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud sound and hoping that Alex had walked out of the way (not that it would have hurt him, but you know - rude).

“Rude.” 

See? He thought the same. (Julie had to specifically add this word for Alex.) 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But I would like not to get murdered or have Sam and Dean Winchester on my back because my parents think I’m possessed and need to be exorcised.”

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Me.”

“Alex… I need more context.”

“I do. Me.”

You just blinked blankly at the sound buzzers, trying to piece together what Alex was trying to say.

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. M-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH Y/N! WHATEVER THAT SCHOOL PROJECT IS, TELL IT I HEARD IT AND I DON’T CARE WHAT IT WANTS!” you heard your father's scream come muffled through the door.

The audience laughter from sitcoms filled your room and you groaned, grabbing a pillow and smashing it against your face.

Faintly you heard the telltale sound of a pen scribbling something on paper and when you peeked from behind the pillow a note was floating in the air in front of you. “You mean exorcise ME! You would be the one surviving!” 

“What? Oh my god… yeah okay, YOU get exorcised… same thing. Both aren’t allowed to happen. Forgive my fever brain.”

“No.”

“Fork you, Alex.”

“No.”

“I have Carlos on speed-dial, I’m sure he already came up with other methods to get rid of ghosts other than the salt thing. He already told me that he’s sorry and that he thinks I might get haunted by you too with the amount of time I spend at their house.” 

“No. Food.”

Confused at that topic change it took you a few seconds to answer. “What?” Looking around your gaze landed on the tray that you had deposited on your desk. “Oh right! Boy, I completely forgot how thirsty and hungry I am. Did I say thank you? Fang u!” you mumbled with your mouth full of fruit. 

“No. Food.”

You swallowed down your food and took a big gulp of water. “Yes Alex, thank you. I am eating. You see? Here I am, here’s the food. The food is here and now whoops - ifs gan!”

You could basically feel the annoyance radiating from the ghost and weren’t really shocked when the pen started to scribble something down again.

“No! Argh!” He really wrote Argh… that dork really wrote Argh! “You can be worse than Reggie sometimes, but you do it on purpose and I’m just sorry for Reggie. A) Carlos thinks he got rid of us by making a french dip and B) You’re awfully lively for a supposedly sick person. I might need to use the buzzers more and see what other reactions I can provoke from your parents.”

Crumbling the note in your hands you thought ‘Challenge accepted’. “You know what? I think I’mma go back on Reggie’s offer and actually let him introduce me to Wilbur. He might know some stuff I could use to blackmail you. And you’re right! I feel much better, just very tired, but that’s nothing a little bit of fresh air can’t fix! Toodles!” 

You left your room, leaving a flabbergasted ghost behind who had lost his snapback with the number of times he had been combing through his hair with his hands. And while angrily pressing a pink buzzer, the buzzer wasn't the only thing that screamed “WILLIAM!” after the girl. (That was another important sound Alex wanted to have recorded.)

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Taglist: @sunsetcurvej​​ @ifilwtmfc​

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp x reader #julie and the phantoms x reader #luke patterson x reader #reggie peters x reader #alex mercer x reader #jatp imagine #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp one shot #jatp oneshot #julie and the phantoms oneshot #julie and the phantoms one shot #my writing #viascribbles

[stardew-mermaid]

im WEAK for my faves as parents and i know lots of y'all are too so here are

bachelors as dads vibes

(bachelorettes as moms will come soon too ❤️ under cut cause it got very long lol)

sebastian

a chill dad. when u were very little he'd let u sit in his lap while he codes and consequently u find heavy metal soothing cause he would be playing it while he works and u would always fall asleep against him

if he wasn't using his second computer u could play around on it while he works. 'existing in each other's company while u both do stuff' time becomes a regular thing even as u get older, u would do ur homework next to him at his desk and he'd help if u were confused

the first time u were deemed old enough to go for a ride on his motorcycle u were SO fucking hyped even if u had to be absolutely decked out in protective gear. sometimes while u were in high school he'd help you flex by picking you up/dropping you off on the bike

would bundle u up in his hoodies as a toddler and there's a few pics of u absolutely SWIMMING in them with the hood all the way over ur face pretending to be the grim reaper. he'd never been so proud

elliott

an eloquent dad, but still has goofy dadlike tendencies. he may be the picture of a dark academia dilf with his slacks and button ups sipping coffee in the morning over a manuscript, but he'll still make the jokes. calls u things like little one and taught u to play piano

he got u ur own little bookshelf for all ur baby books and he'd read to you every single night without fail. he'd make up stories too and u would help and make a collab tho it often got u more excited than relaxed for bed but it was worth it!!! when u were grown up u helped him compile the short stories u made up together and published it. he'd also share with u poems he wrote for you and about you over the years, lots of them to do with the wonder of watching a whole tiny person grow into a big person

would always take u on nature walks and play at the beach!!! u would find shells and rocks to give to him and he'd always look like u just handed him pure gold

u made a pact that u would sit still for him while he did ur hair if u could braid his hair in turn. u both looked very stylish

sam

cool dad!!! fun dad!!!! watches anime with u when u get into it and is forever ur player 2. if u had a skateboard or a scooter he'd always show u up by pulling off sick tricks and it became a friendly rivalry. taught u to stick it to the man at a very early age. teaches u to play guitar and took u to ur first rock concert when u were like 8

there are baby photos of u wearing sunglasses that cover half ur face and when asked about it he'd say 'u were just a rly cool baby!!!!' in some of them he's wearing matching sunglasses and carrying u in one of those front baby pouches. he'd also always sing to you as a baby and still does it idly sometimes and has written songs for u!!!!

ur #1 hypeman. praises u for everything and always makes sure u know how cool u are just for existing. he loses his mind at ur grade school talent show and at ur graduation he's there holding up his phone and crying like FUCK IT UP KENNETH!!!!! 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

tho alongside all the fun he teaches u to be very responsible and polite and above all extremely kind!!!!

shane

has the most potent typical dad energy. the socks with sandals, the jokes, the ac/dc, the funny hobby projects, the rivalry with other pta parents, all of it. calls u squirt and kiddo and the kind to ruffle ur hair. always gives u piggy back rides even as u get older, says it helps him stay in shape. when u were little you'd always bap ur baby hands against his stubble cause heehee funny scratchy face

u loved when he was in charge of dinner growing up cause it was often takeout pizza/burgers. 'hey im making a pot of kraft dinner should i double it for u' kind of guy, adds cut up hot dogs and after ur other parent voices a need for nutrition adds frozen veggies too. VERY good at cooking all kinds of eggs tho, would always feed u eggs from his own chickens and would accept nothing less!!!

teaches u a lot about chickens and some of ur fave memories with him are in the coop or chillin in a field in spring with him and the new chicks. some other faves include the regular tea parties with him and cousin jas, and even as u both get older u all sit down and have tea together sometimes and occasionally break out one of the old barbie movies for funsies

u learned how to say fuck from him when u were 3 and he died laughing. if called and told that u got into a fight at school would reply with 'did they win'

harvey

sweet, dorky doctor dad. would get SUPER worried whenever u got so much as a cold, made u stay home and rest and HYDRATE. taught u proper medical standard handwashing from when u first learned how to turn on the tap, also taught u a lot of basic first aid. when u were fussy he would read u his old textbooks from med school and it'd get you to sleep in minutes

refuses to let u leave the house without eating something first and would often get up early to make u a big breakfast before school (it's the most important meal of the day!!!!). yes it's ok if ur late ur english teacher can wait until you've had ur veggies. when u were a baby his standard of keeping u fed was 'if i had to change less than five diapers a day it wasn't enough'. encourages taking a snack and water everywhere

as u got older u realized how hardworking he is so u make sure he knows how much u love and appreciate him, goes all out for his bday and father's day like how he goes all out for u every day and it makes him cry. he cries at ur first birthday and ur graduation too, cried when u got him a #1 DAD mug specifically for his morning coffee, he just cries a lot and it's very endearing, dad taught u it's okay to be emotional. u also gift him funky socks to wear at work and he goes bananas for them

he taught u how to assemble model planes and u would sit with him while he tuned his old radio, u liked the bwee bwee sounds. he would play jazz and swing and dance with u standing on his feet. when u were little u liked to play with his moustache and occasionally he would fall asleep while watching u but the most u ever did was add a goatee to the stache with washable marker which he thought was pretty funny

alex

strong dad!!! jock dad!!!!! would flex and let u hang off his bicep, play wrestle (u would always win), sit u on his shoulders and run around making airplane noises, play sportsball in the yard and would come up with fun challenges for u if u got bored of catch. pretty much the master of keeping ur baby self entertained and was always there to tuck u in for a nap when u got tired out

makes an extra protein shake for u every morning and loads of scrambled eggs, will also sneak u a cookie tho

he's always super encouraging and positive and enthusiastic about everything u do which u pick up fast. u go to his games and even if sports turns out not to be ur thing the fact that ur there rooting for him makes him put in 1000% effort, calls u his good luck charm!!!! he will also throw u over his shoulders and use u for weightlifting while u shout encouragement directly into his ear. this continues until ur grown up (and sometimes even then so he can flex even as an 'old man')

gets really really worried about you whenever ur sick or get hurt and will lose sleep over it but stays upbeat for ur sake. he will cuddle u tho. sometimes you'll ask for stories about ur grandma and he'll tell u and it's so nice to him to talk about his mother and smile instead of being sad, you help him heal because it's so wonderful to think of her as a grandmother and how proud she'd be. he plays her music box for u to help u sleep when ur little and it still makes u feel sleepy and safe when ur older

#food mention -/ #stardew valley #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley imagines #sdv headcanons #sdv imagines #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv sam #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv alex #long post #big dad energy

[awanderingdeal]

Hi! I was wondering if you can write coops and the cubs hanging out together and bonding?

Hiya, thanks for the prompt! I puffy heart love thinking about coops and the cubs hanging out.

Fun fact: several of these lines are misquoted from times I have done escape rooms with people.

Rating: T

Cw: couple of sexual innuendos, jokes about violence and some food mentions

Let me know if you think I need to change the rating or add any content warnings.

These characters are from the Sweater Weather universe and belong to @lumosinlove

"Oh look, you can pedal this thing."

Logan bit back his berating reply, having been told twice already that he was taking this too seriously.

Attends!" he yelled, eyes widening at the screen that had lit up. "I think -" The backlight faded before he could comprehend what had been there. He jogged the short distance to the door they had just managed to get open, craning his head around the frame. Finn had crammed himself into a small rowing boat that was sank into the wooden floor, his knees tucked up against his chest. "Harzy, pedal again?"

"Yes! Pedalling the boat makes the screen light up. It looks like an, putain -" Logan growled, "- Sirius, comment dis-tu énigme en anglais?"

"Don't ask me, I don't speak English," Sirius said, his eyes knitted into a focused frown as he attempted to move a key through a Perspex covered maze using a magnet. The problem was the key was hidden under a layer of sand which made tracking its movement difficult.

"Enigma works; a puzzle or riddle is probably closer to what you mean though," Leo answered, squeezing Logan's hip discretely as he passed by.

"A puzzle, a riddle, whatever, somebody just needs to pedal the boat so we can solve it."

"Loops!" The chorus rang through the room unanimously.

"Why do I have to -"

"Mon loup, now is not the time for modesty." Sirius cursed as he lost the key again.

Remus rolled his eyes, but the smug smile set on his lips told a different story. Once he had began pedalling, they moved through the puzzle pretty quickly, managing to open the treasure chest and get a key.

"Sirius, are you still doing that maze?" Remus laughed as he re-entered their half of the room. "Maybe somebody else -"

The sound that left Sirius' mouth could only be described as a growl.

"Alright, be stubborn, Black," Remus kissed the back of his neck.

"I found something!" Logan turned to see Finn his head buried in one of the distressed cargo crates scattered around the room. "It's a message in a bottle," he stood, hands clutching the item. He shoved it in Leo's direction. "Here, get this open. I'm going to see if there's more things to find."

The tinny sound of metal hitting the floor, grabbed Logan's attention, looking just in time to see Sirius' discreet fist pump before he bent to pick up the key.

"You did it then?" Logan teased, "took you long enough, Cap"

"Shut up," Sirius huffed, smiling softly. "Don't think I won't have you skate laps until you puke."

"Loops, your fiancé is bullying me. Make him stop."

"I'm not getting involved," Remus chuckled, not lifting his eyes from the puzzle he and Leo were trying to solve.

"Finn, where did you get a pen and paper from?" Leo's question stopped the inevitable squabble about to break out, the four of them turning their attention to Finn. He was crouched over a typewriter, his eyes flicking between the metal buttons, a yellowing shred of paper and a newer lined piece.

"I brought it with me," Finn shifted his glasses up the bridge of his nose, cocking his head a little. Shit, he was hot.

The four of them looked between themselves. "Is that allowed?" Logan broke the silence.

"Nobody's shouted at me yet?" Finn shrugged again, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the camera.

They looked at each other again. "He's got a point," Remus muttered, going back to the bottle.

"What the fuck was that?" Logan jumped, spinning around. The door of the previous room was shut. "Oh no, no, no, no." He rushed over, pushing against the thick wood. His hands searched, looking for some way to open it.

"I think it's locked, Lo." Thank you Leo for that incredibly helpful input.

"Why is nobody else panicking?" Logan rubbed at his temples. "What if we needed something in there?"

"Tremblay," Sirius' hands found his shoulders. "Get it together. Even if there was something in there then there's nothing nothing we can do about it now. We've just got to keep our heads and push forward."

"Aww, look at Cap go," Finn cooed. "Loops, does he give you pep talks in bed too?"

Remus' eyes tracked to the camera, casually moving another mechanism of the puzzle. "I wonder if they've ever had a murder in this room"

"Can we murder people later, please?" Leo's next words were muttered so Logan couldn't hear them, but Remus gave a loud snort. "We've only got 15 minutes left on the clock," he continued.

The next 13 minutes went by with multiple successes: the bottle was opened revealing a note with a series of numbers they had no idea what to do with; Logan and Sirius managed to find a third key on a small hook hidden behind some giant palm leaves, and Finn's tapped his deciphered code into the typewriter unlocking a battered looking wardrobe that contained a treasure chest. There in, lay the problem.

The games master had told them at the beginning they needed to find the chest because it contained a 'flare' which would be there only hope of getting off the island they had washed up on. Except, the chest had four padlocks, one of which was numerical and the other three opened with keys.

"I guess we just try them?" Leo mused.

"We don't have enough time, surely there's a logic to it"

"Stop wasting time chatting and starting trying codes."

Finn's fingers worked quickly at the combination lock, groaning each time he didn't hear the click he was after.

"The keys the wrong way round, Logan," Leo said.

Logan hissed. "Sssh! I can't concentrate with you all shouting at me."

"I wasn't shouting. I was trying -"

A speaker crackled, an ominous voice filling the room. "Would you like a clue?"

"No!" It was the only thing they had all agreed on in what seemed like a long time.

Seconds later, there was a joyous click and the padlocks popped open.

"Congratulations, you managed to escape the island with 4 seconds left." The same brunette man who had briefed them earlier was back. He might have mentioned earlier that his name was Kyle. What Logan knew for sure was his smile was too wide and it was setting him on edge. "Would you like a photo?"

"Yes," Finn nodded eagerly. "The other boys will never believe us other wise."

The games master nodded, scrawling their time messily on a chalkboard proclaiming they had successfully escaped. A light flooded the room and maybe-Kyle swung a camera up from his hip.

Several photographs later, he asked for an email address to send them to, any pretense that he was even vaguely happy to be there lost now.

"Aww, it's cute," Leo said, thrusting his phone in Logan's direction. "Look at Finn," he laughed, pointing at their boyfriend, smile wide, and his fingers thrown up in a v.

"Merde, we're so lucky. Do we have to go to dinner with Cap and Loops?" Logan whispered.

"Oi! We can hear you. And no ditching, you owe me a pizza," Remus shot him a playful glare.

"Sid's?"

"Sid's," an agreeable chorus returned.

#finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #sirius black #remus lupin #sweater weather #lumosinlove #rating: t #cw:food mention #cw:sexual innuendo #cw: violence jokes

[tippedbykreider]

your love is my turning page | c. kreider

Word count: 17,700 Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, sex, mention of breakdown of previous relationship, mentions of infidelity. Author’s note: This was the first long-fic I ever wrote and to say that I was proud of it is an understatement. I’ve made some minor additions to this and hope you all enjoy it second time around as much as you did the first time. Fic title is from ‘Turning Page’ by Sleeping at Last Summary: Chris Kreider doesn’t believe in fate but a chance meeting in a Manhattan bookstore opens his mind, and his heart, to things he has only ever read about in the books he loves so much.

*

‘We are asleep until we fall in love’ – Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace.

Sometimes in life there are moments where everything changes, suddenly and unexpectedly and in ways that make it impossible to be the same person that you were before. It’s a bit like a storm, sweeping in and rearranging your life completely to a point beyond recognition, where everything changes and you’re left with a choice: mourn what was lost or use it as an opportunity to rebuild and come back stronger than before.

That was the dilemma Roseanna Williams faced after the man she thought she’d grow old with turned out to be nothing more than a huge disappointment. She should have seen it coming if she was to be completely honest with herself, years of waiting for him to outgrow what she presumed to be a teenage phase yielded nothing but frustration and a growing sense of impatience. If you asked any of her close friends and family they would tell you that she should have done it years ago but it never was as easy as just walking away, not when it came to the man whom she had been with since the tender age of fifteen. After she’d graduated university and completed her teaching degree, she was itching and ready for them both to take the next step in their relationship, to make more of a commitment, hell, even get married, but every attempt at an adult discussion about their future was met with resistance and a string of excuses.  The realisation suddenly began to dawn on her that maybe he was a lost cause and that she was wasting the best years of her life by waiting on him to get his shit together. The final straw came when she’d come home early from a teaching conference and found him in bed with someone she had considered to be a friend. That was when the flood defences failed and all the water she’d been ignoring for so long came rushing in, destroying everything she thought she knew and leaving her shaken to the core and gasping for breath. 

It started as a spark of an idea, moving away and getting a fresh start, London perhaps, or maybe somewhere further North. Exeter held too many memories now, the hurt and betrayal burying all of the wonderful times she’d had in the city that had always been her home. She’d discussed it at length with her parents who, while saddened at the prospect of their youngest daughter moving away, encouraged her to pursue whatever would make her the happiest. The spark caught, much like it always did whenever Rosie set her mind to something and before she knew it she was applying for a United States work visa and looking for places to live in New York City. All that was left to do was to pack up her life and trust in the magic of new beginnings.

That was how she ended up in Brooklyn, New York, teaching English Literature at a local high school. It was a different kind of life, one that took her a couple of years to get used to and while Rosie wasn’t quite confident enough yet to call herself a New Yorker, she definitely felt like she had found somewhere that she could call home. That feeling started as a seed, growing roots and leaves every time she would get off the subway at the right stop or find a new coffee shop to try until eventually she could rattle off her favourite places to get an Americano or the best places to get pizza. Her family and friends loved it, naturally, having the perfect reason to come and visit the Big Apple and Rosie loving nothing more than having the opportunity to show off the city she’d grown to adore.

Of course, there were parts of her old life that she missed. How could she not? She missed her family and her university friends. She missed afternoon teas with Devonshire clotted cream and summer days spent at the beach in Torquay. ‘You can always come home, love,’ her mother would say and that was completely true and while a part of her would always yearn for the smell of the sea or the cry of a gull on a soft summer breeze and while her roots were very much planted in Devonshire soil, her heart belonged to New York City.

She’d developed somewhat of a routine during the first couple of years that she’d lived in Brooklyn and it was one that hadn’t changed much, loving nothing more than taking the subway to Manhattan on weekends to spend the day checking out all the small independently run bookstores (when she wasn’t drowning in unmarked papers, of course). This particular late-October Saturday had started much like the others; she allowed herself a well-deserved lie-in after a hectic week of teaching and a bottle of Sangiovese the previous night, savouring her first cup of coffee like it was the first she’d had in months while she set about watering her house plants. A shower that lasted entirely too long, which doubled as a Fleetwood Mac tribute concert that she was sure her neighbours appreciated, was next on the agenda before she finally bundled herself up to face a chilly Autumn day in the city. 

She’d stopped off at her favourite coffee shop on the way to the station and chatted with the young barista, Laura, behind the counter, whom she’d grown to know over the months since Laura had started working there. She’d learned that Laura was planning a trip to Europe next Summer and offered some suggestions of places in England to visit, making sure to get her to promise to not just visit London. With her take-out coffee cradled in her hands, the cup serving her well as a much needed hand-warmer, the late-morning had Rosie heading towards Westsider Books, a favourite haunt of hers that she couldn’t help but keep coming back to. She had no reason at all to think that going to that store was going to prove to be another one of those moments that she could look back on as being a defining moment in her story, but with a push of the door, every star and planet aligned that set her on a course that would change her life forever.

*

Christopher James Kreider was a self-confessed simple man, despite his career choice and the lifestyle that came with it seeming to be anything but. He was incredibly thankful for the certain level of anonymity that came with living in a place like New York; certainly, there were times where he would be recognised and would be stopped for a picture or autograph, but in the sea of a-list celebrities that called the city home, he was just a small fish and was happiest when he was flying under the radar. The kind of life afforded by being a professional athlete playing in the National Hockey League was one that he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. Sure, he had a sweeping Tribeca apartment that he called home, he had a nice car, he went to work wearing expensive suits and could afford to eat out in the city anywhere he wanted, but the reality of it all was that he was most at ease sprawled out on his couch with a good book and a bottle of wine.

His teammates affectionately called him the hockey Renaissance man, a nod to his impressive pursuits off the ice, but it was never a name that sat comfortably with him. As far as he was concerned, he was just Chris, there was nothing special about him and his ability to deflect praise or compliments was nothing short of reflexive. His days off during the season were few and far between and he was always keen to make the most of the time afforded to him. An early start and cup of coffee usually preceded a quick workout, followed by a shower, a second coffee and a crossword puzzle while he decided how he was going to spend his day. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to stay within the sanctuary of his apartment and read Hemingway until the sun began to dip below the skyline, other times he would venture out into the city and check out the new exhibit down at the art gallery in Soho before finding somewhere quiet to enjoy a good cup of coffee.

The season had gotten off to a decent enough start, the chemistry between the team seeming to grow with each game and Chris hitting his stride early on. He’d just returned from a three game trip in Canada and despite the slight fatigue he was feeling, he was eager to get out into the city. He wasn’t in the market for anything in particular but there was a lot of joy to be found in rummaging through old record shops or second hand book stores, at least in Chris’s opinion anyway. There was something so special about a pre-loved record or book, he thought, each had their own tale to tell and each held a special place in someone’s heart at one point or another. There were barely any new editions of books on his bookshelves, some so tatty and worn that their bindings were stringy and the pages threatened to abscond if held the wrong way.

Chris was a creature of habit and it was something that he would freely admit. He often visited the stores closest to home, not often venturing further than Midtown, but with nothing but time he found himself on the 1 train and headed towards Upper West Side, Westsider Books his destination of choice. The first thing he noticed upon entering wasn’t the towering shelves that stacked books upon books but the unmistakable scent of vellichor, that grassy, almost vanilla aroma that felt a lot like coming home. The owner offered a friendly smile before nodding towards the vast collection of books.

“There’s fiction all down here, poetry’s at the back and non-fiction’s upstairs. Let me know if there’s something in particular you’re lookin’ for, I know there’s a lotta books in here.”

“Thank you,” Chris replied. “Do you have any Russian literature in at all?”

“We sure do, whatever we’ve got is on the third shelf from the back there, on your left.”

“Perfect, thanks a lot for your help.”

Chris offered the man behind the counter a smile and headed deeper into the shop, stopping in front of an impressive looking collection of Russian classics. It was easy to get lost in the volumes on the shelves, flicking through pages of different editions, some of them older than he’d ever seen before. There was one book in particular though that caught his eye, unassuming and inconspicuous enough, nestled between War and Peace and the Death of Ivan Ilyich. He reached out to touch the navy blue leather but was suddenly caught off-guard by the sensation of cold fingers knocking against his own.

“God, I’m so sorry, I was completely in my own world there.”

His eyes flicked to his right towards the source of the voice, soft and feminine with an accent that he knew not to be local. Rosie hadn’t even noticed him, which now that she was taking in his appearance properly didn’t exactly understand how she’d missed him standing beside her. He was well over six foot, she noted, and impossibly broad, but the thing that stood out to her the most about him was the unmistakable kindness in his hazel eyes, a tranquil grove of moss covered trees with their different shades of bark.

“No, no, you’re good. It’s me, big clumsy oaf over here,” he trailed off with a soft laugh, a slight heat rising in his cheeks now that he was really seeing her, with her eyes that were as blue as a summer sky and hair that reflected the colour of the autumn leaves outside.

“Did you want Anna Karenina?” Rosie asked, nodding towards the shelves.

“Oh, um, it’s okay, you go for it,” he smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that gave him a kind of softness, a familiarity almost.

“Please, I insist,” Rosie reached for the book and took it from its resting place amongst the other Tolstoy works, handing it to Chris. “I already have three different editions of this, if I took home a fourth I think an intervention would need to be staged.”

Rosie grinned as Chris laughed, the sound full and rich to her ears, while he took the book from her hands and tucked it under his arm.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He started, his eyes flitting across her features before they settled to meet her gaze. Her grin had faded into a warm smile that reached all the way up to her eyes and she was surveying him with an almost curiosity, one that he found himself matching. “I’m sorry, I know you probably get asked this all the time,” he continued, with an endearing kind of sheepishness that kept the corners of Rosie’s mouth lifted upwards, “but I gotta ask about the accent. I wanna say British but I don’t want to come across like a stereotypically ignorant American if I’m wrong.”

“Oh it’s okay,” Rosie chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “you’re only the third person to ask me today.”

Chris could tell from the sparkle in her eye and the smirk on her lips that she meant no malice in her reply and made an exaggerated cringing grimace in return.

“God, I know. I’m sorry. You must get sick of it.”

“I mean, if I had a dollar for every time someone asked I’d be a very rich lady, but yeah, your ears don’t deceive you, I’m British. Actually from Exeter in Devon specifically, which is like South West England and now I realise that that probably means nothing to you,” she laughed as she caught the slightly vacant expression that had graced his features while she had been explaining her place of birth.

“I know, I’m sorry. I guess I really am a stereotypical ignorant American.”

Rosie responded with a gentle shake of her head as she spoke, “Nah, I wouldn’t say so. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about the rest of the States, it took me longer than I care to admit to just not get lost going two or three blocks down.”

Chris smiled, both at her kindness and the gentle lilt of her accent. “So are you here visiting, or?”

Rosie shook her head again, the auburn waves shaking and falling about her face in a way that had Chris’s smile doubling.

“Well, I’m visiting Manhattan, but I live in the city, been here coming up five years now.”

“Yeah? And you like it?”

Rosie’s smile sparked at the corner of her mouth until it spread like wildfire and lit up the whole of her face. Chris couldn’t help but notice how beautiful it made her look, that kind of smile that was so undeniably authentic and genuine and yet so incredibly rare in a city as big as New York; but there it was, right in front of him and warm like sunshine.

“I love it here,” the affection in her voice clear as day. “It’s so different from anything back home and in the best possible way.”

Chris got the impression from her seemingly deliberate choice of words that there was a story there, but the classic literature aisle didn’t really seem like the time and place to get into it with someone he’d just met, nor did he want to assume that she would even offer that tale to him freely. Instead, he took the book out from under his arm and held it out to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take this home with you?”

“I’m positive. ‘Live in the needs of the day’ as Tolstoy would say and I don’t really need that book. I’m sure you’ll give it a wonderful home.”

She met his eyes briefly, her stomach flip-flopping at the softness she found there, and gave him a warm smile that matched the one he was wearing. Chris wasn’t sure what had made him feel so bold. Perhaps it was the feeling of being so completely at ease with her, despite not even knowing her name and despite having known her for a mere five minutes, or perhaps it was the gentleness in her eyes. He didn’t spend too much of his time thinking about it as the words were out of his mouth before he could second guess them.

“At least let me buy you a coffee as a thank you.”

“Do you buy all the women you meet in bookshops coffee?” Rosie quipped without missing a beat.

“Damn, you caught me.”

Rosie laughed, easy and free with her head tipped back and Chris knew in that moment that he needed this woman in his life in some way, the sound bright and rich like the first sip of coffee in the morning or the first rays of summer sunshine filtering through curtains. He was still surveying her with an easy grin as she shuffled on her feet slightly, deciding whether she was going to let her head or her heart reign supreme today.

“I don’t usually make a habit of getting coffee with strangers,” the small smile still playing on her lips despite the tentative nature of her words.

Chris instinctively offered his hand out for her to shake.

“Well, I’m Christopher and you are?”

Rosie placed her hand in his, the smile on her face doubling in size at his kindness as she shook his hand, and tried to ignore the way her heart started to race at how warm and easy his touch felt.

“Rosie, or Roseanna if we’re using our Sunday names.”

“Nice to meet you, Rosie,” Chris said, his tone gentler than was probably necessary in the moment but it had Rosie feeling more relaxed in his presence by the second. “See, we’re not strangers anymore.”

“No, I don’t suppose we are. Alright then, Christopher, I accept your proposal of coffee and if you turn out to be an axe murderer then I hope you enjoy the book.”

It wasn’t very often that Rosie let curiosity get the better of her but there was something telling her to surrender to this moment in front of her, to let her heart win for once and throw caution to the wind. There was something about Chris and his aura that made it incredibly easy to ignore that prudent and wary voice in the back of her head that would usually call for rational and cautious thinking in situations such as this one, the voice that is often nurtured during childhood by parents and adults alike to help keep you safe from harm, the voice that would warn you about the dangers of strangers. Chris was a stranger, this was, of course, an undisputed fact, but Rosie didn’t feel like she was in any danger with this man. She guessed that it had an awful lot to do with the genuine warmth that seemed to radiate from him that made her feel less like she was with a someone she’d just met in a book shop and more like she was catching up with an old friend. It was incredibly rare that she felt so at ease with someone, let alone a man she knew nothing about except for his name, but she’d grow to learn that that was just the magic of Chris, his sincerity and kindness always radiating from him like the glow of an open fire on a cold winter’s night.

“I can say with absolute certainty that I’m not an axe murderer,” he grinned. “But if it would make you feel better I was planning on taking you to Irving Farm, y’know, so you can check in with someone if you wanted.”

That simple gesture alone told Rosie all she needed to know about Chris, the fact he was so cognizant of how a woman might be feeling going to get coffee with a man she’d just met. It was that thoughtfulness and that tingle of curiosity and wonder that had her following him to the counter and waiting as he paid for his book before they both ventured back out into the chilly air and towards the café. Making small talk on the short walk there was incredibly easy, the effortless nature of their conversation not lost on either of them and as they sat down opposite each other in a quiet corner of the shop, shedding their coats and scarves, Chris took the opportunity to really appreciate the beauty of the woman in front of him.

She was classically pretty, he thought, with her auburn locks freed from the confines of the scarf she had been wearing and the slight ruddiness to her cheeks from the way the cold air had kissed them during their short walk. But more than that, it was the way her presence seemed to uplift him in a way he hadn’t ever experienced before. Chris was an incredibly practical and logical man and the idea of kindred spirits wasn’t something that he subscribed to, but there was just something about Rosie. It was a sense of familiarity and a feeling often only felt between two people who had known each other for years. It was a feeling that, unbeknownst to him, Rosie shared too, not quite being able to remember a time where she was able to enthusiastically discuss literature at such great lengths with someone.

“So come on,” Chris said over his cup of coffee after they’d settled at a table in a quiet corner of the café. “You were able to quote Anna Karenina from memory, is there a particular reason for that or have I managed to find an even bigger book nerd than I am?”

Rosie smirked as she took a sip from her cup, eyes sparkling as she surveyed Chris. “I am a pretty big book nerd, but no, I actually teach literature.”

Chris’s eyebrows raised as an impressed little smirk pulled the corner of his lips upwards. He set his cup down and clasped his hands in front of him on the table.

“Forgive me for being bold here and by all means tell me to mind my own damn business, but what exactly makes a British literature teacher cross an ocean and put roots down in New York City?”

Rosie paused for a moment, chewing over her words in her mind.

“A vague sense of wanderlust, I guess,” she began carefully. “I don’t know, there was just… a lot of stuff that happened in my life and it felt like a good time for a fresh start while I was still young enough and brave enough to do it.”

“I’m sorry if that was too personal,” Chris looked at her apologetically, the slight flicker of sadness that had appeared in her eyes too prominent to ignore. “I didn’t mean to bring any painful memories back for you by prying.”

“It’s absolutely fine. All the diversity, all the charm and all the beauty of life are made up of light and shade, right?”

“You really love that book, don’t you?” Chris asked her softly, recognising the quote from the book currently sitting in the brown paper bag by his feet immediately, and with a gleam in his eye.

“It’s one of my favourites,” Rosie replied. “It’s probably up there with Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, Pride and Prejudice and For Whom the Bell Tolls.”

“You like Hemingway?” Chris’s eyes crinkled with his grin and shone with excitement as she nodded in agreement. “I love Hemingway,” he added. “He’s easily my favourite author.”

Rosie leaned forward in her seat and rested her arms on the table with her cup still cradled in her hands, Chris mirroring her action, like two school children about to share a secret.

“I love the beautiful simplicity of his writing. It’s direct but without losing any of the emotion or feeling. Like, don’t get me wrong, Russian literature and authors like Tolkien are wonderful and they certainly have their part to play, but sometimes there’s just no need for pages and pages just to get a point across. That’s the beauty of Hemingway, the straightforwardness of it.”

“Yes!” Chris exclaimed, his face lighting up. “That’s exactly it. Take The Old Man and the Sea as an example, that book is what? Twenty-seven thousand words? But the feeling and the message that he’s able to get across, it’s amazing. God, I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve read that book.”

“A favourite of yours, then?”

Chris nodded as he picked up his mug. “Without a doubt, followed closely by For Whom the Bell Tolls and An Immovable Feast.”

He punctuated his statement with a wink and a smile, savouring the way Rosie’s face would ignite with pure joy as she laughed.

“Perhaps we should compare notes,” she mused behind her coffee.

“Is that you saying you wanna meet up again?” Chris asked, a cocky grin on his face.

“What if it is?” She countered quickly, a twinkle in her eye that had Chris’s heart thundering in his chest.

“Then I think you’d better take my number.”

 *

The weeks passed and autumn collapsed into winter, the first frosts clinging to everything and covering the city in opaline glitter. Rosie’s schedule had begun to slow following the initial insanity of the beginning of the academic year as things started to wind down for the holidays. She’d spent a lot of her free time preparing for her annual trip home to England to spend Christmas with her family, something that she looked forward to all year. Whatever time was left was spent reading or catching up with Chris, who had been equally busy with his work as a professional hockey player. He’d mentioned this to her briefly and in passing during their phone calls, which certainly explained why his schedule was often so all over the place, but the concept was so alien to Rosie that she didn’t feel the need to pry further. Growing up in Devon meant that her exposure to a sport like ice hockey was next to nothing, her knowledge extending as far as movies such as The Mighty Ducks would afford. In fact, when she thought about it, she didn’t know anybody who played sports professionally in any capacity and so while she was intrigued by Chris and the story behind how he came to be in such a career in a city like New York (knowing him to be from Massachusetts originally), she also knew that he was so much more than all of the stereotypes she’d heard associated with professional athletes.

He wasn’t a big, dumb jock, far from it actually. Chris was incredibly intelligent, philosophical in ways she admired so much but with an endearing and quick sense of humour. His thirst for knowledge and appreciation for the world around him was unlike any she’d ever seen and it somehow made him more handsome than any of his classically good-looking physical features. There was an intrigue, of course, surrounding him and his job, but Rosie also knew that he would offer that part of himself to her in time and when he felt most comfortable doing so. She imagined that he didn’t always get to have the luxury of authentic meetings with people who didn’t already know about him and his job, and for all the lovely moments he’d already given her in their growing friendship, she wanted to pay him back in kind by not forcing anything on him that he wasn’t yet ready to talk about.

It was incredible really, how easy it was for her to fall into friendship with Chris, made only easier with each discovery of a new shared interest. Their texts would often consist of them sending things the other might find interesting such as a new book or a new song to listen to. Hearing from him was something that she found herself looking forward to, especially appreciating when he would take time out of his day while he was away from home to check in with her and catch up.

As the end of the semester creeped closer, Rosie found herself surrounded by gifts she had already wrapped ahead of her trip home and a small pile of clothes, the open suitcase on the bed still empty despite her best intentions. She always found packing incredibly dull (although admittedly not as bad as unpacking once she returned to New York) and would often preoccupy herself with anything and everything to avoid doing it, which always resulted in a stressful last-minute packing situation that she was keen to avoid this year. She stood with her hands on her hips as she surveyed the situation in front of her, deciding the best way in which to go about organising her suitcase, when her phone vibrated against her dressing table. Unable to contain the flicker of a smile that tugged at her mouth as she saw the Caller ID flash with Chris’s name, she answered.

“Hey, you.”

She could hear what sounded like a group of very rowdy men in the background in what she could only assume was a bar.

“I need you to help settle a debate.”

Rosie smiled as she cradled her phone between her cheek and her shoulder, using her free hands to pick up a pair of jeans and place them into the suitcase.

“Sounds serious.”

“Oh it is and we’re at a deadlock over here so your opinion decides it, I hope you can handle that kind of pressure,” Chris teased.

“Oh, Christopher, I was born ready.”

“Alright, but this is like legit serious stuff.”

“Out with it, Chris,” Rosie laughed.

“Crunchy or smooth?”

“Excuse me?” Rosie asked with an incredulous look on her face that she knew Chris would’ve laughed at had he been able to see her.

“Peanut butter,” he clarified. “Crunchy or smooth?”

“Wow,” Rosie deadpanned. “And here I was thinking you were about to ask me something incredibly philosophical.”

“Oh come on, Ro, don’t leave me hanging here.”

“I suppose if I had to choose, I’d probably go with smooth.”

“Ha!” Chris exclaimed, causing Rosie to jump. “She said smooth, looks like you’re the one with the weird peanut butter preferences, Foxy.”

Rosie furrowed her brow at the incoherent shouting and cheering in the background as she put more clothes into her suitcase.

“I’m so confused right now.”

She listened as the sound of raucous chatter faded into a faint buzz and Chris’s voice came back through the speaker clearer yet softer than it had been before.

“Sorry about that, the guys can get a little excitable sometimes.”

“Rookies had too many beers?”

“Yeah,” Chris breathed. “Something like that. How’re you doin’ anyway? Things settled for you at work?”

“Yeah,” she replied softly, perching herself on the edge of her bed, careful not to knock any of the small wrapped packages onto the floor. “I got all of those papers turned round and the results were actually kind of encouraging, which was nice.”

“That’s probably because they’ve got a good teacher.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Rosie blushed, thankful that he couldn’t see the interesting shade of pink her face had turned.

Chris’s reply was unexpected, somehow managing to knock her back a bit with the sincerity and softness in his tone that seemed more intimate than perhaps their current level of friendship afforded.

“I mean it, Ro. I know you know your stuff. They’re lucky to have someone like you teaching them.”

His words hung in the air around Rosie for a few seconds while she processed them, or rather, while she started to analyse the tenderness in his tone that she was sure she hadn’t imagined. He didn’t give her too long to get lost in it though as he was speaking again before she had a chance to truly unpack her thoughts.

“So things have settled down for you, yeah?”

“Um, yeah.. Yeah. I’ve just been packing for my trip back home,” Rosie replied, picking up one of the small gift-wrapped boxes and examining it for no particular reason.

“Right, of course. When is it you fly?”

“December twenty-first, fly back into JFK on the fourth of January.”

“I’ll be in California when you get back,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “But it’d be great to see you before you go to England. Maybe dinner or coffee?”

“That would be really nice, Chris,” the smile evident in her voice to Chris even through the phone.

“Great, we’ll arrange something once I’m back in the city at the end of the week.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Chris hesitated, not quite ready to say goodbye but knowing that he should probably get back to the others and leave Rosie to the rest of her evening. He knew he had to though, even if it did make his chest ache for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

“I’ll let you get on with your packing,” he half-sighed.

“Please don’t feel like you need to,” Rosie replied with the faintest hint of a plea.

“I do because if I don’t you’ll never finish packing your suitcase.”

There it was, that easy teasing that had become a defining feature of their friendship in just the few weeks they’d known each other and had managed to shift the atmosphere between them from something that neither could quite put their finger on to one that was much more playful and familiar.

Rosie groaned exaggeratedly, earning her a hearty chuckle from Chris.

“But I hate packing,” she whined.

“Welcome to being an adult, suck it up, Buttercup.”

“You’re mean.”

Despite her words, Chris knew that there was no truth in them and he also knew that she herself didn’t believe them, which made the playful back-and-forth banter between the two of them come easily.

“No, I’m Chris.”

“Oh my god!” Rosie laughed, exasperated. “I’m hanging up now, goodbye!”

Chris’s rich chuckle was the last thing she heard before she ended the call and tossed her phone onto her pillows, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of his humour before turning her attention back to the pile of clothes by her suitcase.

 *

Christmas went as quickly as it came, passing in such a blur that it had Rosie questioning if she’d had any time off at all. It didn’t take her long to settle back into the groove of things though, it never did, and by the time the frosts of winter began to thaw, the warm glow of the festive season was nothing more than a cheerful memory. Much like the first beautiful petals of spring, Chris and Rosie’s friendship continued to blossom.

Rosie would have been lying if she said that she didn’t wish their schedules would match up more. A particularly busy January for Chris meant that they hadn’t had chance to meet since just before Christmas and it had Rosie wondering just what exactly Chris’s job entailed. It wasn’t really something that had come up during their phone calls and it was something that she felt deserved to be done face-to-face rather than over a text message, because truth be told, she didn’t have the first idea when it came to ice hockey. Keen to know more about the man that was fast becoming somebody she considered to be a close friend, she resolved to ask him the next time they met for coffee.

“So are you ever going to tell me about this big, shiny career of yours or am I supposed to just keep thinking you’re some James Bond of professional hockey,” she mused as she broke off a piece of blueberry muffin and popped it into her mouth.

Chris blushed slightly as he took a drawn out sip of coffee.

“I mean, yeah, sure. What do you wanna know?”

He set his cup down and clasped his hands on the table in front of him, the flicker of nervousness extinguished quickly by the kindness that rested within her eyes.

“Well,” she started. “I believe I’ve mentioned before that the only hockey I knew of before meeting you was the field hockey they made us play at secondary school. So, everything I guess? Oh, and I’m going to need you to explain like I’m five.”

Chris couldn’t help but chuckle at the good-natured smirk on her face and ran a hand along the stubble at his jaw.

“Alright, well. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to start from the top. I played hockey in high school, then went to Boston College, they have a really good collegiate hockey programme there and it’s a good school to boot. I got drafted in 2009 by the New York Rangers then I signed my first contract with them in 2012, been here ever since.”

“So you must be bloody good at hockey then,” Rosie said after swallowing her coffee which made the pink tinge to Chris’s cheeks even more prominent.

“I mean, I’m not terrible.”

Rosie grinned at him and at his humility which she had come to know as being one of Chris’s prominent traits. “And your schedule? I know it’s a bit mental but what does an average day look like for you?”

“That depends,” Chris replied. “Are we talking an off-day? Game day? Away trip?”

“All of the above?” Rosie laughed.

“My days off I still like to get a work-out in, even if it’s just a small one. But other than that? I don’t know, maybe meet incredible women from Devon in bookshops?”

It was Rosie’s turn to have her cheeks flush, especially with the way Chris was looking at her with an unreadable look in his eyes. Chris continued though, despite the thundering in his chest at how beautiful she looked in that moment.

“Game days I’ll usually get up, go to practice. I try and take a nap in the afternoon before I have to go down to the Garden to get ready for the game and it’s much the same if I’m away on the road. We usually practice before we travel to wherever it is we’re headed.”

“That sounds incredibly full-on.”

“It is,” Chris agreed. “But it really makes you appreciate the time at home and the moments of stillness. Why’d you think I love getting lost in a good book so much?”

“Because, in the words of Dr Seuss, ‘the more you read, the more things you’ll know. The more you learn, the more places you’ll go.’”

Chris looked at her softly, a warm smile on his face. “Spoken like a true teacher.”

“So come on then,” she blushed, steering the conversation away from herself and back to him. “You went to Boston College, right? What did you end up studying?”

“Communications,” Chris said as he finished taking a sip of coffee. “I uh, it was really important to my mom for me to finish my degree so I kept plugging away at it even after I went pro.”

“Wow,” Rosie looked at him, clearly impressed. “That’s incredible, Chris. I mean, getting a degree is a hard enough slog when you’re doing it full time, but to do it while you’re travelling here there and everywhere? That’s no easy feat.”

It was Chris’s turn to blush now, too humble and too modest to be able to accept the praise Rosie was giving him.

“I knew how much it meant to my mom and I just wanted to make her happy, that and I was too stubborn to not finish something I’d started.”

“Your birthday is the end of April, right?” She said rather suddenly but as if something had clicked in the back of her mind.

“Yeah, April 30th. Why? You been googling me?”

“Oh it’s nothing really,” she said quickly, face flushing and suddenly aware of how stupid it would sound to him if she actually said it out loud. “And for the record, I haven’t googled you, I just remembered you mentioning your birthday last time we met up.”

“Nah, you can’t just do that,” he chuckled softly. “Come on, what were you gonna say?”

“Well,” she started, her fingers and eyes finding the coffee cup in front of her, anything to avoid the part where he looked at her like she was mad. “I was just gonna say that you really are a typical Taurus.”

Chris leaned forward in his seat, hands settling just shy of hers but the almost contact enough to make her skin spark.

“That so?” he mused. “You big into your astrology?”

“No, well yes, sort of,” she rushed and Chris could tell that she was almost ashamed of the admission. “I don’t read magazine horoscopes or anything like that because they really are a load of bollocks. But natal charts and stuff like that? I find them totally fascinating. I um, I’m kind of into crystal healing, I sage my apartment, I know it’s nuts.”

“No it’s not,” Chris took her hand then, the need to reassure her and ground her in a moment where she felt vulnerable and exposed. “Is it something that I believe in personally? No, not really. But truthfully I don’t know anything about it either. If it makes you happy then it really doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Maybe you could tell me more about it over dinner or something?”

Rosie looked at him thoughtfully, so appreciative of him in that moment and that ineffable gift of his to make her feel valued and listened to. It was that and all the other wonderful little facets of himself that he was showing her that had her agreeing to his proposal of dinner. She thought about the level of bravery that it must have taken for him to talk about that other side of his life, the side that she knew nothing about, no matter how small or trifling it might have seemed to anyone else. While she might not have had the first clue when it came to the sport or could even truly comprehend what Chris’s life was like, she understood that it must be incredibly difficult for somebody in his situation to forge true and meaningful relationships with people, friendly or otherwise, because when it feels like someone you have just met thinks they already know everything about you, it’s incredibly hard to let the guard come down and let people get close. That is what Chris appreciated the most about Rosie, though, the fact that she hadn’t the faintest idea who number 20 of the New York Rangers was. Every conversation they’d ever shared and every question she’d ever asked came from a genuine and altruistic desire to get to know him better. Even now, as she encouraged him to share that other part of him, that so many others defined him by, it came only from a place of pure and innocent curiosity. She asked about his job much in the same way she would ask an accountant or doctor about theirs.

Being able to have that conversation with her about his life and his job only served to strengthen the bond that they shared and he was incredibly thankful for Rosie’s understanding and willingness to fit her schedule and life around his. As the months passed and summer fast approached, Chris found himself for the first time reluctant to escape the stifling heat of the city after the season had ended. He was enjoying being able to spend more time with Rosie now that the school year had come to a close and he was shocked to learn that even after living in the city for close to six years at that point, she still hadn’t explored all of Manhattan. Their days were filled with walks around the West Village, Midtown or Tribeca and having lunches at tiny hole-in-the wall cafés where they would show each other the books they had picked up in whatever shop they’d found themselves in that morning.

It was that time shared together that made it incredibly easy for Rosie to become a stable fixture in Chris’s life with evenings spent at each other’s apartments having dinner and sharing wine. Rosie had learned quickly that Chris was a capable cook and Chris loved nothing more than when Rosie would cook pasta for him, even if it wasn’t exactly his nutritionist’s dream. It was easy to relax in that kind of way around her, forgetting the strict food regime every once in a while to really savour the beef ragu she made that he loved so much, always washed down with a couple of bottles of Sangiovese shared between them and finished with a homemade tiramisu. It was wholesome, much like she was with the softness of her curves and her insouciant attitude when it came to her looks. That was not to say that she didn’t make an effort, that wasn’t the case at all, for she would always look so put together and incredibly beautiful whenever Chris would see her, but she was the kind of woman who wouldn’t think twice about letting herself indulge in a slice of cake with her coffee or get too hung up on the calorie content of a pasta carbonara, which was a quality that Chris found to be both incredibly refreshing and endearing.

The natural quality of their relationship should have made it incredibly easy for Rosie to give in to those feelings she found beginning to settle in her chest. Chris was a wonderful man, that much was undeniably true and it should have been simple to confront the ache she felt whenever he went away. But if there was one thing Rosie had learned in her life, it was that if you expect too much, if you put people on pedestals that were too high, you would find yourself being disappointed. That was a simple fact of life. People were just that, people, capable of making mistakes. They were not divine beings, no matter how much we saw them as such through our own eyes. It was that idea alone that startled her; that a man such as Chris could be capable of disappointing her by the pure reasoning of the human condition and that was a thought that she couldn’t bear. So she pushed it down, down and down until it was quieter than a whisper. But even whispers can’t be ignored forever, and so with each comment from Chris’s friends about how happy he was since meeting her or each time her skin would spark at the feeling of his hand on the small of her back, the whisper grew, growing and growing with every team event she attended on his arm or every party he asked her along to, until it was a shout.

Relationships had never been something to come easy to Chris, he was too careful and too private; the gnawing feeling in his stomach that told him there was always some ulterior motive was often too arresting to ignore. It should have frightened him, the way Rosie came into his life and smashed through every wall he’d ever built without even doing much at all, but it didn’t. Rather than look at all the bricks and the rubble and be unnerved by the ease in which she was able to coax his vulnerability out of him, he found himself inspired, determined even, to build something truly beautiful with her. Chris knew that he would have to find a way to navigate these feelings with her, cognizant of the need to not throw her into the deep end and shock her system. Rosie deserved better than that because this wasn’t just about him and his feelings, it was about them and their relationship, what it was now and what it could be.

She was brilliant, in every way a person could be, beautiful and with a passion that glowed like the fiery tresses of her hair under a New York sunset. She was bold and sharp as a tack, keeping him on his toes in a way that no one else had ever been able to and he was sure that no one else would ever again. It was late night conversations where they were three bottles of wine deep talking about philosophy and ethics or her reading silently while he played guitar, it was listening to Pearl Jam with her whenever she cooked or Billy Joel when they were curled up together on the sofa, debating whether Radiohead or Nirvana was more influential in the grunge music scene. Hell, it was even looking up his birth chart, even though he didn’t believe in astrology, because there was just something about the way she said ‘You’re such a typical Sagittarius moon.’ Her warmth and her kindness always managed to ground him in moments where he would feel himself slipping, as sure as the moon rises and sets each night, especially once the season had restarted and those niggling insecurities would rear up and settle heavily in his chest, and yet he could tell that she never really knew the exact power that she held. She had his heart completely, whether she was aware of it or not and that was something that Chris hoped would never change. She’d slotted into his life like she had always belonged there, like she had always been there and that feeling only seemed to grow inside of Chris with every dinner they shared with his friends and every time he would see her face in the stands of MSG.

*

The week before Christmas brought an uncharacteristically early winter storm to New York unlike any Chris had ever seen throughout his whole time living there, forcing the city to a standstill and grounding flights, which meant that for the first time since moving to the States, Rosie wasn’t going to be home for Christmas. The idea of her spending the holiday alone in her apartment made Chris’s heart ache and so that was how Rosie ended up in his Tribeca apartment on Christmas Eve, bundled up with him on the sofa under a blanket, each with a mug of homemade mulled wine. The Muppet’s A Christmas Carol played quietly through the tv, one of Rosie’s Christmas Eve traditions that he would never dream of denying her, although, no matter what he would later admit to, he spent more time observing the gentle expression on her face as she got lost in the nostalgia of it all than he did actually paying attention to the screen. She felt him though, not even needing to take her eyes off the movie to know that he was watching her.

“You’re missing all the good bits,” she smirked.

“It’s okay, I’ve read the book. I know what happens.”

There was a slight grit to his tone that Rosie couldn’t quite place but crawled under her skin and kindled a small flame in her stomach all the same.

“But there were no Muppets in the book.” She turned to face him then and took in the expression within his eyes, darker than she’d ever seen them before. “Kermit really brings Dickens’ story to life.”

“I mean, Beaker steals it for me but we’ll agree to disagree.”

The air thickened around them and Rosie took a long sip of her wine, longer than perhaps she should have, but she needed to swallow away the tightness in her throat from the way Chris was looking at her. Like planets to a sun, Rosie found herself drawn to him, suddenly feeling him everywhere despite the fact they were at opposite ends of his couch. It was that gravity that had her shuffling towards him, crawling into his space in the same way she had crawled into his heart. He was warm, she thought, comfortingly so and the worn hoody on his body felt soft and had the familiar, soothing scent that was so uniquely Chris. Perhaps that is what had her curling into his side and resting her head on his shoulder and perhaps that new-found closeness was what had him pressing his lips into her hair.

There was no way either of them could deny what this was between them, the spark too bright to ignore. Rosie knew that they weren’t just friends, she knew that and she knew that Chris felt it too, that was why his face was turned towards hers, his lips impossibly close so that all she needed to do was tilt her head and give in to what her heart was crying out for. But her head was a cruel mistress indeed and it was that irrational but crippling fear of eventual disappointment that made her clear her throat and scoot back a shade, giving herself some much needed breathing room.

Chris exhaled quietly, the deflation leaving him on the breath. It was almost frustrating how close they were, the finish line within touching distance and yet they always seemed to stop short of it. Chris was there, he was there waiting and willing her to take those last few steps and cross it with him but he knew that he couldn’t force this, nor did he want to either. She had to want it for herself and Chris knew, as he looked at her sitting there chewing on her bottom lip with her brows knitted together in pensive thought, that she was worth the wait, even if it took a lifetime.

The post-holiday back to work rush was one that was felt universally. Those first few weeks always seemed to feel as though there was never enough hours in the day to get everything done and it was no different for Chris and Rosie, both caught up in their jobs to really sit and digest the moment between them at Christmas. Christmas Day had been incredibly busy with Chris hosting a couple of the younger players for dinner and no sooner had the festivities ended he was packing a bag ready to depart for Washington the following morning. They both knew that they had a lot of things to discuss, because that’s what adults did, they talked about their feelings in a healthy and open way, but as the busy-ness of their schedules ramped up, the hours slipped away and turned into days. Days spanned into weeks and weeks turned into months and before either of them knew it, the moment seemed so distant in the rear-view mirror, that it almost felt weird to bring it back up.

 *

The hockey season ended for Chris some time during May, the Rangers making it as far as the second round of the playoffs but unable to close it out after seven hard fought games. The disappointment sat heavy in his chest, much like it always did after losses like these, but he would have been a fool not to notice the way that it didn’t hang all about him in the way it had previous years. Of course, the wound still cut deep but without the festering ache of poison and he knew the antidote was the woman who had swept into his life nearly two years prior. 

It was remarkable really, how she came into his world like that. It was an event that Chris had always described as being purely serendipitous but the longer he spent with Rosie, the more he began to wonder if there was something else at play, hell, even fate perhaps. He had prided himself on being a shrewd man, his practicality something that had always defined him and guided his thoughts and actions, but whenever he thought about them and their relationship, he had to believe that it was more than just some happy accident. Rosie was pure magic, in every sense of the word, always having an uncanny ability to know what he needed before he even did and making him relax in ways he had never previously allowed himself to. It was cliché to say, but Chris genuinely believed that he had never lived until he met her and slowly, over the course of the last year, maybe even longer, the love songs on the radio made a little bit more sense and every love story he’d ever read sat a little bit differently in his heart. He knew that he was going to have to find a way to truly make her his, because despite all of the times where he felt like he could’ve just grabbed her face and kissed her, despite all of the unspoken feelings that had surfaced at Christmas, and despite the fact that they hadn’t yet managed to talk about them, the dynamic between them both after their almost kiss hadn’t changed at all except in the small way that he found himself having to stop himself from holding her in the way that he wanted to more often than not.

He thought about the one night she’d almost burst with excitement over their dinner at her apartment when he told her he had finally sat down and read Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, remembering the wind-scattered waves in her eyes and so sure that if anyone was brave enough to enter their depths, all else would blur and they would fall so deeply in love that they’d choose to stay there, no matter what, because he knew for certain that he had befallen that very fate. He recalled thinking that if that was the last thing he was to ever see, he would surely die a happy man. She had recited her favourite quote to him that he thought to be beautiful at the time but now hitting him like a freight train and knocking all of the wind out of his sails. It crawled through his skin and into his veins until he felt it coursing through his body until it had made a home within his very soul:

‘Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body… for that is just being in love, which any of us can convince ourselves that we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away.’

It was those words that had his feet carrying him to his car and those words that had him driving from his apartment to her home in Brooklyn and it was those words that had him standing outside of her front door ready to offer his heart to her. He knocked, more out of habit than anything, the key she had given him a few months ago being turned over between his fingers as he waited and the anxiety beginning to rise with each second that passed without her appearing at the door. He exhaled before finally putting the key into the lock, certain that she was home despite the fact that his visit was unplanned and unannounced.

“Rosie?” he called out into the hallway. “Are you there?”

The silence was unsettling and completely uncharacteristic, made worse by the fact that her car was parked outside in its usual spot and the fact that he could’ve sworn she’d mentioned during their phone call the night before that she was planning on having a day at home to do laundry and catch up on all of those less-important chores she didn’t have the time to do during the school year. 

‘Maybe she’s not home after all’, he thought after a couple of minutes without a reply, more to soothe his own anxiety more than anything else. ‘She’s obviously decided to go out for a walk somewhere. That must be it.’ He was just about to turn away and leave, suddenly aware of how intrusive his presence in her home was when she clearly wasn’t there, when he was certain he heard her voice call his name.

“Rosie?”

A sob drifted down the hallway, muted but no less full of raw pain and anguish that had his legs carrying him towards the sound in big, long strides until it brought him to her bedroom where the door stood slightly ajar. He slowly pushed it open with an exhale of a breath he hadn’t felt being held within his lungs and his heart lurched at the sight of her curled up on her bed sobbing into her pillow. To go to her was instinctive, his soul called out to hers in a desperate attempt to soothe whatever pain she was in and he found himself kneeling at the side of her bed with his long fingers smoothing back the titian strands that had fallen into her face and clung to her tears.

“Ro, what happened?”

She didn’t answer him, couldn’t answer him, in fact, and so he moved onto the bed, gathering her up into his arms and held her close to his chest while he rubbed circles on her back, murmuring softly into her hair to try and still her sobs. He felt the way she clung on to him like she was drowning and he was the life-preserver and pressed gentle kisses against her forehead until her crying was no more than quiet sniffles.

“Rosie, sweetheart, talk to me. What happened? Are you okay?”

“My grandma,” she choked out against the fabric of his t-shirt. “My grandma died.”

Chris closed his eyes and exhaled as the second wave of tears took her, holding her steadfast against him and saying nothing other than reassuring her that he was there for her. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that for, with her still impossibly close to him long after she’d finished crying herself hollow, until after the tears had dried and all that was left was the crippling deadweight of grief. It was Chris that spoke out into the new but deafening silence, his voice barely audible and a little rough from his own emotion that sat threateningly high in his throat.

“I’m so sorry, Rosie…”

The tiny exhale that passed Rosie’s lips had Chris’s heart breaking in two for her. Her reply small and full of defeat. “She’d had dementia for a while… Didn’t really know who any of us were,” she sniffled, dangerously close to losing it again. “Every time I went back home it was like she had to learn who I was all over again. I know that this was the kindest thing to happen but-”

Chris kissed her forehead as she choked back a sob, a wordless assurance that she didn’t need to say another word and a quiet understanding of the pain and emptiness that she was drowning in. 

“When are you flying home?” He murmured softly.

“I’m going to try and get a flight home for tomorrow, Thursday at the latest.”

“It’s gonna be expensive to try and get something that short notice, Ro.”

“That’s why I have savings,” Rosie gave a small, almost robotic shrug as she wiped her face, the emotion quickly being forced back down into her stomach as she turned her focus towards the things that she could control to keep herself from spiralling into hysterics again. “In case of an emergency.”

“Let me pay for your flight home,” Chris offered. “Please, it’s the least I can do.”

“You know I can’t accept that, honey.”

Chris had been friends with Rosie long enough to be familiar with the fact she often used terms of endearment whenever she was talking to him, but even now, especially now, with all those feelings of complete clarity about her and about them and their relationship that sat in his chest, it still managed to knock him back a bit and make his heart swell even in a moment as awful as this one. 

“Why not?”

He knew that this was a situation where he shouldn’t push too hard, that she would either pull away from him or direct all of that grief and emotion his way, like a cornered animal seconds away from deciding whether to fight or bolt. He knew he shouldn’t push this but he needed to do something, the overwhelming demand coming from his heart to make this right and fix this for her too much to ignore.

“Because I’m not your problem, Chris,” Rosie said, completely deflated. “Because this doesn’t need to be your problem.”

“I want to help, Ro, please. Please let me help. Please let me help fix this.” He was pleading with her and while a part of Rosie understood his desire to make this better for her, the swirling hurricane of emotions inside of her was reaching a fever pitch and, unable to make sense of it all, she found herself directing her howling gales towards the one thing she should have been holding on to.

“This isn’t something you can fix, Chris! You can’t fix this, you can’t make this right and you can’t bring her back!”

She stood with her fists balled tightly, the pain on her face as she sobbed and the realisation that she was right cutting through Chris like a knife. He had never been one to lose his nerve in a crisis, always the dependable one, always the stoic one. He was the guy people could rely on when things were shitty and it was something he prided himself on, but seeing her in front of him, shattered and in agony, knowing that he would have to sit this one out until she’d had a chance to process everything, left him feeling weak and powerless.

He watched her in stunned silence, unable to articulate feelings that he couldn’t make sense of. She was standing no more than three meters away from him but the distance between them felt like it stretched light-years. He couldn’t let her go to England with that hanging between the two of them, that ocean that would separate them felt like she would slip into another universe entirely and leave him with too much uncertainty about how things would be once she got back to New York. She didn’t give him a choice, though, her voice sounding abstract and unlike her own as she spoke into the void between them.

“I’m sorry, I just… I think I need to be alone right now. I need to wrap my head around this and it,” she paused for a moment, a shaky sigh filling the space. “It’s not fair on you for me to throw my emotions at you like this.”

“Rosie,” he spoke her name like a prayer, an oblique supplication that she heard but couldn’t accept.

“Please, Christopher. I know that you just want to help and, Christ, I appreciate you so much but I can’t accept your money, that’s just not my way, and I need to process this in my own way. I promise you though, I’ll let you know when I’m leaving for the UK and I swear that I’ll keep in touch.”

He hated it, all of it, but he loved her and he knew that she needed this, no matter how much it killed him to have to let her do things her own way. So that’s how he found himself nodding and respecting her request before folding her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple that he hoped would convey all of the affection and love that he held for her. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to cry as he drove back to his apartment and prayed to whoever was listening that she would be okay and that they would be okay, because if he lost that magic, if he lost her, he would have nothing.

It was two days later when Rosie reached out to say that she was at the airport waiting for her flight back to England, those forty-eight hours without talking to her the longest he’d ever endured. She assured him that while she was still not in a great place herself, that they were okay and that she appreciated everything he had offered to do for her. The messages were shorter than Chris was used to but it did help to make that feeling of distance between them feel a little less insurmountable than before.

*

June would usually have him heading to his coastal home in Connecticut or making the trip back to Massachusetts to be with his family, but he instead found himself lingering in New York, although with Rosie in England indefinitely he wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t committed to definite summer plans. If he really thought about it, though, really gave it more than a second’s thought and was completely honest with himself, he knew that he was waiting for her. He didn’t want to go home to Boxford and for her to come back to a city without him there. He wanted to be the one to welcome her back, pick her up from the airport and wrap her up in a hug that would have her never doubting how he truly felt about her. But really, when he spent time dissecting that desire to be there for her when she got back to New York, it actually stemmed from a desire to be with her, period. That was what had him picking up the phone and scrolling through his contacts, not even giving it a second thought when he hit that ‘call’ button but the guilt instantaneous when a sleepy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I completely forgot about the time difference,” Chris exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You never call without texting first. What’s on your mind?”

Chris sighed into the receiver, using the pause to gather his thoughts into some kind of semblance of coherence rather than dumping them all out in one go.

“I don’t even fucking know anymore, Mika.”

Mika’s tone shifted as the last remnants of sleep fell away, taking on the familiar quality that seemed to be reserved only for Chris. “Did something happen between you and Rosie?”

“Not really?” Chris offered, unsure of the answer to Mika’s question himself. “It’s just… It feels wrong, all of this.”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. What feels wrong? I thought you loved her.”

“That’s just it, Mika,” Chris exhaled. “I do, fuck, I love her so much and the fact that she’s there and I’m here-”

Chris’s deep sigh through the receiver had Mika sitting up in bed, his next words spoken with such a surety as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So go to her.”

“What?”

Mika laughed so softly that it was barely audible, shaking his head despite Chris not being able to see him.

“Y’know, for someone so smart you really are dumb sometimes.”

“Okay, first of all, ouch,” Chris grumbled. “Second of all, rude. Thirdly, what’re you getting at exactly?”

“What I’m getting at,” groused Mika, too tired from being woken up in the wee hours of the morning to have any great level of patience. “Is that you should book a flight and get your ass to the UK.”

“Just like that? Just go?”

“Yes, Jesus, Chris. I don’t know what else you want me to say, man, it’s three in the morning here and Irma will kick my ass if I wake her up.”

“Right, yeah,” Chris mumbled, the guilt at waking up his friend rearing its head again. “Sorry, I know I shoulda thought about the time difference.”

“The only reason you have to be sorry is if you don’t pack a bag as soon as we’re done talking and go get on the next fucking plane to England.”

Chris paused, long enough to gather his thoughts but not long enough for Mika to be concerned.

“I guess I’ll let you know when I land then.”

“Give her a hug from me, Chris,” Mika said with complete sincerity.

“‘Course I will, and Mika?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, man.”

Mika smiled into the darkness of his bedroom before answering softly, “anytime.”

 *

Chris had never been to England before and he wasn’t afraid to admit that his geography knowledge of the country was somewhat lacking, so to say that this trip was going to be a baptism of fire would have been entirely accurate. He was a confident enough driver, if he were to say so himself, but he’d have been a big fat liar (to put it in Rosie’s words) if he didn’t admit that the prospect of driving the 160 miles from London Heathrow to Exeter, on the wrong side of the road he might add, filled him with a little bit of dread. But if there was a woman worth braving the complete absurdity of a roundabout for, it was Rosie.

He couldn’t help but feel like he was going behind her back a little bit, using the excuse of wanting to send flowers to her as a means to get her parents’ address when he’d spoken to her on the phone the previous morning. He hoped that she would be able to forgive his little deception and see the purity of his intentions behind it, although he did pick up some flowers on the way to her parents’ house from the small hotel he was staying at, wanting to fulfil that part of the bargain at least. His heart thundered in his chest as he turned into a quiet residential street that the GPS was signalling as being his destination. He pulled up outside the house, checking, double checking and triple checking that he had the right address before he shut off the car engine and got out, grabbing the large bouquet of flowers off the back seat. He can’t ever remember a time that his palms were this clammy or where his legs felt like they were about to give way from under him quite like they did at that moment as he walked up the short driveway to the front door.

He rubbed his free hand on the front of his jeans, taking a settling breath before he knocked on the door, unsure of what to expect when it opened. His eyebrows raised in surprise when an older looking gentleman answered, who looked equally surprised to see a slightly dishevelled looking, six foot three stranger on his doorstep.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Chris spoke, thankful that he was at least able to find his strong voice despite the distraction of his heart hammering in his chest.

“Alright there, mate?” the man greeted, with an accent that Chris noted to be far stronger than Rosie’s. “You lost or summat?”

“I hope not,” Chris laughed more out of nerves than anything else. “I’m actually here to see Roseanna.”

He hadn’t meant to sound so unsure of himself, his statement coming out as more of a question and nothing at all like his normal confident self. The older man didn’t seem to pay too much notice to it though, instead breaking into a smile that Chris recognised as being near enough identical to Rosie’s and gestured for him to come inside the house. 

“She’s just got back from walkin’ the dog, I’ll get ‘er for you.”

Chris watched as the man disappeared the short way down the hallway and called Rosie’s name into the kitchen, unable to stop the grin from forming on his face as he heard her voice reply to the man he had assumed to be her father.

“Someone’s ‘ere to see you, love, what? No, I don’t know who he is… maybe one of your university mates,” he turned back to give Chris a friendly nod before adding, “she’ll be right with you.”

Sure enough, no sooner were the words out of his mouth did Rosie appear in the doorway at the end of the hall, all red cheeks and light freckles from the sunshine. She stopped dead in her tracks, her face switching from total surprise at the sight in front of her to overwhelming joy before finally settling on complete disbelief at the realisation that Chris was standing right in front of her in the home she grew up in. Her legs instinctively carried her into his waiting arms, tears starting to fall before she could even register what was happening. Chris was certain that he would never forget the way she held onto him in that moment, with her face buried into his chest and her arms tight around his back.

“What are you doing here?” She finally managed, bringing her teary eyes up to meet Chris’s. “How? When?”

His only response was to kiss her forehead sweetly, holding her against his body like she was about to float away.

“I wanted to be here for you. I know you have your family but, God, it just didn’t feel right to be back in New York.” He stepped back from her a fraction so that he could offer the blooms he was still holding to her. “And I believe I promised you some flowers.”

“I thought you were sorting them with a local florist not travelling across the Atlantic to hand deliver them,” she laughed through her tears, a hand coming up to whack his chest lightly. “You are completely ridiculous, Christopher James Kreider.”

“Anything to see you smile, Ro.”

He kissed her hair before taking her outstretched hand and followed her as she led him into the kitchen to meet her family for the first time.

 *

The next few days had Chris feeling a little bit like a spare part. Rosie and her family were busy with the last minute preparations for the funeral and Chris wished that he could do more to help out but, just like always, Rosie managed to allay his worries and settle his heart by assuring him that his presence alone was enough. They’d spent their free time taking in the sights of South Devon, Rosie relishing the opportunity to show him around the place she grew up and all of her favourite spots. He particularly enjoyed the day they spent down in a place called Torquay, the beauty of the ocean and the way the sun kissed her hair had him feeling bold enough to reach for her hand as they walked along the sea-front while enjoying an ice cream each.

On the day of the funeral, Chris made himself completely indispensable to Rosie and her family, nothing being too much trouble. He held Rosie tightly throughout the ceremony, never once letting her go and whispered words of comfort to her as she said her final goodbyes to the grandmother she loved so much before they exited the church. He stayed by her side throughout the wake at her request. The emotional rawness of the day had her feeling more vulnerable than she would have liked but there was something about the way Chris’s hand rested above her knee as they sat around the table that had her feeling more grounded and centred than she knew she would’ve been had he not been there. It was easy for her to go back to Chris’s hotel with him, the emotions of the day still weighed heavy on her and she couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping alone.

The gravity of those feelings wasn’t lost on Rosie and she knew that sooner or later she’d have to really take a step back and take a good look at her relationship with Chris and what it all meant. It was easier to be dishonest with herself and keep up the pretence that they were just friends because if she let herself think about them being anything else for too long she would feel her chest tighten and hear her heart start to whoosh in her ears. Was it childish? Absolutely, but she’d be damned if she let herself get hurt by a man again. Her self-preservation mechanism had been working like a charm so far and if it wasn’t broken then why fix it? It wasn’t completely infallible though and after two bottles of Chianti and the way the lamplight accentuated the softness in his eyes, Rosie found herself slipping. 

“What’s on your mind?” He whispered, fingers finding her chin to bring her thousand yard stare away from the wall and back to his searching gaze.

“Everything,” she sighed softly. “It’s loud in my head tonight.”

“Is there one thing in particular that you can pick out?”

He took the wine glass that she was cradling and set it down on the table, taking her hands in his and rubbing his thumbs gently across her knuckles.

“Not really, today has just been a lot.”

Chris nodded in understanding, not wanting to pry further and cognizant of the emotional strenuity of the day. Instead he pulled her closer, nestling her into his side and pressing a gentle kiss to her hair.

“I still can’t believe you came all this way for me,” she murmured.

“Why darling,” Chris started, Rosie immediately recognising the quote as being Hemingway. “I don’t live at all when I’m not with you.”

She tilted her head up towards him, her lips impossibly close to his as her fingers danced along the stubble at his jaw and swallowed down the nerves that had lodged in her throat. She closed her eyes, so close to giving in to her heart and letting it win, for better or worse. Chris had been dreaming of this moment though, longing for it with every close call and missed opportunity. This is how it should’ve been at Christmas and all of the team events he’d the delight of having her on his arm, but instead he let himself chicken out, the fear of spooking her and losing her too much to allow himself to take the risk. But now, he had Rosie right there. She was impossibly close and all around him and he knew that if he didn’t take that leap and place his lips on hers, he might never get that chance again and that is what had him brushing his lips lightly across hers, his fingers finding a home amongst the loose copper curls that were glowing like hot coals in the low light of the room.

Instinct took over and had Rosie arching her body into him, her hands reaching up into his hair to muss the short curls. Even with her body pressed against his, Chris needed her closer, his big arms looping around her and pulling her into his lap. He kissed her desperately, a kiss to make up for all the kisses they should have already shared and all the words that should have been spoken. It should have terrified him, how easy it was to be with her like this and how easy the push and pull of it was, neither taking more than they were giving in the moment. This was what Boris Pasternak meant when he said ‘you and I, it’s as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent to Earth together to see if we know what we were taught., Chris was sure of it because nothing could compare to how Rosie’s lips felt against his and the feeling of her hands on his skin. Her kiss was heaven and her eyes felt like home and Chris knew in that moment that he needed all of her.

As he carried her to bed, Rosie thought about how right being in his arms felt. It was a strong sense of belonging that she couldn’t ever remember having with anyone else - ‘whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same’, she thought. He spoke her name against her ear like a prayer, all the love and want for her conveyed in one simple word while he removed her dress with tender hands. Her body was laid on display for him like a canvas, his mouth was the paintbrush and Chris knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life painting a masterpiece onto her skin with his lips.

They moved together between the sheets as sure as the gentle waves that lap against the shore, her hands never feeling more at home than they did running up his back and over his shoulders before settling against the broad plains of his chest. Her every breath and every moan sounded like an aria to his ears and his name tumbling from her lips with every thrust of his hips was met with a moan of hers. He thought she could never look as good as she did underneath him, blooming like a rose, until he found himself on his back with her above him, her hair falling around them both like a curtain and her mouth panting against his as she rolled her hips. His hands made a home at the dip of her waist, guiding her in her movements but never taking the reins from her, giving her the control they both knew she needed in the moment.

It was intuitive, really, the way she was rocking her hips into his and the steady build of pressure in her stomach had her chanting Chris’s name like an incantation. He saw on her face the exact moment that the coil snapped, moaning as she fluttered and tightened around him and brought his hips up to meet hers as she rode the wave of her orgasm.

“I’m with you,” he murmured against her neck.

“Please, Chris. I need you.”

“I’ve got you, Ro. I’ve got you.”

She turned her face to meet his lips in a deep kiss, Chris moaning into her mouth as he spilled inside of her with stuttering hips. Rosie let out a contented sigh as she kissed him through his release, her chest pressed against his and her fingers playing with whatever ends of his hair she could reach. They stayed that way long after he’d gone soft inside of her, content to just bask in the afterglow of the moment as Chris’s fingers traced up and down her back. Rosie knew that she needed to have a frank discussion with Chris about her feelings but now didn’t seem like the right time for that. The sudden realisation that things would never be the same and that there was no going back to the way things were after this embedded itself like a seed, but Rosie let herself surrender to the feeling of safety and security Chris’s arms offered her before it could take root. She nestled herself against his side, her head resting on his chest with her eyes closed, and let his heartbeat be the gentle lullaby to lead her into the beautiful twilight.

 *

Chris awoke to the feeling of Rosie snug and secure within his arms, a peaceful look resting on her features that gave her an angelic quality. He let his mind wander to the night before and allowed the love he felt for her run wild through his veins and fill every corner of his mind, body and soul. For so long it had just been him and hockey, never subscribing to the idea that a person needed a relationship to be complete. But as he looked down and saw his entire world resting within his arms, he realised that he had been right all along. It wasn’t a relationship that made a person complete. It was love. That all-consuming wildfire that burns everything else away until there is nothing left but a new-beginning. He remembered the quote from Corelli that Rosie loved so much and felt everything fall into place. He felt like he’d waited a million years for this feeling and now that he felt it consume him like wildfire, he knew that he would have waited a million more, just as long as he had the privilege of being hers. It was surrendering all that he had ever been for everything that she was, for every kiss and every touch. Her love was his turning page and loving her was the greatest and best thing that he would ever do in his life, he was sure of it.

He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, eyes crinkling with his smile as she stirred.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he whispered against her hair. “You sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” she croaked, voice still thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

Chris looked over her shoulder at the clock on the nightstand. “Just gone eight-thirty.”

“Oh, okay.”

She furrowed her brows again, suddenly feeling Chris everywhere as pieces of the night before flooded her consciousness as she fully emerged from sleep and into the waking world. She was naked, she registered, and so was he and she was blindsided by an abrupt awareness that a definite line had been crossed that they could never go back from. It was that recognition of their friendship never being the same again that had her rolling away from Chris without warning. She was out of bed before he could even register what was happening, gathering up her clothes and dressing quickly without as much as a word.

“Rosie?” Chris was sitting up now, a slight waver to his voice as he spoke her name. “What are you doing?”

“I have to go,” she mumbled, an almost robotic edge to her tone that had Chris jumping out of bed and throwing on a pair of sweatpants, already catching up to her racing thoughts without her needing to say another word. He rushed to the door that she was making a beeline for, stepping in front of it and reaching desperately for her hands.

“Don’t do this, Ro… Please, don’t run from this.”

“Chris,” she warned, the emotion sitting dangerously high in her throat and her eyes glossing over with tears.

“What’re you so afraid of? I know you feel it too, Rosie. I know you do.”

“Chris, please,” she tried to brush past him but Chris wouldn’t let this moment slip through his fingers, not this time.

“No, we’re not doin’ this anymore. We’re not gonna spend the rest of our lives pretending that we’re just friends because we’re not, Rosie. I don’t think we have been for a long time- look at me, Ro, please.”

Chris saw the flicker of hesitation cross her face but the desperation in his voice was too much for her to ignore. She brought her eyes up to meet his and saw a fire burning within them that she had never seen before.

“I love you, Rosie. You have to know that by now.”

She shook her head vehemently, the tears she had managed so far to keep at bay finally slipping out and onto her cheeks.

“Don’t,” she whimpered. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Who says I don’t mean it?” He brought his hands to cup her face to keep her eyes on him. “You? Do you think I’d travel across an ocean to be here with you now if I didn’t love you?”

Rosie answered only with a sniffle, the feeling of his touch along her skin anchoring her in a moment where she felt like she was drowning in a sea of every repressed emotion and feeling from the last eighteen months.

“But what if this doesn’t work? What if we’re better as friends?”

“I know you don’t believe that,” he wiped away the tears on her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “I know that you’ve been hurt before and I know that you’re scared. But you can’t keep holding on to the past, Ro, because if you do you’ll miss out on what’s right in front of you.”

“It’s not the loving you part that’s hard Chris,” she whispered. “It’s admitting to myself that it happened at all that is. I’ve had all these defences that have worked to keep me from getting hurt for so long but it was like you didn’t even see them at all, like they were meant for others while you had your very own door. I’ve spent so long asking myself why that is and come up with nothing. Do you know how terrifying that is?”

He kissed her forehead softly in response before pulling back to look into her eyes, making sure that she saw him, felt him, heard him. “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

The corners of Rosie’s mouth quirked up into a smile despite her tears and her doubts, her favourite passage from Pride and Prejudice never sounding as good as it did coming from Chris’s mouth and extinguishing every fear she was holding within her heart. She closed her eyes and nodded, her lips connecting with his in a kiss that could’ve stopped the world from turning. She gave herself to him completely and surrendered to the overwhelming love that burned within her for him. There were no words that could convey to Chris just how much he meant to her but she hoped that ones from Rupi Kaur would do it justice:

“You might not have been my first love, but you were the love that made all the other loves irrelevant.”

Chris smiled against her mouth and kissed away every fear and worry until there was nothing left but him and her and the love they had for each other.

 *

Life continued much as it had before, a testament really to the relationship that Chris and Rosie already shared and the official label did nothing more than earn them a chorus of “it’s about time” from their friends and had Mika looking incredibly smug for the next few months. The passage of time only served to make their relationship stronger, both able to give themselves completely without the uncertainty of their feelings looming over them or holding them back. Rosie often found herself being struck by the easiness of their relationship and she never once found herself questioning Chris’s commitment to her and what they had. When he asked her how she would feel about ending the lease on her Brooklyn apartment and moving into his place in Manhattan she didn’t have to give it a second thought. Everything about it felt natural and they were both ready to take that next defining step in their relationship. Once Rosie’s belongings and houseplants were moved in, Chris couldn’t help but feel as if they had always been there, like his apartment was finally complete and that it was the home he had always imagined it would eventually be.

Of course, there were bumps in the road, both of them had been on their own for so long that they were set in their ways at first, but their disagreements never lasted long, their shared knack for communication often diffusing the situation before it had chance to grow arms and legs. The adjustment was harder for Chris in some ways, especially when things on the ice weren’t going so well and he would retreat into himself or misdirect his frustrations towards Rosie with a sharper tone than was necessary, but she stood firm, never one to suffer fools and for that Chris was eternally grateful. They complimented each other in ways they couldn’t even have imagined, Chris able to pull Rosie out of her own head when the world weighed heavy on her shoulders and Rosie never afraid to put Chris in his place when he needed it. As the months rolled into years and their love went from strength to strength, Chris knew for certain that she was it for him and there was nothing he wanted more than to start and end the day with Rosie for all of the days to come.

 *

Rosie looked at Chris with confusion as their Uber pulled up outside Westsider Books one early September evening. There was a faint glow of lights inside but it didn’t look as if the shop was open and Rosie couldn’t understand why Chris had brought her here when she was sure they closed at five.

“I didn’t realise this place opened late,” she said as Chris opened her car door and offered his hand to help her out of the car.

“I think it’s just a one-time thing,” he replied as he thanked the driver and closed the door. He placed a hand on the small of Rosie’s back and guided her towards the shop entrance, pushing the door open and gesturing for Rosie to go in ahead of him. Rosie wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting to find inside, but hundreds of glittering fairy lights, candles and more flowers than she could count wasn’t even on the list.

“Chris?” she breathed, turning to look at him.

“If you were to list your top three favourite books of all time off the top of your head,” he started, wrapping his arms around her waist. “What would they be?”

“Christopher…”

“Come on, Ro,” he grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way she loved so much. “Just... play along… Please, for me?”

“Alright, well…” she conceded with a gentle sigh. “Off the top of my head I would probably say Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, For Whom the Bell Tolls and Pride and Prejudice.”

Chris’s smile somehow managed to double in size, the soft glow of the string lights and candles had his eyes sparkling like smoky quartz, the lush green flecks that usually lived among the dark bark of his irises hidden by the low light. He knew she would say that, of course, knowing her with an intimacy that even after all their years of friendship and the years of loving her still managed to knock him back a bit. He took her hand then, leading her along the aisle before stopping in front of a shelf with a dozen hand-tied sunflowers. He reached out and took a book from the shelf.

“Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières,” he murmured, passing the book to Rosie with an easy grin. “Go on, open it.”

He watched as she opened the cover of the book, her face softening at the sight of a delicate pendant necklace nestled between the pages. A small silver fern leaf hung at the end of the thin chain, a nod to the many houseplants she had brought into his home when she moved in that he had playfully grumbled about but in all actuality loved.

“Chris, it’s beautiful.”

He gently took the necklace from her hands and spun Rosie around, draping the chain across her chest and fastening it behind her neck with sure fingers before turning her back to face him, his eyes falling to the pendant that glimmered in the low light of the room.

“It looks gorgeous on you,” he smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Right, what was the next book? For Whom the Bell Tolls, right?”

“Chris, what is all this?” Rosie asked softly, taking Chris’s outstretched hand and following him down the next aisle to another shelf. He ignored her question, simply picking up the book and handing it to her.

“I love that you love Hemingway almost as much as I do,” he whispered softly. “Almost. You have no idea how much it means to me that I get to share that enjoyment with you and I want us to keep making memories together and sharing enjoyment of the things we love.” He watched her expectantly, waiting for her to open the book to reveal the piece of paper he’d folded in there. He took the book from her hands so that she could open it.

Rosie’s eyes widened as she read what she realised to be an itinerary for a trip to Europe next summer.

“I’ve only been to a couple of places in Europe,” Chris started. “And I figured who better to show me around than the girl who’s visited near enough every country on that continent?”

Rosie was unable to contain her sniffles by this point, overwhelmed at the thought and preparation that Chris had put in, not only in the trip to Europe, but this whole evening as well. She shook her head gently as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest.

“This is too much, Chris, you shouldn’t have.”

He pulled back from her just far enough to get her eyes on his, his face set with an expression that held all the love in the world.

“Ah, ah, there’s still one more book, which if I’m not mistaken is your all-time favourite and you, Roseanna Williams, are worth all the good things in this world.”

Her slung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side as they walked back towards the front of the shop, Rosie gently wiping the tears away from her eyes. Pride and Prejudice sat pride of place in the middle of a small table, the book surrounded by petals. Chris gave her an encouraging look and stepped back as she picked it up, taking a small envelope from out of the book before setting it back down again. Her eyes found her name on the front of the envelope in Chris’s unmistakable handwriting before turning it over in her hands and opening it, pulling out what appeared to be a letter. She took a steadying breath as she began to read.

My dearest Rosie,

There will never be the words to adequately express just how much you mean to me or how grateful I am to have found you. You are everything that I didn’t even know I was searching for, that I didn’t even know I needed.

I never believed in fate, every happy accident is just that. A happy accident. Coincidence. Right place, right time. But you, you have opened my eyes to the idea of pure magic because how can a love like ours be founded on pure coincidence alone? How can a soul yearn for someone they had never met? I know now that the reason I found myself in this very book store on that day you came into my life was because your soul was calling me here.

In you I have everything I’ll ever need. No matter where my career takes me, no matter what lies ahead, as long as I have you I have everything. I love you more than anything else in this world, you have given me a higher purpose and I will spend the rest of my life making you happy if you’ll let me.

All my love, Always

Chris

We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright - E. Hemingway.

Rosie closed her eyes and let her tears fall onto her cheeks as she clutched the letter to her chest.

“Chris…”

“I’m gonna need you to open your eyes, babe,” Chris chuckled softly.

Rosie smiled as she allowed her eyes to drift open, her hand immediately coming up to her mouth as she stifled an unexpected sob at the sight of Chris down on one knee in front of her, a ring box open in his hand that looked as if it contained an entire galaxy of glittering stars.

“Ro, I can’t even remember what my life was like without you in it, I didn’t even know that I was in the dark. Until I saw your smile. It was only then that I realised and now I never want to live a single day without the warmth and light of your love. It’s us, babe. It’s always been us and it’s always been you, since the day we met. I didn’t even realise I was waiting for you and now that I have you, everything is as it should be. I love you, Rosie. I’ve always loved you and I would be the happiest and luckiest man on Earth with you as my wife. Marry me, babe?”

Rosie sank slowly to her knees in front of Chris, her hands reaching up and cupping his face as her tears fell. In front of her was a man who had given her everything, who had helped her to let go of the past and right now, he was offering her a future brighter and more wonderful than anything she could’ve ever imagined and never dared to dream she would have.

“Oh god, please tell me those are happy tears.”

She cut him off with a kiss, a kiss that gave Chris his answer without her even needing to say it. She kissed him with everything she had, kissed him with all of the love that coursed through her veins, kissed him until her lungs were gasping for air and she finally had to pull away, resting her forehead against his with her hands stroking along his jaw.

“Yes,” Rosie whispered. “A million times, yes.”

As Chris slid the ring onto Rosie’s finger, he took the opportunity to look into those eyes of hers that he’d grown to love so much. It was there that he saw their future, all of their hopes and dreams and the promise of all the joy in their lives that was to come and as her arms wrapped tightly around him, Chris felt their souls sigh as they folded into one another. Chris couldn’t tell what the future had in store for them both, but no matter where their path together would lead them, it was in her embrace that he found solace and it was in her heart that he found a home.

#chris kreider #chris kreider fic #nhl fic #nhl fiction #nhl fanfiction #chris kreider x ofc #nhl writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fiction #chris & rosie #turning page universe #my writing

[sneezefiction]

of night owls & early birds

Kuroo x Reader

desc: Kuroo, your roommate and longtime best friend, likes you but he really dislikes your sleep schedule. alternatively, your crush gets up way too early and you “suffer the consequences.”

a/n: the irony of working on this fic at 5 am doesn’t escape me… but it also hasn’t assuaged my awful sleep patterns. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: school/general anxiety, crass/offbeat humor (jokes about planning your own funeral), idk if you’re scared of love don’t read this - it’s very fluffy.

wc: 3.6k

--- You’re screwed, you think, as a light flickers on just outside of your room. It illuminates the carpet underneath your doorway with a warm orange tint.

And though it shouldn’t make your heart jump into your throat, it does.

You’d promised, swore to Kuroo, that you’d be asleep by 2 am - and to him, even that was a stretch. But he should count himself lucky that you’d even agreed to his demands at all. 

After all, he is well-versed in the world of night owls.

Kenma, though maybe not your kindred spirit, shares at least a couple of qualities with you. Kuroo likes refer to these “qualities” as crimes.

One of these crimes (and quite possibly Kuroo’s least favorite) is your god-awful sleep schedule. And you’re a repeated offender.

There was only so much nagging and bickering you could take before you’d cracked and told exactly him what he wanted to hear. In a flurry of words, you’d agreed to turn off your laptop, close up your textbooks and actually put your head to a pillow.

You also may have been bribed.

To sweeten this deal, Kuroo had promised to buy you pizza this upcoming Friday, given that you actually did get some rest.

But as you reluctantly lift your phone, the glass screen glowing a little too brightly, you realize that it’s already 5:30 am.

You grimace.

It’s Tuesday morning. Meaning that the repetitive beeping across the hall is Kuroo’s alarm.

Your lips press into a firm line. Most birds don’t even get up at such a godless hour.

You can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have a functional morning routine. Or a morning routine at all.

Leaning back in your plastic desk chair, you squeeze your eyes shut. 

It stings.

You probably got so caught up staring at the blob-like words on your computer screen that, somewhere in the process, your body had forgotten how to blink.

And while the tension in your neck and shoulders is painful, it’s nothing in comparison to the festering guilt of not listening to your longtime best friend and now roommate (a suspiciously well-intentioned college boy who had somehow managed to win your heart over the course of this fall semester.)

Thinking back, working on your final English assignment at midnight wasn’t the brightest of ideas. It wasn’t even due for another week. But as due dates loomed, the impending fear of a bad grade had begun to burrow deeply within you.

If you could just pump the brakes on deadline anxiety, you wouldn’t feel so pressured to type incoherent sentences at odd and empty hours of the night.

And maybe Kuroo wouldn’t feel the need to coerce you into a firmer sleep schedule. Though you do find this caring habit of his to be inexplicably endearing. 

Thus, the prickling feeling continues to infiltrate your restless mind and the brewing concoction of anxiety and guilt in your tummy makes you feel uneasy.

But before you can sneak into bed and tuck yourself inconspicuously under the covers, you hear a floorboard creak. 

As if on instinct, you hold in a breath.

Kuroo isn’t one to forget about little promises. Of course, he’d want to know if you’d made good on your side of the deal. 

Gently, you close your laptop and swivel your chair to face the door. You still your movements, keeping your body taut against the back of your chair.

More soft steps fall just outside of your room.

Your eyes can’t pick a place to land, so they choose to wander. And with a quick scan of your room, it doesn’t take you long to realize that your bedside lamp had been left on - an instant giveaway.

You begin planning for your funeral. 

However, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t go out this way. You prepare yourself for death by interrogation or shame-induced coma.

Regrettably, neither options seem very interesting to you. If you ask politely, maybe your friends will engrave a portion of an epic poem into your gravestone just to make your passing seem more sophisticated. Yeah, that sounds nice and pretentious.

Okay, you might be overdramatizing things - Kuroo would never send you to your grave. But that doesn’t change the fact that your psyche likes to play tricks on you in the wee hours of the morning and that the eerie quality of the atmosphere somehow reminds you of a cemetery.

As you sort through who-gets-what on your will, there’s a not so sudden knock on your door. The soft tap makes your heart skip for two reasons:

The first being that you still haven’t gotten used to the fluttering in your chest from him being present all the time. Developing a crush on him (and suspecting feeling on his side) had made you a little jumpier over the past few months.

And the second had to do with the fact that you were actually going to have to talk to him about this. To apologize for being a bold-faced liar. It wasn’t clear to you whether you’d be teased or reprimanded. And honestly? You’re not sure which option would feel worse.

So you take a breath and steel yourself.

“Y/n?” A gravelly voice sounds from outside your room.

It’s tainted with sleep. You shiver.

There’s a preemptive sigh, “C’mon y/n, your light is on. I know you’re awake.”

You’ve been caught, so there’s no point in prolonging it.

“...You can come in.” You reply meekly, clenching and unclenching your fists.

The door cracks open.

That soft orange hall light floods into your room and directly into your eyes. With a squint, you try to fully visualize Kuroo. He’s positioned himself so that he’s leaning in your doorway with his arms crossed.

Before coming to grips with the situation, you scan the boy up and down. Amusingly, you realize that he has to duck his head just to fit underneath the door header - he really is tall. You have to wonder if he’ll ever stop growing.

Aside from his intensified bedhead (which doesn’t shock you) and the sleepiness in his eyes, he looks normal. But you must look positively spooked, because the moment he sees you, there’s a flicker of humor in his golden eyes… and an almost invisible smirk.

At least he isn’t angry. That fact alone allows you to let out the breath you’ve been holding in. Anger isn’t really a trait you’d ascribe to him anyway.

“It’s funny…” He wonders aloud, “I thought we’d agreed to something yesterday.” Kuroo brings a mocking hand to his chin in a thinking motion.

Your body naturally begins to shrink into your seat. You want to sigh, protest, explain yourself… anything to keep him from lecturing you. But, technically, you deserve this. 

“I’m pretty sure you promised me you’d be in bed, asleep,” He emphasizes “by 2 am…”

“And” he adds, motioning evenly to your set up, “I highly doubt you’re up early just to get work done.”

You bite your lip while gripping and releasing the fabric of your sweatpants.

Kuroo isn’t a mind reader by any extent, but the body has a language of its own. Right now, your actions are murmuring signs of discomfort. And exhaustion, according to your dark circles.

Kuroo heaves out something between a sigh and a yawn before he takes another couple of steps into your room. 

The sound of mattress springs and rustled bed sheets gets you to turn your head toward him, though you hesitate to meet his gaze.

He makes himself comfortable.

This is a familiar scene, Kuroo invading your space. Well, it’s less of an invasion and more of an unspoken agreement that the both of you can ‘come and go as you please’ in regards to bedrooms, granted that the “invader” knocks first.

Essentially, if Kuroo wanted company, he would find his way to you and plop himself on the edge of your bed. You would do likewise. The interaction could last 5 minutes or 3 hours depending on your mental stamina that day.

In a way, it mimicked your childhood - going over to Kenma’s and knocking relentlessly on his bedroom door until he finally let you and Kuroo tumble through the doorway together. The only difference now is in the way that you spend time together. Conversations become deeper a lot faster. Belly-laughs after a miserable day of classes are considered sacred. Study sessions are done shoulder to shoulder and with a myriad of disgusted faces when frustrated with a particularly tricky problem.

But this is different from your usual conversations. It’s sickeningly early, you haven’t slept a wink, and a tidal wave of stress from this entire semester is finally crashing into you.

“I’m sorry,” You start softly, fiddling with your fingers, “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about this expository essay I’ve been working on and my mind is totally numb. I’m so stressed out by all of these-”

“-Classes.” He finishes for you.

You swallow, bobbing your head softly in confirmation.

 “I get it.”

And just by looking at him, you know he understands. For someone so laid back and put together, Kuroo’s eyes could speak a novel’s worth of emotion and information at any given moment.

“But you’ve already spent more than enough time on it.”

Have I really? Have I actually done enough? Because it feels like I’m failing. Like I can’t seem to finish what I’ve started. I can’t even complete this paper.

But at least Kuroo sounds resolute. 

He’s stating a fact, not an opinion.

And he’s not trying to be unempathetic. He does get it, he really does.

But Kuroo also sees how hard you work already. And he knows all too well that there’s only so much work you can get done in one night. You’ve got enough on your plate even without your classes, so having the extra academic pressure is just the cherry on top.

“Mm,” you hum, “yeah, I guess you of all people would know.” You hunch over and rest your elbows on your thighs, using your hands to prop your head up.

He’d been there at your most and least productive moments. On days when you were cranking out a few thousand words and nights when you could only jot down a few sentences. Hell, Kuroo had even volunteered to help you edit and format it when the time came. What kind of person offers to do that before they’ve even been asked to?

It’s just another feature of his charm, you suppose.

But you still feel stuck. Like you’re a boat stranded in the middle of the ocean and you just can’t seem the muster up the strength to pull up the anchor. The anxiety lingers.

“...It just doesn’t feel like it’s ever enough, y’know?” You breathe out.

There it is. Finally out in the open.

And Kuroo hums thoughtfully to himself.

He’s been there.

Not knowing if the effort he put into his work was having any actual effect. Being unsure as to when he should stop taking responsibility for something. Putting work, classes, and people before himself.

It’s draining; a swirling spin-cycle of exhaustion.

But he’s also been learning that “enough” is subjective. So he decides to say just that.

“Enough is a pretty vague word, don’t you think?”

You blink. 

Yeah, you suppose it is. 

Hopefully this isn’t another one of his bizarre epiphanies - the kind that makes you think your brain is going to implode. Sometimes Kuroo could be a little too philosophical for his and your own good. But you humor him anyway.

Shifting in your seat, you give him a stiff nod.

Satisfied with your understanding, he proceeds with his thought.

“What I mean is that we probably have totally different definitions of enough...” he drawls on, “... and different standards too.”

“Okay...”

“What I mean is that-” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “-what’s ‘enough’ to you may not be ‘enough’ to me. And vice versa.”

Kuroo tilts his head back, brows furrowing in thought. He’s grasping for the right way to put it.

“Y/n, I think you’ve done enough. You’ve worked hard,” he points out, “and I don’t think I know anyone who deserves a break more than you do.”

That makes you pause. You lift your head up to catch his gaze - his eyes are already studying your expression. Something inside of you stops functioning because never have you seen such raw sincerity. Or maybe you have, but you’re only just now noticing it.

He gives you a gentle smile. It makes your chest ache.

“You mean it?” You half-whisper.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’ve known this for years now, but Kuroo truly has a way with words. They had the ability to pierce like a harpoon or stick sweetly to you like warm honey. Even with a few (thousand) shitty jokes littered throughout your conversations, it’s only natural to be awestruck by him. By his ability to make even the most awkward of situations a little more bearable. How he subliminally knows how to soothe and temper you. You think he would make a really great businessman - he’s quite persuasive; a real salesperson.

One part of you wants to apologize to him again. Another part wants to jump up and kiss him. To tear up and cry in his arms with relief. You chalk these potential reactions up to exhaustion and hormones… but you don’t write them off entirely.

Because suddenly being 3 feet apart feels like miles. And your bed is looking terribly comfortable.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask, but you’re already moving from your seat.

He gives you an indifferent shrug - though he feels anything but.

“It’s your bed.” 

Oh, you’re well aware of that fact. You can already feel heat rising to your face.

You stand up slowly, raising your arms to the ceiling in one final attempt to stretch. Then softly, you place a knee to the mattress and wedge yourself on the rest of the way until you’re sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He shifts his torso so that it’s facing you.

And now that you’re finally eye to eye, you can breathe.

He may be your crush, but you feel strangely comfortable in his presence. You always have. It’s part of what makes Kuroo... well, Kuroo. He embodies security while still pushing you out of your comfort zone. And for that, you’re grateful.

You break the silence.

“I really am sorry,” you echo your earlier apology.

You undoubtedly are. And you’re not sure why it feels like such a heavy thing to say over something as menial as a good night’s sleep.

“Hey, hey,” He soothes, reaching a hand over to ruffle your hair, “it’s no big deal, alright?”

You send him a half-hearted glare but it immediately breaks into a soft smile. His hand lingers for a moment longer than it should before he draws it away. You miss the teasing touch.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain eye-contact, but even as you look away, you note that his eyes remain concentrated on you. You can’t tell if it’s you who has moved closer or if he has. Either way, those few inches of distance have narrowed by a decent margin.

“I honestly just wanted you to get some rest. You’ve had it rough and by the looks of it-” He scans your face like he’s trying to diagnose you with something.

“Hey, watch it-” You warn, narrowing your eyes.

You already know you look tired. Kuroo loves reminding you of that in his own little way.

He smirks playfully, continuing anyway.

“-You could really use the sleep.” Kuroo’s raspy voice trails off.

“But apparently even pizza isn’t a convincing enough strategy.” He gives you a lopsided grin.

You shake your head, “Oh no, no, the pizza was very convincing.”

He scoffs, “Was it, now?” Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, “Because you seem very awake to me.”

“Can’t we just blame this on the paper, please?” You sigh.

He furrows his brows in contemplation, “Hmm, no. I don’t think so. This is partially your fault.” A rather underwhelming response.

“A small part.”

“I’d say it's fifty-fifty.” He reasons with a raised eyebrow.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Okay, you can quit whatever-” You gesture to his expression, “this is.” He always managed to pull the strangest faces and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh.

He snorts, “Oh? I thought you liked-” Kuroo gestures to his own face, “whatever this is.”

His voice has a curious edge to it. Some might even call it flirtatious.

And you go quiet. 

You can’t help but stare at him. His messy hair, his barely parted lips. The fact that Kuroo just woken up and somehow still looks this attractive to you is so annoying. So frustrating.

And words are failing you.

It was an innocent comment. He’s just messing with you like he usually does. Maybe this has all gone a little bit too far. You should probably just say good night (or good morning) and rest your eyes.

Yet you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the perfect segway into addressing your relationship.

At literally any other time of day, you might be more rational. You could reason with yourself that this is quite literally the weirdest time to bring up your feelings for him. But something in you needs to close the literal and figurative gap between you two. And, for some indecipherable reason, it has to happen right now.

Whatever the outcome, you trust that Kuroo will always be your safe place.

So you throw caution to the wind.

“Actually, Kuroo…” You begin, staring at your hands which are placed neatly on your lap. “I really do.”

His eyes snap to yours.

This time it’s Kuroo’s turn to go silent in contemplation. Taking in a steady breath becomes an act of labor.

“You… really do what?” He asks slowly, grasping for your intended meaning.

Your heart pounds.

“I really like you.” You clarify.

It isn’t at all eloquent, but it’s sincere. You’d once heard that honesty came easier late at night, but you had no idea that it applied to early mornings as well.

But you finally make sense of the words that just escaped your lips. Panic arises. In an attempt to hide, you bury your face in your hands. You wish you could put the words right back into your mouth.

“I-” You take a deep breath, “I think I spoke without thinking.” Is all you allow yourself to mumble.

You no longer trust yourself with words. 

Your face, your whole body really, feels like it’s on fire. Humiliation begins to wash over you in red hot waves… but you startle when a pair of hands meet your wrists.

You lift your head.

His fingertips are warm and worn. Still decorated with calluses from his years of volleyball back in high school. You want to question why the world has withheld this touch from you for so long.

He lures your hands away from your face, grasping both of them gently. For a sensation so new, it was somehow strikingly familiar. A thumb is meditatively tracing small, slow circles in the middle of your palm.

You gawk in disbelief… and as you scan his face, you catch a hint of pink on his cheeks. You can’t say anything though - your own face feels like it’s just become 1000 degrees warmer.

“I kinda figured you might,” Kuroo breaks the tension rather… bluntly.

Of course he did, wait what?

“But the thing is…”

Is this some sort of rejection? Is he just letting you down gently? Is that why he’s holding your hands like they’re as fragile as fine china? Then why is he looking at you so sweetly, so tenderly-

“I wanted to be the one to say it first.”

You start planning your own funeral again. 

However, this time, emotional whiplash will be your stated cause of death. At least it’s a more unconventional way to go out.

“I- uh,” you swallow, “w- what did you just say?” It comes out as a stammer. 

You’re squeezing his hands a little too tightly. When you recognize your modest death grip around his fingers you loosen your hold.

Kuroo smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly.

It’s nothing like that cunning smirk that you find annoying, yet so adorable. It’s also not one of his full-scale grins. It’s far too simple and reassuring. You almost don’t trust it.

“Well, in short, I like you too,” He re-explains, searching your face for a reaction, “but... I’d hoped to tell you that over pizza on Friday.” Kuroo looks away.

If you weren’t already gaping over his personal confession, you would probably be laughing at this new side of Kuroo. He looks unmistakably bashful.

It takes you a second to recover, but you finally open your mouth to respond...

But you’re cut off by Kuroo, once again. His softened expression is long gone. And, much to your dismay, he’s suddenly shifting himself off of your bed.

“It’s just too bad you didn’t keep up your end of the bargain. I guess that means there’ll be no pizza… no movie… no me.” He slowly releases your hands, knitting his brows together to feign sorrow - it looks hilariously forced, but you’re too worried about the warmth leaving your fingertips to care.

He’s teasing you like you’re his best friend.

And that’s because you are.

So then why does it feel like something’s changed? Like he’s daring you to make the next move?

Before he can pull away and leave, you tug at his hand which draws his whole body toward you.

Your heartrate spikes through the roof. When’s the last time you’ve been this close to someone? To a guy? A guy who’s shown actual living, breathing interest in you.

And he’s in your face.

Close enough that his scent, his cologne, is drowning your senses. Close enough that his breath is fanning faintly against your cheek. Close enough that you know there’s only one thing left for you to do.

Before you can think to hesitate, your lips are brushing up against his.

Intuitively, he brings his hands to your face, closing any extra distance. 

Kuroo’s thumb feathers over your cheekbone, stroking it tenderly. His lips apply very little pressure and it’s unbearably delicate, but it fills you with an indescribable warmth. His lips linger just long enough for you to detect the mint from his toothpaste - he can probably taste the cinnamon tea you’ve been sipping on over the past hour. As far as kisses go, it’s reserved, but perfect for this distinct moment.

Plus, you figure, this is just the first of many longer, more eager kisses - though you can’t imagine being more breathless than you already are right now.

But you can hardly get another taste of him before those warm hands on your cheeks are prying you away. He stares. You stare back. His eyes are brimming with something warm and full. You immediately choose to label it, “affection.”

And in a much lower voice, Kuroo murmurs, “Let’s save this for later.” 

You scan his face, wondering if he’s actually serious. He gradually makes his way off of the bed and onto his feet and before you can protest, Kuroo is speaking again.

“You-” 

He leans down and gingerly lifts your chin with his fingers. The gentleness of his touch almost makes you flinch, but you somehow manage to hold it in the road. Though now you’re really at a loss for words.

“-need to get some good rest.”

He places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You still feel it after he pulls away. After he closes the door. After you’ve laid you head down on your pillow in shock.

How does he expect you to fall asleep after all of that?

---

extra: this is dedicated to Izzy - our sleep schedules may be jacked up, but i’m pretty sure it’s a blessing in disguise if we’re taking our time zones into consideration. thanks for making me laugh & for not stealing my quarter of the braincell.

and to my precious friends and followers - thank you for being patient with me. it’s hard to post or even write at the moment, but i’m steadily pushing myself toward a better mindset. i appreciate your comments, likes, and the fact that y'all even bother to check out my works in the first place. i’m working on it.

also happy birthday, Tetsu. you’re a real star.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Nightmare paradise; Doctor Strange x daughter reader

*Author’s note*

Now I know this may not be my best work but I have been DYING to make a Doctor Strange daughter fic since like FOREVER!! A lone solo without any real relationship patterns in tact (mostly Peter Parker WHICH I DON’T DISAGREE WITH AT ALL. I’m just saying I hardly see any other fics that just revolve SOLELY on Stephen strange and a daughter reader. THAT’S IT.) So in the end THIS is what ended up being born.

Also I LEAVE FACVE CASTING OF NIGHTMARE UP TO YOU GUYS!! I personally imagined Troy Baker’s voice for Nightmare but you guys can picture WHOMEVER you wish to be the character for Nightmare. Also this fic is LOOSELY based off of WandaVision but DON’T WORRY NO SPOILERS OF THE SERIES IS GIVEN. I just took a plot point from the series and had it work for the Doctor Strange universe. Enjoy my first Maevel fic in FOREVER dearies :)

Warnings: Swearing, the BLIP mentioned and described, Thanos mentioned (yeah he’s a warning), some battle sequences, blood (if you’re squeamish).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queen-paladin​

@soy-guey​

____________________________________________________________

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock blaring off.  I groaned and reached out to try and shut it off but no matter how many times I was slamming my hand on my desk, my alarm was still blaring.  Finally I got out from under my covers and unplugged my clock and saw just how bright it was outside.  I let out a groan and collapsed back to my pillows.

“Why do I have to be woken up so early?” I groaned tiredly before heaving myself upward and out of my bed.  I walked towards my jointed bathroom and took my morning shower. After that I got changed and went downstairs to eat my breakfast.

I lifted my hand and soon a pop-tart came into my hand and I unwrapped the tinfoil and took out one of the two pop-tarts.

“It somehow amuses me to see you use your mystic arts to bring you your breakfast when you could just get it yourself.” That deep familiar baritone voice spoke out to me.

“Coming from the guy who just last month used his powers to wash his car when he was teaching me the form of astral projection.” I sassed back at him.

“That was for the purpose of multitasking.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“What are you talking about of course it is.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too times infinity times infinity there I win!” I chuckled and teasingly poked my tongue out at him.

“When did you get sassier than me, dad?”

“More like you inherited your sass from me. But no one can out sass me.” He said as he playfully booped my nose.

“Yeah but never forget dad,” I then took his arm and kicked his leg in before tossing him over my shoulder to finally pin him down. “I’m the more clever fighter out of the two of us.” He hummed questioningly.

“You sure about that?” suddenly I was levitated in the air and constricted in a familiar red velvet cloth.  I looked down to see the cloak of levitation had my arms pinned to my sides and was levitating me just a few inches off the ground.

“You cheat!”

“The Sorcerer Supreme never cheats.”

“But my father does.”

“You know you better choose your next sentence very carefully.” My dad threatened with that growl-like tone to his voice, but the twinkle of mischief and playful smirk on his face told me that this wasn’t a real threat.

“Or what? Parlor magician.” Next thing I knew the cloak of levitation had lifted part of it’s material up and it started messing up my hair. Not only getting it tangled up but making sure it gave my hair a static charge to it.

I exclaimed as I pleaded it to stop before it was too late, but soon enough my hair resembled a porcupine with it’s quills standing up. My dad laughed as the cloak finally released me and I fixed my hair.

“Very funny dad.”

“Oh I think it’s very funny.” He said through his deep baritone chuckle.  I tried to adjust my hair but some strands still remained on end.  “Here, let me help.” He then licked his fingers and I exclaimed.

“Eww gross you know I hate that!”

“Well it’s either this or we wet your hair again and you don’t have time to argue because you’re already 10 minutes late for class.”

“WHAT!?” I looked at the grandfather clock and saw that it was already 7:50am. “Shit!”

“Ah-ah-ah-ah language!” my dad scolded me.  I growled lowly and said.

“Okay fine just fix it hurry!” he soon made my hairbrush appear and he gently re-brushed my hair to it’s normal way.  Any crazy strand that was out of place, my dad would lick his fingers and tame it down by stroking it down to the rest of my hair.

“There you go, back to your normal gorgeous hair.” I then quickly opened up a portal to my school but before I left the cloak once again grabbed my arm preventing me from leaving.

“What now?”

“You know the rules, come on. No matter how old you get you never leave the house without giving your old man a kiss.” I looked up at him then stood up on my tip toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m going to be late.”

“You’re always late.” The cloak finally freed me and I hopped through the portal and gave one last wave to my dad before closing the portal back up.  As the last warning bell rang, I quickly raced through the back entrance of the school and raced to my first class.

The day went on as normal.  First block Advance Science, second block, PE, followed by half of third block being English and then lunch at 12:15pm and that’s where I was right now. We had about a half hour for lunch before continuing the second half of 3rd block since that’s how second lunches go.

See my school has this strange set up based on whatever class you have for your 3rd block depends on your lunch schedule.  If you had an elective class (choir, drama, band, orchestra, art), a foreign language, or science class you had 1st lunch at around 10:30am (so that means you eat lunch before you would go to your 3rd block class).  

Second lunches (like me) follow under English and Math have the first half dedicated to class, then lunch then we continue our class. And then 3rd lunches are for the people who eat lunch after their 3rd block classes, they’d eat then go straight to their last class of the day (history, PE/driver’s ED, health, home economics).

I was sitting with some of my friends when I heard a voice call out to me.

“Hey (Y/n)!” I turned and saw my group of friends.  I walked over to our table and that’s when one of my friends Courtney said.

“Yo (n/n) what be up?”

“Nothing much, just trying to get by in Mr. Gordon’s class.”

“I still can’t believe you somehow managed to pass his class when a friend of mine is struggling so bad. And he’s never done bad in the advance classes.” Said another friend of mine, Bobi said.

“I think it comes from having a neurosurgeon as a father. Well former neurosurgeon.” I said recalling the accident.  Of course I never told my friends that my dad eventually became a superhero that could bend time and reality to his will all thanks to his training he did with the former Sorceress Supreme.

“Well no worries (n/n), I’m sure your dad will get back on his feet soon.” My friend Jay said.

“Yeah, he is a strong man.”

“Then how come he got bleeped away like the rest of the world did?” said Kira.  I looked up at my ginger haired friend in shock.

“What did you just say?”

“I said then how come when my dad gets the shit knocked out of him, he just bitches about it?” I looked at her confused for a second and that’s when Kelsey answered.

“Just be thankful your dad at least tries to work. All my dad does is drinks and sleep.” I patted her shoulder comfortingly as I continued eating my pizza.

When school was over, my friends and I went down to the bowling alley since it was Friday.  We reserved our usual lanes and got into our teams.  I was up next to bowl for my team, I took hold of my red bowl, lined myself up and took a deep breath in then exhaled out.

‘(Y/n)! (Y/n)!’ my dad’s voice soon screamed in my head.  His tone sounded urgent and—worried? What was going on?

“Yo (Y/n) you alright?” Mikaela came up to me placing her hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah sorry.” She gave me a comforting squeeze on my shoulder.

“It’s okay, just make the shot otherwise we’ll lose and you are our best striker.” She went back to her seat and took a sip of her diet coke. My team was cheering me on, I took another deep breath but just as I took my run and let the ball go, my head suddenly felt like it was splitting open.

The ball went straight down the gutter and I was soon met with all these flashes.  I saw my dad, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, and these—other people including myself on what looked like a deserted wasteland of rubble.

There was this giant purple being that we were all fighting, a flash of green and then I saw my dad turn to dust.  When my vision came back I could hear my team groaning and my other friends who had their team cheering.

“WHAT THE FUCK (Y/N)!!!” Danielle exclaimed.

“Gurl you never. Miss. A. shot!” Mikaela snapped at me.

“What the fuck was that (Y/n)?!” Jay yelled.

“Ehhh thanks (y/n). Now you guys have to pay for the meal.” Courtney said as she snapped her fingers in victory.

And I don’t know how or why it happened but suddenly I was back holding the ball in my hands, staring down the pins and my team was cheering for me.  How did I get back here? Why was I back here? I felt myself step forward a few times and release the ball and soon I got a perfect strike.

My team cheered as the pins were cleared and a new set was placed down in front of me.

“Alright (n/n)! One more strike and we win!” my ball soon came back onto the ramp and I picked it up, stepped forward and released the ball and low and behold another strike! My team cheered while the other team groaned in defeat.

“Oh yasss Queen!” Chris exclaimed.

“Alright Courtney, pay up you’re buying the pizza now!”

“Damn you (y/n).” Courtney sneered at me as she took out her wallet and left the payment for all our pizzas and a tip for our waiter.

After that it was already getting dark outside and when I looked at my watch I had seen that it was now 10:30pm.

“Well guys I gotta get going.” I told them.

“Yeah I promised my mom that we’d go shopping for my sister’s wedding next month.” Mikaela said.

“Yeah and I gotta get up and ready for work by 8am. See yah guys.” Courtney said and soon all my friends and I went our separate ways.  I went into an alleyway to open up a portal to get me back home when I heard a sudden crash behind me.

“Hello?” I cried out.  Nothing but silence replied back to me. “Who-who’s there?” another crash was heard just head of me but I didn’t see anything.

The quick fluttering sounds of a cape or cloak whisked past behind me and when I quickly turned around I thought I could see the cloak of levitation, but it was so dark and so fast I couldn’t tell for sure.

I quickly made my portal and jumped through it and immediately closed it before finally starting to hyperventilate.  My knees turned to jelly as I collapsed to the ground trying to control my breathing.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong sweetheart are you okay?” I looked up and saw my dad kneeling down beside me.

“I—I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not. Come on let’s get you up to your room and settled in your bed.” He picked me up, holding me like how he always used to hold me when I was little and carried me back to my room.

I was now in my sleep pants and an old nightshirt.  My dad made a tall glass of milk appear by my bedside and he said as he brushed a strand of hair out of my face.

“Now, you wanna talk about why I found you hyperventilating at the bottom of the stairs?” I took a sip of my milk and said.

“It’s just…..I don’t know. Something weird happened today.”

“Like what?”

“Well there was something that Kira said to me. She—” but for some reason what I was about to say slipped my mind.

“She was going to say what?”

“She……she said……I-I can’t remember. I had it but now it’s….it’s gone.”

“Okay, what else happened? I know it couldn’t be just because of what she said.”

“Yeah, yeah then there was this sense of……déjà vu. Like when I was bowling I……” but again like before, when I was about to speak about—the thing it slipped my mind once again.  At this point my dad was looking at me like I was mad. “I…..I can’t remember the déjà vu thing either. Daddy, am……am I going mad?” he pressed his hand against my forehead.

“I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers.” He said gravely. “But I’ll tell you a little secret. All the best people are.” He said with a grin. I looked at him with my bitch face which made him chuckle.

“Must you always quote Alice in Wonderland to me?”

“It’s your favorite movie and book of all time. You remember how you’d always beg me to read it to you as a little girl?”

“One look with my puppy dog eyes and you succumbed every time.” He pressed his forehead against mine as his nose gently rubbed against mine as he chuckled that deep baritone chuckle of his.  The type that always made me feel safe.

“How about this, tomorrow we just take a day for ourselves. Just the two of us. We don’t even need to leave the house.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Great, love you sweetheart.” He leaned in and kissed my temple before leaving my room and shutting the door behind him.  I downed the rest of the milk and suddenly felt sleepy. I collapsed onto my pillow and like a lightbulb I fell right asleep.

But throughout the night I kept tossing and turning as I was hearing not only my dad’s voice but Wong’s voice too.  They were both frantic with worry as they kept calling out to me.

When I opened my eyes I found myself back at that wasteland and I saw myself fighting against the giant purple alien.  I was holding the sacred sword of Vishanti.  I saw myself leap into the air and swing the sword downward but the alien caught it with his bare hands.  The two of us struggled with our strengths until he grabbed me by my white tunic and threw me like a ragdoll.

My dad soon came in with the bolts of balthakk which broke apart the ground around the purple giant but his gauntlet glowed a bright purple and shit a blast towards my dad.  But my dad summoned a portion of the mirror dimension and used it as a shield to protect himself before sending it towards the giant.

While the giant was distracted I then suddenly came flying over my dad and sent the Crimson bands of Cyttorak to bind him while my dad multiplied himself using the images of Ikkon.  He surrounded himself around the purple giant and each image created their own binding bands which shot down towards the giant purple creep.

But he used the gauntlet again and soon my dad’s image went back to just himself and my hold on him was also severed.  He used the gauntlet to bring my dad closer to him but I couldn’t hear what he was telling my dad.

What I did see was him taking the eye of Agamotto and crush it into his palm before throwing my dad aside knocking him out.  I then heard myself scream out towards me dad and saw the rage in my own eyes.

I saw myself let out a battle cry as I leapt into action. This time using hand to hand combat using the sword as well as creating my own shields to block his attacks.  Wow I was a rageful monster with whoever this guy was.  But—why is this so familiar to me? I know this couldn’t be just a dream, it’s like—a memory? A vision maybe?

All I know was that I saw myself getting weaker with each kick and punch I tried to throw.  That was until I saw myself getting stabbed in my side.  The purple giant then said.

“I respect you young witch. But now you’re starting to become a nuisance.” I then watched as he took out the sword from my side and I saw myself collapse onto the ground bleeding heavily.

I found myself gasping as I woke up and looked around to see myself still in my bedroom.  I turned to the clock and saw that it was 1:45am.  I quickly raced downstairs, in the total pitch black of my house not knowing what I was doing.

“And just where do you think you’re going little miss?” my dad’s voice soon said.  He turned around in a chair as he turned on the light beside him.

“I-I was only…….”

“You weren’t planning on sneaking out were you? You know my rule. No venturing out after midnight.”

“No dad I-I-I wasn’t.” he stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder.  However I felt his nail sink onto my skin piercing through my shirt painfully.  I bit my bottom lip trying to keep in a scream or even a sound of pain.

“You know how it makes me feel whenever you disobey your father. You wouldn’t want to make father angry, do you?”

“N-no.” I whimpered out.

“That’s my girl.” Suddenly my dad was shot with a bolt of balthakk.  I ducked down holding my shoulder and saw a small amount of blood actually on my fingertips.

“She’s not your girl, she’s mine!” I turned around and saw Wong and my dad?! Wait what was going on here? Why were there two of them? My dad was in his full Sorcerer Supreme outfit as the cloak of levitation had him hovering over a few inches off the ground.

My dad who had been shot across the room growled out as he stood back up.

“Impossible. You were gone! I’d seen it for myself!” he hissed. My other dad smirked and said.

“14,000,605 possibilities I had seen and only one victory. That possibility has already come to pass. Now I’ll only tell you this once,” he clapped his fists together and soon his shields came over his hands and he warned my dad. “Let. My daughter go less you face the wrath of the Master of the Mystic Arts.”

“(Y/n) you need to come with us now before it’s too late.” Wong told me.

“I—I don’t understand……how?”

“Sweetheart listen to me, I’m your real father. Just come stand behind Wong and I and we’ll get you out of here.”

“Don’t listen to him (Y/n). I’m your real father. Who would know what your favorite lullaby was?”

“(Y/n) I know he may seem like me but he’s not. It’s Nightmare. He’s kept you trapped in the Dream Dimension for 3 years.”

What? Then suddenly behind me a giant green and black blast of magic shot up in the air.  As my dad’s body soon began to morph into another male’s body, wearing a familiar green and black attire, his hair growing wild and madded like a lion’s mane, his nails growing sharper and blacker like claws, his teeth turning to fangs and his eyes.  Those once warm blueish-green eyes that once held warmth now turned a frightening and haunting yellow with a black pupil at its center.

Suddenly it all came back to me.  When Thanos had snapped half of the population away, it gave Nightmare the advantage and power boast he needed to try and escape the Dream dimension and enter our own.

So three years ago I along with some other Sorcerers (those that were left) went to the Dream Dimension to stop him from invading Earth.  But due to everyone’s fear and guilt of losing their loved ones and what the world had come to, Nightmare was almost too powerful to stop.  He had killed one sorcerer who was still in her training and another one he had driven mad with fear.

In order to spare the others as well as the rest of the Earth, I volunteered myself as penance.  I told Nightmare that he could have me if he spared everyone on Earth. He agreed and sent the rest of the sorcerers I had brought with me back to Earth leaving me under his control.  I guess he had me relive a normal life with my dad where it was mainly us, no Thanos, no other Avengers, just me and him.

A haunting laughter was heard as Nightmare spoke with his true voice.

“Right you are Doctor. However you’re only partially correct this time around.” He walked right up to me and placed his hands on my shoulders gripping them once again. “Your daughter came to me by her own freewill.”

“That’s a lie! My daughter would never surrender herself to the likes of you!” Nightmare turned to me and disappeared into black smoke before reappearing behind me.

“Do you want to tell him? Or shall I?” he said as I felt one of his claw-like nails nick across my neck.  I hissed in pain and felt a small amount of blood dripping down.  His finger brushed across the cut and I could see him lick the blood off his finger from my peripheral vision.

“I’m sorry dad.”

“(Y/n)…….why?” before I could say anything Nightmare simply shushed me which in turn silenced me.  I tried to speak but not even a peep came out of me.  Nightmare had taken my voice.

“Seems she had more common sense than you did. The daughter of the Sorcerer Supreme is a precious treasure to uphold.” I felt him stroke down my hair, the very same way my dad would always do it to me.

“This is your last warning Nightmare, let her go or else.”

“Or else what? In case you hadn’t noticed I’m the one in control here. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been before. And you’re in my dimension which gives me the homefield advantage!”

“Yeah, but there’s one thing you still haven’t let go of. Your constant need to brag.” My dad said with a grin.  Nightmare looked at my father confused which gave me the chance to free myself from his grip and I binded him with the Crimson bands of Cyttorak. Wong soon joined in and pushed a wall from the mirror dimension right towards Nightmare sending him out of the room.

My dad raced up towards me and the two of us embraced each other.  I felt his left hand press against my temple while his right touched the base of my throat. I felt this warmth come over me and I said to him.

“I’m sorry dad.”

“Apologize later. Right now let’s get you out of here. You’ve been in here long enough.” He took my hand and we quickly made a run for it.

The normal streets of New York melted away and I finally saw the Dream dimension for what it really was.  A dark black shadow surrounded the sky with haunting eyes staring at you and fanged mouths snarling or taunting you with your worst fears and guilt.  Doors were also scattered everywhere, each one leading to somewhere you didn’t want to be or even get lost in.

And at the bottom of the trail we ran along at, an endless, empty abyss.  One trip or a slip, then it’s a never ending fall throughout the Dream dimension.   Wong let out a few shield platforms for us to hop across.

“Come on! The door we came through won’t be in the same spot for long.” He was the first to hop onto the first platform but then just before dad and I could even take the first leap, a python suddenly shot out from the floor and took hold of my calf.

“(Y/n)!” my dad exclaimed.  I was being dragged towards the edge of the trail.  I tried my best to scratch myself back towards my dad but the python continued to drag me towards the edge till I was finally dangling over the abyss.

My dad summoned the sword of Vishanti and threw it straight into the python’s eye which forced it to let me go as it recoiled back in pain before disappearing into a puff of black smoke.  Dad quickly brought me back onto solid ground and we both saw my leg was heavily bleeding.

“Never did I think I could hate snakes even more than I usually do.” I groaned out a joke.

“Just be thankful he didn’t conjure up a venomous one. Try to stop the bleeding.” The cloak of levitation came off my dad’s shoulders and wrapped itself around my leg, tightening itself up to stop the bleeding.

“You and Wong need to get out of here. You guys can come back with help.”

“I’m not gonna leave you here again that’s not happening!”

“Dad I can’t walk! And without the cloak you can’t fly.”

“We’ll think of something.”

‘I’m afraid there won’t be any time for you three, or should I say you two.’ That’s when we noticed that Wong had suddenly gone missing.

“Wong? Wong!” my dad called out.

‘Face it Strange, you’re in my dimension now. And thanks to your daughter’s powers I’ve grown more powerful than ever before!’ My dad picked me up bridal style and proceeded to run.

Somehow we managed to find somewhere to hide.  One of many doors that simply looked like a dark cave. My dad sat me down and that’s when the cloak unwrapped itself from my leg and my dad began to heal my leg as quickly as he could.

“Dad…..if—if we don’t make it out of here…..”

“We’re gonna make it out.”

“Dad please I—I need to say this, after five long years please just let me speak my mind.” He looked at me worriedly but gave me a nod. “If we don’t make it out of here alive, I—just want you to know that…..I’m proud to call you my father. I know we had a—rocky start especially when I became a teenager but—after the accident I thought I had lost you forever. And then when—Thanos blipped you away. I’d come so close to losing you again without telling you how I’ve felt about you. I love you daddy. I really, really do love you.” He pressed his hand against my cheek and said.

“I love you too (Y/n). I love you so, so much. I know I haven’t been Dad of the year to you, but……I thought it was because I wasn’t ready to be a dad. I thought I would screw up and have you end up broken. But I am proud to call you my daughter, my little white witch.” I smiled at him sadly.

‘How sentimental.’ Nightmare’s voice echoed through the darkness.  My dad pulled me close to his chest, his arms wrapped around me protectively, same thing with the cloak as it felt the red velvet material wrap it’s two edges around me.

“So what now Nightmare? Now that I’ve broken free of your spell you going to kill me?” I heard his haunting chuckle as he said.

“No of course not. He is.” Suddenly my dad was struck with one of Nightmare’s controlling spells.  It hit him right in his eyes and I saw the black and green magic aura surround my dad, trying to manipulate him.

“No! Dad! Dad no please fight it!” I pleaded as my dad was groaning and writhing on the floor.  He held his hands to his head as he exclaimed in pain. “Daddy no please, you’re stronger than him. You’re clever than him, you’re Doctor Stephen Strange!”

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but daddy’s no longer home.” Nightmare soon appeared as the cave light up by a single firepit just a few feet away from us.  Nightmare stood on top of a ledge of sorts and that’s when I heard the snarl of an animal next to me.

When I looked down that’s when I saw my dad had now shifted into a Nightmare.  Teeth like a wolf’s bared at me, gleaming like the full moon, his eyes now a haunting gold like a tiger’s eye but his pupils were slitted like a snake’s, claws like meat hooks, a whip-like tail that almost looked like a dragon’s tail and bat wings soon sprouted from his back as he stared me down snarling.

I backed up before hobbling away from him but my dad charged after me.  That’s when the cloak of levitation came to protect me as it wrapped itself around my father’s face trying to smother him.

“You know maybe I should’ve made you deal with this the past three years. Your biggest fear is your beloved father turned against you.” I fell to the ground due to my injury and backed away up against the rocky wall.  All the while I watched in horror as my dad actually began ripping the cloak apart before staring directly as me once again.

“Release him at once Nightmare! This wasn’t a part of our deal!” I snapped as I looked up to where he was standing above me.

“Contracts can be edited sweetheart. So long as I bind you to my will it doesn’t matter what you see. Unless by my word that I release you from your contract, you are stuck here for eternity.” I heard a snarl and when I looked forward, my dad was just inches away from my face.

His canine teeth gleaming right at me as he kept licking his fangs.  He truly was a monster now, there was not a single trace of my dad anymore in this beast.

“No daddy.” He stalked closer and closer inch by inch till I could feel his hot breath panting right in my face.

“Sweet dreams love.” Nightmare gave me one last taunt using my dad’s real voice.

Then quicker than lightning the beast that was once my father actually lunged for my neck and I felt his canines pierce my skin and I let out a blood curdling scream.

“Blech! Blood, blood, blood! And—death!” I said as my dad released my neck grinning at my over dramatic death scene.  I then collapsed to the ground and played dead with my tongue out and everything.

“Alright now you’re just milking it.” My dad spoke with a slightly more gravel to his normal voice (kinda reminded me of Smaug from the Hobbit films). “Besides, I think we’ve got him. Thank you Nightmare you’ve been a great costar.” Dad said as he helped me stand up.

“What?” oh the confusion on Nightmare’s face was priceless.

“Oh did you think you actually affected me with your Nightmare magic? Well spells can be contained by other spells, and your attack is trapped in the mirror dimension.”

“And I’ve been working on some other forms of magic like shapeshifting thanks to some Norse spell books.” I explained to him gesturing to my dad.

“My girl is a clever one. Cheeky at times too.” Dad said as he ruffled my hair.  Nightmare growled and said to me.

“But you forget one thing, you’re still under my control (Y/n) Strange. So says my law.”

“Yeah about that.” I then pulled out a small tape recorder from my pocket, rewind it and played the part that I needed and soon Nightmare’s voice said.

‘I release you from your contract.’

“Now by your own law, I am no longer tied to the Dream Dimension, or your control.” Nightmare’s face dropped from pride to utter defeat.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

“Oh yes. It’s called a hustle bitch. Mic drop!” Soon a portal came behind dad and I and we both jumped through it sending us back to the New York Sanctum.  The last thing we heard was Nightmare’s defeated tantrums.

Wong immediately closed the portal behind us and I dropped the spell from my dad turning him back to his normal self.

“You know he’ll try to return.” Wong told us.

“Yeah and now it seems I’m a bigger threat to him than you are dad.” I said.

“Well no matter what happens, we’ll be there to make sure he doesn’t try to return to Earth. Whatever it takes.”

Later that night as I was browsing through my phone, a knock was heard at my door.

“It’s open.” My dad soon came in and he said.

“How are you feeling?”

“After finally getting some real food in my system, and finally getting to use the Internet again. I’d say I’m doing better.”

“You know you didn’t have to be the one to do it. Wong was willing to hold Nightmare off.”

“I know, but the Time stone did show you that I needed to be the one to do it. Plus a poor, helpless, defenseless little girl willing to sacrifice herself for her friends. Nightmare could never resist such a scenario.”

“But to be tortured by him for three years? I’m surprised your psyche hasn’t been damaged.” He said as he sat down beside me.

“Well truthfully it wasn’t any different than what we’re doing right now. I was basically living a normal life with you, still using our powers but it was all before Thanos ever came into the picture. It almost felt like a sitcom at times.”

“Interesting.” Dad pondered.

“In all seriousness though dad, I’m fine. Mentally and physically. Well most of me anyways.” I said raising my newly bandaged leg. “But that’ll heal in the next few days thanks to Wong’s herbal remedies.”

“Well it’s getting late, so your head goes right there.” He said pointing to my pillow.

“Nah think I’ll just stay up all night. I mean I have been asleep technically for 3 years.”

“Fine, but don’t come whining to me when I come in here at first light for your morning training.”

“Please dad. You hate mornings even more than I do. Even when you were a neurosurgeon you hated your morning shifts.” He chuckled and gave me a kiss on top of my head.

“You really are my daughter.”

“And damn proud of it.”

“Goodnight (Y/n).”

“Night dad. Glad to have you back.” He winked at me before leaving my room.  I laid back against my pillow and sighed heavily continuing to go through the web and looking at my old social media accounts that I hadn’t used in awhile and seeing just what some of my old friends were up to. “You may have created the perfect paradise for me Nightmare, but I wouldn’t trade my reality for anything else.” I spoke out loud knowing that Nightmare could be potentially listening in.

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